Christmas Eve

Month 10 Day 24

0632 Hours

Smythe

 As Smitty walked down the corridor, he was surprised to see a long line of men along one bulkhead; Capac, Tall Bear, Chafin, Urbandowski, among others. As he neared the head of the line - which appeared to be just outside a privacy room - he saw Takor emerge from that privacy room, looking dazed and... mussed. “Fascinating,” The Scissan muttered. He had a strange smirk on his face as he staggered off down the hall.

“What’s going on?” Smythe wondered.

“Next,” came a soft call from inside. Despite the protests of the men in line, Smythe entered, stopped short at the sight that greeted him. The lights were dim, but there was no mistaking the redhead in the bed, a sheet draped over most of her naked body. “Oh, dear, I wasn’t expected you just yet, but... I can be flexible.”

“What are you doing?” he demanded, fighting the urge to climb into bed with her.

She smiled. “It’s difficult to do any shopping on a ship, even one this size. I’ve been forced to give the same present to a number of people.” She moved the sheet aside to reveal her fantastic body. “I’ll make it extra special for you.”

“Yes,” he heard himself agree. Unable to resist any longer, he stumbled across the room and- He sat bolt upright as the alarm went off.

He remembered the dream vividly, especially the breast he’d been reaching for. If he hadn’t gotten so accustomed to being startled awake in the middle of similar dreams, he’d be looking around his bedroom, wondering where she was. His organ throbbed painfully with desire for the promiscuous tart of his dream. Blast! Another cold shower this morning!

Resigned to his fate, he tossed his bed clothes aside and started for the bathroom. Presents. Space, yes, it’s Christmas again. I’ll have to wrap the presents I’ve been storing since shore leave. A bottle of scotch for MacGregor, wine for Jane, a tape of Scissan poetry for Takor, that book for Anna, a hair comb for Adbulla. I should have gotten something for- No, best I haven’t. A present for Abdulla is risky enough, but as least she’s been here for years. But to single out another young woman as well... Especially one who’s... that one. Anyway, I’m sure she hasn’t anything for me, so...

“I’ll make it extra special for you.” No, not even that. Especially not that! She’s too busy with Bugalu. And if she gets a moment’s respite from him, MacGregor’s waiting for his chance. Not to mention all those others waiting in the hallway... He hesitated before stepping into the cold water of his shower. No, that was a dream.

Wasn’t it?

He gave a brief yelp as cold water sluiced down his body, temporarily ending all thought except the need to get out and get dry and warm again. He shoved that thought away, determined to punish himself, it seemed. It must have been a dream.

Even after an icy cold shower, he found himself thinking about her, about the dream. It was getting harder and harder to relegate these dreams to someplace where they wouldn’t bother him. I’ve got work to do! I can’t spend my entire day thinking about her! A walk, that’s what I need. A brisk walk about the ship before breakfast. He dressed quickly and left his quarters for the walk, turning corners and riding the turbo-lift to another deck as whim dictated, without any real thought given to his choices.

I’m over-stimulated, he decided. I’m sure I have these... sexual dreams every Monday night, after spending the evening in the company of 3 beautiful, intelligent women, all of them wearing D2 uniforms, which is basically shorts and an abbreviated top. And for all that we’re working hard on our project, there’s plenty of joking and laughing, which I’m not used to in a work environment. So I relax into the moment, without realizing that my subconscious is soaking up all the sexual stimulation from the D uniforms. Then I return to my quarters, have a nightcap and then... spend the night in a purgatory of anticipatory delight.

Maybe I should forget the nightcap before I go to bed. On Mondays, anyway.

Would I even manage to fall asleep without them?

What about all those dreams I had before we started this project? Those can’t be explained quite so easily, can they? And if I’m going to blame these dreams on D2 uniforms and the presence of 3 beautiful ladies, why do my dreams only ever involve one woman? Forbidden fruit, one could claim, but all of these ladies are in my chain of command, and therefore forbidden to me. If my subconscious is so concerned with longing for what is ethically forbidden to me, then why not divide its attention among all of them? Why concentrate on one?

So it seems that isn’t the problem. Of course it’s not as simple as that. And just because I’ve been having these types of dreams the last couple of Monday nights doesn’t mean I don’t have them any other night of the week.

Wonder if I could convince them somehow to wear D1 uniforms? Long sleeves and long pants would at least keep them well covered. Of course, every curve would show, so they’d all be like... presents, just ripe for unwrapping- Blast!

He hurried back to his quarters to take yet another cold shower before he headed for breakfast. And a fast breakfast it would have to be.