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Space Junk
Space Junk
Space Junk
Ebook52 pages46 minutes

Space Junk

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Interstellar engineer Vivienne “Vee” Trace has been adrift on an empty research vessel, lost in space, for the past seventy-one days. Hungry for human contact after the devastating loss of her crew, she jumps at the chance to investigate another abandoned spaceship that crosses her path. What she discovers inside takes her by surprise: not a real human being like she'd hoped, but an artificial one. A sexbot, to be precise.

The only two survivors of their respective ships, android and human quickly find unexpected common ground. But complicating their affinity is the undeniable fact that one of them is programmed to flirt, infatuate, and fuck. Can Vee overcome the effects of her long isolation to connect with her new companion? And more importantly, is it possible to seduce a sexbot instead of the other way around? If Vee has her way, her new android friend will be the one to have a searingly satisfying first time... because after all, there’s more than one way to turn on a robot!

Read on for 13,000 words of sci-fi smut featuring non-binary/lesbian romance, robophilia, and slow-burn, first time sex!

Excerpt:

“I hope this is not an improper request,” answered Azimuth, still searching Vee’s face as if looking for answers there. “What I am asking may be too bold, as we have only known each other for a few hours. But if you are not opposed, I would like you to kiss me.”

Vee’s heart banged around like a faulty screw fallen into a malfunctioning engine cylinder. Eye contact had suddenly become intensely difficult to maintain, yet that much harder to break.

“Kiss... you.” Whatever had caused the pounding of her heart must have been impacting her speech ability as well.

“Yes,” Azimuth said clearly. “Because I want to know if I can feel pleasure even if I am not programmed to. And I believe that kissing you would be very pleasurable.”

“Does that imply...” She had no idea how to finish that question.

“Let me clarify. I want to be kissed. And, Vivienne Trace—Vee—” Azimuth blinked, slowly. “I want to be kissed by you.”

LanguageEnglish
PublisherFoxxi Smolder
Release dateOct 24, 2019
ISBN9780463323441
Space Junk
Author

Foxxi Smolder

Confirmed bacheloress by day and scribbler of indecent material by night, Foxxi Smolder has been writing sweet, smutty short stories since 2015. She is dedicated to bringing her readers works that embrace kink without sacrificing sex positivity or a sense of humor. When not writing, she enjoys tending her rose garden, doing Tarot readings for her cats, and adding to her collection of fainting couches.

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    Book preview

    Space Junk - Foxxi Smolder

    Space Junk

    © 2019 Foxxi Smolder

    All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced in any form without permission from the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law.

    This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, businesses, companies, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

    Space Junk

    By Foxxi Smolder

    At the very top of the list of things Vee missed most about life on the spaceship Giorni IV (second only to the eleven other living, breathing, human crew that she used to work with before they’d turned into eleven cold unbreathing corpses) was, without a doubt, central heating.

    As ship engineer, she should’ve had the wherewithal to fix a set of broken thermal controls. But something about the way they’d shorted out not long after the Big Fuckup (two months, eleven days, and approximately ten hours ago) escaped Vee, frustrating her mechanical mind. She had one of those problems she couldn’t fix just by talking it through out loud—it needed actual insight from an external source. She needed someone not just to bounce ideas off of, but to bounce new ideas back.

    Unfortunately, no one in the Giorni IV fit that description. Because there was no one besides her left inside the ship. Because she was alone, and would be from now until potentially forever.

    Vee shivered.

    She grabbed a crew jacket—the one with Vivienne Trace embroidered across the front, not that there was anyone else around to complain if she took theirs instead—from the nearest closet and shrugged it on, but the cold didn’t leave. A dark voice in the back of her head told her it never would. She gritted her teeth and stomped towards the mess hall anyway, as if defiance were enough to keep her warm.

    Vee was on day seventy-two of complete isolation. They had been on day 337 of their original mission, the standard go-find-a-new-planet-and-research-it-for-potential-terraforming operation, when The Big Fuckup had occurred. Said fuckup resulted in the Giorni IV falling so off-course it was doubtful Vee’d ever be able to execute that original mission now, much less the far greater one of returning to civilization (any civilization at all). She wasn’t a navigator. Their navigator was lying under a space blanket in the sleeping quarters, along with the other unlucky ten that had gotten Fucked Up, which was why Vee now slept in a makeshift pile of pillows and quilts in the observation deck and also why she had next to no chance of finding a way home.

    No, Vee’s options had narrowed down fairly significantly. She could either continue adrift in space, as she had been for the last seventy-one days, rationing her fuel and air and food and hoping to crash-land somewhere habitable; or she could run out of her rations and eventually die.

    The second option was still the less appealing of the two for now, so Vee got to the mess hall and made herself a quick nutritional paste that came out of a shiny foil packet, which she then ate as fast as she could. Eating slow gave you time to think, time to dwell, and Vee had bigger flares to fry.

    Once she’d finished her meal and chucked the foil packet into their trash hole, she took to the long, empty hallways again, this time making for the observation deck at the front of the ship. A research vessel, the Giorni IV hadn’t been made with looks in mind; from the outside, it resembled a stubby little sunfish, all blunt nose with two fins in back (top and bottom) for course control. It was ungainly, pragmatic, and homely, yet it sported one of the most gorgeous space-side views that Vee had ever

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