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Description
Captain Myra Zink rarely took the trip from the bridge area of the Platinum Princess to the dock. The dock was approximately three hundred yards and two flights of stairs away from the bridge, totaling no more than six hundred wiggle-waddling steps, but for someone of Myra's substantial girth it represented a formidable and highly taxing journey. Thus it took Myra over forty minutes to make the trip, taking two ten minute breaks along the way. She ultimately arrived approximately five minutes late to her destination.

By the time Myra arrived the punctual Trade Federation shuttle had completed docking maneuvers. Jordan Shultz and her squad had already disembarked the shuttle. The contingent of heavy soldiers relaxed in the flight lounge awaiting their hostess' arrival. The two words that best described the soldiers were chubby and blonde, with each solider bearing a strong similarity to Jordan herself – full figured and hair dyed an identical shade of blonde. Yet each individual soldier's physical appearance lingered a single (but full) notch below Jordan's attractiveness on the Persimmon's scale of galactic beauty, the most commonly recognized standard of beauty in the civilized universe.

Myra herself was on the high end of Persimmon's scale, but with each passing year her grasp on the desirable end of the scale grew more tenuous. Myra's final Big and Beautiful sex tape, which spurred Myra's first fortune, had completed filming well over a decade ago. While some would consider Myra's hedonistic lifestyle aboard the Platinum Princess to be sumptuous and decadent, there was some modicum of work involved in being in charge of a nine hundred soldier frigate, not the least of which included toddling over six hundred wiggle-waddling steps along the brushed stainless aluminum floors of the Princess to greet incoming Trade Federation guests.

Myra took a moment to compose herself before greeting her guests. She sat down and calmed her ragged breathing. She reapplied a layer of pastel pink lipstick to her generous lips, and raked a brush through her thick blonde hair as she gazed at her reflection in her small mirror. She admired her reflection before reluctantly slipping the mirror back into her purse.

Jordan Shultz wore her honey blonde hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, which made her cleanly scrubbed face and bright brown eyes more prominent. Jordan's makeup-free beauty contrasted with Myra's plastic features, as lately Myra found herself leaning more heavily on assorted cosmetic procedures, lotions, creams, and ointments to maintain her beauty. The plumpness of Jordan's cheeks combined with her youthful complexion gave the appearance of baby fat, but her her stomach was slim. Myra recalled that Jordan was much heavier in her Powerball days. It was a thought which she filed away for later.

As a Powerball player Jordan possessed freakish athleticism for someone her size, but her promising career was cut short by injury. The transition to the military was common for Powerball athletes like Jordan Shultz. While elite players grew rich playing the sport, there were many excellent players who fell just shy. Surprisingly often this was a shock to them, and they often lacked the education and skills to transition into a different career. However the military valued many of the traits that made the athletes successful Powerball players – strength, size, and athleticism.

"Hello Miss Shultz." Myra smiled warmly and extended her hand in welcome, trying to contain her excitement. While managed to half-convinced herself she had made the trek as part of proper military protocol, military protocol alone wasn't enough justification for Myra to trek three hundred yards in under an hour.

"Captain!" Jordan said sharply, snapping a crisp salute.

Was Jordan too stupid to see how Myra hungered for her?

"These is the wolfpack, Jessica, Hailey..."

Myra tuned the names out and focused on Jordan. They looked so much like Jordan Myra considered them to be Jordan 1, Jordan 2, Jordan 3, etc., carefully selected for their attractiveness, but yet not so attractive that they eclipsed the beauty of Jordan herself.

"That's wonderful," Myra grinned, cutting Jordan off. The pay per view viewers would not be tuning in for Jordan Shutlz' stimulating conversation, they would be tuning in for a glimpse of that pear-shaped ass. Myra carefully cupped her hand over one of Jordan's buttock's, steering her towards the changing room and resisting the temptation to give the soft flesh a hard squeeze.

It was a given that Myra had her own changing room, but the two stars of each team were afforded the same luxury. It also gave the stars the illusion of privacy, allowing them to be themselves while Myra observed them via the secret closed circuit video cameras positioned strategically around their rooms.

Myra showed Jordan's squad to the communal room, and then took Jordan to her own private room. Myra lingered as Jordan soaked in the opulent surroundings.

"This ship is completely amazin'."

Jordan's Aw Shuck's Issa Falls accent was endearing. Jordan's attractive innocence was bringing Myra to a slow boil. It didn't matter than Myra had an all night sex session with her lover Jupiter Moon. All that mattered was Jordan Shultz and her Aw Shucks Powerball Issa Falls ponytailed pear-bottomed sexiness.

"Thank you." Myra accepted the compliment gracefully, as if it wasn't something she had heard a thousand times before.

"But before you get too comfortable, I need to explain some demographics to you. Do you know that our viewing audience is over sixty percent Corporate World's region?"

Jordan nodded in agreement, pretending to be something other than the sexy stupid cow she was. Myra could have asserted anything, and Jordan would have agreed to it, to prevent herself from looking dumb.

"That's why we need to get you out of that girdle."

The statement hung there. It was not spoken as an accusation, it was spoken as a fact. As the statement silently dangled over Jordan's head, her cheeks blushed.

"What makes you think I am wearing a girdle?" Jordan replied, her hesitation belying the truth.

"Maybe I know a thing or two about girdles," Myra said, running her hands over her big breasts and along her plump belly.

"Maybe you know a thing or two about circus tents!" Jordan snapped.

Myra stood there coolly, staring at Jordan, Myra's chocolate brown eyes as hard as pebbles. "Maybe you have mistaken me for someone else. Someone who is not Captain of the Platinum Princess. Someone who is not about to give you 10% of the gate and .5% of the pay per view. Maybe you've mistaken me for someone who gives a crap that you've stuffed your body inside a girdle to give the impression that you are thirty pounds lighter, but are in fact fooling no one and look rather sad and desperate. Maybe you've mistaken me for someone that cares more about your feelings than about money, for someone who doesn't realize that a two hundred twenty pound Jordan Shultz is vastly more appealing and marketable that the laughably phony one hundred ninety pound version."

"Now unbutton your uniform."

The easy going nature of the conversation changed. Myra's mask had temporarily lifted, giving Jordan a glimpse of how powerful she was. Because Myra was a beautiful woman she was often underestimated. People assumed Myra Zink gained her position through a combination of sheer luck and fucking the right people, and though a small percentage of her rise had been by fucking the right people, it had always been done in a calculating way.

This time Jordan knew better than to protest. She slowly unbuttoned her uniform top, revealing a tightly bound corset.

Myra smiled thinly and caressed Jordan's cheek. "Now that wasn't so bad, was it? If you want to participate tonight, take that ridiculous thing off. You aren't an Aurellian, so don't kill yourself trying to look like one. There are plenty of people out there that would like a slice of that plump Shultz ass."

And as much as Myra was one of those people, she instinctively knew she had no shot. So instead she gently excused herself, and left Jordan to change.

Myra rushed to her own dressing room. After the journey she was tired, and at best she could only do a moderately fast wiggle. Her breath rasped and her buttcheeks and thighs burned under her weight as she steered herself to her destination.

Opening the door to her dressing room she saw it was already occupied by a figure in a familiar brown wig.

"Jupiter?"

Myra's lover turned from the consoles. The Aurellian was sitting back on the chair, her feet reclined on the desk, showcasing her long luscious legs.

"Myra?" Jupiter laughed. "That was quite a performance. When you told her to unbutton her top I nearly had an orgasm."

Myra noticed that Jupiter's uniform trousers and panties were hiked down mid thigh, exposing her pelvis and smooth pussy.

The primary console was tuned to Jordan's dressing room. Lieutenant Clarissa Glass appeared via the close circuit on the secondary console, and while Clarissa was gorgeous, Myra had secretly watched the hairless Lieutenant fiddle with her blonde wigs hundreds of times before.

"Shouldn't you be getting ready?"

"I am getting ready. Can't you see?" Jupiter replied, her laugh tinkling.

Myra was torn. The idea of watching Jordan getting undressed was compelling, but seeing Jupiter reclined in the chair with her trousers hiked down past her buttocks was too much to resist.

"Put that on record."

"It already is," Jupiter laughed. "Come here sexy big girl. You worked hard today, and it's time for your reward. We can watch uptight Jordan Shultz get changed post-coital."

Description
Captain Myra Zink rarely took the trip from the bridge area of the Platinum Princess to the dock. The dock was approximately three hundred yards and two flights of stairs away from the bridge, totaling no more than six hundred wiggle-waddling steps, but for someone of Myra's substantial girth it represented a formidable and highly taxing journey. Thus it took Myra over forty minutes to make the trip, taking two ten minute breaks along the way. She ultimately arrived approximately five minutes late to her destination.

By the time Myra arrived the punctual Trade Federation shuttle had completed docking maneuvers. Jordan Shultz and her squad had already disembarked the shuttle. The contingent of heavy soldiers relaxed in the flight lounge awaiting their hostess' arrival. The two words that best described the soldiers were chubby and blonde, with each solider bearing a strong similarity to Jordan herself – full figured and hair dyed an identical shade of blonde. Yet each individual soldier's physical appearance lingered a single (but full) notch below Jordan's attractiveness on the Persimmon's scale of galactic beauty, the most commonly recognized standard of beauty in the civilized universe.

Myra herself was on the high end of Persimmon's scale, but with each passing year her grasp on the desirable end of the scale grew more tenuous. Myra's final Big and Beautiful sex tape, which spurred Myra's first fortune, had completed filming well over a decade ago. While some would consider Myra's hedonistic lifestyle aboard the Platinum Princess to be sumptuous and decadent, there was some modicum of work involved in being in charge of a nine hundred soldier frigate, not the least of which included toddling over six hundred wiggle-waddling steps along the brushed stainless aluminum floors of the Princess to greet incoming Trade Federation guests.

Myra took a moment to compose herself before greeting her guests. She sat down and calmed her ragged breathing. She reapplied a layer of pastel pink lipstick to her generous lips, and raked a brush through her thick blonde hair as she gazed at her reflection in her small mirror. She admired her reflection before reluctantly slipping the mirror back into her purse.

Jordan Shultz wore her honey blonde hair pulled back in a tight ponytail, which made her cleanly scrubbed face and bright brown eyes more prominent. Jordan's makeup-free beauty contrasted with Myra's plastic features, as lately Myra found herself leaning more heavily on assorted cosmetic procedures, lotions, creams, and ointments to maintain her beauty. The plumpness of Jordan's cheeks combined with her youthful complexion gave the appearance of baby fat, but her her stomach was slim. Myra recalled that Jordan was much heavier in her Powerball days. It was a thought which she filed away for later.

As a Powerball player Jordan possessed freakish athleticism for someone her size, but her promising career was cut short by injury. The transition to the military was common for Powerball athletes like Jordan Shultz. While elite players grew rich playing the sport, there were many excellent players who fell just shy. Surprisingly often this was a shock to them, and they often lacked the education and skills to transition into a different career. However the military valued many of the traits that made the athletes successful Powerball players – strength, size, and athleticism.

"Hello Miss Shultz." Myra smiled warmly and extended her hand in welcome, trying to contain her excitement. While managed to half-convinced herself she had made the trek as part of proper military protocol, military protocol alone wasn't enough justification for Myra to trek three hundred yards in under an hour.

"Captain!" Jordan said sharply, snapping a crisp salute.

Was Jordan too stupid to see how Myra hungered for her?

"These is the wolfpack, Jessica, Hailey..."

Myra tuned the names out and focused on Jordan. They looked so much like Jordan Myra considered them to be Jordan 1, Jordan 2, Jordan 3, etc., carefully selected for their attractiveness, but yet not so attractive that they eclipsed the beauty of Jordan herself.

"That's wonderful," Myra grinned, cutting Jordan off. The pay per view viewers would not be tuning in for Jordan Shutlz' stimulating conversation, they would be tuning in for a glimpse of that pear-shaped ass. Myra carefully cupped her hand over one of Jordan's buttock's, steering her towards the changing room and resisting the temptation to give the soft flesh a hard squeeze.

It was a given that Myra had her own changing room, but the two stars of each team were afforded the same luxury. It also gave the stars the illusion of privacy, allowing them to be themselves while Myra observed them via the secret closed circuit video cameras positioned strategically around their rooms.

Myra showed Jordan's squad to the communal room, and then took Jordan to her own private room. Myra lingered as Jordan soaked in the opulent surroundings.

"This ship is completely amazin'."

Jordan's Aw Shuck's Issa Falls accent was endearing. Jordan's attractive innocence was bringing Myra to a slow boil. It didn't matter than Myra had an all night sex session with her lover Jupiter Moon. All that mattered was Jordan Shultz and her Aw Shucks Powerball Issa Falls ponytailed pear-bottomed sexiness.

"Thank you." Myra accepted the compliment gracefully, as if it wasn't something she had heard a thousand times before.

"But before you get too comfortable, I need to explain some demographics to you. Do you know that our viewing audience is over sixty percent Corporate World's region?"

Jordan nodded in agreement, pretending to be something other than the sexy stupid cow she was. Myra could have asserted anything, and Jordan would have agreed to it, to prevent herself from looking dumb.

"That's why we need to get you out of that girdle."

The statement hung there. It was not spoken as an accusation, it was spoken as a fact. As the statement silently dangled over Jordan's head, her cheeks blushed.

"What makes you think I am wearing a girdle?" Jordan replied, her hesitation belying the truth.

"Maybe I know a thing or two about girdles," Myra said, running her hands over her big breasts and along her plump belly.

"Maybe you know a thing or two about circus tents!" Jordan snapped.

Myra stood there coolly, staring at Jordan, Myra's chocolate brown eyes as hard as pebbles. "Maybe you have mistaken me for someone else. Someone who is not Captain of the Platinum Princess. Someone who is not about to give you 10% of the gate and .5% of the pay per view. Maybe you've mistaken me for someone who gives a crap that you've stuffed your body inside a girdle to give the impression that you are thirty pounds lighter, but are in fact fooling no one and look rather sad and desperate. Maybe you've mistaken me for someone that cares more about your feelings than about money, for someone who doesn't realize that a two hundred twenty pound Jordan Shultz is vastly more appealing and marketable that the laughably phony one hundred ninety pound version."

"Now unbutton your uniform."

The easy going nature of the conversation changed. Myra's mask had temporarily lifted, giving Jordan a glimpse of how powerful she was. Because Myra was a beautiful woman she was often underestimated. People assumed Myra Zink gained her position through a combination of sheer luck and fucking the right people, and though a small percentage of her rise had been by fucking the right people, it had always been done in a calculating way.

This time Jordan knew better than to protest. She slowly unbuttoned her uniform top, revealing a tightly bound corset.

Myra smiled thinly and caressed Jordan's cheek. "Now that wasn't so bad, was it? If you want to participate tonight, take that ridiculous thing off. You aren't an Aurellian, so don't kill yourself trying to look like one. There are plenty of people out there that would like a slice of that plump Shultz ass."

And as much as Myra was one of those people, she instinctively knew she had no shot. So instead she gently excused herself, and left Jordan to change.

Myra rushed to her own dressing room. After the journey she was tired, and at best she could only do a moderately fast wiggle. Her breath rasped and her buttcheeks and thighs burned under her weight as she steered herself to her destination.

Opening the door to her dressing room she saw it was already occupied by a figure in a familiar brown wig.

"Jupiter?"

Myra's lover turned from the consoles. The Aurellian was sitting back on the chair, her feet reclined on the desk, showcasing her long luscious legs.

"Myra?" Jupiter laughed. "That was quite a performance. When you told her to unbutton her top I nearly had an orgasm."

Myra noticed that Jupiter's uniform trousers and panties were hiked down mid thigh, exposing her pelvis and smooth pussy.

The primary console was tuned to Jordan's dressing room. Lieutenant Clarissa Glass appeared via the close circuit on the secondary console, and while Clarissa was gorgeous, Myra had secretly watched the hairless Lieutenant fiddle with her blonde wigs hundreds of times before.

"Shouldn't you be getting ready?"

"I am getting ready. Can't you see?" Jupiter replied, her laugh tinkling.

Myra was torn. The idea of watching Jordan getting undressed was compelling, but seeing Jupiter reclined in the chair with her trousers hiked down past her buttocks was too much to resist.

"Put that on record."

"It already is," Jupiter laughed. "Come here sexy big girl. You worked hard today, and it's time for your reward. We can watch uptight Jordan Shultz get changed post-coital."