The Directrix was getting tired. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been tired.

Sheila was strong. She had a constitution like no other. Much else was to be determined. Directrix Phantom couldn't much tell how quick she was. The blue-haired woman was presumably intelligent, but was so quiet most of the time that Phantom had a tough time figuring her out. She was nearly impenetrable. Well, nearly. 

She stared deep into her captive's eyes. Sheila was practically amazonian in physique; the captive's tremendous physical strength was matched with a towering height that made even the lanky crewmen who'd been born in free fall seem of average height. 
All of this made her one of the most prized possessions that the Directrix had ever recovered. The lightning raid on the Mettoria-II had yielded information - which was useful, though passed off to the XO for further study - but had more importantly yielded the unsullied and beautiful creature before her.

And yet... Sheila was just so tremendously strong-willed that the Directrix didn't know what to do with her.

For three days and three nights, Phantom had interrogated her, tormented her, teased her, all of which seemed to irritate her at best and bore her at worst! She wasn't unreactive... she was just not going with Phantom's plan. It was positively infuriating.

She was used to getting her way. Most captives would be terrified, or pleased to be in her service. The sight of a woman tied to a chair, squirming, mewling, and begging as she flooded the room with aphrodisiac S-gas was like nothing else.

That was why the sight of Sheila, grumpy, disaffected, bored, or only just barely teased was so infuriating! Phantom pulled out all the stops.

First, she'd simply bound her up and tied her to a chair. The interrogations went nowhere. She didn't say a thing about SEBORA or her crew or her connections to a supposed intelligent network. She didn't even swear or curse Phantom, demanding release! In fact, even the threat of awful torments and tortures had little effect on the woman. "I'll have you strapped up in the crew's quarters for all to see! I'll have you fed to my living plants in the arboretum!" 

Still, there was some fun to be had. Sheila was a gorgeous trophy.

- - - 

"XO, I just wanted you to know..."

The Executive Officer was silent. The professional soldier waited for the Directrix to speak. He knew that she wanted him to play along, but he instead played by the book. He waited for his commanding officer, the Directrix, to finish.

"...I wanted you to knooow..."

He waited again. Phantom furrowed her brow.

"... I wanted you to know that you and the ship are as aesthetically pleasing as the day we hijacked her. Even as I add more crew and more trophies, I want you - and the entire bridge crew - to know just how much I appreciate your loyalty."

"Yes, mistress," echoed the XO and the crew.

"And of course, that the price for any disloyalty ranges from the lethal to the highly unpleasant. Anyway, as you were, as you were. Try not to get too distracted by my latest acquisition."

Her 'latest acquisition' had blue hair, towered more than two meters in height, and was currently squirming on the ground like an animal. Phantom loved it. She started to suspect that Sheila liked it , as well.

The captive had been fitted in what must have been the finest sleepsack she'd ever made. Every measurement of her body was triple-checked, and the sack's rubbery embrace had been electronically 3D-printed onto her by experimental fabricators. It had seams, but it didn't need them. It was tight, stretchy, breathable, and if Phantom wanted, permanent. She gloated over Sheila as it was finished, gently moving her hands up and down the woman's form. Sheila grunted in displeasure, which brought Phantom a rare moment of glee.

Sheila had been carried down to the bridge, whereupon she'd been ceremoniously placed on the floor near the Captain's chair - where the Directrix, of course, oversaw the bridge - and then lashed in place! A thick, wide dog collar was locked around her neck, and a length of high-tensile cable was attached to the base of the chair. 

The result was that the vac-packed Sheila was Phantom's plaything and pet, and she was there for all to see. The woman moaned and groaned into a sheath-gag that covered her mouth and nose. Phantom let her squirm and wriggle her way around the room,  never giving her more than a few meters of distance. 

The sounds were delectable. There was the constant squish and squeak of thick rubber, of course. Then there were the occasional grunts of effort. This all meshed with the straining sound of Sheila pulling on her collar, worming around like a clumsy snake. When she got quiet, Phantom took her long, shining rubber boot and teased her pet with it; rubbing the smooth edge along her rear, nuzzling her back in place, or gently maneuvering her to pose beneath her chair.

Sheila was forced to listen to every inane order that the Directrix gave. As the ship's pet, she was also forced to endure every single gentle scratch and pet that Phantom provided! There was nothing quite so demeaning as the sensation of the Directrix's gloved fingers gently teasing their way across her hair, moving their warm, rubbery digits to the base of her neck and slowly massaging. Sheila was simply not having it.

But Phantom had Sheila, and that was what mattered. 

"Oh Sheila..." the Directrix spoke with all the honey-sweet tone of a mother comforting a child. "There's no need to be so very resistant." 

The Directrix picked her up. She was heavy, but Phantom acquitted herself well. She spread her legs slightly, and leaned Sheila up against her captain's chair. The blue-haired woman was now facing forward, unable to see her captor, with her body and head between Phantom's legs. She blushed a bit, recognizing that her head was very gently crested between the knees of the Directrix. Her peripheral vision was nothing but the sexy, sensual black of toned thighs encased in shiny goodness.

"Hnnnfm."

Phantom felt a smile crack. She moved her hands across her captive's head, taking time to caress it with earnest affection. Sheila felt probing hands stroking her hair, running fingers through it before moving on. She felt the most soft and calculated of touches against her ears. Then another against her neck. She almost shivered, but managed to stifle it.

There was no comparable sensation to the mistress's hands on the little bare skin that Sheila still presented. She rubbed and massaged her temples. It was masterful. It was almost - almost - pleasant. Sheila softened slightly, letting her body relax a bit as the Directrix petted more and more deeply. 

Even through her thick gag, she felt the captain's fingers. Her lips puckered slightly, eager for a quick touch through gag and glove. She'd been gagged very thoroughly this trip... but, just as Phantom had been worn down, Sheila had as well. She wasn't feeling nearly as bitey today. 

Just as the Directrix prepared to remove her rubber-wrapped package's gag, she heard a gentle warning whistle. A familiar-looking ship had appeared on long-range scanners. The executive officer gave Phantom a look of concern and stepped forward, nimbly moving past the gagged and sacked woman's form as though she were a minor obstruction on the bridge. He had time for a quick look of concern, making eye contact with Sheila. They shared an exasperated sigh before the XO explained the presence of the Mettoria-II.

Phantom cooed. Sheila moaned. Perhaps the Directrix would be giving her some more playmates.