Impaled upon the man’s blunt digit, Cynthia could only bite her lip as he prodded teasingly at the hidden little point of her c******s, making her shiver in her confusion and her guilt. Red-faced, she could form no coherent words.
“In any event,” he added, “the tour pretty much stops here.”
Uncertainly Cynthia blinked down the long series of rungs that led dizzyingly down through hatches standing open upon their automatic-close hydraulics in several riveted steel floors—or, perhaps more properly, bulkheads. Clearly there was more to the ship than merely the first dozen feet of the corridor. And despite the horrible situation, she nevertheless was curious to see more of the vessel, for of course, she had never been aboard a spaceship before. “B-but—”
“Captain’s cabin is the highlight, do
