The space travel trip began with Catherine Howard, the long descendant of the original fated queen's family, going to the spaceship's CGI room to play out her previous experience with near beheading. She knelt at the headsman's block, waiting for the ax to drop. It was determined a long time ago that as the closest living relative after a thousand years after the fall of the British royalty, that she would be the one to do the honors, and rule the miniature starship.
I went into the travel room, walked across the neon hall, and stepped on the teleporter into the ship. Warping into the Captain's Room, they escorted me to the room where the queen would lose her head. They want to constantly be reminded of my treason in order to make me feel guilt. Having various planets we needed to go, I would be undergoing this shame for a while. To some it sure wins over being shot, but depends on who you talk to. I had a kind of resentment toward Catherine, even if she couldn't help being related to the queen.
Her body guards were not half bad looking, although one eye-balling me like he was somewhat attracted made it uncomfortable. With long curly bright blond hair, she serves as a contrast to my curly brown locks. She wore Jesus sandals without socks. Her chest, in comparison to mine, were a delightful medium b size, where I barely more than a stub. Apparently the guard liked tiny chests.
"So how about we start acting for a new world, instead of acting for the tough crowd on this planet, fuck the shit up of that children's program we used to act in." We used to act as character in a children's program, before they found out Catherine was descended from the British queen. Instead as someone wearing black boots, ladies long underwear (black), and no shirt on do to the slightly warmer weather (the queen likes things hot), they looked at me as if mildly wanting to squeeze my tits.
Even as Catherine laughed at my joke, she wanted nothing to do with me. Not since I tried to behead her for real once.
Just you wait Catherine.
We landed on a once jungle planet, the boys took their space Katanas with them. I merely carried pepper spray to defend myself as Catherine could no longer trust me carrying a Katana. I was the slave who would perform tasks on the ship until they came back or called for me. "Stay here pepper spray girl."
I don't remember how many times I was paddled by the lead guard at the order of the queen. There seemed to be something beyond merely the punishment itself that made her junk puff up. I knew this as the position I was in the direction always had me in the clear view of her pink taco on those nights, but thankfully there was no spankings tonight. It was getting late on this planet. Catherine I knew wanted to have a conversation with me, as she seemed to become less distant over the last few weeks. At times I would see big bright red puffy cheeks.
At camp Catherine spent half her time eating, and the rest giving head to the two guard boys who she payed using blowjobs. She also loved big white fluffy marshmallows she used to eat in grade school. She saw that I stood outside, and snuck up behind me. I half expected her to stab me in the back. Instead she simply stared at me while I avoided her eyes staring into the empty abyss of the mountain side. "I can understand the frustration as someone I used to date. Honestly if I were you I would have decapitated myself as well."
"How would that even work." I asked.
"OK well someone else would be queen."
"Nice try Catherine, means so much." I had to restrain a cackle, picturing her take a space Katana, and slitting her throat till her head eventually rolled along the deck of the Captain's quarters. "Only you can be the queen."
Like I said, we once acted in an intergalactic acting troop for kids. A far cry for the friendliness for children's, I fell a long ways to get to this point. My inner child gradually starving out by the year. We were taken off the air to do a settlement dispute for using the royal families bloodline without permission. It eventually concluded with me becoming the secret sex slave of Catherine, although she never told the guards this. My understanding is she was unsure how the bloodline would feel with her own treason. That maybe she would be beheaded.
I thought beheading her would be a mercy kill.
I suppose it wasn't.
Now we go our separate ways on the ship leaving the once jungle planet. I dream about tap dancing girls and caned fairies. I wanted to rewrite the stage play of my entire life. I dream of Catherine's ancestor's neck chopped through by an ax, her head gradually tumbling into the abyss of the basket, blood dropping quickly. She knows me to well, using beheading rituals to get me to cave.
It's irritating mostly.
We met with new producers in the next world that wanted to interview the traitors not executed. I had nothing else to say to them.100Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzOi4xgjWwV
