Rose didn’t know how long she’d been in the crate. Her back ached; the cool metal of her container offering no comfort. Why should it? It’s not like it was made to ship people like this. The air was stuffy, and the air purification strips stuck to her neck were slightly whirring with the strain. It was all worth it though. Worth it to be off of that terrible rimworld. It was the kind of place you didn’t stay unless you couldn’t afford to leave. Rose had always dreamed of leaving. Of seeing the stars and discovering new things, and she couldn’t do any of that from that damned rock. That’s why she took the risk when a supply cruiser had landed in her town. Why she slipped in the crate when no one was looking, strapping the purification strips she had stolen to her neck and praying they worked.

Now all she had to do was wait. It was an uncomfortable wait. She had had to contort her lithe body to get in the crate, and there wasn’t much affordance to move, small as she was. She looked at the monitor attached to her wrist; the dim light illuminating her temporary prison. “Twenty-three percent air purity” was the readout from the strips. She still needed to wait. She needed to last as long as possible or there was a chance that the cruiser might deem it worth the cost to waste an escape pod jettisoning her back to her wasteland home. She had heard stories of others escaping rimworlds like this: by stowing away and waiting until it was no longer feasible to waste resources returning you. The cruiser would have to dump her on the next inhabitable planet, and she could figure things out from there. Even that was more of a shot at the life she wanted than anything she would find back home. So she waited in her box.

Her mind wandered to the thoughts of being the captain of a ship just like this. Of travelling the void and seeing what the galaxy had to offer. Foods and peoples and places of all varieties. All she had to do was wait a little longer. Her watch buzzed. “Fifteen percent air purity”, it warned. Should she raise the lid at ten? Five? How long could she wait before it got dangerous? The strips could malfunction working this hard. Her heartbeat starts to rise as her watch flickered over to fourteen percent. She considers raising the lid even now, and weighs it against the extra five minutes of distance warp drive would put between them and her homeworld.

Just as she raises her hand to push the lid from her container, there’s a loud crashing like steel scraping steel. She’s jostled hard against the walls of the crate as it feels like it’s thrown across the room. More crashing. Warning sirens now. Hissing. She reaches out, desperate to release herself, but she’s thrown again and her head connects with the lid. Hard. She hardly registers the words that play over the ship’s loudspeaker as her vision goes black. “Foreign object collision. Sealing sector for repair”.

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The frantic beeping of her watch rings through her sore head, crashing her back to consciousness. Her eyes take a second to refocus, though they shoot wide once they register the words in front of her. Despite the throbbing between her ears, she reaches out and gives a firm shove. The lid screeches open a crack: just the corner. All of the jostling must have bent it. Still, the rush of cool ship air gives her the energy to push again, and this time the lid creaks open. She half-unfurls half-collapses her way out of the box. The cool titanium floor of the ship is hard against her back, but still feels refreshing against her sore limbs. She feels the intense humming against her neck calm as the strips recalibrate to normal air. Checking her watch just to be sure, she finally lets herself breathe as it ticks up past the heartwrenching “two percent” readout. She rests her head against the floor and allows herself a precious moment to relax; the first she’s had since she left home that morning.

She doesn’t rest long. Rising to her still-asleep feet, she surveys her surroundings. Or tries to. The room around her is pitch black. Whether that was a result of the crashing around earlier or just how cruisers keep their storage room she could only guess at. She clicked through options on her watch display, and before long a narrow light shines out from the front of it. She scans it over the boxes around her, trying to get her bearings. The boxes are strewn around like her’s was, and she realizes how lucky she was the another didn’t fall near her and block her hatch. Making her way around a pile of crates, she follows the wall with her light. Eventually it scans across a door, and she carefully makes her way to it. The panel on the wall blinks to life as she approaches. It’s a simple mechanism, one she’s seen before. She flips the switch, but instead of the welcoming blue light and the woosh of the door opening, she’s met with a dim, angry red and a frustratingly still-sealed door. She tries a few more times, already knowing the outcome. Scanning back down the wall, she finds another switch not too far from her, this time without a door. Flicking it, her eyes are forced painfully closed as the harsh fluorescent lights in the room come alive.

Once the pounding in her head stops and she can open her eyes, she flicks the light off on her watch. Finally able to see the room in full, she marvels at the sheer size. The ceiling is low and tight, but the room stretches long, using every inch of the ship efficiently. It’s filled with the same crates as the one she had stowed away in, all uniform with only labels to differentiate them. The were thrown about in an absolute mess. Piles of them littered the room like discarded children’s toys. Only much heavier. There was only one other thing of note in the room. The hole.

In contrast with the hard edges and deliberate design of the ship, the large hole torn through the corner of the room seemed almost alien. The titanium had bent and twisted in crazy angles, even melting and re-fusing in some places. Rose cautiously approached. Her fears of depressurization were quickly assuaged as, getting closer, she noticed that the hole had somehow been neatly plugged. What looked like a thick layer of some sort of rock-hard foam sealed the entrance shut. She followed the path of the impact with her eyes. Whatever had struck the ship had blown through the wall and struck the floor, though the floor under the hole was only dented, with heavy skid markings belaying the path of the object. She follows along the path the markings had left, climbing around haphazard crates when needed. Finally the black streaks reach the other side of the room, and she swallows a hard lump in her throat. The far wall was dented too, but not pierced. More importantly, in front of the wall, a few meters away, as if it had bounced, was whatever had struck the ship.

It was a small sphere, maybe half a meter across. She cautiously approaches, never taking her eyes off of it. It’s a deep black, but the surface almost seems to ripple and flow as if it was liquid oil. The movement of the surface caused wild patterns of light to dance across the surface, almost mesmerizing in their complexity. It seemed completely undamaged by the collision; it’s surface looked perfectly spherical, without as much as a hint of denting or scuffing. Perfect. That was about the only word Rose could imagine to describe it. It made a noise too, or at least Rose figured that it was the sphere emitting the deep humming sound echoing lightly through the room. It seemed to almost soothe her sore head, getting slightly louder as she approached. She stood in front of it, her eyes following the patterns across the surface, trying to make some sense of them. Then she caught herself. She had been reaching out, ready to touch the thing. She stumbles a step backwards, only now realizing she’d somehow got within arm’s reach.

She swallows hard again, never taking her eyes off the strange sphere. Normally she would have been terrified, but something about the deep humming in her head and the strange striations across the surface of the sphere were just so calming. Without even noticing, she re-takes the step towards the sphere, kneeling in front of it to get a better look. From this distance the patterns were even more complex, like they somehow shone through the surface, penetrating deep into the center of the liqui-solid orb. Slow, elaborate dances of colours she didn’t know existed. All the while the humming grew louder and more complete; her headache long gone now, replaced with nothing but a strange warm melancholy she hadn’t felt before. Again she noticed herself reaching out to touch it, but she didn’t stop herself this time. It feels somehow… right. Like she’s supposed to touch it. So she does.

The sphere ripples as her fingertips gently graze the surface, reacting to her touch. It’s a little warmer than her skin, with a strange semi-solid texture. The colours dance around her fingers, moving in graceful swirls to avoid her touch. She pushes her hand a little deeper, gently penetrating the surface. The warmth of whatever the orb was made of made her fingers tingle, and seemed to almost radiate up her arm. She stared, eyes wide in wonder as she watched the mesmerizing patterns swirl and adapt to her hand.

Suddenly, the surface of the sphere began to quake and ripple of its’ own accord. The liquid of it almost seemed to be pooling against her hand, now almost wrist deep. She starts, knocked out of her trance, as the oily substance starts to move up her wrist. Panic floods through her head as the liquid quickly make its’ way under the sleeve of her jumpsuit and up her forearm, almost to her elbow before she can react. She pulls back, trying to free herself, only to find the hold on her arm much stronger than she had thought. It was almost as if there was a suction keeping her attached to it. She struggles, pulling at her own arm frantically as the strange black liquid reaches her shoulder; it’s grip on her only getting tighter. She screams, calling out for help, for anyone.

The heat is intense as the oil starts to cover her chest. She shivers as it spreads over her body, almost feeling as if it was squirming over her skin. To her surprise, while she can feel it continue to spread lower down her body, it stops around her neck, not spreading any higher. It seems to want to stay beneath her jumpsuit. Only being able to feel it spreading only makes her panic more. She shivers again as it coats her tits, starting to make its’ way up to her other shoulder and down her stomach simultaneously. She can’t help but let out a gasp as she feels something else. Like a light suction against each of her nipples. It feels purposeful, but how could it be? Regardless the heat and suction have an effect on her, hardening her nipples under the oil, though she pushes the feeling to the back of her mind in her panic.

The liquid continues, moving methodically over her body, stopping again at her other wrist. The orb itself seems strangely unphased; the only movement it makes the slight rippling against her fingers. It even seems somehow the same size, though her body was nearly half coated now. She could feel it now against her naval and the small of her back, washing over her hips. Somehow the heat was different here: warmer and deeper. Her eyes go wide as she braces herself for what she knows is next. The heat washes over her ass, starting to creep between her thighs. She tries to hold her legs closed tight, but the liquid simply seeps through. Her whole body twitches as the liquid finally started to run over her sex, coating her lips with its’ intense heat.

A deep shiver runs through her as she realizes that it isn’t stopping. While some of the liquid continues down her thighs, it also starts to spread internally. She feels it move between her lips, gently opening them and pushing into her entrance. It feels thicker here, almost more viscous as it pushes inside her, spreading her to accommodate itself. It keeps spreading her too, widening her around it; her pussy helpless to do anything other than be filled by it. She’s hardly paying attention as it runs past her calves, stopping at her ankles. She’s focused solely on how it fills her, so completely, now deep in her.

Her attention is brought away from her rapidly filling pussy as the liquid connecting her to the sphere breaks away. The last bit on her hand seeps up to her wrist, freeing her while also completely coating her under her jumpsuit. The orb looks to return to its’ normal state; glassy and calm. Her hands rocket to her crotch, pawing at her pussy, but the coating of the liquid is complete; no matter how she pulls or claws at it, the semi-solid material won’t come away. It continues moving though. Filling her to the point she could swear it will break her. There’s no pain though, only the deep heat of the stuff. Only once it fills her completely, stuffing her pussy wide, does it stop its’ movement.

Finally she has a moment to breathe. She falls to her knees, exhausted both by her fight and her panic. She only has a moment though, before the liquid starts to move again. This time it doesn’t move across her body, instead moving against it. The mild suction on her tits grows harder, pulling them roughly now. Between her legs too, the liquid starts to writhe. What’s inside her almost seems to get harder; more solid. It pushes in and out of her, and her mind reels. Oh god. It’s fucking me. She tries again to struggle, to do anything to stop it, but she finds her arms held fast. It doesn’t let her move, holding her tightly as it fucks her. She tries to ignore it, to think of anything else, but the heat is so deep in her now, and to her dismay she can feel herself getting wet against her intruder.

It almost seems to react to her wetness, pushing into her harder and deeper. She hates it, but it felt amazing. It hits every spot deep in her like it was made for her. Before long her pussy is drenching it, and it slams into her. She tightens her lips, desperate to not moan, to not like… this. But her pussy reacts. She knows what’s going to happen; she can already feel it. No!, she thought. She couldn’t let it make her cum. She didn’t have much of a choice.

Her pussy convulses around it as it brings her to orgasm. Fuck, fuck, fuck. She can’t help but gasp, a deep guttural moan forced from her lips. It doesn’t stop though, the thing keeps fucking her, deep and hard, through her orgasm, forcing it out longer and harder. She cries out as the heat intensifies deep in her core, the thrusting never stopping. There’s only a second or two before her second orgasm, and then her third. She only seems to cum harder each time it fucks one out of her, each quickly surpassing the last as the best orgasm she’d ever had. She can hardly think as it uses her completely, her pussy forced to cum, spread wide around this alien thing.

She wasn’t sure how long it took before she passed out from the pleasure, but she woke up different. The liquid was still there, under her jumpsuit, but it seemed almost dormant. Her pussy was still spread wide around it, but it was no longer thrusting. She was soaked though; she could feel it. She was more turned on than she had ever been. She wanted more, for it to never end. She reaches down instinctively between her legs, her body wanting to masturbate on its’ own. The liquid still blocks her though, to her dismay. She needs it.

The deep humming starts back up, vibrating around in her head. She turns to the orb, mystified. She looks deep into it again; this amazing object that had given her something so amazing. Then she hears it. Or thinks it. She wasn’t sure. It was an idea, but she was sure it wasn’t her’s. To spread it. To let other’s feel this intense pleasure. They deserved to know just how amazing it was. She stands up, the liquid moving fluidly with her this time. It thrusts between her legs, almost as reinforcement of her choice, as it brings her near orgasm again. It backs off this time just before she cums, leaving her body aching and craving for it to just finish her off. She barely manages to stay on her feet, not noticing as the door to the room opens. The two men who enter looked at each other in shock as they notice the girl in the jumpsuit.

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