Chapter 1: Split Decision, Shared Submission
The cold of the grated floor seeped through the soles of Chris’s boots as he paused at the junction. The air hummed, a low, metallic thrum that vibrated in his teeth. Two identical dark corridors stretched away into nothingness, swallowed by shadows and the intermittent flicker of a failing light strip.
“We’re losing time,” Chris said, his voice a low whisper against the ship’s endless groan. He glanced at Jenny. Her blonde hair was tied back in a severe ponytail, emphasizing the youthful wideness of her eyes. She clutched her space rifle like a lifeline. “We split up. You take the left passage. I’ll take the right. Signal if you find anything, anything at all.”
Jenny nodded, a quick, nervous jerk of her chin. “Left. Got it.” She moved off, her figure quickly dissolving into the gloom.
Chris went right. Fifty paces in, the corridor terminated in a solid wall of riveted steel. A dead end. Swearing under his breath, he doubled back, his pace quickening. The silence from Jenny’s comm was a heavy weight in his ear.
He found the open doorway halfway down the left corridor. A sliver of yellow light spilled out, cutting a sharp line across the dark floor. He could hear sounds now. A scuffle. Fragments of Jenny’s voice, tight and strained. “...get off... don’t...” Then a deeper, male voice, laughing. “Relax, little bird.”
Chris crept forward, his rifle raised. He pressed his shoulder against the cold wall and risked a look through the narrow opening. The angle was bad. All he could see was a blank, grey wall and, piled against it, a familiar blue jumpsuit. Jenny’s boots were beside it. Then, a flash of white cotton—her sports bra—landed on the pile, followed by a pair of simple grey panties.
A cold dread seized him. Then another sound began, rhythmic and obscene. The steady, repetitive squeak of a mattress. And with each squeak, a soft, helpless moan from Jenny, punctuated by a low, satisfied grunt from a man.
Rage, hot and blinding, obliterated his training. He shifted his grip on the rifle, ready to kick the door in.
A hand clamped over his mouth from behind, yanking his head back. Another wrenched the rifle from his grasp. A sharp, burning sting pierced the side of his neck. His muscles went loose and heavy, a warm lethargy spreading through his veins. He was being held up by strong arms.
“Lost your little friend, did you?” a woman’s voice murmured in his ear, condescending and smooth. “Don’t worry. You’ll be reunited.”
They half-dragged, half-carried him. He tried to struggle, but his limbs were filled with lead. He felt his boots being unlaced and pulled off. The door swung open fully.
The room was a barracks, sparse and utilitarian. On one of two low-slung mattresses, Jenny was on her back. Her legs were spread, knees bent, her feet flat on the mattress. A naked man was on top of her, his muscular, tattooed back blocking most of her from view. His hips pistoned steadily, and Chris could see the full, slick length of his cock sliding in and out of her pink, stretched pussy with each thrust. Jenny’s head was turned to the side, her eyes squeezed shut, her mouth open in a silent gasp.
The women—three of them in crisp grey uniforms—efficiently stripped him. His jumpsuit was peeled away and tossed onto the pile with Jenny’s clothes. Then his boxers were slid down his thighs. His cock, stiffened by a confusing cocktail of adrenaline, fear, and the drug, sprang free.
One of the women, tall and muscular with a severe bun, gave a dry chuckle. “Seems eager, Valera.”
The one named Valera, who had spoken in his ear, pushed him hard. He stumbled forward and landed on the empty mattress beside Jenny’s. The impact jarred him.
Jenny turned her head at the sound. Her eyes, glazed with shock and pleasure, met his. There was a shameful flush on her chest. She watched, mesmerized, as Valera began to unbutton her own uniform.
Valera was all lean muscle and pale skin. She didn’t speak as she finished undressing, her movements economical and unselfconscious. She knelt over Chris on the mattress, her knees framing his hips. She reached down, her fingers cool as they wrapped around his throbbing cock. She gave him a few slow, firm strokes, her eyes locked on his, a faint, mocking smile on her lips.
“See?” she whispered. “It’s easier if you just stop fighting.”
She positioned herself above him, her other hand spreading her lower lips. She guided the head of his cock to her entrance, and then, without ceremony, she sank down onto him in one smooth, devastating motion. She was tight and wet, and a choked groan was forced from his throat.
She began to move, a slow, rolling grind of her hips that took him deeper with every rise and fall. The sound of her body meeting his, a soft, wet slap, mixed with the relentless squeaking from the other mattress and the grunts of the man fucking Jenny.
Chris’s hands came up, not to push her away, but to grip her hips. His mind screamed in protest, but his body, traitorous and primal, responded. He thrust upward, meeting her descent. Valera’s smirk widened. She leaned forward, her breasts hovering near his face, her pace quickening.
“That’s it,” she breathed, her voice husky. “Just like that. Welcome to the crew.”
Welcome to the crew.”
The words were a venomous kiss in his ear. Chris’s body was a traitor, his hips moving in a brutal, instinctual rhythm against Valera’s, his cock buried deep inside her. But his eyes were locked on Jenny.
Anton, the man on top of her, was a machine of muscle and tattooed skin. Each of his thrusts was a deliberate, powerful impact that jarred her entire body. Jenny’s blonde ponytail was a mess, strands stuck to her glistening temples and neck. With every drive of Anton’s hips, her head rocked back, her small, pert breasts bouncing, their tight peaks flushed and hard. The entire length of her body slid back and forth on the thin mattress, a helpless doll being used.
A stark, white line was etched across her hips, the ghost of her panties pressed into her skin. Another, sharper line cut across her ribcage and back from the tight band of her sports bra. They were marks of haste, proof of how quickly she’d been stripped, how little time had passed since she was in her uniform, a cadet on a mission. His eyes flicked to the pile of fabric against the wall. Her grey panties were there, inside out. The soft, inner lining, the part meant to rest against her most private skin, was exposed to the cold, indifferent air. It was a detail so intimate it felt like a deeper violation than anything else.
Anton shifted his grip, his large hands digging into the soft flesh of her ass, pulling her onto him with more force. Her ass was a perfect, spherical shape, and with each thrust, it sank into the mattress, the cheeks flattening and jiggling from the impact. A sharp, choked cry was punched out of her, a sound that was equal parts pain and something else, something raw and involuntary.
“See something you like?” Valera purred, her own movements becoming more demanding, her inner muscles clenching around him. She followed his gaze. “Or someone?”
Chris couldn’t answer. He was caught in the horrific tableau. The squeak of the other mattress was a taunt. The wet, slapping sound of skin on skin was a drumbeat. Jenny’s eyes were open now, wide and unseeing, fixed on the ceiling. A single tear traced a path through the sweat on her temple, but her back was arching, her body responding to the relentless friction.
Anton grunted, a final, guttural sound, and drove into her one last time, holding himself deep. Chris watched, his own climax tearing through him with a shameful violence, his seed pulsing into Valera as he stared at the ruined, glistening form of his partner, the pale lines on her skin a permanent brand of their failure.
Closes view of discarded white sports jogging bra and discarded gray panties in a heap flat on the floor in the corner of a space ship room.
Very hot blonde girl who is stunningly attractive with blue jumpsuit uniform while walking down dark hallway of space craft while looking to the side and holding a rifle. Next to her is a handsome man with similar jumpsuit and rifle looking to the side while walking.