tagSci-Fi & FantasyAlya's Last Drop

Alya's Last Drop


Alya was just finishing up her strength training ritual for the day when the alarm went off. All marines to drop shuttles. She ran along the ship's curved hallway to the armory to suit up, and then to her squad's drop hangar. She hoped as she headed in to the launch pod that it would be empty, since the first marine at the ready gets point coming out of the shuttle, and Alya loved point. She climbed into the shielded deployment pod and -- shit! -- there was Fletcher, suited up and pretending to nap. "Almost made it, Caswell, have fun watching my ass."

"Can it, Fletcher," Alya snapped, "or I'll call for a bait line pattern just to fuck up your kill count."

"You sure talk a mean line for someone without enough authority to suck my dick."

Alya winced silently, how had work got out so fast that she'd lost breeding rights? But there was no time to ponder, the rest of the squad was arriving and soon it would be time to drop. Her HUD came online with her briefing info: ship scanners had picked up a xenophile encampment on a nearby planetoid and they were to wipe it.

Alya hated xenophiles, as all good marines did. They were organically modified humans, and a real bitch to kill; this would not be an easy sweep.

The marines locked into the drop pod and signaled ready to launch. The bay opened and they felt a couple of gees as the pod sped toward the planetoid. On planetfall, the pod burst open and the squad took up cover positions, knowing full well that their impact had betrayed their position. Suddenly, the infrared sensor in Alya's suit whited out as the surface of the planetoid ruptured and hot air came surging out. The fuckers were under them! "Sappers!" she cried into her radio, hopping to the edge of the tunnel and aiming her bolt-caster into it. As soon as the dust cleared she would be ready to put a spike into one of those damned transgenic rebel bastards.

Tragically, the xenophiles had no intention of waiting for the dust to clear. Alya felt a wet *splorch* hit her suit, and within seconds she was cemented in place, helpless. She watched as a group of modified hulks swarmed her squad and unmercifully threw them off the planetoid into deep space. She couldn't decide which was worse, being captured like her or being spaced, since the corps had a clear policy of not burning precious fuel to fish lost marines out of the depths. Fletcher and them would starve or run out of O2 while she...

...Shit, what would happen to her? Captured by a rebel force of gene-tweakers, she might just prefer spacing. She watched, frozen solid by goo, as the hulks scooped her up and carried her into the tunnel. A solvent was poured over her gun-hand, and she was disarmed as the goo softened. Soon she was brought into a room with a stone slab in the middle, surrounded by equipment, some sort of exam room.

Soon enough, Alya discovered that it was not just her that the equipment was there to observe. The hulks carrying her left the room, locking the door behind them. Then a mechanical sprayer dissolved the stuff on her suit. She immediately ran for the door, using her HUD to check for weak spots. Seeing the electromagnetic noise coming from the lock, she reasoned that maybe she would jury-rig an escape using the equipment in the room. She turned to look over the apparati, and then she saw it.

There was a... thing coming up through a sluice gate in the floor. Oozing, that would be the correct term. As it emerged, it filled just under a cubic meter of space, some sort of amorphous reddish-purple jelly. Alya tapped her HUD controls to get a more detailed reading on the thing, but the machine was still chunking away at the data when the thing pounced.

She hadn't imagined this thing would be fast, from the look of it, but it cleared the two meters between them in just a fraction of a second, only enough time for a suit-assisted reaction to cover her faceplate with her arms to protect her head. It hardly mattered; as the force of the impact knocked her against the door, the creature leaked around her forearms as easily as it had bypassed the sluice.

Alya tried desperately to scrape the thing off, but wherever her hands went, the creature's body gave way and shifted its grasp, there was no way for her to clear all the points it was gripping at once. So here she was, blinded and weighed down by a cubic meter of thing enveloping her helmet and hanging down her torso. The time had come for her to choose from a set of very unpleasant options:

A) She could follow protocol and set off the emergency internal frag in her suit, giving her a chance to go out with 'dignity' instead of capture. She quickly wrote that off as too desperate. B) She could jettison the suit; it had failsafe charges to send it flying away from her in sections. That might dislodge the creature for a moment, but she didn't know what she would do in that moment, especially without the suit. C) She could try to negotiate with her captors. She had kept silent till now, out of marine pride, but she really didn't want to be lunch for the blob. She kicked on her radio.

"Excuse me, transhuman radical guys. Isn't it against your principles or something to feed a fellow sentient to your experiments?"

A strange voice responded, "Not food, friend. Relax and enjoy your new home."

"Uh, no offence to the host, but I kind of prefer my old ho-" She doubted the rest of her protest got through, as she heard a loud *crack* and the thing pried open her helmet. She gasped and held her breath as the thing began to ooze through the opening.

It began creeping into her suit, breaking seals and bursting seams as it went. Alya got her first tactile impression of the thing. It was wet and slithery and... strangely warm. No, not just warm, tingly, like the moisture was poking her nerve endings and waking them all up. Things got a little awkward for Alya as the thing tore open her chest plate and the moisture penetrated the fabric of her undershirt, lighting up her nipples. She started to remember the last time she'd gotten a rotation of breeding leave, the man she'd bunked with had been a genius with his tongue. Alya lost herself for a moment and sighed, and that was when she got a taste of the thing's pheremonal feature. It had a faint but lively aroma, like the time on her last leave when they got to go planetside and fuck like rabbits in the municipal gardens. She knew, intellectually, that she was being sense-hacked, that she was just drunk on xenophile sex drugs, but just knowing it was not enough to sober her up. She began wondering just how much farther she'd make it on this ride before her first orgasm.

Alya was giddy, she began giggling and talking to the thing as it ripped away at her suit, "Here, let me help you with that, the leg joints are always such a pain," she popped the release on her lower body, stepped out of her suit, and climbed onto the table to get off of her trembling legs. She felt the thing trying to get under her fatigues, and she grinned stupidly, "You naughty boy! My clothes are all filthy now, better get them off..." She found her utility knife and made short work of her shirt and pants and continued to amuse herself by pretending her captor understood her, like it was just another lover she was teasing, "Oh my, but now how ever am I going to keep warm? Any suggestions?"

As it would turn out, the best option the thing could provide was to cover her body, neck to feet on all sides. Then the creature began to undulate rhythmically, sending rippling waves of pressure down her body. The pressure waves had a massaging effect; Alya was now bathing in sensory overload. When the waves reached her feet, they rebounded and traveled back up her legs, and a new set of waves started at her neck. The waves met at her waist, peaked, and as they receded, Alya felt an inward push as the thing throbbed against her pussy, parting her lips. She felt the thing directly against her clit for the first time, and the fluid it was secreting was at least tenfold better than the sonic shower she'd reconfigured back in her bunk.

Another pulse came, and the thing pushed deeper, probing its way up her vaginal walls. Now there was enough of it inside her that she felt the tiny undulations as the thing rippled and squirmed inside her cunt. Her back began to arch involuntarily, and the thing oozed under her head to serve as a pillow. The thing withdrew from her, and a ripple traced its way up her spine, then back down as the thing thrust into her once again, quickly and with force. Alya climaxed then, and climaxed hard. Everything about her, all she was, and all she knew at this moment was fully engaged in rapt attention to this thing fucking her. She gasped, and cried out, and silently wished to herself as she was writhing in orgasm that this sensation would never go away.

It was then that she heard, in a language she couldn't explain how she understood it, "Neurological assessment complete, begin symbiosis." And the thing enveloped her completely, tendrils entering her mouth, nose, ears, and anus. Within a matter of hours, she was ready to begin her new life as a xenophile hulk.

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