PVT Stewart Peter Bate was surprised and a little happy when he found the unconscious naked girl on a bed. He knew she was unconscious rather than sleeping because she hadn't stirred when Bate had put a hand on one of her big boobs and given it a squeeze.
Not fake, he noted approvingly.
He wondered what she—and the bed—were doing here.
The bed was possibly the weirder of the two.
There were plenty of reasons why she could be here. She could be a medic, auxiliary, scientist... heck, they were even letting the weaker sex carry guns nowadays. The bed was tougher to rationalize. It was big, fancy and had a deep mattress. Bate had no idea what it was doing in this otherwise deserted underground complex. Maybe it had gotten spliced here or something like that. He'd heard that could happen—freak events that caused bits of our world to disappear and show up here in H-space. He remembered hearing about an explo squad coming across a children's playground in the middle of nowhere.
The naked girl was a real sweetie. Blonde, big-titted, slim belly, nice legs—just how Bate liked them.
And totally out of it...
Was it one of theirs? He knew the eggheads were feeling the strain of not making sense of things out here. Had one of them gone off the reservation and engaged in some ethics-free experimentation? The girl was out of it so deep Bate reckoned she had to have been drugged.
Bate ran through some calculations in his head. Here he was, in an out-of-the-way room, with a bed and a sleeping beauty.
Now this is what was commonly known as an opportunity...
Bate checked both ways along the corridor outside. He closed the door and leaned a chair up against the handle.
Bate had grown up with nothing and still didn't have much. He'd learned that whenever God handed you an opportunity, you took it.
He didn't think he had long. He didn't need long. A quick in'n'out, bust out a nut—that's all the long he needed.
She'd never know it happened. That made it a victimless crime as far as Bate was concerned. And if there was no victim, was it really a crime?
He put his gun and kit away to one side and got up on the bed. The mattress was a little soft, but that was fine. He looked at the girl sprawled out before him and could barely rein in his excitement. She looked so cute and unsullied—like a small-town cheerleader before she'd been gone through by the whole football team.
Bate leaned over her and gave both her breasts a squeeze. These were some fine titties. He gave them a jiggle and plumped them together. Real fine titties.
Bate turned his attentions to between her legs. Down there she was shaved and very neat and tidy. Just the way Bate liked 'em. He slid a finger up between her folds. Nice and tight. Bate liked 'em that way too.
The girl didn't stir. They must have shot her up with something powerful.
Best not hang around, Bate thought.
He fished a condom out of one of his pockets and gave it a kiss. Bate always carried one around. You never knew when you were going to get lucky. And, right now, Bate was lucky. He dropped his trousers and slid the rubber over his boner. Best to be safe when it came to strange pussy. You never knew where strange pussy had been and what it had allowed inside it. Better safe than STD.
He pushed her legs apart to grant better access to her sex. He spat in his palm and rubbed the spit along his shaft. Get it all lubed up, he thought to himself. Then, slide it in.
Bate did just that. The girl was tight, but also surprisingly moist.
Someone's dreaming slutty dreams," he chuckled.
He grabbed a generous handful of each tit and moved his hips up and down on top of her.
"Oh yeah, you have one tight cooze," Bate said down to the unconscious girl.
Oh yeah, this was good. Tight. Warm. It wouldn't take him long. Yeah, slide it in deep, fire that nut off, then be gone. No one would ever know.
The girl opened her eyes and looked up at Bate. That alone would have been bad enough, but it was worse. His sweet little blonde cheerleader had black pebbles for eyes and a smile like one of those possessed people in horror films.
One of Bate's most important rules when it came to fucking was don't stick your dick in cray-cray.
Bate was balls deep in cray-cray.
Bate was stuck balls deep in cray-cray.
He couldn't pull out. It was like she was full of glue.
It wasn't the only place he was stuck. His hands were stuck to her titties, only they didn't feel too much like titties any more. He tried to pull his right hand away and her flesh stretched with it like flesh-colored taffy.
The girl languidly wrapped her legs around Bate's waist. He tried to pull free, failed, lost his balance and fell down on her. Her titties definitely weren't right. His left hand sank into her big round breast right up to his wrist. The same happened to his right hand as he tried to pull himself out. The thing that resembled a naked blonde cheerleader gave a little flex and Bate's arms sank into her up to the elbows.
What was happening? What the fuck was happening!
The girl put her arms around him like a lover embracing her love. It wasn't just her. The mattress rose up on either side of them. He was sinking with the girl into the mattress and the rest of the bed was slowly folding up around them.
The lingering awareness he'd been engaged in illegal activity kept him from crying out until it was too late. That option was taken away from him. The mimic placed a hand on the back of his head and forced him down until her lips met his. Her lips glued to him and formed a sticky seal around his mouth. They stretched and held like elastic as Bate tried to pull away. His cries were smothered in her mouth.
In the panic he'd forgotten he was still inside her. He remembered again in a hurry as her malleable pussy started to squeeze and tug his pride'n'joy. His boner should have been long dead, but the mimic kept him hard and aroused with skillful ministrations of her soft cunt.
Her pussy was way more malleable and dexterous than any human pussy. She peeled the condom off Bate's cock and swallowed it into her body. Then the stimulation began in earnest. Her sticky pussy assaulted his erection with a series of squeezes and jerks that made Bate feel like he'd been tied up and left in the hands of a highly experienced rub'n'tug joint hooker.
That calmed Bate a little. He'd heard about the hindig denizens of H-space. Supposedly they were more interested in fucking than eating, and her touches seemed more lascivious than hungry.
Still, it was disconcerting as she folded up around him and he sank into her. Her malleable body engulfed his arms and rippled against his back and sides.
Bate's fears lessened as she continued to manipulate his cock with deft squeezes and tugs. Was it a hand or her pussy? Whatever Bate's cock was in, it felt like the best of both.
Yeah, she was way too good. Bate shuddered in bliss and emptied a full nut inside her. She drank it up like a sponge. Bate was fine with that. If she was going to keep working his cock like that, she could drink his cum all day and night.
If Bate had known that was exactly what the mimic intended to do with him, and what it would do to his body, he might have felt differently.
The second orgasm followed right after the first. That felt awesome too. So did the third. The fourth wasn't bad, but Bate felt twinges in both his cock and nuts after the euphoric high had worn off. A few more orgasms and he wanted her to stop as it was starting to hurt. The mimic kept going and pumped another couple of orgasms out of Bate. Now his balls were dry and no more would come out no matter how skillfully the mimic squeezed him.
The mimic squeezed his whole body instead. She drew Bate deeper into her and squeezed and squeezed until his bones snapped, his internal organs ruptured and his body scrunched down into a little ball. She drank the fluids that leaked from his mangled form and kept squeezing until no more fluids emerged.
All they found of PVT Stewart Peter Bate was his discarded kit.