NOTE:
This story features dark and nasty themes of degradation, piss-play, and non-consensual hypnotic conditioning in a sci-fi dystopia. If that doesn't sound like something you want to read, well, you've been warned.
* * *
Huela's head spun as she stumbled awkwardly out of the coldsleep tube, gelatinous goop sliding off of her body, into the awful blast of an icy shower. Behind her, the empty shell
chonked
away down the line, replaced by an identical tube, occupied by a stranger's frozen face.
She hustled out to the lockers and retrieved her things, stepping into her most anonymous travel trousers.
She felt strange. Her first coldsleep experience had been dark and empty, but this time, her thoughts were swimming with half-remembered fragments. She'd woken up alone and disappointed from a sex dream before, but this time the feeling lingered in a way that even the antiseptic environment of the wake-up zone wasn't washing away. Her skin seemed somehow stretched tight, senses on alert.
Huela breathed deep.
She had made it. New planet, new identity cards, new job. She would be a farm machine tech, a step down in pay from her old post in the terraforming office, but she liked the sound of it. Solid, honorable, quiet.
It was still Company territory -- there was herdly anywhere else to go these days -- but it was a place she might be able to disappear for a while.
A window onto space showed one new star, larger than the others. If she watched long enough, she knew it would slowly grow into a sun.
She had a message, summoning her to Captain Verli's meeting room.
"Thank you," she said as she sat down across the table from him. He had probably saved her life. In theory, everyone had been guaranteed a spot on one of the Company's evacuation ships. But to the Company, she was not just any evacuee. She'd have laid even odds that they would simply have ejected her tube out the nearest airlock the moment they were in deep space.
"How were the accommodations?" grinned the captain, poking at a panel and glancing sideways at her. He was leering brazenly at her chest. It ought to bother her, but she brushed it aside.
"Fine," she said. "You wanted to see me?"
She'd hoped to spend the remaining hours of this trip hiding, until it was time to board the shuttle to her new settlement.
She couldn't fully trust this shady captain, even though he'd been recommended by one of her dissident friends. With most of her personal assets sitting abandoned and worthless on a dying planet, she hadn't been able to pay even Captain Verli's usual fare for interstellar transport, much less the extra smuggling fees -- but he'd said that as a friend of the underground, he sometimes did pro bono work.
Huela hadn't meant to become famous. She had only wanted to warn people about the possible catastrophe. At the terraforming office, she'd seen first-hand how the Company's razor-thin safety margins and lack of backup systems had created a risk of runaway atmospheric destabilization. Her warnings had been largely ignored at first, until they started coming true. By then, it was too late to do much other than evacuate the population.
By now, her old planet was an uninhabited husk, listed as
Coming Soon
in the Company planet directory.
The rapid re-emergence of the planet's poisonous natural habitat might have just been a regrettable disaster, but her videos had transmuted it into a juicy scandal. As the news grew more and more dire, she had seen her own face splashed across feeds from several sectors away.
Huela's friends in the underground had told her she was a hero -- that the outrage she had whipped up was the only thing that had shamed the Company into paying for a full evacuation of the colonists.
Oh, her former bosses, they hated her.
Captain Verli set his panel down on the table.
"Just wanted to make sure you came out of the bottle ok," he said. "You never know. The Company has eyes everywhere."
He stood up and walked around the table. A prickle went down her spine. She rose to face him, and was struck by a bizarre urge to drop to her knees.
What was wrong with her?
"Take off your shirt," he said.
This was
not
what pro bono work meant. She wanted to run. Instead, for some reason she couldn't understand, she found herself pulling the gray tank top over her head. In the rush to get out of the locker room, she hadn't bothered to put on a bra. He regarded her bare breasts thoughtfully for a moment, then nodded, lips curling.
"Lovely," he said, taking her nipple between his fingers, giving it a gentle squeeze. Sparks flew behind her eyes.
She still wanted to run, somewhere in the back of her mind, but she wasn't sure why. She felt suddenly safe here. Safer than she had felt in a long time.
Something was very wrong. The tube. Had she been subjected to some sort of mental conditioning during coldsleep? She should feel horrified, but somehow it just didn't seem to matter.
"Turn around," he said. "Bend over and show me your cunt."
Huela didn't know why it felt so right and natural to slide her trousers down her hips and present her ass to him.
The door was right there. Out. Get out!
But that didn't make sense. Why would she leave, when this man was about to fuck her? The sense of disappointment, need, desire, that she had felt since waking up from a month-long wet dream was excruciating now.
His fingertips touched between her legs, teasing her, brushing lightly against her clit, and she was already so wet, and she wanted him with a fire that she hadn't felt in a long time.
He walked back around the table and sat down in his big padded captain's chair.
"Wait!" Huela said. She was still bent over, ass up. He hadn't told her to move.
"Yes?" he said, picking up his panel.
"Don't you want to fuck me?"
She sounded whiny in her own ears. Too desperate. She could feel a blush creeping across her face.
He was looking at his panel again.
"I have work to do, sweetheart, but I won't stop you if you want to suck my cock."
Relief flooded through her. She dropped to her hands and knees and crawled under the conference room table, reaching for the tent in his trousers. She pressed her cheek against his hardness through the soft fabric, breathing in, and satisfaction bloomed in her belly.
Huela freed his cock and wrapepd her lips around it. As began to work her mouth up and down, drinking him in, he set the pad aside again and looked at her.
"Can't you go any deeper than that?"
Huela was already taking him as far as she ever had with any of her lovers, making obscene noises that rang hot and bright in her ears, letting slobber drip down her chin. But now she felt ashamed of herself for holding back when there was more she could have been doing to please him.
She went further, painfully far, pressing him down into her throat, past her defenses. Struggling, coughing, fighting to take him all the way. Every millimeter deeper filled her with pride, and sent shots of sweet arousal sizzling through her.
"I watched that viral whistleblower video you did," he said, leaning back and smiling down at her. "You looked very pretty with that self-righteous indignation in your eyes. You're even prettier gagging on my cock."
With a brush of his thumb, he wiped a tear from her cheek. Somewhere, deep down, she felt a spark of rage, but she couldn't remember exactlyswhat she had to be angry about.
