Something else in the room.

The woman pushed herself shakily to her feet, wiping a trembling hand across her mouth. Her body still buzzed with adrenaline, but she **** herself to move, each step cautious and tentative.

The new compartment was eerily different from the cryobay and corridors—warmer, the air heavy and damp, carrying the faint, earthy aroma of moss and decay. The lighting was almost nonexistent, save for the faint bioluminescent glow that seeped from the far wall.

She squinted into the gloom—and froze.

The entire starboard bulkhead was alive. A pulsating mass of vine-like growths sprawled across the metal, slick and glistening, breathing slowly as if the ship itself had sprouted lungs. Tendrils, dark green and purple, coiled and shifted lazily, their surfaces dotted with trembling, viscous pods that glowed softly from within.

The sight was almost mesmerizing. She stepped closer, drawn by a strange, primal curiosity she couldn’t explain. The air smelled... sweet, almost inviting. Be careful, some rational corner of her mind whispered, but her fingers reached out anyway.

The instant her fingertips brushed the slick surface, the wall reacted.

Tendrils shot out like striking serpents, coiling around her wrists and ankles before she could even scream. She struggled, panic exploding in her chest, but the vines tightened ruthlessly, lifting her off her feet and slamming her onto the warm, living wall.

The surface beneath her undulated, throbbing with a heartbeat she could feel through her paper-thin gown.

"No—" she gasped, but the vines pressed around her throat, not **** her, but holding her still, forcing her body to arch against the undulating mass.

More tendrils slid over her thighs, prying them apart with effortless strength. The hem of her gown was shredded away like wet tissue, exposing her bare skin to the humid air.

Her body writhed uselessly, each **** jerk answered by a tightening of the bonds until she was splayed helplessly, utterly at the mercy of the alien organism.

A slick, thicker vine, crowned with a glistening, bulbous tip, slithered between her thighs, teasing against the sensitive seam of her body. Her mind screamed in horror, but a traitorous, instinctive shudder ran through her anyway, her skin hypersensitive from fear and lingering cryo-sleep.

The organism didn’t hesitate. It pushed forward, parting her trembling folds with an almost loving slowness before thrusting deep inside her.

She cried out—a broken, shocked sound that echoed uselessly off the bulkheads. The tendril was warm, pulsing rhythmically as it burrowed deeper, sending jolts of unwanted sensation through her trapped body. Another vine slid over her chest, coiling around her breasts, teasing and tugging at her nipples until they were stiff and aching.

Her mind was a whirlwind of terror, humiliation, and shameful, searing arousal she couldn’t suppress.

Why... why does it feel so—

Another tendril found her mouth, pressing against her lips insistently. She tried to turn her head, but the vines around her skull tightened, holding her steady as it slid past her parted lips, filling her mouth with its slick, salty weight.

She moaned around the intrusion, tears sliding from the corners of her eyes as the creature worked her body without mercy, without pause.

Pleasure, alien and intense, built inside her against her will, coiling in her belly like molten iron.

The organism seemed to know, adjusting its pace, its pressure, coaxing her higher and higher until her body betrayed her entirely.

The first orgasm ripped through her with brutal ****, her muscles clenching helplessly around the tendrils violating her.

And the creature didn’t stop.

It only tightened its grip and began again, hungrier now, as if feeding on her shame, her helpless surrender.