Take the First Chance You Get to Escape

With **** but to follow, you walk closely behind Tracie, or rather, Mistress zh'Thracia. She has her head tilted to the side slightly and her antenna angled toward you to keep you in her peripheral vision. Even in this absurd reality, you can't help but appreciate how well her uniform compliments her skin tone now that there's far less red to cover up the blue. The slender but well-defined contours of her bare arms serve to remind you of how strong she is. Your eyes trail down the exposed muscles of her lower back to the scarlet miniskirt as it swishes back and forth with the sway of her hips. She certainly doesn't walk like your Tracie does, though part of that is probably the leather boots that now come up over her knees and down to a sharp spike at the heel.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot an open maintenance hatch. This is your chance to make a run for it! You could probably make it through the hatch and halfway up the Jeffries tube before she would be able to react, but then what? You'll just have to figure it out from here. It's risky, but you may not get a better opportunity later. Quickly before you can change your mind, you bolt for the hatch.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going, Doe?" zh'Thracia yells after you furiously.

"Away from you, Psycho-Bitch!" you answer without slowing down. Your hands and feet scramble up the ladder in the tube, but she's hot on your heels. She grabs onto your leg as soon as you reach the crawlspace at the top of the ladder and tries to pull you back down. Reaching up, your hands grasp an overhead conduit so you can pull yourself up while you kick with your free leg. The toe of your boot connects with her jaw. A thin stream of blue blood trickles from her mouth as she looks up at you with **** in her eyes. Your hands slip, and you fall flat on your back in the crawlspace while she pulls herself on top of you with her dagger drawn. Fumbling with your own dagger, you manage to draw it with a broad swipe in her direction. The blade slashes the fabric of her uniform top, causing it to fall open and her breasts to spill free. Even when facing ****, your eyes are still drawn to her perfect ice-blue tits.

"Alright, John, if that's how you want to die, then so be it!" she says with a crazed grin. She throws her dagger at your hand, knocking your dagger out of your grasp and pinning it to the floor. Her muscular arms hold you down as she moves her legs up to straddle your waist. She leans forward, filling your field of vision with her bare breasts until they press against your face. Your nostrils fill with the scent of Andorian sweat before being pressed shut, buried in her cleavage. Her hand grabs the back of your head and pulls you tightly against her flesh. You've had dreams about Tracie smothering you between her tits, but this is a nighmare! Panicked, your arms flail wildly. Your lungs start to burn as they beg for oxygen. You struggle with all your might, but she only pulls you in tighter. Your strength fades, and so do your efforts to resist the call of endless sleep.