Growing up, Dithy had never gotten used to being thirsty. Which was why her parched throat truly unnerved her. Her stomach growled from all the soup she had been forced to ingest only hours earlier, and her skin felt clammy. She needed a shower; more than that, she needed a drink. 

      Dithy Perra had stumbled into her private sanctuary. She rarely used her own quarters, instead valuing the hidden space tucked away underneath the engineering level. It used to be a storage space, likely during the ships initial construction. Since its many retrofits, it was unsafe to store vast amounts of material underneath the newly installed engine mechanisms, and fueling coils. Thus, the storage space was abandoned, and then quickly forgotten. 

      Dithy found the empty space when she was working routine maintenance. She was surprised at first, and then comforted with the knowledge that there was a small piece of the ship that only she knew about. It was exclusively hers, she hadn’t even told Rise about it. It wasn’t large enough to keep all her belongings, but she did manage to sneak a mattress, along with a spare rucksack of supplies, when nobody was looking.

      She also brought with her several containers of contraband, some of her own home brew liquor among them. The clear liquids smelled of strong alcohol, and cleared her nostrils upon each sip. She filtered each batch through a portable water filtration unit, until it was safe enough to drink. Dithy only wished she had other ingredients to enhance the flavor, or something other than processed grain to ferment. 

      Her newest batch was stored in a small container next to the mattress, and she quickly poured herself a drink. It washed down her throat like fire, eroding the latent tastes of semen as it went. She quickly chased it with another, and could already feel her cheeks growing numb.

      Thick coolant pipes fed the engine overhead, ensuring the temperature was always cool. Even the air quality was fresh, as steam cycled through the cracks in the walls. The hissing created an almost soothing backdrop as well.

      Even after three hours, Dithy couldn’t squeeze out all the semen from her loins. Her sore folds were throbbing with pain, and she left behind a trail of sticky fluids all the way from C-deck to the engineering section. She felt sorry for the janitorial staff that would have to clean that up.

      Thinking back, It happened so fast. One minute she was marching into Journey’s room, expecting to capture the look of surprise on her gorgeous face, and the next she was bound and stripped of her clothes. Time faded as she lost count of the number of orgasms she suffered through. Dithy didn’t understand why the comfort liaison had such a rampant appetite. She could’ve sworn she had the hibernation pod’s mental reprogramming set to train her on how to be submissive. 

      Dithy could still remember how it felt to have Journey’s erection slam all the way to the base of her womb. It filled her completely, and squirmed against her grasping walls. She had never felt something so rigorous between her legs, Journey’s erection pulverized her with such fearsome potency, Dithy doubted she would walk straight for days. 

      Even now, her slit was gaping and quivering, as if reshaped by Journey’s girth. Dithy bit her lip as she could still feel Journey’s little soldiers dripping down her legs, painting her inner thighs while dripping onto the floor. 

      Now that she had fled to the safety of her private room, Dithy basked in the after glow of sexual ravishment. She couldn’t believe the comfort liaison was so brutal, it was like she had been possessed! She quickly took another shot, which helped to dull the pain.

      Sitting alone, with the comfort of the engine mechanisms pulsing overhead, Dithy questioned her decision to manipulate the comfort liaisons hibernation chamber. By performing all the ‘special procedures’ available, she had created a monster. A tantalizingly gorgeous, high arousing, one at that! She could still smell Journey’s scent on her skin, likely coated with enrichment pheromones. 

      Dithy sighed, and muttered a quiet curse to herself. She always struggled with making the right decisions. It seemed like every time she tried something ambitious, it backfired. It was always the same, even since she was a girl in the orphanage. 

      When she wanted to make friends, she made enemies. When she strove to entertain romances, they only grew into disappointing failures. At the age of eighteen standard, Dithy tried to apply for the school of medicine, only to have her savings stolen. One thing led to another before she finally managed to land a decent job, and even that came with conditions.  She grew to hate mechanical work, but anything was better than being a comfort liaison. Dithy knew that for a fact. 

      Her home world of Nu Xiu was an ocean world deep within freehold space. It was known for its bountless beauty, and endless supply of water. What it was less known for, or what was genuinely ignored, were its overpacked orphanages. Nearly two thirds of its populace had been drafted into the Great War, leaving the rest to maintain order. Once the war ended, few returned. Leaving behind a mountain of families, the people who stayed behind weren’t enough to keep normal supply chains flowing, or take care of all the children left behind. 

      Dithy fought to make a future for herself, and once she had left the world of Nu Xiu, she hadn’t set foot on another planet again. Real gravity brought back unsettling memories, ones she cared not to entertain. As she sat drinking by herself, she was happy that her throat was no longer parched. She poured another drink into her tiny tin shot glass, and wolfed it down without batting an eye. 

      An hour passed, and Dithy was seven shots into her newest batch. The air suddenly felt warmer as the steam created a thick mist in the air. Beads of sweat strolled down her cleavage, and in between her shoulder blades. 

      Hot and disoriented, Dithy disrobed out of her disgusting jump suit, and laid onto the mattress with her limbs spread wide. Her breasts heaved into the air, causing moisture from the steam to roll down her sides. As she slowly drifted to sleep, Dithy’s intoxicated mind could still make out the smell of Journey’s sweat, and the taste of her spit in the back of her throat. 

      Her snoring competed with the thrum of the engines, and despite the alcohol, Dithy didn’t sleep well that night. Her dreams were alive with disturbing flashes, many of which included her with a frightfully swollen stomach.