Rose! Rose, oh my god, can you hear me?!

Rose was startled awake, jolting against the harness and struggling until she regained full consciousness. She was in the pod, looking out at an opaque fluid that surrounded her.

Sara?

Holy shit, Rose!

The pod was lively, the monitors registering a stable environment, awaiting her input. She groaned as the ache in her body tried to drown out all other concerns.

I fell asleep?

Rose, I don’t know where you are!

Sara was frantic and her thoughts began to reach the forefront of Rose’s mind. It cut through the thick fog of confusion that lay heavy over Rose’s consciousness.

I’m in the pod.

Rose, I know that. Where is the pod?

Rose repeated the question. It struck her as such an odd question. Sara was her guardian. She always knew where the pod was.

I don’t know. I can’t see beyond this fluid.

Are you still inside me?

Inside you?

A flurry of images played in her head, recollections of the events that led to her current state. She had done a procedure on James. He had then forced himself on Sara while Rose was still inside him. He had ejaculated her into Sara. Rose reeled as the memories spiraled and she felt dizzy, her head lolling back against the chair.

You need to focus!

There was an incessant beeping that nagged at her. She looked to the status monitor and saw her oxygen levels were dangerously low.

Am I going to die?

Fucking hell, Rose! Not if you help me find you!

Rose shook her head, trying to clear the fog that stubbornly clung to her.

My head is so heavy…

I know! But I can’t remotely access the pod—not to pilot, not to see the cams, nothing. We don’t have the authorization codes set up, so the pod is only accepting your input.

Rose blinked. That was a clear oversight when doing things off the books, but also a problem for another time. Summoning all the energy she had and collecting her wits, she had a brief moment of clarity in which to re-examined her surroundings.

There is light filtering through the semen.

Rose felt Sara’s nausea bleed through the static of her mind.

You could have used any other word...

Who’s wasting time now?

There was a sense of relief at the comment, the humor a sign of better health, but Rose couldn’t sink into that relief. Couldn’t be distracted.

I’m not inside you... Check the table.

Outside the fluid barrier, a large shadow shifted and then covered her.

That’s you!

Is there anything you can do to help?

Rose still felt the tug of sleep, luring her back to its grasp. With a fumbling hand, she flipped the switch that manually forced the outer lights to shine.

Not quite what I meant, but thank you.

Rose hardly heard Sara. She couldn’t follow the events that passed as she was drifting, but then a tug jolted her upward and vertigo set in and her stomach heaved amidst her delirium. Nothing surfaced and she continued to retch. She knew she would be grateful later for the absence of a coating of vomit, but at that moment she only wanted to sleep.

A cold silver casing surrounded her and returned the light inward at her, forcing her to squeeze her eyes tight. She couldn’t process the way she moved, but when the metal moved and the fluid cleared away, and the pod’s filtration system kicked in, pumping oxygen into her chamber. Relief washed over her and in the absence of immediate danger, she succumbed to sleep.

When again Rose woke, a hand was patting her cheek.

“Rose, come on.” Her ears picked up Sara’s voice. Sara was the first thing she had heard after only being able to really hear her own heartbeat and sobs.

Rose forced her eyes open, her light sensitivity making her head throb. Sara’s edges were frayed, the light eating away at the lines of her frame. She gagged, but despite being unable to produce anything, she still heaved.

“You look like shit,” Sara said as she wiped sweat from Rose’s brow.

“Feel like it, too,” Rose choked out.

Sara put a hand to Rose’s chest and pushed her back in the seat. Rose didn’t resist as Sara yanked at the fastenings that held her. Rose hissed as the pressure on the straps was lifted and blood finally reached deprived skin. As soon as the hand moved, Rose fell forward, unable to support herself. Sara caught her and hoisted her up, only for them to both sink to the floor.

“We need to get you home,” Sara grunted as she propped Rose up. “I can’t treat you here.”

Rose watched through drooping eyes as Sara looked her over. She just kept replaying the morning, and her entire relationship with James, questioning how she could have let any of it slip through her net. How had she been so wrong?

And while she bore the marks of what transpired, Sara was a victim of greater crimes, and Rose could not help but feel like she had contributed to it happening.

“You don’t need to worry about me,” Rose murmured. “You need to take care of yourself.”

Sara ceased her fussing and silence fell heavy on the room. “It’s better if I focus on you,” Sara admitted, and Rose felt the underlying cold terror in the words. The chill clawed its way under her skin and sent ice through her veins.

“Of course,” she relented. She could let Sara tend to her, if it helped. Sara deserved anything she could offer, even if it was just a distraction.

Rose let herself be lifted and led to the chair. “I’ll write a report about the pod needing better override features, after we thought to test prolonged submersion.” Rose nodded, but knew Sara was talking to herself. Rose was a good pilot and doctor, but the technical aspects were Sara’s forte.

“They’re gonna think we were excessive,” Rose mumbled as Sara tugged her suit jacket open.

“Let them,” Sara dismissed the worry. The tank top Rose wore beneath the jacket did nothing to keep the bite of the cool air from reaching the raw friction burns that carved into her shoulders and chest. “Shit, this needs attention. I have a stock of ointments at home. Can you travel?”

Rose shrugged and immediately regretted the action as she agitated her burns. “We can go to my place. I have a sleeper.” Rose might have been amused by Sara’s stunned sputtering any other day, but she couldn’t spare the energy.

“Before you got assigned as my guardian, and before they updated all the tech, I’d consistently go home banged up. The hospital provided one for me, so I never had to be off work for more than a day, but when it became unnecessary, they never reclaimed it. Costs a fortune to move and it’s not the latest model at this point.” Rose was struggling for breath by the time she finished explaining.

“Well shit, we’re definitely going to your place.”

Rose’s memory of the journey was littered with holes, as she went in and out of consciousness. She could hardly force her body to listen. Every attempt to determine which parts of her were still trustworthy for basic functions resulted in heightened discomfort. It seemed to her that she was entirely out of commission. And as adrenaline and shock wore off, pain took its place.

In her home, as they tried to accelerate the process of Rose’s recovery, the attacks on her nerves seized nearly all of her focus. She relied entirely on Sara’s assistance. Every movement sent flares through her whole body, while every effort Rose made to keep still only made her more tense, and the resulting tremors in her muscles exacerbated the pain.

She was so single minded, trapped in her own cycle of discomfort, unable to care that Sara’s face was flushed as her clothes were stripped away. It didn’t occur to her that she leaned too heavily on Sara, who was already struggling as she tried painstakingly to respect Rose’s privacy.

The sleeper was a chamber that would encase her prone form and submerge her in a fluid concoction rich in nutrients and hormones and a number of compounds that were together designed to accelerate her body’s healing process. Rose disliked sleepers. While it induced a hibernation state for her body, she was resistant to the sedative, and so her mind remained mostly functional. Waking dreams always plagued her, shaped by thoughts she tried to avoid, but were no longer locked in her subconscious.

Sara helped Rose into the bed of the sleeper, where she lay waiting for the initialization. Being free of the debilitating pain did seem worth any lucid dreams. After she gave her ready, Sara started the sleeper up and the chamber filled. As the fluid sank into her skin and pulled her under, the cool relief gave way to the realization of what was simmering just below the surface of her mind.

Rose wanted to tell Sara to abort. She could take a few days and let her body do its natural work, but the fluid was quick to work into her system, her throat locking up as the weight pressed down from above.

Images were blurry at first, disjointed and incoherent, but as the fragments pulled together, she recognized the scenario she was going to live out.

James was before her. And beside her. His meaty, muscled thighs were great walls of flesh and hair on either side of her, towering at about three times her height, converging on his familiar but rather overlarge package. Rose turned away, following the line of his thigh to his knee, which bent over the distant edge of the chair he sat in. She knew the one—the computer chair he had at his desk, with its smooth black leather cover and tall back.

Rose did the quick math as she shuffled toward the front of the chair to look down to the floor below. What wasn’t even half a meter tall to James, was easily a terrifying ten meter drop for Rose. Other than down, all other directions led to James, and she was giving the fall some serious thought.

“Rose.”

The vocalization thundered through the room, deep and loud and seeming to come from everywhere. She couldn’t tell if he was addressing her or just saying her name, and she was not enthusiastic about either option. She hadn’t looked up at him before that moment—she hadn’t needed to see his face to know it was him. But as she craned her neck and her gaze lifted higher and higher, it was deeply unsettling to meet his eye.

“Do y’like the view, sweetheart?” She knew the tone—he had used it with her before—but she’d only heard it clearly when filtered through Sara’s mind.

James was smug. His size empowered him—made him entitled to her obedience. He was completely in control, and wholly comfortable with the idea. He felt natural above her, with his entire being casting a shadow over her. And while their sizes made the imbalance more exaggerated, more distinct, it had always been there. It had always been present in their dynamic, masked by her willful ignorance.

Rose had wanted him to be everything she imagined, had willed his perfection into the reality in her mind, and had excused the signs that suggested otherwise. She accepted his nature, turned a blind eye to the insidious underpinnings, and now she was faced with it in the grandest fashion.

James’s hand rested atop his thigh, well above her head, his fingers shifting unconsciously, making her fidgety. They were larger than her, massive by comparison, each minor movement a feat she could never achieve at her stature. She was set on edge, but was unwilling to directly watch the fingers, instead allowing them to remain in her periphery. She stared James in the eye and squared her shoulders as she stepped away from the edge.

“It’s nothing special,” she squeaked, her voice high pitched even to her ears.

James laughed, a deep rumble that shook through her and threatened her balance. She adjusted her footing and steeled her jaw, but she didn’t feel sturdy. Despite her best effort, even knowing what would come, she was still startled when James’s hand slid up his leg, creeping closer to his center. He covered the distance in a matter of seconds, and Rose could not help but be awed by the magnitude of the act.

Rose knew where it led and when James wrapped his fingers around the meat of his cock and lifted it in display, she closed her eyes tight. She could not be made to watch his show of egotism.

There was a sudden mighty gust she barely registered before an impact split the air before her, and then a tremor shook the ground she stood on, jerking up through her legs and toppling her over. She was in a heap on the seat of the chair, clutching at her ears as they rang. She opened her eyes to find James’s finger and thumb on either side of her, close enough to touch. They were like bodies all their own, warmth radiating off the rough flesh that covered them. Rose gulped air, her heart starting to pound in her chest.

“This is just a dream,” she declared weakly as she stood once more, entirely aware that the knowledge would not save her.

“I’ll make this a nightmare if you don’t pay attention,” James warned, his voice laced with a sadistic mirth. Rose didn’t doubt him, but as if to prove the point, she watched him grow and felt the material of the chair stretch beneath her, until his fingers were each as thick as she was tall.

The hand that had surrounded Rose pulled away, and in its absence, her focus returned to the hand that jacked James’s cock, coaxing it awake. Each upward tug came with the sound of his balls peeling off the leather and each downward stroke slapped those balls back into place. The movement was inconsequential to James, but to Rose it was grotesque and all consuming.

“You’re well acquainted with my sack,” James reminded. She couldn’t really see his face anymore, but she could hear the twisted grin he wore. “You’ve swam with my sperm, but not without your little vehicle to shelter you.” Rose’s stomach turned at what he hinted at. Every instinct told her to run, but she knew there was no escape.

Defeat ate away at the strength in her legs and she wobbled. She was prepared to collapse and give in to her fate when the surface she stood on changed in a blink. Her feet were planted on either side of the slit of James’s urethra, as she stood atop the spongy, red head of his penis. She smelt the heat that wafted off of him, almost as much as she could feel it. Her balance wavered as she tried to process the change, but then she felt her stance widen forcefully as the opening became larger.

Rose knew she was shrinking as she teetered, trying to keep from slipping into the gaping hole that threatened to swallow her. But even as she attempted to leap to one side, she knew the dream would never allow her to evade the climax of what had burrowed into her mind. She diminished to almost nothing and began to fall into the long well of James’s shaft.

Time warped and she experienced the fall as if she were normal sized and James’s cock was a monolith of the Gods’ making. She never touched the fleshy walls, but she felt the heat bleed into her very being. As she free fell into the depths of James, she could only really hope the inevitable impact killed her.

Rose knew the point being made, how she had fixated on the feeling of insignificance and especially with James. He was the perfect twisted counterpart to her position, the natural personification of self-absorption. He was the one who got off on her being the size of his sperm and the one who made her tininess a part of his pleasure. He gave her insignificance purpose. And his gratification was everything.

And she hated that she was fascinated by the whole of it. She was sucked into dwelling on the feeling of being essential to his power fantasy. She got a thrill out of being the one who was diminished and the one who no longer had autonomy. There was something about that long careen down into his cock that shredded her self image and tickled some perverse part of her mind. She couldn’t let go of it. And she hated every second of the fall into the dark of his cock and the even darker part of her own mind.

She begged her mind to grant her mercy and to accept any other object of focus. Maybe something cute, like puppies! Or stressful, like explaining to her parents that she wasn’t going to marry James. Or something surprising, like… Sara dreaming about her.

The sudden light blinded her and the fact that she was no longer falling out her off balance. She blinked and let her vision adjust to her surroundings. She was once again between a pair of legs, but they were smoother and lifted. The knees were bent well above her head, feet planted somewhere behind her. And the crotch that she faced was familiar only in that she knew the general shape from her exploration of her own body.

Rose stared at a pair of fingers delicately spreading the labia to reveal the puffy, excited vulva. Arousal coated the fingers and trailed down tight asscheeks, spilling liberally from the gaping cunt that squeezed happily at the attention.

Somewhere in the distance, beyond the hungry pussy and towering legs, a long breathy moan rang out, sending a shiver through Rose. Fingertips played with the drooling hole that kissed back playfully. Another moan accompanied the massive ass lifting momentarily off the bed as the body delightedly tensed—thoroughly and deliciously teased by those attentive fingers.

And then came the plunge—a wet slip and an easy fit, the fingers buried themselves deep. The voice cried out, strangled and gasping, but completely pleased. The voice was musical and scene epic, and Rose was a reverent witness. She felt no pull to interject herself, content to watch the efforts of desire.

“Yes,” the voice cried, as the ass crashed down to the bed and the back arched up, body squirming and tight around frantic fingers. “Rose, that’s it, right there!”

Rose had known the words would come, had known what had pulled her away from the gravity of James’s cock, but it was something else to hear it. It was something else to feel wanted and to know she brought someone pleasure merely because it was her. And it wasn’t because she was small and gave Sara a power trip. Sara just wanted her and plowed herself silly thinking of Rose.

Rose watched, rapt, unable to take her eyes off the powerful display of raw lust—the rapid clench around suddenly stilled fingers and the twitch of thigh muscles that held taut, and eventually the collapse of a body spent. She had been the catalyst to it all.

Rose then moved, drawn toward the epicenter of Sara’s pleasure. The fingers pulled free of the vice of Sara’s cunt and a tremor ran through the whole of her body. Her hole fluttered before Rose, inviting her closer. Rose eagerly accepted, curiosity getting the better of her. She imagined the feel of Sara’s slickness, the heady smell that was thick in her lungs. She wanted to know the feel of Sara’s pulse beneath soft skin and the squeeze of greedy muscle. She had to know.

Rose felt the sleeper disengage and sat up sharply, ripping the oxygen mask away from her face. She had fallen deeper into the sleeper’s hold than normal and she struggled to readjust to her surroundings.

Sara held a towel up for her, both as an offering and as a screen for her naked form. Her heart continued to race as she took the towel, unable to meet Sara’s eye. Even as the sleeper's fluid cleared away, she could tell she was very wet between her legs, and an ache had settled deep within her. “Fuck,” she breathed.