Beauty and the Blob (/tg/, Phoebe, Blob, Guro?)

In a cluttered, ramshackled room, a muffled alarm was going off.  While its beeping alone would not have raised a stir out of the room's sole occupant, the vibration synchronized with its synthesized chorus snapped her straight back into consciousness. Phoebe Prevatt had crashed in one of her private patient rooms in the medbay she preceded over.  Thankfully, the firehaired nurse remembered to close the privacy shutters, as the only article of clothing that still clung to her form was a stained, sticky labcoat.

Still sprawled out on a bed damp with sweat and other secretions, Phoebe lazily traced her hand down her body to find the source of the incessant annoyance.  A corner of her PDA was lodged in her crotch, its buzzing arousing faint reminders of a rough night and a thoroughly-inflamed labia.  With a slight tug, she pulled her PDA free and checked the time. 12 o'clock.  She should have already started her shift.  The AI sent out its daily greeting and her headset next to the bed was already starting to cackle with the crew's usual chatter.

Phoebe wracked her brain to try to recall what happened in the previous night.  In addition to her usual routine of self-medication, she could have sworn there was another person in the room before she drifted off.  The evidence of the man's presence still clung to the air, the sheets, and all over the pale girl's dainty body.  He was patient of hers.  A very recent addition to the crew, he arrived on Space Station 13 looking rather green, and coated in a constant cold sweat.  He had asked Phoebe if there was anything she could do to calm his nerves, the poor soul not having a single clue as to what kind of trouble he was getting himself into.  She loved patients like this.  A couple of pills later and the man was putty in her hands.  Despite taking several enhancers, his endurance was weak, and her medHUD detected some trace oddities in his biology.  In her drugged state, she had paid no heed to them that night.  She figured he must still be in the medbay somewhere, however.

She finally managed to plant her bare feet onto the cold metal floor.  She was an utter mess, but the crew was rather used to seeing her like that at the start of the day.  Phoebe straightened up her lab coat, fiddling with what few buttons remained to give herself a slight bit of modesty.  Where the rest of her clothing went was still a mystery.  She reached into her pockets, and was glad to find she still had an unused syringe of her own special concoction jingling amidst an assortment of penlights and pills.  She quickly pressed the needle into her bare thigh.  There was enough chemicals in it to down a space bear, but for her it was just a mild dose to get her started in the day.

She raised the privacy shutters and peered out into the hallway.  No one was moving around in her department yet, thankfully.  She wanted to make a quick dash to the storage room to get a new work uniform, but she couldn't help but worry more about the status of the sickly patient she was taking care of.  She couldn't recall if anyone was using the neighboring patient room, but it couldn't hurt to peek inside to see if he was there.  She tiptoed out of her room and knocked on the nearby door.  The shutters weren't down, but for some reason she couldn't good a clear look into the room.  Patient rooms were typically sound-proof, but despite that she could definitely hear something faint through the window.  It was a writhing, gurgling noise completely alien to her, but she barely paid it any heed.  In her drugged courage, Phoebe braced herself and popped the door open.

What awaited the nurse was inexplicable.  Immediately, something surged out of the metal portal.  As if opening a bloated, rotten food tin, a vast wave of sludge slammed Phoebe into the CMO's office windows.  With her drugs numbing her body, she quickly stood herself back up, only to see that whatever spilled out into the hallway wasted no time in expanding itself across, and eventually through, every metal tile in sight.  Some of the goop clung to Phoebe's body, and she noticed her muscles relaxing.  Her stimulants started to clash with the toxins invading her body.  It was a very familiar feeling, however.  Was the eldritch creature synthesizing morphine somehow?  She tried to look for a way to flee from the green monstrosity, but every exit was quickly blocked by its rapidly-growing form.

Another touch from the blob, and the red-headed nurse found her legs giving out.  She saw the blob absorbing all the inorganic materials it came across, terrifying her with thoughts of what it was going to do to her.  Yet, its toxins quickly dulled her mind, almost feeling at ease with her impending doom.  She tried to drag herself away to the only bare corner left in the area, but had no chance to outpace the blob's grasp.  Coming in contact with the thing again caused Phoebe's body to completely relax upon the floor.  Her lungs felt heavy.  Her racing pulse steadily slowed down to a tepid gait.  Urine dribbled down her lithe legs, staining her filthy lab coat even further.  Utterly hapless, she could only blankly stare at the formless monster as it slowly encompassed her body.

Whether the process the blob was performing on her flesh was painful or not was completely lost on Phoebe's mind.  The amount of painkillers surging through every pore of her albacore skin would have easily killed anyone else, but to Phoebe it only made her mildly catatonic.  Every muscle in her body was pressed and squeezed under the pressure of the blob's form.  Her flat chest was roughly kneaded.  Suction was applied all around her neck as it was propped above the matter, as if she was purposely allowed to continue breathing.  Did it want to keep her alive?  In the corner of her eye, she finally spotted another person.  Her radio was squelching a cacophony of shouts about the blob.  This first combatant that Phoebe spotted lasted only for an instant against the monstrosity, as its toxic touch dropped them like a sack of bricks.  It then proceeded to lurch up in  a solid mound to swing globs of its girth into the prone form.  Phoebe could hear the distinct cracking of bones as the blob splattered its assailant into a fine paste upon the floor.

More people started to arrive, but Phoebe's attention soon went back to herself.  Adept at multitasking, the blob continued exploring her body.  She couldn't make out much past her neck in the slime, but she felt her legs being spread apart in the mass.  The blob nudged against her sex, suddenly easing its groping across the rest of its victim's body.  Pressure clamped down upon her limp frame, her breathing becoming even weaker as the slime solidified around her torso.  From the depths of room the thing had burst from, something concealed in a squelching wave of slime began to creep towards Phoebe.  As if preparing for its arrival, the blob began to expand into her crotch.  Phoebe was used to large insertions, but the ooze forced her already-impressive capacity towards horizons she ever imagined possible.  With the constant seeping of painkillers into every inch of her body, the blob easily stretched her pussy until it gaped obscenely beneath its green opaque mass.  Deep within her, Phoebe felt her cervix give way and dilate against the intruder's slithering reach.
The wave finally reached its goal.  Phoebe strained to see what it contained, only getting a feel as to what it was at it impacted against her thighs.  As if the blob parted for the wave's delivery, she  was spread open towards her absolute limit.  Something round nudged itself towards her readied entrance.  As if giving birth in reverse, the orb wriggled itself deep inside her body.  It smashed through her strained cervix, finally nestling itself within her womb.  She could never imagine the pain that would be wracking her very soul if not for the fact that she was adrift in a literal sea of opiates.

Her tolerance to the drugs, however finally gave way.  As her body utterly failed to accept the node pulsating within herself, her heart seized up from fatigue and the excessive drugging she had received.  Her eyes glazed over, hoping that the nightmare was finally over.  In her dimming gaze, she saw ports rise up in the green sea that coated the halls that she once called home.  Unearthly pods rose out of these openings, most of them hurrying towards the source of combat that lied out of sight beyond a corner.  One, however, lazily floated over to Phoebe, and latched its tendrils tightly over her head.

---

The fight against the blob did not last long on the station.  The Science department grinded out the best laser-based weaponry they could design, eager to finally put their research to the test.  Now armed to the teeth, the crew easily burned through swaths of the blob without fear of its intoxicating touch.  Its previous victims rose up once again as pods reanimated whatever corpses they could find.  One such zombie sighted was a bruised and battered young woman covered in the tatters of a lab coat.  With the rest of the undead, she was cut down in the medbay lobby under a hail of gunfire.  To prevent further pod possessions, the corpses were quickly stuffed into the untainted morgue, awaiting for the nearby cloner to be fixed after the blob was subdued.  None of the crew, however, noticed the throbbing bulge in her stomach.

The green blob was taken down quickly once its core was discovered in the remains of the patient recuperation wing.  The remaining doctors tended to the wounded, and the sole remaining geneticist was eager to get back to his job.  He walked up to the entrance of the morgue, opening it without a second thought.  What awaited him, however, was a sea of liquid flame.  Before his eyes boiled away from a wave of extreme heat, he saw a ruptured container bleeding red, raging ooze from the broken remains of Phoebe Prevatt.