PVT Stewart Peter Bate was surprised and a little happy when he found the unconscious naked girl on a bed. He knew she was unconscious rather than sleeping because she hadn’t stirred when Bate had put a hand on one of her big boobs and given it an experimental squeeze.

Not fake, he noted approvingly.

He wondered what she--and the bed--were doing here.

As to where here was, well that a little ... complicated. It wasn’t Earth. Bate hadn’t traveled far in his life, but he didn’t think anywhere on Earth had a sky like this--all purple and red and bruised like a hooker’s face after she’d got uppity about payment. Didn’t feel right either. You could feel it in your piss.

Outer space? Bate hadn’t gone blasting into the sky on any rocket. It had just been a corridor. A corridor, a door, a faint far-off hum of machinery, and then here, wherever here was. The eggheads called it ‘H-space’. Said it was a different dimension.

The naked girl was a real sweetie. Blonde, big-titted, slim belly, nice long legs--just how Bate liked them.

Her being here was weird, but could be explained. She could be one of theirs--medic, auxiliary, scientist ... hell, they were even letting the weaker sex carry guns nowadays.

The bed ... now that was harder to explain. It was a big fancy bed. Big plush silk pillows, smooth silk sheets the color of rose petals, a mattress so deep and soft it looked like you could sink right into it. A real fancy bed. The kind you’d find in a millionaire’s crib. Or in the fancy apartment where he kept the mistress stashed away and hidden from wifey. Here, in a room that looked more like a storage room in a military bunker, it didn’t fit.

They--the explo squad Bate was part of--had found this complex in the sands about five klicks southwest of FOB Idaho. The structure looked like it might have been part of a military base at some point, or maybe part of some industrial plant. It was abandoned now, or so they’d thought. There was no indication as to who’d built and used it before leaving it behind. Aliens? Bate didn’t think so. There was nothing weird or alien about it. It looked like every military facility Bate had ever visited during his short and checkered career.

What it was doing out here, was the question ... for Dr. Bloch anyway. Bate was a grunt. He didn’t give a shit. He just went where he was told. Dr. Esmeralda Bloch was the egghead assigned to their squad. Bate didn’t like her. None of the men did. Uppity bitch. Ugly as well. Looked like someone had put a cheap wig on a pug, but with none of the cute. Bate reckoned the brass didn’t like Dr. Bloch none too much either. Because they’d given her Explo Squad Echo Whiskey Five.

Exploratory Squad Echo Whiskey Five was not exactly your cream of the crop. A whole raft of disciplinary problems there. Which kinda concerned Bate. Only reason you’d put a squad like this together was you had a suicide mission lined up and didn’t want to risk the proper soldiers.

Someone in the top brass must really not like Dr. Bloch.

As they’d investigated the sand-choked ruins, she’d started droning on about inter-dimensional splices. Bate had heard about that. Private Jimenez had told him a story about another explo squad coming across something similar. They’d found half a children’s playground--seesaw, swings, a plastic cartoon rocking horse on rusty springs--sitting in the lee of a boulder-strewn hill out in the middle of nowhere. No reason to be there at all.

“Eerie as hell,” the soldier describing it to Jimenez had said. Like someone had chopped it out of the ‘burbs and randomly sewn it into a stretch of desert like a patch.

This disused military bunker was the same. Chopped out of whatever godforsaken hole it had inhabited on Earth and left out here like a discarded child’s toy. Completely picked clean and empty, at least until Bate had found Sleeping Beauty in one of the back rooms.

She was totally out of it.

Was she one of theirs? He knew the eggheads were feeling the strain of not making sense of things out here. Had one of them gone off the reservation and engaged in some ethics-free experimentation? The girl was out of it so deep Bate reckoned she had to have been drugged.

Bate ran through some calculations in his head. Here he was, in an out-of-the-way room, with a bed, a hot naked chick on said bed, and her so deep under he doubted an IED going off in the next room would stir her.

Now this was what was commonly known as an opportunity.

Bate looked back out of the door and checked both ways along the corridor. Jimenez was probably still bumbling around in the next room, sifting through the junk in the hope of jacking something valuable. The others were elsewhere and not in any particular hurry. Quietly, Bate closed the door and wedged an old steel chair up against the handle.

Bate hadn’t had the easiest childhood. He’d grown up with nothing and still didn’t have much. He’d learned very early on that whenever God handed you an opportunity, you took it.

He didn’t think he had long. He didn’t need long. A quick in’n’out, bust out a nut--that’s all the long he needed.

She’d never know it happened. That made it a victimless crime as far as Bate was concerned. And if there was no victim, was it really a crime?

He put his gun and kit away to one side and got up on top of the bed. The mattress was a little soft, but that was fine. He looked at the girl sprawled out before him and could barely rein in his excitement. She looked so cute and unsullied--like a small-town cheerleader before the whole football team had gone through her.

Bate leaned over her and gave both her breasts a squeeze. These were some fine titties. He gave them a jiggle and plumped them together. Real fine titties.

Bate turned his attention to between her legs. Down there she was shaved and very neat and tidy. Just the way Bate liked ‘em. He lubed a finger up with some saliva and slid it up between her folds. Nice and tight. Bate liked ‘em that way too.

The girl didn’t stir. They must have shot her up with something real powerful.

Bate glanced back over his shoulder at the door. Best not hang around long, he thought.

He fished a condom out of one of his pockets and gave it a kiss. Bate always carried one around. You never knew when you were going to get lucky. And, right now, Bate was lucky. He dropped his pants and slid the rubber over his boner. Best to be safe when it came to strange pussy. You never knew where strange pussy had been and what it had allowed inside it. Better safe than STD.

He pushed her legs apart to grant better access to her pussy. He spat in his palm and rubbed the spit along his shaft. Get it all lubed up, he thought. Then, slide it in.

Bate did just that. The girl was tight, but also surprisingly wet.

“Someone’s been dreaming slutty dreams,” he chuckled.

He grabbed a generous handful of each tit and moved his hips up and down on top of her.

“Oh yeah, you have one tight cooze,” Bate said down to the unconscious girl.

Oh yes, this was good. Tight. Warm. It wouldn’t take him long. Yeah, slide it in deep, fire that nut off, then be gone. No one would ever know.