"Welcome to The Fringe!" chimed an excessively chirpy voice, artificially modulated to sound as pleasing as possible. It worked about as well as you might think. "The Fringe is the narrow band of worlds separating Union Space from the inhospitable stretch of stars known as The Scar! Long a haven of criminals, minimally-rated corporations, and remnants of the Argos Armada, it is highly recommended tha-!"

Your hand finally slaps out to silence the automated recording, a harsh gasp torn from your throat as the sharp gesture jostles the buzzing length lodged inside you. You almost cum again from that alone, your black-market nerve enhancers making every bit of their cost worth it as pure, molten pleasure fizzes up and down your spine. Sweaty, pale skin slips on the synth-leather of your pilot seat as your hips instinctively roll, the thick dildo that you'd spent the last hour with popping out of your abused quim with a loud slurp.

"F-fuuuuuck..."

That long familiar, mewling cry echoes through the cockpit of your AvversTech Solo-Exploration Corvette, dragging a tired grin to your lips as you finally focus on something other than your immediate pleasure. Your own reflection grins back down at you from the partially reflective viewscreen, a leggy, pale beauty with a frame better suited to be on the cover of a human porno magazine. Your pointed ears, half-hidden in your close-cut black hair, and your finely featured face served as almost the sole measure to prove you were as elven as your birth certificate stated you were.

Being about average height for a human meant you were almost half a meter shorter than your peers, a fact that only your heavy, impossibly perky chest and perfectly formed bubble butt rescued you from. In fact you'd hardly needed any genemods to improve on your natural looks, something which helped you save a significant amount of cash when you discovered your natural predilection towards promiscuity.

Of course, your introspective afterglow is ruined by the appearance of a glowing red eye on a segmented stalk, mechanical iris whirring as it focus on your features.

"We are approaching the final warp nexus, Owner Talyr'n," intoned your ship's Subcommand AI. "The Stargazer has received final approach timers from Nexus Control. Perhaps you should review the mission details at this time?"

"Suck void, Sai," you groan, bouncing your head off your seat in frustration, one hand idly palming a breast as you consider the validity of the AI's complaint. You really had been putting this off.