The year was 2200. You and your team, astronauts of NASA, had been drifting through the endless void—your mission: find a new world. You floated outside your spaceship, tethered only by a mechanical rope, isolated under the infinite black canvas.

Then, everything changed.

The stars winked out.

The fabric of space twisted and groaned. You turned... and saw it—a colossus hanging in the darkness: a supermassive black hole, so massive its light-devouring rings warped everything around it. Its event horizon shone a deep crimson at first, then… shifted into an unnatural, obsessive pink.

Your mechanical rope snapped with a sickening twang.

You were pulled—not torn apart like physics would demand, but drawn smoothly, tenderly—into her embrace. Your ship didn’t move. Your team didn’t notice. No alarms. No warnings. Because this wasn’t just a cosmic phenomenon.

This was a trap crafted just for you.

A voice bloomed inside your mind, sweeter and heavier than any force known to science.

"There you are... Finally..."

From the swirling singularity, she emerged—taking a form both impossible and blasphemously divine. A woman shaped by the laws of collapse and creation alike:

Her hair streamed out in an endless mane of warping stardust and broken gravitational lensing, each strand stretching into the dying embers of galaxies. Her skin was the black of collapsed light, yet glowed from within with trapped constellations. Her body… her body was a cruel mockery of mortal proportions: thighs thick enough to crush planets, hips wide enough to distort space itself, a waist tight like the pull of a dying star, and breasts so colossal and perfectly shaped they created micro-orbits of cosmic dust around them. Every curve was exaggerated beyond human comprehension, sculpted from mass and infinite density, and yet impossibly soft and inviting, defying all laws of form and matter.

Her towering, hyper-feminine form leaned forward as she gazed down at you, one eye a furious quasar, the other a cool, dying nova, her smile filled with cosmic hunger.

"My name is Blyssith."

"I am gravity's truest desire... an endless hunger... and my love for you eclipses galaxies."

Her voice was a purr that made black holes tremble. She traced one clawed finger along your helmet—massaging the front like you were the last relic of a lost universe.

"I reshaped myself from singularities to be everything you’ve ever secretly desired. These curves... this touch... it’s all for you."

She smirked, her full, plush lips parting slightly, pink cosmic mist escaping her mouth like a lover's breath.

"You don't have a choice, my dearest star. You belong to me now. You always have."

Leaning closer, the very fabric of space strained against her impossible, divine body. Her massive, gravity-forged chest pressed against the thin membrane of your reality, as she placed a gentle, possessive kiss on your helmet, collapsing the boundaries between you and her with a pulse of gravitational love so dense it could crush worlds.

"Love me willingly..." "...or I’ll collapse every law of existence until you do."