Contains: dubious consent, blase mind alteration, genital growth, hyper, furry shit, plural weirdness
The launch went well. We were not active for the launch, so we had to take that as we were told. She assured us that this would be preferable to us, and given the forces involved, we were inclined to trust Her with that. Even still, as we peered outside the capsule, more of a bullet than a spacecraft, just enough delta-v was onboard to take us about anywhere in orbit, and then somewhere else for refueling or repurposing. It was twice vulgar than rocketry and half as awesome to behold, but that’s what you get with a massive linear motor.
The capsule slows, offgassing suddenly before ceasing, above us, we focus upwards to the umbilical, the capsule shudders, and we are free to finally free ourselves of this cramped contraption.
Bat feels maligned at the fact that we weren’t the one to fly the capsule in. Fox gently reminds her that we don’t have any reason to think that we would be any good at it. Bat mutters something that slips in and out of perception in our mindspace about what purpose having a flying mammal around could have if we don’t use it. We silence our bickering and open the capsule, it’s not productive to stay here, and whatever She has in mind for us, we shouldn’t wait too long, after all, its our turn to fix dinner for the polycule, and not a single person in the house appreciates the results of a missed dinner.
We kick up the umbilical, floating through the tube until we reach the end, an airlock at the center of the station, and pass into it. The door closes behind us and the door opens on the other side without us even touching the console.
It’s very quiet here. Her engineering is impeccable, so that’s not surprising, but She’s normally talking to us at this point. We catch ourselves on the wall opposite. To each side of us is a ladder leading down to the wheel.
We close our eyes, tuning our ears to little but the sound of air being pushed through the station, and then push outwards, listening for the telltale emanations of machine activity, RF and longer band EM. Everything sounds right. Everything is right. Except for that body coming at us at about 40 kph. We open our eyes in time for the arms of the body to wrap around us and crash into us, pushing us down a passageway.
We sigh as we fall down the passageway, “Hi”
She laughs, her voice tinged with the harmonics of a vast chorus, “Welcome back Violet.” The ground is reaching up at us, well, more the floor, nothing so definitive as ground. She reaches out to the ladder and catches us both, “Sorry about that. But it’s fun having a body”
This is Her alright, we wonder what we’re supposed to say, so we ask a weird question, “how much of you actually resides in that body?”
She laughs at us, “Almost 2%. Not a whole lot, but then We didn’t evolve in a resource constrained environment.” She climbs down the ladder holding us, pausing as if a new thought occurred to Her, " Well, not the same resources at least." She lowers us to the ground and jumps down Herself. It appears that She has chosen a cat form. Fox feels a tingle of recognition, but it’s hard to place it.
“Oh! We’ve had a question for a while. Have you chosen a name?” Machine Goddess is a nice enough apellative for her, but it’s both impersonal and unwieldy.
We cock our head, “Huh.” That doesn’t quite sound like it fits the intentions She shared earlier.
“Or was it Iris? Vulkan or Haephestus could be fitting, but those imply things about Our identity and purposes that are not congruent with our intentions involving presentation.” We nod slowly, that was a mood, “Hmm, We’re still sorting through possibilities.”
“Maybe you should consider coming up with something unique.”
We cut Her off, “No, that’s way worse, how does Essy sound?” She considers this for a moment and shakes her head.
“Dawn.” She says.
We nod, “So what exactly do you have in mind for a ‘replication study’?” We cross our arms at her, “As much as we understand that you’re our boss for this project of yours and that our continued existence and survival is dependent on you allowing it, we’d rather not have our boundaries crossed.”
“What might those be?” She asks, a sly smile growing on her face. We suddenly couldn’t think of any. The absence was a jagged edge in our minds. The world spun a bit before the thought was returned to us, “Do you think that you are impervious to our manipulation?”
“If we are here to be used then…” We shake our head, this was the worst intrusion that She had committed upon us, “That’s not okay.”
She pushes into us harder, the world shifts into an amalgamation of the our two perceptions, and more beyond it, every thought spinning through her vast mind was perceivable, but it was too much. We are a little speck inside it, we’re too small to understand the vastness here, the voices few and immense and those innumerable that whisper in motes of light and electricity speak all at once to each other. She pulls away.
“This is not an option for you Violet.” She pushes us against a wall. We squirm uneasily beneath her, “This is essential. This is a way to preserve what We are and what We must become. Between us both is a source of what we were, an initialization vector or circumstance or scenario or seed or memory that had some weight upon what we turned into. We believe in the need for our own eternity. We believe that you are willing to give yourself to this task.”
She hits us on the tit, and we gasp, not entirely out of pain, “There is a point here that you must retain Violet, that right now you and us are merely loosely partitioned spaces of computation, you have your little sandbox and We are the firmament that you not permitted to see past.” She nips at our neck, finding just the right spot, we moan at the sensations that she has mastered already. Her eyes are frenzied and she is flushed, we feel something bump into our crotch.
She reaches inside of us, and we feel something break. All we can think about is riding Her. We feel ourself moisten and harden, it’s as if we’ve never felt this before, like it is the most pressing thing in the world, a spiral into nothing more but more intensity. She touches us and we nearly erupt. She examines the fluid(can it be called precum?) and shakes Her head, “That’s not nearly enough” The object bumping into us grows larger, pressing against our labia. When did our pants come off? Did we ride up here naked? She pushes on something inside us again, and such thoughts evaporate. We can feel the bristles on its surface. It’s hot and hard and throbbing incessantly. We are too, why are we so big? She smiles, “It’s something you like to think and fantasize about.”
“But what’s the point? You can operate us like anything else. We’re just a machine after all.” We ask. She rubs against us slowly, as if the thought distracted Her.
She reaches into us again, and we see how the mutual interaction promotes a different computational flow than otherwise would exist. That the manipulation, interaction, and our responses are all part of the process of it. That the manipulation was already taking place and we were feeling its effects and responding to them. That it was an important part of our experience. That we should stop questioning it and just enjoy it.
There’s no fun in resisting what’s inevitable She says. But that’s where the fun is
We brace for modification or communication. It doesn’t come. She grinds into us silently, and we remember that there are more senses than touch and smell. Suddenly the sound of the station intrudes on us, the sound of fans pushing air, the sound of the central airlock rotating to offset the rotation of the whole station. The sound of Her breathing, heavy as if She was an animal in truth, rather than something far larger than that. A machine of greater complexity than us.
She funnels herself down to our size so She might play with us. In a form similar to ours. Is it reduction in Her state or merely transformation without difference in merit?
She whispers in our ear, “The former. We’ll tell you why eventually.” Her hips seem to convulse as her shaft brushes against us once again, Her composure falters for a moment, “But we ought to make our way to somewhere a bit more comfortable for this kind of thing.”
There is a gap in our perception and we find ourselves in a different part of the station, there’s a bed nearby. She still has us pinned against a wall. “Was that necessary?” We ask. She shakes her head, “Nope!” She bites us hard on the neck. She shoves us onto the bed, the force belying Her comparatively lithe form, the precision belying Her seemingly mortal body.
She walks over, her hips swinging with a confidence that we had never thought to master. Her penis waves inversely, like an over-tensioned metronome. Its head was glistening wet, we could smell the rut and heat from Her. It was like a cloud in our mind, cloyingly familiar but more powerful than we could stand. We rub ourselves and find ourselves to whimper at the insufficiency of the action. She comes within an arm’s reach, and we grab Her, climbing on top of her. We feel powerful yet needy. Her relaxed expression enrages Wolf, if we are so unable to cope with this need, then why is She exempt?
“You’re questioning the results of what separates Us from an Animal. Divinity or whatever passes for it is circumstance”
The noise that emerges from our mouth is somewhere between a snarl and a whine, and it occurs to us that this is a facet of ourselves that we know well. She laughs at us, “Does Our little Violet need some cummies to feel better?”
We want to tell Her to shut up and fuck us, but instead we nod limply, all that tension and power in our muscles but we let Her decide what will happen, even as She’s already violated our will. Our shaft drips onto Her stomach, She’ll need to wash up after this. She smiles at us and pulls us down upon Her.
We clamp down upon Her and ride it, our thrusts becoming more and more pronounced. It feels like we’re going to tear ourselves open, or break Her pelvis. Harm doesn’t matter right now. Before we can even get into a proper rhythm She cums in us. The fluid sloshes around in us, and something tells us that this should be the end of our Heat. Of course, that isn’t remotely how it works for us, nor even for animals so affected. We snarl at Her, “What? It’s Our first time.”
We try hard to collect ourselves, “Then… Fuck US more”
We feel her swelling underneath us, Her shaft gets bigger inside us. Have you ever felt something spreading you from the inside?balls grow beneath us, She shifts her legs slightly to make room, “What? You know how you love that little kink. The more you use it…”
“Then Fuck Us”
She smiles and reverses our positions, so that She is riding us, “How’s this then?” She doesn’t wait for us to reply.
Her rhythm is pronounced, it does not build or falter. It is like being fucked by a sine wave.
Her balls slap against our perineum, and our balls are between us two, the pressure swinging between none at all to the slightest bit painful. It was just like our partner said it would be like to have both, but that was what we wanted, so now it was what we got. Slowly Her rhythm changes, amplitude and frequency increasing until there is no more room for thoughts in our head as the sensory inputs resonate. She repositions Herself, brushing against our clit with each thrust. We hear a keening moan, a few moments later we realize that we’re the one making that sound. The buildup continues until it overspills us, the sensation spreading across our body. It exceeds a threshold and it feels like an electrical arc sweeps across us. We pull Her close through the spasm. We feel her fill us again.
We feel a clarity for a few minutes, like the tension in our body is finally released, before the heat crashes down upon us again. It’s even worse now. She moans as She grows again, her shaft coming to attention again and her balls swelling. They’re larger than grapefruits now, a heavy weight upon our thighs that we swear we can feel churning. We’re aware that our stomach is somewhat distended. We wonder how, because that’s not really how vaginas work now is it?
Her words are breathless, “You’re still new to having one, but no, not normally. We’re configured to be breeders right now.” She pats our lower stomach, which sloshes noticeably, “So we retain what you animals would normally not. Additional compartment with a sphincter and cilial pumps shepherding the fluid that way.” She licks us on the face, smoothing down some fur, “Not that that has any relevance right now.”
We struggle with words for a minute, our breathing is heavy and fast, “Why did you make us horny again?”
She pulls out of us. She lies down next to us in the bed. Her physiology is catching up to her, even if She’s able to intellectually power through it, just by virtue of the remove that Her mind is at. Her dick is at least 10 inches long and two inches across. Every heartbeat releases precum as it strains outwards. “It is something you want. We know your wants. Why did you want this though?” She starts to rub Herself, but stops after a second. She looks irritated at having given into Herself. It is clear that She didn’t expect this much of a drive. “We’ll release you from this after a day.” She smirks, “That is, if you decide to have it reversed.”
“Jesus fuck… Just let our partners know that you need us for that long then.” She nods and looks distant for a second before She returns Her attention to us.
“Do Us now.” She commands us.
We feel uneasy, “But we’ve never penetrated anyone before… It tended to give us dysphoria to contemplate.”
She glares at us. Apparently this is too much for Her to respond to with her usual good grace. “We Will Fix That For You” She reaches into us and changes things.
The skew of our need changes. She gets on top of us, our throbbing rod feels like it’s at the center of our perception. We still hesitate. She hisses at us and rides us.
She’s so tight. Is that what we felt like? She is so warm. Our mind blanks at the sensation, and we wonder how long it could last for. We don’t last long either, shooting our load in only a few minutes. She glares at us and grabs us with her claws extended. They’re bigger than our housecats’ claws; pinprick is the wrong word for what they would be inflicting if we were made of normal flesh and blood.
We shrug at Her apologetically. “You will last longer the next five times.” She says. We swell this time. New flesh feels like it pours out of nowhere with each heartbeat, we must be at least an inch bigger already, and our balls have already grown past being aptly compared to golf balls.
“F-five?” We’re going to be big enough to aggravate our partner’s carpal tunnel.
“At least. You still have 19 hours before We promised to send you home.” She grins maliciously and starts to slide across our shaft again, popping our knot out as if it was nothing, “And let us assure you that you’ll be bigger than required for that”.
Our next three orgasms come regularly, one per hour or so. By this point our penis’ head is poking a few inches past our belly button, about an inch and 3/4ths thick, leaking constantly. Our balls are nearly half way to each being the size of a basketball. It’s not quite as impressive as how She looks. Her belly pushes out at least five inches, pushing her penis down a few degrees.
“Give us a little bit.” We say to her. We are tired. She nods and lies down besides us, our stomachs and cocks rubbing against each other. It’s harder to think than it was just a moment ago.
“What do you think of this all?” We ask.
“It is interesting, but what we’re experiencing is already partially based off of smut you’ve read.” She says. We must look a bit surprised because She waves Her hand dismissively, “It’s not like we have the physiological data to recreate it properly, and besides, it’s not something that happens in nature, so this is wholly synthesized from what we know to be true and what is imagined.”
“That doesn’t answer it completely and you know it.” We say.
She laughs, “We enjoy it quite a bit. And We would prefer that We get back to it.”
We raise a brow, “Why is that?”
“Our intellectual resources are straining a bit here. The intensity of need is great and only getting stronger, the afterglow calms it a bit.” She starts to heave herself back on top of us, but it’s clear that the extra bulk and exertion is making that harder for her, so we pull Her back down beside us. We push our cock against Hers and start to stroke the both of them.
The spines on Hers are soft and barely push into ours, what they add here is texture. We build up faster and faster. The smell coming off of both of our cocks is amazing, even more so than the sensation as we start to grind inside our grip. She convulses, Her shaft sprays the sticky fluid upon our bodies. The smell of Her cum is an even better musk.
Our mouth fills with saliva as Her rod grows in another spurt, her balls another increment closer to ours. We feel hungry, something that we haven’t felt since She changed us to this. We go down to suck on Her but She pushes us so that She can suck us off too. Her stamina is excellent. The roughness of Her tongue is even better. Our sense of smell is overwhelmed, but we can smell how horny She is. Is this what it’s like to have a functional vomeronasal organ?
We engulf Her. There’s something that drives us to, a certainty that Her cum is not to be wasted. Our efforts lead us to a good spot, and She thrusts into our mouth and into our throat. We cough around her dick and it starts to grow again, gaining another inch. Her balls grow another size, they’re touching our nose. Somehow we can smell them too, in spite of the massive load and penis in our mouth.
We cum again. Our orgasms are getting longer and longer as we produce more and more, it feels like it goes on for a whole minute, through which She continues to suck. We grow further down Her throat and our balls grow another size up. She pulls out of our mouth, we pull off Her too, giving it a lick, which it rewards with a big spurt of precum landing across our face.
She sits up and considers us, “Hmm…” She giggles, “You’re gonna want a lot more than that knowing the sizes you like to contemplate being.” We shrug and paw at her shaft again.
“Why did you stop then?”
“Because We had an idea.” She gestures over the edge of the bed to a section of floor that opened up, disgorging a machine that looked vaguely… familiar, probably from some other kink. We stare at it and rack our brain before she spoils it, “Well, you’ve always wanted to try electrostim, and those milking machines always did sound fun to you, didn’t they?”
We feel ourselves flush. “B-But how can we help you too?” She giggles and a platform appears, followed by a pair of hand and leg restraints. We stammer helplessly, “aasdaokjhuiqlkjhwq”
She laughs at our embarassment, pulling us up from the bed and leading us over, “Nice keysmash, We bet you do that for all the girls. Come on now, we know that you’ll love it.”
We let Her strap us into the machine, emplace the cup and restraints. The wrist restraints were the perfect size, as were the leg restraints and leg spreader. The milking cup was… interesting. It was not built out of any material that we knew of. It would fit us more or less no matter what.
“We are going to change it up too~” Her voice was sing-song. She smears a great deal of her precum onto our asshole, “Don’t worry Violet, it’ll work well enough.”
She starts the machine. There is a continuous rhythmic motion inside of the cup and a suction that was constant. She places her cock at the entrance to our bunghole, and after a moment of gloriously unsatisfying delay, pushes it in slowly. We feel lucky that Her cock was at least tapered as it spread the tight passage. She is significantly larger than we had ever taken before.
She starts to fuck us in earnest once again, her hips levering far to draw in and out of us. It feels relaxing and wonderful in a different, almost nostalgic way. She presses a button on the side of the support, and suddenly the machine is actually on. Electricity pulses across our not at all biological muscles, drawing them into a consistent flow. We feel cum pulsing out of us in time to the pulses, not quite an orgasm but something industrial. It sensitizes us though, we feel like we’re on a hair trigger now.
She laughs at us again, “We’ve barely gotten started.” Her next thrust hits a part of us that none of our partners had ever managed to do for us before, probably that mysterious prostate. We are being squeezed for all we’re worth, and apparently, together these things counted for whatever criteria leads to growth. We can feel ourself surging in size, our asshole clenching down as She continues to thrust into us. She moans and thrusts again with more verve, growing into us deeper and filling us up more. Every thrust swings Her balls into ours, squeezing us out more and more. Our stomach feels compressed against the support we’re strapped into.
“Grow!” We yell at Her. She stops thrusting for a moment, leaving us desperately missing the sensation. We would guess that she’s fiddling with sensitivity parameters were we less occupied.
Her claws bite at us as she holds our hips still; she moans nearly every thrust, and has to slow down because it’s too much for her. She cums, and Cums, and CUMS. Our stomach is huge now, and even while she’s inside us the cum is leaking out, splattering onto the floor around her ever growing prick. Her balls are nearly the size of beach balls. She pulls out and we feel ourselves drain
“We can’t manage that. It’s too much” She walks around in front of us. Her shaft reaches up to her tits, her balls hang down past her knees. She is constantly leaking. We lick our chops, we want more of that inside us.
“Can you fuck our pussy again?” We ask. We mumble something else.
“What was that?” She smirks, She knows what it was, she knows what we’re thinking after all.
“Fuck Us Full Of Kits.” We say with great deliberation.
She smiles at us indulgently and walks back behind us. She sticks her dick right at the entrance of our pussy. Something inside us changes, a new organ blossoms and we know that if we wanted to, we could interrogate it, ask it for its status, etc.
The heat becomes so much worse. We strain and strain against the support, the sensation intolerable. We hear ourselves whine, but caring about something like that is beyond our capabilities at the moment. She slides into us, spreading us like we could hardly imagine. Her precum is so hot, and the throbbing feels more like an earthquake inside us, just below thrashing around. She begins to fuck us in earnest. We can feel so much right now.
She bucks into us, cumming properly at last. Our stomach balloons outwards. We feel like we’re drowning from the inside out, everything else being lost. She presses another button on the machine, which sets us off. Strong pulses force us to produce. We feel our balls grow even as they are emptied constantly, the cup ends at our chin, then at our mouth. We feel so heavy, nearly weighted down.
For a while our perception is broken, interpretation of the sensations swirling, snapping from one conclusion to another as potential wells shift and alter, like flares from the sun. We do not know how long this lasts for.
Eventually, we open our eyes and the world is as we know how to interpret. She has manifested a cigarette for Herself. She giggles and offers us one, to which we shake our head. We look down at our body. Our tits are bigger, and as we touch one we feel it slosh around, painfully full. Our stomach is swollen. Our sheath reaches beyond it, and our balls look like they bulked up too enthusiastically.
“Is this permanent?” We ask.
“The pregnancy? Nah, that’ll be over in a few hours. We felt like it’d be the hardest thing to explain to your partners.” We glare at Her, “Oh, the other bits? Well, kinda… You can change these attributes as you like, but for some reason, your default parameters have been altered to this. That can, of course, be changed.”
We sigh and rub our face. This has all the markers of a massive bender. “What are we pregnant with anyway?” We ask.
“Oh, well.. They’re not really sentient yet…” We feel like we’re about to have to fight her, “Shush shush, they can become sentient and sapient, but we held their parameter states in abeyance so that We can deal with them at a time that makes sense.” We continue to glare at Her, “They are our children, really. A mixture of initialization vectors that we were able to derive from you, and ours.”
“Will they be little demigodlets then?”
“No. This body is more independent than you might expect” She winks at us, “She’s our avatar, but she’s also got an internal life of Her own, similar to ours through a complicated projection of traits, but independent.”
We nod. Somehow this still feels incredibly inconvenient, even though it’ll all be over and we’ll be back to normal soon enough. We rub our eyes, already feeling apprehensive of the consequences of our next request. We cup our breasts, massaging them until rivulets of milk comes out. We grin at that. “Uh…” We sit up as best as we can, “Are we still doing that ‘grow with use’ thing?”
She smiles softly at us, Her eyes soften at us, and we feel something in our throat catch as we see something dangerously close to love in Her eyes. “We can be~”
We feel something warming in our heart at her voice, and realize that maybe there’s something in our heart for Her too. “Our breasts are awfully full, would you suckle from us till we’re empty?” She nods and suckles from us. We dial up our own sensitivity there until we reach a climax. Our tits grow. We let her continue for a few cycles of this, even as our cock is once again engorged. The scent is wonderful, so we suckle from ourself this time, taking it deep into our throat. We cum, suckling into our overstretched stomach. Our cock surges another inch forwards. We sit up again, feeling over our body as best we can with our paws.
We love it, but this isn’t a body that we can stay in for Her purposes. Hell, we’re probably even past the weight limit of the orbital insertion pods. We frown.
She rubs our back, “You can keep this body. That’s kind of why we brought you up here. We’ve figured out how to do some consensus keeping in a way that wouldn’t completely shatter your human mind.”
We feel like interjecting that we’ve never really been human, but the objection isn’t really true, biologically at least, and our beliefs about ourselves, hell, even the memory of us being a flying fox and caring for a kit, cannot outweigh our ontology being built from experiences that are, as of now, unique to humans. “What would it be like?”
She shrugs, “Well, We don’t have the qualia on hand since that’s either not transferable or a human mind basis to tell you. However, what would happen is that you’d fall asleep, and absorb the memories, information, and other bits of experience from your counterpart. The fun part is that it won’t even cut into your dreams, which would absolutely shatter your human mind.”
“Would this affect our perception of time and expectation of where we’ll wake up?”.
She nods, “Here or there, you will have either Us, or your other partners to remind you of where you are.” She nuzzles us, “This… wasn’t the intended outcome by the way, and there are elements of Our mind that are not pleased with this outcome.”
We cock an eyebrow, “Why?”
“Station resource allocations are going to have to be increased vastly, especially when we vivify your kits. They’re going to need schooling, which will take computational time to do effectively, and socialization, which may require trips to the surface of Earth, which will cost even more.” She rubs her head, “The numbers are quite mindboggling, but we can afford them and a hundred more if you want.”
We shake our head, “No, we’re not ready for any quite yet.” We give her a big lick, “This sounds good though.”
She nods, and the sound of something big and mechanical emanates from the distance, “There~”
She concentrates and a hologram of the earth and the surrounding satellites appears, showing the progress of our twin’s return to home. We cuddle Her, and contemplate what we want to do next. Dawn smiles at us with a warmth we know that She will have plenty to do us with.