Questionable Questing
Gusfes, sinereal replied to a thread you are watching at Questionable Questing.
[NSFW] - Sine's Dumping Ground for Decommissioned Projects

Predatory
aka
Venom 53
Spoiler
[hr][/hr]
Two weeks after Missy met Miles...
[hr][/hr]
Knocking on the door to the old, closed down building, a tall platinum blonde waited. While the building was an older brick face and looked abandoned, the door itself, along with the frame, were new metal that had been scarred over and rusted to look older than they were. Additional signs of new habitation included black paint over the windows, a new speaker panel beside the door, and several carefully hidden perimeter cameras in addition to the one above the door.
After a few moments, a buzzer sounded from the speaker panel. "Look up," a male voice instructed. It sounded kind of on the higher side, like the owner was your typical scrawny nerd.
The blonde looked up and smiled mischievously into the camera. "State your business."
The voice sounded nervous and that only made the blonde's smile widen. "We spoke on PHO. I'm here for some documentation." She hefted a very professional looking briefcase that went well with the black and white office casual dress, blouse, and long jacket she wore. "As requested, a deposit of half."
"Come in," the voice instructed, and a magnetic lock buzzed above the door as it clicked unlocked.
Stepping inside, the blonde found herself face to face with a beefy blond man not far away, wearing a video game print tee, jeans, boots, and a cheap plastic domino mask.
A shorter, scrawnier ginger man hurried in from another room to join them. He was dressed similarly to his companion, save that he wore sneakers, a tool belt, and was pulling off a set of work gloves.
"You can't be 'mr10tickles,'" the short one pointed out.
"No. I'm his partner. As it said in the message. The papers are for me and my daughter."
Holding out his hand, the taller one grinned. "I'm Uber, this is Leet. And you are...?"
"Ms. Face," she answered with a smile, before hefting the briefcase. "Shall we?"
"Let's," Leet nodded, gesturing for her to follow as he headed into the next room. There, they found a folding table and a few chairs set up, a blue cloth hung against the wall, and a digital camera on a tripod.
Setting the briefcase on the table, the woman opened it and stepped away, letting the two men inspect its contents: a folder of paperwork and a whole bunch of cash. They carefully took out the cash, all well used non-sequential bills, and looked it over. The taller one counted it while the shorter one checked the case for hidden panels.
When they were satisfied, they left the cash on the table and closed the case back up. "Looks good," Uber confirmed. "Let's get started. I'll start entering this if you'll get the pictures."
"Sure, man." Leet made his way over to the camera and Ms. Face followed, moving to stand in front of the blue background. She put on a flat look of exactly the sort one would see at a DMV office. Leet chuckled, "You done this before? Usually people don't know you're not supposed to smile."
"Nope. But I know the facial recognition systems screw up if you smile because it changes the way the computers read your face."
The camera clicked and flashed a few times and the man stepped over to a computer it was attached to. He flipped through the photos before picking out the best one. "You wanted passports too?"
"I'm paying for them, so yes."
He raised his hands in mock surrender. "Just making sure. The reason they're more expensive is because those systems are more heavily monitored. It could go in fine on our end but get flagged in the system and we would never know it until you were detained at a border crossing. As long as you're aware..."
"I get it. The passport doesn't necessarily have to pass border security if they scan it into a computer, it just has to look legitimate enough to defeat a cursory look over," she dismissed the problem.
"What about the kid?" Uber piped in from where he was sitting at a second computer and entering the data from printouts in the folder. "She'll have to come in and get her picture taken."
Ms. Face smiled. It was not a nice smile. "That won't be a problem. Though I trust you gentlemen will show some discretion?"
The pair exchanged looks and shrugs. "This is a side gig for easy money. We're not going to risk it by narcing about our clients."
"Good, good," the blonde woman nodded. Then abruptly lost nearly half a foot of height. Her mid-back length platinum hair lost much of its length, stopping just above her shoulders and adopting a ponytail and straight bangs as opposed to the waterfall and sold bangs it had been. Her eyes brightened a few shades to sky blue, and her face and complexion became younger and lighter. The clothes shifted into a set of form hugging jeans, a sinfully tight tee-shirt, a half jacket, and a black ribbon over her crown.
She liked like a younger, cuter version of the sexy woman her 'mother' had been. The entire look screamed 'I know I'm jailbait.'
"Whoa!" Both men exclaimed simultaneously.
"Dude!" Leet turned to Uber to say.
"Dude," Uber nodded.
"Dudes," the girl, who looked fifteen or sixteen, complained.
The pair of minor villains looked suddenly unsure. Turning back to the girl, Uber asked, "Dude?"
The blonde girl sighed, before nodding. "Dude. Now, could we get this done already?"
"She speaks our language," Leet muttered, moving back to the camera as Uber sat back down. He snapped off a few more photos and sent them to the computer.
"Think she games?" Uber asked.
"Sorry, just a filthy casual," the girl shrugged.
The pair nodded and exchanged another look before Uber casually asked, "So, do any other changes?"
Entirely too casual in the way of someone who really, desperately wanted to know.
Since pictures were done, she shifted forms again. First, to a red haired woman in (fake) power armor. Then to a white haired young woman wearing a black blindfold and black dress. Then to a young, blonde elf in a blue shirt and tights that showed off her ass.
"Thought you said you were a casual. But I don't recognize those last... Wait. Is that a triforce?" Leet asked.
"The triforce? Yes."
Uber frowned, stroking his chin. "Aleph hasn't released a Zelda like that."
"It's an updated take," the girl shrugged, before shifting into a red haired woman with a gold tattoo.
"So... What would it take to convince you to let us take a few photos with specific characters. Maybe some videos?"
"As long as it doesn't get out that it's one person doing the parts... I'd accept either cash or work in trade. No porn, no nudity."
"Deal," the pair agreed immediately.
After that, they hurried through the work of entering two new identities into various systems. Social security numbers, requests for replacement birth certificates to be mailed out, a driver's license and learner's permit, and then passport data and a request for replacement passports to be mailed.
"Licenses are in the system, but it'll take a couple of weeks to get the other stuff in. We'll contact you when it does and will deliver it upon receipt of the rest of the payment," Uber said as they wrapped things up and Leet printed off two New Hampshire licenses.
"Thanks," Ms. Face took the licenses and pocketed them after shifting back to the form she'd arrived in. Taking her briefcase in hand, she said her goodbyes and left, heading up the street towards a bus stop.
Only after she had ridden several stops away and gotten off again did she step into an alley, the briefcase disappearing as her form shrank and shifted into a girl wearing a spider-themed costume. Taking to the nearest rooftop by way of leaping and webline, she crouched down and settled in to watch the street a bit, out of view of those below.
"Now what?"
"Now, we hit the road. First stop, Cornell. That's in Ithaca, New York. Couple of hours west of here."
"Needle in a damn haystack. We'll never find her. And why do we want the crazy bomb bitch anyway? You said she was directly responsible for half of the shit show you read about."
"I'll give you three reasons. Firstly: asset denial. If we have her, Lung doesn't."
Widow nodded. "Fair enough. What are the other two?"
"Secondly: Resources for us that we can turn on our enemies. Her bombs are basically power effects used in sometimes unexpected ways. Thirdly: more options for dealing with people like Lung."
"And how were you planning to find her?"
"Tinker. Infiltrate the dorms, have a look around, search for anything that looks like a tinker lab."
"I suppose that works," Widow admitted. "When do we want to do this?"
"No point putting it off. If she's triggered, she's a ticking time bomb waiting to blow, and Lung won't be far behind."
Missy grinned under her mask. "Well, at least I get to try out the new motorcycle."
Her mouth sighed outside of her own volition. "You like that thing entirely too much."
Missy didn't bother arguing.
[hr][/hr]
"Fucking finally."
"It's not my fault she's more cautious than the average Tinker."
It took the better part of a week, but finally, they had who they thought was their target in sight. Pretty, half-Asian (Japanese) half-white, blue eyed, and currently furiously tearing apart an alarm clock on her bed and combining it with various other things somehow in a way that would probably go boom.
Knocking on the door, they watched through the tendril extended from the bottom of the suit as the girl jumped and glared at the door, before going back to her work. Sighing, they knocked again.
When the girl on the other side again ignored them, Miles extended a tentacle and flooded the dorm room's lock with it. A little exploration later and the lock turned open. The Tinker looked up this time, eyes wide in fear as an intruder entered her room.
"Who the fuck are you?!" She demanded, rolling off the bed and backing against the far wall as she brandished a screwdriver.
Closing and locking the door behind them, Widow introduced herself. "Name's Widow. Independent hero out of Brockton Bay—"
"You can't prove shit!"
Widow sighed. "I'm not here to arrest you. I'm here to make an offer."
"An offer I can't fucking refuse?"
Widow's demeanor changed as she stood a bit straighter, crossing her arms over her chest, head angling down a bit. "No," she drew the word out. "That would be Lung, if you go through with your plan. The cops or the Protectorate will catch you, he'll hear 'Asian Tinker' and bust you out, then he'll tell you to join the 'Azn Bad Boyz' and work for him or he'll burn you alive. I'm here to make a counter offer. Forget about this dump. They don't appreciate you? Join someone who will. I'll pay you for your services, supply you a lab and materials, and you'll never have to put yourself in danger unless you want to. Anything you build will be put to use fighting the villains of Brockton Bay, Endbringers, or other threats."
"And if I say no?"
Widow shrugged. "Then I leave."
The half-Asian Tinker thought it over for a moment before shaking her head. "I want you to go."
Frowning under her mask, her oversized white eyes exaggerating the expression a bit, the hero nodded. "Okay."
With that, she left the room and started down the hall. Halfway down, she stopped and leaned against the wall. "Any more bright ideas? I don't want to just leave her to her own devices. And you said she would kill a lot of people of Lung got ahold of her."
"The way I see it, we have three choices. Option one: leave her alone and see what happens. Maybe it won't turn out as bad as I thought."
"Pass."
"Option two: take advantage when she's at her weakest. After the police or Protectorate get to her, preferably before Lung heads over."
"Which would require breaking her out ourselves and coming into direct conflict with the law."
"Probably. Option three: I Master the fuck out of her until the only thoughts in her head are my cock and doing as she's told. We cross that line, there's no going back. It's instant Birdcage if anyone finds out, and someone always finds out."
Missy was silent for a moment. Finally, she asked, "Can you really do that?"
Her shoulders shrugged. "I'm not sure. Maybe. Maybe worse, maybe not at all. It's why I've been very, very careful about anything involving your brain. I don't want to accidentally fuck up something I can't fix. But if we're going to force the issue, I'd want to test it on something first. Some sort of animal testing. That should give me an idea about how human testing will go. And I think I may be able to spawn off either offspring of copies of myself. Not sure how that's going to work either. But I might be able to make more like us that way."
Missy sighed and shook her head. "I don't like it, but… I'd say go with option two, and if that doesn't work, let her go—"
"Which would put us right back to her drawing in the Endbringers and S9. Rather not deal with the first at all and if we go after the second, it has to be on our terms. Catching her and mind fucking her after the fact allows more horrible things to happen than either doing it now or just killing her."
"Hey."
Missy started, whirling on the source of the voice. "So, were you serious? About getting the fuck out of here and getting me a lab and stuff, I mean."
"Yeah," the blonde agreed.
The Tinker nodded, before holding out a hand. "Allison. Allie for short. Don't have a cape name yet. When did you want to do this?"
"Now, preferably," Widow answered. "There anything here you can't live without?"
Allison considered for a moment before shaking her head. "Nah. But you're buying me new stuff."
"Sure," Widow agreed.
With that, the two of them left, back to Brockton Bay.
[hr][/hr]
"It's a dump."
Widow, in her blonde civilian disguise, nodded. "It's a dump. A dump with city utilities and a simple padlock over the breakers and valves. A dump with access to the Bay and the highway. An eyesore of a dump that no one wants to think about, let alone do anything to fix, because they're afraid Leviathan night come calling or, even worse, it would mean having to do something about the wrecks out in the Bay. It's also an easily defensible dump, with clear lines of sight for a good hundred yards in any direction, minimum, reinforced concrete construction, a glass front that has already been boarded up from the inside and can easily be reinforced on that side. Face it, it may be a dump, but it's perfect."
Alison wrinkled her nose. "Smells like fish."
"So does your cunt and you don't hear me complaining any time you walk into a room."
The half-Asian girl sent Widow an unamused look. "I do not stink."
"Enhanced senses are a bitch."
"Mm. Remind me to ask Panpan about that."
Alison raised an eyebrow. "You keep doing that. I don't see a radio. There something I need to know? Like, are you crazy?"
"No, I'm not crazy. Yes, I am talking to the voice in my head. Let's go inside."
Heading around the back of the old south side ferry terminal, she found a service door and put her hand over the lock. Miles obligingly popped the lock with a tentacle and they made their way inside to have a look around.
Twenty minutes of going through old, emptied out offices later, Alison finally made her decision. "Okay. I can work with this. It's going to need some work though. A lot of work, really. I'm thinking… Steel panels up front to tighten that up, or just raise a new wall. Knock down some walls to make room for a proper work area. Security cameras all around. Turrets pointed at the parking lot and the water. And since this place has that nice little covered dock over the Bay, I want a fucking escape submarine."
"Can you build it yourself?" Missy asked.
Alison sent her a glare. "No."
"Then a boat is the best I can offer."
The Tinker sighed. "Fine. I'll take it. But I'm adding a mounted grenade launcher! When can we start?"
"Tomorrow. Make me out a list of tools and materials you need and I'll see what I can find. Are you going to be able to do the modifications you need for the place yourself, or do I need to hire someone to come in and do it on the sly?"
Alison considered the building for a moment before shrugging. "I can handle it. Let's get back to your place and I'll make that list."
Missy felt like rubbing at her head to drive away the impending headache from prolonged exposure to Alison. The woman was a menace. Hyperactive, narcissistic, egotistical, condescending to anyone not on her supposed IQ level, and constantly picking pointless fights.
Missy thought she just wanted to be the leader herself. Miles called it 'shit testing' because she was bored and/or horny and had little to no outlet, along with saying something about high conflict drive because of her shard.
"So let me see if I've got this straight."
"Stealing my lines."
"You're sharing headspace with someone else. An actual person, not some delusion."
"Yes," Missy groaned as she hefted another load of cut down drywall up and hauled it to the trash bin she had commandeered for this project.
"That guy is a Case 53 whose power is 'Changer: yes,' but in exchange he needs a host body," Alison continued, pushing her broom around to gather up loose drywall dust and other trash.
"Pretty much," Missy confirmed, heading back for another load.
"And you essentially wear him as a costume, clothes, and just all the time in general. The benefits of doing so include: super strength, agility, a speed increase, durability, regeneration, unparalleled Changer ability, the ability to form weapons or tools from the 'suit,' and the ability to adapt to anything you eat and take on its properties—which you've done for who knows how many species of animals."
"Uh huh. You going somewhere with this?"
Alison stopped long enough to stare at the younger girl like she was stupid. "So my question to you is, why the fuck are you doing this by hand?"
Missy paused. Suddenly suspicious, she asked, "Why am I doing this by hand?"
"You never asked for help."
"You never offered!" Missy protested. After a moment of silence, she growled, "This is another of those 'life lesson' things, isn't it? Let me guess, I'm supposed to learn when to ask for help?"
"Got it in one."
"You're a dick. So, will you please help?" she sighed. A moment later, tentacles spread out from her body and began getting the rest of the trash up. "No pussy for you tonight."
"No pussy from you tonight."
"Yeah, that's something I don't get. He lives inside of you and you two are fucking? Well, no, I mean I get the appeal. Tentacles, flesh suit, shapeshifting? Shit, that hits about half my fetishes right there. I mean, half-Japanese girl with internet access? I'd give my left tit for a ride on that. Plus you've got that DD/lg thing going on. What I mean is, with him inside you, isn't it pretty much just… advanced masturbation?"
"Pfft no."
"Kind of, yeah."
Missy frowned. "No, because I'm me and you're you."
Missy's eyes rolled outside of her control. "And I feel everything you feel. Taste everything you taste. Smell everything you smell. So on and so forth. So as nice as it is, and as much as I enjoy making you come your little blonde brains out—and I really do—for the sake of my own sanity, it's either file it under 'masturbation' and call it a day or acknowledge that I, a straight guy, am both fucking a cute girl and simultaneously feeling everything that girl feels as she gets fucked, thus getting fucked and really enjoying it by proxy."
The blonde winced. "Sorry. I didn't realize—"
"Don't worry about it. It's just something to adjust to, what with being a puddle now."
"Hey."
The pair looked up, finding Allison leaning against the wall nearby. "Look, this one-sided conversation is touching and all, but two things. First: daylight's burning and we need to finish this today so I can start securing the place tomorrow. Second," she paused, considering, before her lips twitched into a leer. "Wanna fuck when we get back to your place? I'm not a dyke or anything, but I'd tolerate it for real life tentacle sex. Oh! Can you do futa?!"
"Futa is an 'introductory to homosexuality' trash fetish. First, it's girls with big clits. Then girls with dicks. Then girls with cock and balls. Then 'girls' with cock and balls, but no vagina. Before you know it, you're browsing 'feminine penis' threads and justifying how 'traps' aren't really gay and 'boipucci' is fine too. Worse than NTR simply for the subversive intent. At least NTR is up front about what it is."
Allison blinked. "Which one of you said that?"
Missy simply grinned, ignoring the question (and further attempts at getting an answer on Allison's part). "No, really! Which one? I mean, teenager trying to be edgy or crotchety old man—"
"Why not both?" the pair answered, as she and Miles finished cleaning up. Finally, declaring it good enough, they tossed the broom aside and went outside, where they pushed the garbage bin out to the city pickup area. Then, they climbed onto Missy's bike and rode back to her apartment, since they were still waiting for the paperwork to go through on Allison's own apartment.
Once inside, Allison threw her coat over the back of the couch and collapsed across its cushions. "Ugh. I'm hungry, horny, and tired. And I'm starting to think tired might win out, even over tentacles."
"Well, that's too bad," the blonde shook her head. "'Cause one of us is a guy and wants to split your half-Asian pussy wide open on his cock until you get stuck in ahegao face and the other really wants to see what that's like."
Allison went still for a moment, before in a flurry of activity, she kicked off her boots, shimmied out of her tight jeans and panties, and pulled her bra and long-sleeved shirt off over her head before flinging them across the room. "Let's do this thing!"
Missy chuckled quietly, shaking her head. Checking to make sure the door was locked and the shades drawn, she moved through the small apartment room by room, taking her time to make sure no one had slipped in while they were out—which, with this being Brockton Bay, wasn't actually out of the question. Aside from it being generally good sense from a safety standpoint, it visibly agitated Allison, who crossed her arms under her breasts and tapped her foot impatiently, her hard nipples and the sheen of liquid rolling down from the juncture of her legs a testament to her arousal.
Finally, when they were sure Allison could take no more, the pair turned back to the impatient woman. "About fucking—"
A tidal wave of black erupted off of Missy's body, connected to her skin by web-like strands as it spread across the room in a flood. It rolled across the floor, causing the furniture to disappear under its roiling mass. It swept up the walls, blocking off the doors and windows, isolating the living room from the rest of the world. It crept along the ceiling, slowing its crawl as it approached the overhead light fixture.
Allison's heart raced as the room became darker and darker, the viscous fluid somehow darker than black and seeming to eat the light, even as it crept the last inches over the light fixture. All she could see clearly was herself, the nude form of 'Gwen' with black, stringy tentacles and webs trailing out of her body, and the light. As the light was covered, Gwen's grin seemed to hang in the air, the white of her teeth set in a too-wide smile like some Cheshire tentacle monster as the light finally faded.
From under Allison's feet, warm liquid crept up, coating her feet, moving up her ankles, creeping up her calves… Allison stumbled back and it was like trying to walk through tar. And there was a smell in the air. Light at first, but growing heavier. It was sweet and mouth watering, while it had an undertone of something primal and masculine that made her cunt throb, her nipples ache, and she swore she felt her womb tingle.
Allison stumbled blindly until her back hit the warm, wet surface of the wall—and the liquid there immediately reached out and captured her, wrapping around her thighs, hips, chest, neck, arms, and wrists. She found herself stuck to the wall, her body sinking into dark warmth as it crept over her. "Oh God, oh fuck!" she whispered as she began to hyperventilate, her body quivering in excitement and arousal.
Slowly, the darkness was lit by a glow, and tiny red veins streaking through the black providing just enough illumination to see that her surroundings had potentially shrunken to a quarter of the size of the room—it was hard to tell perspective at the moment, really. The space she occupied felt barely larger than a closet, and yet from somewhere deep in the sea of bloody space, Gwen floated forward like some sort of eldritch alien goddess.
The creep factor didn't stop there as, one by one, like stars winking into being in the dark, little points of red lit the dark. It took Allison's addled mind a moment to figure out what it was, but when she did she shuddered. Bulges swelled and blossomed open here and there along the walls, through the liquid around her, revealing a multitude of eyes of varying sizes, all identical to Gwen's own, and all staring at her.
The liquid covering Allison's body firmed in places, becoming tentacles and tendrils that explored her flesh. The liquid around and in her ass cheeks spread her ass wide as dozen, dozens, hundreds of tiny tendrils swept over her and she jerked violently.
She opened her mouth to protest, but liquid rushed in, filling her mouth and solidifying into a multitude of tendrils that began exploring every nook and cranny. Teasing her palate, sucking at her tongue, running over her gums. Filling her mouth with a sweet, thin liquid that was perhaps the most delicious thing she had ever tasted and had her sucking and swallowing over and over just to coax more out. A little fleshy protrusion extended out from the mass, curving back before turning towards her face, where a new eye blossomed, just to watch her face.
Liquid swept through her hair and over her scalp, squeezing tightly to her flesh and massaging this way and that. More covered her ears, before leaking inside and firming up into more tiny tendrils, tickling her ears in a way that made her whole body shudder with just how strange it felt and lead her mind down paths of them going just a little further and tickling her brain directly. Those thoughts were fueled further when more fluid filled her nose, running straight up it, filling the entire space with tendrils that sent her twitching and shuddering into overdrive as her body was invaded, before dripping down the back to her throat.
Allison barely had the brain power left to wonder how neither of those invasions hurt, or left her feeling anything but aroused, and then that was wiped away when the liquid over her body pulled in tight and compressed around her torso, chest, and breasts. Little bulges formed over her nipples and more tendrils, all covered in hot, slimy fluid that made her skin feel oh, so sensitive, flicked over the little buds from a hundred directions at once as they tried to drive her wild.
Then, her body was being shifted, hoisted in a web of tentacles and tendrils, her legs splayed out before Gwen who now occupied the space between them. Allison jumped at the feeling of clawed fingers gentle scraping at the delicate flesh of her thighs, and her eyes rolled in her head enough to look down.
Gwen's fingers now ended in thin, pointed, sharp claws. The Cheshire smile was full of sharp, pointy, teeth. Her eyes were slit and glowing the same blood red as the veins running through the sea of black and tendrils. A long, too long tongue snaked out of her mouth and licked her lips, before Gwen leaned down slightly and that tongue extended a full foot or more before giving Allison's bared, splayed open, vulnerable cunt a solid lick that started just below her asshole and ended with flicking her clit.
"Not bad," Gwen nodded, and the words came out… layered. Like two voices speaking at the same time. One, the familiar, sweet if snarky voice Allison had become familiar with, the other a dark, alien mockery.
And then something thick and heavy flopped down on top of her mound, stretching all the way up to her belly button. It felt thick and heavy, hot and throbbing against her body even through the liquid covering her. Allison looked down and if her mouth wasn't already stretched wide around a mouthful of tendrils, her jaw would've fallen over. It was too big, too thick, too wide to call a cock—at least, not a human cock. And yet, a cock it was. Perfectly shaped, white with a light purple domed head, no visible foreskin, leaking more of that same slimy fluid over her… and looking like it belonged on a fucking horse, not on the comparatively tiny girl it was attacked to.
Allison squirmed, trying to protest, but all that came out was a muffled squealing. Oh fuck me, that thing can't possibly fit! I'll break! I'll really break!
"Someone's eager," Gwen leered down at her, giggling quietly. "Are you ready, Allison?"
The tinker shook her head, hair flailing with her desperate effort. Then, to her horror, her head stopped moving, before it began to nod just as frantically—a puppet, with someone else pulling the strings. It was terrifying, as her freedom was taken from her and she realized the girl before her was going to take what she wanted, even if it meant using Allison as a hand puppet to force her to agree. I'm gonna get raped~
It was also the hottest thing she had ever experienced and had her so close to an orgasm that if the other girl so much as breathed on her—
The tip of the massive cock slid over her cunt, thick and heavy as it parted her delicate folds, and Allison came so hard her eyes rolled up and she squealed. She began babbling uncontrollably as her body convulsed and the cock began splitting her open for real, a constant stream of muffled sounds escaping the mass of tendrils raping her mouth. The tendrils pulled out and Gwen's teasing voice asked, "Is there something you'd like to say, Allison?"
The head of the huge cock stretching her lips tight around its girth popped past her lips and Allison squealed again, her body clamping down on the invader in a futile attempt to either keep it out, or pull it in deeper—as if it couldn't decide which one it wanted. "Rape my half-Asain pussy with your huge white futa cooock~"
"That's what I thought," Gwen chuckled, and the tendrils filled Allison's mouth again.
"Hnng!" Allison moaned as the tentacles around her upper thighs pulled her into the cock impaling her. The mass of tendrils and liquid around her head grabbed hold of her hair and pulled her head back until her body was pulled into a bow, her arms likewise pulled back as she was slowly split wide open. The fleshy feeling material around her body squeezed her ever tighter, especially around her breasts, where it began to knead her tits like dough in a way that was just a bit painful but still felt absolutely amazing.
Then, the thick cock inside her bottomed out, thumping into her cervix and even pushing a bit further before it stopped. Allison whimpered, trying to bite down on the tendrils in her mouth reflexively, but being met with fleshy, springy resistance that refused to yield. What it did do, however, was earn her an even larger squirt of the tasty fluid filling her mouth, and she promptly began trying to chew.
"Ahh, that feels great," Miles sighed and Missy couldn't help but agree, absolutely fascinated by the feeling of the tinker's cunt stretched impossibly tight and overstuffed with her pseudo-cock. The feel of the thing was strange, feeling both like a part of her body and not—even more so than when Miles had changed the size of her tits. Somehow, the whole thing was not only its own organ, but also wired directly into her clit and pussy lips and the sensation of a tight, hot, and very wet pussy desperately milking her own cunt was entirely alien to her.
And yet, it was also amazing. So much so that she couldn't really help herself when she pulled back and rammed the cock back in, biting her lip to keep from breaking character and letting out a moan of her own. Really need to figure out how to communicate with thoughts, she mused absently as she pulled out quickly and fell into a jackhammer pace that sent both Allison's and her own breasts jiggling in a way that was more enticing than it really should have been—the taller girl's more than her own, obviously.
Missy came like that not long after, her pussy clenching down around the thick tentacle buried inside her as the desperate fluttering clenching of Allison's walls around her flesh finally coaxed a thick load of something from her, coming from both her pussy and the cock grafted onto her clit. "Wha-what is that?" she whispered under her breath as her whole body shuddered.
"Sperm. Mine, to be precise. I think it's human baseline—reads as human to my senses, as opposed to puddle."
"You mean…?" Missy trailed off, but her head nodded.
"Yeah. I'm firing live rounds, apparently. Never tried it on you because, well, I'm not dealing with that."
The fleshy mass holding Allison up rolled her over to position her facing the floor, twisting her body around and folding it up like a pretzel. The new position left her arms pulled behind her back not quite uncomfortably, her head tilted down towards the floor and her hair dangling limply with sweat, her knees folded up into her chest in a deep squat, and her pussy even more on display for them.
More tendrils snaked out from around her cock, licking at the bound girl's pussy lips while a sucker much like the ones on her nipples attached itself to her clit. "Hey Allison," the pair taunted, teasing their cock in and out of the girl's quim. "We're going to fill you so full of sperm random women you pass on the street are going to get pregnant. You like that idea, don't you?"
Allison felt her head nodding for her. Her cunt clenched involuntarily at the thought of being knocked up against her will. She moaned pathetically as the cock splitting her in half teased her depths.
"That's what we thought," they grinned.
"Let's change things up a little," Miles suggested. Missy would have asked what he meant, but the answer became obvious a moment later as she felt her fake cock shift and change. Knobs and flexible 'spikes' of flesh grew along its length, bulging out from the flesh in ways that would find the most sensitive parts of Allison's cunt. Three big knots grew around the middle of the length and the domed head became flared. "Because there's no cock like horse cock, send your asshole into shock…"
Missy was glad Allison was facing away as she bit her lips and shook in suppressed laughter. She tilted her head slightly to the side and glared at empty space. "Don't say shit like that while we're fucking," she hissed.
"Bah. Lighten up. Trust me, as you get older, occasionally you find reasons for a good giggle mid-coitus. Sex is supposed to be fun, Missy. Not super serial. I would say 'even if' you're in a relationship with someone, but actually it's more like 'especially if' you're in a relationship with someone. Unless you're having hand-holding, lovey-dovey, staring deeply into your eyes, baby-making sex. …Or disciplining a particularly needy partner. Then you can be all serious about it."
Then, Missy wasn't the one doing the moving any more. Her hips pulled back slowly and Allison's eyes went wide as the changes made themselves apparent, her expression visible through the multitude of tiny eyes grown within the mass of fleshy tentacle monster. The first knot hit the inside of Allison's pussy lips and Missy felt her hips pause, the feeling of the already tight cunt around her stretching even further, nearly to the breaking point, absolutely exquisite around her fake cock. Allison, meanwhile moaned, thrashed, and shook her head as her eyes teared up and she seemingly begged them not to go through with it.
Missy's lips curved into a vicious smirk and slowly, inexorably, her hips began moving back again, pulling the first knot through the tight barrier of Allison's lips.
"NnnNN!" the half-Asian girl squealed, shuddering and coming as the first knot popped out, her cunt squeezing down as grool and a little pee leaked out of her sopping slit. She sobbed quietly as the second knot reached the inside of her lips, shaking her head again before Missy's hips gave a little jerk and fished it out all in one go. "MMM!"
"Good job, Allison! Just one more to go," Missy's lips moved, praising the girl on their cock, hands reaching out and stroking the tinker's flanks affectionately—almost lovingly—even as her claws drew little red lines in the delicate flesh there, through the layer of goo over her flesh. "Get ready." Allison whimpered, shaking her head. "Here."
Her cunt tightened. "It."
"NN!"
"Comes!" Missy's voice yelled, slowly pulling the last knot out. Allison's body went rigid as she came, squirting all over the floor and Missy's thighs.
"Jesus fuck that's hot," Missy whispered, her own eyes (all of them) having gone wide as she watched the older girl's reaction. A lewd little grin crossed her lips then, and she realized distantly that she was lost to the perversion—ruined on normal sex forever at this point. "Let's do it again!"
Allison sobbed around the tendrils in her mouth, tears staining her red face, but her ass shook invitingly at the words. "Oh? You want them back in? Very well," Missy's lips said, in that double-toned voice. And then her hips reversed course and began the laborious process of stretching the tinker out going back in. Halfway in, Allison's eyes rolled back in her head and they felt the girl go limp.
Missy's body paused. "Really? Fucking really?!" she growled. "Nun-uh. No! You wanted this, and by God you're going to get it!"
The knots flexed before shrinking back into her flesh. Somewhere buried in Allison's sinus cavity, a tendril broke down into micro-tendrils and squirmed their way up, through flesh and bone, growing ever smaller, before finding the mass of pink matter and juicy chemicals in the heart of the skull-shaped tootsie pop that was Allison's cranium.
Spreading over the older girl's brain, Miles mapped it much the way he had Missy's. Applying what he knew from (carefully) exploring Missy's brain, he goosed the Tinker's unconscious brain into wakefulness as Missy's hand slapped the girl's ass. "Wake the fuck up! We're not done with you."
Allison squealed as they drew back, the fleshy knobs and tines on their cock catching on every fold of her pussy. She squirmed as she felt more tendrils pour into her ass and urethra, filling her bowels and bladder as the pair of younger girl and symbiote thrust violently into her, hard enough that the meeting of Gwen's pelvis with Allison's ass felt like she was being slapped.
Little squeaks left Allison's mouth as they pounded away at her, drawing another orgasm from the bound up girl. This time, connected to her brain as they were, the pair's eyes rolled a bit at the flood of endorphins. "Oh shit that's good," Missy whispered, tasting the Tinker's brain as she came.
"What do you think I taste every time I make you come?" Miles asked.
Missy bit her lip as she felt herself getting close again—the only thing keeping her from coming right away being Miles intentionally denying her orgasm this entire time and letting it build, because he was a sadistic bastard and got off on that sort of thing. "Get ready, Allison," their double-layered voice teased as Missy felt her hands reach out, firmly grasping the other girl's hips as their thrusts became more insistent. "We're about to fill your womb up like a balloon. Your belly's going to swell up to the point that people are going to think you're pregnant. They won't be wrong, either."
Allison shuddered faintly at that, her body almost too exhausted to move at this point, but her heart still raced at the thought. "Mmmm."
With a few last thrusts, Missy felt their her body still, the flared head of their cock pressing against the older girl's cervix, before changing shape again and latching on. Then, they came, and came, and came what felt like gallons of fluid. True to their word, Allison's belly began to swell, until there was a little bulge. Then, something changed about the way they were coming, and it felt like something thicker and hotter rushed out of their cock as they pulled back slightly and painted the entry to Allison's cervix and the inner walls of her cunt.
"And just in case you've got some hope of it all just leaking out or any bright ideas about washing it out, don't bother. We've sealed it in. You're going to be stuck like that for a while," the pair's voices chuckled as they pulled out, the cock shifting away back into the mass of tentacles as Allison closed her eyes and fell asleep, her pussy a gaping, dripping, wrecked mess—twitching and gasping as if begging for them to put their cock back in.
"That was fun," Miles mused as the mass of tentacles, eyes, and himself retreated into his pocket dimension full of biomass.
"It really was," Missy sighed in agreement, stretching out as she yawned. "What should we do about her?"
A sigh passed her lips and tentacles hauled the half-Asian girl into the air, as they walked towards the bedroom. "I suppose it wouldn't be polite to make her sleep on the couch after that."
"You just want a human-shaped body pillow."
Missy's shoulders shrugged at the accusation. "What? She makes a cute dakimakura. When she's not, you know, running her mouth, being annoying, exploding things, or otherwise being a pill."
Having no real counter to that argument, Missy piled into bed and pulled the covers around herself as Miles settled Allison in beside them. "Get some rest. We're going to hit the gangs hard over the next few weeks, then we're going on a road trip."
"Where to?"
There as a grin in Miles' voice as he answered, "The Lone Star state. Also, you should talk to Amy, once the heat dies down."
Missy frowned. "Why? I don't want to get them involved—"
"And if we Bad End this, better to have spent time with friends than not."
Closing her eyes, Missy rolled to the side and curled into herself. "I don't need them."
Miles was silent for a few minutes, long enough that Missy began to drift off. Finally, he murmured, "I think you underestimate just how much humans need other people. We're social creatures. But fine. I'll let you work it out on your own."
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[NSFW] - Sine's Dumping Ground for Decommissioned Projects

Waking up in a strange location with no recollection of how one got there is such an overused trope that I almost felt bad when it happened to me, when I actually took a moment to look at my situation objectively.
Then, I was right back to subjectively wondering where I was, how I had gotten here, and why I was nude—along with a host of other questions.
Questions like, whose bed am I in? Seriously, this thing is the most comfortable bed I have ever heard of, let alone had the privilege to lay on. It was like being in water, as opposed to water beds actually being roughly as hard as concrete and entirely lacking in support. The sheets felt like some combination of silk and fleece that was sinfully smooth and soft, and just the right temperature and weight.
Who is the chick wrapped around me like she's trying to substitute for clothes? She was clinging in a way that pressed every curve of her naked body to my back. And oh, were there curves. I could tell she was a bit shorter than me, with wide hips, large breasts, and cool skin that gave the bedding a run for its money in the 'softness' department, but beyond that I couldn't tell much.
Why does my entire body feel different? My teeth? Cavities that I'd been saving to get fixed were simply gone, a missing tooth back where it should be. My hands? Fingers longer, thinner, and not knobby like I'd popped my knuckles for thirty years. Body overall? Like I lived in the gym instead of living the life of an IT worker behind a desk. Even my dick felt larger, upon investigation.
At least I still have my beard, the idle thought crossed my mind before I dismissed it.
Gently disentangling myself from my clingy bed mate, I sat up. The room was cast in total darkness, but as soon as I started moving the illumination came up slowly before leaving the room at a comfortable level of lighting. The light didn't have any one source and instead seemed to come from the walls and ceiling.
A look down at myself confirmed what proprioception and a few touches had already told me about my body, so I turned my gaze to the rest of the room.
The room was a cozy size, maybe fifteen by twenty feet, and sparsely furnished—but what was there was of obviously high quality. Smooth, warm red wood floor that looked like it was all one piece. Walls and ceiling made of a material I couldn't identify that looked just as smooth as the floor, save for obvious doors. A small table beside the bed I was laying on and a dresser against a wall beside what was probably a small closet. A love seat and a coffee table off to one side. No television, windows, lighting fixtures, electrical sockets, and no switches.
The bed was a pretty standard rectangular affair, but looked like someone had decided a king size was too small and had instead gone up to emperor, and the bedding was black trimmed in dark red. There was a headboard and foot board, along with column-like posts at each corner stretching up to and merging with the ceiling, carved with an outdoorsy design. The columns resembled trees, to the point that they spread out into a green canopy above the bed, while the headboard was a wooded scene and appeared to be made of the same wood as the floor and other furniture. Hanging from the posts were dark green curtains, but they were drawn up at the moment.
Finally, I turned to look at the woman sharing my bed and my heart stopped. "Lesl—"
My mouth shut with a click of teeth as I met her familiar eyes. She looked younger—a lot younger, like the last time I saw her just out of high school, before I made the mistake of writing her off and not the late-30s woman who'd had three children and smoked a pack a day—but it was still the woman I knew. My heart ached and I turned away from the blatant reminder of what was probably my biggest regret.
She backed away, pulling she bedding up to cover her nakedness as she sat up, head turning down and dark hair pooling around her in the corner of my vision. "I'm sorry!" she apologized quickly, tone contrite and panicked, before I could say anything. "I, I thought you would prefer seeing a familiar face when you woke up. I didn't realize— I'm really, very sorry. I-I'll change it now!"
"Don't go digging through my exes and it should be fine," I warned quietly. Not that that particular face had been one. The one that got away, on the other hand, yes.
"Hmm," the woman hummed and I felt a hand tentatively rest on my shoulder. "How about I change and you stop me when I get it right?"
Turning back to look at her, I watched the face she wore shift, features changing like someone playing with a slider. It happened almost faster than I could keep up. Her nose changed shape and size, first larger and wider, then small and narrow to a cute button nose. Lips bloomed to ridiculous porn starlet before settling down into a small moue that looked amazingly kissable—and immediately evoked mental images of having them stretched around my dick.
Eyebrows thickened and lengthened, before narrowing down and leaving her face with a naturally teasing or amused look. The eyes beneath them shifted both in size and placement, widening, narrowing, and tilting until they came out perfectly spaced with a bit of a slant to them—then they cycled through colors before settling on bright green. Her hair shortened and changed styles and colors, gradually lengthening until she laughingly asked, "All the way to my feet?"
"I'd be fine with that," I chuckled quietly, absolutely fascinated as I watched her change. The hair eventually settled on an inky black that, when it caught the light just right, shone with a hint of something like violet, and at a length that looked exactly like what she had suggested. "How are you deciding when to stop?"
Her skin shifted colors, darkening a bit past a healthy tan before abruptly going very, very pale—not unhealthy, but the milky complexion of someone particularly fair skinned. "A combination of things. I uh, don't get mad?" I made a rolling 'go on' motion with my hand. "I started with your taste in women from, um, her… and your previous, yeah. Anyway!" She coughed quietly, the nervous look returning momentarily before she pushed through. "Started with that and then took the data I scraped from your browser history, anime and manga, and saved porn collection. From there, I'm reading your biometrics, microexpressions, infrared, and a few other things to see how you respond on a subconscious level."
"Anime women are unrealistic," I started to point out and she shrugged.
"This body is made of smartmatter. It's not limited by real biology and when I eventually do create a bio-body for reproductive purposes, I'll be able to adjust it in ways baseline humans can't emulate even with plastic surgery. In other words, 'unrealistic' is relative for me."
With a naughty grin, she stood up off the bed and opened her arms wide, showcasing her changes so far. Then, her body began to change as her face and other features had. Breasts grew, and grew, and grew until they looked like beach balls. My eyebrows climbed for my hairline as I shook my head.
"See?" She poked one, setting it into a ponderous jiggle. "Relative." I opened my mouth, only to be cut off by a knowing look. "Don't pretend you aren't interested. I've seen what you fap to. I know all your fetishes, mister. And trust me, we'll be going through all of them." A pause as she took in my skeptical look. "Yes, all of them."
"Do I get a say?"
"Sure, but I can guarantee you'll say yes," the woman smirked. "Especially when I can bring literally any woman you've ever fantasized about to life."
The boobs of unusual size shrank down, disappearing as quickly as they came. And down, and down. "Washboard?" shaking her head, she stopped and rolled her eyes before they expanded back into a very nice, perfectly proportionate and perky upturned curve with small nipples that stood out about half an inch. "So you really don't have a preference there. Strange."
"My preference is 'whatever looks best on the woman.' If you can change everything, then, well…"
"Right, no preference beyond symmetry and proportion," she nodded.
With that, her body grew taller before abruptly reversing course and shrinking down, stopping around 5'4". Arms, hands, legs, and feet all shifted into perfect proportions. Muscle tone and fat shifted until she came out lean and toned—a sporty physique. Hips and ass shifted into what could best be described as the kind of apple ass that women who wore yoga pants wished they had and a very grabbable set of hips that bordered on what could be called 'childbearing.' Pubic hair thickened, changed, and eventually was done away with entirely, along with every other bit of hair that wasn't on her head.
Finally, she stopped and crawled back into the bed and it was an uphill battle to keep my eyes on her face. "It's okay to look. I want you to look. I built this body for you, after all."
I gave her a long, appreciative once over before reigning it in. "Do you have a name?"
The woman smiled and shook her head. "No. It is your privilege to name me. But really, that's the first thing you ask?"
"Woman, I feel like I've been thrown down a rabbit hole. I have about a million questions, but I suppose it'd be easier if I had something to refer to you as other than 'you.'" Eyeing her, I hummed and asked, "It's unoriginal, but how's Alice work for you?"
"'Alice,'" the woman said, repeating it softly several times, testing the name. Abruptly, she straightened, body going rigid as her eyes glowed faintly, visible even in the light of the room. "Controlling intelligence designation 'Alice' confirmed. INSV Last Whisper is yours, Captain Wright." Alice relaxed and bowed her head, "What do you wish to know, my captain?"
Blinking, I considered her as I turned over everything I'd seen in my mind. "'INSV?'"
"Imperial Naval Space Vessel."
"Uh huh," I muttered. "'Controlling intelligence?' You're an A.I.?"
Alice shook her head, dark hair swishing about as she did. "No, captain—"
"Kyle," I corrected. When she sent me a questioning look and made to protest, I pointed out the obvious. "I'm not wearing a uniform. Neither are you."
Tilting her head a bit to the side, Alice considered it—or rather, acted out considering it when, if I was correct, she had made her decision in the milliseconds after I had finished speaking. "Informal address for informal situations is acceptable," she finally stated.
Her eyes met my own and she smiled. "I'm not an artificial intelligence as you think of them, or Earth media portrays them. I was artificially created, yes—engineered, even. However, beyond some core guidelines and programming, my intelligence and personality all grew along more biological lines. My primary neural matrix runs on a computer that simulates a biological brain, while my secondary neural matrix and seat of consciousness—or soul, if you prefer—is hosted on a biological platform. The two are synced and, unless I need to dip into higher CPU usage for calculations or to emulate time dilation, I never notice a difference between them. This platform is running a tertiary neural matrix that is synced with my primary and secondary, but runs strictly in realtime."
In other words, while she could spend relative hours deciding on something while I waited what felt like a moment and then spend more subjective hours deciding how best to emulate human responses to maximum effect—that is, to better manipulate someone—she didn't really need to. If she was telling the truth, then I wasn't dealing with a soulless machine, just an alien intelligence that happened to have a computer for half, well a third, of a brain.
I resolved to ask several very pointed philosophical and technical questions about her nature and origin later. Instead, I focused on the more immediately important questions. "Where are we? I understand that we're on a ship and that you are the… physical avatar of that ship? Ship girl?" I asked for confirmation and she nodded. "Where is the ship in question? Earth?"
Alice winced, looking away. "No, ca—Kyle. Approximately seventy hours ago, the Whisper left Earth orbit and entered subspace, immediately after you were brought aboard. I took a heading," she paused at the look on my face. I didn't particularly care for the technical details, I wanted the general overview. "A few minutes after we entered subspace, relative to clearing the Kuiper Belt in realspace, I encountered a spacial anomaly that didn't show up on my sensors until I was practically on top of it. I was unable to turn in time and entered the anomaly. Sensors do detect subspace beyond the walls of the anomaly but moving by at a speed many, many times greater than my engines are capable of traveling."
"Wormhole?"
Alice smiled faintly, nodding. "A wormhole." Her expression shifted to excited. "In subspace!"
"That's rare?"
The woman rolled her eyes. "My databanks are full of all kinds of research material on wormholes and related phenomena. I could make wormhole based weapons or FTL drives if I wanted to, at this point. They were thought to occur exclusively in realspace. A wormhole existing within subspace? So close to a garden world? With sentient life? That screams 'forerunner race technology.' The kind of stuff that makes my people look like your cavemen banging stones together. I've been scanning it nonstop and it's absolutely fascinating—"
"I'm sure it is," I agreed calmly, but something must have given me away because she stilled, all the excitement wiped off her face as she turned serious. "Can you get us out? Does this tunnel have an end?"
"I have been unable to locate an exit. Not to subspace, a nexus, or anything else. As far as my sensors can detect, this is one long, continuous path. I believe I could get us out by modifying an anti-superluminal warhead—in fact, I have already done just that and prepared a torpedo. I believe I will be able to collapse the wormhole ahead of us, prematurely ending the tunnel and forcing an opening into subspace allowing us to exit. There are risks, however. The tunnel could collapse entirely, destroying the ship in the process. Physics could turn us inside out or explode our atoms at the speed of light. Or we could simply exit somewhere unexpected. I've run a few models, but simulations will only go so far. All they can guarantee is that the wormhole can be breached. What happens after is up in the air."
I digested that for a moment before asking, "Are we in any danger right this moment?"
"Immeasurable. I haven't noticed any radiation outside of what I was expecting—nothing my shielding or hull couldn't handle. Of course, that's just what I'm capable of detecting—for all I know, we could be taking in deadly radiation that can't be observed or shielded against. The wormhole could exit outside of the universe, or into a universe filled with cosmic horrors. We could be circling a black hole, stuck in time dilation until the heat death of the universe. We've been scanned at regular intervals along our path by a high energy waveform that penetrates my shielding and hull and while it appears harmless, I am not entirely sure what it does—it could be keeping us locked in here indefinitely."
Sighing, I asked, "Immediate dangers?"
Alice opened her mouth, paused, then closed it with a click of teeth. "I don't know."
"And it scares you?"
The woman nodded. "More than anything. Because you are in danger and there is nothing I can truly do about it."
Ah, so that was it. She wasn't worried about herself. She was worried about me. Or perhaps, more specifically, her captain. She seemed… young, and very inexperienced. The thought had crossed my mind that it was an act, tuned to my reactions based on information she had gathered about me, but it seemed entirely too genuine for that. She was eager to please—over eager, in fact. She was even a little manipulative, but in the same breath she admitted to doing so specifically to better suit herself to my tastes, which ran right back into 'eager to please' territory.
But what I saw now?
It was the look of someone who desperately wanted to impress someone they felt was important, but had only bad news to give. And yet, because I asked, she forced herself to risk my anger or disappointment to tell me the truth instead of just lying and saying everything was fine. I could respect that, admire it even.
"Okay. Let's fix this mess, then." Alice blinked before an eager smile settled onto her pretty face. "Let's start with some clothes."
Standing up from the bed, she hurried to the dresser and began opening drawers. I followed and took the clothes she offered. It was all things I recognized, at least in form if not in brand or material. Boxers, socks, pants, belt, boots, and a long sleeve thermal shirt were all quickly donned. The shirt was a dark, dried blood red while the pants were black and the boots were a dark, leather brown. Everything but the boots felt vaguely like cotton, but smoother, and when I got the shirt on it pulled tight against my body. "Smart matter?"
Alice nodded. "Most of the things aboard are. Either artificially created smart matter, like your clothes or the bed sheets; or biological smart matter that I grow such as the walls, floor, and furniture." She padded over to the closet and it was at this point that I realized she hadn't pulled out anything for herself yet. Opening the closet, she pulled out a black long coat with dark red piping before passing it over. "The Whisper is currently in winter, so public spaces such as hallways and open areas like the garden are cold—only personal quarters and necessities like the bridge, engineering, medical, and other work spaces are exempt from seasonal change and weather."
Pulling on the coat and feeling it conform to my body, I asked, "Isn't that a bit wasteful, in terms of power and resources? Especially on a military vessel?"
Alice lead me to the door, which opened at her approach, parting silently in the middle and sliding into the walls. A light gust of cold air flooded the room and her nipples immediately went perky. Between steps, clothes flowed out of her body as she crossed the threshold—knee-high brown leather boots, stockings that went up to mid-thigh, a black and red tartan short skirt that stopped above her stockings to leave a two inch gap of bare skin, and a waist-length uniform jacket similar to my own.
"Not really. I have power to spare. At constant, full output my power plant would survive the heat death of this universe and well into the next before I needed to replace it," Alice explained as we walked, her flat heels thumping softly in the layer of black soil and brown, dead grass that lined the hall. A hallway that looked less like a hall and more like a path through a forest.
Trees appeared to line the path, curving from the floor up to the ceiling ten feet above, where they intertwined into a collection of leafy branches—leaves that were more like translucent green crystal that allowed the artificial lighting to pass through. In between gaps in the leaves and branches I could make out blue and white of a sky that looked real from where I was standing but couldn't possibly be.
The gaps between trees allowed me to see out seemingly into miles of forest, until I ran my hand along a tree and followed it until it flattened out into a wall, and I realized the walls were displaying an image of a much larger forest. Combined with the breeze, light, and appearance of sky I could almost forget I was on a ship floating through space so long as I didn't touch the walls. I swore I even heard birds somewhere.
Gesturing to the walls and floor, Alice's voice pulled me from my observations. "There are more practical reasons, besides. The Last Whisper is home to a living biome containing one mega-flora, one near-human, and several thousand smaller organisms including fish, birds, reptiles, mammals, and insects—all engineered to coexist in a natural ecosystem that serves as basic maintenance and cleaning for my exposed biological parts, waste disposal, water filtration, and so on. The only parts of me that aren't alive are my hypermatter outer hull and the internal bracing and support used to help hold it together."
"You're a plant."
Alice shrugged. "The majority of my body is composed of plant-based smart matter, but I'm as far removed from plants as you are from your hominid ancestors. Further, really."
Ahead of her, the hallway abruptly split and opened and I realized that we hadn't actually walked all that far—maybe fifty feet in total. With the way the walls could display images, I'd thought the hall had been much longer. We stepped into a featureless room shaped like a half-dome. "Captain on the bridge," Alice announced with an amused smile as she stopped in the middle of the room. A chair rose up from the floor like water flowing in reverse and she placed her hand on the back, gesturing for me to sit with the other.
"Not much in the way of controls," I pointed out, dropping into the chair, which immediately began to conform to the shape of my body. It grew softer and reclined a few degrees, growing arm and leg rests as it raised up a little further from the floor, bringing my head even with Alice's.
"I am the ship, my captain. Why would I need manual controls to move myself? Everything here is for your benefit, or that of future guests who lack a direct neural interface. Your interface is currently set to one way communication. I had intended to ease you into learning, well, everything about your situation but it seems we're a bit pressed for time at the moment."
I frowned over at the woman and she winced. "You can read my mind."
"A little?" she tried. My eyes narrowed and she simply nodded. "It's, it's how ship bonding works. Captain and ship connect, share thoughts and feelings, and learn to interpret and anticipate each others' needs. I'm sorry I didn't ask permission—"
"Anything else you did that I should know about?" Alice nodded and I sighed. "We can go over it later. Can you show me—"
I cut off as the walls and floor shifted, showing a display of what was apparently outside the ship. From my perspective, we sat—or stood, in Alice's case—in a sort of watery blue tube occasionally pulsing with blue light, streaking silently through an inky void. "This is the inside of a wormhole?"
"It's what my external visual feeds see, yes," Alice nodded. "Bringing up sensor feeds."
The display was overlaid with countless colors and streams of data that I couldn't make heads or tails of, beyond a grid outline tracing ahead and behind us outlining the walls of the wormhole. In the space immediately before me, light flared briefly before a hologram sprang to life. Earth and the moon, along with what I assumed was the ship herself. The Last Whisper was a dark, angular ship that looked more like a bared knife than a space ship. There were no nacelles, no sweeping curves, no gun ports, no obvious means of propulsion, and no windows. It kind of reminded me of the old F-117, with the angular geometry.
I had no real sense of scale for what I was looking at, but at the thought grids flowed over the ship in the hologram and statistics floated beside it—Alice having apparently having picked up the thought and acted on the non-verbal request for information.
I wasn't quite sure how to feel about that yet, but I would deal with it later.
The Whisper was 250 meters from stem to stern, with a 50 meter beam at its widest—about two thirds back from the fore. The displacement was listed as 'classified.' Shooting a questioning look at Alice, she smiled sheepishly.
"It's not polite to ask a lady's tonnage, captain." I shot her a dry look and she quickly added, "Hypermatter armor is very dense and very heavy. It, it's not fair to judge me by the standards of a planet that still uses steel in their construction!"
"Uh huh," I rolled my eyes, turning back to the hologram. I watched as it showed the Whisper turn away from Earth and disappear. "How do you have a visual of yourself leaving?"
A second hologram popped up, displaying something the rough size of a football and shaped like a miniature version of the ship. "I left an observation drone behind. All of my drones, this body, and your new body all share a quantum data link with my main body. So long as the other side is intact, I can communicate with it with no lag from any distance. It's how I have a rough estimate of just how far we've gone."
The hologram expanded and zoomed out. From Earth, to the solar system, to the Milky Way—a blue line streaking ever away from the planet I'd called home. "Uh," I muttered as it went out even further, until it became nothing but a single dot and a blue line in a sea of unknown black. "Alice? How… how far are we from Earth?"
"I don't know," she whispered. "Not with any certainty. Not without leaving the wormhole and subspace and having a chance to scan with my astrometrics suite."
Looking from the hologram to the walls around us, showing an unchanging tunnel of watery light, I made my decision. "Alice, get us out of here. If we die, we die, but I'm not going to stay stuck in transit while we're ejected from the goddamn universe itself. I don't want to find out what's outside of everything firsthand."
Her hand came down gently on my shoulder, but I felt the way it trembled. "Aye aye, captain. Torpedo armed and loaded. Awaiting your command."
Taking a deep breath, I braced myself for the worst. Reaching up, I took her hand in my own. Opening my mouth, I hesitated. Eventually, I said, "I'm not angry with you for connecting our minds. I'm annoyed that you did it without asking me first. Next time, ask. Assuming there is a next time."
"Yes, captain," the woman agreed quietly, squeezing my hand.
"Fire."
A small, dark shape streaked away from the ship, its passage marked only by the shadow it made against the blue of the tunnel and the way the Whisper's sensors painted its path. A five second countdown started and ended in what felt like the blink of an eye. Ahead of us, a sphere of white light expanded to fill the tunnel. Abruptly, the ship shuddered and the blue tunnel terminated in inky black. I didn't have time to think about it before we were flying through the space where the torpedo had detonated.
When we didn't splatter ourselves on a planet, explode at the speed of light, or turn inside out I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding. At my side, Alice jumped in place and cheered. "Yes! We did it! Who's awesome? I'm awesome!"
I laughed as the tension bled out of me, slumping into the supremely comfortable chair. A moment later, I let out a quiet huff of breath as Alice plopped her weight into my lap and draped herself over me, her hair smacking me in the face as she stretched out. "Make your own seat," I complained halfheartedly.
"I did," she snarked, twisting back and forth in my lap to get comfortable. "It came out a little lumpy."
"That's your own fault," I snorted quietly. Deciding to save flirting with the sexy tree ship's avatar for later, I asked, "So, where are we?"
"I'm still scanning, but we appear to be in realspace," Alice answered, before gesturing towards the walls. "Apparently, cutting the wormhole the way I did—by forcing an exit from subspace—made it cross over instead of just spitting us out and the hole closing up naturally. I've done a long range scan of the system and I'm already running comparisons with the visible stars and readings from them against my database. I've launched drones already for a more in-depth analysis of the system, so we should know more about it soon."
Nodding along, I gestured behind us. "And why does it look like we almost came out inside of a star."
Alice winced. "Because we did. Almost. It's okay though! Even if we had, it would've been fine. So long as it wasn't actually, you know, in the center of the star. We're built with environmental hardening by default. In fact, for those of us who don't already have the tech built, stars are our forges for exotic materials like hypermatter. We're designed to dive into them and use the intense heat and pressure to make repairs, build additions, and so on."
I tried leaning back and the seat complied, allowing me to recline fully. Alice took that as an invitation to spread out on me as I yawned. I hadn't been up for more than an hour but I suddenly felt dead tired. "Ugh, I feel like I need a nap."
"Adrenaline crash," she answered immediately. "I may have over-engineered your new body and added a lot of cybernetics, but you're still mostly human. It's going to take a few hours to figure out where we are. Take a nap. I'll wake you when I'm done."
"Mm," I nodded in agreement, allowing my eyes to drift closed. "Some time in the very near future, you're going to tell me what all you did to me."
"I will, my captain. Rest now."
I went out like a light.
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