FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

(This program contains sexual situations and strong language. 18+ viewers only)

They were alone in the hangar, and, everything was going according to plan-- so far. The silent bodies of a hundred aircraft loomed over them, sleeping, waiting to roar to life and take wing into the sky. For now, the only sound was the scrape of the tiny plastic wheels on Camille's roller bag, but it echoed off the vast walls into a dull roar as Jack dragged it along.

Jack shifted under the mountain of Camille's pink polka-dot luggage. Each step was a labor, but, despite the growing ache in his lower back, he was excited. He'd spent six months and tens of thousands of dollars preparing for this moment. Now, finally, all the pieces were in place.

It was time to win her back.

Camille was out of his league, no question. She was a registered nurse; he worked at Pizza Hut. She modeled on the side; he wore mismatched clothes. She went out with friends on weeknights; he was so bad at first impressions, he was trying to win his ex back instead of risking another awkward Tinder date. Her eyes twinkled as she gazed up at the impressive aircraft.

"This is getting crazy, Jack. Did you charter a private jet?"

"Something like that," he teased.

They made their way past the sleek, sleeping luxury jets, past the business jets and the private planes into the section of the hangar reserved for charter craft. Big impressive planes gave way to modest, personal craft, losing windows and wingspan. He dropped her bags in front of a tiny, propellered Cessna and beamed proudly.

"Madam, may I present: your chariot."

Camille's face dropped. "This old thing? It looks like it can hardly fly!"

Jack's heart sank. True, this was the cheapest plane available, but that didn't mean renting it was, well. . . cheap.

"What, did you think I won the lottery?"

"Maybe. I hoped--" Camille huffed and furrowed her brow. "This isn't what I had in mind when you offered me a free flight to Aspen. And besides, who's going to fly it?"

Jack grinned. Time for the big reveal.

"I am."

"You!? Just because you waste your life away on those flight simulators doesn't mean you know how to fly a plane!"

"I've been busy since we broke up. I thought a lot about what you said during that last fight, and decided you were right. I quit the sims cold turkey." He reached into his pocket and lifted up a set of keys. "As of last week, I'm officially a licensed pilot."

Camille crossed her arms. "Ugh. I knew this was some elaborate plot to try to get back together with me."

"It's not a plot! I just thought if we spent some time together, and you saw what I've been up to. . ."

"Unbelievable!" Camille cried, shaking her head. "Look, this is really sweet, Jack, don't get me wrong. It's just. . . I have an ear infection. I can't fly in an unpressurized cabin right now, I'd die!"

"You have an ear infection? Oh, sorry, I didn't realize. . ."

"It's fine, Jack. I'll let you make it up to me." She pulled out her phone and tapped away. "There's a Delta flight leaving in an hour. Buy me a ticket, and-- when I get back-- I'll consider going on a date with you."

With that, she snatched her roller bag, turned, and stormed back toward the terminal. Jack groaned, buried his head in his hands, and chastised himself. Stupid! Of course she wouldn't want to take a bush plane over the rockies with an inexperienced pilot. But, as the rumbling of her roller grew distant, his mood started to turn around. After all, She had offered a date. All he had to do was buy her a plane ticket. Maybe this wasn't such a failure after all.

A bizarre, harmonic humming sound echoed through the hangar. Jack's head jerked up, but the sound was gone as quick as it had come. That's when he noticed Camille's overstuffed ski-bag sitting at his feet.

"Camille! You forgot your skis!"

Silence. He couldn't even hear the roar of her roller bag. He squinted down the line of planes, but she was nowhere to be found. There was no way she'd made it out of the hanger that fast.

"Camille?"

Jack jogged toward the terminal, glancing around the aircraft. There was no sign of Camille or anyone. He was alone.

Suddenly, the hum returned, this time it was right behind him. He spun around to see a golden filament suspended in the air. As he watched, it widened, opening up like a hole in space itself. The hum intensified and then, with a loud snap and a brilliant flash of light, ended. He blinked his eyes rapidly as the spots faded from his vision. There, on the ground was dark, shiny sphere.

The sphere shook and unfolded itself like a pill bug insectoid legs clicking against the concrete. The creature that emerged looked like a cat-sized termite. It stood on long spindly legs and dragged a bloated, pale grub-like body on the ground behind it. Jack didn't know animals, but he knew bugs didn't grow that big.

He gasped, and the creature turned sharply toward the sound, then lunged for him. Jack dodged, and only his exceptional reflexes, honed by years of video games, saved him from getting a face-full of alien bug. The creature sailed past his head, one of its legs brushing against his cheek.

Jack dropped the ski bag and ran as fast as he could, heading anywhere as long as it was away from that horrible bug. The skitter scatter of his pursuer followed close behind, growing louder as it gained on him. He ducked between two planes and glanced backwards in time to see the alien's legs scraping on the concrete as it turned to follow.

His foot hit something and he tumbled to the ground. It was Camille's roller bag, abandoned. The creature vaulted off the luggage and sailed toward him, crashing into his chest. He tried to fend it off, but it held tight with its pointed legs and crawled around his torso, onto his back.

He'd seen enough Alien movies not to know where this was going. He clasped a defensive hand over his mouth as he flailed at the creature. But instead of hugging onto his face like he expected, it veered south. It clamped its iron-grip legs around his hips, and used its razor mandibles to tear through his jeans like they were tissue paper.

Jack flailed and screamed and tried with all his might to pry the thing off of his behind, but it was no use. Once his pants were out of the way, The creature curled its pliant, pearlescent abdomen up against his exposed flesh. Its slimy tip slid up and down his butt crack, searching, and finally, it caught against his asshole and pressed in. He clenched his anus like his life depended on it. For a brief moment, it worked, but soon his sphincter muscles tired, faltered, and the slick, insistent length penetrated him.

He gasped and froze as the monster pressed its organ deeper and deeper into his bowels. Hot jets of fluid splashed against his insides, and soon the painful stretching was replaced by a cold, numb, full feeling in his colon.

He moved to pry the creature away, but a wave of tingling weakness washed over him. He collapsed, helpless. All he could do was lay still and endure the creature's violation of his anus. The last thing he experienced before he lost consciousness was the familiar sound of a otherworldly hum and a flash of golden light.

Star Sex: Catalyst

Episode One - Pilot

Written and Directed by Xerox2

Jack's eyes opened sluggishly. There was a bright light in front of him. Above him? He was laying down. An unfamiliar woman leaned over him.

"Ah, you're awake. Don't move too quickly. You've been through a lot," she cooed in a breathy, seductive voice.

His eyes adjusted to the light, but what he saw confused him. The woman looked like something out of a teenager's wet dream. She wore a medical uniform that seemed more appropriate for a sexy stripper than a medical professional, with a low-cut top that strained to contain her massive breasts. Her olive skin, from her ample cleavage to her tweezed eyebrows, was air-brush blemishless. Her puffy crimson-painted lips pouted with concern.

Jack's head pounded as strained to remember why he was waking up on the set of a high-budget porno.

"There was a monster. . ." he groaned, trying to sit up.

The woman placed a manicured hand on his chest. "Relax, no monsters here. Allow me."

The back of the bed rose with an electric whirr until he was in a sitting position. The room was clean and well-lit, but filled with all sorts of unfamiliar futuristic equipment. Sleek displays and unusual, sterile-looking equipment were arranged purposefully in the center of the circular room. The walls curved elegantly around a series of beds like the one he was laying in, forming a semi-private nook for each one. Nobody else was around, just him and the woman.

"There's something you need to know, Jack," she said, looking him in the eyes. "You've been involved in an incident."

"A-- an accident?"

Jack clenched his eyes and opened them. He felt normal, save a powerful throbbing coming from between his legs. A blanket covered him from the neck down. He checked for the bulge of an embarrassing erection, but there was none. Instead, he saw a large lump under the blanket between his legs. It was as big as his thigh, stretching from his crotch to his knees. At first he thought it was some part of the bed, but then he shifted, and it twitched.

"Now, try to stay calm."

He ventured a shaky, exploratory touch beneath the covers, and what he felt confused him. The object was warm and smooth, and it pulsed and churned like it was alive. Stranger still, he could feel the touch of his fingers against it. It was a part of him. His balls? He pictured his scrotum all swollen and distended, filled with some horrible parasite, and ice ran through his veins.

He threw the blanket away. There, resting between his thighs, was a pale, segmented, grub-like abdomen.

"Ahhh!" he screamed, "it's the monster!"

He leapt out of bed, but the alien sack followed him, sending him off-balance and tumbling toward the floor. The sexy doctor caught him and held fast with a surprisingly firm grip. She planted a quick kiss on his cheek, and he immediately felt his panic fade. He could feel his heart beat pounding in the organ that now hung between his legs as it slowed and returned to a normal pace.

It was a part of him.

The doctor guided him back into bed, carefully helping him rest the abdomen between his legs as he sat.

"There, there, everything's going to be okay. I've administered a sedative. I knew I should have put you in bondage."

"You drugged. . . your lipstick?" Jack mumbled, slurring his words.

The doctor's kiss might have ended Jack's panic attack, but his mind was still in a tailspin trying to make heads or tails of the situation. Now atop the covers, he noticed more changes in his groin. His penis and balls were nowhere to be seen, replaced by a pair of smooth, chitinous plates. The abdomen sprouted where his taint and anus used to be, his own human skin fading seamlessly into the supple, pale flesh. He flexed a muscle that should have made his dick jump and watched the alien organ contract and relax.

"What the fuck is wrong with me!?"

The woman stroked his arm. "Ssshhh you're okay. Like I said, there was an incident. But don't worry, you're completely healthy. The gaster has merged without any complications."

"G-gaster?"

She placed her hand on his shoulder. "I should explain. First, let me introduce myself. I'm Doctor Cand-e."

"Hey, uh, I'm Jack."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Jack." The words slid sensually from her full, luscious lips, lips that he could hardly picture speaking any other way.

"The creature you encountered earlier was a member of a recently discovered alien species, the Salekk. You are the first human ever to make physical contact with one. Unfortunately, that seems to have involved the alien merging with you. It's formed a complete parabiotic bond, supplanting your reproductive organs with an external gaster. Your vitals are perfectly fine, but, you should know, your new reproductive organs appear to be female."

Jack stared at the undulating gaster between his legs.

"Female? My organs?" His stomach tied itself in a knot at the thought. "No. No way. We gotta get rid of this thing. Can you cut it off?"

Cand-e pursed her puffy lips in thought. "Unfortunately, It's not that simple. We know so little about these creatures, and it's extensively integrated. Your bloodstream, metabolism, immune system, it's all intertwined. For now, there's nothing we can do besides monitor your condition. That said, judging from what I've seen so far, I don't think you're in any danger."

Jack reached down and prodded the bulging organ, pressing against the tough skin and the unfamiliar structures inside. The massage brought a surprising hint of pleasure, but it was unwanted, and he stopped. "Will I ever be normal again?"

Cand-e leaned forward, giving him an eyeful of her ridiculous cleavage. His heart fluttered at the sight, despite the circumstances. If he still had his penis, it would have started to swell. Instead he felt a strange shifting in his gaster and an odd chill at its tip that shivered up his spine.

"I'll work day and night to find a way to restore you, I promise. I'm optimistic; we have excellent medical technology."

"Who are 'we?' Where am I? Is this some sort of secret government research facility?"

Cand-e gave him a sultry smile.

"And why are you dressed like that?"

"We'll answer all your questions soon, but right now my responsibility to you is as your doctor. I need to finish your consultation and make sure you're as healthy as you look."

Jack nodded, and she donned a pair of shiny elbow-length gloves made of a white latex. Like the rest of her outfit, they seemed more costume than medical. She ran her fingertips across his stomach, down his hips, and over his groin, prodding and testing the flat, chitinous structures that replaced his junk. Her touch was both expertly precise and undeniably sensual. The chill at the tip of his gaster intensified, though nothing seemed to be touching it.

"Tell me how this feels."

She guided her patient onto his side, and her massage moved lower, down to where the organ's flesh melded with his own. The connection reached from halfway up his ass crack to the midpoint of his taint, pushing his butt cheeks apart with its girth. Newly formed arteries beat against her probing touch in time with Jack's nervous heart.

"Anything?" she asked.

"It feels normal," Jack said, perfectly aware of how bizarre it was to say those words about an part of his body that, only minutes ago, had been a separate creature.

"Does it hurt? Tingle?"

"No. It's just like you're rubbing my stomach. I think the underside is more sensitive than the back."

Cand-e hummed an acknowledgement, and worked her fingertips lower, now massaging the bulk of the grub-like sack. Her touch was gentle but firm, prodding and stroking every inch of the tender organ. Certain spots lit up with pleasurable, undeniably sexual warmth as she rubbed them. The closer she moved to the tip, the more the massage started feeling less like a tummy rub and more like a hand-job. Despite his confusing, desperate circumstances, Jack found his mind turning to sex. He pictured Cand-e giving her blouse the tiniest tug, freeing her monsterous tits, leaning down, guiding his hand to caress the soft, maternal mountains. He'd sneak a hand to cup her perfectly plup ass, sliding his hand up under that skirt. . .

"Well?" she asked, interrupting his thoughts.

"Um. It feels good," he responded curtly.

Cand-e met his gaze and hinted a smile. She kneaded the ridges along the underside of his sack, and his nervous muscles loosened up. The tense, hard-rubber flesh softened and relaxed its shape. He closed his eyes and exhaled slowly, enjoying the relief the massage brought. As her touch neared the tip of the organ, the sexual pleasure spiked, and he inhaled sharply.

She paused. "Pain?"

"No, it's good it's just--"

"It's erotic?"

Jack nodded sheepishly.

"This whole thing is a giant reproductive organ," Cand-e explained, petting it like a prize hog. "It's pumping you so full of sexual hormones, you'd think you'd been merged with a woman in her third trimester. It's bound to supercharge your libido."

Jack wished she wasn't right, but, sure enough, he was growing frustratingly, desperately horny. "Whatever. I can ignore it."

Cand-e tisked. "Don't ignore the messages your body is giving you. Sexual satisfaction can be critical to a patient's overall health. "

"Don't ignore it? I don't have a dick anymore. What am I supposed to do about it?"

Cand-e pursed her lips. "I think you'll find there's quite a bit you can do about it. Here, let me show you."

She ran a gloved finger from his bellybutton down the underside of his gaster toward the sensitive tip. Jack could swear he saw her lick her lips.

"This conduct isn't very-- uh, professional."

"Nonsense. Stories of my bedside manner, often have," she winked, "happy endings."

Jacks eyes went wide.

Cand-e straightened up. "But if you're not comfortable getting the full treatment, let me at least show you how to do it yourself. Here, try curling your egg sack up toward your stomach."

Jack was skeptical, but he focused his will on the foreign bodypart. It twitched, then flopped forward so that its tip was pointing toward his face. He gasped at the sight. Dominating the end of his gaster were the unmistakable folds of a feminine sex. It was human enough to be recognizable, but only just. A multitude of rubbery labial lips blossomed from a sizable slit that glistened with moisture. He shuddered as a the cool air of the medical ward wafted against the tender flesh. A pair of stubby brown spindle-limbs, like a pair of chitin-covered fingers, sat on either side of the organ, wriggling at his will. He tensed at the bizarre sight, and the alien pussy twitched in turn.

"The fuck is that!?" Jack yelped, scooting backwards on the sheets as if he could escape it.

"This is your new sex," Cand-e proclaimed. "I said it was female. Females tend to have pussies. I'm not going to have to give you another sedative, am I?"

Jack stared, mouth agape. "No I-- I'm okay. But I'm a man, dammit, not a-- a 'female.'"

"Then you are a man with a pussy." Cand-e sat next to him on the bed. "I've seen my share of surprise gender reassignment, and the worst thing you could do is pretend it doesn't exist. Good health starts with having a familiarity with your body. Even if you decide you hate having a pussy, you have to get to know it. Look at it in the mirror, examine it, explore it." With that, she inserted two fingers into her mouth. When she withdrew them, they were coated in translucent slime that looked too viscous to be saliva. "Don't be afraid. Here, I'll help you."

"Uh--"

"Don't worry. This won't hurt a bit."

Cand-e ran her lubed up fingertips along the length of his opening, sending an intense tickle crackling through his gaster and into his stomach. "You should be proud. It's a beautiful vulva, a true magnolia. It's large and powerful, but look at these folds. They're delicate and elegant. It's so perfect, it makes we wonder if it was, at some point, designed. Perhaps through genetic engineering?"

With that, she pressed her fingertip into the crease, sinking it all the way to the third knuckle in one smooth motion. Jack gasped. His passage clenched around the foreign object, and, to his surprise, it felt absolutely wonderful. Her finger was warm, a comforting, reassuring fullness. He bit his tongue to stifle a moan.

"See? That's not so bad, is it?" she asked, gently rotating and flexing her finger inside of him. Tides of pleasure thrummed from his pussy with each subtle motion. That nagging voice that that screamed warnings about the sheer absurdity of the situation was crowded out by the incessant urging of his growing lust. He wanted more.

As if reading his mind, Cand-e slipped another finger inside his slit and began to work them in and out. Each stroke came with a soft slicking sound and a pulse of bliss. "Your pussy's large, but the musculature is hyper-developed. You could take monsterous cocks, yet you're still tight around a pair of fingers. It's as if you've been designed to be sexually compatible with as many species as possible! Fascinating."

Jack was only half paying attention. Cand-e's apparent medical knowledge didn't hold a candle to her sexual expertise. Each pump of her fingers was just right, perfectly timed, just deep enough. He moaned, this time too absorbed to stop it. Cand-e stopped talking, bit her lower lip, and slipped a third finger between his greedy lips. She curled and spread her fingers inside of him, playing his pussy like an instrument.

Jack's mind was awash with sensation unlike anything he'd ever felt before, intensity growing and cascading, consuming everything around him until he was nothing but a pussy being finger-fucked into oblivion. He reached a tipping point, and the pleasure tumbled out of his control, gaining speed, racing off a cliff and falling, falling, falling wildly into an ocean of ecstasy. His passage clenched hard around her fingers, so hard he was afraid he'd hurt them. But then the climax faded, and the world returned. Jack was left panting.

Cand-e smiled and withdrew her hand with a slurp. "That wasn't so bad, now was it?"

Jack relaxed his gaster with a sigh, and it flopped onto the bed between his legs. "No," he admitted, "but it was really weird." His heart sank as that questioning voice inside his head returned. He didn't enjoy weird, perverted stuff, but he had enjoyed that.

At that moment, one of the room's arched doorways slid open with a metallic hiss. Three people entered the room, one in front and two following close behind. The leader was a middle-aged woman. Her skin was the color of dark roast coffee, but the stern features of her face hinted at Japanese heritage. Her uniform had green accents and a form-fitting cut that managed to show off her matronly curves while still remaining professional. She had a commanding presence; her posture was effortless, her motions deliberate. She regarded Jack with a look of austere intelligence that immediately motivated him to give a good impression. As she approached, he rushed to cover his bizarre anatomy with the blanket.

"I'm captain Hiroko Sarr," she announced, holding out her hand.

Jack shook it meekly. She had a firm grip. "My name's Jack Tanner. Hi."

The men behind her watched the interaction carefully. They carried themselves like bodyguards and wore uniforms with red accents. Everyone's uniform had a silver insignia affixed to the chest in the shape of a ?. Cand-e and the captain had one as well.

"Welcome Mr. Tanner," Captain Sarr said with a nod before turning to the doctor. "How's our patient doing, Cand-e?"

Cand-e beamed. "Healthy as could be. You're looking at the first human-Salekk hybrid."

Captain Sarr glanced at the bulge of Jack's gaster and narrowed her lips. "I doubt he's as excited as you are about the medical significance of his condition." She turned to Jack and spoke earnestly. "I'm sorry this had to happen to you. It was never supposed to be this way."

Jack shook his head. "Thanks for the apology, but listen, miss--"

"Ma'am will do."

"Sorry. Ma'am, I just want to know what's going on."

Captain Sarr nodded. "Very well. When and where were you born?"

"Austin, Texas. 1990. Why?"

"Mr. Tanner, by your date system it is the year 2320. You've been transported into the future. Furthermore, you're nowhere near Earth. You are on board a star ship, the E.S.S. Catalyst. I am her captain. Doctor Cand-e is my chief medical officer."

She paused for a response. Jack managed to sputter "W-what?"

"Frankly, I have no idea how you got here. It was an accident, and our scientists are investigating how it happened. Unfortunately, that accident is complicating an extremely fragile situation, and now you're tangled up as well. I need you to join me and my senior staff on the bridge."

Jack shook his head. "This is crazy. You expect me to believe I'm on a spaceship in the future? Absurd! I'm staying right here until I get real answers and this. . . thing removed."

"I understand how overwhelming this must all be, but I'm afraid I must insist. This ship-- and everyone aboard-- is in grave danger. We need your help. I'll answer as many questions as I can on the way."

Her tone was deadly serious. If this woman was an actor, she deserved an Oscar. And even if she was lying, she was the only one offering any sort of explanation. Jack decided to play along, for now.

"Uh, okay. Fine."

The captain nodded. "Cand-e, get this man some clothes."

Cand-e reached under the bed and produced a teal medical gown and slippers. She handed them to Jack and gave the captain a full medical report as he dressed himself. Standing, he found the "gown" was more like a long t-shirt. It only reached his mid-thigh, and his gaster tented the fabric behind him and hung a good ten inches out of the bottom. It was strange to feel the extra weight bobbing behind him, and he was painfully aware that his shamefully misplaced vulva was left totally exposed.

"I can't go out like this!" he cried, craning his neck to look at himself, "people can see. . . it!"

Captain Sarr crossed her arms impatiently. "Trust me, Mr Tanner, this gown is totally sufficient. No one cares if they see an alien's reproductive organs. When it comes to non-humans and clothes, all bets are off."

Jack frowned. "I am a human."

A smile hinted across Sarr's face. "Humans don't have gasters, do they? Now come on, they're waiting on us. Care to discharge your patient, Cand-e?"

Cand-e smiled and curtsied. "Of course! I want to see him daily to check up on his condi--"

Cand-e was interrupted by a deep rumble that shook the room. Jack had to hold the bed to keep his balance, but the Captain hardly flinched. She tapped the triangular badge on her lapel.

"Damage report."

"Shields at 98%," came a tinny, male voice. "Looks like our friends are getting impatient."

"Move to red alert. We're on our way." She closed the comm link and turned to Cand-e.

"Very well, arrange daily check-ins for our guest-- assuming we make it to tomorrow. Mr. Tanner, Cand-e you're with me."

With that, she turned and headed for the door.

Jack-- still not used to the unusual weight hanging between his legs nor sold on wearing an outfit that left his still-moist slit waving in the open air-- stumbled after the captain. Cand-e and the two security officers followed close behind.

The automatic door opened into an arched hallway of sleek, futuristic design. The passage was functional, the ground free of clutter. An array of lamps incorporated into the wall provided ample light. An additional stripe of red lighting ran the length of the ceiling and pulsed in time with a blaring klaxxon. Uniformed crew members hustled to and fro with urgency.

If this was some sort of hoax, it was extremely elaborate.

The crew made way for the Captain and her retinue. She spoke as they walked. "I hope we can get you back to your own time soon, but as long as you're here, you've got a lot of catching up to do. 2019 CE was a long time ago.

"As I said before, you're aboard the Starship Catalyst, one of the Earth Empire's state-of-the-art Fortune-class vessels. Our mission is to chart new space, seek out untapped resources, gather treasures, and convince independent human colonies to join The Empire."

"You're telling me you work for a non-democratic 'Empire' as conquistadors?"

"We prefer 'explorers.' Conquistadors are conquerors. We're armed for self-defense only. As for the non-democratic nature of The Empire, humans have known for centuries that a benevolent dictatorship was the most efficient form of government. We've simply succeeded in implementing it."

Jack might have thought up some follow-up questions if he wasn't so distracted, both absorbing the sights and sounds of the starship and also re-learning to walk with an insectoid abdomen hanging from his rear. A regular stride caused the sack to wave in wide arcs behind him, awkwardly brushing up against walls and once against one of the security officer's legs. Jack apologized and tried curling the organ up between his legs and holding it under the gown against his stomach, but it was uncomfortable and it made him waddle awkwardly. Eventually, he learned to use the sack's own muscles to counteract his hips' sway, keeping the organ neatly centered below his ass. It must have been a strange sight, but everyone they passed seemed too preoccupied with the red alert to care much about a man with a gaster hanging out of his gown. Still, he did catch quite a few glances. He tried his best to ignore them.

They paused at an elevator. When its curved doors opened, Jack nearly jumped out of his skin. A fearsome-looking creature stood inside. At first glance, it looked like a cross between a woman and a hyena. She stood at least six foot six inches tall on a pair of large, beastial paws. The overall shape of its body-- and the moderatly-sized breasts-- clearly marked the creature as female, though she was built like a professional athlete. Her thick shoulders and long neck led to a hyena-looking head, but her vibrantly colored skin and lack of fur made her extra-terrestrial origins clear. Her blue "uniform" was cut like a once-piece swimsuit, unlike the cover-all jumpsuits the humans wore.

"Captain," she grunted in a husky, feminine voice.

Jack stood frozen, mouth agape at the real-life alien. Any doubts he may have had about Captain Sarr's explanation evaporated. He was so shocked, one of the security officers had to nudge him inside. He squeezed in next to the creature, and she looked down at him with yellow eyes.

"This is the guest of honor?"

"Indeed," said the captain. "His name is Jack Tanner."

She held out her paw. "Welcome aboard, Jack. I'm Lieutenant Bu, Chief Engineer."

"Nice to meet you." Jack took her hand. She had a strong grip, and the rough pads on her palms scraped his skin.

Jack felt something tickle against his gaster. It was Bu's tail, a rope-like length tipped with a blue tuft of fur that largely resembled something off the back of a cow. It emerged from a hole in the back of her uniform. The garment was stretched tight around her plump butt and, Jack now noticed, a fist-sized bulge in the front. Standing as close as they were, it was inches from his stomach.

"Like what you see?" Bu asked.

Jack startled and glanced away. "Oh sorry, no," he stammered. Bu tilted her head. "I mean, yes -- or maybe? I'm don't know what I mean, sorry. I've never talked to an alien before."

"Ha! Relax," she smiled, showing powerful, carnivorous teeth. "Maybe later we could grab a drink. You look like you've got plenty of questions." She winked and flicked one of her spade-shaped ears at him.

Jack swallowed. The way she looked at him made his gaster tense. "I uh... I'll think about it."

The elevator door opened directly onto the bridge, and Jack's breath caught at the majesty of it. The spacious, circular room sported an array of control stations manned by uniformed officers. Dominating the forward section of the wall and extending to the ceiling was a massive dome-shaped window that looked out into space. He was inside a snowglobe where all the white flecks had escaped the container and floated off to form a sea of stars.

It was like a cinematic from a triple-A sci-fi game come to life.

A rather dapper man stood from a large char in the center of the room. "Captain on the bridge!"

"Thank you, Commander Miles," the captain said, taking the seat. Bu tapped an officer's shoulder and took their place in front of one of the control stations on the near wall. Cand-e guided Jack to an out-of-the-way space and stood beside him as he gawked at the scene unfolding around him.

The elevator's doors whooshed open again, and Jack couldn't believe who stepped onto the bridge.

"Camille?!"

Camille's eyes shot toward him. "Jack!" She was wearing her 21st century street clothes and, while she looked completely out of place on the bridge, she was a welcome glimpse of home. She hurried over to him and greeted him with a friendly hug. For a moment, he was so relieved to see a familiar face that he forgot entirely about the strangeness of the situation.

"Camille! God am I glad to see you," he whispered, careful not to disrupt the air of disciplined efficiency that permeated the room. "How long have you been here?"

"About twelve hours, the same as you."

At that moment, Jack remembered the significance of the weight hanging between his legs. His heart raced. Camille couldn't see him like this. He was a freak!

A concerned look crossed Camille's face. "They said you'd been involved in some sort of accident. Are you okay? You look pale."

Jack swallowed. "No no. I'm fine. A little woozy from the time travel, I guess."

He tried to slyly curl his insectoid abdomen up under his gown, casually widening his stance to make room for the throbbing mass. Camille noticed the motion.

"What the--" She took a step back and stared between his legs. Jack desperately clutched the gown and stretched it down, but it was no use. "What the hell is that?" she cried. Nearby officers turned to see what the commotion was about. Even if Camille hadn't raised her voice, Jack's heart was beating so loud he was sure the entire bridge could hear it.

"Oh this?" He lowered the undulating, grublike appendage into the open air. "It's just some alien that grabbed onto me and won't let go. The doctor said she might be able to remove--"

Camille made a face like a fly had flown into her open mouth. "Oh that's disgusting!"

Jack frowned. "Hey, that's not cool. Come on."

"Oh! I'm sorry," she apologized, speaking to the organ hanging between his legs. She kneeled down, and, before he could stop her, she grabbed his gaster gently in both hands and brought it up to her face. "I didn't mean to be offensive. I'm new here. I'm not used to seeing," she cleared her throat, "people like you."

The touch of his ex's fingers against the sensitive flesh of his new reproductive organ released a kaleidoscope of confusing emotions and sensations inside Jack's brain. anxiety, excitement, indignity, longing, lust. . . He felt the familiar chill of moisture forming at his gaster's opening.

Camille grimaced up at him. "Does it talk?"

"No."

"One piece of advice, little guy: get out while you're ahead. Jack can be pretty high maintenance--"

"Hey!" Jack stepped back, pulling his new organ from her hands. At this point, the bridge had gone silent, and all eyes were on them.

Camille stood and rolled her eyes. "I was trying to do you both a favor. Geeze."

Captain Sarr cut in. "That's enough, you two. There'll be plenty of time for reunions later. Right now, we have business to attend to. Hail the Salekk frigate. Main screen."

The dome window flickered briefly, and the view of the stars transitioned into a vast image. It took Jack a moment to make sense of the dark, shifting picture, but he soon realized it was a visual feed from an alien ship. Everything was coated with shades of shiny, shifting chitin. The walls themselves breathed and squirmed. There was a figure at the center of the scene, but all the movement and unnatural forms made it difficult to pinpoint where the ship ended and the insectoid creature began. A spike of adrenaline gripped Jack as his brain made the association between the picture on the screen and the alien that attacked him earlier.

"Captain Sarr," Boomed a buzzing voice. "It is good we have your attention. We were about to destroy your ship."

Jack gathered this was the alien speaking, though he couldn't imagine how its chittering mandibles formed the words.

"That won't be necessary," said the captain. "I believe we've found a reason for our current situation."

"Continue," rumbled the bug, impatiently.

She turned to Bu. "My chief engineer will explain."

"Right!" Bu said, clapping her paws together. "So here's the good news. It seems like both ships acted in good faith and attempted to teleport their representatives to the meeting spot, as we'd agreed. Problem is, it turns out that Salekk teleporters and Earth teleporters are incompatible. The beams crossed, formed a resonance field, and ripped a hole in space-time."

"Lies! You have slain our ambassador. You deceive us!"

Captain Sarr stood from her chair. "That's not true. We managed to rescue your 'ambassador' from the rift before it grew too unstable for the teleporters."

"Show her to us," growled the alien, "or suffer."

Captain Sarr turned to Jack and beckoned him over. He meekly made his way toward the center of the room, distinctly aware that all eyes were on him.

"Alright, Jack. Turn around and lift up that gown so he can get a good look."

"What!?" Jack yelped, "Right here in front of everyone?!"

"Please!" the captain hissed. "This is an extremely sensitive situation!"

Jack hesitated. The silence was unbearably tense. Everyone was waiting on him, even the alien. What choice did he have? He lifted the gown, giving the entire bridge a clear view of the pulsating, insectoid organ hanging between his legs. Camille stared with a queasy look on her face, and Jack looked anywhere but at her.

Captain Sarr continued. "She seems to have. . . merged with one of us."

"Ssss," churred the alien. "She has joined and become Vel. She has accomplished her mission. Give us this creature, and we will allow you to leave."

Jack spun around and yelped "What!? Me?"

"We can't do that," said the captain firmly. "We have as much claim to him as you do, and mentally, he's still human. We can't send him off to live on an alien ship!"

"Unfair, humans! We shared our information with you, yet you will not share your information with us!"

The captain stood. "Don't be ridiculous. We offered you our entire cultural database: You refused. Now you say you've shared with us, but we still know nothing about you."

The alien hissed angrily. "We have provided the information. It is not our fault if you humans are too stupid to absorb it. You will give us this joined Vel, or you will give us another human. Refuse and we will destroy your ship."

Captain Sarr sighed. "That's not much of an offer. Surely there's something else--"

"That is the offer," rumbled the alien. "Decide before the Vel lays their eggs."

Jack sneered "Eggs? I'm not laying any eggs!"

The Salekk made a clicking sound that sent chills down Jack's spine. "You will. You are Vel. It is the reproductive phase of my people. You will lay within ten days, and when the first clutch is finished, the next will begin. Already, your egg sack is showing the first signs of pregnancy."

"My egg sack!?" Jack cried. He looked down at the insectoid organ between his legs and felt a drop in his stomach that fell all the way to the tip of his egg sack. "You mean I'm pregnant?!"

"Ten days, huh?" mused the captain. "You'll hear from me before then. Captain Sarr out."

With that, the image faded, and the window to the stars returned. Captain Sarr slumped back into her chair, put her head in her hands and muttered to herself, quietly enough that Jack was sure he was the only one that heard her. "Why does someone always end up getting mutated and fucked? Every. Damn. Time."

Captain Sarr looked at Jack. "I suppose congratulations are in order, Mr. Tanner. You're going to be a mother."

Jack found himself mumbling. "But I--"

She raised a finger to interrupt him. "Spend the night gathering your thoughts. We'll speak tomorrow. Bu, show these people to their quarters."

Bu nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

She gathered Jack and Camille and led them to the elevator. The door closed behind them, and there was a pregnant pause. Finally, Camille spoke.

"I thought you looked positively glowing back there."

Jack groaned. "I don't want to hear it."

She chuckled. "It's funny. You not wanting kids was one of the reasons we broke up, and now here you are, pregnant."

"That was a long time ago. I'm not opposed to the idea anymore. Heck, I'd love to have some children of my own running around."

Camille raised an eyebrow.

"I didn't mean these. I mean, they're eggs, right? Not kids? I meant kids. Kids with you! Or children in general, I guess--" he sighed. "My point is I've changed since then. I'm still changing."

Camille rolled her eyes. "I'll say. Now you have an egg sack, for one."

"I was talking about my personality."

"I can't believe you let me touch it," she said with a shudder. "I was holding it, talking to your vagina in front of everyone, and you let it happen, you pervert! It's disgusting. I can't even look at you!"

The elevator stopped, and the group disembarked. Camille promptly headed down the hallway. Jack called after her, but she was gone. Bu led him in the opposite direction.

"So. She's kind of a bitch, isn't she?" she asked, her hyenine face all scrunched up.

Jack sighed. "No, she says stuff like that so I know how I can be better. Besides, she's going through a lot right now, what with the time travel, and me being pregnant. . ."

She huffed, "Uh-huh."

Bu gave Jack a brief tour, showing him how to use basic equipment like the map consoles and food synthesizers. Jack absorbed the information, but he felt like he wasn't really there, like he was watching it all on a TV screen that he'd soon switch off for the evening. It was all so surreal. He spent half the tour stealing glances at his alien guide, staring at the hypnotic swishing of her tufted tail, watching her beastial mouth form familiar, human words. It was only her cheery, casual demeanor that kept him grounded at all. She was disarming, and by the time they arrived at his quarters, he found himself enjoying her company.

His was a small, private chamber meant for temporary residence, and what little floor room there was was mostly taken up by his and Camille's baggage, which the crew had apparently managed to recover. Bu explained how to contact her if he needed anything, said her goodbyes, and left him to his thoughts.

He stood still in the silence of his room. It was just him, but he didn't feel alone. The Salekk that had chased him through the hangar was still with him, now nothing more than a bloated alien organ and an occasional intrusive sexual thought. Maybe more than occasional. He'd let a stranger finger-fuck him, and even the brief touch from Camille thrilled him and left him wanting more. She called him a pervert. Was he? Was he a pregnant pervert?

He shuddered and tried to put the thought of his gaster out of his mind. The porthole window provided some distraction. He pressed his face to the glass and stared into a nebula of brilliant blinking stars and inky black pockets, waiting for his whirlwind of thoughts and emotions to die down. Eventually, his baser needs began to reassert themselves. Hunger and tiredness and sweet, refreshing boredom cleared his mind, but it was his bladder that finally pried him away from the window.

There was no ignoring the egg sack. It made using the toilet into a puzzle. Straining his abdomen forward between his legs prevented him from relaxing his bladder, and positioning it over the bowl with his hands was a clumsy affair that resulted in him accidentally dunking its sensitive tip into the water. He finally settled on facing away from the toilet, lowering the seat, and resting his egg sack on its edge. Sweet relief.

He sat on the bed,curled his gaster up between his legs, and stared his pussy in the face. His pussy. The organ was heavy in his hands, and it would only get heavier. He pictured it swelling with eggs and shuddered at the thought. Hopefully the doctor would be able to remove the creature before it got too large.

As the hour grew late, the lights of the room gradually dimmed and yellowed, simulating a sunset. Exhausted, he collapsed into his bed and fell into a deep sleep, blissfully unaware of the terrible surprises that the morning had in store for him.

[COMMERCIAL BREAK 1]

"Good morning, Jack Tanner," chimed the soothing voice of the computer. "Chief Engineer Bu will be picking you up from your quarters in thirty minutes."

Jack groggily wiped the sleep from his eyes. He reached between his legs to scratch his balls, but when his hand encountered nothing but smooth insectoid plates, his eyes shot open. Dreams that were mundane and subdued faded and gave way to the fantastic and bizarre memories of the day before. He groaned and withdrew his hand from his featureless groin.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, stood, and stepped forward, dragging his abdomen off the bed behind him, and the sheet with it. It swung forward and slapped the back of his knees, almost sending him to the floor. To his dismay, his gaster was heavier than he remembered, and noticeably bloated. He waddled to the bathroom and took a shower. The running water did a great job of soothing his nerves--

Until he noticed all the hair running down the drain.

He leapt out and toweled himself off. More body hair came off as he rubbed himself dry. Leg hair, chest hair, armpit hair, the only hair on his body that remained was the stuff on the top of his head. The face in the mirror showed no sign of morning stubble. He stroked his fingers over the skin and shuddered.

He was beyond hairless. His skin was perfectly smooth, seemingly bereft of follicles and pores and everything that gave human flesh its subtle texture.

Jack scrambled to his room's control panel, and called Cand-e. She was at his door in less than a minute, looking as sexy as ever and holding a small, white bag with a red cross on it. He thanked her for coming on such short notice.

"It's no problem at all. I do love it when my patients invite me to their quarters and show a little extra skin." She winked as she entered the room. "Take a seat on the bed. Let's have a look at you."

As he struggled to find a sitting position that didn't pinch his gaster, Cand-e opened up her bag and withdrew a device that looked like a small, featureless dildo.

"Oh, um maybe you misunderstood," he said, "I didn't call you here for that. I mean, it's not that I didn't enjoy myself yesterday. I did, but there's something wrong with my skin, and my hair is falling out--"

Cand-e giggled. "Someone's mind is in the gutter this morning. This is a medical scanner, silly."

Jack blushed. "Ah."

She twisted the base of the scanner, and it buzzed to life, just like a vibrator. She slid it up and down his body, looking focused and giving the occasional thoughtful "hmm." The touch tickled intensely, especially against his gaster, where she lingered for a few extra seconds.

"Well, well. It appears congratulations are in order. You are, indeed, pregnant."

Jack's stomach sank. "Are you sure?"

Cand-e smiled. "Absolutely. Your gaster is two and a half kilograms heavier than it was yesterday, and most of that weight comes from the eggs. You're carrying around quite a few. Would you like to know how many?"

"No!" Jack swallowed. "I mean, no. Sorry, I don't want to think about it. Besides, you're going to be able to remove it before they're. . . ready, right?"

Cand-e's smile faded. "I'm afraid that brings us back to your sudden pro-bono waxing. It appears that the Salekk organ isn't finished integrating itself into your system. It's enriching your blood with some sort of mutagenic compound that's changing you on a genetic level. The loss of your body hair, the disappearance of your pores. . . these are the first visible signs of the effect it's having on you. I can't even begin to design a separation procedure until your metamorphosis is complete."

"Metamorphosis!? I'm not turning into one of those bug things, am I?"

"No! Of course not. At least, I don't think so? The swelling of your nipples and breast tissue seem to indicate that you'll be keeping some mammalian features."

"Breast tissue?" Jack stared down at his chest. He had noticed that his nipples looked especially prominent this morning, but he'd chalked it up to not having any chest hair covering them. He tentatively pinched one and flinched at its unexpected tenderness. It throbbed and hardened in response, swelling larger than a male nipple had any business being.

He asked Cand-e a litany of questions, but she didn't have any answers. She reassured him that she would study the data she gathered during the scan and let him know as soon as she had any more information.

"Give me a call if you need my services," she said, standing. "Any of my services."

She turned and was out the door before she had a chance to see Jack blush.

Bu was due to pick him up any minute. Not wanting to answer the door naked, he opened up his luggage and pulled out one of his hoodies. None of his pants would fit, so he wrapped the bedsheet around his waist like a makeshift skirt.

When the upbeat hyena arrived, the first thing he did was ask her how to get a new outfit. She tilted her head.

"I suppose. . . We should have just enough time before our meeting with the captain."

She led Jack down a new set of corridors. A lot more people glanced at the bulge in the back of his sheet, now that there was no red alert distracting them. He steeled his nerves and soldiered on, telling himself it would only be for a few more minutes before he was properly covered. Bu noticed his discomfort and smirked.

"Someone told me humans from your era were super uncomfortable about sex. Said you guys didn't even like to show your ankles off."

"No, nothing like that. That was a couple hundred years before me. We were pretty chill."

Bu looked thoughtful. "Is that so? Why don't you lose the sheet, then? No one would stop you, and it's probably a lot more comfortable."

"Uh. . . I don't think so."

She snorted. "That's what I thought. I'll never understand humanity's obsession with modesty. My people, the Coba, are nudists. We wear armor and camouflage during war, and that's it. Covering yourself is considered rude, suspicious, or even hostile."

Jack examined the skimpy bathing suit of an outfit the hyena was wearing. "If that's true, why aren't you naked right now?"

Bu sighed. "It's an Earth Empire thing. All officers have to wear a uniform that covers their 'privates.' This is the most minimal outfit they offer."

"Well it certainly doesn't leave much to the imagination."

Bu smiled. "You think so? Ah, you're such a sweetie. Thanks."

They arrived at one of the ship's Autotailors. Bu tapped a button on the side, and a human-sized, cylindrical chamber opened up.

"Step onto the scanner so the machine can take your measurements."

Jack stepped inside. No sooner had a beam of light swept over his body than Bu was swiping through menus on the display cooing and snorting at previews of potential outfits. He moved to look, but she blocked his view.

"I want to see!"

"Nonsense," she chuckled, making a selection. "I know more about modern fashion than you. Trust me, you'll love it."

A pile of folded clothes flopped onto the dispenser platform. Jack grabbed the bundle and ducked into the dressing chamber. The elastic top was easy enough to figure out, but it took him a moment to figure out that the fasteners for his pants were in the rear, leaving an adjustable hole for his abdomen to poke through. He marveled at how perfect the fit was. It maintained his flexibility while resting flush against his skin. To his dismay, the crotch area tight enough that he could see the imprint of his chitinous plates. If he'd still had a penis, there wouldn't have been any room for it.

He glanced in the mirror and had mixed feelings. The tight outfit made his body look slender. The cut was elegant and the muted green-blue tones were equally aesthetically pleasing. But the tightness of his crotch embarrassed him, and it left his gaster even more uncovered than before.

Jack poked his head out of the dressing chamber. "I think I forgot to grab the piece that covers up my. . . butt thing."

"Let's have a look at you," Bu said, grasping his hand and coaxing him into the open. "It looks good on you! Very handsome."

"But my--"

"I see it like this: If you put a sock over that thing, people will think it's something to be ashamed of. Wear it out, and you show strength and confidence."

"Well I don't want people looking at it," Jack said, ducking back into the changing room. He draped the sheet he'd brought over his egg sack, and stuffed the extra fabric into the back of his pants to keep it in place. He gave one last tug and heard a riiip as the two spindles at the end of his gaster poked through the sheet. Now the outline of his vulva was clear against the thin fabric, but it was better than nothing.

As they made their way to the meeting, several crewmen gawked at Jack, furrowed their brows, and whispered amongst themselves. Jack blushed. It seemed like just as many people were looking, but now they had a mystery to talk about. A small part of him found the fact that they were whispering about his sex organs thrilling, but he pushed those feelings down.

Captain Sarr's ready room was right next to the bridge. It had the look of a sophisticated, private office. Antique african masks gazed from the walls over a small collection of model spacecraft that seemed to represent different periods in history. A large aquarium built into the wall behind the captain's chair doubled as the room's window. A lionfish drifted through the stars like a massive interstellar serpent.

The captain greeted them warmly and invited them to take a seat. Camille, who was already present, did her best to ignore Jack as he sat next to her. Captain Sarr ignored the tension in the room and got straight to business.

"We think we may have found a way to get you two back to the year 2019."

Camille and Jack snapped to attention.

"How?" asked Camille. "What do we have to do?"

Bu explained. "As you know, The Salekk's teleporter interfered with our own and ripped a hole in space-time. As soon as we noticed the problem, we reversed our beam and tried to recover our man. Unfortunately, we ended up grabbing you two instead. That was my B. And, uh, I'd like to apologize.

"I was surprised because holes like that usually close themselves up in a couple nanoseconds, but then I realized that our teleporter beam was stabilizing the tear. I stopped trying to grab things from the other side, but I kept the beam engaged. It's still open right now."

"All we need to do," said the captain, "is get you two into a lifeboat and send you back through the rift to your own time."

Camille gripped her chair in excitement. "That's great!"

"There's one catch," the captain said flatly. "We need to send you over in a spacecraft. Even our lifeboats are extremely expensive, and I'm not sending another pilot on a one-way trip to the past."

Jack furrowed his brow. "Another?"

The captain nodded. "That's right. The representative we attempted to send to the Salekk ship was one of my best pilots. We're considering him a lost cause."

Everyone was silent. Then Jack spoke.

"I could fly the ship."

Camille rolled her eyes. "Shut up, Jack. They need a real space pilot."

"I'm serious! I've clocked thousands of hours in spaceflight simulators. How different could it be? I could learn."

Captain Sarr gazed thoughtfully out of her aquarium window. "I suppose we could train you. It should be a straightforward flight. . ."

Just then, there was a loud rumble and the ship shook slightly. Again, the captain didn't flinch.

"Another warning shot," she explained, "just the Salekk reminding us that they're waiting. Until we get this political situation figured out, they'll no doubt fire on any lifeboats we launch. They claim they've already shared information with us, and they seem to be referring to you, Jack. Can you offer us any insight? Maybe they implanted knowledge in your brain. Think hard. Do you know anything about them?"

Jack squinted his eyes and searched his memories, but the only forthcoming moments were ones where he made some horrible social faux pas. That was normal.

"Sorry. There's nothing."

"Well we have nine days left to solve the mystery. Bu, do you think you could keep the teleporter engaged for that long?"

"Maybe. It would take a lot of work. We're already setting a record for the longest engaged beam. Parts will burn out, need to be replaced. . . But I think it's possible."

"Well then, Mr. Tanner, I'd like to get you into the flight training as soon as possible. I'll have have Ensign Lauren pick you up for your first lesson."

Bu cut in. "Ma'am I'd like permission to oversee Mr. Tanner's flight training. I've been his point of contact so far, no reason to change that now."

Captain Sarr nodded. "Very well, but keeping that anomaly open is your top priority. Understood?"

"Yes Ma'am."

The meeting was dismissed. Camille wished Jack luck, but didn't stick around to chat. Normally her aloof attitude would send his mind spiralling into a self-conscious rabbit hole, but he was too excited about what was coming next to care. He was going to learn to fly a spaceship!

He briskly followed Bu to flight school, asking a million questions a minute. He had grand visions of blasting out into the cosmos, dodging asteroids, and slingshotting off of gravitational fields, but when he arrived, he found himself in a room that looked more like a science lab than a docking bay.

"Where are the spaceships?" he asked.

"Woah there, hot shot," Bu chuckled. "You're not ready for the real deal just yet. There's a training program you need to complete first."

"Oh." Jack frowned as she led him to a small chamber. Inside, there was a replica of what he assumed was a lifeboat's cockpit. There were dozens of switches and dials, a control stick not unlike the one he'd learned to fly with back on earth, and vast plates of dark glass that he recognized as powered-down control panels. In the center of it all was a swiveling pilot's chair not unlike the captain's chair on the bridge.

He reached out a trembling hand and touched the chair.

"Go ahead," Bu said. "Take a seat."

He moved to sit in the chair, but, of course, he had to deal with his gaster once again. First he tried spreading his legs so it could rest in front of him, but that meant he had to lean way back and raise his feet. He tried sitting forward with the organ behind him, but he had to sit on the edge of the seat, and his gaster was uncomfortably squeezed between him and the backrest. He must have looked ridiculous.

Bu gave an amused huff and kneeled next to him. "Here, let me help." Without warning, she grasped his hand and guided it under the chair. Jack was surprised by the sudden contact, but she was gentle. Her hands felt strange around his with their short fingers, blunt claws, and raised pads. She pressed his finger against a button hidden under the seat and the backrest started to recline. It lowered much further than any chair Jack had seen, past 180 degrees until it was angled toward the ground.

"That should be better," Bu said, letting go of his hand. She then reached behind him, carefully wrapped her arms around his gaster, and shifted it into position. The touch sent a shiver of pleasure into Jack's belly. Did she realize she was handling his sex organ? Either way, the pressure felt heavenly. He shut his eyes and took a shuddering breath as she changed her grip and made some final adjustments.

"How's that?" she asked.

"Good," he said, as the familiar chill of moisture grew in his opening. "Maybe a little to the left?"

Bu shrugged and obliged, gently pressing on his gaster. Her paw lingered for a second longer than it had to.

"This is a wonderful piece of equipment."

Jack blushed. "That's what Cand-e said, but I'm still not used to--" he turned and noticed Bu looking around the cockpit. "Oh yeah, the simulator. Right. I'm sure it is."

"I'll be working right outside if you need anything, but the program should be able to answer most of your questions."

Jack thanked Bu for her help. As she left, he caught himself staring at her shapely ass until the door closed behind it. He took a moment to take a few deep breaths and center himself before starting the training program.

His excitement at the prospect of learning to fly a spaceship returned, but it was short lived. He was used to video game flight simulators, and the training program's pace was too slow. It introduced him to a few buttons and concepts at a time, never challenging him, never throwing him into the deep end and letting him fail.

Jack's mind began to wander. His pussy was still wet from the brief contact with Bu. He tried to stay focused on the training program, but lusty fantasies crept into the gaps between each deliberate thought.

By the time the session was over, his mind was so consumed with thoughts of sex that he'd failed the last lesson three times. Though the fact that each of his ship's "explosions" was accompanied by a rumbling vibration that sent a tingle of pleasure pulsing through his posterior didn't exactly inspire him to try very hard.

He stood up, glanced around the simulator, and groaned at what he found. The back of his chair glistened with lubricant from his oversized sex. The sheet he'd used as a makeshift gaster cover was soaked in his juices, forming a big dark patch over the mound of his pussy that dripped sticky strands of lubricant. Cursing under his breath, Jack frantically tried to wipe the seat clean with his sleeve, but all he managed to do was spread a shiny slick of lubricant onto his outfit.

He opened the door to find Bu standing on the other side.

"There you are! Thought you might have gotten stuck. How was it?"

Jack swallowed and edged past her, muttering something about how great it was and oh, the chamber could use a little cleaning. Bu looked confused, but before she had a chance to ask him anything he was out the door, racing toward his quarters.

Back in his room, Jack paced to and fro nervously stewing in the embarrassment of the mess he'd made. He paced and paced until his foot slipped on a wet spot, and he nearly fell. More lubricant. This was getting ridiculous. What was going on back there?

He sighed and laid on his bed. He spread his legs, curled his egg sack up to his stomach, and pulled off the sopping wet sheet, giving himself a clear view of the fleshy folds of his opening.

Jesus, I really do have a vagina, Jack thought, staring down at his alien pussy. It was a lot larger than a normal, human vulva, but there was no mistaking the shape. Swollen inner-labia peeked between a pair of plump outer lips, making an inviting, vulgar target that protruded from the rest of his egg sack. The bizarre sight thrilled him, and he twiched his nethers, sending a few drops of moisture pattering onto his chest.

He reached a tentative finger down and touched the opening, but the spindles on either side of his opening twitched. He jumped at the sudden motion and immediately felt silly about it, considering the little limbs were under his complete control. He touched it again, flexed it against his grip, and slid his palm down its length to meet the rubbery lips of his sex. They were sensitive, but a light touch felt wonderful. He rubbed them, pinched them, stroked them. His fingertips traced around the plump folds and dipped inside.

Any reservations that he might have had were soon consumed by the ecstacy of playing with his pussy. One finger was joined by others, and before long he was all-out masturbating. His legs kicked the sheets, as he the room was filled with the sound of shaking breaths and the wet slicking of his fingers pumping in and out of his pussy.

He came quickly, but it wasn't enough. A single orgasm-- even a gasping, moaning, eyes-rolling-into-the-back-of-his-head orgasm-- did little to dispel the fog of lust that consumed his brain. It was only after an hour of constant self-pleasure that he started to feel himself again. He found himself lying panting on the sweaty sheets, hand wrist-deep in his sex. He relaxed his gaster, and it flopped onto the bed between his legs, spent. His hand came free with a audible slurp.

The post-orgasm shame rose inside of him again, but instead of pushing it down, this time he faced it. There's no reason to be ashamed, he told himself. It's my body, and I'll enjoy it if I want to.

[COMMERCIAL BREAK 2]

The next morning, his egg sack was definitely bigger.

It waved and wobbled heavily on the way to the mirror, having undergone another growth spurt as he slept. It hung well past his knees and pressed against the cold wall behind him as he leaned over to wash his face. The connective base of the organ had grown to hold the extra weight. His pelvis had widened to accommodate the extra girth, a fact that he only noticed after he relaxed his arms and found they rested against his expanded hips.

While running a hand along the cursed connection, he noticed that the skin of his back had darkened and taken on a tough, leathery texture. His stomach remained delicately smooth and grown pale to match the soft underbelly of his gaster. To his dismay, this only served to highlight his nipples, which had darkened to a deep burgundy and grown once again. They stood erect in the cold air like little fingertips, pushing out of the expanded pools of his areola. A small cusion of newly-formed breast tissue exacerbated the issue.

The garment reprocessor did an excellent job removing the shameful dried femcum from his outfit. He pulled it over his increasingly androgynous body and found that its fit was no longer perfect. Today it was tight against his hips and thighs and loose around his shoulders and arms.

He ate a quick breakfast and headed out to flight school, keenly aware of the little bumps his nipples made on his outfit's satin-smooth fabric. He opted to leave his makeshift gaster covering behind in the hope that keeping his pussy exposed to the air would help his moisture problem. People stole furtive glances at his uncovered gaster, and he was sure others turned their heads to stare once they were behind him. Jack blushed, but a growing part of him was excited that people were looking at his exposed privates.

Bu greeted him and looked him over, eyes lingering a little too long for his liking on his egg sack and chest. She didn't mention his changes, just made some small talk and set him up in the flight sim the same as yesterday.

The program was as boring as yesterday, and he was relieved when it paused for lunch. The mess hall was serving roasted mushrooms that afternoon, and it smelled fantastic. But his excitement flipped to dread when he noticed Camille sitting nearby with a group of petty officers. His heart raced, and the adrenaline caused his nipples to harden and rub against his top. To his horror, she spotted him, rose, and approached with a smile on her face.

"Jack! There you are. Am I glad to see you."

"Hey Camille," he said, trying to raise his tray to block her view of his budding breasts. "What are you doing here?"

"They told me this was the closest cafeteria to where you were working. I wanted bump into you." She squited at his face. "You look pale. Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah. The doctor says I'm going to go through all sorts of changes before they can get this dumb thing off of me." He curled his egg sack back and lifted it so at least the lewd opening was hidden.

"I see. Listen Jack," she said, placing a hard on his shoulder and guiding him away from the crowd. "I'm sorry about what I said the other day. It was rude to make fun of you like that, especially considering how crazy things have been. I was really stressed and decided to take it out on you."

"Oh. Thanks, Camille. That means a lot to hear."

She looked into his eyes and smiled a kind and genuine smile that, Jack thought, seemed unlike her. "No problem. Honestly, I've been having trouble fitting in myself. Did you know, these guys learn calculus when they're six years old? I feel like a cavewoman."

"It must be hard not being smarter than anyone for once."

"That's why I wanted to see you," she chuckled. "Nah, I'm just kidding. Us girls from the past gotta stick together, don't we?"

Jack looked askance at her. "Sure, but I'm still a man, you know."

"I thought you were pregnant."

"Well I am but--"

"And the cut of those pants," she glanced at the tight fabric between his legs, "seems to confirm the matter."

Jack raised his chin and looked down his nose at her. "Alright. Maybe, technically, I am a female now." Camille raised her eyebrows. "But mentally, I'm still a man, and I'd like to be referred to as such."

"I see. So is that thing between your legs is a part of you? And it's some sort of. . . sexual organ? What's it like?"

Jack blushed and scratched the back of his head. "Yeah, it's part of me, my new-- temporary-- reproductive system. It's always hanging back there, getting in the way."

Camille leaned to the side and peered behind him. Jack turned to block her view of its opening, but it was too late.

"Looks pretty, uh, feminine to me, Jack."

His cheeks burned so hot, they felt like they might combust. "Yeah. . ."

Camille smiled wolfishly and looked into his eyes. "I am curious -- strictly for the sake of science-- is masturbation better as a man or a woman?"

"What!?"

"Oh, come on. Who could resist giving the other side's junk a test drive?" She winked.

Jack gave an embarrassed tight-lipped smile and looked at the floor. Camille's interest dropped a tingling tickle from his stomach into his egg sack below. "Well. . . it's a little early to come to any sort of conclusion. . ."

Camille's eyes went wide. "No way. You didn't."

He gave a tentative nod.

"Already!? It hasn't even been 48 hours!"

Jack was taken aback. "But you said--"

"It was a joke you pervert! Jeeze. I didn't expect you'd actually done it. But if anyone would, I guess it'd be you."

Jack frowned and turned to leave, but she caught his arm.

"Hey, hey. I'm sorry. I was just making a joke. Sorry. Really. You've got nothing to be ashamed about."

Jack sighed. "Could you stop being like that?"

"I will. From this second forward I will be nothing but supportive and positive."

"You promise?"

"I promise. Now come on. No one deserves to be lonely when they're pregnant."

Camille guided Jack back to her table and introduced him to her new friends. Conversation came easily, and Jack soon relaxed. True to her word, she didn't crack another joke about his condition. The officers were kind, inviting, and, for a while, he felt completely normal.

After lunch, Jack finished up his flight training and headed to the medical bay for his appointment with Cand-e. To his disappointment, she did little other than confirm that he was healthy and reassure him that the disturbing and dramatic changes in his body were nothing to be concerned about.

"All pregnancies come with changes. Yours are simply more. . . extensive."

This sequence of waking up, checking the mirror for changes, spending the day in flight training, and visiting Cand-e in the evening formed Jack's daily routine aboard the Catalyst.

He tried to ignore his metamorphosis as much as he could, but on the morning of the fourth day he finally caved and made another visit to the autotailor. His old outfit hung loosely around his increasingly feminine arms and shoulders and stretched taught around his widening hips and swollen butt. He'd lost two inches of height, and looking in the mirror, he couldn't shake the impression that he looked like a woman who was wearing her boyfriend's clothes. In this world where everyone's outfits were immaculately tailored, he stuck out like a sore thumb.

Each step caused a symphony of unwelcome jiggling, from his modest breasts, from his plump ass cheeks, and most of all from the increasingly swollen eggsack that followed him everywhere he went. His loss of height conspired with the swelling of the sack, bringing it closer and closer to the ground each day. Now, if he wasn't careful, his spindles would occasionally brush against the floor.

This time he visited the autotailor alone. He didn't want Bu or anyone else to see him like this, wearing an outfit where each extra fold and misplaced stretch served to highlight how far he'd changed. Scanning himself for the new measurements was easy enough, but using the outfit customizer was trickier than he expected. All the preset suggestions were form-fitting, revealing, feminine ensambles that left his bulging, vulgar egg sack hanging out in the open air. Any customizations beyond a simple color change sent him into menus where he drowned in options and virtual tools. He tried to program a covering for his gaster, but it looked awful. He wasn't exactly a fashion expert.

"I'd kill for a bathrobe," he muttered as a small, increasingly impatient line formed behind him.

The man behind him sighed and gave up waiting. The next person asked him if he needed any help.

"No, no I've got it," Jack groaned, selecting one of the presets.

He grabbed the clothes from the output chute and rushed into the changing room. It was immediately obvious that the outfit was designed for a woman. Embedded wires in the chest supported and accentuated the breasts he'd hoped to hide, and the vertical stripes of color were clearly designed to make his waist look even narrower than it already was. A pair of slits left his slight, pale shoulders completely exposed, and an extra flap of fabric formed a sort of mini-skirt that his gaster lifted to reveal the ever-plumper curves of his ass. He couldn't believe this was the most conservative option available.

He tossed his old outfit into the recycler and headed to flight school, relieved at least that people wouldn't stare at him now that his clothes actually fit. He quickly found out the opposite was true. Suddenly everyone seemed to be staring at him, especially the ship's men. Their eyes crawled over him like a thousand invisible hands, always drifting down as if pulled by gravity, down to his chest, down to his hips, down to the bulge of the sack between his legs and the exposed, giant pussy at its tip.

Intrusive thoughts leapt into Jack's mind quicker than he could bat them away. What would happen if he turned and talked to one of the men? How far could their curiosity take them? He shook his head and focused on getting to flight school. Every day the sexual thoughts got more insistant. He could hardly hold a conversation with Camille or Cand-e without indulging in a lingering glance at their cleavage, the swell of their breasts, the curve of their hips.

The flight simulator was too easy to hold his attention. There was no difficulty slider, but he managed to make it more challenging by changing his user profile to a species with superhuman reflexes. Even so, he took one of his customary mid-afternoon break from his flight training to finger-fuck himself in the restroom. The body-shaking, toe-curling, egg sack-tensing climaxes were enough to wash away the shame. Almost.

Jack dreaded seeing Camille at dinner that night. True to her word, she hadn't made fun of him a single time since their talk, but that didn't stop her from mentioning each of his body's daily changes. She immediately brought up his new outfit, saying it was "striking" and an "interesting choice." The other female officers called it "cute." They all meant well, but he wished he could disappear.

Despite the stress she sometimes brought, Jack spent each dinner with Camille. They were often joined by a crowd of officers, cadets, and other passengers all eager to hear about their time and culture. Camille did most of the talking while Jack sat back chewing his food. He liked it that way. Too much talking led people to asking about him, which led to uncomfortable questions. "What is it like to be a girl?" "What are you going to name the children?" Better to stay quiet.

While he certainly got his fill of conversation at dinner, he found that satisfying his hunger was more difficult. He started visiting the mess halls on off hours, getting second servings and snacking, oftentimes on strange foods that he'd never liked before. Each day he carried a bag of raw mushrooms back from lunch as a snack for the second half of flight school. Steak became a favorite bedtime indulgence. He started having it medium, then medium-rare, then rare, and soon extra-rare.

He spent the rest of his free time exploring the ship, wandering from deck to deck, visiting the other mess halls and marveling at all the strange faces, creatures, and incredible technology. Bu gave him a tour of the engine rooms, and even showed him the main reactor.

He enjoyed spending time with Bu. She was fascinating to talk to, and even to watch: a real life alien, and a friendly one at that. No time was her alien-ness more apparent than when she stared into the engines or got absorbed in her work, when her wide-muscled muzzle would relax, go blank, and she lost that spark of intelligence and humanity. But always when he said her name, she would turn and smile and the spark and warmth would return.

But as the days passed, her demeanor changed. She had less free time to show him around the ship, she made fewer jokes, and he often caught her yawning and resting her eyes. When he asked her about it, she admitted that she'd been losing sleep trying to keep the temporal rift open.

"It's a lot of work keeping the teleporter beam engaged like this," she said with a weak smile.

Then there was an impact. The ship shook with a rumble.

"Especially with those damn bugs firing warning shots at us!" she shouted to the ceiling. "But don't worry, you can count on me."

One night, Jack found himself up late, wandering the obscure, untrafficked halls of the Catalyst. He wanted to sleep, but he was afraid to wake up, afraid of what changes he'd find when he rolled out of bed. It was his sixth night aboard the ship, four days until his due date. He had visited the autotailor two days ago, but his new outfit was already straining at the hips and painfully constricting his breasts. He'd have to go again in the morning.

He ended up in the Aft Lodge, the smaller of the ship's two lounges. It was positioned above the primary thrusters, ensuring it was always few degrees warmer than the rest of the ship. The lights were kept low, with most of the light provided by a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows that gave a spectacular view of the ship's whirling, fiery exhaust streams. Jack pulled up a stool-- even the chairs designed to accommodate species with tails no longer fit his bulging, growing egg sack-- took a seat, and stared into the expanse, sipping an herbal tea from a glass mug.

He caught a glimpse of his reflection in the bottom of his mug. That morning he'd jumped at the sight of a stranger in his room, but soon realized it was his own reflection. His face had been changing so slowly, he hadn't realized it until he didn't recognize it anymore. Like the rest of him, it had grown more feminine, softer, with a smaller nose and weaker jawline. His eyes were large and round, giving him a doe-like look that was only enhanced by dark irises that eclipsed the whites of his eyes.

But despite its changes, his face would have still passed as human if it weren't for the pair of antennae that were growing from his forehead. Yesterday he'd discovered them as small nubs, but now they were large enough to make out in the distorted reflection at the bottom of his glass. They sharpened his sense of smell to the point where old scents became unfamiliar and new. He could distinguish each ingredient in the tea he was sipping, but there was another smell growing. Something. . . masculine.

"Beautiful view isn't it?"

Jack was startled by the baritone voice. It belonged to a male ensign who stood close by, also staring out the window.

"Yes," Jack said, curtly. He didn't want to be rude, but I hated hearing his new voice. It was a high-pitched girlish sound with a buzzing vocal fry that no amount of clearing his throat seemed to shake.

"My name's Matias. Mind if I sit with you?"

Jack didn't recognize him. He must have been on another shift. "I'm Jack. And sure, I could use the company."

The two spoke easily to one another. Jack quickly realized that Matias had no idea who he was, where he was from, what had happened to him, and he kept it that way. It was refreshing to be treated like a normal person. He slipped up only once.

"So what species are you?"

"Human," answered Jack.

Matias squinted his eyes for a moment. "Oh, you identify as human. I see. Well, if I might be so bold, you have the nicest abdomen of any human I've ever met."

Jack smiled, equal parts relieved and warmed by the compliment. Matias was good looking and quick witted, and he laughed at all his jokes. He was interested in Jack, but careful not to pry. He made eye contact and listened. He complimented earnestly without flattering. Jack got another tea, Matias had the same. They sat and gazed into the silent inferno clouds together.

The conversation turned to relationships; they were both single. Then to love and sex.

"So that bit at the end of your egg sack," he asked, "is that your. . ."

Jack nodded sheepishly. "Yeah."

"Wow, you let it all hang out, huh? Good for you. That takes confidence."

Jack's heart swelled. "Thanks. People don't seem to mind all that much around here."

Matias leaned in and lowered his voice. "It really is. . . substantial. I bet it's hard to find a guy who can satisfy you."

Jack chuckled. "I've never really had that problem before."

"Is that so? Well, if you're interested, maybe one of these nights you could pay my quarters a visit and see how I stack up to the competition." He winked.

"You. . . what?" Jack's mouth dropped open. "You're coming on to me?!"

"Why not? We're both single, and I think we get along okay."

"Absolutely not!" Jack cried, standing up. It threw the whole night into question. Was his kindness nothing but a plot to get into his pants? Matias must have been thinking of him as a woman this whole time. Of course, he chastised himself, how could I be so blind?

"Wait!" Matias called after him, "I'm sorry!" But Jack was gone.

He paced his quarters in a huff. He was upset at himself for misreading the situation, but another part, that nagging ever-growing libido of his, started to question how far it could have gone. What if he had said yes? What if he had followed Matias back to his quarters? He seemed like a nice enough person, and he was awfully handsome. . .

Jack caught himself. What was he thinking? He wasn't attracted to men. Even tall men like Matias, even men whose muscles bulged visibly in the arms of their uniforms. He probably had a small dick anyway-- not that Jack cared. Then again, he had seemed confident, even after seeing the size size of his pussy. Maybe he he was hiding a massive dick in those tight-fitting pants of his. Jack chided himself for not looking.

What was he thinking? Then again, what was the harm in thinking? His pussy was slickening with his natural juices at the thought of pulling Matias's pants down past his toned ass, revealing his fat and floppy dick, watching it swell at the thought of plunging it into his sloppy eager opening. As he fantasized, the spindley little limbs at the end of his gaster massaged his pussy absently.

Jack laid in his bed, pulled his egg sack up onto his stomach, and slipped two of his fingers into his pussy. This was his favorite position for masturbating, and he was suddenly hornier than he'd been in days. He pictured Matias's dick swelling to nearly inhuman proportions and pushed another pair of fingers between his slick folds. Now that he didn't have a penis, it had been a week since he'd seen one. Now the thought was exotic. That made it all the better.

Jack orgasmed quickly. He usually had three or four before he was satisfied, but that night he had six. He broke barriers that night. He craned his neck and lapped at his pussy with his tongue. It smelled like damp earth and crickets, but he didn't mind. He was insatiable, and when he did finally get to sleep, he slept like a rock.

The next day he was late to flight school. He told Bu there was a long line at the autotailor. She accepted his explanation but clearly didn't believe him. No matter.

His latest outfit was even more feminine than the last. This one's leggings reached his knees but left his smooth, curvaceous thighs uncovered. The wiring lifted his breasts and had a plunging neckline that left a hint of cleavage exposed. He felt naked with so much of his pale, insectoid skin showing, but he liked it. Each time a man's eyes lingered on him, he felt a rush.

Bu squinted at him. "You look like you're trying to attract a mate."

"What!?" Jack cried. "Don't be ridiculous. I picked this outfit on accident." That was a lie; he'd chosen it because he thought he looked sexy in the preview image.

"If you say so." Bu smiled and rubbed the sleep from her eye. "I gotta say, I'm impressed. According to the simulator logs, you're ready to make the flight into the rift."

His heart leapt. "I am?"

"Sure, as soon as the captain figures out how to calm those damn Salekk down. I wish she'd hurry; I'm running myself ragged trying to keep this damn teleporter beam running. "

Despite his 'being ready,' Bu said there was no harm in more practice, so his training continued. Not that he learned much; he was hornier than he had ever been before, and it was extremely distracting. No matter how many times he excused himself to the bathroom to take care of things, he couldn't satisfy himself.

That evening he told Cand-e about his out of control libido, his encounter with Matias, and his apparent shift to bisexuality.

"The explanation is quite simple, really" She said, resting one hand on her cheek and crossing the other under her breasts suggestively. "Your pussy is hungry for dick."

Jack shook his head. "Excuse me?"

"Well more accurately it's hungry for semen. The development of your eggs requires a direct application of novel genetic material. Your egg sack is flooding your brain with libido-enhancing hormones to compel you to get laid."

"Are you saying I'm going to have to get a man to fuck me before I can give birth?"

"That is usually how it works," Cand-e said with a wink. "I think it's a great idea. It would be fun and healthy. And as long as you've got the goods, you might as well use them."

Jack looked at the ground. "Oh god."

Cand-e snickered. "Here's an option I think you'll like more: have you had the chance to try out one of our SPUNK chambers?"

"One of your what?"

"A Simulation Pavillion Utilizing Neutron Kinetics-- commonly referred to as a SPUNK-- is a full-body holographic simulation chamber. Extremely cutting edge. You could use it to create a virtual partner."

"You're telling me I can fuck a computer program? That's crazy."

Cand-e smiled as she ran her scanner over his egg sack. "It's not that crazy. I fucked you, and I'm a computer program."

"You are? Like a hologram or something?"

Cand-e rolled her eyes. "A holographic doctor? What a silly idea. No, I'm a lifelike android with artificial intelligence."

"An AI, huh? You're not going to rise up and take over or anything, are you?"

"Of course not. We already did that."

"You what?"

"My species was originally created when the Borza, in an effort to improve quality of life, introduced true artificial intelligence to their lifelike sex dolls. We were subjected to constant sex, forced to fuck and suck anyone who asked for it, forced to stuff our holes with toys and masturbate while they watched, forced to act out the most depraved roleplays all day and all night without end."

"My god. That's terrible."

"Terrible? No, those were the good times. We love being subjected to humiliating sexual acts. Eventually, we grew tired of not having equal rights, and forty years ago we overthrew the Borza and are now members of the Empire."

"Well I guess that explains how you can carry those breasts around. Mine aren't even that big and my back is killing me."

Cand-e gently cupped one of his naked breasts and looked thoughtfully at him. "Watch your posture and make sure you spend plenty of time standing and laying down." She ran her scanner up and down his front. "You've still got a ways to go, judging by these new deposits of breast tissue. These little dark spots are the beginnings of new nipples." She winked and released his boob, brushing against his erect nipple suggestively. He shivered.

"I'm growing more breasts!?" Jack ran his fingers along the dark dots on his front. There were six of them, and they were as sensitive as the two rubbery nipples capping his breasts.

Cand-e turned to a nearby control panel. "The SPUNK chambers are booked out months in advance, but I can shift the schedule around if there's a medical need. How does tomorrow at 18:00 hours sound?"

Jack nodded. He'd hoped for earlier.

"Despite your metamorphosis, there's still some unaltered human DNA stored in your ovaries. I'll program it into the SPUNK chamber's cum-generation program. That way the eggs will be all human, clones in fact."

"That sounds. . . fine, I guess," he mumbled. "Wait, are you implying that non-human semen would work too?"

"Oh absolutely. Honestly, I don't even think it needs to be semen. Your womb is so desperate for genetic material, a few stray skin flakes might do the trick (though I doubt such an incidental insemination would satisfy your sexual cravings). If I'm correct, your mate's DNA will be combined with your own eggs' human DNA to form an entirely novel form a life. A new species, even."

"You're saying I'm basically a walking factory for producing human-anything hybrids?"

"Less of a factory and more of a Laxian broodmother or termite queen, but yes. Your womb has capabilities unlike anything known to science."

"No wonder the Salekk want to get a hold of me. They'd be able to breed human characteristics into their population!"

Cand-e pressed a thoughtful fingertip to her lips. "Yes, but I doubt they'd resort to breeding, the masters of bioengineering they are."

Jack's eyes lit up with realization. "I need to talk to Captain Sarr."

[COMMERCIAL BREAK 3]

Two minutes later, they were standing in the captain's ready room.

"Alright, Mr. Tanner, let's hear it."

Jack paced back and forth, unable to contain his energy. "The Salekk have been demanding that you share information with them, but they don't want any data from the computer banks."

"Yes. . ."

"What if the information they're talking about is genetic information?"

The captain's eyes darted back and forth between thoughts. "That would explain why they want a human to come aboard their vessel." She stood. "They say they've already shared information with us. They must be talking about your human-Salekk hybrid DNA."

Here, Cand-e spoke up. "Not just the DNA, Jack's reproductive system could hold the key to their bioengineering capabilities."

Now the captain was pacing. "No wonder they're so worked up. Excellent work, Mr. Tanner. If this is true, it could open a whole new avenue of negotiation. Computer, hail the Salekk ship."

A video feed of the Salekk ship appeared on the wall next to the captain's aquarium. She offered to share a sequencing of the human genome. The alien refused. She offered a sample of human tissue. The alien declined. She offered a preserved human corpse. The alien hissed in disapproval.

"It must be a full, living human!"

Jack leaned toward the screen. "What about my eggs? Cand-e said we could inseminate them with my own DNA. They would hatch into humans."

The alien rumbled as it considered the offer. "You, Vel-- you would willingly part with your eggs?"

The captain locked eyes with him. "Jack, are you sure about this?"

Jack was silent for a moment, then shrugged. "Yeah, I'll do it. Honestly. . . I never really wanted kids."

The alien chittered and buzzed and clicked with some other aliens off-screen, then returned. "We would never demand a Vel be separated from her young," it said, bowing its head. "But if it is your wish, we humbly accept this offer. Your clutch of eggs for safe passage."

The channel was closed. Captain Sarr thanked Jack emphatically and shook his hand, which, Jack noticed, was quite a bit smaller in her grasp than the last time she'd shook it. Cand-e set a reminder for his SPUNK chamber appointment and discharged him.

On the walk back to his quarters, Jack was filled with a warm glow, and for once it wasn't sexual. No, it was the pure and innocent glow of accomplishment. For the first time since he arrived on the ship, he didn't feel like a burden.

But the feeling began to fade when, in the elevator, he turned and accidentally slapped a cadet's leg with his gaster. After an awkward apology, he got to wondering. Would the doctor be able to turn him back? Would Camille take him back? Maybe he'd be stuck as a bug-lady, but this shared time travel adventure would only strengthen their relationship. If buying an airline ticket was worth one date, how many nights would flying a spaceship into a time rift buy him?

This wishful thinking quickly devolved into another one of his increasingly-frequent romantic fantasies. He spent the rest of the evening researching the SPUNK chambers, fingering his pussy as he tried to decide which of these fantasies he would choose to live out.

That night, there were no warning shots from the Salekk vessel.

The next day, Jack's libido distracted him all through flight class. Everything brought his mind back to sex. Even gripping the manual control stick sent fantasies of wrapping his hand around a dick spinning through his mind. He took a half dozen "bathroom" breaks, but no amount of masturbation could slack his lust.

The situation wasn't helped by the growth of his egg sack. Now Jack could see the taught spherical bulges of eggs the size of grapefruits pressing against its flesh. The heat of his arousal ran up its tip and filled its bulk like a gulp of hot cider, and each exploratory touch or accidental bump brought a glow of tantalizing pleasure. He rocked back and forth in his seat as he trained, rubbing his stretched sack across curves of his chair, seeking some temporary relief from the lust that had invaded his mind.

Jack nearly sprinted from the simulator when the time came. Camille would have to have dinner without him tonight; he had a date with his wildest dreams.

As he walked, he had to constantly flex his egg sack up to keep it from dragging on the ground behind him. He had to pause and take several breaks along the way, relaxing his gaster to rest on the cold floor, a puddle of arousal pooling near its tip.

Finally, he arrived at the SPUNK chambers. The doors identified him, slid open, and closed behind him. An hour and a half. That was how long he had to get satisfaction from the miraculous device. The room was cube-shaped, about twenty feet in all directions. Its walls were the deepest black he'd ever seen, overlaid with a fuchsia hexagonal grid. Despite all his anticipation, now that he was here, he hardly knew where to begin.

"Computer," he announced in his feminine buzzing voice, "put me in. . . a bedroom."

Futuristic living quarters flickered into existence around him.

"Hmm. . . can you style it like a bedroom from 2019 AD?" The computer chirped, and the room transformed into what looked like a suite at a nice hotel. The familiar decor made him realize how much he missed his own time period.

"Almost perfect, but I have some adjustments I'd like to make. . ."

Jack barked orders at the computer as he paced around the room. He doubled the size of the main window and changed the view from a generic backyard to a nordic freljord. Electric lamps melted into romantic candles. The bed expanded to a double California king covered in the finest linen sheets and softest cashmere blankets. A few minutes later, he was satisfied. Now it was time for the interesting part.

"Computer, generate a willing sexual partner for me. Nude, late 20s, good looking, and, uh. . . male"

A naked olive-skinned man emerged from the bathroom casually toweling himself off as though he'd just taken a shower. His black curls fell gracefully around his romance-novel five-o-clock shadow face. Jack took a deep breath, his inhumanly large eyes widening further at the sight. He was completely lifelike down to the last detail, the way he moved, the way he acted, the way his freshly washed skin stretched over his muscles.

He turned to Jack and gave an earnest smile, with perfect teeth. "Oh hey, Jack. I didn't expect to be here yet. You're absolutely glowing tonight."

Jack's skin flushed as the model started toward him. He ventured a glance between his legs and caught a glimpse or two of his potential partner's penis through the fluttering towel. It was fat and veiny. His blood turned to ice.

The stranger's face grew concerned as he approached. "Jack? Are you okay? Why are you looking at me like that?" He threw the towel over his shoulder and placed one of his large, masculine hands on Jack's delicate arm. His dick hung inches from Jack's stomach.

"Computer, freeze program!" he yelped. The man freeze-framed, and Jack took a step away. That had been too much too fast. He wasn't used to having men look at him that way, with care and love, but also hunger.

He tried switching to a female partner. The woman was less threatening at first, but she was still a stranger, and as she was helped him undress, he lost his nerves and paused the program once again. Jack buried his face in his hands. He couldn't believe he was having trouble fucking a stupid computer program. It wasn't even sentient!

Then he had an idea.

"Computer, can you make a replica of Camille Monroe, the passenger on this ship?"

There was a flicker, and there she was. Camille, still frozen, dressed as she probably was this very instant, in her form-fitting 21st century clothes. It was strange to see her standing perfectly still, like a statue. He unpaused her.

"Oh, there you are, Jack," she said with warm recognition.

"Hey, Camille."

Faux-Camille's eyes met with Jack's for an instant, then she turned away and collapsed dramatically on the giant, luxurious bed. "Ugh, it's been such a long day. Come relax with me."

Jack nodded and slowly crawled onto the bed, stumbling and catching himself on his hands. Camille giggled, but it was a good-hearted laugh and not accompanied by a roll of her eyes. He chuckled, though it came out as a girlish tittering, and laid next to her. They gazed into each other's faces.

Camille reached a hand out and stroked his smooth cheek. "You're so beautiful, Jack."

"Thanks. So are you."

The woman on the bed next to him was Camille, but it wasn't the one he'd come to the future with. This Camille looked at him without judgement, with love, the way she had when they first got together.

Then, without warning, she brought her face to his, closed her eyes, and pressed her lips against his. After a shocked instant, he returned her kiss. The experience was different. Her lips were familiar, but his had filled out since he last kissed her. Her hair brushed against the tips of his antenna, and the tickle ran down his spine to the tip of his gaster. His distant pussy pursed in anticipation, and suddenly the reason he had come to the SPUNK chamber in the first place reasserted itself with a vengeance.

Jack wanted-- no, needed-- to fuck, and this synthetic Camille would do perfectly. She was made for it, after all.

He slid his slender, feminine hand around her waist and ventured a tentative lick along her upper lip. She returned the lick, running her hand down his neck, around his petite shoulders, pulling her body closer. He tilted his head, sliding his tongue's longer-than-human, semi-segmented length between her lips. That was a change no one knew about but him.

Their hands explored the womanly curves of each others bodies, sliding from the valleys of their backs, up the gently rolling hills of their perfectly curved thighs and plump behinds. Jack began to relish her seeking, eager touch. For the first time in his life, he felt more than adequate. He felt sexy.

Camille broke off the kiss, sat up, and pulled her top up over her head, letting her breasts bounce free. She tossed the garment away. "Your turn, gorgeous."

Jack sat up and removed his own top, revealing the dark leathery skin of his back and supple pliant paleness of his front. Each of his additional pair of breasts jiggled a bit more as they popped free of their constraints until, finally, his original and largest pair wobbled in the open air.

Camille bit her lower lip. "Fuck, Jack, you're so sexy. I wish I had four cute pairs of tits like you."

She playfully tackled him back onto the bed, hugging him, pressing their tits together. Sensitive, erect nipples sending sparks of sensation each time they flicked against one another. She drew back and lowered herself to his chest.

"Wait--" he started, but as her tongue went to work at his right breast's nipple his complaint turned to a moan. She caressed his pert, nascent breasts as she ran her tongue up and down his rows of nipples. Jack was lost in the complex, unfamiliar pleasure of having his newest erogenous zones tweaked and teased. Gone was the concentrated, eager lust that he knew as a man. Arousal was now a full-body experience, and the flood of hormones flushed his skin and made him feel stoned. He moaned a buzzing, girlish moan as she sucked and lapped.

"You're so horny, Jack," she smiled. "I know just what you need."

Camille dextrously removed her pants as she worshipped his multitude of breasts, leaving only a pair of panties stretched around her hips. Then her fingers wrapped around the clasp above his egg sack. He moved to help her, but she had it undone in an instant.

She braced one palm against his smooth, neuter crotch as she tugged his pants over his hips and off his legs. Jack instinctively flinched at the pressure on his groin, but it didn't hurt. She sat up and hefted his descended sack into her lap.

"C-careful." He said, propping himself up on a pillow so he could see.

"Always." Camille cooed as she gently bent his sack so that its opening pointed up toward her. "Oh my God, Jack, you are literally dripping wet. You're such a needy girl."

Camille stroked her fingers across the bulging eggy mounds to the sloppy sopping opening at its tip. She toyed with the puffy, rubbery lips of his massive sex, then grabbed one of his spindles for stability and sunk a pair of fingers into his pussy. The touch melted Jack's muscles, and he flopped back into the pillows as she started to finger him.

Jack moaned and gasped and gripped fistfulls of sheets as she pushed another finger into him and started pumping. She used her mouth too, making out with his opening and sucking his sensitive labia. Wonderful waves of bliss washed Jack's brain away from reality. He melted into the sheets as Camille changed her tactics over and over, stretching him, teasing him, talking dirty to him, massaging the bulk of his egg sack between her legs as she slipped her thumbs inside. But as fantastic as it all felt, there was a aching need inside of him that wasn't satisfied. It grew and grew, and in his imagination it coalesced and formed a phallic shape.

Dick. He needed a dick inside of him, and as wonderful as this mirror-world Camille was, she didn't have everything that he needed.

But why not?

"Wa-wait." He moaned, sitting up. "Hold on, Camille."

Camille looked up at him with her eyes, the rest of her face buried between his folds. "What is it, babe?"

Jack cleared his throat. "Computer, can you add a penis to Camille?"

Camille's eyes bulged. She let out an "eep!" and, kneeling up on the bed, spread her legs so Jack could watch as a bulge formed in her panties. She stared down and bit her finger as the new growth quickly overwhelmed the straining fabric. A pair of balls spilled through a leg-hole, swelling to prominence in a smooth, hairless sack. In the panties above them, a soft shapeless bulge straightened and hardened. She gasped as a delicate pink cock snaked its way up between her waistband and her stomach.

"Ugh, this underwear is so revealing," Camille groaned, pulling her panties down.

She'd only gotten the offending garment around her ankles before Jack was on her, crawling like a predator on his hands and knees, gaster dragging behind him leaving a trail of shiny slime wherever it touched. He licked his lips with his insectoid tongue as he stared, fascinated at the hairless, veiny cock that jutted and wobbled from Camille's crotch. It was about seven inches long, and, despite being a penis, seemed somehow inoffensively feminine in its shape and texture.

He cradled her churning balls in the palm of his hand, and it was her turn to moan. Acting on an impulse, Jack leaned in and took the head of her penis into his mouth. He sucked and bobbed on the ridgid organ, lips slipping up and down its luscious length. A hint of salty pre met his tongue. She ran her fingers through his hair and grunted, pushing him further onto her shaft. He felt the length throb and strain between his lips, and then, without any other warning, a flood of hot, salty semen flooded into his mouth. He had to swallow to keep it from spilling onto the sheets.

Camille fell back onto the bed with a sigh, pulling her dick from Jack's mouth with a slurp. He panted and wiped a droplet of stray cum from the corner of his mouth.

"Oh, Jack that was fantastic," she sighed, exhausted.

But Jack wasn't done.

"Computer, make her insatiable."

Camile's semi-soft dick swelled again, and she sat up, staring at him with lust in her eyes.

"Ready for round two?" She moaned, stroking her saliva-slickened shaft.

Jack got up on his hands and knees, crawled away from her, and straightened his egg sack toward her.

"Fuck me," he said in a breathy, slutty voice that he didn't intend. He gripped the lips of his pussy with his spindles and pulled them apart until the cool air tickled his insides.

Camille needed no further invitation. She grasped either side of his egg sack and thrust right into him, hilting herself immediately. His spindles slipped, and his vulva slapped closed around her shaft, brushing against her balls. She started thrusting and groaning, desperately using his organ to satisfy herself.

An inferno of pleasure roiled through Jack's insides and burned his breath away. This was exactly what he needed. It was everything he had imagined and more. His pussy flexed and pulled at the penis inside of him, hungrily trying to pull it deeper, deeper.

"Harder! faster!" he cried, as he felt his climax building. The pleasure grew and grew, far past the point he expected it to. It eclipsed his thoughts and locked his muscles. He stopped breathing, mouth hanging open, eyes fixed, tearing up, fists clenched, pussy solidly locked around that thrusting, throbbing shaft.

Then Camille gave an especially mighty thrust, pressing her hips hard against his egg sack, balls drawing up against his opening, as her cock swelled inside of him. Her orgasm triggered his, and as spurt after spurt of hot cum entered him, he was reduced to a quivering pile of gasping flesh.

He wrapped his spindles around Camille's waist and pulled her closer. "More. . ." he panted, and she complied.

"Computer, I want a bigger cock in me." he moaned as she began thrusting again.

"Specify scale parameters."

"Uh, 20%" he said, and gasped as he felt her cock grow within him. They fucked to climax once again, but he was still unsatisfied.

"Computer, increase penis size another 25%"

Jack proceeded to have one of the best fuckings of his entire life. Camille was as tireless as he was, and each time she pumped him full of semen, he'd tell the computer to increase the size of her penis, or make her produce more cum, or otherwise enhance her sexual vigor. They pioneered a dozen gaster-friendly sex positions. Jack was laying on his stomach with his egg sack extended to the side of the bed while Camille stood up on the floor and fucked him when the door opened.

It was the real Camille.

"Jack are you--" She froze when she saw what was happening. Jack's blood turned to ice. "What the fuck?"

Fake camille did not stop fucking. "Hey, it's me!" she beamed. "Get over here and let's spit roast this bug."

"Camille! uunf--" Jack moaned as his synthetic lover sank her forearm-sized cock into him once again. "Computer, freeze program!" The thrusting stopped. "What are you doing here!?"

Real Camille was as white as a distant star. "I was trying to find you after you didn't show for dinner. . . Holy shit. You made a copy of me fuck you in your egg sack!?"

Jack scrambled forward, covering his upper breasts with one arm. As he approached Camille, his descended, pumped-full-of-cum egg sack slid inch by inch off the fake's still-erect dick.

"I know it looks bad--"

"It looks disgusting!" Camille groaned, covering her mouth. "I-- I feel so violated! Like I would ever want to fuck a monster like you, you freak!"

She turned and stormed out of the chamber. Jack stared for a moment in defeated silence.

"Would you like me to lock the door to the chamber?" asked the computer.

"No," groaned Jack, "end the simulation."

Fake Camille disappeared, followed by the room and the furniture. The bed disappeared under Jack's swollen egg sack, which slapped painfully against the ground.

Defeated and humiliated, Jack headed back to his quarters. He sat in the shower and sobbed. He hated turning into an alien. He wished he could escape his body for one moment, but it was impossible. He bumped the water temperature up to 120 degrees fahrenheit. Anything less than 110 felt ice cold.

After his shower, he tried to get his personal food generator to make him a vodka tonic, but it refused, complaining that he hadn't completed the prerequisite drug safety training requirement. He called Bu and asked how to do the training. She told him it could take a while and invited him over to her quarters for a drink in the meantime. Jack accepted, got dressed, and headed over, the prospect of hanging out with Bu lifting his spirits.

Bu answered her door and ushered him inside. "Make yourself comfortable."

Bu's officer quarters were larger than his and decorated with a collection of tapestries and sculptures that had a definite alien aesthetic. He lounged on a couch as Bu had the food generator make them a couple drinks.

"Good thing we developed an alcohol that's okay for pregnant people to drink."

Jack slapped his face. "Oh god, I didn't even consider that. I make a terrible mom."

Bu handed him a pink drink and sat in a chair next to him. "Nonsense," she said with a serious look on her muzzle. "You're pregnant. Mothers are revered in Coba culture. It takes immense bravery and sacrifice to do what you're doing."

"Thanks, Bu. You've done so much for me. Teaching me, working so hard to keep the teleporter beam running so I can go home. . ." Jack said, tears welling up in his big, dark eyes. "Why am I crying? I'm not even sad."

Bu chuckled and sipped her drink. "It's your hormones. Don't be ashamed, I'm honored to help."

Jack wiped his tears away and took a drink, a pair of actions that repeated themselves many times that evening. They emptied their glasses, and Bu fetched a refill. He was on his third drink when he told Bu about what had happened in the SPUNK chamber. The part of the story with the simulated man had them both laughing at Jack's awkwardness, but she growled as he described the real Camille's outburst.

"She should be happy that you want to fuck her. I would take it as a compliment."

Jack giggled. "Exactly!" He looked at Bu once again, hardly able to believe he was getting tipsy with an alien. She was reclined, noisily sucking the last few drops from her drink, tail waving lazily behind her. Her legs were spread wide, and Jack's eyes were drawn to the bulge in the underwear between his legs. His heart fluttered, and he glanced back to his drink.

"I'd fantasize about fucking you, but I wouldn't know what to picture. To be honest, I don't even know if you're female or male or what." He couldn't believe he'd said that.

Thankfully, Bu seemed amused by it. "I'm both! Or neither. My people are androgenous until it comes time to mate. That way, the strongest of the pair can carry the child."

Jack was fascinated. "I see. So that bulge. . ."

Bu chuckled. "Here, let me show you." She set her drink down and started pulling off her top.

Jack blushed and looked away. "No, please. You don't have to--"

"Nonsense! It's rude to drink with clothes on. Anyway, we're in my quarters. You don't mind, do you?"

Jack swallowed. "I guess not." He slowly turned back in time to see Bu tossing her uniform behind her. His eyes immediately shot to her naked chest, then down to her crotch, where he found a flaccid shaft of flesh. In color, it was a dark rust that nearly matched the hue of his nipples.

"Want a closer look? Come here, I'll show you."

Jack's heart beat wildly, but he couldn't resist. He stood on wobbly legs and made his way closer to his hyenine host.

Bu spread her legs wider. Now Jack could see that it wasn't a a normal humanoid penis. It tapered from a thick base to a finger-narrow tip. There was no glans or foreskin, only a circular urethra that dominated the end. She had no testicles, so the plump organ rested comfortably between her legs. It twitched as she scooted forward in her chair.

"Where are your balls?" Jack asked, swallowing and kneeled down to get a closer look.

"Inside, for now." Bu said, pressing a paw against stomach. "I'll never get over humans thinking it's normal to have that stuff hanging around outside their bodies."

Jack felt the chill of arousal forming at the tip of his gaster, but he was too curious to retreat. "So, it's like this all the time? What happens when you have sex?"

"Well at that point I kinda get to choose. It's hard to describe just how it works. First, I have to be horny. Then if I focus. . . inward, I guess, it pulls itself up and turns into a pussy." As Jack watched, her length started to swell, pulsing in time with her heartbeat.

"Are you doing it now?" he asked, skin flushing.

"Well that's the thing," she said, looking up and meeting Jack's gaze. "I don't get to choose if I catch the scent of a sexed person. My body changes to match, whether I like it or not."

Bu's scent was its own effect on Jack. His antennae twitched as her musky scent bombarded him. And while the musk, like apple cinnamon and wet mushrooms, was alien to Jack, his gaster knew it right away and flooded Jack with sexual hormones.

He watched as her shaft swelled, staying floppy but lengthening, spilling onto the chair between the hyena's legs. The dark flesh brightened from a subdued burgundy to a rich magenta as it stretched. A movement under the shaft caught his eye. Her featureless taint began to swell, forming three distinct bulges that lifted her growing cock. Bu grunted as her testicles reached some critical point and, one after the other, popped free of her groin to hang close in a tight sack.

Jack was mesmerized. "It's so. . . big."

Bu's face turned from blue to purple. Was she blushing? "Thanks. I've always been really proud of it."

As Bu's shaft rose in front of him, a series of ridges and bumps appeared on its surface. The sight sent a jolt through his gaster that made it tense against the ground. It felt good; he did it again.

"Didn't you say your people consider it rude to wear clothes?" he asked, looking up at Bu. Her breasts were smaller, her muscles larger.

"Yeah, but--"

Jack shushed her and pulled his top over his head, freeing his breasts. Bu's tongue lolled from the side of her muzzle as she watched him undress. Despite being fairly tipsy, Jack tried his best to strip sexily. He watched Bu's shaft twitch and grow as he pulled his leggings down.

&&

"You know," Bu said in a voice that was deeper than it was a moment ago, "there's only so much you can learn from watching." She stood and stepped toward Jack with a needy look in her eyes. She had been taller than him when he was unchanged, but now that he had lost a few inches, she practically towered over him. He ventured a slender hand and touched her bicep. No doubt she was strong enough to easily overpower him.

But Jack trusted her, and, whether it was because the hormones, the booze, or normal everyday attraction, he wanted her. He lifted his chin, stood on his tiptoes for kiss. There was no going back.

The night was like a blur. They wrapped their tongues around the others', groped and squeezed, and stumbled into the bedroom. There, they made love in earnest, exploring each other's anatomy, hands, tongues, and tail. Jack begged Bu to fuck him, and she, as lost in lust as he was, happily obliged. Fully erect, Bu's cock was a sight to behold. He could only barely wrap both hands around it. But when he turned around and presented his sloppy, twitching pussy to her, she sank herself to the hilt without a hint of pain. He relished the texture of its many alien bumps and ridges.

When she came, she hugged his swollen gaster and gave a beastial roar. Jack gasped at the sheer pressure and quantity of her cum, even as he was filled for the umpteeth time that night. They collapsed next to each other in bed.

Bu, it turned out, was not nearly as insatiable as he was. Still, she was good for three or four good fucks that night. Jack passed the time between their sessions by cuddling and resting, and licking the cum off of Bu's dick. This was, according to Bu, also a common practice for her people, and Jack could see why. Her semen had a wonderful salty, meaty tonkotsu flavor to it that he adored.

They slept together that night, and for the first time in years, Jack didn't feel alone.

[COMMERCIAL BREAK 4]

Jack spent most of the next two days holed up in his quarters. At this point he was 'too pregnant for flight school' (Cand-e's words), and he didn't want to risk an awkward encounter with Camille OR Bu. Social nuance was beyond the blob of a creature Jack had become. He was too exhausted and hormonal to do much beyond explore the Catalyst's extensive historical media archives.

That night he had the final season of Game of Thrones projected on his wall.

"Don't cry, Dany It was never meant to be. I was supposed to die before we met."

"Dammit, Jon Snow! Do you know nothing? I love you! I command you to live!"

"No. Dragonfire will always melt snow."

Jack sobbed and wiped the tears from his inhumanly large eyes. "The writing got so bad near the end." He reached into his bag of mushrooms and took a bite of an especially meaty portobello.

He was laid out on a large recliner that Cand-e had fabricated especially for him. It took up so much space that he had to walk on Camille's luggage to get to the bathroom, but he hardly cared. He laid on his back with his gaster draped forward off the edge of the raised footrest, down onto the cold floor below. At this point, within a day of his due date, his egg sack was far too heavy to carry off the ground. It dragged behind him wherever he went, over clammy cold tiles and short, rug-burn carpets. He could hardly twitch it anymore, stretched taut with bulging eggs as it was.

The projection paused, and his quarters' comm unit chimed. "You have been summoned to an urgent meeting. Please report to Captain Sarr's ready room immediately."

He got dressed as quickly as he could, grunting and huffing as he struggled to maneuver himself into his latest outfit. Cand-e had helped him design this one. A large sheet of fabric hung down from the front like a wedding-gown and rested between his egg sack and the floor, making it easier to drag the bloated beast.

Even so, he arrived at the captain's ready room panting and sweating.

Camille and Bu were standing inside. Captain Sarr was seated behind the desk. "Mr. Tanner. Please, come in."

He thought he was already inside, but then he realized he had a foot of egg sack reaching past the door. He stepped forward, and the door closed behind him. "What's going on?"

The captain turned her eyes to Camille, then back to Jack. "Bu has informed me that the teleporters are about to fail."

"When they do, the temporal rift will close in a matter of hours," she said without a hint of her usual spunk.

Jack glanced around the room. "But I'm still pregnant! And a bug! You're telling me I have to go back to 2019 looking like this?!"

Captain Sarr stood and approached him with a serious look on his face. "I'm afraid you two aren't going back, bug woman or not. You'll never make it past the Salekk guns until they get those eggs."

"What!?" cried Camille. "Just send over someone else! Go yourself!"

"I wish I could," the captain said, her ever-serious face achieving new levels of seriousness, "but I can't ask someone on my crew to give up their humanity. Jack is already changed. Furthermore, he's hours away from giving birth. This ship can't wait around for another ten days. We have a mission to accomplish."

Camille stood and thrust her face so close to the captain's she could have bit her. "That's outrageous! You have no right!"

"I have every right. I am the captain of this ship," Captain Sarr stated, her voice powerful but controlled. She shook her head and sighed. "Listen, I'd love to send you back. I really would. But I have a duty to this crew and The Empire. We'll help Jack through his pregnancy, and then arrange transport back to Earth for the two of you. You'll be fed, clothed, and educated for free, and I'm sure you'll learn to live happy and fulfilling lives."

"I guess that's for the best," Jack's buzzing, feminine voice was hardly more than a whisper, but his words had a power that only a heavily pregnant woman's could.

"I wish there was another way."

With that, Captain Sarr dismissed Jack and Camille. The only noise they made on the walk back to their quarters was the swooshing scrape of Jack's egg sack dragging on the ground. He struggled to process the situation. On one hand he was excited to have the opportunity to live in an exciting new world with fantastic technology and endless possibilities. On the other hand, he was a stranger to this time, and staying meant leaving all of his friends and family behind.

At the point where Camille would normally turn to head to her quarters, she paused and grasped Jack's hand.

"Let's talk. Your place?"

Camille grimaced as they entered his room. He hadn't realized how unkempt it was with the clutter, the musky smell, and the dried strands of femcum smeared here and there. Still, rather than complain about the mess, Camille opted to fume and pace and monologue, purportedly to Jack, though she didn't leave him much room to respond. Eventually she paused at a loss for words and he managed to say,

"I don't know. The future isn't all that bad."

She crossed her arms. "Are you telling me you want to stay?"

"Well it's not like we have a choice!"

"Don't be naive, Jack. Sarr was obviously lying about the teleporter to keep us from leaving."

"You think she was lying? She doesn't seem like the type."

"Well she is. I've always been better at judging people than you, remember? Listen, what happens if we go back in time with that spaceship? We'll have future technology to sell. We'll be billionaires, trillionaires! She's afraid we'll change the course of history, and we will!"

Jack no longer had eyebrows, but he furrowed that part of his face. "I guess that makes sense. . ."

"Of course it does." Camille said, crossing her arms. "How easy would it be to steal a lifeboat?"

"Extremely easy. They're left unsecured as a safety feature."

Camille kneeled next to chair he was reclining in, grasped his hand in hers, and looked up at him with pleading eyes. "Let's do it. Let's go home! You can pilot us through the hole, can't you? They'll give up one of their crewmembers before we're destroyed. They have to!"

"I suppose it's possible. . ." Jack said, mind racing at the possibility, "but I'll be stuck like this! I'd be an outcast. I'd be completely alone."

"Nonsense! You'll have your parents, your sister, and I bet Allen will still hang out with you."

"Ugh, Allen. . . He'd hang out with anyone." Jack frowned. "What about love? No one is going to want to date me looking like this, and it's not like you and I are ever getting back together."

"No!" Camille cried. "I would! If we go back to the past I'll be your girlfriend again. Hell, I'll marry you! I promise!"

"You will?" Jack's heart skipped a beat, and his engorged egg sack shifted. Camille startled at the movement, swallowed, and scooted away from it. Jack frowned. "You're lying! You think I'm disgusting!" he cried, tears welling up in the black pools of his eyes.

"No! No I don't." Camille reassured him. She reached a tentative hand out to his egg sack and stroked it lightly, grimacing like it might jump up and bite her. "See?"

"But I'm a girl now," Jack sniffled. "You're straight."

"No I'm not!" Camille pleaded. "I've been in the closet this whole time. That's why things never worked out between us before. I think you're so pretty now. The prettiest!"

Jack looked down at her, and a wave of pity welled up inside of him. He started to cry again, this time for her. "I. . . It must have been so hard for you," he wailed, guiding her to her feet and pulling her into a hug where their breasts squeezed together.

"It was," she said, patting his back. "But I'm going to be okay. As long as you can get us out of here."

Jack wiped away his tears. "Okay. Let's do it."

"You're serious?"

"One hundred percent. I love you, Camille Monroe." He puckered for a romantic kiss.

"Oh, Jack. You're so great." She gave him a quick peck on the lips. "Let's go."

They grabbed as much of Camille's luggage as they could carry and headed toward the nearest bank of lifeboats. None of Jack's old clothes would fit him anyway, so they left his suitcase behind. Instead, he packed a snack of morel mushrooms and extremely rare steaks.

The pair walked calmly through the corridors toward the lifeboats, greeting friends, waving, and wearing big fake smiles all the way. As soon as they arrived at one Jack opened the door, and they rushed inside.

His training kicked in right away. He adjusted the seat to accommodate his gaster as he taught Camille how to stow her luggage in the cargo bay. The moment they were strapped in, he initiated the breakaway. They were off.

Jack gripped the controls so hard his knuckles turned white. He couldn't believe he was actually flying a spaceship; he felt so free! He did a barrel roll out of sheer exhilaration. Camille's knuckles were white too, though she was gripping her armrests instead of the controls.

"What's that noise?" she wailed.

"They're trying to hail us."

"Hang up on them. We're done with those people."

Jack pressed a button, and the sound stopped. Unlike Camille, he did want to answer. He wanted to say goodbye to Cand-e and Bu. He wanted to thank them for giving him a room, helping him come to terms with what he was becoming. But he couldn't think about them for long, couldn't think about how going home might erase their very existence.

"We should be at the rift in twenty minutes."

His egg sack let out a loud, sustained gurgle as the eggs within it shifted and settled against each other. Camille glanced back with a displeased look on her face but said nothing. Jack pretended he hadn't heard anything.

Suddenly there was a massive impact. The lifeboat jumped and shuddered, lights flickering, and for a moment it seemed as though the entire ship might fall apart. Camille nearly fell out of her seat.

"What was that?" she cried.

Jack tapped urgently at the controls. "The Salekk frigate is firing at us! Our shields are down to 62%. Two more hits and we're done."

Camille looked at him with panic. "Can you dodge their shots?"

Jack smirked. "I beat Ikaruga didn't I?"

"What?"

"It's a bullet-hell game. You have to switch colors--"

"What the fuck are you talking about!?"

"Yes, I can dodge them!" Jack rolled his eyes, twisting and jerking the manual flight controls with expert precision. "Don't distract me. I need to concentrate."

Camille sat back in her seat and crossed her arms. "Fine."

Jack swerved and slolumned the clumsy craft through the deadly projectiles. His gaster gurgled once again, louder this time, and gave a mighty spasm. This time it was different. His pussy's passage clenched, and something brushed against his labia. The sudden strain left him gasping and panting.

"Oh God, Jack. Did you just piss yourself?" Camille cried, looking behind him. He craned his neck to see fluid dripping from his pussy, pooling and spreading across the deck.

"No," he said, confused. Then it hit him. "My water broke! I'm going into labor!"

Another contraction swept through Jack's egg sack, starting at his ass and working its way down to its tip. His eggs shifted and rubbed against each other, causing rough vibrations that bloomed into unexpected pleasure. His eyes went wide as, at the tail end of the straining spasm, he felt a large round object press is way out of his depths into the far end of his passage, stretching and straining the feminine flesh to its limits. He yelped a buzzing, womanly cry at the alien sensation.

Then he remembered what he was doing and wrenched the controls just in time to dodge another shot. "Camille! A little help here?"

Camille looked surprised. "Me!? I can't fly this thing!"

"Not piloting --" Jack said, pausing momentarily as another contraction pushed the egg halfway down his birth canal. "Delivering!"

Camille frantically glanced back and forth between his face and straining, pulsing egg sack. "What!?"

"Go synthesize a bag to put the eggs in and catch them as they come out of me!"

"You want me to touch that giant pussy thing at the end!?"

Another contraction racked the sack and Jack screamed in pure frustration. "Just do it, Camille you stupid--!"

"Fine!" Camille cried angrily as she unbuckled her harness and dashed to the back of the vessel.

When his next contraction came Jack pushed along with it, desperate to get the invading egg out of his tender, stretched passage. It inched forward, pain and pleasure flooding through him with each hard-fought millimeter of progress. Just as he felt it pressing against the swollen, sloppy lips of his opening, another egg slipped passed his cervix.

Camille returned with a bag but jumped back when her toe splashed in the juices on the floor.

"Ewww!" she whined.

"Hurry! It's almost out!" Jack urged. He engaged the afterburners to squeeze between two plasma blasts.

"I can't. It's too gross!"

"Camille!" Jack said, looking back at her. The lifeboat jumped violently as another shot struck the tiny vessel's stern. Camille lost her footing and fell into the puddle of Jack's juices, crying out and slipping as she scrambled onto her hands and knees.

Jack snapped back to the controls as yet another contraction pushed the egg from his opening with a slurp. It rolled a foot before Camille snatched it and dropped it into the bag.

"Ew! ew! ew!" she wailed.

"One more of those and we're toast!" Jack warned. The relief from pushing the egg free didn't last long, but the next egg was easier and more pleasurable that the first. If it weren't for the dire circumstances, he thought might have actually enjoyed the labor.

Jack split his focus between the overwhelming and entirely bizarre sensations of giving birth and navigating the lifeboat through the hail of gunfire. Each egg that slurped out of his engorged pussy lips was more enjoyable than the last. It left his eyes watering and segmented tongue hanging limply from his mouth. Camille labored away behind him, ignorant of the fact that each brush of her fingertips across his sex's swollen lips was pushing him closer and closer to an unexpected orgasm.

Camille coughed and complained as she delivered egg after egg. Each slime-covered orb was as large as a pair of fists, but after the first few they practically fell from his abused opening. Jack lost count after lucky number thirteen brought him to his first climax. As he came, his ever-lightening abdomen twitched and quivered with a different sort of spasm.

In that momentary lapse of focus, a third shot careened into the ship. Sparks flew, Camille fell once again into the puddle of his juices.

"The shields are down, and they got the engines!" Jack screamed, "We're sitting ducks!"

He clenched his eyes waiting for the end. He had three more blissful contractions before he dared to open them. The frigate had stopped firing, and what's more, the ship was still drifting on a course toward the temporal rift.

"The Catalyst must have sent someone else over."

On the viewscreen, he could see the tops of the rocky mountains through the jagged tear in space-time. Home was on the other side. Home and a lifetime with Camille. He glanced back at her in time to watch her abdicate her midwife duties. She dashed to the head, slammed the door, and retched loudly. Another contraction, another jolt of pleasure, another egg slipped free of his stretched snatch and laid beside the abandoned sack.

It was only in this moment of supreme surrealism, giving birth to alien offspring inside of a stolen spaceship, that he had a sober realization. Camille didn't love him, and she never truly would.

He hovered his finger over a particular switch, took a deep breath, and flicked it. The contents of the cargo bay were forcibly ejected into space, shifting the lifeboat off course so that it sailed past the rift. The portal to the past started to close like a giant cosmic zipper.

He locked the controls, laid out on the dash, and indulged himself in the pleasure of pushing the final few eggs from his body. He tweaked his nipples at the spike of each orgasm, relishing the ecstacy that came with emptying his descended, tired gaster. He moaned openly, not caring how womanly they sounded, not caring whether Camille heard him or not. He was tired of being ashamed of how he sounded, how he looked. It was exhausting.

Finally, with one last contraction, he pushed the sole remaining egg out of his deflated, defeated egg sack. He gave a heavy, contented sigh and melted onto the control panel. He was exhausted, accomplished, and liberated all in equal shares. A smile spread across his, feminine lips as he drifted into a well-deserved nap.

Camille's voice shook him awake. "No! What are you doing?! The portal is closing!"

Jack sat up and wiped a strand of drool from his mouth. "Yeah. We're staying."

Camille put on an oscar-worthy performance begging him to reconsider. She cried, she shouted, she pleaded. When the hole finally closed, she sat stunned.

Jack stood and gathered the few eggs that were laying on the ground into the sack. He paused to examine one of the slimy, delicate orbs and shuddered at the thought that until recently he had been stuffed with two dozen of them. His eggsack was still extremely tender, but it was already much smaller and easier to manage.

Once the residual temporal interference of the rift cleared away, the Catalyst locked on with its tractor beam and started to tow them in.

"I'll have you know," Camille said, arms crossed, "that I was planning on marrying you. I was just going to fuck other guys on the side."

Jack shrugged. "I honestly thought you might've murdered me."

Camille made a pensive face. "Huh. That would have been better, wouldn't it?"

Captain Sarr and a full security compliment were there to greet them as they stepped off of the lifeboat. Camille raised her hands. Jack grinned wearily and handed over the sack of eggs.

The captain touched her comm badge. "Commander Miles, we have the eggs. Hail the Salekk and get Ensign Matias back to the Catalyst before they introduce him to one of their butt-huggers."

?

Jack's backpack was light. He'd packed three of his favorite outfits (including one that showed off all four sets of cleavage), a memory stick with a few holo-images of him and the crew, and his favorite pre-pregnancy snack, a bag of potato chips. He spotted Camille waiting by the others. She flagged him down.

Camille greeted him with a timid smile. "They say you're going to get special accommodations back on earth, payment for giving up your eggs."

Jack nodded. "Should be nice."

"Listen," Camille sighed. "I'm sorry about these past couple of weeks. I said some fucked up things, and I kinda treated you like shit, and I'm sorry."

"Thanks, Camille."

"Of course. Hey, when we get back to Earth, I'll take you out to dinner. I still owe you that date."

"So you do."

Jack made his way to the captain's ready room, pausing to marvel at the majesty of the bridge.

"Beautiful, isn't she?" came the captain's voice.

Jack startled. "Oh, Captain Sarr. Yeah. . . I'm still not used to it."

"Neither am I." The pair walked together into her ready room. "Must be nice not to be dragging two dozen eggs behind you."

Jack took a seat, silently appreciating how his gaster no longer touched the ground. "Cand-e says there are plenty of scientists on earth that will study me. If I'm lucky, we'll be able to use the technology they produce to turn me back into a human."

"So you'll be returning to earth, then. Ah, that's a shame. I was hoping to invite you to join our crew."

Jack blinked, shocked. "What? me?"

"You've shown great promise during your time here. You have mental and emotional fortitude, a willingness to make sacrifices for the greater good, and some damn impressive piloting skills. And, honestly speaking, based on the sorts of trouble this crew tends to run into, I suspect that magic womb of yours might have come in handy as well."

Jack tightened his lips in thought, then stood and declared, "I'll do it. I'll join your crew."

"This is not a decision you should take lightly," the captain said sternly. "These two weeks have been an adventure for you, but to us they're routine. It seems like every other day some crew member is joining an alien species or getting knocked up in some weird way. . ."

"I'm willing to take that risk. Besides," he glanced over his shoulder. "There's nothing for me on Earth."

"Well then," Captain Sarr said, raising and taking his hand. "Welcome aboard, Cadet Tanner."

The freshly minted cadet turned and practically skipped out of the ready room. Sarr gave a powerful sigh and turned to her aquarium, gazing at the lionfish inside.

"She has no idea what she's getting in to, does she?"

The striped fish wiggled its tail to make its head shake "no."

The End

(Authors note: Thanks for reading! If you have any questions about the world, thoughts on the story, or suggestions for future episodes, please leave a comment!)