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Desolation: The Vanguard

Chapter II: Shailai

By Von Krieger

Shailai laid spread out on her bed, snoring loudly, her limbs sticking out in every direction, as if she was consciously trying to take up as much space as possible. She covered even more space due to the long, metal tendrils that sprouted from her back. Though in theory she could function as a combat operations cyborg, her role had been that of communications specialist and systems technician.

Demons were tricky things, coming in a variety of forms, and lack of forms. There were demonic entities that could creep into computers and communications equipment with ease. They could lie dormant, merely treating them as housing, or they could cause mischief or outright destruction of equipment. The Vault needed someone hooked up to key systems 24 hours a day, patrolling the virtual world to assure that there was nothing within the machinery to cause havoc. She had been chosen for the Deimomech project due to also having past experience as an aircraft pilot.

Already having the experience as flying combatant, she was the perfect choice to operate the Wyvern mech. Compared to the others the sinuous serpent wasn't as heavily armed, it served as a fast moving scout and a precision attack tool. The Wyvern's primary weapon was a heavy rail-gun, the machinery to support it running through most of its long, serpentine tail. The wings had been made absolutely massive to compensate. Despite its mythril-like framework, it was still a heavy creature, its blue-purple-black coloration stemmed from the solar panel-like scales that also served as armor.

It took a great deal of energy to make what was essentially a 150 foot snake fly. The broad wings, chest, and back allowed for the attachment of jet turbines, which allowed for easier, quicker, more conventional flight, but also with the trademark loudness of an aircraft.

The stones allowed for limited silent movement. Its eyes were keen and the rail-gun's range was incredible, especially when fired from several miles up. The solar cells also could be discharged in a draconic breath-weapon, and the creature's scales were razor sharp, allowing it to slice apart anything it constricted.

Wrapping its wings around itself, it could also serve as an amphibious support unit for the Leviathan, though there were few bodies of water large enough to harbor demons, and the aquatic deimomech was much better suited for clearing out those infestations.

Mostly the Wyvern was used for scouting and sniping, as well as general utility missions. Shailai figured that she was likely the first post-war person to go into space, as between the jet engines, the Wyvern's wings, and the intrinsic magic that allowed such a massive creature to fly in the first place, the deimomech could actually fly high enough to place satellites out far enough into the atmosphere. Small manoeuvring jets could place satellites in geosynchronous orbit once they were in position.

The heat from re-entry didn't bother the Wyvern at all, and Shailai had requested a set of thermal energy storing soulstones so that the mech wouldn't have to drain its flight reserves in order to fire off its breath weapon, but as usual the higher ups were dragging their feet.

Her metal tendrils slithered over the bedclothes, not held bound by the same effect that prevented her arms and legs from moving as she slept. They allowed her to patch into many systems at once and could alter their length and connection. Fully extended each half-inch thick tendril could reach over twenty feet.

She tended to have them wrap around each other and kept them, for the most part, at waist height. Coupled with the triangular, metallic ears atop her head, this had lead to her being referred to as a "kitsune" behind her back, a powerful, but merely mischievous sort of demon, relatively rare in the area that had once been the United States. Her tendrils didn't look much like tails all spread out, slithering over one another like a nest of serpents. As she looked down upon the sleeping cyborg, Delilah figured that whoever had assigned Shailai to the reptilian, serpentine Wyvern had seen her like this.

The demoness could see the faint discoloration in the air of the Wyvern's spirit, not yet able to affect the real world, the new mechs were not as old and thus not as powerful as Lillith was, but it seemed that with time, or perhaps with a little help, they would gain the capability. Delilah stroked the sleeping serpent's head, coaxing the miniature version of the deimomech from around its pilot's body. The serpent had coiled around Shailai, wrapping its wings around her chest and back like a cloak.

The astral demon's eyes opened, and it nuzzled against Delilah's hand, a gentle spark passing between them. It knew what she wanted, and it approved. Unlike Delilah, the Wyvern had been intimate with its pilot, it knew her mind and spirit, and it knew what she craved.

Delilah moaned softly as she felt the demon's thoughts mingle with her own, "I will do as you ask," she whispered, "I will do all within my power to give the both of you what you desire."

The glowing red-orange of her precum stained Delilah's thighs; thankfully her conjured clothes had held it within until she removed them. She panted as she dipped her fingers in the fluid, using it to draw glowing runes and sigils upon both Shailai and the bed.

The communications expert had been far lighter than Delilah herself, and though while her bed was also of the plastic envelope filled with fluid type, her waterbed was actually filled with water. Or at least it had been. The water, the plastic bubble itself, the bedclothes, and Shailai's nightgown were all transformed into a metallic blue-black form of deimoplasm, the same color as the Wyvern's scales.

The cyborg's tendrils ceased their writhing within the thick fluid. Delilah smiled as she stepped up onto the bed, kneeling over Shailai's legs. She extended her claws, running them over the girl's perfect white skin, angelic, perfect, artificial, just as her own had been.

Delilah could no longer contain her own need, her arousal, her hunger. Reality warped around her, ever so gently, allowing for a subtle blend of wake and sleep, of dream and truth.

Shailai's eyes opened and she gasped, her body still slumbering, held fast in place by the mechanisms that kept it from acting out its dreams in the waking world. She looked up at Delilah and saw the demoness, fear fluttering in her chest. But she quickly recognized her instructor's features, filtered through the demonic palette rather than the angelic.

"Wh-what's happening?" she whispered.

The succubus smiled and put a finger to Shailai's lips. "I have been given a gift," she said, "A bond to my sweet Lillith deeper than anything I have ever known. It has suffused me, transformed me, and brought out my inner essence, making me everything that I have always wanted to be."

She lowered herself atop Shailai, the almost invisible runes upon the cyborg's belly and breasts showing the Wyvern's claim to her lighting up, surging to full power as another demon toyed with the beast's property. The mech's astral form rested at the edge of the bed, head resting on the padded side rail, watching the proceedings with curiosity.

Shailai let out a soft moan of pleasure, her body associating the touch of a demon in the most intimate of places with sweet, delicious pleasure, pleasure that she had never consciously known, but felt every moment that she was within the Wyvern.

Delilah's onyx lips hovered just above Shailai's own, tantalizingly close, but they might as well have been miles away for all that Shailai could move. "I can share my gift with you," Delilah whispered, her forked tongue slipping from between her lips, running across the pilot's own with a tickling gentleness, "I can give you and your Wyvern the same unity of form and spirit that Lillith and I share. I can make you feel warm and alive inside again."

"Y-you're a demon..." Shailai whispered; eyes half lidded, nearly out of her mind with lust as Delilah ground against her. The demoness' sexual juices leaking down onto her, contagious in filling the girl with need.

"I am," Delilah agreed, "And I offer you this choice because you're like me. We both gave up a portion of our humanity so we could protect others, and those others will carve more and more of it away from us until we are little more than cold, empty machines, merely mobilized weapons for killing demons.

"We don't have to be machines, Shailai," Delilah purred, licking her lips, "We can still guard, still defend, still free the wastes from the wicked beasts that infest it. You will, in time, lose your humanity in order to defend those around us. But would you wish to have your soul die as well? Growing cold, emotionless, and empty?

"You will cease to be human in time, you know this. You've seen the older cyborgs, you know that eventually you too will take up your weapons one day, and walk out into the wastes, never to return. I am not going to take anything from you, Shailai, save for that wretched fate. You will lose your remaining humanity, you will become a demon, but your soul will not dwindle into a cold cinder, but rather will flame up into a roaring blaze of passion."

Delilah pressed her lips against the captive pilot's, her tongue caressing Shailai's own in the most delightful of ways. The half-dreaming pilot could have bitten down if she wanted to, and the thought crossed her mind, but instead she found herself returning the kiss, her arms rising from the blue-black slime around her to embrace Delilah.

"I... I accept." She whispered once the embrace had parted, "I don't care about being human; I want to keep my life, keep my soul."

The deimoplasm tightened, pulling Shailai's arms back down into the goo. Delilah smiled and closed her eyes, bucking against Shailai, her tail curving around to caress both their sexes.

The demoness felt something move inside of her, something soft giving way, and then there was a pressure within her, greater than the pressure of her slowly building climax. It was a hot, empty bubble within her, moving down through her sex with agonizing slowness. She knew that the moment it parted from her netherlips that she would be awash in magnificent pleasure, but nothing she did could move it further along.

Delilah's tail twisted, moving from pleasuring her sex, to slithering into her rump, seeking to perhaps force the bubble out from within. The demoness quivered as each segment of her tail slipped into her tight black pucker, the pleasure seeming to accelerate the presence of what she realized was an egg.

With a torrent of orange that spattered all over the room, Delilah's egg fell free from her sex, the hard shell a robin's egg blue, shot through with glowing veins of the same fiery coloration as her juices.

The raw metallic deimoplasm slurped up the egg, a cold, metallic chill filling the room for a moment as the raw substance drew upon the egg's power.

Delilah panted, her tongue lolling from her mouth, her eyes half lidded with lust. But she knew she had a job to do as she pulled back from Shailai. She continued to pleasure her tailhole as she went to work.

She reached down into the muck, seizing a pair of tendrils in her hand. They dripped with the thick deimoplasm, now navy blue. With a smile she took them and pulled them across Shailai's body, placing them near her opposite ankle. Tendrils of the deimoplasm reached out, painlessly piercing her skin, anchoring the tendrils there.

Delilah repeated the motion again and again, wrapping the tendrils around the cyborg's legs in various ways, always in pairs. The deimoplasm covered the tendrils, transforming them into a single cable, taking away their ability to extend and contract, leaving their lengths permanent.

As more tendrils were bound to Shailai's legs, they became increasingly immobile and increasingly bound together. Glowing silvery fluid leaked from Shailai's sex, tears of joy filling her eyes.

She was such a free spirit, not fond of authority, commands, rules, boundaries, or anything of the like. But deep down she enjoyed being constricted, enjoyed being restrained, of being made helpless by someone who cared for her. She had never dared to give voice to her deep lusts, as sexual fetishes and demonic taint were seen as one and the same by too many members of the Vanguard to risk being caught even confessing that the idea turned her on.

Within a few minutes Shailai's legs were bound together permanently. Delilah hmmed softly, having run out of tendrils to use. She chuckled to herself and began to grab the deimoplasm itself.

The blue goo pulled away from the rest, forming into a wide, but narrow ribbon of soft, shimmering latex. Delilah used both hands, wrapping it around Shailai's legs, creating a narrow cocoon, adding more and more, until legs and tendrils alike had vanished into perfect azure smoothness. The succubus reached into the mass, the deimoplasm still fluid. Shailai moaned in delight at the sensation, it was as if Delilah was rubbing and caressing her muscles from within. Which was exactly what the demoness was doing; she coaxed Shailai's nerves into her new tail, destroyed the old bones of her legs, replacing them with serpentine vertebrae.

The cyborg's new tail was complete, but it looked stumpy. She tried to move it, to get a better look at it. Though her mortal body was still held within the dream, her lower body, now the tail of a serpentine demon, moved, and moved, and moved. Her tail had not been the short length of her former legs; it had extended far beyond them, merely hidden within the raw deimoplasm.

Her coils slipped over the side of the bed, a good forty or fifty feet of tail below Shailai's waist. She watched as the navy surface darkened, hardened, and gained definition. Scales, scutes, and belly plates appeared upon her tail, her underbelly armored plates, silver and mirror-like, her back-scales the deep shade of solar panel purple-blue of the Wyvern, her scutes the steel razors like those that edged her mech's own scales.

Wyvern slithered up onto the bed as Delilah moved around, her legs sunk into the deimoplasm, wading around to Shailai's upper body, taking the cyborg's head in her lap. As Delilah began to plot the next portion of Shailai's transformation, the mech's astral form curled around it's pilot's tail, helping to guide the process.

Shailai arched her back, all fifty feet of it, sending her tail thudding against one wall as Wyvern drew its tongue across her loins. Though a young, juvenile demon, it still had lustful cravings; it wanted something that only its pilot could provide it, could provide her. The she-serpent's tongue flicked across the smooth scaly surface blow which Shailai's genitals once were. The silver parted into a new slit, longer and wider than the original had been. The half-demon leaked a glowing blue with her arousal, coating Wyvern's face as she eagerly lapped at her pilot.

The transforming serpent cried out again, her tail connecting with the other wall as something thick and sinuous slithered up from within her, thick, sticky streams of deimoplasm spewing from her new, serpentine cock as it rose into the air, one foot, then two, then three. It was massive, nearly a foot across at the base, though it soon divided into twin 6 inch thick segments. Metallic blue the serpentine's hemipenes coiled and writhed around themselves, reminiscent of Shailai's computer linkage tendrils.

The pilot could feel something being drawn out of her, the serpentine scales spreading over her belly, back, and breasts. "More, please more, please!" she gasped, "Please make me whole! I need... I need to fuck, I need it so badly!" Shailai cried.

Delilah giggled and took the pilot's deimoplasm coated hands in her own, the navy fluid having formed into latex like gloves to her elbows. The succubus peppered them with kisses, suckling slowly on each finger, pulling mass from Shailai's forearms to lengthen and elongate her fingers. Soon her forearms were little more than a broad place between her elbow and wrist. The scales had reached her shoulders now, narrow blue bands spreading down to link with those upon her elbows, drawing upon the deimoplasm around her to stretch her fingers further, and further, and further.

Even with the new muscles that swelled within her chest, also enlarging her bust, Shailai couldn't hold them up. Her huge, skeletal, tent-like hands fell into the goo surrounding her, the fluid oozing up, attaching as a thick membrane onto the demon-wyvern's new wings.

Shailai raised them up out of the fluid, and like her tail it seemed as if the rest of her had just been submerged for a moment beneath the surface. The deimoplasm flowed slowly up her neck, over her hair, elongating it, transforming it into half-inch thick metallic strands, new tendrils for her to utilize, allowing her to link fully with her mech once more.

In a few moments all that remained was her face. Delilah smiled and stepped back, Shailai looking up at her with confusion, "B-but, you need to finish!" she whispered, confused.

"It is not my place to seal you into demonic form forever." The succubus said, "That right belongs to another."

Wyvern slithered up Shailai's body, the serpent's translucent snout coated with the blue-silver glow of Shailai's arousal. Its sapphire eyes met those of it's pilot, the demon's head turning to the side, moving forward slowly.

"I belong to you," the new demon whispered, her neck elongating, the blue scales flowing down onto her face, elongating it into a muzzle as she leaned forward to kiss her mistress, "I belong to you, now and forever."