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“Attention, everyone. Attention, everyone. All those looking for transport from Avennereya Waystation, all public transports have been delayed indefinitely due to hazardous conditions. We will notify you when transports resume. We apologize for the inconvenience.”

There was plenty of groaning and disgruntlement around the waystation, hardly a surprise given that it was an incredible inconvenience for everyone. Space travel now was like air travel back in the day - the only way to get from here to there in a convenient amount of time. It was just that the difference between here and there was many orders of magnitude larger. Even hyperspace wasn’t time-efficient enough, the upper limit of speed available was still too low to conveniently cover the vast distances required. Fourth-dimensional travel had made exploring the extreme reaches of the universe possible - one could cross parsecs within a matter of seconds, opening up the greatest expansion of humanity in history. But the power requirements were still quite demanding, requiring dedicated gates to make the jump from one location to another. Waystations were where people gathered to get transport to and from gates and the destinations in local space served by them, and they were one of the main reasons hyperspace was still viable technology.

The stations were only meant to be hubs, but the nature of travel required them to serve as hotels as well. There was residence enough for several thousand people, resources enough to keep them all sustained for weeks. But no one thought of it as anything like luxury, and they merely served as a way to kill time until they could get back on track. Most resigned themselves to the reality of the situation. Others, not so much.

“This is ridiculous. I didn’t come all the way out here to be stuck in a damn waystation for who knows how long. I want to travel now!”

“Mister Wiques, sir, there’s nothing I can do.” The agent was certainly trying to remain calm, which was more than could be said for the one confronting him. Portan didn’t like traveling much, and he was more interested in getting home than anything else. Being stuck in a waystation was the worst of everything. “The transports are not running, the conditions are too hazardous. There has been a spike of atypical radiation in the area, ships are not capable of being protected from it, and no one wants the liability for what happens to the passengers.”

“Oh, what bullshit. I’m really sick of this crap, you hear me? I want something arranged, I don’t give a damn what excuse they’re giving out this time.”

“That is not within my power, sir.”

“Then get me someone for who it is! For fuck’s sake, are you stupid?”

“No one on this station can help you with that. No public transport will be allowed at all. If you wish, you can try to find a private transport at your own cost, but I very much doubt any of them are any more likely to go out in these conditions.”

“Grr...you and your fucking rackets. Fine! And don’t think I’m not going to file a complaint!” Portan stormed off from the desk angrily; he hated that it was going to cost him more money to get home, but in a contest between money and time, he was going to favor time. At least he wouldn’t have to put up with more crap. In truth, he knew that taking it out on the agent wasn’t really helpful...he probably should have vented at someone else, and not made his life more miserable. Easy to think of when he was past the point where it mattered…

His ire was definitely more with the union. He hated them, he didn’t trust them, and he certainly didn’t buy their claims of what slowed down traffic. There was a public transport union serving each area of local space served by the gates, and most of them were fine, but the one in his home system had a reputation for stirring up trouble - they were constantly jockeying for more pay, and he didn’t like a lot of their hires, they had an attitude about them. The worst part was the laziness, which was exemplified in the whole ‘atypical radiation’ story; Portan didn’t believe for a moment that such a thing existed, it was surely an excuse to get out of working for a while, perhaps to make a political statement. Sure, some would swear up and down that someone they knew had been changed by it, perhaps irrevocably, but he suspected they were just paid off by the union to make those claims - it was a big universe, there were so many different peoples out there that you would never know them all in your lifetime, who was to say that that stranger they trotted out wasn’t just a normal person elsewhere?

The problem was that they affected the private transports, too. He went from stall to stall, trying to talk each one into going, but they were refusing for the same reason. None of them accepted his claims, which was especially frustrating - they were passing up good money for a fiction. Even the one who seemed sympathetic wasn’t willing to risk it, citing ‘better safe than sorry.’ It made him wonder if the union had some sort of thug waiting in the wings for anyone who took the chance.

He was just about to give up with something caught his eye. A long-haired, slightly effeminate-looking man with a very casual, laid-back air about him, something he knew he recognized the moment he saw him. “Vayne?”

The man turned, and broke into a grin almost immediately. “Portan! Hey, nice seeing you, man, it’s been, what, two years?”

“At least! How’re you doing? Don’t tell me you got stuck out here too?”

“Nah, I’m as un-stuck as you can get! Got my license last year, I’m working transport now!”

Portan’s eyes widened. “No shit?! I thought you said it’d never happen in a million years with your scores! Someone actually accepted you?”

“Yeah, it wasn’t easy convincing them but I did get there! Turns out I’m better at the practical stuff than the book learning. Now I’m just doing my thing for everyone I can, it’s getting me by pretty nicely.”

“Nice, man! Please tell me you didn’t sell your soul to the fucking union.”

Vayne let out a loud laugh. “Not on your life, bud! Like I was gonna let them gouge my earnings for fifty fucking years for no good reason. No, I’ve got my own ship and I’m doing private work. It’s a lot more satisfying.”

“I’ll bet, and a lot more honest, too! Man, I need a huge favor out of you...I don’t want to be stuck here for days while the union futzes around like a bunch of bozos. Do you think you could take me to Khreiss?”

“Sure, Portan, no problem! I’ll have to charge you the going rate, but we can leave today. I know you don’t like having to wait around for these guys...they’re going on about atypical radiation, but I’ve never had a problem as long as I’ve been flying out here. I think it’s a pretty convenient excuse to get out of work, but I wouldn’t want to be getting out of work when there’s so much to make off of it.”

Portan brightened up instantly; he wasn’t going to be stuck after all, he’d be able to get home on time and be able to relax, finally! “You’re a lifesaver, Vayne! Thank you so much! I’ll pay whatever you want, it’s worth it to get out of this stupid place!”

“Hah, that’s a risky thing to say, some of these guys would take you for everything you had! But don’t you worry, I’m not gonna do that, especially not to a friend. Let’s get you loaded up and heading on out, and then we can catch up on things while we’re on the way. Sound good to you?”

“Sounds perfect!” He couldn’t have asked for better, not just getting transport but from an old friend. Maybe the day wasn’t going to end up so bad after all.

---

Vayne’s ship wasn’t the most luxurious Portan had ever ridden on, but that made sense, given that he was apparently more into cargo transport than personal transport. But there was a guest quarters that Vayne let him take over, which was a lot nicer individual set-up than most transports, especially ones that Portan could afford. And he didn’t have to deal with other passengers, either...just him and Vayne, a chance to catch up with a friend over the next couple days.

Almost everything on the ship was automated; Vayne really only was there to catch something going wrong. Even calling himself a pilot was a stretch since piloting was pretty much automatic all the way through, unless it absolutely had to be taken over. Usually that only happened with active threats to the ship, leaving little for them to do but keep a watch on everything. Sometimes a pilot would take over manual control just to make sure he stayed fresh, but Vayne didn’t seem to have much interest in that this trip.

The two of them chatted for hours over drinks, talking about their lives and what they’d been up to in the two years since their last encounter. Vayne’s time had mostly been on transport, though he was able to report a couple of relationships that had flamed out rather spectacularly as well. It sounded very much like the Vayne that Portan knew well, he’d always had luck getting laid but not keeping up with it - in fact, Portan had joked that he’d gotten so used to tapping that he’d forgotten how to grab. Of course, Vayne’s usual response was that it was easier to tap and yet Portan still hadn’t figured out how to do that.

It was true that Portan didn’t really have a lot of rolls in the hay, he didn’t do a very good job of picking up women and didn’t have time for relationships. He’d been hard at work with a couple of different business ventures, none of which had stayed stable but not all of which could be considered all-out failures either. He had some other ideas that he was getting ready to try, but it took a lot of time and capital, and he didn’t feel like he had any of either to spare on courting a woman. Not that he enjoyed celibacy, for sure, but he planned to figure it out on his own time.

It was a nice bit of catch-up, it was like there hadn’t been two years between them by the time they parted for the night. No question, he was happy that he’d run into Vayne, they needed to not be nearly so distant in the future. Vayne was one of the few friends that he’d maintained over a long term...Portan had a hard time making friends, his personality could be a bit abrasive and he got frustrated with people rather easily, and he’d lost some close friendships over business disputes. There seemed to be little risk of that with Vayne, which gave him some comfort.

There was little other than a gentle hum through the walls as he laid down in bed. It was rather warm in the room, so he decided to forego clothing, figuring that Vayne wasn’t likely to come inside for any reason. Not that it would’ve been THAT big a deal, it would just mean that Vayne would have a story to tell to embarrass him later, and what was one or two of those between friends?

He didn’t really know when he fell asleep - time was weird when in space transit - but by the time he woke up at least a few hours had passed. He felt very strange...something was off with him, he’d slept but he didn’t feel as rested as usual, and his body was feeling weird all over. Especially in his groin...he grunted a bit and reached down, trying to rub his junk and figure out if the fabric was making it feel so strange…

He paused as he reached the area. It wasn’t there.

Portan’s eyes shot wide open as he made contact down there. His dick and his balls had completely, utterly disappeared...replaced by what could only be a vaginal opening. He shuddered a bit as he pressed a finger inside a little by accident, but whatever pleasure there was was overridden by the panic of the change. What...what the fuck is going on here? What the hell...where’s my junk?

He threw his covers off and stumbled out of the room; his legs felt a bit wobbly, his head spinning a bit. He didn’t even realize he should cover up, too in distress to think clearly all the way. All he knew was that he had to find Vayne, divert to the nearest emergency station, try to fix whatever had gone wrong…

He’d just reached the captain’s lounge near the cockpit when he heard a loud thump. The cockpit door opened, and Portan’s jaw dropped. The strangeness hadn’t just claimed him...and this was way more radical.

Standing in front of him, chest heaving, was an enormous, humanoid gryphon, complete with wings, beak, and tail. He must’ve been nearly nine feet tall, muscled beyond belief, and the most bizarre color, a lavenderish purple with black tiger stripes. The remains of fabric clung to his fur and feathers, recognizable as the clothing that Vayne had been wearing. And, just as hard to miss, the beast was sporting a raging erection that looked obscenely huge on his body, complete with frightening-looking barbs at the head and down the body and a huge knot at the base.

Portan couldn’t move or speak; the sight of it had stalled his brain. Only when it was too late to do anything did he realize that the gryphon that was Vayne was lunging towards him, and before he could back out of the doorway and shut it, it had a hold of him and yanked him inside. Desperately he tried to break the grip, snatch himself away and get the hell away from the monster, hoping that Vayne has some sense of himself left still…

All that ceased the moment a long, thick, clawed finger reached down and roughly pushed inside his new passage. His body seized up as a furious, electric pleasure ripped through him, making him jerk slightly and clench down on the digit. He could feel the claw in him, it wasn’t dull, it probably should have hurt but it wasn’t...in fact, it was quite the opposite. He jerked again as it rubbed inside him, sending thunderbolts of pleasure through him. Before he knew it, his mind had gone blank, and he was crying out and shaking hard, soaking Vayne’s finger with fluids from his pussy. It was like an orgasm he’d had as a guy and yet somehow entirely different, definitely way stronger.

Vayne’s finger pulled out. Slowly, Portan came down from the climax, and if his head had been spinning before, now it was positively whirling. Now he was smelling Vayne’s scent, so strong and thick and need-inducing...he was complete putty in the gryphon’s hands now, even if he had been let go he couldn’t have gone anywhere.

Roughly he was pushed to the ground, Vayne on top of him, snarling, all noises animalistic; he was in a frenzy, his mind firing on all cylinders to fuck, rut, breed, relieve his body of its load. Now that he had his bitch under control, he was going to do just that...it wasn’t really registering that it was Portan, perhaps because it didn’t match the Portan he knew, but there was no telling if it would have mattered even if he had realized it.

It was far too big, but that didn’t seem to matter - he plunged in, and it slammed in deep, not stopping until the knot smacked against Portan’s new pussy lips, a rather large bulge visible in the altered human’s abdomen. Both screeched, Portan’s high-pitched cry drowned out by the bestial call from Vayne. He began rutting with mindless ferocity, heedless of the mismatch in size, the apparent relative frailty of his partner...though, Portan didn’t seem to be suffering at all from either of those. He was in a euphoria that he never would have considered possible, lost in a constant stream of orgasms, or maybe just one long, continuous one...his cunt was being raked over endlessly by those long barbs, stretched out by the unbelievable thickness, abused so thoroughly and yet demanding only more.

And he got more, Vayne kept at him at a speed and force that should have broken him several times over, not pausing or slowing one bit over seconds and even minutes. The only moment where things changed was when he suddenly rose up, slamming Portan against the wall and resuming his thrusts in an upright position, fiercely cawing and growling as his cock sank in and out of that too-small tunnel, making sure it accommodated every bit of him. Portan didn’t respond at all to the impact, too heavily entombed in mind-melting ecstasy to register any of it.

Soon Vayne was pounding that fat knot against the human’s cunt, trying to drive it in despite the thickness appearing far too great. He held Portan so solidly that his body couldn’t move an inch in any direction and slammed with inhuman force, trying to break through and finally seed his bitch. And all Portan did was spread his legs as wide as his body could manage, offering himself to the beast that was giving him such heavenly pleasure. He could feel it slamming hard, his body wasn’t really yielding, wasn’t capable of yielding...but in the end, it didn’t matter, because Vayne forced it in anyway, his pussy lips stretching impossibly wide to accept it inside, the bulge forcing in and locking into his body.

Rapture exploded through both of them, their cries joining together and echoing throughout the ship. Massive bursts of semen pumped into Portan’s body, swelling him up rapidly; plugged up by the knot, not a single drop could escape, and he didn’t want a single bit of it to. And the feeling of it, and the pleasure it gave him with this new climax, put all the rest of them to shame...he didn’t care that his stomach was bloating out beyond reason, if it felt this good he would beg for it like his life depended on it.

And Vayne was in his own throes of ecstasy. Nothing he’d ever had before even came close to feeling this good, the tension around his cock, the flexing of his barbs, the sensitivity of his knot, and the rush of cum through his shaft, so much thicker and more copious than ever...this was a slice of heaven that he never wanted to give up. He held Portan tight as he let the rush fill his bitch, the new vessel for his seed, still too lost in the mindless rush to realize who it was he was doing this to.

Eventually it had to register, and as the two came down for their respective highs, still locked together beyond either’s ability to undo, they gazed into each other’s eyes, recognition and understanding finally breaking through. Having been finally sated, they were able to take stock of what had had happened.

“Damn...you got a pussy?” Vayne’s voice was so much deeper, more wild than before...Portan didn’t know if it was that feeling or just the vibrations of his body that were making him shake.

“And you...changed so much...how?”

“It must’ve been the radiation...changing us in weird ways.”

“You mean...it was real? Not just...some dumb excuse?”

“Guess so.” Vayne was feeling his cock start to loosen, sooner than he expected...and to his surprise, the bloat inside Portan was rapidly receding, all that excess fluid being sopped up inside him until he was dry again. Indeed, not a drop passed out of him as he drew his cock out, making the human shudder and moan again from the stimulation of the barbs. “But fuck...that felt way too good, it’s hard to be too angry about it.”

“Y-yeah...I...I never felt this good from sex before…” Portan agreed. He didn’t feel nearly as tired as he thought he would...and an experimental touch down at his snatch surprisingly suggested that he was plenty tight again. “It’s like...almost like it never happened…”

“Must be a special thing, because there’s no way this monster should’ve fit inside you,” Vayne remarked as he lifted his cock up with one hand. “Must be another effect.”

The two were quiet for a moment, and then their eyes met again. Vayne smirked, an almost sinister expression on a beak. “Another round?”

“God, yes.” Portan didn’t even know how badly he needed it, just the mere suggestion was putting him back into a lustful haze. He stepped up to Vayne and started licking at the tip of the beastly cock, finding the taste to be perfection. Really, anything Vayne wanted to do, he was more than happy to do if it felt this good…

It wasn’t long before the gryphon was ramming the full length of his dick down Portan’s throat, lost in a frenzy no less fierce than the first time...though, with no lack of knowledge of who he was doing it to. And neither of them had any problem with that.

---

A month later, the two of them were on a different planet entirely - one of several colonies of the Irrads, the collective term for those affected by atypical radiation. It turned out that there were quite a lot of Irrads in the universe; with no known mechanism for blocking atypical radiation, and plenty of individuals and groups caught unaware during transit, there had been a need for safe havens for the changed and experts to deal with them. It had taken Portan and Vayne a while to get there, due to several factors - not the least of which was being unable to keep their hands off each other for very long, which ended up being very distracting when they were the only ones on the ship.

The two had marveled at the vast variety of phenotypes that had greeted them on landing, and they’d gotten plenty of looks back. Even though Portan still looked human, he could sense that they could tell he was one of them...there was a connection on a deeper level than just visually. And then there was the fact that quite of few of them were setting his loins ablaze...and judging by some of the looks he got, the feeling was mutual. Vayne, on the other hand, was feeling far more comfortable with the way he looked here than back on the human worlds, where his appearance was often terrifying or unwelcome.

The doctor they’d been sent to was one of the few non-Irrads on the planet, but seemed to fit right in with them somehow. His examinations of Portan and Vayne were thorough - tests, samples, and physical examination of every part of them. It was a very clinical approach, but he did his best to avoid making them feel uncomfortable. Finally, after several hours, he stood in front of them with the results.

“Well, the good news is, I’m not finding anything noxious in either of you. No tests yielded any signs of biological hazards or unpleasant conditions. Despite the reputation Irrads have of being quite hardy and difficult to damage, a fair few of them quickly develop rather nasty illnesses that break them down quickly, but you’re negative for all of them.”

“So everything we’re feeling is normal, then?” Vayne asked. “Including the lust?”

“Quite. Around 85% of Irrads are hypersexual...it’s likely part of the radiation that drives that sort of thing, an effort to enhance propagation of Irrads. Whatever it is that’s causing it knows that it can’t create that many just by itself, and sends impulses to spread further.”

Portan blinked in confused surprise. “You...you think it’s something trying to create this?”

“Right now that’s actually the leading theory. Something with agency, with a mind...I know how weird it sounds, but there are too many peculiarities for it to just be a natural phenomenon. If it’s any consolation, there’s a lot of doubt that there’s anything hostile behind it.”

“Right...well, you prefaced this with ‘the good news.’ Is there bad news, then?”

The doctor shrugged. “Depends on your viewpoint. You’ve been changed for a month...in my experience, those whose changes are transient return to normal very quickly. The rate of return drops drastically after three days, and is virtually zero by ten. The latest I’ve ever seen is 29 days, and that was a major anomaly. You just passed that point, so I would consider you to be locked in as an Irrad permanently.”

“We kinda already figured that,” admitted Vayne. “After we didn’t turn back after one day...and we didn’t really feel any desire to. It’s true that most Irrads that don’t want to turn back don’t, right?”

“That’s the typical pattern that we see. Some kind of psychosomatic component is at work...but it’s not a perfect indicator. But in any event, it’s good to hear that you’re accepting. And the colonies can provide you with a lot of peers who have gone through the same thing, so you’ll have plenty of others who can relate.”

“Well, given that we’re in the state we’re in, I’m not holding my breath about going back. Honestly, it’s kinda cool being like this...er, guess I don’t know how Portan feels, though.”

Portan shrugged. “Honestly, I’ve been in too much bliss to really be concerned. I’m more surprised this was the only change, but I guess it’s really pretty random what happens. Is this unusual?”

“Somewhat, but certainly not that rare. I’ve seen all sorts of shifts like that - males to females, females to males, hermaphrodites, intersex of various sorts. Tends to be one of the easier things to get used to due to the hypersexuality and the pleasure component. I will warn you to be cautious on one front, though, your reproductive tracts are hospitable...Irrads have a very low breeding rate due to their genetic abnormalities - probably another reason for the hypersexuality - but they can produce viable offspring in rare cases. I’d put the rates at roughly one per 25,000 breeding events for an intersex individual like yourself, but you may want to get yourself some protection just to avoid that.”

Portan nodded in understanding. “Thanks for the advice, doc. Anything else?”

“I think I’ve run my course. Come back if you feel anything strange, of course, but we should be done here for today. I’d encourage you to look around, get to know some people, they can give some info on where you can settle down if you’re thinking you’re going to do that.”

“Thanks...I think we’ll do just that.”

The two shook hands with the doctor and strolled out of the medical office. Once outside, Vayne looked down at Portan, his arm on his partner’s shoulder semi-protectively, semi-possessively. “So...you thinking you want to look into that birth control?”

Portan grinned back up at him. “Not on your fucking life. I wanna get knocked up more than anything. It sound so weird saying it and yet more right than anything. Just means you’ll have to work all the harder if you want to plant your gryphlets in me, because somehow I think you’re going to have competition.”

“Oh, I’m looking forward to it. C’mon, let’s find a place to get our sex on, I’m feeling pent up already.”