Written by Dumano1r :: [Monday, 09 October 2017 22:42] Last updated by :: [Tuesday, 10 October 2017 08:46]
Like everyone aboard the Magellan, Rowe heard the siren calling the crew to their stations. In sickbay, doctor McCall emerged from the operating theatre only briefly, directing the arriving nursing staff to prep for trauma injuries. He took Rowe's temperature by placing his hand on her head. “You feel fine, ensign, congratulations on not dying. We’re going to need this bed now, so you can go back to your quarters. You’re signed off duty for the next week.” Without another word, McCall hurried back into the operating theatre. A nurse came in and carefully removed the feeding tube, before applying a bandage. She handed Rowe her fatigues and drew the curtain to give her some privacy to get changed.
Rowe took off the hospital robes, folded them neatly on the bed and began to pull on her fatigues. To her surprise the trousers felt a bit tight around her hips, whilst the top felt less baggy across her chest than normal. Rowe put it down to all the extra food that she had consumed to combat the infection, and didn't think any more of it.
She said goodbye to Pascoe, and was surprised when the older woman gave her a hug. “Take care of yourself, my dear. Never let them devalue you.”
Rowe thanked Pascoe, then left sickbay to go and find something to eat. It seemed that her appetite was not abating now that she was feeling better.
Brennan arrived on the bridge and sat down in her chair. “Talk to me!”
Jones spoke quickly, but calmly. “A ship dropped out of warp three minutes ago. We have no visual, as it's behind several asteroids, approximately 6000 km from our position. From our scanners, it is a large vessel, about our size.”
“Have they hailed us?” Brennan asked.
“Have we hailed them?”
“Yes, without reply.”
Brennan tapped the arm of her chair thoughtfully. “Deploy the fighters, but tell them to hold back for now.”
A crewman at the comms station spoke suddenly: “Pardon me, ma'am, we have an incoming transmission.”
“On screen,” Brennan said.
The ship's display screen switched from a view of the asteroids ahead of the Magellan to a massive black man sitting in a command chair. He was dressed in a smart purple uniform, the male equivalent of Brennan's.
Brennan laughed at the sight of him, releasing the tension on the bridge. “Jules, you old bastard! You might have hailed us before now! You had my humans quite beside themselves with worry.”
Jules grinned, displaying rows of perfectly polish teeth. “Charlotte, I.must apologize, my ship is getting old and our warp jump knocked out our communications array. It's good to see you. Your tits look amazing, by the way.”
Brennan laughed. “You can inspect them later, Jules, in detail.”
Jules laughed, “I'm looking forward to it, Charlotte. Unfortunately, the humans in my crew struggle to accommodate the weapon that I am packing!”
Brennan laughed. “Well, at least you know I can handle all that you have and more!” She smiled knowingly. “We weren't expecting to see a supply ship for another three months. Why are you here so early?”
Jules smiled ruefully. “Current affairs, I'm afraid. I have fresh orders for you.”
Brennan was surprised, but hid it behind a smirk. “I'll look forward to it. See you soon,commander.”
The screen went blank. Brennan rubbed her chin thoughtfully. “The ship approaching is the Glyndwr, a supply vessel. Mister Jones, stand the crew down. I'll be in my quarters, call me when they dock with us.”
The Glyndwr was a deep space supply vessel, or DSSV. Like the Magellan, the Glyndwr had to be large to carry the kind of engines necessary to punch through the walls of reality to create a warp portal. But the Glyndwr carried a much smaller crew and instead devoted space to carrying huge quantities of supplies and fuel, which it fed to other vessels that would otherwise need to return more frequently.
Warp travel had produced amazing opportunities for mankind, allowing ships to jump through space at faster than light speeds, covering light years in hours. But communications had been unable to keep up with the pace. Transmissions from the Magellan, travelling at the speed of a light, would take thirty years to reach the nearest human colony, and fifty years to reach Earth. Matter, in the form of huge spaceships like the Magellan and Glyndwr, could be punched through warp space, but information, in the form of radio waves, could not. As such, supply ships carried not just food and fuel, but also orders, information and news.
The crew could see the Glyndwr on their screens now, an ugly collection of boxes that could never have flown in a gravitic environment. Supply vessels were the least glamorous of all deep space vessels, serving only to support the primary vessels that were exploring the ultimate frontier. Aesthetics were not part of their design.
The Glyndwr may not have been a glamorous posting, but like all warp-capable vessels, it was captained by a superior. Brennan knew Jules Dupont. She knew him as an officer and she knew him as a lover. Dupont was a superior, but he was inferior to Brennan, a mere thirty times stronger than a human. In Brennan's eyes therefore, he was still inferior, just marginally less so. But Dupont carried orders from high command, and therefore he was not inconsequential.
The Glyndwr, so ugly and blocklike, drew alongside the comparatively sleek Magellan and the two ships docked together, embracing each other in an emotionless, but totally loving, way, so that for a time the two ships existed as a single entity.
Rowe ate a substantial meal in the mess hall, clearing her plate twice, before eating two desserts. “You must be hungry,” the steward said.
“Ravenous. I’ve not been well. I think my body wants the sustenance.”
The steward nodded, not really interested. “There's plenty of steak stew in the vat over there. Help yourself, we’re throwing it away at the end of the shift.”
“Thanks,” said Rowe, but the steward was already busy spooning food onto a soldier's plate.
Rowe wandered over to the stew. It was in a big, wheeled metal barrel, about half full. It smelt unpleasant, slightly burnt. A ladle protruded from the glutinous contents and when she lifted it the waxy film covering the surface split apart like broken skin. She raised the ladle to her lips and tasted it, grimacing at the carbonic taste of burnt meat and the slimy texture of overcooked vegetables. Rowe looked around. No one was watching her. She carefully wheeled the stew into a nearby store cupboard, shutting the door behind her.
Alone and unobserved, she began to eat, wolfing down ladle after ladle of the lukewarm congealed beef stew. She ate and ate, so much that she astonished herself, but she didn't want to stop, she wanted more. Finally, in just under ten minutes, the whole barrel was empty. She had just eaten enough stew for twenty people.
Throughout her body, the nanobots rushed hungrily to use the flood of new resources.
Rowe looked at the empty barrel and felt disgusted with herself. What had she just done? It was like she’d been eating in a trance. Her fatigues were spattered with congealed gravy, her belly swelling against the fabric. She couldn't believe that she could eat so.much and so disgustingly.
Feeling slightly nervous about going back into the mess hall, she crept towards the cupboard door. She waited for a moment, took a deep breath and stepped swiftly through. She glanced left and right. Nobody was looking in her direction. She quickly slipped out of the mess hall, hurrying along a quiet corridor to the elevator that would take her to her floor. She pressed the call button, but decided she didn't want to risk meeting anyone in the elevator, so instead she took the emergency stairs three flights up to her tiny room.
Alone in her room she slumped onto the bed, her head in her hands. Eating to fight an infection was one thing, but what she had just done was not natural. She placed a hand cautiously on her belly. Was she imagining it, or did it feel smaller than it had ten minutes ago. What the hell was going on?
Brennan greeted Dupont in her quarters, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him passionately. Her breasts pressed hard against his massive, but inferior, pectorals. She drew one leg up around his buttocks. She could feel his throbbing member against her knee straining at his trousers.
“I'd forgotten quite how big you are,” she said, easing herself back to look him in the eyes.
“Too much for any human woman. It gets frustrating, I'm afraid,” Dupont said sadly. His father had obviously felt inadequate in that department, and had overcompensated with the geneticists who had designed his son. It was not an uncommon problem amongst lesser superiors males, those whose parents had been unable to afford the very best genetic scientists when designing their offspring. “Your tits still look incredible, by the way.”
“Rip my top off, get a better look,” whispered Brennan.
Dupont needed no further prompting, quickly ripping Brennan's uniform apart. Brennan’s huge chest barely moved as it was revealed in all its glory. Brennan placed her hands playfully over her nipples. “I'm sorry, I'm shy,” she giggled.
“I can tell, Charlotte.” Dupont chuckled deeply.
“Rip off my skirt and fuck me against the wall!” Brennan commanded.
Dupont grabbed the skirt and tore it off, then tore his own uniform apart. His vast member rose between her thighs and he carried her across the room without using his hands until her shoulders were against the wall. Then he lifted her one handed, sliding her down onto his shaft whilst he flexed the huge bicep of his other arm. Brennan ran her fingers around it as he thrust deeper and harder inside her. “This is the second biggest bicep I've felt this week!” Brennan laughed.
Dupont paused mid thrust. “Are you trying to make me feel inferior?”
“Don't worry, your cock is easily the biggest I've had inside me all year. Now stop preening over your muscles and fuck me!” Brennan closed her eyes with delight as he pushed ever deeper and harder inside of her, sending quivers of delight ringing from parts of her body that were untouchable to other men.
Rowe laid in her room for an hour, quietly pretending to read, whilst all the time gingerly feeling her stomach as it shrank away to nothing. She checked her watch and stood up. It was time to go for a shower.
She walked quickly down the corridor to the shower block for her deck. Rowe had always been uncomfortable with her skinny body and preferred to shower alone, but this was difficult in the close confines of a deep space vessel. As such, she had learnt the ship's routines and knew that the shower block was normally empty during the two hour period when one shift had started and the previous one was still unfinished.
She opened the door and stepped inside. The shower room was empty, as she'd hoped. The showers were arranged in two lines of ten around a single central wall. The walls, floor and ceiling were all tiled with the same pale cream tiles. At the end of the communal showers were two cubicles, though these were really just two showers with partitions and a thin curtain that provided an impression of privacy.
Rowe headed for the right hand one, drawing the curtain behind her. She quickly slipped out of her gravy stained fatigues, reaching down to pull off her socks, then she caught her reflection in the mirror and froze.
Slowly, carefully, she straightened up, her eyes locked on her own reflection as she did so. Her belly was as flat as it had been before her mammoth meal, but she already knew that. But two other things were grabbing her attention.
Rowe had always been totally flat chested, with ribs visible beneath pale skin.
But not anymore.
Busty was the first word that came to her mind. They were big and firm, pert and beautiful. Her nipples now crowned a wonderfully formed, large set of mammaries. She wasn't up to Brennan's standards, but these breasts were definitely much bigger than average. Cautiously she raised her hands to cradle them. Even her own nervous touch felt good as her skinny fingers explored her new flesh.
Her fatigues had felt tight across the chest and now she knew why, though there was no way she could have missed these monsters when she got changed back in the sickbay. She cupped her hands around one breast. They felt so firm and so good. Surely she should have noticed the weight of them? Why were they not hurting her back?
The shower temporarily forgotten, Rowe admired her new figure from a few different angles in the mirror. Whilst her new breasts were easily the most striking feature of her new body, she could see other pronounced improvements as well. She was no longer all skinny and bony. Where before her arms and legs had looked painfully thin, now they looked slender and toned. Her hips were broader, infinitely more feminine. Her ass was fuller, clearly defined and extremely attractive. Even her face looked better, healthier, with fuller lips and more radiant hair. Her hair, which had always been a mousy strawberry blonde tangle, now seemed to fall in a sheen of red curls.
For a moment she enjoyed admiring herself in the mirror, not knowing what was happening, but knowing that she liked it. But than a terrible realisation sunk in. Whatever was doing this to her, however wonderful it was, Brennan could not find out.
Knowing that she had to keep her new body a secret she showered as quickly as she could, dried herself off frantically and slipped on her clean fatigues. They had been baggy, and still hid much of her body, but even with generous clothing it would be hard to hide her new chest. She draped a towel over her shoulders, gripping it with her hand so that it largely hid her growing bosom. She looked at herself in the mirror. Other than her hair, she could pass as her old self. “New hair dye,” she muttered the excuse to herself, hoping it would sound convincing if anyone commented on the change.
Satisfied that she wouldn't give herself away, she quickly left the shower block and hurried back to her room. She passed a few people in the corridor, one or two of whom she recognised, but none of them seemed to notice anything different about her. She reached her quarters and stepped inside, shutting the door behind her. She took a deep breath. Now what was she going to do?
Brennan lay with her head on Dupont's massive chest, her left hand resting on the hard muscles of his abdomen, her thigh resting on his dormant member. “That was fun,” she said with a smile. The bed beneath them, only installed a few minutes before, had again been reduced to shattered splinters.
“So, who’s bicep was bigger than mine? Not a human’s of course.”
Brennan laughed, propping herself up on one elbow so that her massive breasts were poised close to Dupont's face. “Are you still worrying about that?” She giggled. “Are we feeling a bit delicate today?”
Dupont scowled irritably. “I'm not being precious. I know my muscles are superb. I'm just curious.”
“I never ask you if you've had someone with bigger boobs than mine?” Brennan leaned back to emphasise her chest, running her hands playfully across her pale, flawless skin.
“Okay, fine, I'm sorry if I'm being a bit precious. Whose biceps are bigger than mine?”
Brennan laughed. “My assassin, silly!”
Dupont chuckled. “Of course, I should have known! Which reminds me of why I'm here!”
Brennan nodded, draping herself back across his gigantic body. “So why are you here?”
“I've been sent to reprogramme your assassin …”