Source: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/13961113/

Journey to Earth
By Xerox2

“What’s a smart, talented girl like you doing stuck in a place like this?”

“Flattery or no, boy, you still have to pay,”  Jasmine cooed, Her face against the client’s shoulder. He lifted up his assistant, a small computer about the same size and shape as a business card, and flicked it. A chime rang from Jasmine’s pouch on the floor, her own assistant indicating that sufficient payment had been made. She relaxed and began to carefully undo the man’s zippers. He had introduced himself as Clint.

“Flattery nothing.” Clint grinned, running a hand through her voluminous red hair. “Call me an inquisitive mind.” She never understood why travelers always thought they had to put up an act. She was a prostitute, after all; it didn’t bother her that most people didn’t really care about her at all.

Her practiced hands snaked into his jumpsuit and cradled his dick as he freed his broad shoulders. “Debt,” She said simply, his penis already growing in her hands, ”and dreams.” She flinched inwardly. Steering the conversation that way was a novice mistake. Her tongue parted her luscious, full lips and licked the underside of his penis as she gracefully finished disrobing him.

Jasmine looked fantastic, but it was only a matter of regulation. She had used a CAP, a popular type of universal genetic plastic surgery, usually in pill form, to achieve her looks. Jasmine had chosen Tits’N’Ass, a popular brand for whores. Any given CAP would have slightly different results depending on the person who took it, but the general effects were the same. Within two days of taking Tits’N’Ass, Jasmine’s breasts had expanded from a modest B-cup to the generous yet pert DDs Clint was now caressing. He ran his hands down her flat belly and over her perfectly sculpted, sizable rear end, also a product of the CAP. Her pouty, full lips wrapped around the head of his penis and blushed a deeper shade of red in response to the erotic touch.  She looked like a 21st century supermodel, but to the citizens, people exposed to CAPs and their effects since birth, the cheapness of her brand and the nature of her changes immediately marked her as a prostitute.

Clint’s head dropped against the pillow and he let out a sigh. “Dreams huh? Lemme guess, you wanna--” he gasped as Jasmine worked her lips up and down his shaft, teasing the tip of his penis with her tongue. “You wanna leave Amiga station?” She paused momentarily, then continued her ministrations, raising her hands up to cradle his balls.

“Mhmm.” she responded. Clint felt the vibrations of her hummed yes travel through his penis, and considered asking more yes or no questions. Jasmine noticed his reaction and tasted a drop of pre run down from the back of her throat. No, it was a bit too soon for him to cum, she thought. With a slurp, she let it fall from her mouth and crawled up his body. Her permanently hairless pussy was already dripping with the enhanced spermicidal anti-STD lubricant her body produced now. Men always seemed to love the smell of it.

Clint groaned and relaxed as Jasmine rested the lips of her pussy against his penis. “Well you know what they say. The grass is always greener. . .” She undulated her hips and the tip of his dick nestled into the entrance of her passage. With a very real moan, she slowly impaled herself on his member. Thankfully, the CAP ensured that she always felt enough pleasure to not have to act aroused.

Their conversation halted as she continued her work. While Clint was lost in pleasure, Jasmine concentrated on her craft. If he came too quickly he wouldn’t leave a good tip, but if he took too long she would waste time she could be spending with another client or worse: he might get bored. Her pussy was sensitive enough to feel how hard he was, and as she plunged up and down she used that ability to detect how close he was to orgasm. When she felt his girth increase, his muscles strain, she’d expertly keep him just on the edge of orgasm. Some men would beg for release, and she liked that. Clint, however, didn’t seem to be the begging type. He grasped her shoulders and rolled her over so her back pressed against the auto-cleaning bedspread. He took control and began furiously pounding into her. Jasmine enjoyed this even more than the beginning, though, because this meant that it wouldn’t be long until he finished.

Sure enough, he soon grasped her and hilted himself inside her. She felt every twitch of his cock, and each spurt cum as it filled her. So much cum that it dribbled out of her and onto the bed. She noted that he must have taken a CumX CAP at some point. He rolled over and laid beside her on the bed, panting. “You’re good at what you do. At this rate it’ll only take you, what, five years to afford the Legitimizer?” Jasmine’s heart sunk when she heard the word. The Legitimizer was a CAP that reversed the effects of the Prostitution CAP she had taken. Using one would be necessary if she ever wanted to leave sex work, but they cost five times as much as the initial conversion CAP, and she had needed to take out a loan to even afford that.

“More like seven,” She murmured, feeling the cum dripping out of her “You mentioned grass earlier. . .What is it?”

Clint looked at her with amusement. “You’ve never heard of grass? Damn, you have spent too long on this station.” A tinny-sounding alert erupted from his assistant on the floor. He silenced it with an, “Acknowledged.”

Jasmine recognized that sound. “You have a ship?” she asked, suddenly intrigued.

“Oh yeah,” he smirked, “It’s not much. Just an old asteroid miner. I got a load of cargo I need to haul over to Earth.” The captain glanced over. Jasmine was staring at the ceiling. He sighed, “Tell you what. Let’s cut a deal.”

“A deal?”

“You come with me to Earth. Travel time is a year and I’m bound to get  lonely. Once we get there, I’ll give you a Legitimizer and you’ll be free to go.”

Jasmine’s eyes went wide. “Seriously?” She asked, giving him a sideways glance. “Sounds like a waste of money.”

Clint chuckled, “Not really. You don’t cost me much as an extra passenger, and I happen to already be in possession of a Legitimizer.” If  he was being honest, she would be able to get out of prostitution years before she anticipated, and with a free trip to Earth to boot! The planet was almost a legend to her.

“I want to see it,” she said seriously. “The ship and the pill.”

And she did. Fifteen hours later, Clint met her near her living quarters to escort her to his ship. Amiga station, as backwards as it was, had a very safe legal prostitution system, and she never feared for her safety or health with a client. The downside was that lone prostitutes in public were always considered “on-duty” and available to be approached. His presence as a guide also insured that she wouldn’t be propositioned by a potential client.

“Some people would call her old, but I prefer the term ‘faithful,’” he explained as they walked along a catwalk above the bustle of the hanger. The ship was massive, but then again all spacecraft were. A more practiced eye would have seen the subtle flaws: the loose fuel cap, the scuffed lights, the way the anti-matter engines rattled as they idled, but to Jasmine it looked perfect. As soon as a dockworker addressed Clint as Captain, she was sold. Almost.

“Where’s the Legitimizer?” She asked, interrupting Clint’s spiel.

The captain produced a small package from his coat and tossed it to her as he continued. “Just replaced that asymptotic induction delimiter there. Cost me a fortune, can you believe it?”

The moment Jasmine examined the package she was intoxicated with hope. Inside was a new, sealed Legitimizer CAP just as Clint had promised. She should have known it was too good to be true, but the promises were just too lofty, and the evidence she’d been shown was too real. She couldn’t help but be lured onto his ship, into adventure, prosperity.

She had no one to say goodbye to and little to pack. The next day she sat in the cockpit as they departed the station. Morale was high in the ship as they struck out. Clint seemed incredibly glad to have her aboard, and of course she was nearly exploding from excitement. Jasmine felt obligated to fulfill her end of the bargain as well as Clint had his, and so she gladly serviced him whenever he felt the need. Her enhanced sex drive made her job aboard the ship enjoyable, even.

Three sleep cycles into their voyage and directly following an intense fucking, their ship docked with another in deep space. “Business meeting,” explained Clint. “You can tag along.”  Jasmine accepted the offer, and soon they were standing in the airlock being decontaminated together.  Clint sported his standard leather captain’s jumpsuit, and she was wearing an incredibly sexy business casual jumpsuit he had given her.  Her hand squeezed his nervously as they waited for the doors to open. She was still very new to all this excitement and adventure, after all. This was the first time she had left the station, and the whole experience seemed completely surreal. Luckily Clint was there to ensure that everything went smoothly.

The airlock hissed as the large blast doors began to open. The misty decontamination vapor was drawn from the room via the vents on the floor. A robotic voice chimed, “Welcome aboard.” There were four people visible on the far side of the door as it clacked open loudly. Their imposing figures were draped with expensive plant-based natural fiber clothes. The largest, farthest forward one wore a large wide-brimmed hat and had clearly consumed his fair share of CAPs. He was absolutely massive with grey rubbery skin, and a stingered tail -- not unlike a ray’s -- which whipped excitedly about behind him. His sculpted face broke into a horrible fanged smile.

“Clint. . .” he rumbled. Jasmine could feel the word vibrate in her chest. He raised his hand and with a quick, practiced movement they drew their weapons.  One looked something like a circular-saw launcher, another seemed to be a handheld gatling gun filled with railroad spikes.  Each one was grizzlier than the last, and all of them were pointed straight at Clint and Jasmine.

Following Clint’s lead, Jasmine folded her hands behind her head. The stringray-like leader pointed a meaty finger at her, and seconds later she was face-down on the ground with her hands and feet tied behind her. She turned her eyes to the Captain hoping he would have some sort of escape plan. Her heart sunk as she saw him relax and smile.

“Pojo, you big, slimy, son-of-a-bog.” it was a term of endearment. He knew them?

The boss turned to him, “Excellent work, Clint-scum. She seems able-bodied and will make an excellent slave.”

“What can I say,” he chuckled, “I pick ‘em well.”

Jasmine saw red. “You egg-sucking bitch! I’ll kill you, Clint! I --” She felt a sharp shock as one of the goons pressed his assistant against her neck, and she found herself unable to make a sound. The prostitute collapsed and struggled around helplessly on the vented floor of the airlock.

Pojo stepped past her and up to Clint, who was about chest-level to the massive thug. “Now. Where’s the second one?”

His words hung in the air, and a drop of sweat formed at Clint’s brow. “Coming,” he assured. “Give me one more week. I’ll have another for you.”

“I’m not going to BE here next week!” Roared the leader. He slammed Clint against the wall, and held him there with a single massive hand.

Clint took a few wheezing breaths, legs kicking in the air under him.  “I owe 250k. You said each girl was worth 125k. That’s half my debt.”  He groaned, “You never said I had to get both to you at the same time.”

“It was implied,” growled the thug, pushing the barb of his tail against Clint’s throat. “You’ll just have to fill in for her.” At those words his minions raised their guns again, this time pointed at Clint. “Search him for weapons, take the ship.”

“You can’t do this!” the suspended captain complained as he was patted down.

“One knife, one CAP, captain. Looks like a legitimizer,” reported the thug doing the search.

“A legitimizer? Bait? A clever ruse.” He examined the cap and tossed it to another crew member. “Hock this for fuel money.”

Tears formed in Jasmine’s eyes as she was placed on a stretcher. Her dreams were rapidly crumbling in front of her. The giant wrenched Clint’s arms behind him, causing him to cry out in pain. Soon he was detained as well. The boss stroked his cheek, “You’ll make me a lot of money, Clint. You’ll have to get used to not being a worthless sack of shit when you’re giving me Koban eggs!”

Clint groaned. “Koban eggs? You’re making us gather their eggs? You may as well shoot us now!”

“Gather them?” Pojo laughed “A 50% worker fatality rate is very bad business, Clint, even with slaves.” He stood, “No, you two will be producing the eggs. None of those horrible acid-spitting warrior Kobans to worry about.”

“Impossible. If it were that easy some megacorp would already be doing it.”

“We’re going to be that megacorp, fool. We’re going legitimate!” beamed the beastly gangster.

Jasmine’s head was stuffed into a black sack, and Pojo’s ranting became quieter and quieter as she was carried away. She wished she had never believed that stupid captain’s lies. She was safe on the station, but now she was in deep space. Her bosses would never come looking for her. A feeling of inescapable doom welled up inside of her, followed by hopelessness. She let herself be carried around. Eventually she was laid down on what felt like a metal table. Her wrists, ankles, and head were secured so she couldn’t move.

When her head was finally freed from the bag, she was staring at an older gentleman in glasses. He was dressed in the traditional red robes of a doctor, and a smile was plastered on his face, “Ah, such a shame. Beautiful women always seem to be the ones fate is cruelest to.” He moved out of her sight, but Jasmine couldn’t turn her head to look at him. She heard metal instruments clicking off to the side. “I heard we got your kidnapper, though, so there will be some justice for you. And look on the bright side: you’re going to pioneer an entirely new, incredibly expensive CAP!

“You see,” he continued, “This gang kidnapped me a few months ago. We had just finished CAPs K1912 and K1913, two of the four we needed to produce Koban eggs in mass. You see, Kobans have a very complicated reproductive cycle. All three of their genders and at least one food-drone are required to begin egg production. These thugs managed to capture the two we haven’t made capsules for. Don’t ask me how they did it.” The doctor’s hands entered her field of vision, each one carrying a CAP. They were both white with a small number printed along the side, very nondescript for a CAP. “Now you have two options. If you’re good and swallow when you’re asked I’ll give you K1912. If you give me any trouble, the goons out there will use force, and I’ll have them feed you K1913. You don’t want that.”

She opened her mouth obediently. Jasmine didn’t doubt that they could force her to take a cap, and as far as she could tell this scientist didn’t have anything against her. She felt the CAP drop into her mouth. Her heart raced, realizing the weight of what she was about to do. With only a moment’s hesitation, she gathered saliva in her mouth and swallowed.

The doctor sat up and touched his assistant. “Good choice. K1913 will go to your ‘friend,’ then.” The door opened and the bag was put over her head again. “Have fun siring an army of eggs!” he called after her. She felt a dizziness come on and lost consciousness.

**

When Jasmine awoke, she was in complete blackness. As she shakily rose to a sitting position, she found that she had been freed from the bindings on her hands and feet. The room she was in was alien, the ground uneven, and the sound of dripping water echoed into her ears from somewhere nearby. The air was hot and heavy, as some poorly ventilated rooms on Amiga station got after a long shower.  Her heart raced as gasped for breath in the humidity. Carefully, she shifted to her hands and knees and felt her way around the area. As she shuffled along, she scraped her knees on the rough, textured ground. It reminded her of the decorative rocks she had seen in the abandoned zoo back on the station. Was this room made of rocks? Soon she came to a wall and began to follow it. Her fingertips traced along the edge and across the ground in front of her.

She could feel a tingling feeling in the depths of her stomach. The CAP was already starting to work. Even if she could get out, she didn’t even know if an antidote to reverse it existed. Her belly groaned and gurgled as she massaged it. There were changes happening inside of her. Things were shifting slowly beneath her skin. She could even feel movement inside with her fingertips if she pushed hard. The pins and needles sensation spread upwards to her voluptuous breasts and down to her pussy, which immediately started to get wet. It was a very calming, pleasurable feeling. As horrifying as the implications were, she found it relaxing.

Jasmine fumbled along the wall, her breasts bouncing between her arms as she crawled. She tried to cry for help, but found that her voice was still disabled. She passed protrusions and puddles as she went, and began to fall into a absent, meditative state. As the hours passed, she slowly came to realize she had been traveling in circles; there was no exit to this room. Her heart sunk, and she again collapsed to the floor, exhausted. There was something different about the way her weight shifted as she fell to the ground. It was her breasts! They were smaller than they were before. In fact, as she raised her hands to them, she found that there was barely anything to touch. It was the first outward sign of her impending transformation.

The heat in her pussy had continued to grow as she explored. Occasionally her vaginal muscles spasmed uncontrollably, tightening and releasing after a couple seconds. Each release was accompanied by a dribble of liquid from her opening. They became more and more frequent, and more liquid spilled from her each time the muscles relaxed. As the frequency and intensity of the spasms increased, so did the pleasure they brought her. Her fingers rubbed her needy privates. Her vaginal passage had swollen and extended from her crotch a bit in a form that reminded the prostitute of a prolapse, but this was not painful or damaging. She knew it was alteration from the CAP, and only the beginning.

**

Clint felt terrible. After they dragged Jasmine away he had been tortured for control of his ship, and his throat was still sore from when they had forced that CAP into him. But for all the physical pain he was in, it was his guilt that hurt him the most now. It hadn’t been easy for him to betray his companion. He had grown to really like her, and if he could have he would have upheld his part of the bargain. He wanted to see Earth now more than ever. The moment woke up in complete darkness he had started thrashing around, pounding on the walls in a futile attempt to escape, but now he was tired.  He felt his way around the cave. The textured faux-rocks reminded him of a terrarium or zoo enclosure. Was this to be his new ‘environment?’

To make matters worse, his abdomen was starting to go numb from the pill he had ingested. A tingling sensation was moving down his stomach and into his groin. The skin of his penis and balls grew flush with heat, and soon he began to sweat. Memories of his time with Jasmine filled his mind, and he grew more and more aroused. There was a sensation of pleasant pressure that increased with each heartbeat, and soon his penis grew erect. His hand stroked the length, and his pubic hair fell to the ground as he brushed it. A wave of itchiness passed over his body and he brushed off his hair as though it wasn’t attached to his body. Now he was completely hairless, beard and all. Clint felt a tickle down the front of his erect penis. His fingers detected a small stream of pre-cum dribbling from the tip. Never in his life had he seen more than a few drops at a time, but now it was trickling down his shaft all the way down to his balls and down to the floor. Lust clouding his mind, he wrapped his hand around his shaft and stroked. The sensations were fantastic, and his penis felt larger and harder than it had ever been in his life. Checking again, he realized that it really had grown. It was a least two inches longer than it had been before, and it was much thicker. He almost had a hard time wrapping his hand around the base of it. The glans at the end of it was starting to disappear, and his foreskin was retracting.

First they had stolen his ship, now they were stealing his very humanity. Still the lust grew, and the small dribble of pre continued running down his changing penis. Clint fumbled about in the darkness, stroking his changing dick absently as his mind raced desperately in circles searching for some solution, some hope in this horrible situation. His length itself seemed to be especially restless, twitching away as he fumbled with it. It had began to move in very inhuman ways; writhing and bending a bit, and if he concentrated, he found that he could control the motions. His urethra repositioned itself to the very tip as a more circular opening that he could open and close at will. Finally, the shaft became segmented almost like the body of an earthworm. In only a couple hours, his genitals were replaced with a tapering, alien length that wriggled and searched as though it had a mind of its own.

His consciousness faded in and out as he slumped against the wall absorbed in the sensations of his altering anatomy. Some time later a strange scraping sound shook him from his stupor and drew his attention between his legs, where slick but tough insectoid flesh had began to creep up his stomach. His penis was as it had been earlier, and his ballsack was still present, but seemed a bit larger, though he couldn’t feel his testicles. His legs were immobile, and had shrunk as they reformed.  He tried to move his arms in front of him to investigate, but it seemed that they were somehow bound to the wall behind him. No doubt they had changed completely. He was now immobile.

One positive was that the cave seemed to be growing ever so slightly brighter. He could make out the rocks a short distance away from him as well as the source of the scratching noise, a small caterpillar-esque alien creature that was milling about between his legs. Its glossy white skin and insect-like legs were certainly Koban-esque, but it looked nothing like the holos of the aliens he had seen in the documentaries. The full-grown ones were giant hulking acid-spitting brutes. Perhaps this was a larvae? Its belly seemed to bulge with eggs, but they were much smaller than any Koban eggs he had seen, and this was certainly no queen. Its legs produced little high frequency clicks as it moved about that Clint could feel through his altered genitalia. The “sound” was like that of rocks clacking against each other while one’s ears are submerged. His tubular penis responded, stretching against his will toward the source of the sound. To his horror, the alien seemed to sense his presence and made its way toward him.

Clint struggled, but he was stuck fast to the wall and could do nothing as the creature climbed up his swollen sack toward the tip of his dick. He screamed inwardly as its blunt head pushed against his pursing tip, and, with the aid of the lubricant that had been dripping from him, slipped inside. His opening squeezed around the larva as it entered him, its tiny legs scrambling and digging into his flesh to find purchase. It should have hurt, but all he felt was overwhelming pleasure. His mouth went slack as his strange alien length contracted around the invader, only serving to coax it farther and farther inside. As quickly as the koban had appeared, its swollen abdomen disappeared into him. His new urethra gaped slightly as he watched the wriggling bulge move deeper inside.

He wondered where the creature would end up. Was it going to eat him from the inside out? Would it tear him apart as it traveled through his bladder? To his surprise, he felt it take a downward turn as it neared the base of his length, and started moving directly into his ballsack. Clearly his plumbing had completely changed. All his knowledge of his own body was no longer relevant, he realized. How could he even consider the fleshy pouch at the base of his length a ballsack? He wasn’t even sure he even had testicles anymore. He could see the outline of the alien as more and more of it was deposited into his scrotum, and his pale segmented skin stretched easily to accommodate it. The last few inches slipped inside, and the orgasmic pleasure that clouded his mind was replaced with a strange contented fullness. It relaxed him to feel the creature moving about as it repositioned itself within him. It finished its journey by squeezing itself a few inches up a passage that led toward his belly. There was a pinch of pain from his lower stomach, and the movement stopped.

The ex-captain thought about earth as he sat helplessly in the cave. He tried to close his drooling mouth or shout, but he couldn’t. Soon no one would recognize him, he thought. Even if one of his friends was standing right in front of him, he wouldn’t be able to ask for help or make a motion. His muscles had deteriorated to the point where he could barely jiggle his body, and he could feel his skin crawl as it hardened and split into chitinous plates and supple white flesh. For the first time, he felt truly doomed. There would be no clever plans or tricks to save himself this time. He would probably never leave this cave again, and he wasn’t even sure if his new body could survive laying in the grassy fields back home.

He felt  the creature inside him twitch and a relief of pressure as it began to release its eggs into what was once his scrotum. As good as it felt, he hoped this new symbiote wasn’t the only company he’d have in his new life as an incubator.

**

Jasmine’s mouth watered hungerly as she stopped exploring and leaned against the cave wall. It wasn’t that she was tired, in fact she felt more energetic than ever. It was just that her changes had made it difficult to move, and it wasn’t like there was much to see anyway, dark as it was. Her fingers had almost fully retracted into her hand, and her hips were beginning to narrow and disappear, making locomotion almost impossible. Her feet had reformed into hardened points, and she figured there was no sense in trying to learn how to walk on them until she had finished changing. Her teeth had fallen out hours ago, and her breasts had completely disappeared. Still she managed to fend off panic and crushing feelings of helplessness. She was sure she was safe now that she was extremely valuable, and besides she felt healthier than she ever had been in her life. Intellectually, It did seem odd that she was so relaxed about her situation, but it was probably better than freaking out and hurting herself. Regardless, a gnawing hunger had developed with her changes.

Now that her hands were gone, the only method she possessed to examine herself was with the tendril-like appendage the had replaced her pussy. It was perhaps two feet in length and still had an opening at the end, though she found she had the ability to close it at will. Her new reproductive organs were fully prehensile, and indeed seemed more sensitive than ever before. By sweeping and probing with it she was able to monitor her changes. It seemed to have replaced her asshole as well, extending straight down from the end of her body. She bent forward and probed her face with it. Her eyes were larger, and her general head shape was becoming less and less human. Drool dripped from her mouth as she parted her newly vertical lips. Opening and closing her mouth consciously was impossible now, but she could push the tendril inside with only slight pressure. Although she received no sexual pleasure from her new mouthparts, it contended her to have them filled.

It would probably be another day or so before she was finished changing, the former sexworker mused as she sucked on her ovipositor. Wasn’t she still a sex worker, though? Presumably she was going to be swelling with eggs soon, yet she hadn’t had any contact with other Koban. The doctor had mentioned that four colony members were required to produce the eggs Perhaps she would be able to communicate with the other three when she met them and formulate an escape plot. A rumbling unlike anything Jasmine had ever heard came from her stomach, and her thoughts again turned to food. How would she eat like this? She certainly couldn’t chew without jaws.

That’s when she smelled it. Her nostrils were now nothing more than slits beneath her eyes, but the sweet, fatty scent hit her like a truck nonetheless. Her length slipped from her mouth with a slurping sound and she craned her head and neck about to find the source.

The delicious meaty scent seemed to emanate from the ground nearby. As she hobbled to it on all fours, Jasmine’s hunger nearly overwhelmed her. She still could not see in the blackness, but she determined that the source seemed to be a small puddle of liquid. She had expected to be fed something more substantial, perhaps a carcass or a bowl of Koban-feed, but this seemed a lot less threatening and more appetizing to her anyway. She dipped her mouth to the ground, but as hard as she tried, she couldn’t seem to suck the liquid into her mouth. She tried to lap it up with her tongue only to find that she no longer seemed to have one. In a last ditch effort she swung her hindquarters around, dipped her new reproductive tendril into the liquid, and popped it into her mouth. The replicator back on the station had been capable of producing almost any food imaginable, but she had never experienced anything that tasted one tenth as delicious as the gravy-like liquid that now coated her mouth. It didn’t seem like a very efficient way to eat, but she eagerly dipped her length in again and again, and soon the small puddle was empty. Frustratingly, she found that her tiny taste of the foodstuff had only served to redouble her hunger.

Then, in the sea of inky blackness that filled her vision appeared a tiny point of light. At first she was thought she was mistaken, but she looked again and sure enough there, on a stalagmite only inches from her face was a nearly microscopic glow. The development was enough to make her forget about how famished she was for a moment, and she moved her face against the rock to examine it closer. The speck was travelling about in a very organic sort of way. Jasmine had seen richer party-goers with tattoos and skin that glowed back home from time to time. Perhaps this was a little mite that naturally had that sort of luminescence to it. Many CAPs were based on attributes of alien creatures, she supposed. She spotted another near the first and watched with rapt fascination as the two bumped into each other and then each changed direction and continued on without missing a beat. Each second, the lights grew a bit brighter and brighter. A third appeared, then a fourth, a fifth! More and more of the mites appeared until the face of the rock was easy to distinguish from the floor, and before long the entire cave was glittering.

Now that the cave was comfortably lit, she could explore it in earnest. Balancing on the hard points of her arms and legs, she hobbled about and made a mental map. The area was fairly small; it only took her a few minutes to walk around the outside. Sure enough there were no visible exits, although there were some creases in the walls that suggested there may be passages someone could open and close. As the hunger pangs returned, she returned to site of the food puddle. There seemed to be a small trickle that led into the puddle. she followed it up a stalagmite, but couldn’t find a source until a droplet fell right onto the back of her head. Looking up, she was startled to discover a strange creature clinging to the ceiling. It was completely alien with a simple circular in shape and eight sucker-like feet holding it in place. Its chitinous plates and smooth pale flesh were much like hers. Her initial fear faded to curiosity as she realized that it was one of the other Kobans. It struck her as odd that knowing it was a member of a fearsome untamable beast species put her at ease, but she felt a sort of kinship and safety from its presence.

The foodstuff was dripping from a crease in the center of the alien. Jasmine eagerly positioned herself beneath it, parting her lips with one limb and allowing it to fall into her mouth. She let out an impatient churr which seemed to trigger a reaction in the critter. A long, twisting appendage slipped from the crease in the Koban’s center and extended toward her. It probed at her face as if searching, and before she could consider whether or not to leave, it found her he mouth and pushed inside. Her body offered no resistance as it continued to extend down her throat. Her gag reflex seemed to have gone with her tongue, and the tendril slipped easily down and down before finally reaching her stomach. She could feel a wonderful warmth fill her as it deposited nourishment directly into her digestive system. Jasmine, for the first time in a long time, felt cared for and satisfied. All too soon the tentacle slid back out of her mouth, leaving her full and comfortable. She had a feeling that she would get along quite well with this new friend.

The hours passed slowly as Jasmine completed her transformation. Her lower back and sides were banded with armor-like plates, while her underside remained soft and pliable. Two new limbs that were long, segmented,and simple like those of an insect grew from her sides. Her lower limbs changed to match, but her upper arms grew razor sharp almost like a mantis’s. She found that moving on all six limbs was most comfortable. Soon she was scuttering accross the wall and even the ceiling, though she feel once or twice trying to learn how. To her surprise, she developed three new sets of breasts on her back that jiggled and hung as she moved about. They seemed to be roughly the same size as her old ones. Her spine and neck seemed to be reconfigured to face forward while walking on all six legs, and though she could no longer see her face, she knew it had changed into a mandibled alien visage. Her ovipositor extended two or three feet behind her when she stretched it out, and seemed to serve as her only means of fine object manipulation (although she didn’t see much use for tools anymore). Her new form was lithe and full of energy, a far cry from the bloated termite queen she had pictured in her mind as she started to change. If someone were to find her now, they would never have been able to tell that she was once human.

Yet she was restless. She felt as though there was work to be done. The koban attached to the ceiling fed her whenever she was hungry and it seemed that she no longer needed to worry about drinking water as she hadn’t been thirsty in what felt like days. The food source didn’t turn out to be very good company, and she was lonely. Trying out her new vocal chords had entertained her for a few hours. Screeching, chittering, churring, groaning, and sputtering seemed to be all she was capable of now, but she hardly missed her vocal chords. Before when she spoke, it had always been bullshit to please some customer anyway. She felt freed from the obligations of speech and social hierarchy.

The next day (or so she assumed, as time seemed to have no purpose down here and there was no way to follow it without clocks or lights emulating night and day as there had been on the station), something about the cave had changed. A passageway to another section had opened as Jasmine hung from the ceiling asleep. She explored the new area carefully and determined it to be about as large as her section of the cave, thereby doubling her space. Excited as she was about the new room, she was doubly excited to find yet another Koban. This one was about half her size, and about half of its mass was comprised of an enormous abdominal sack that hung to the ground. While the feeding drone had the ability to scoot about the walls and ceiling with its little sucker feet as it scraped the rocks for mites, the new creature seemed permanently attached to the wall by a hard translucent glue-like substance. Its little pointed insect legs writhed about in front of it uselessly as its insectoid head tracked her movements. Occasionally one of its limbs would stroke the ovipositor that emerged from the point where its abdomen and thorax met. It was as thick as her own, but a bit shorter. The opening at its tip glistened with lubricant that she found strangely alluring.

She approached the immobile drone and stroked it with her bladed arms to examine it. It had an awfully familiar scent to it. . . Calonge! Beneath the musky scents of sex and spicy tones of the oils that covered its flesh, she picked out the distinctly fruity flavors of that horrible fragrance that Clint wore. Was this the dashing, silver tongued man who betrayed her? It must be. She raised her front leg to its neck threateningly as her curiosity turned to a white-hot rage. She knew she could chop him into tiny bits and pieces right then and there as punishment. She pressed against his neck and hissed threateningly, drawing droplets of milky white blood. A powerful new smell occurred as she did so, one that seemed to communicate fear and subservience. He was begging for his life, she thought, even if he didn’t know how he was doing it, he was.

Slowly she withdrew from the monster that had been Clint. If he wished to live out the rest of his days as an immobile living egg-sack barely capable of pleading for its own life, so be it. She had to admit there was something pleasing about seeing him like this, something . . . arousing. Maybe it was his pale, bulging abdomen or perhaps it was his drooling sexual organs. She neared him again, placed her legs on the wall to either side of him and lifted herself so that her own ovipositor was on the same level as his and his head rested just above her fleshy underbelly. It was a remarkably comfortable position; she felt like she could remain here for days if she had to. She extended her length and rubbed against Clint’s new, alien body. There was no denying it now, she was horny as hell.

Clint seemed frozen, his length reached up toward her own, its tip open and inviting. Curious about how to go about the act, she entwined her organs around his and began to squeeze and stroke. It certainly felt pleasurable. She fell into a rhythm and for a time the touch satisfied her, but eventually she grew frustrated. The sensations were like those she received when she used to play with her nipples as a human. It felt good, but it was a far cry from full blown sex. She enjoyed the warmth from where their ovipositors touched, but felt needy in the parts that weren’t. To make matters worse, she had an itching feeling of emptiness, a desire to be filled. She unwound her length from his and pressed her tip against his. To her surprise, she felt herself beginning to enter him. His walls pulsed and squeezed around her as she pressed in deeper and deeper, and pleasure flooded her mind with each passing inch. That was how it was done, she thought.

Her tendril was longer than his, and before long her tip reached the base of his ovipositor. She encountered no resistance as she pushed deeper, down directly inside of his swollen sac. Her organ pressed against the eggs inside him. He was full of dozens of slimy spherical objects, some larger than others. She rubbed each one, examining it in turn before going to the next. She found that the deeper she reached, the smaller the eggs seemed to get. Waves of orgasmic pleasure washed over her as she hilted herself within him. Looking down, she could see the outline of her exploring length pressing against the inside of his abdomen. As wonderful as the act felt, there was still an emptiness, a yearning to be filled. She returned to the larger eggs near the top of his sack and, quite by instinct, pressed her tip against the largest one. She a fantastic stretching sensation as her ovipositor opened up and the egg popped inside. She squeezed and groaned as her muscles guided the egg up her length and into her belly with a series of powerful mind-numbing contractions.

Exhausted, she slowly withdrew from Clint. His length flopped down against his sack, stretched and abused, but Jasmine had a feeling he had enjoyed the act just as much as she had. Her belly swelled slightly with the presence of the egg. It reassured her. She crawled up to the ceiling and fell into a deep slumber.

Time passed. The feeding drone seemed suited to provide her and the incubator that used to be Clint with nourishment. She was restless, but enjoyed watching her midsection swell as the egg slowly developed. The six breast-like sacs on her back grew with the egg, filling with some sort of nourishment. In a matter of days, they felt heavy and full, and her stomach stretched the point of almost being translucent. Laying the egg was just as pleasurable as taking it inside her. She squeezed it out slowly but without much trouble. The whole process did not tire her at all. Instead she felt proud and even more energetic now that she was lighter. The egg itself was soft and covered in thick, vein-like structures. The liquid that accompanied it seemed to be the same sort of glue that attached Clint to the wall. Having it on the floor made her a bit uncomfortable, so she loosened it by rubbing her saliva on it and then placed it up in a nook on the ceiling. She couldn’t wait for it to hatch and relieve the pressure of her breasts.  The next time she mated with Clint, she took two eggs at once.

A few layings and many feedings later, something terrible happened. There was a loud noise and a bright flash of light that blinded Jasmine. She tried to rush to her eggs to protect them, but she felt weak and dizzy and collapsed to the ground. When she came to, her eggs were gone. The only sign of the invaders was a terrible stench along the path they took to her eggs. She wailed and screeched with anguish. All of her care and efforts for her offspring had been for naught. They would have hatched into terrible acid-spitting monsters, but she cared for them as her children. They had been harvested like nothing more than plants or hunks of meat. In the coming weeks she slowly rebuilt her collection of eggs, and it happened again. Her full breasts ached almost as much as her heart.

She scurried about her enclosure, thinking, fuming. If they would not allow her to hatch her eggs, then she would need to hatch a plot. Each time the humans came in, she was thoroughly disabled. Her drones were loyal to her, but they certainly couldn’t defend her. Years ago she had heard tales of the horrific, deadly Koban. They were fearsome, impossible to conquer, creatures that spat and acid that could eat through the toughest armors. They were supposed to be impervious to anything less than a fusion bomb, but she felt vulnerable, weak. Perhaps she wasn’t the right type? She needed guards, or better yet, warriors. But how would she hatch them without the eggs being taken away?

The challenge perplexed her. In the coming cycles between harvests she tried new ways of hiding her eggs. She tried digging a little hole for an egg and covering it with a rock, but they found it. She tried carrying an egg with her by gluing it to her underbelly, but they simply took it while she was disabled. Finally, in desperation, she had an idea. The next time she was ready to birth, she laid all but one of her eggs on the ground, then she approached Clint with her belly already occupied. She settled into the now familiar mating position, her length deep inside of him, but instead of drawing an egg inside of herself, she pushed. It was a risky plan. She hoped it wouldn’t injure Clint (the eggs were much larger when she laid than they were when she removed them from Clint), but she would have to try regardless. He screeched in pain as the egg stretched his passage impossibly, and Jasmine cooed, chittered, and stroked him to calm him. When she finished and withdrew, Clint’s passage seemed limp and damaged. She regretted her decision to hide the egg within him at first, but he healed very quickly.

When she awoke after the eighth harvest cycle, she dizzily rose to her legs and scurried over to Clint. Sure enough, the fully developed egg remained in his sac. They had missed it. She worked doubly hard to carry more and more eggs at once so the harvesters wouldn’t notice any missing. Each clutch was four eggs, a number that she got the feeling her body was never supposed to support. Still, desperate times called for desperate measures, and from each of the three clutches she brought to term, she laid one egg back inside Clint.

After the ninth harvest, the eggs began to hatch. She drew the cracking eggs from her incubator’s pouch, and watched with rapt fascination and motherly pride as her children’s clawed legs and thorny hides broke free from their casings. For the first time, five young climbed onto her back and emptied her aching breasts. She was relieved and overjoyed. The young grew quickly. They doubled in size and before long they scurried about the cave with surprising speed. They were quickly becoming powerful, fearsome creatures. Their mouths dripped corrosive acid, and their tails were tipped with terrible stingers that would be able to pierce a ship’s hull when they were fully grown.

The tenth time the harvesters came, things went differently. The flash of light and disorientation did not seem to affect her children, and human screams filled the cave as her they promptly butchered the workers. The door to the cave slammed shut, but their acid spit made short work of it, and they spilled out of the artificial cave. It turned out that they were still aboard the thugs’ ship in some sort of cave environment. Pockets of resistance formed about the ship as the young made a coordinated effort to wipe their new home clean of all life. Though the entire ship’s compliment of 155 was armed, only one of her young died in the assault.

Jasmine the hive mother took stock of the now-empty ship, a new batch of offspring clinged to her back, feeding. She stepped over the remains of the bridge crew, noting that Pojo, the captain, was in the middle of initiating the ship’s self destruct sequence as he was killed.  She reached her tendril toward the computer and canceled the sequence. He had seemed so large before, but now he was smaller than her. She hadn’t realized how much she’d grown.

Next, she called up an text speaking program and entered her command painstakingly. It was exactly what Clint had said when they originally left Amiga station together.

“Heading 102, 212, 119. Destination Earth”, the artificial voice chimed, “Engage.”