Star Sex Ch. 02: Pilot

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

[COMMERCIAL BREAK 2]

The next morning, his egg sack was definitely bigger.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I thought you were pregnant."

"Well I am but-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What!?"

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

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

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

He gave a tentative nod.

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

Jack was taken aback. "But you said-"

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

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

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

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

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

"You promise?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Beautiful view isn't it?"

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

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

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

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

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

"So what species are you?"

"Human," answered Jack.

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

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

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

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

Jack nodded sheepishly. "Yeah."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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