The Eden Protocols Pt. 02

The Eden Protocols: A Bimbo Space Odyssey - Part Two

"Are you sure this is okay, Doctor Hughes?" Grace asked, licking her spoon clean. "I'm not contaminating the sick bay by eating at my station or anything?"

What a dear girl she was, Maeve reflected as she handed the mousy brunette another bowl of brown nutrient paste. So conscientious and thoughtful in the performance of her duties.

Efficient too, both in the way she was motoring through the gloopy food substitute and the data packets Tucker was sending them.

"Not at all, Grace. It might be a different matter if we had any actual patients but I don't see myself performing surgery any time soon." Maeve waved a hand at the otherwise vacant white room in explanation.. "Your body's reserves need replenishing after a long period in stasis and consider how empty your digestive tract must be after years of nothing but intravenous feeding. I can fetch you a different flavor if you prefer..."

The wall-mounted calorie dispenser had a variety of different settings to adjust the taste and seasoning of the brown sludge. Otherwise it was a tasteless porridge made from a genetically modified algae that was cultivated in vast qualities on the hydroponics deck.

Chemical additives were added to make it as sweet or savory as any palate desired. With a tap on the touchscreen interface it could be set to 'Beef Wellington' or 'Creme Brulee' or any number of other dishes spanning the width of earth's culinary cultures.

How close the gastronomic results were to the actual dishes, Maeve couldn't say. It always produced the same plastic soup bowl of brown gloop and she hadn't touched another drop of it.

The doctor herself had been subsisting on freeze-dried emergency ration packs she had found in the cargo hold. There were crates and crates of the silver foil packages, vacuum sealed, and therefore unlikely to have been tampered with by the ship's rogue AI.

"Nah, it's fine. Not as good as Mom's home cooking but food is just fuel, right?" Grace replied, clicking a few more keys as her jade green eyes remained locked on the glowing screen full of numbers and symbols. "If my doctor has no complaints, I say keep 'em coming. I can't believe how hungry I am."

It was nice to have company again. Real company instead of the vicarious sense of intimacy she got from watching Tucker fuck Charlotte's enormous tanned titties and blow fat, beautiful loads all over her ecstatic heart-shaped face as Maeve fingered herself silly in her office.

Grace was an academic prodigy from Canada, had earned her masters in Biochemistry from the University of Toronto by age seventeen and gained a fellowship before her twentieth birthday. She was a short, slightly stocky brunette who hadn't lost the bookish air of a student or gained the mature figure of a woman grown just yet.

She was good company and the perfect test subject both.

A stack of five bowls sat at the end of her work station, all but licked clean of their mud-colored contents as she started in on her sixth. Maeve had noticed Tucker and Charlotte consuming great quantities of the nutrient paste between frenzied bouts of face or titty fucking, and their increasingly short productive periods of work.

Only... Charlotte had stopped eating the dietary slop at some point. The one source of nourishment the gravid blonde spunk junkie now ingested spouted frequently from the end of Tucker's magnificent cock.

Maeve could read an obvious hint in the numerous dirty dishes that littered the engineering bay floor. Recognise a connection between her frantically fornicating crewmates and the empty bowls stacked up in the corners like teetering towers of plastic.

...and what better way to turn a hypothesis into a theory than through the scientific method of replication? Reproducing the same result would add merit to her eventual prognosis.

Repeatability was critical to credibility, she knew.

"These readings are pretty interesting. Too early to draw any concrete conclusions but pituitary gland activity is definitely up across the board. Like, way up in every case so far and somatotropin production..."

Maeve let the shop talk fade into the background as she scrutinized the young scientist. She would wait for her full report later instead of indulging in early guesswork. She had chosen Grace as much for her underdeveloped frame as for her esteemed intellect.

Her hair color too.

That had seemed important for some reason. Tucker already had a blonde in Charlotte, and Maeve had hair the color of midnight, so he'd likely appreciate the pigment diversity of a friendly brunette.

Maeve had her eye on a redhead named Harper Kelly next, once Grace was properly settled into life aboard ship with a hugely hung stud like Tucker, fucking like a prize stallion only a few decks away...

Harper was a young Scottish botanist with a thin runner's physique who would be helpful in investigating the vast seedling nurseries that generated supplemental oxygen, soaked up excess carbon dioxide, and grew the future crops which would support the new colony once it was founded.

...or something like that. She also had big amber eyes and an adorable rash of freckles across her cute button nose which Tucker would probably find irresistible.

For now Maeve was busy cataloging the changes already manifesting on her unwitting guinea pig.

Grace was clearly a studious sort, prone to getting lost in her work to the detriment of her situational awareness. Even as the distractible girl prattled on about testosterone, estrogen, and progesterone levels between spoonfuls of artificially flavored muck, her body was slowly changing.

It was an insidious, creeping change but noticeable if someone knew what to look for.

Grace remained in her sheer nano-weave hibernation suit at Maeve's insistence, never questioning the head physician's reasoning, but wore an open lab coat over it as a token nod to modesty and propriety.

Beneath the white coat, the early warning signs were beginning to appear. Gradual but significant.

Her quarter-sized nipples were pebbled and hard. The last vestiges of baby fat were melting away from her pooched belly by small degrees... or perhaps "creeping away" was a better term, as Grace's barely-there bust and boyish hips swelled by almost imperceptible fractions.

All that gobbled food had to go somewhere and... was her hair growing? The poor girl kept trying to blow the walnut brown fringe of her bob cut out of her vision, even as the chub was oh-so-slowly sucked from her apple cheeks to relocate down into her incrementally plumping lips.

"--you said some guy called Tucker was sending us these readings. Where is he and what does he do? Can I meet him?"

Tucker!

That name snapped Maeve out of her state of clinical observation and returned her to the present. Grace was staring expectantly up at her, expression perplexed as the Doctor's skin broke out in an immediate blush and she toyed with a loose strand of her long raven hair.

"I--I should probably check in with him." Maeve recovered, pulling her treacherous hands down to her sides and taking a deep, calming breath. "He's very busy and important... but I'll let Tucker know you asked after him. I think he would appreciate the kind regards."

"Sure, though I meant it more as a professional courtesy." Grace said, discarding the soup spoon in favor of raising the bowl to her lips to drink deep of its sludgy brown contents. "I don't play for the men's side, if you catch my meaning, and Doc... I've noticed the way you've been staring at me."

With a saucy wink, she tipped back her head and poured the soupy nutrient paste directly into her waiting mouth, swallowing thickly and lapping up stray globs with her moist lashing tongue.

The scene was so reminiscent of Charlotte cleaning up after Tucker that Maeve's run was a little bow-legged as she fled back to the privacy of her office.

________________

The ship's fabrication units had taken a hard turn towards vulgarity.

Thank goodness!

The advanced molecular printers held terabytes of digital blueprints for clothing, tools, electronics and all manner of other useful items they could produce in a jiffy with the push of a few buttons.

Maeve had used the sick bay fabricator to summon her sexy new skirt into existence after the pants portion of her smart green suit had a curious hole worn into the crotch.

The tiny emerald micro skirt was made of some shiny elastic material and had been the most modest replacement option she could find in the suddenly sexified selection of women's clothing available through the user-friendly interface. It stretched taut over her toned hips and ass, ending a bare inch below where her panties would be if Maeve had bothered to wear any.

The previous utilitarian range of practical women's fashion had vanished as though deleted. Sensible skirts and sturdy footwear, weather resistant pants and jackets gone from the various drop-down menus and categories.

What appeared in their place belonged in a boudoir boutique that sidelined as a sex shop after business hours.

Dark leather and latex took the pole position amongst the myriad new options. Closely followed by frilly lace and wispy chiffon. Slinky mini dresses that wouldn't look out of place in a strip club back on earth and enough scanty lingerie to outfit a dozen high end brothels.

Comfortable sneakers and durable steel caps were out. Glittery sky-high heels and big buckled fuck-me boots were in. Platform soles and studded straps dominated the screen.

Kinky costumes too. If Maeve wanted a new medical uniform, it would come in the form of a short-hemmed white plastic naughty nurse outfit with a chunky zipper that ran down the front and red crosses painted over the peaks of her breasts.

She had given it serious consideration.

But no, what really had her anglo-indian heart going pitter-patter was a brand new drop down menu that surely wasn't there last she checked...

TOYS.

Nothing for the kiddies asleep in their pods. On the display was a ribbalt range of intimacy aids covering every need from solo play, to co-op, to massively multiplayer bedroom activities.

Cock swazzles, clitty blitzers, vibrating humdingers... the variety was boggling. Nipple clamps, furry restrains, collars and gags were featured in every conceivable color and design. Maeve's painted fingertip stroked a scroll bar of motorized dildos, looking for one of a particularly large size and girthy shape, searching for the closest match from memory alone.

There! Her finger jabbed and the fabricator chimed as her salacious selection was atomically arranged in the compartment below.

It was alarmingly big, rubbery pink and came with five speed settings.

Maeve just hoped it could keep up with the real deal.

________________

"It's in the food isn't it?" Tucker said more than asked, having to raise his voice to be heard over the rapturous wailing filling the speakers. "The nutrient paste we've all been wolfing down like it's goddamn ambrosia."

"That was my earliest... suspicion too." Maeve gasped in reply, her flashy new five-inch stiletto pumps were up on the desktop as she leaned back in her black office chair and pumped 'Tucker Junior' in and out of her slick hairless snatch. "But I am running some... hmmph~ added tests to be sure. Harper is gathering samples from the... algae farms for chemical analysis. Aah! She's the cute redhead... I told you about her, right?"

Maeve was feeling all hot and bothered, and growing more than a little annoyed. Charlotte's oversized funbags kept slapping the camera lens and blocking her view of Tucker's handsome face.

Ever since the two had started engaging in anal sex--the young mega-stud still staunchly maintained his ban on vaginal intercourse with the cartoonishly curvaceous chief engineer--she had become a nuisance when it came to holding video conferences by the necessary positioning of the sinful act.

The gorgeous blonde bimbo had to be bent over something for Tucker to ravage her forbidden back passage, and if that meant the comms terminal they were currently communicating through, how could it be helped?

Still, Maeve pouted petulantly, she had discarded the stuffy suit jacket and completely unbuttoned her beige blouse so he could see her firm breasts in the new push up bra she had fabricated. It was lacy and green, the same shade as her sexy mini skirt.

Maeve wanted him to see her getting off on his dauntless masculinity. To tell him to cum for her. For Tucker to blow his incredible load at the lewd spectacle of her plugging her puffy pussy with a sordid simulacrum of his majestic manmeat while staring directly into her smoldering eyes.

How was he supposed to do that with Charlotte's thick muscular ass, giant globular tits, and voluminous bedhead of strawberry blonde hair obscuring his field of view?

...obscuring his view of Maeve, with her tiny emerald skirt bunched up around her trim waist and her dildo-stuffed cunt out on parade for him to ogle.

"Wait... you thawed another one? Dammit, pipe down Charlotte!" Tucker groaned, gripping the keening blonde by the back of the neck and dragging her bucking body off to one side to pound her rippling rump in picture-perfect profile. "I'm trying to speak with the good Doctor. What happened to Chase?"

He meant Grace of course, but such a busy, important and hunky man couldn't be expected to keep track of pesky little details like women's names.

Still, Maeve was momentarily stupefied by the way he so easily manipulated Charlotte's thick body with all her heavy curves, swinging her about like she weighed nothing at all. The buxom blonde rarely wore clothing anymore, except for her neon pink knee boots and matching elbow length gloves.

She gnawed on her full lower lip as though trying to chew it off as she thrust the humming dildo in faster. Deeper. Gasping and trying to keep time with Tucker's frenzied butt-stuffing rhythm.

"Grace? She's nearby. Mmmph! I'm still working on her--with her to identify... nyaa~ possible contaminants."

In truth, the last Maeve had seen of the young biochemist, she had been slumped over her workstation, surrounded by stacks of empty bowls, moaning whorishly with a 'Tucker Jr' of her own buzzing away between her considerably longer, shapelier legs.

Maeve felt a delicious tremor run through her at the recent memory of the not-so-mousy brunette training her pristine pussy on a rubberised duplicate of Tucker's mouthwatering enormity.

That had been three hours ago and the lewd noises coming from outside the Doctor's private office hadn't stopped.

"Maeve... wha-what are you doing?!" Tucker's sky blue eyes were wide and wild when he finally focused on her recumbent pose through the screen. "You shouldn't be... you can't..."

"Hmmm... Like what you see, Honey?" She purred, spreading her knees further apart to give him a better view of her glistening wetness. She was already sitting in a spreading puddle of her own pungent juices. "You need to cum, don't you? To clear your head and think straight again?

"Need to fill that sexy fucking bimbo's fat ass with all your hot spunk... oooh~ To drain your big balls into her most forbidden hole... Oooh gawd! Don't you want to cum for me, Tucker?"

Even as the filthy words left her breathy lips, Maeve was quaking in a toe-curling climax. Her third since the video call had begun only a few minutes ago. Envisioning herself, not Charlotte, stuck fast upon his manly pole. Being split apart by his girth and feeling the fullness of his length stirring up her tight insides.

"Oh fuck! I do... fuck me, but I do! FuckFuckFuckFuck!!"

With one huge hand still clamped firmly around the gleefully shrieking engineer's slender throat, and the other half encircling her waspish waist, Tucker stretched her puckered hole wide as he jacked her full figured body like an overinflated fucktoy on his raging rigidity.

Charlotte spasmed and flopped about in his mighty hold, arms dangling down uselessly like a puppet with its strings cut. Her floor-length golden hair flew in glossy tangles, her stupendous tits clapping and careening in mad circles as she flailed. Her bare feet actually left the floor as Tucker hoisted her big bouncy ass up by the hips to ram himself harder down into it.

Her hiccuping howls changed to odd high pitched yipping sounds each time he bottomed out in her clenching bowels.

"Do it, Tucker Honey. Look at my tight little pussy and cum so hard for me." Maeve panted, ratcheting the vibrator up to its highest setting and jamming it against her electrified g-spot. It whirred loudly, like an aircraft about to take flight. "It craves you so badly, my sweet little cunny. It wants you to cum and blast your sticky load in that sexy slut's asshole--"

There was that angry vein throbbing at his temple again, as Tucker nodded frantically along with her illicit instructions, his whole body tightening up in one god almighty contraction before he exploded convulsively inside Charlotte's bubbly butt.

"Jeezus... FUCK!!" He roared, drowning out all other noise in the engineering bay. "Gawd... I'm cumming, Maeve! I'm cumming so fucking hard for you!"

Maeve didn't need to be told, she was struck paralytic in the throes of her own orgasm. Cumming together as if they were somehow connected by some horny spiritual tether. Cresting a soaring climactic peak because her magnificent man was doing the same. It seemed fitting and right to Maeve in that moment, that a proper woman should find her own pleasure in giving it to a real man.

A real hunky dreamboat man like Tucker...

Time took a coffee break, as they remained locked in carnal completion. Tucker twitched occasionally as he unleashed a preternatural amount of steamy seed into the cum-drunk bimbo's back end and Maeve squirmed delightfully in her slippy leather seat.

"Good girl, good girl..." Tucker gasped, eventually lowering Charlotte back onto the workbench until her dopey drooling face was comfortable nestled atop her cushiony cleavage. "Such a good girl for helping me all this time. Rest now, my very good girl."

Charlotte smiled sleepily, barely conscious but happy, as he stroked her long golden hair and swiped his softening manhood clean in her thick ass crack before turning back to Maeve with a worried expression.

"I don't think we should communicate by video anymore, Doctor." He sounded guilty, not meeting her eyes as though he had done something wrong. "If you're going to find a cure to whatever is happening to us then I must ask you to hurry. Please, I don't know how much more Charlotte can take."

"No! Tucker Honey, wait!"

Maeve cried out as he reached for the terminal but it was too late. He ended the connection and the screen went black, leaving Maeve with only her thoroughly ruffled, beatifically boneless reflection for company.

...That, and the outline of an impressively womanly figure kneeling in the open office doorway behind her.

Spinning her chair around with all the sinister slowness of a cheesy Hollywood villain making their big reveal, Maeve crossed her honey-glazed thighs as she greeted the unexpected arrival, tapping the soggy tip of the truncheon-sized dildo theatrically against her angular chin.

It was still buzzing like an outboard engine and left a shiny wet splotch on her pale porcelain skin.

"I'm sorry Grace, dear. I didn't see you there." She told the prostrated young scientist in a tone of motherly concern. "Did you need something from me?"

"Who... Why were you..." The poor girl was struggling to turn thought into words. Small wonder given the condition she was in. "What's happening to me?!"