Transport

This erotic story features 'aeromorph' characters, humanoid robots/cyborgs resembling aircraft. But sexy.

SHORT STORY

Vast hangar bay doors creaked slowly open, a shaft of light slipping between the widening vertical crack. Amid the hum of equipment and the liquid throb of fuel lines, the prototype watched the sunlight creep in.

The "Autonomous Lift Inter-Continental Express" (A.L.I.C.E.) stood shrouded in the darkness that would soon be banished by the advancing rays. Alice was a lady of impressive proportions, and pedigree. An experimental new aircraft system -- intelligent, self-aware -- an offshoot of top secret military research currently trialling for civilian use. Few had seen her outside of the base; maybe a hiker wandering the wilds, or someone visiting her ground crew, would have caught a fleeting glimpse. To the world, though, she didn't exist. Her test flights had all been conducted with the utmost secrecy in the remote empty lands around her home base, where she'd been brought after assembly on a pitch-black night four months ago.

A product of concealment, a life undercover. It was beginning to irk her.

"DISENGAGE!"

A loud, booming announcement thundered through the intercom system, rattling the hangar with sound. Alice saw the sliver of light split the far end of the hangar, and her body heaved a great sigh as she could finally switch to visible light sensors.

The black strip that ran across her face where one's eyes usually were changed tint, unveiling two complex optical arrays modelled after the human vision system, with plenty of enhancements for a cybernetic being like herself. She squinted -- at least, that's what appeared to happen as her visor darkened in patches to block the excess light as it painted a stripe down her face. And what a face...

Broad. Rounded like a passenger jet. A big, spherical snout and smooth, flawlessly-white metal skin. Flat too, with minimal exposed features like ears, or horns -- the only protrusions a pair of swept-back control surfaces. Thin knife-like triangles jutting back from the sides of her head a 45-degree angles and spread out horizontally to about ten degrees, resembling ears. Her other distinguishing facial feature was the plump, black swell of rubber and synth-polymer composite that were her lips -- puffy pillows adorning her closed mouth; thick slabs designed to form an incredible seal even at high altitude. Everywhere else was blank, no openings...no need to breathe (yet), except for several lines of colour painted atop her white basecoat.

Alice was far more than a machine. That much was clear even from what could be seen in the sparse illumination. It was only the small figures flitting about on gantries that gave away the enormity of the creature slowly being revealed...

An aeromorph -- a flying machine built in the image of a person. Thirty feet tall (thirty-one if we include her 'ears'). Naked, or soon to be as a slow process of disengagement heralded by the booming voice began with a number of support structures and scaffolding moved away from her, taking with them pipes and tubes that had been previously fixed to her body.

"Ouch!"

The two largest connectors broke off, separating from her and swinging away as klaxons blared, warning her tiny crew-mates to stand clear. In their absence, a massive pair of breasts hung from her chest. Enormous fuel tanks filled to the brim, their nipples dripping with spillover as the access caps sealed shut. The trickle of orange-brown aviation fuel followed the curves of her cleavage as it rolled and plunged, staining the pure-white paint job and disappearing against the solid black patch of her belly.

As the small amount of residual pain from the disengagement ran through her system, the huge female raised her left hand and rubbed most of the spilt fuel from her bosom. Large, articulated fingers deftly graced her divine form, soft tips filled with tactile sensors driving vast quantities of data to her positronic brain -- home to a composite personality matrix, produced from a multitude of cerebral scans of human volunteers compiled into a living consciousness.

Her hand travelled from her breasts to her mouth, her jet-back lips parting and a gunmetal-grey tongue worming its way out from its den. The serpentine tip of her tongue licked her stained fingers, tasting the fuel. A 'purr' was heard by some as the aeromorph revelled in the sweet taste. Then, without much extra movement, she returned her arms to her sides, waiting for things to clear.

Careful, she reminded herself, you don't want to bump into anything.

Questions had arose in government briefings about the programme, and this didn't stop when corporate contractors got involved. Questions surrounding the efficacy of such a...unique solution to pilot fatigue, human error, and other sundry issues of long-range aerial transport. Making the pilot and plane 'one and the same' was certainly a novel way of looking at it. Some would say wasteful. Nevertheless, the green light had been given, and Alice was the result.

When designs for the A.L.I.C.E. prototype had been unveiled, they certainly raised a few eyebrows. "Rest assured," people in the know were told, "any resemblance to the form or function of a female adult human is purely coincidental, a mere byproduct of the design goals specified." Not sure if anyone believed this, but in the eyes of the decision-makers it had been agreed. There was no turning back, and now, after years of painstaking effort, she was ready.

Ready for her 'maiden' intercontinental flight.

Enough equipment had moved away to give one a good full look at this new goddess of the skies. Like her top half, her bottom half was the perfect facsimile of a beautiful, curvaceous woman. From the midsection of her fuselage to between her legs her belly had been painted black, sides and thighs white, knees capped with white and ringed with some nice blue stripes and lettering. Some seams at the joints were dark grey, others a lighter shade. Behind the knees and opposite the elbows had a more flexible, accordion-like substance that accommodated a wide angle of extension and compression as one moves their arm. The same construction was found in parts of her ankle and wrist, with her fingers hosting the most elaborate set of hydraulic and pneumatic mechanisms to approximate true (possibly superhuman) dexterity. Alice's every motion was a calculated procedure of maximum mobility with minimum energy cost.

That being said, somewhere in her personality matrix lay a flair for the expressive. A fragment of her creation, seeded by an unknown (to her) volunteer long ago, when her mind was a mere codebase gestating on a hyper-computer buried somewhere in the salt flats a thousand miles from here.

Another loud CLANK broke the rumbling peace of the hangar. The forty-foot assembly that had sported her fuel lines locked itself against the far wall a safe distance from the mammoth machine-girl. She turned her head and regarded the installation coldly, with a spark of warmth spared for the tiny figures scuttling about its scaffolds in single-colour jumpsuits and hard-hats. Her 'little helpers' as she'd nicknamed them. Delicate and cute. Her psyche reinforced the notion that it was her job to help them. That's why she was here, after all.

"FINAL INSPECTION!"

The loudspeaker voice boomed again, and Alice responded, her voice a close to a whisper as she could manage:

"Ahhh...a few more minutes, please..."

Acting like a grumpy sleep-deprived human wouldn't engender any respect from her superiors, so the metal giantess quickly stopped pouting and lifted her leg, taking her first step closer to her maiden flight.

A huge rubber-soled foot came crashing down on the concrete floor. It pressed down with incredible force, a loud whoosh of air escaping from underneath the massive object. Internal dampeners in her joints squealed as they got their first taste of action. The solid grey-back slab of rubber wedded to the base of her 'landing gear' compressed and firmed as it sealed itself against the ground. A small flex through the main articulations gave the top of her foot the appearance of a silken slipper -- a single soft mass of synthetic tissue curling and relaxing as her muscles worked out the kinks in their motion.

Alice looked down at the floor -- from her perspective the markings and lettering was unreadable unless she applied zoom to her vision. That wasn't important, however. The details need not concern her, just the two large yellow circles she was supposed to stand on in front of an exposed balcony.

Swinging her leg and bringing the rest of her body around, the aeromorph walked the couple of strides necessary to reach her next station. She smiled when she saw her ground crew emerge, her upper chest level with the ledge. Giving them a small curtsey and a smile in greeting, Alice prepared for the next step.

"Link active. Can you copy?"

A new voice crackled to life, static fizzling in the background. This one reached her internal comlink -- a private line of communication with her and the base control personnel.

Alice maintained her pleasant expression while she sent an electronic reply: "this unit copies. Ready for final inspection procedure."

"You know the drill. Over."

Alice brought her arms up and cupped her breasts, lifting the enormous 'fuel tanks' so that her steel-capped nipples found their way to within reach of the gathering ground crew. The first in a checklist of inspections had begun once she'd stopped heaving her bosom into place. Two teams of three began a physical examination of the refuelling ports in the centre of her nipples.

As they busied themselves, a second group ran a gantry atop her cleavage and scaled the mounds of her chest until they reached her shoulders, then they used an impressed set of rungs that ran from her 'collarbone' to her head -- where they plugged diagnostic equipment just below her winged ears.

A third crew busied themselves at ground level, whom Alice had noticed scurrying about in the corner of her eye. They poked and prodded at her feet and ankles, checking for malfunction in the joints and mechanisms there.

With the humans bustling all over her, making such a fuss of ensuring she was ready to go, Alice couldn't help but giggle at the sensation of all their tiny hands and machines and probes pressing against her cybernetic skin. Tickling the gentle giantess. Careful enough to avoid letting her body shake with laughter, she parted her lips and produced an audible titter.

"Try to keep it professional, A.L.I.C.E." scorned ground control, speaking her name like it was nothing more than an acronym.

"Sorry sir," she said, both aloud and over comms. She cleared her throat and continued: "this unit is ready for the payload."

With the go-ahead from the inspection crew given, they removed themselves from her presence. Alice was left to exit the hanger on her own.

Daylight greeted her as she made her way to the open hangar doors. Those vast steel barriers that had kept her away from the world for days on end, undergoing constant maintenance -- double- and triple-checking her systems so she could be signed off on. Alice sauntered, her fuselage-body swaying with confidence as she walked. The thoom-thoom-boom of her heavy footfalls felt so quiet to her, and now that her human helpers had scurried away to parts unknown she was free to move without concern for stepping on anyone.

Thoom-thoom-CRACK!!!

Maybe she was a tad overconfident...

Alice lifted her foot off of the unmanned tanker truck that had lain in her path. Now trodden upon and crushed by her immense weight, the wreckage seeped with oil as its destroyer swore:

"Fuck!"

Her controllers overheard her exclamation, and were quick to investigate.

"A.L.I.C.E. -- what's your status?"

"Status normal. Minor encounter with a misplaced vehicle. No danger to personnel. No damage to this unit." She put on her best poker face -- though no-one was there to see it -- and continued on her way.

As she walked, the remnants of the truck sloughing off her damp sole, Alice began to breathe.

'Breathing' for her was a sharp continuous inhalation of air from two small slits on her nose, and four much larger intakes mounted to her shoulders, feeding turbofan engines which now sparked to life. The rush of air through her nose-intakes produced a sensation of coolness; olfactory sensor arrays monitored the temperature and particle composition of the air she now 'breathed'.

A gust formed behind her as her engines spooled. Two exhausts jutted from her calves, their output breezing over her ankles with steadily-warming air. A third central exhaust was found just above the swell of her rear -- its round opening casting heat over her enormous ass. If one shifted their gaze upwards, following the path of her spine, they would see a set of wings sprouting from her back -- their span broad enough to keep her aloft but stubby enough to avoid entangling with her arms when moving. Auxiliary engines dotted their length. Small inlets and outlets ready to assist with heaving her massive body into the sky.

Passing through the hangar exit, Alice soaked in the warm sun as it beat down on her white-and-black form, its heat both reflected and absorbed by disparate surfaces. The aeromorph found herself a nice spot on the vast concrete runway adjacent to the hangar, and spotted an advancing motorcade: two ground vehicles bringing her test flight cargo.

She quietened the roar of her engines for the benefit of the oncoming humans.

"Control," she radioed in, "this unit is awaiting payload."

"Payload en route, over."

"Confirmed. Over."

With her turbines running low, she stood still, their small gusts around her legs carrying flecks of dirt away in miniature eddies -- swirling winds light enough to avoid harm, but strong enough to knock stuff over. She grimaced and adjusted her engine power yet again, trying to demonstrate her control. Luckily, she was able to calm the gales within and keep her surroundings still. She felt it, however. Deep inside. The yearning to let loose. After ages cooped up in a building with no opportunity to exercise barring scheduled tests, her engines were thrumming with anticipation. The vibrations coursing through her insides were intoxicating. All she wanted to do at this moment was ignite all turbines and roast the asphalt with her afterburners, property damage be damned!

She calmed herself, and was reminded by her positronic conscience that she was supposed to show discipline, lest the programme be cancelled and she mothballed. The threat hung ever-present in her mind -- the consequences of failure. No-one was going to pay billions to keep her around without a use; she may be a sentient being, but she was also an expensive piece of kit.

The convoy stopped ten metres in front of her, and several drivers and crew members hopped out to greet her. Alice replied with a restrained nod, and seeing them give her a thumbs-up as the cargo capsule was set in place pleased her. Everything was going according to plan.

Her 'payload' soon stood alone on the runway. A silver pillar, fat in the middle and tapering at the extremes. Twice as long than it was wide. Held upright by a small frame affixed to its base. Its contents were irrelevant -- dummy material to weigh it down, simulating a load of real cargo. All that mattered was the payload was secure, transportable within the prototype, and capable of resisting any forces that could crush it during transit.

In short: a big, shiny, pressurised dildo.

...

Her designers had yet to formulate an excuse for that particular detail.

...

The convoy crew had retreated a short distance back and set about spraying it down with lubricant. No prizes for guessing where it was going to be carried. Alice looked at the capsule, bemused.

Why are people so concerned with how this works? She often wondered, overhearing the occasional snide remark or protesting comment. It all made sense. Why wouldn't it. She was designed to efficiently transport cargo containers of this type across long distances, without needing human intervention or control. She was autonomous, capable of making her own decisions when in flight, and could react to the unexpected: a bad storm, for example. She'd heard stories about what happened when humans attempted to pilot aircraft...so cruel, she thought, making them suffer when they don't need to...not anymore...

A surge of triumphant self-assuredness buoyed her spirits. She was going to ace this trial! Who cares what some humans felt about why she was built this way. Who cares about people's hang-ups about the part of her fuselage they referred to as the 'butt'?

Once coated in a layer of liquid lubricant, the crew clambered back aboard their vehicles and pulled away. Zooming in on their faces, Alice spied a couple of embarrassed looks among them. Pfft! she thought, humans are weird.

"Payload ready. Prepare to load."

Alice confirmed with her superiors that she was a-go for the flight. Slowly, avoiding the human vehicles, she stepped forward, bringing her titanic body in position above the capsule. The nearby personnel were treated to a full view of her underside, front and rear -- every part of her that had been censored in the official schematics, now bared for all to see. There were a fair few female members of the ground crew present who did not have the best opinion of the display happening before them, or the not-so-subtle chauvinism present among the designers of this bodacious behemoth.

All this time her engines had behaved, creating only a slight breeze behind her. Alice made sure to maintain that level as she began to bend her knees. Gradually filling the view of the onlookers like some sexy horror film, her lower body moved closer and closer. Joints creaked and metal surfaces groaned as her whole body bent down.

Finally, she was in position. The aeromorph squatted above the capsule's length, her ass gently falling towards the tip. Her audience next watched her enormous cheeks part, spreading as her hips splayed and thighs stretched wide. A solid grey-black patch of tightly-sealed rubber compound could be seen -- bordered by yellow-and-black striped warning lines. Bunched up, the entrance to her 'cargo bay' descended with the rest of her, small twitches in the dark pucker of her asshole signalling her eagerness to begin the loading process.

Sinking onto the steel tip of her payload, Alice paused for a moment. She sensed her entrance kiss the cold metal -- sending the sensors embedded in that part of her body reeling from the rapid temperature change. Just a couple of metres further up, her main exhaust rumbled as she lost control for a split-second. A burst of excitement kicking up more dust around the runway. She felt the damp wet tip press against her, and relaxed her muscles to accept it.

A loud slick noise ensued as she pushed the lubricated tip of the cargo capsule into her ass. Pressing down, feeling it stretch her rear entrance, the large lady could only grit her metallic teeth and bear it. The first portion of its length had sunk into her tight ass, and the growing girth as she descended towards the middle of the capsule forced a response:

"Ah-aah!" she gasped, quickly followed by a moan as her surprise turned to a strange sense of pleasure. No-one had told her it would feel so...so good...

"Status report," barked the voice on the comlink. Alice held off on replying for a moment while she steadied her quivering ass -- nerve-circuits firing like a drunken gunslinger. Another wobble in her engine control reared its ugly head as she fought her instincts, ingrained so deep within her machine consciousness it was no mere impulse, but a divine command.