Preface
It is nearly 200 years since the end of the Gene-War, also known as The Last Great War of Man.
It started as a trade war, the egos of petty men spilling over their countries. Within a decade it turned cold, as the impact of their policies hit their economies and governments turned to xenophobia and scapegoats to deflect from the own failings. It wasn't long before it escalated. Pockets of fighting broke out and less than a century after the last World War, all nations were in conflict again.
But such a conflict was short, as Mutual Assured Destruction wasn't enough to stop the conflict going nuclear.
One would have thought, that after rendering 80% of the surface inhospitable to humanity, the conflict would have ended. But resentments were too deep, and the remaining factions found new ways to fight on.
While the contamination was deadly to humanity, nature quickly adapted. In the decades which mankind spent buried in bunkers taking pot shots at each other, forests grew and animals spread. Never a species to miss an opportunity, mankind saw this reclamation as a sign, how to finally "win" their war.
Using genetic splicing, humanity took aspects of the hardiest animal survivors and altered their own DNA to continue their war. Bear and Dog infused hybrid soldiers marched through forests no human could.
Little over a century later, the war finally ended. A major Gene research facility exploded. It was never clear if this was an accident or military action, but the final result was the same. The end of humanity.
The base splicing virus, which lacked the animal component, was released into the wild. The virus, keyed to alter human DNA had no effect on the animal it infected. It merely took aspects of their DNA and waited till it could be spread to a human. Within a year the Gene-plague had spread across the entire mammalian population of the world, with every mammal being a carrier. The aging filters and crumbling walls of the bunkers could only keep the remaining humans safe from the contagion for so long. And once past the hematic barriers spread with effortless efficacy.
The human race ceased to exist, the Last Great War of Man ended and the rise of the Manmal Races began.
Prolog
During is construction Energy and Resource Post (ERP) 21 had over a thousand Manmals working on its construction. The huge tower of the solar furnace stands starkly out the open plateau, behind it covering the sides of three great hills a thousand self-tracking mirrors focus the suns energy and the pinnacle of the tower. Along the ridge of the hill, dozens of wind turbines. Between the two larger hills a small hydroelectric dam. Outposts like these supply the energy for the growing Manmal civilisation, and act as supply and resource hubs for the farms around.
2 kilometres away from the tower is the settlement, a hodgepodge of wood stone and brick houses, many of which are now empty. Now little more than hundred manmals now live at the settlement, maybe touching 200 if you include the surrounding farms and logging camp.
Chapter 1
Samantha, standing a little over a meter, was small even for a mouze and often covered in oil, grease or other such muck, hence her nickname Smidge. She had moved to ERP21 near the end of its construction, with her then boyfriend, as an engineer. When the construction finished they planned to stay as part of the maintenance crew and start a family, or so she thought. Apparently, he had other plans, leaving for the city a week after she announced her pregnancy. About a month later he sent a letter asking her to join him in the city as a housewife.
But she stayed, her skills earned her the title of chief engineer, she loved her job and her friends here and she wasn't going to give up any of them. She kept working while her child grew inside her belly, undaunted about doing so alone. That was until a week ago, a maintenance shaft she once traversed with ease had "shrunk" trapping her halfway up. She was eventually rescued by Gerald, an elderly Rhat engineer that planned to live out his retirement at the outpost. Kindly he came out of retirement for the next 6-12 months to cover Smidge's maternity leave.
So that was that, no more work. Smidge, 8 months pregnant, sat covered in a sheet on the edge of her bed, looking at the logged wall of her small cabin, bored. Bored, aching, but beyond everything excruciatingly horny.
Smidge always had a veracious sexual appetite, so much so her ex joked about not being able to satisfy her. Little that he knew it was no joke, Smidge had amassed quite a collection of Rhodent sex toys and a few designed for larger Manmals. Yet her favourite "toy" she carried with her every day, her tail. She loved using her tail, the ridges and bumps so useful as a third hand, also gave such a wonderful sensation sliding across the front her clit or pushing vast lengths of it deep inside her.
She had spent the morning desperately trying to cum. She tried lying on her back, knees up, sliding her long tail back and forth between her legs. But her bump made the angles all wrong, her tail sliding to the left or the right. Neither could she hold the tail with both hands how she used to. Always getting close to the point, but frustratingly never, ever reaching it. Then the weight of her baby pushing down on her back was too much.
She tried on all fours, her huge baby belly swinging underneath her. Her breasts, that where once the size of apples (large for her small frame) were now as large as grapefruits and heavy. Her nipples were larger, darker and under her fine fur she could see thick veins. Every now and then when playing with her, now, super sensitive nipple a small amount of yellowy creamy colostrum would form.
But even on all fours, playing with her nipples and using the most powerful of her toys, the rocking of her baby bump kept breaking her rhythm and once again she found herself horny and frustrated. It had been like this for a month, and now she didn't even have work to take her mind of her aching crotch.
She glanced across to the pile of clothes on the floor and decided to get some advice from the only person she knew who had been through a similar situation, and fortunately she was also Smidge's best friend in the outpost.
Chapter 2
Jo was also an engineer and a single mother, and at just under 3 meters a huge statue of a woman, even for a Bovyne. Engineering teams tended to have a mixture or Rhodents for the small fiddly stuff and for the heavy "work horse" work they used the larger races such as Horzes. While Jo did much of the heavy lifting she was highly technical and analytical, thus was 2
nd
in charge.
She was married, technically still is, to the only son of a local farmer, Jay. It had effectively been a marriage of convenience, with both Jo and Jay entering into it while naively repressing their true natures for the sake of other people.
Homosexuality, while accepted and embraced as a normal part of the diverse natural world, is often in conflict with a parent's desire to be a grandmother/father or to continue a family line. Even though their marriage could have never lasted, Jay and Jo had been friends since they were calves. A deep unbreakable love will always entwine them and their 11 month old son, Jayson.
Jay dotes on his son and tried to be the best father he can, which allowed Jo to return part time to work. Fortunately for Smidge this was her day off from work and her morning off from their growing child. Jay had taken their son on a hike around the dam, and would be gone for most of the day.
This suited Samantha as she desperately needed some intimate advice from her friend. Taking a deep breath, she gingerly knocked on the door.
The huge wooden door opened up and Smidge was greeted by the familiar sight of an embroidered sunflower. Jo wore baggy denim dresses which she embroidered with great care, the sunflower one was her favourite. She had purposefully placed the brown "fluffy" centre of the largest sunflower in line with her crotch, and at Smidge's eyeline. Most days this was the first thing Smidge saw when visiting her friend, and she knew what her friend was implying.
Jo's home was built from large stones gathered whilst building the dam, everything inside was oversized for most Manmals, ludicrously so for a small Rhodent like herself, but it was perfectly suited for Jo. Smidge had a special chair, with steps up and huge padded arms and back.
Smidge looked across to the kitchen, in the corner stood a huge glass fronted fridge. She had to have it brought in from the city via the supply tram. Smidge smiled remembering the effort Jo and Jay had getting it from the Depot to the house. Inside she saw a dozen 1/2 litre bottles of milk, another dozen more bottles sat on the draining board.
"Thirsty?"
Smidge looked up to her friend. She had a mop of messy orange/brown hair for her mane, almost covering her big deep brown eyes. Smidge liked her eyes, she found it deeply uncomfortable looking at other people's eyes, but she could lose herself in Jo's deep and caring gaze. Poking from the side of her mane was a set of small upward curved horns. All of Jo's tools have denim straps on them which she uses to hook them on her horns when she has nowhere else close to put them, often leaving oil stains on the side of her head, one such dark patch stood out now. Jo's is smiling at her, big lips in a huge smile making her brownish pink snout curl up.
"Thirsty?" She repeated.
One of the many curiosities of the Gene-plague was the persistence of Human reproductive traits. Nine month gestation periods normally giving birth to a single child. It was almost as if Mother Nature was not keen on mankind's replacement populating the world at any speed. Which meant all Manmals had two breasts, regardless of their genesis species.
Bovynes however had a slight inherited disadvantage, as they tended hyper-lactate. Producing much more milk than their offspring could consume and poor Jo had it worse than most of her race. The most pragmatic solution was to pass on or sell the extra milk to other Manmals. It's considered a social norm, no different than passing on clothes too small for your child.
Smidge, along with many others in the settlement, had been enjoying Jo's chilled milk for the last 11 months, though she wondered how many had thought about enjoying it directly from the source.
Jo would have normally filled all the bottles and Smidge realised something wasn't right.
"Not right now." Smidge replied, gesturing to the kitchen. "Everything okay?"
Jo frowned, or at least as much as a frown as Smidge could see under her mane. She then gestured to the large breast pump on the table, against which a small flat box was resting.
"Pump's been playing up for the last few days, making an awful racket. Diaphragm's on its way out, but...." she raised her huge hands up "I cannot.."
