This story depicts a fetish know as Futanari
Fuatnari: A type of Hentai, most often depicting hermaphrodites or females with male sex organs. Also known as Dickgirls.
Transformation Futa is a long standing kink of mine, though it has been a while since I indulged. The major difference is that the females are 100% genuine female until a chemical injection bestows them with a rampant 'schlong' and a burning desire to use it on any and all available orifices
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Many years had slipped by since humanity first entered the cold, dark, vast emptiness of space. The moon landing was the first tentative baby step into the unknown and who could have foretold then that the true destiny of Earth's children sat waiting for them at some distant point between the stars, for it was during this initial stage that mankind looked back on the small green blue planet they called home and realized just how small they were compared to the near infinite reach of space. So, as time progressed and technology advanced, the decision was made to reach out to new planets in order to terraform and populate. It was an ambitious goal to be sure, and it was in this attempt to extend humankind's grasp that something was discovered ...something that was to change the face of mankind forever.
Those first faltering steps in the vast unknown bought with it a price ...at first it wasn't thought to be anything other than the discovery of an ancient society, a civilisation long since passed into antiquity, and amidst the ruination of this antediluvian world lay certain relics. These relics dated back to long before humanity had gathered the wherewithal to drag itself from the bondage of primordial instinct. Yet, the term relic itself is a bit of a misrepresentation, though these objects were indeed ancient, the level of technology that they possessed was like nothing that even the most inspired mind would dream of creating. Though for many years they remained nothing more than a curiosity, that is until a brilliant scientist unlocked their power, and in doing so bought about his own destruction. Though it wasn't just his end that was met that day ...nor just the end of every man in that complex, but something was unleashed from within the relic that spread throughout the globe in one unstoppable plague that wiped every person from the face of the earth that bore a 'Y' chromosome ...not one human 'male' was spared.
With an entire gender now purged from the face of the earth things looked bleak for the continuation of the species. Oh sure, there were a few men stationed in deep space or who were off planet that were spared the wrath of the relics, but they numbered in tens, the 'gentler' sex was counted in billions. For a while the answer lay in sciences ability new life in test tubes. It was something that humans had dabbled with for many generations now and over that time the techniques had been refined and perfected, though of course, only female embryo's ever became viable as it seemed that whatever it was that had been unleashed into the planets atmosphere was now so intimately bound to every molecule that no male could ever set foot or even be sired on the Earth again.
Of course, the whole procedure became ludicrously expensive to the point where children became very much the luxury item, affordable by only the ultra rich and in efforts to safeguard the future prosperity of the human race all sperm bank reserves were seized by the World's Central Federal Government. It wasn't long before those little frozen pockets of genetic 'cockspit' were worth more than the planets reserves of gold bullion and precious stones combined.
Those who were spared this biochemical wrath, other than the women of course, where those individuals who by birth had been born transgendered, shemale ...dickgirl, call them what you will and it was from this small fraction of humanity that the hope for our species continuation was discovered. It was in a nondescript Japanese laboratory where some junior tech found a way to splice the transgender gene and wrap it into a set cycle genetic transcription strand and bind it all within a solution that held the compound in a static state ...static that is until is was injected into the human bloodstream. The resulting effect was a short term testosterone transformation that endowed the female with a rampant engorged fleshy phallic shaft that oozed pearls of life giving goo from its bulbous head and a equally rampant will to use it.
It goes without saying that the black market in gender-gene splicing began to shadow its legitimate, but regulated cousin, and to this end, trading in the aptly coined 'Futanarium' bought great rewards for those willing to trade in it and risk running the gamete of the law.
So ...you are probably wondering where all this is leading, well its leading here ...to docking arm Capsicon-G of the Ganymede orbital space station, on which is tethered a behemoth of a transporter ship called the 'Vancouver', its deep space mission is ...well, of no consequence really, but in the shadow of the airlock stands one of the ships crew, partly concealed in darkness and glancing furtively along the length of the gantry while a second equally shadowy figure rummaged around in a hidden pocket deep within the depths of their jacket ...a few moments later she produces a small syringe filled with a vivid green chemical, the soft emerald glow reflects on the pretty ...almost elfin face framed with a shock of crimson locks and she quickly passes over the wad of cash, the price is steep, but well worth it in her mind.
There was a sudden burst of life from the communicator she carried "Do you want to get your sweet ass in here Marti? ...times a burning gorgeous." came the voice of the Vancouver's pilot with a barely concealed giggle.
With a grin, Martinique raced through the airlock and slammed the 'door close' to a symphony of sirens as the great ship began to make way. There was a heavy clunk as the arm detached from the mounting plate at the side of the vessel, allowing it a moment of drift as the ship slowly started to succumb to the profound gravitational pull of the dying star below around which the station orbited. It was a beautiful sight ...the star was close to death but the stations technology held the gas giant in a form of stasis that never quite allowed it to die.
The pilot allowed the vessel to fall further, the nose pitched forward before she suddenly gunned the engines. There was a resounding roar and a shudder that ran the length of the gargantuan vessel as the pulsar drives twisted and turned the space in the wake in their wake ...the Vancouver swung about the dying star and used the increased momentum to catapult into the reaches of space.
As big as the ship was, it only had a total of five crew ...there was Justine, an experienced Captain with hair like liquid gold, Simone, the raven haired navigator ...Katalina, the comms officer with a fetish for piercings and who marked each time the ship made landfall by getting some or other part of her perfectly proportioned personage pierced. There was also Martinique who was ships security ...though it was often said that she only ever took on that position so she could abuse it and smuggle stuff on board that would otherwise have been confiscated by any security officer worth her salt. Finally there was Tasha, the helmswoman and one of note, a decorated flyer but one who flew with instinct rather than regulation.
Tasha's face wore a delicate brooding beauty, but it was her sense of dress had often been remarked upon, if only for it being wholly inappropriate. She wore a small leather effect top that covered her breasts but left her shoulders and midriff exposed and in doing so showed off the light tan of her skin, the black sheen of the hide was peppered with small squares of shiny metal plate... it gave the effect of being armoured, but was barely up to the task... in fact it hardly seemed up the task of containing her full orbs and they seemed forever threatening to break free of their leather bound incarceration. Her right hand was covered with a black fingerless glove, whilst her left remained unencumbered by any such adornment.
Black leather pants with strapping and buckles adorning the front also covered her pert rump and her right leg... the other leg of her garment she had opted to remove at some point so that now her shapely leg lay fully exposed from just a little under her crotch to the point where it vanished into one of her combat boots... boots that had likely seen better days but they were warm, comforting and shod with a steel instep.
With the transport ship now clear of the station and pointed towards the inky depths of space, she engaged the auto pilot and rose from her seat. Her time aboard the space station had left her feeling sweaty, clammy and uncomfortable, and there was only one thing that could put that to rights and that was standing under the pummeling head of the shower as the drumbeat of water washed away all the grunge of the day and gave her skin that refreshing glow that she so adored.
"Just gonna get myself showered Captain." she grinned ...well aware that Justine's eyes would be following her movement towards the lift and so she made sure to give that pert ass of hers a wiggle as she reached the lift to the bowels of the vessel and tapped the 'call' button. For a few moments she stood there gently staring at the ceiling and absent mindedly tapping the back of her head against the bulkhead in time to some tune that warbled around her mind as she waited.
With a sudden gentle hiss the lift opened and Tash swung inside and jabbed at the floor number ...the doors slid shut and she left the rest of the bridge crew staring at the closed brushed metal door and Justine muttering under her breath about 'having that sweet pert ass' one of these days.
A few moments later the lift doors swooshed open and Tasha found herself staring straight into the mischievous eyes of Martinique as she rested against a bulkhead, something about her gave her the air that she was up to something, not that this was in and of itself unusual, as Marti usually was up to something, it was that delicious deviousness that so endeared her to Tasha.
"Hey Marti." Tash grinned as she rounded the corner and made her way through into the shower block.
Martinique returned the greeting and watched as the lithe alluring form of her occasional carnal companion as she slipped into the shower block. She knew well the routine of her friend and it wouldn't have been the first time that she had followed her into the shower cubicle in order to indulge in some lurid lady loving that would leave then hotter, grimier and stickier than when they had first entered the cascade of water ...but not tonight ...no tonight was different. Tonight she had plans!
She dipped her hand into her pocket and fished out the small syringe that she had procured just before the ship had taken off, her eyes gleamed at the emerald promise that swished gently within the glass chamber. It was one thing to stretch Tasha velvet depths with several inches of strap on ...but the idea of sporting a rampant rutting rod and feeling every inch of grip against her as she plunged deep into Tasha's 'snatch' was toe curlingly delicious.
Hell ..the girl was dampening at the very thought of it and already a patch of wetness had begun to grow against the crotch of her pants. The thoughts of this young minx turned over and over in her deliciously depraved head as she thought about all the things she could do with such monstrous medically modified meat swinging between her thighs.
