Melanie sighed as the light came on and the chime sounded. She'd signed on for this duty. She'd even volunteered. But it did get tedious. Standing up, sliding a bookmark into her novel, Melanie waited for the chamber to open.
A month ago, she'd been a lieutenant in the Black Navy, defending the planet against off world invaders. The war had been over for five years and the threat was now minimal. But one day, the Outsiders would return. So vigilance must be maintained.
Melanie looked out the porthole, at the starfield and the planet below. The view hasn't changed much, from her duty post on the weapons deck of the Vendetta to this orbiting habitation pod. Her duties had changed a great deal, but in her own way, she was still serving the homeworld. One gunnery engineer, among thousands, in a time of peace, was an unnecessary expense in the planetary defense. Now, she was arming the future.
A thin, dark vertical line appeared in the center of the chamber cover as the lock disengaged and the seam split. With the a hiss of escaping gases, the two halves of the cover slid apart, and the newly waked Cabu stepped out.
It had the body of a seasoned warrior, broad shoulders, powerful muscles, a runner's legs. And its cock was impressive, to say the least. But the eyes were empty, void of expression. The man whose body this was had died.
Anthony Klein, his name had been. A powerful wizard from an ancient line. It had been Anthony who had finally defeated the Outsiders. He had saved the Earth but been grievously injured in the process. His brain had been mostly destroyed in a final assassination attempt from the defeated aliens.
Things were peaceful now but someday, the Outsiders would be back. And there were no known wizards left on Earth. The practice had actually been outlawed more than a century before. Anthony Klein had been a hero, but his actions had been criminal, punishable by death. If there were other witches and wizards in hiding out there, it was unlikely they'd bear any love for the society that now needed them.
But there might be another way. Sorcery was a combination of training and a blood enzyme that enabled a human to do magic. The earlier one started training, the more of the enzyme would build up in the blood. It took time. And there were some who had been born with high levels of the enzyme, but had started training too late to ever be powerful.
Melanie was one of these. Her enzyme levels were at 64%. Far beneath Anthony Klein's 99.7%, but still higher than anybody else tested.
So this incubation project had been launched. Anthony Klein's body had been preserved, kept artificially alive, and fitted with computer processors and cybernetics. Melanie had been sealed in this orbital pod with the cyborg. No other duties. No other people. Her assignment was to get the Cyber-Assisted Biological Unit, CABU for short, to inseminate her. If she couldn't be the next great wizard of Earth, she could be its mother. The great wizard's spellbooks had been located. Melanie could manage a few of the simpler spells. But she could also start the training of a new wizard while teaching him to be loyal to the planetary government.
"Ready again, Cabu? So soon? It's only been an hour since the last time." Melanie stopped out of her robe and stood naked before him. She studied his dick, watching for a reaction.
Portions of the wizard's brain remained undamaged, and sometimes, the sight of the female form was enough to trigger a natural male response. And Melanie knew she looked good to men. Smooth, cappuccino skin, high tits with rosy nipples, a narrow waist flaring out to generous hips had always attracted masculine attention. Her face was pretty enough to inspire invitations and wistful sights, although the technicians running this project were undecided whether Cabu could recognize "pretty."
The techs had nearly come to blows over Melanie's pubic hair. She had stood before the group of them, naked and embarrassed, as they fiercely debated the issue. Doctor Thomas Alexi had stood up and pointed angrily at her crotch. "The unit's rudimentary brain functions will be expecting this dark triangle and respond," he'd insisted, his finger brushing Melanie's soft hairs as he gestured.
Doctor Lysette Winter had disagreed. She had ordered Melanie to sit in a chair. Then she'd used her fingers to push the hairs away from Melanie's sex, baring her pussy lips for the techs and military advisers to see. "This is what men want. A man's primitive brain knows exactly what's hidden by the hair and he will responds to the sight of it. I'll bet every dick in this room is as hard as a rock right now."
A compromise had been reached. Melanie's pussy lips had been denuded of all hair, but a small triangular patch had been left for visibility just above her opening. She was uncomfortable being so exposed, but she would have to get used to it. There was no going back. The alteration was permanent. An actress in Montreal, with 57% of the enzyme, and an inmate in Dublin, with 54%, were being prepped for their turns in this pod. But if this breeding were successful, then Cabu would be put on ice for a few years, while his progeny learned to walk and talk, then he'd be revived to sire siblings. It would be more efficient if Melanie had remained in committee-approved pussy readiness.
But first, she had to make this breeding successful. Melanie needed to focus on the task at hand. The cyborg wasn't cooperating. The computer could make him walk around and move his arms and fingers, but the computer didn't understand sexual desire or stimulation.
Sometimes, Melanie's naked body was enough to make Cabu hard. Other times, just the sound of her voice could do it. But this time, he was hanging flaccid.
"Too soon, I think," Melanie told him. "You just fucked me an hour ago. That computer measures sperm count, but doesn't take recovery time into account." She had noted that in her log.
But there was a solution. Melanie approached the cyborg and dropped to her knees. No man alive could resist a blowjob. And though the wizard himself was dead, his penis was alive and well.
Melanie actually preferred starting this way. She had long ago learned to accept that her very presence could produce erections in men, but it took a bit longer to prepare herself for penetration. And a blowjob was extremely effective.
She rubbed her cheek against his soft cock and pressed her nose to his balls. Inhaling the musky scent started her juices flowing. She kissed the wrinkly skin, offering whispered blessings to the little swimmers inside.
"Good luck, boys. And good journey. Invade and conquer. You find that egg and make her your bitch. I am ripe for your occupation."
Down on the planet, techs, doctors, and military figures observed the habitation pod 24 hours a day. The psychologists had expressed some concern over Melanie's habit of talking to Cabu's cock and balls. They worried that it might be a sign of mental instability. Such things could be passed on, and a crazy wizard might be worse than no wizard at all.
Melanie had defended her words as being necessary to her own arousal. It was quickly pointed out that the female arousal was not required for conception. Doctor Robin Chisolm had suggested that if the situation had been reversed and it had been Melanie's brain that was damaged, this whole thing would be simpler. They could have simply kept her on life support and various males could have simply climbed on, one by one, until she was pregnant.
They could have harvested the wizard's sperm, of course, with a plastic cup and a volunteer's friendly hand, but getting the sperm where it needed to be was less easy. Artificial insemination had an unacceptably low rate of success. Too many sperm cells died before implantation. The most efficient way of getting a girl pregnant was still penis in vagina, spurt, spurt, spurt.
Melanie had argued that while Doctor Chisolm was undeniably correct; female arousal is not necessary for conception, an unlubricated vagina can cause intercourse to be painful for both male and female, which might inhibit Cabu's responses, and artificial lubrication would take extra time, and everyone on Earth was eagerly watching every clock and calendar, hoping each time that this would be the fuck that planted the seed.
Melanie had also pointed out that if female arousal was so irrelevant, there was no possibility that a project of this importance would be shut down over such a thing. With the legislature out of session, it would take six months just to get approval and funding to open the pod prematurely and send a shuttle crew up to do it. By that point, this phase would be over anyway, either with a successful conception or with a replacement female installed.
And, finally, Melanie had communicated, since it was Lieutenant Melanie Cordova's pussy on the line, and the psychologists were all safely on-world, Doctor Robin Chisolm and her colleagues could all go fuck themselves.
So Melanie continued to speak to the wizard's cock and ignored the cameras and microphones that monitored everything she did. These recordings would be studied by generations of scientists and historians. If the project were successful, her every move and word would be regarded as wise and heroic. Her bare pussy would be displayed in global network video and lauded as the doorway by which heroes had entered the world.
"Heroes," she said to the cock. "It is your duty to plant them inside me." She kissed the shaft, and licked it. She rubbed her face all over the wizard's wand, letting the scent of him be absorbed into her pores.
He smelled of masculinity and of the antiseptic rinse the machines cleaned him with between sessions. But most of all, he smelled of pussy. It is not a perfume that fades quickly, and Cabu had been dipping his dick in Melanie eight to twelve times a day for almost a month.
