Pilot

"Good morning, Jack Tanner," chimed the soothing voice of the computer. "Chief Engineer Bu will be picking you up from your quarters in thirty minutes."

Jack groggily wiped the sleep from his eyes. He reached between his legs to scratch his balls, but when his hand encountered nothing but smooth insectoid plates, his eyes shot open. Dreams that were mundane and subdued faded and gave way to the fantastic and bizarre memories of the day before. He groaned and withdrew his hand from his featureless groin.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, stood, and stepped forward, dragging his abdomen off the bed behind him, and the sheet with it. It swung forward and slapped the back of his knees, almost sending him to the floor. To his dismay, his gaster was heavier than he remembered, and noticeably bloated. He waddled to the bathroom and took a shower. The running water did a great job of soothing his nerves-

Until he noticed all the hair running down the drain.

He leapt out and toweled himself off. More body hair came off as he rubbed himself dry. Leg hair, chest hair, armpit hair, the only hair on his body that remained was the stuff on the top of his head. The face in the mirror showed no sign of morning stubble. He stroked his fingers over the skin and shuddered.

He was beyond hairless. His skin was perfectly smooth, seemingly bereft of follicles and pores and everything that gave human flesh its subtle texture.

Jack scrambled to his room's control panel, and called Cand-e. She was at his door in less than a minute, looking as sexy as ever and holding a small, white bag with a red cross on it. He thanked her for coming on such short notice.

"It's no problem at all. I do love it when my patients invite me to their quarters and show a little extra skin." She winked as she entered the room. "Take a seat on the bed. Let's have a look at you."

As he struggled to find a sitting position that didn't pinch his gaster, Cand-e opened up her bag and withdrew a device that looked like a small, featureless dildo.

"Oh, um maybe you misunderstood," he said, "I didn't call you here for that. I mean, it's not that I didn't enjoy myself yesterday. I did, but there's something wrong with my skin, and my hair is falling out-"

Cand-e giggled. "Someone's mind is in the gutter this morning. This is a medical scanner, silly."

Jack blushed. "Ah."

She twisted the base of the scanner, and it buzzed to life, just like a vibrator. She slid it up and down his body, looking focused and giving the occasional thoughtful "hmm." The touch tickled intensely, especially against his gaster, where she lingered for a few extra seconds.

"Well, well. It appears congratulations are in order. You are, indeed, pregnant."

Jack's stomach sank. "Are you sure?"

Cand-e smiled. "Absolutely. Your gaster is two and a half kilograms heavier than it was yesterday, and most of that weight comes from the eggs. You're carrying around quite a few. Would you like to know how many?"

"No!" Jack swallowed. "I mean, no. Sorry, I don't want to think about it. Besides, you're going to be able to remove it before they're. . . ready, right?"

Cand-e's smile faded. "I'm afraid that brings us back to your sudden pro-bono waxing. It appears that the Salekk organ isn't finished integrating itself into your system. It's enriching your blood with some sort of mutagenic compound that's changing you on a genetic level. The loss of your body hair, the disappearance of your pores. . . these are the first visible signs of the effect it's having on you. I can't even begin to design a separation procedure until your metamorphosis is complete."

"Metamorphosis!? I'm not turning into one of those bug things, am I?"

"No! Of course not. At least, I don't think so? The swelling of your nipples and breast tissue seem to indicate that you'll be keeping some mammalian features."

"Breast tissue?" Jack stared down at his chest. He had noticed that his nipples looked especially prominent this morning, but he'd chalked it up to not having any chest hair covering them. He tentatively pinched one and flinched at its unexpected tenderness. It throbbed and hardened in response, swelling larger than a male nipple had any business being.

He asked Cand-e a litany of questions, but she didn't have any answers. She reassured him that she would study the data she gathered during the scan and let him know as soon as she had any more information.

"Give me a call if you need my services," she said, standing. "Any of my services."

She turned and was out the door before she had a chance to see Jack blush.

Bu was due to pick him up any minute. Not wanting to answer the door naked, he opened up his luggage and pulled out one of his hoodies. None of his pants would fit, so he wrapped the bedsheet around his waist like a makeshift skirt.

When the upbeat hyena arrived, the first thing he did was ask her how to get a new outfit. She tilted her head.

"I suppose. . . We should have just enough time before our meeting with the captain."

She led Jack down a new set of corridors. A lot more people glanced at the bulge in the back of his sheet, now that there was no red alert distracting them. He steeled his nerves and soldiered on, telling himself it would only be for a few more minutes before he was properly covered. Bu noticed his discomfort and smirked.

"Someone told me humans from your era were super uncomfortable about sex. Said you guys didn't even like to show your ankles off."

"No, nothing like that. That was a couple hundred years before me. We were pretty chill."

Bu looked thoughtful. "Is that so? Why don't you lose the sheet, then? No one would stop you, and it's probably a lot more comfortable."

"Uh. . . I don't think so."

She snorted. "That's what I thought. I'll never understand humanity's obsession with modesty. My people, the Coba, are nudists. We wear armor and camouflage during war, and that's it. Covering yourself is considered rude, suspicious, or even hostile."

Jack examined the skimpy bathing suit of an outfit the hyena was wearing. "If that's true, why aren't you naked right now?"

Bu sighed. "It's an Earth Empire thing. All officers have to wear a uniform that covers their 'privates.' This is the most minimal outfit they offer."

"Well it certainly doesn't leave much to the imagination."

Bu smiled. "You think so? Ah, you're such a sweetie. Thanks."

They arrived at one of the ship's Autotailors. Bu tapped a button on the side, and a human-sized, cylindrical chamber opened up.

"Step onto the scanner so the machine can take your measurements."

Jack stepped inside. No sooner had a beam of light swept over his body than Bu was swiping through menus on the display cooing and snorting at previews of potential outfits. He moved to look, but she blocked his view.

"I want to see!"

"Nonsense," she chuckled, making a selection. "I know more about modern fashion than you. Trust me, you'll love it."

A pile of folded clothes flopped onto the dispenser platform. Jack grabbed the bundle and ducked into the dressing chamber. The elastic top was easy enough to figure out, but it took him a moment to figure out that the fasteners for his pants were in the rear, leaving an adjustable hole for his abdomen to poke through. He marveled at how perfect the fit was. It maintained his flexibility while resting flush against his skin. To his dismay, the crotch area tight enough that he could see the imprint of his chitinous plates. If he'd still had a penis, there wouldn't have been any room for it.

He glanced in the mirror and had mixed feelings. The tight outfit made his body look slender. The cut was elegant and the muted green-blue tones were equally aesthetically pleasing. But the tightness of his crotch embarrassed him, and it left his gaster even more uncovered than before.

Jack poked his head out of the dressing chamber. "I think I forgot to grab the piece that covers up my. . . butt thing."

"Let's have a look at you," Bu said, grasping his hand and coaxing him into the open. "It looks good on you! Very handsome."

"But my-"

"I see it like this: If you put a sock over that thing, people will think it's something to be ashamed of. Wear it out, and you show strength and confidence."

"Well I don't want people looking at it," Jack said, ducking back into the changing room. He draped the sheet he'd brought over his egg sack, and stuffed the extra fabric into the back of his pants to keep it in place. He gave one last tug and heard a riiip as the two spindles at the end of his gaster poked through the sheet. Now the outline of his vulva was clear against the thin fabric, but it was better than nothing.

As they made their way to the meeting, several crewmen gawked at Jack, furrowed their brows, and whispered amongst themselves. Jack blushed. It seemed like just as many people were looking, but now they had a mystery to talk about. A small part of him found the fact that they were whispering about his sex organs thrilling, but he pushed those feelings down.

Captain Sarr's ready room was right next to the bridge. It had the look of a sophisticated, private office. Antique african masks gazed from the walls over a small collection of model spacecraft that seemed to represent different periods in history. A large aquarium built into the wall behind the captain's chair doubled as the room's window. A lionfish drifted through the stars like a massive interstellar serpent.

The captain greeted them warmly and invited them to take a seat. Camille, who was already present, did her best to ignore Jack as he sat next to her. Captain Sarr ignored the tension in the room and got straight to business.

"We think we may have found a way to get you two back to the year 2019."

Camille and Jack snapped to attention.

"How?" asked Camille. "What do we have to do?"

Bu explained. "As you know, The Salekk's teleporter interfered with our own and ripped a hole in space-time. As soon as we noticed the problem, we reversed our beam and tried to recover our man. Unfortunately, we ended up grabbing you two instead. That was my B. And, uh, I'd like to apologize.

"I was surprised because holes like that usually close themselves up in a couple nanoseconds, but then I realized that our teleporter beam was stabilizing the tear. I stopped trying to grab things from the other side, but I kept the beam engaged. It's still open right now."

"All we need to do," said the captain, "is get you two into a lifeboat and send you back through the rift to your own time."

Camille gripped her chair in excitement. "That's great!"

"There's one catch," the captain said flatly. "We need to send you over in a spacecraft. Even our lifeboats are extremely expensive, and I'm not sending another pilot on a one-way trip to the past."

Jack furrowed his brow. "Another?"

The captain nodded. "That's right. The representative we attempted to send to the Salekk ship was one of my best pilots. We're considering him a lost cause."

Everyone was silent. Then Jack spoke.

"I could fly the ship."

Camille rolled her eyes. "Shut up, Jack. They need a real space pilot."

"I'm serious! I've clocked thousands of hours in spaceflight simulators. How different could it be? I could learn."

Captain Sarr gazed thoughtfully out of her aquarium window. "I suppose we could train you. It should be a straightforward flight. . ."

Just then, there was a loud rumble and the ship shook slightly. Again, the captain didn't flinch.

"Another warning shot," she explained, "just the Salekk reminding us that they're waiting. Until we get this political situation figured out, they'll no doubt fire on any lifeboats we launch. They claim they've already shared information with us, and they seem to be referring to you, Jack. Can you offer us any insight? Maybe they implanted knowledge in your brain. Think hard. Do you know anything about them?"

Jack squinted his eyes and searched his memories, but the only forthcoming moments were ones where he made some horrible social faux pas. That was normal.

"Sorry. There's nothing."

"Well we have nine days left to solve the mystery. Bu, do you think you could keep the teleporter engaged for that long?"

"Maybe. It would take a lot of work. We're already setting a record for the longest engaged beam. Parts will burn out, need to be replaced. . . But I think it's possible."

"Well then, Mr. Tanner, I'd like to get you into the flight training as soon as possible. I'll have have Ensign Lauren pick you up for your first lesson."

Bu cut in. "Ma'am I'd like permission to oversee Mr. Tanner's flight training. I've been his point of contact so far, no reason to change that now."

Captain Sarr nodded. "Very well, but keeping that anomaly open is your top priority. Understood?"

"Yes Ma'am."

The meeting was dismissed. Camille wished Jack luck, but didn't stick around to chat. Normally her aloof attitude would send his mind spiralling into a self-conscious rabbit hole, but he was too excited about what was coming next to care. He was going to learn to fly a spaceship!

He briskly followed Bu to flight school, asking a million questions a minute. He had grand visions of blasting out into the cosmos, dodging asteroids, and slingshotting off of gravitational fields, but when he arrived, he found himself in a room that looked more like a science lab than a docking bay.

"Where are the spaceships?" he asked.

"Woah there, hot shot," Bu chuckled. "You're not ready for the real deal just yet. There's a training program you need to complete first."

"Oh." Jack frowned as she led him to a small chamber. Inside, there was a replica of what he assumed was a lifeboat's cockpit. There were dozens of switches and dials, a control stick not unlike the one he'd learned to fly with back on earth, and vast plates of dark glass that he recognized as powered-down control panels. In the center of it all was a swiveling pilot's chair not unlike the captain's chair on the bridge.

He reached out a trembling hand and touched the chair.

"Go ahead," Bu said. "Take a seat."

He moved to sit in the chair, but, of course, he had to deal with his gaster once again. First he tried spreading his legs so it could rest in front of him, but that meant he had to lean way back and raise his feet. He tried sitting forward with the organ behind him, but he had to sit on the edge of the seat, and his gaster was uncomfortably squeezed between him and the backrest. He must have looked ridiculous.

Bu gave an amused huff and kneeled next to him. "Here, let me help." Without warning, she grasped his hand and guided it under the chair. Jack was surprised by the sudden contact, but she was gentle. Her hands felt strange around his with their short fingers, blunt claws, and raised pads. She pressed his finger against a button hidden under the seat and the backrest started to recline. It lowered much further than any chair Jack had seen, past 180 degrees until it was angled toward the ground.

"That should be better," Bu said, letting go of his hand. She then reached behind him, carefully wrapped her arms around his gaster, and shifted it into position. The touch sent a shiver of pleasure into Jack's belly. Did she realize she was handling his sex organ? Either way, the pressure felt heavenly. He shut his eyes and took a shuddering breath as she changed her grip and made some final adjustments.

"How's that?" she asked.

"Good," he said, as the familiar chill of moisture grew in his opening. "Maybe a little to the left?"

Bu shrugged and obliged, gently pressing on his gaster. Her paw lingered for a second longer than it had to.

"This is a wonderful piece of equipment."

Jack blushed. "That's what Cand-e said, but I'm still not used to-" he turned and noticed Bu looking around the cockpit. "Oh yeah, the simulator. Right. I'm sure it is."

"I'll be working right outside if you need anything, but the program should be able to answer most of your questions."

Jack thanked Bu for her help. As she left, he caught himself staring at her shapely ass until the door closed behind it. He took a moment to take a few deep breaths and center himself before starting the training program.

His excitement at the prospect of learning to fly a spaceship returned, but it was short lived. He was used to video game flight simulators, and the training program's pace was too slow. It introduced him to a few buttons and concepts at a time, never challenging him, never throwing him into the deep end and letting him fail.

Jack's mind began to wander. His pussy was still wet from the brief contact with Bu. He tried to stay focused on the training program, but lusty fantasies crept into the gaps between each deliberate thought.

By the time the session was over, his mind was so consumed with thoughts of sex that he'd failed the last lesson three times. Though the fact that each of his ship's "explosions" was accompanied by a rumbling vibration that sent a tingle of pleasure pulsing through his posterior didn't exactly inspire him to try very hard.

He stood up, glanced around the simulator, and groaned at what he found. The back of his chair glistened with lubricant from his oversized sex. The sheet he'd used as a makeshift gaster cover was soaked in his juices, forming a big dark patch over the mound of his pussy that dripped sticky strands of lubricant. Cursing under his breath, Jack frantically tried to wipe the seat clean with his sleeve, but all he managed to do was spread a shiny slick of lubricant onto his outfit.

He opened the door to find Bu standing on the other side.

"There you are! Thought you might have gotten stuck. How was it?"

Jack swallowed and edged past her, muttering something about how great it was and oh, the chamber could use a little cleaning. Bu looked confused, but before she had a chance to ask him anything he was out the door, racing toward his quarters.

Back in his room, Jack paced to and fro nervously stewing in the embarrassment of the mess he'd made. He paced and paced until his foot slipped on a wet spot, and he nearly fell. More lubricant. This was getting ridiculous. What was going on back there?

He sighed and laid on his bed. He spread his legs, curled his egg sack up to his stomach, and pulled off the sopping wet sheet, giving himself a clear view of the fleshy folds of his opening.

Jesus, I really do have a vagina, Jack thought, staring down at his alien pussy. It was a lot larger than a normal, human vulva, but there was no mistaking the shape. Swollen inner-labia peeked between a pair of plump outer lips, making an inviting, vulgar target that protruded from the rest of his egg sack. The bizarre sight thrilled him, and he twiched his nethers, sending a few drops of moisture pattering onto his chest.

He reached a tentative finger down and touched the opening, but the spindles on either side of his opening twitched. He jumped at the sudden motion and immediately felt silly about it, considering the little limbs were under his complete control. He touched it again, flexed it against his grip, and slid his palm down its length to meet the rubbery lips of his sex. They were sensitive, but a light touch felt wonderful. He rubbed them, pinched them, stroked them. His fingertips traced around the plump folds and dipped inside.

Any reservations that he might have had were soon consumed by the ecstacy of playing with his pussy. One finger was joined by others, and before long he was all-out masturbating. His legs kicked the sheets, as he the room was filled with the sound of shaking breaths and the wet slicking of his fingers pumping in and out of his pussy.

He came quickly, but it wasn't enough. A single orgasm- even a gasping, moaning, eyes-rolling-into-the-back-of-his-head orgasm- did little to dispel the fog of lust that consumed his brain. It was only after an hour of constant self-pleasure that he started to feel himself again. He found himself lying panting on the sweaty sheets, hand wrist-deep in his sex. He relaxed his gaster, and it flopped onto the bed between his legs, spent. His hand came free with a audible slurp.