The Eden Protocols: A Bimbo Space Odyssey - Part Three
"Umm... Doctor, is this really part of the testing?" Harper's gentle brogue sounded uncertain. "Like, a proper medical procedure?"
"Mhmm! Definitely." Maeve confirmed, biting another strip of bandage tape off the roll. "I need clear readings of you in a heightened physical state. Dopamine, oxytocin, and endorphin levels. Hormones too. Complex neurochemical stuff."
"Ah, okay. If you say so..."
The increasingly well-padded redhead was sitting in her underwear on the sterile examination table. Not her old, boring underwear either. She had quickly outgrown the small white tank and strictly functional cotton mid-rise briefs in a state of fuzzy headed confusion. Once skinny hips, flat butt and petite titties now filled out a sheer violet balconette bra and crotchless polyvore thong with the curvaceous proportions of a silicone-pumped California beach bunny.
Lingerie helpfully provided by Perseus's perverted fabrication units.
An instrument tray sat on a wheeled trolley at Maeve's side, carefully arrayed with sex toys rather than surgical implements. She plucked up a little pink bullet, no larger than her thumb, and secured it over the highland hottie's protruding love button with the adhesive tape.
"It's just... What's happening to us, Doctor?" Harper asked, looking down at her inflated breasts in concern. They were the size of two succulent grapefruits, overflowing the gauzy bra cups on all sides, and still ripening. "We're gaining weight... or retaining water, maybe? I'm eating constantly but still hungry. Feeling funny in... places. Keep hearing weird noises from your office."
What was this "Us" and "We" business?
Maeve felt fine, and had begun rationing the last of the MRE meals she had stashed in her desk since Tucker had enforced his ship-wide lockdown as an added precaution. She wasn't going to consume the contaminated nutrient paste, despite the gut-grumbling temptation of so many extra calories and carbs to fuel her hyperactive sex drive.
Those freeze dried packets were disappearing fast though, the waste disposal unit was clogged with the silver foil packaging as she chewed her way through the limited supply in the breaks between molten hot sessions of voyeuristic self-stimulation.
"Tell me about your discoveries on the hydroponics deck, Dear." Maeve said, ignoring the redhead's concerns as her hands hovered over a set of sparkly nipple clamps with yellow tassels. "You mentioned unusual plant activity, but didn't go into much detail."
Harper had spent the four hours since returning with her face buried in bowl after bowl of chemically flavored slurry. Scarfing it down like a starving piglet, too busy to talk except in quick snatches between heaping helpings. Maeve didn't mind, she had actively encouraged the gluttonous behavior. Smiling motherly reassurance at the young woman each time she handed her a fresh serve of the brown muck.
Observe. Take readings and measurements. Replicate the previous result.
"Um, yeah. The nursery beds are a mass of rampant overgrowth. It looks like a rainforest up there now." Harper shivered as Maeve tugged the front of her down enough for a hard pink nipple to slip out. It only took a twitch. "We're only supposed to cultivate seedlings. Sorting and replanting everything after landfall is going to be a headache. Hey, are you really going to--
Aaah!"
She shrilled as the tiny metal clamp pinched onto her stiff nip. They had to be sensitive after so much swelling and stretching of freckly skin. Maeve's certainly were; bare, braless and rubbing against the buttoned up lab coat that concealed her currently topless condition.
The good Doctor had tied lengths of colored string to each gaudy gewgaw in a child-like imitation of wires and told Harper they were probes. The threads didn't even lead anywhere, just wrapped messily around the beeping heart monitor of all things, but the burgeoning redhead hadn't questioned her poor excuse for faux medical instruments.
Just watched on with placid doe eyes locked onto the lurid layout of sexual stimulators, licking brown residue off her thickening lips.
"Fascinating," Maeve murmured, giving the tassel an experimental tweak and nodding in satisfaction at the little squeak she elicited in response. "And the algae vats showed similar signs of increased activity?"
"Ye--Yes... the humidity and UV output is cranked... so high, the kelp has outgrown... the aqua-farms and is... climbing up the walls."
Harper's breaths were coming short and fast as she watched Maeve's dexterous fingers pluck out the other fat nipple and fasten the next clamp to it with surgical precision.
Her moan was soft and sweet. Coinciding with a telling wriggle of those broadening hips.
Maeve marveled at how compliant the flame-haired botanist had become. Harper had been feisty as any Scotswoman upon awakening from stasis. Hard nosed and full of brash questions with no time for social niceties when it came to the job.
All business. No fun at all.
A genuine firecracker searching for a spark to light her fuse so she could shower her peevish snark on the undeserving and dim-witted. Maeve had needed to tread carefully at first, put a good amount of spin on their troublesome circumstances, and emphasize her status as head physician to get the young hothead on firmly side.
It was astounding what a little direction, a big appetite, and a few gallons of processed paste could do...
"That is very helpful information. Thank you, Dear." She crooned, giving the second tassel a sharp pull. Another cute sound in reply. "You were such a brave girl for fetching us those samples. The computer is analyzing them now, I am certain Mister Evans will be very interested in the results."
"Mister Evans? Who...
Oooh~!"
The freckled cutie almost melted when Maeve activated the vibrating bullet taped over her engorged bud. It was one of the few implements that had a real, actual wire attached, running to the remote in her hand. She had it on the lowest of six invigorating settings, but that alone was enough to turn Harper's superbly stacked body into warm butter.
"Mister Evans is a dear friend, and a very powerful, important man." She stated casually, setting the remote back on the surgical trolley to pick up a rubberized 'Tucker 2.0' for critical inspection. "He's working diligently to find a way to rescue us all from the nasty AI and has a big, virile dick to reward good girls who do their part to help him."
The Tucker 2.0 was much larger than the previous Junior model by necessity. The man himself had been growing in phallic prowess by the hour. Fueled by riotous sex, countless bowls of nutrient paste and, in a more recent development... breast milk.
Both Charlotte and Grace's already titanic tits had begun to produce shortly after he had packed their fertile wombs full of his potent manseed. It was a ridiculously rapid reaction to insemination. Appearing only a few hours after he came for the first time inside their lucky, good girl cunts.
It hadn't been noticeable at first.
Finally succumbing to the siren call of hot, tight, fertile pussy seemed to have broken something in Tucker. Unleashed a feral, primal side of him that involved a lot of sticky bodily fluids getting indiscriminately sprayed about. It was as though some invisible umpire had cried "Play ball!" on breeding and the mouth-watering super stud couldn't stop rounding the bases.
What had begun as a small trickle of creamy white, lost amongst the copious loads blown upon the two sets of hugely inflated chests, had soon become milky rivulets, then free flowing fountains of ivory lactate that were hard to ignore.
