The war against the humans was over
Four years of hard fighting for absolutely nothing
Our proud fleet shattered, our soldiers scattered, our home system occupied by the very creatures we thought weak
Suppose we deserve it—we attacked first
But the shame still stung, lingering like an untreated wound
Released from the holding camps six months ago, now back in what was left of the capital
Everything felt alien—how ironic
Posters in human script plastered over our once-proud statues
Advertisements for Earth products: "Taste the future!" "Rebuild together!"
Humans standing on every corner, their rifles slung casually, but their eyes watchful
They’d even started… relationships with the locals
Absurd, but some seemed genuine
Couldn’t tell if it was worse to see a former neighbor chatting with a human soldier or her glaring at me with contempt
Missing too much to rebuild properly myself
The eye patch chafes where my left eye used to be, a brutal reminder of the final planetary skirmishes
The lack of my right arm rackles me to no end, and no replacement anytime soon since it seems all the infrastructure for anything that could be used for the military was bombed from orbit.
Walking through the market one day, trying to stretch my legs while enduring the pitying and disdainful glances from both humans and my own people
Spotted someone in the distance who looked… familiar
Shorter than I remembered, but that distinctive shimmer of her feathers, pale violet with streaks of gold, was unmistakable
It was Shira, my bondmate before the war
Hoped I was wrong, hoped it was just someone with similar features
But then she turned, laughing at something
Standing beside her, hand resting lightly on her lower back, was a human
A tall, broad-shouldered male, his uniform crisp, a Medal glinting on his chest
They looked happy
My chest tightened as I froze in place, unsure whether to approach or disappear
She spotted me before I could decide
Her eyes widened, then softened with recognition and… guilt?
She broke away from the human, walking toward me hesitantly, her hand fidgeting with the hem of her dress—a dress, for void’s sake with a gilded collar around her slim neck to match.
"Vyrak," she said cautiously, her voice gentle
Seeing her so… soft, so different, was almost more jarring than the human at her side
Could barely force the words out
"Shira. I didn’t expect… this."
The human, John I guess based on his uniform tag spoke up.
"You know him?" His voice was steady and calm, but the subtle narrowing of his eyes hinted at a touch of concern.
Shira glanced back at him briefly, her feathers ruffling slightly in a way I recognized all too well—nervous, >uneasy. "Yes, John. This is Vyrak. We... knew each other before."
John nodded, his posture relaxing slightly, though his gaze didn’t leave me. "Ah, I see. A friend, then?"
I wanted to laugh at that, bitterly, but the sound caught in my throat. Friend? Bondmate, John. The person I had once planned to spend my entire life with. But that was before the war before everything shattered.
"Something like that," I said finally, my voice low and rough.
Shira flinched at the edge in my tone, her feathers bristling ever so slightly before settling again. "Vyrak, I—"
"Don't," I cut her off, the single word harsher than I intended. Her guilt, her hesitation, it only made things worse.
Behind her, John stood quietly, his hand resting near his hip, close to his weapon.
He wasn’t stupid; he was ready if this conversation turned ugly. But the calm in his eyes—something about it made my anger falter, if only slightly.
I stared at her, at the human standing protectively behind her, and felt an unfamiliar ache in my chest. It wasn’t just anger or betrayal—it was something deeper. Loss.
"I should go," I muttered, turning to leave. "Enjoy your new life, Shira. It suits you."
Days passed. Weeks, maybe.
Finding work proved impossible. Nobody wanted to hire a one-armed ex-soldier with a short temper and nothing to offer but bitterness.
The little money I had dwindled to nothing.
My feathers grew dull, my remaining arm weaker.
I was homeless and starving
I slept in the ruins of what used to be a council building, curling up on cold stone at night while the humans patrolled outside, oblivious
I finally cracked after a month of living on scraps and pity and looked into the human-funded relief efforts
Even the human work programs had nothing for a while
I wasn't smart enough for any research work and I was useless for manual labor due to my injuries, even the call centers set up for 'cases' like mine turned me down due to my emotional state
Finally, after days of living in the shelters set up by the admittedly magnanimous humans, I was called into the newly constructed recruitment center. one of the first major Infrastructure projects set about.
The recruitment center was a sterile, metal-clad building—efficient, like everything built to human standards
Inside, I was herded into a room with others like me: defeated, broken, desperate.
A human clerk glanced at my file and barely masked her distaste.
I was part of the war since the start, even part of the task force that burned the human fleet in anchorage above Hanauma 5 early on, a good op that should have crippled the human's capacity to wage war for good.
It only made them mad
“You’ll do,” she said after a moment. “One of our, uh, specialty roles.”
I didn’t ask what she meant. At that point, I didn’t care
The training was... humiliating.
They dressed me in soft, elaborate garments that felt alien against my scales and feathers. Makeup to “accentuate” what they called my “exotic features.”
Words like “submission” and “obedience” were drilled into me until they made my skin crawl.
I was to be arm candy for human dignitaries
A propaganda piece meant to encourage tourism in our sector of space and attract the big human corpos into investing.
in short I was to be a whore in all but title.
I suppose to the humans we all looked the same as the doctor inspecting me put it " four feet eight inches in height, wide inviting hips, colorful and cute feather patterns, a pullable tail, sensual tongue and naturally plump lips, shes perfect!" so why would it matter if one was a boy or a girl? as long as they though I looked cute it didn't matter
at least during training I had a private room and actual food and not the Shit human rations they gave out everyday.
Though every day was a new low, courses on how to properly please a human ranging from cooking and conversation to even fornication!
The worst part of it was when they had us pick up supplies to practice alone, it a box of sex toys and lube.
the indignity!
It was humiliating, it was degrading, but it payed, and I got free housing and food.
Weeks turned into months, and the training became routine
Humiliation dulls over time, I guess
Still, some part of me screamed with shame every time I looked in the mirror
The bright silks and jewelry, the way they taught me to move, speak, smile—none of it felt real
Every morning, I’d wake up and wonder if I’d finally lost the last piece of myself
But the pay was real, the food was warm, and I wasn’t freezing on a crumbling floor anymore
My first assignment came faster than I expected
“You’re ready,” the handler told me, barely looking up from her clipboard
Ready for what? I wanted to ask, but I already knew the answer
The venue was one of the newly rebuilt hotels in the heart of the capital—gleaming and perfect, an insult to the ruins that surrounded it
I was told to accompany a human corporate executive to a “networking event”
Networking… sure.
The executive was a man named Carter—middle-aged, sharp-dressed, and radiating smug self-importance
When he saw me, his grin widened, and I felt a chill crawl down my spine
“Ah, you’re even better than they said,” he murmured, his eyes roaming over me in a way that made my feathers bristle
I wanted to claw his face off, but I bowed instead, just as I’d been trained
The event was lavish, humans and my own people mingling uneasily under glittering chandeliers
Everywhere I turned, there were smiles that didn’t reach the eyes and laughter that sounded hollow
Carter kept me close, his hand lingering on my ass and tail, his fingers brushing my tail feathers like I was some exotic trophy
“Charming, isn’t she?” he’d say to his colleagues, and they’d nod appreciatively, as if I were a particularly fine wine
“Turn a little, sweetheart. Let them see those lovely colors.”
I Swallowed my pride, forced the smile, turned as instructed
Every second felt like I was suffocating
The night dragged on, each moment more unbearable than the last.
Carter’s hand was never far from me, a constant reminder of my degradation.
I hated the way he spoke about me, as though I couldn’t hear, couldn’t understand, As if I wasn’t a person at all.
“You know,” he said at one point, swirling a glass of human champagne, “she’s from one of the warrior castes. Used to be a soldier, can you believe that?”
His audience chuckled, murmurs of fascination passing through them.
“Really?” one of them asked, a woman with an icy smile. “You’d never guess. She’s so… docile now.”
The word hit me like a slap.
Carter grinned, clearly enjoying the attention.
“It’s all about training,” he said smoothly, his hand sliding lower on my back.
My feathers bristled involuntarily, but I forced them down, my expression frozen in that hollow, practiced smile.
“You just have to show them their place.”
I wanted to scream. To lash out. To make them see that I wasn’t some broken pet to be paraded around.
But I didn’t.
Couldn’t.
Instead, I endured.
Nodded when spoken to, laughed when prompted, and pretended I didn’t feel their gazes stripping away what little dignity I had left.
The room spun around me in a haze of humiliation and despair.
At one point, Carter’s grip tightened on my tail, and I couldn’t help but wince.
He noticed, of course, leaning down to whisper in my ear.
“Careful, darling,” he murmured, his breath hot and sickening against my feathers. “Wouldn’t want to give the wrong impression.”
The wrong impression.
As if there was anything left to misunderstand about my situation.
Hours later, the event finally began to wind down.
he lead me to his hotel room, I know whats going to happen now
He didn’t even try to hide his intentions.
The smug grin, the way his hand lingered on me as we walked down the hallway—it was all so painfully obvious.
Each step toward his hotel room felt heavier than the last, the weight of my situation pressing down on me like a crushing tide.
The door clicked shut behind us, and Carter wasted no time.
"strip, show me that pretty body"
and I did, I didn't want too, but I let my training take over, I put my mind to kicking off the locally made heels
slowly dragging down the pink human panties being sure to drag it out as long as possible before pulling down each shoulder strap and slipping out of it, exposing my body to the cold air
Carter was silent for a while, simply staring before getting up and locking himself in the bathroom.
"Why does she Have A DICK!" I Hear him shout through the door, probably at whoever sent me too him.
The shout echoed through the room, and for a moment, I just stood there, frozen, my feathers bristling with a mix of confusion, humiliation, and… something bordering on dark amusement.
Of all the reactions I’d imagined, this hadn’t even crossed my mind.
Carter stormed out of the bathroom a moment later, his face red with fury and embarrassment.
“Did they think this was funny?!” he hissed, pacing the room. “Sending this—” he gestured wildly at me, as though I were some defective product. “—to me?!”
I said nothing, keeping my expression neutral, though inside I could feel a spark of bitter satisfaction.
The man who had spent the entire evening treating me like a prize, an object, now stood there seething, his fragile ego clearly bruised.
"Just go sit in the corner you fucking Fag bird, their sending me a replacement a real bird bitch not—" he gestures to me again "—whatever the FUCK you are"
A few minutes later there's a knock on the door
Carter stomped to the door, yanking it open with an irritated huff.
A young human woman stood there, dressed in an immaculate uniform, her expression unreadable.
“Your replacement has arrived,” she said briskly, stepping aside to reveal another avian figure— every bit the "perfect trophy" Carter had expected.
Her feathers gleamed under the hallway light, meticulously preened, her expression blank and compliant.
“About time,” Carter grumbled, gesturing impatiently for her to enter.
As she stepped inside, her eyes flicked toward me for the briefest of moments, a glimmer of recognition—or perhaps pity—before her gaze dropped again.
Carter, oblivious, brought the girl in and slammed the door in the woman's face
he turned back from the door, his face a mix of lust and annoyance.
I speak up "can I go now sir?" looking up into his eyes as speaking as 'submissive' as I can
carter thinks for a second before getting an evil look on his face
"nah, you can watch you stupid fag"
My stomach churned, but I kept my expression neutral.
“Yes, sir,” I murmured, lowering my eyes
Carter’s smug grin returned as he turned his attention to the replacement, already stripping off his tie.
It seems the girl is much more into her job than I initially thought, as she begins to kiss and grope Carter a lustful look in her eyes
The human goes insane with lust not thinking the girl would be so forward, stripping off his clothes like they were on fire
The toys you practiced on were some of the biggest you ever saw, massive plastic interpretations of what a real human penis would look like, right?
They were not.
if anything the toys were small in comparison to this beast...
my member looked small compared to the toys, to his tool?
it looked minuscule
and like a rabid dog Carter pushes his prey to the bed and gets too work
Screaming, moaning, and the slapping of flesh against flesh fill the room, and soon a fourth and even fifth sounds >join the choir of lust, crying and whimpering.
The humiliation, the sheer and utter mockery of my life was too much and I simply broke down
I woke hours later with the sun filtering into the room through a window. it seems whatever else that happened during the night was too much, almost as if you blacked out
a small mercy, though it seems like I wasn't left alone during the night
The first thing I noticed was that I felt sticky
The second was that there was something metal on my cock
The last thing I felt was that there was something definitely inside me
I swore loudly
At least I was alone in the very nice room, the two probably leaving after their debauchery, and my defilement
I need a shower and the human coffee, the only good thing that rotten species has.
The full-length mirror in the bathroom did not help my mood
I was clearly coated in Carters semen, and someone decided it would be funny to tie a couple of used condoms to the cage crushing my member
at least the shower was nice...
I let the shower run as I tried my best to remove the little cage
Or at least get the damned condoms off
The latter was done easily enough, the cage was a different story, it had no keyhole or lock but it wasn't coming off
Another thing to worry about
Something was still lodged IN me
it wasn't very big whatever it was, but the way my clenched around it made me shiver
the lube they had used hadn't dried yet, so the process of pushing inside the relatively virgin hole that was my ass was made a bit easier, though pushing it out wasn't an option due to the shape of the intrusive item
I managed to latch on to whatever it was in me after several tries and pulled it out desperate to get it out of me
Evidently I pulled it out too fast, the raging hardon I had from me probing myself was made all the worse my the crushing metal cage restricting it
Finally with a mighty plop the foreign object was removed
A feeling of both satisfaction and emptiness flowed through me as I spied what was in me
it was the soap bottle
so that's where it went.
I looked further down, no longer feeling the constriction of the cage around me
I whimpered pathetically as I somehow managed to get off from pulling out the bottle
a stream of my seed leaking from the flat head of the metal prison
I let out a long sigh before looking to the shower
The shower was steaming up by now, and I had found the soap
I stepped into the shower, the water rushing over me like a cleansing torrent.
The temperature was perfect, hot enough to sting but not scalding, washing away the night's grime.
My feathers flattened under the water’s weight, slick and gleaming as the dirt, sweat, and lingering shame swirled down the drain.
Steam filled the glass enclosure, blurring the world outside, giving me a fleeting sense of solitude—like I could hide from everything, if only for a moment.
I padded out of the steamy bathroom, towel wrapped tightly around me, water dripping from my still-damp feathers.
The room was eerily quiet, the faint hum of the air conditioner the only sound.
My eyes darted to the chair where I’d left my clothes earlier.
Gone. Of course.
A sinking feeling settled in my stomach as I scanned the room, looking for any sign of my belongings.
Nothing.
not even the ridiculous heels they’d given me.
The only thing left was a flimsy hotel robe hanging by the closet—too small to cover much, but better than nothing.
I stared at the robe, hanging mockingly on the closet door.
Getting dressed with one arm wasn’t impossible—I’d learned to manage—but it wasn’t exactly a graceful process.
The slick fabric made it worse, sliding through my fingers as I tried to pull it around me.
After a few frustrating tries, I managed to drape it over my shoulder.
The sleeve dangled uselessly on my missing side, a silent reminder of everything I’d lost.
Tying the belt was another battle. With only one hand, it took several awkward tugs and some cursing to secure it.
I glanced at the mirror, catching sight of my reflection.
The robe hung unevenly, the empty sleeve folded awkwardly against my side. My eyepatch was damp, the strap digging into my temple.
I realized too late that I hadn’t taken off the eyepatch before showering.
Now it clung to my face, damp and uncomfortable, the strap chafing against my skin.
“Well, aren’t you just a picture of dignity,” I muttered, adjusting the robe as best I could.
Coffee. If there was one thing humans did right, it was coffee.
I shuffled out of the room, clutching the uneven robe tight around me with my good hand. The elevator ride down felt too long, the mirrored walls forcing me to confront my disheveled reflection.
I padded out of the steamy bathroom, towel wrapped tightly around me, water dripping from my still-damp feathers.
The room was eerily quiet, the faint hum of the air conditioner the only sound.
My eyes darted to the chair where I’d left my clothes earlier.
Gone. Of course.
A sinking feeling settled in my stomach as I scanned the room, looking for any sign of my belongings.
Nothing.
not even the ridiculous heels they’d given me.
The only thing left was a flimsy hotel robe hanging by the closet—too small to cover much, but better than nothing.
I stared at the robe, hanging mockingly on the closet door.
Getting dressed with one arm wasn’t impossible—I’d learned to manage—but it wasn’t exactly a graceful process.
The slick fabric made it worse, sliding through my fingers as I tried to pull it around me.
After a few frustrating tries, I managed to drape it over my shoulder.
The sleeve dangled uselessly on my missing side, a silent reminder of everything I’d lost.
Tying the belt was another battle. With only one hand, it took several awkward tugs and some cursing to secure it.
I glanced at the mirror, catching sight of my reflection.
The robe hung unevenly, the empty sleeve folded awkwardly against my side. My eyepatch was damp, the strap digging into my temple.
I realized too late that I hadn’t taken off the eyepatch before showering.
Now it clung to my face, damp and uncomfortable, the strap chafing against my skin.
“Well, aren’t you just a picture of dignity,” I muttered, adjusting the robe as best I could.
Coffee. If there was one thing humans did right, it was coffee.
I shuffled out of the room, clutching the uneven robe tight around me with my good hand. The elevator ride down felt too long, the mirrored walls forcing me to confront my disheveled reflection.
The lobby buzzed with morning activity. Guests milled about, mainly human guests chatting over pastries and fresh fruit at the complimentary breakfast spread. I kept my head low, avoiding eye contact.
The scent of freshly brewed coffee called to me, cutting through the haze of shame and exhaustion. I grabbed a cup and poured the steaming liquid, black and strong. No cream, no sugar. It's just raw, bitter energy.
A few people glanced my way—curiosity, pity, or judgment—but I ignored them. I sipped the coffee, letting the heat burn away the cold knot in my chest.
The recruitment center wasn’t far. A short walk through the crowded streets, the city was already alive with the noise of vehicles and voices. my bare claws clacking as I went.
I chugged the coffee as I went emptying it in minutes tossing it aside
Felt more Alive now at least
As I got closer I spotted a newly built and clearly human owned liquor store, its neon sign flickering to life in the late morning haze.
I stopped, my good hand twitching at the thought. A drink—something strong enough to drown out the echoes of Carter’s voice, the stares, the humiliation.
The door chimed as I entered, the cool air carrying the sharp scent of alcohol and cheap cleaning supplies. Shelves lined with colorful bottles stretched before me, each promising a brief reprieve.
The clerk, a wiry human with tired eyes, glanced up from his datapad. He barely spared me a second look, which was a relief.
I grabbed the biggest bottle I could carry, some form of vodka and walked out, the chip in my neck beeping in conformation of my purchase
The tag was a refitted POW identification chip the humans had implanted in me when I was captured near the end.
Back then, it was a constant reminder of my captivity—a cold, unfeeling device that tracked every movement I made and relayed the information straight to the camp guards.
they didn’t bother removing the chips. just reprogrammed them.
Turning them into multipurpose tools. Now, the chip acts as a universal ID, a credit chit, and even a passcode for certain restricted areas I’m authorized to access.
“Convenient,” the humans called it
Sure, it’s useful. I can buy things without needing physical currency, which is more than some of my kind can say. It syncs seamlessly with human systems, so I can walk into a store, grab what I need, and leave without even speaking to a clerk. But every beep, every transaction, feels like a reminder
They can still track us with it if they want to. That’s the part they don’t mention—the lingering thread of control woven into the thing.
If one of us steps out of line, the chip will let them know. Maybe not instantly, but the threat is there, humming quietly under the surface like a latent disease.
They only gave the tags to the soldiers and those they thought would be dangerous hardliners.
Admittedly, it was the right idea—at least from their perspective.
They didn’t want veterans like me stirring up trouble, rallying the others, or starting another war.
I couldn’t even argue with the logic. If the tables were turned, we probably would’ve done the same.
It’s just that being on this side of it makes it all the more bitter.
still, It didn’t matter. The vodka was in my hand, and for now, that was all I cared about.
I enter the center, bottle in hand|
can't hide it but I try to act as non nonchalant as one can only wearing a bathrobe
Just as I walk past the front desk, almost home free. the receptionist spins around in her chair
"What do you think you're doing with that?" she called out, her voice as cold as the polished tile floor.
"I’m going to my room," I muttered, trying to walk out of her site to the elevators
"Not with that, you’re not," she snapped, holding her hand out, a look of judgment heavy on her face.
Turning them into multipurpose tools. Now, the chip acts as a universal ID, a credit chit, and even a passcode for certain restricted areas I’m authorized to access.
“Convenient,” the humans called it
Sure, it’s useful. I can buy things without needing physical currency, which is more than some of my kind can say. It syncs seamlessly with human systems, so I can walk into a store, grab what I need, and leave without even speaking to a clerk. But every beep, every transaction, feels like a reminder
They can still track us with it if they want to. That’s the part they don’t mention—the lingering thread of control woven into the thing.
If one of us steps out of line, the chip will let them know. Maybe not instantly, but the threat is there, humming quietly under the surface like a latent disease.
They only gave the tags to the soldiers and those they thought would be dangerous hardliners.
Admittedly, it was the right idea—at least from their perspective.
They didn’t want veterans like me stirring up trouble, rallying the others, or starting another war.
I couldn’t even argue with the logic. If the tables were turned, we probably would’ve done the same.
It’s just that being on this side of it makes it all the more bitter.
still, It didn’t matter. The vodka was in my hand, and for now, that was all I cared about.
I enter the center, bottle in hand|
can't hide it but I try to act as non nonchalant as one can only wearing a bathrobe
Just as I walk past the front desk, almost home free. the receptionist spins around in her chair
"What do you think you're doing with that?" she called out, her voice as cold as the polished tile floor.
"I’m going to my room," I muttered, trying to nudge myself out of her sight to the elevators
"Not with that, you’re not," she snapped, holding her hand out, a look of judgment heavy on her face.
My first instinct was to tell her to fuck off, but that would just make things worse, so I hesitated.
The elevator was only a few steps away, and I’d already come this far. But it wasn’t worth getting in trouble.
Begrudgingly, I walked back and I held the bottle out toward her, my knuckles white from the grip.
Without a word, she took the bottle from my hand and placed it under the desk.
I turned to leave, my prize lost and hopes dashed
the receptionist's voice cut through the silence again, more chipper this time.
"Oh, and by the way," she said, her tone a little too sweet, "there’s a movie night tonight."
I turned around slowly, arching an eyebrow.
"A movie night?" I repeated, skepticism thick in my voice.
She nodded enthusiastically, leaning slightly over the desk like she had some secret she was about to spill. >"Yeah, you know if you read your schedule," she said, leaning on the counter. “Its a chance for all of you ‘special recruits’ to unwind.” The way she said it like it was some great privilege, made my feathers bristle.
“What’s that got to do with me?” I asked flatly, already tired of where this was going.
She tapped the confiscated bottle
“If you’re willing to share this with the others, you’ll get a fair share for yourself,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact. “It’s a chance to bond. To connect. I'm sure your job is stressful enough, Right?"
“Right,” I muttered, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Because that’s exactly what I need—a bonding experience.”
She either didn’t notice or didn’t care about my tone, her smile unwavering.
“Look,” she said, shrugging, “you can keep being miserable, or you can take a break for once. You have classes and training starting again tomorrow so it's your choice.
“Fine,” I grumbled, shoulders slumping. “I’ll be there. But if someone else drinks more than their share, I’m taking my bottle back next time.”
My first instinct was to tell her to fuck off, but that would just make things worse, so I hesitated.
The elevator was only a few steps away, and I’d already come this far. But it wasn’t worth getting in trouble.
Begrudgingly, I walked back and I held the bottle out toward her, my knuckles white from the grip.
Without a word, she took the bottle from my hand and placed it under the desk.
I turned to leave, my prize lost and hopes dashed
the receptionist's voice cut through the silence again, more chipper this time.
"Oh, and by the way," she said, her tone a little too sweet, "there’s a movie night tonight."
I turned around slowly, arching an eyebrow.
"A movie night?" I repeated, skepticism thick in my voice.
She nodded enthusiastically, leaning slightly over the desk like she had some secret she was about to spill. >"Yeah, you know if you read your schedule," she said, leaning on the counter. “Its a chance for all of you ‘special recruits’ to unwind.” The way she said it like it was some great privilege, made my feathers bristle.
“What’s that got to do with me?” I asked flatly, already tired of where this was going.
She tapped the confiscated bottle
“If you’re willing to share this with the others, you’ll get a fair share for yourself,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact. “It’s a chance to bond. To connect. I'm sure your job is stressful enough, Right?"
“Right,” I muttered, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Because that’s exactly what I need—a bonding experience.”
She either didn’t notice or didn’t care about my tone, her smile unwavering.
“Look,” she said, shrugging, “you can keep being miserable, or you can take a break for once. You have classes and training starting again tomorrow so it's your choice.
“Fine,” I grumbled, shoulders slumping.
7 p.m. rolled around, and I found myself trudging toward the rec hall.
At least I had real clothes now—no more stolen bathrobe clinging awkwardly to my frame.
The hallway leading to the room was filled with faint chatter and muffled laughter, the sound putting me on edge more than it should have.
I stepped inside, immediately hit by the low hum of awkward energy.
The rec hall was a patchwork of mismatched furniture, cheap plastic chairs and folding tables scattered haphazardly. The projector screen at the front glowed faintly
food snacks and drinks spread over the tables
The room wasn’t crowded, but it wasn’t empty either. Maybe a dozen others were here, gathered in loose clusters, talking in hushed voices.
Most of the others were veterans, like me. You could tell by the scars, the missing limbs, the hollow eyes.
But there was something else too.
The subtle signs of “reintegration,” as the humans called it.
Piercings glinting under the dim light.
A few wore makeup—clumsily applied
Embarred looks and ruddy faces
None of us wanted to be here. Not in this room. Not in these clothes. Not in these roles.
We were once soldiers. Now, we were painted-up whores, meant to charm and beguile the very species that had humiliated us.
They could be treating us worse truth be told
They weren’t beating us or starving us.
We had good food, clean beds, and even the clothes weren't the worst for what they were. Even movie nights, apparently.
The human guards and some of the staff seem to be joining in as well
One of them walked over to me with two drinks in hand,one of which he held out toward me.
I glanced at it—some kind of mixed drink, likely watered down.
He looked at me, a hesitant smile playing on his lips. "You look like you could use this," he said, his voice trying to sound casual, but there was a tension in it.
what was he doing?
The guard was still standing there, holding the drink out toward me like it was just some normal interaction.
I stared at it, my mind racing for a reason why he’d be doing this.
Was this some kind of game?
A power play?
or maybe was just being nice. He was young, like the others, too fresh-faced to really have been in the war for that long.
“Thanks,” I said, finally taking the drink from him, though I didn’t immediately take a sip. I wasn’t sure if I should.
He nodded, still a little awkward, and then he lowered himself into the seat beside me, his presence unsettling. It wasn’t a threat, not really, but it felt like one.
His weight shifted the chair slightly as he settled beside me, but his posture was stiff, like he was second-guessing everything he was doing.
I could feel his gaze on me, a little too intense for comfort, but I didn't want to acknowledge it. I just stared at the drink in my hand, feeling the chill of the glass, wondering if it was laced with something.
"You don't have to drink it if you don't want to," he said, his voice softer now, a hint of awkwardness creeping in.
I glanced at him, then back at the drink. "I'm not sure what you're trying to pull, but I'm not stupid."
His eyes widened, clearly surprised by my bluntness. He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again, biting his lip.
"I'm not trying to pull anything," he said finally, almost defensively. "I j-just... I thought maybe you could use a drink"
The guard stuttered through his last sentence
his face was getting red
He was genuinely hitting on me!
not treating me like some toy to use and abuse
I blinked, trying to process what was happening. Was this real? This guard— this HUMAN?
I take a sip of my drink and contemplate what I should do, would I get in trouble if I turn him down, was this a test?
"You do realize what I am right? You don't have to go through this whole charade, you could probably just ask your superior and you can do anything you want with me..."
The guard’s face flushed deeper at my words, his eyes darting away as if he was afraid to look me in the eye. The tension between us grew, thick and uncomfortable. I could feel his internal struggle, like he was >fighting against everything he thought he knew.
“I don’t want to do that,” he said, his voice wavering slightly. “I mean... yeah, I know what you are. But I... I didn’t want to just use you, like everyone else does.”
I almost couldn’t believe what I was hearing. He was saying all the right things, but it didn’t add up. Was he being sincere, or was this just another form of manipulation?
"be honest with me, was your end goal here me ending up in your bed?" more blunt words from me
The guard looked taken aback, as if the directness of my question hit him like a slap. His eyes widened, and for a long moment, he said nothing, as if searching for the right words.
His posture stiffened, and I could see the internal battle playing out across his face—he didn’t want to admit it, but the truth was there, unspoken.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, he answered, voice soft but steady.
“No,” he said, his gaze dropping to the floor. “That’s not it. I mean... I won’t lie, I’ve... thought about it, I've seen you walking around... I see how you act... I've had thoughts... I just want you to be happy"
he just wanted me... to be happy?
The next words out of my mouth shouldn't have come out but they did maybe due too the booze, maybe the submission and obedience training kicking in.
"then do it, do what you think will make me happy"
he leans and shakily puts an arm around my shoulder and kisses me.
the worst part about it was I didn't hate it
I couldn’t pull away, couldn’t even make myself move. My thoughts scrambled in a haze, the alcohol mixing with the strange weight of the situation, clouding any rational thought I might have had left. The kiss was soft, gentle—too gentle for the chaotic mess of emotions I was feeling.
And yet, I didn’t hate it.
something was unsettling about how much I didn’t hate it. Maybe it was the vulnerability, the rawness of the moment. Or maybe it was because, deep down, I was craving something—something I couldn’t define.
The humans did something too me, I'm sure of it.
"you know I'm a male right?" I managed to say
"There isn't that much of a difference between you and one of the girls of your species to be honest" he chuckles nervously "and I don't really mind anyways"
at least he wont act like the last human who wanted to use me, he wasn't going to leave me in a corner to cry
at least he was gentle and nice about it
and with my new job, my new role who knows where else I'm gonna get that?
I take his hand and lead him out of the rec room, the movie had barely even started. but if I had to be this way, be a piece of ass for any important human who fancies me
I might as we have my first time be a fun time for someone who deserves it.
And that's how I found myself moaning like a whore in the stall of a public bathroom
with a human pulling my tail like some sort of grip guiding me down his member
while whispering to me on how much he loved me
maybe it was all half-truths and lies, a grand deception
but I didn't hate it
and at the very least I got to choose it
The clapping of flesh against flesh fills my ears
My once-proud demeanor was reduced to taking some random humans cock in a bathroom to avoid a worse first time
I was being stretched on his cock
my hole broken open and violated
This should feel horrible, a grand violation
Each thrust of the massive human meat slab makes my Cock strain and twitch against its prison desperate for even a single touch
I was being treated like a cock sleeve, and I couldn't fight back against it
if anything I was helping him violate me!
Through whatever haze came over me, I pushed myself down to his base, my mouth open and moaning in ecstasy with my tongue lolled out like some dumb pet
I probably looked stupid, but I didn't care
the human though seemed too as he leaned in close
I was worried for a second, did I do something wrong? displease him in some way?
He kissed me again, shoving his tongue into my mouth
this was the last straw and the flood wall burst with one final thrust into me I squirted
I squirted like a damned girl, a thin patchy stream of clear fluid spiting from the metal encased nub
The human seemed to be finishing as well as I felt a torrent of his fluid fill me
The human breaks the kiss and pulls out, letting some of his seed spurt on my backside
my legs finally give out and I slump too the floor
what did I do...
After one round in the bathroom, I was left a panting mess
but the human, though certainly in no state for another round, was still so full of energy
Somehow he managed to look smug and embarrassed all at once.
"You good?" he asked, his voice uneven but still managing a lighthearted tone.
I tried to answer, but the words came out as a wheeze instead. I nodded, half-lying, still trying to compose myself.
Humans and their stamina. How were they this durable? Was it some sort of evolutionary compensation for their fragility?
He laughed softly, the sound almost... endearing. "Guess I overdid it, huh?"
Overdid it? He didn't even seem phased, while I felt like I had just run 10 races barefoot.
"You're... enjoying this too much," I muttered between breaths, my voice rasping.
"Can you blame me?" he shot back, his grin widening. "You're the one who told me to make you happy."
I groaned, closing my eyes, partly in exasperation and partly to block out his smug expression. I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of a reply.
"Hey," he said, his tone softening. I felt his hand on my arm, the touch warm but tentative. "Seriously though... you're okay, right?"
It caught me off guard. The sincerity in his voice. No ulterior motives, no smugness. Just genuine concern.
"I'm fine," I managed to say, finally looking at him. His face was flushed, his breathing still heavier than normal, but his eyes held an unexpected gentleness.
What's got you so smug?" I asked, my voice dripping with suspicion.
His grin faltered briefly as if debating whether to say what was on his mind. Then, with a sheepish chuckle, he scratched the back of his head.
"Well, uh... it’s just that... I’ve never, uh... done anything like this before."
My eyes widened the words taking a second to process.
"Wait, you were a virgin?" I blurted out, unable to hide the disbelief in my voice.
He laughed nervously, his cheeks flushing a deeper red. "Yeah, uh... guess I should've mentioned that earlier, huh?"
My jaw practically hit the floor. A virgin managed to leave me—a seasoned, hardened, ex-soldier—completely out of breath and questioning my life choices?
"How?" I demanded, shaking my head in disbelief. "You—no. There’s no way. You handled that like—like you’ve done this a hundred times!"
He shrugged, that infuriating grin creeping back onto his face. "Beginner’s luck, maybe?"
"Beginner's luck?" I repeated, still trying to wrap my head around it. "That was luck?"
He laughed again, rubbing the back of his neck. "Guess I just... really wanted to make it good for you."
My head fell back against the bathroom wall as I tried to catch my breath. This human had the audacity to crack jokes while I was still trembling, the aftershocks of his assault leaving me weak and stunned.
And then it hit me. I didn’t even know his name.
"Wait," I said, my voice hoarse. "I don’t even know your name."
He blinked, his grin faltering as his eyes widened. "Oh, uh... it’s Daniel."
"Daniel," I repeated, tasting the name like it was some foreign word.
His grin returned, though this time softer, less smug. "And you?" he asked, as if we hadn’t just crossed every conceivable line of formality.
I hesitated, caught off guard by the question. I hadn’t been asked my name in... well, longer than I cared to admit.
"Vyrak" I said finally, the name feeling foreign even to me.
"Nice to meet you, Vyrak," he said, offering a hand like we were strangers in some awkward social setting.
Like we he wasn't just treating me like his Bondmate on their honeymoon a few moments ago
I stared at his hand, then back at him. The absurdity of the situation finally cracked me, and I let out a laugh—a genuine, deep laugh I hadn’t felt in ages.
"You’re unbelievable," I said, shaking my head, but I took his hand anyway.We moved out of the cramped bathroom and found a spot to sit down, the absurdity of what just happened still lingering in the air. >Daniel, apparently immune to awkward silences, broke it first.
"So, Vyrak," he said, leaning back with a cocky grin. "Is it true your people are supposed to be these terrifying warriors? 'Cause, uh... >no offense, but you're kinda..." He trailed off, looking me up and down.
"Kinda what?" I snapped, narrowing my eyes at him.
He chuckled, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "I mean, you’re... small. For someone who’s supposed to strike fear into people."
My eye twitched. Small? Small? I was compact, not small. Efficient, not small.
"You humans are just freakishly tall...stupid, massive idiots," I grumbled out
Daniel smirked, clearly unfazed. "Oh, I believe you, Shortstack, something about me is massive."
"Shortstack?" I repeated, my voice an octave higher as I shot to my feet. "You’re lucky I don’t rip that smug grin off your face right now!"
He burst out laughing, doubling over like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard.
I glared at him, but something about his laughter was disarming. Annoying, yes, but disarming.
"You know," I said, sitting back down, "for someone who thinks he’s so funny, you don’t exactly scream 'war hero' yourself."
Daniel shrugged, his grin softening. "Fair. I’m not. as green as can be, left boot as soon as the war ended"
I stared at him, trying to reconcile the brash, smug human with this... almost humble admission. The quiet hung between us for a moment before he broke it, as always.
“What about you, Shortstack?” he asked, leaning in with mock curiosity."What’s it like being on the losing side?"
I folded my arms, refusing to rise to the bait. "Do you want to hear a story or not?"
"Absolutely," he said, grinning even wider. "Go on, Shortstack. Impress me."
My hands clenched at the nickname, but I forced myself to ignore it.
We moved out of the cramped bathroom and found a spot to sit down, the absurdity of what just happened still lingering in the air.
Daniel, apparently immune to awkward silences, broke it first.
"So, Vyrak," he said, leaning back with a cocky grin. "Is it true your people are supposed to be these terrifying warriors? 'Cause, uh... no offense, but you're kinda..." He trailed off, looking me up and down.
"Kinda what?" I snapped, narrowing my eyes at him.
He chuckled, holding his hands up in mock surrender. "I mean, you’re... small. For someone who’s supposed to strike fear into people."
My eye twitched. Small? Small? I was compact, not small. Efficient, not small.
"You humans are just freakishly tall...stupid, massive idiots," I grumbled out
Daniel smirked, clearly unfazed. "Oh, I believe you, Shortstack, something about me is massive."
"Shortstack?" I repeated, my voice an octave higher as I shot to my feet. "You’re lucky I don’t rip that smug grin off your face right now!"
He burst out laughing, doubling over like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard.
I glared at him, but something about his laughter was disarming. Annoying, yes, but disarming.
"You know," I said, sitting back down, "for someone who thinks he’s so funny, you don’t exactly scream 'war hero' yourself."
Daniel shrugged, his grin softening. "Fair. I’m not. as green as can be, left boot as soon as the war ended"
I stared at him, trying to reconcile the brash, smug human with this... almost humble admission. The quiet hung between us for a moment before he broke it, as always.
“What about you, Shortstack?” he asked, leaning in with mock curiosity."What’s it like being on the losing side?"
I folded my arms, refusing to rise to the bait. "Do you want to hear a story or not?"
"Absolutely," he said, grinning even wider. "Go on, Shortstack. Impress me."
My hands clenched at the nickname, but I forced myself to ignore it.
“We were on some human colony world, no clue on the name, a few weeks into our first and only push into human space,” I began, settling into the story, my mind drifting back to the battlefield. “We had smashed aside the defenders pretty good, and we were going through the sweep and kill motions, making sure we wouldn't have any problems later on with guerrilla action when—”
“Wait, wait, you’re telling me you guys didn’t even know the name of the planet?” Daniel interrupted, looking genuinely baffled. “What kind of operation was that?”
“Look, humans, you guys love names and maps. For us, it was just... territory,” I said with a shrug. “But anyway, we were securing the area when it happened.”
Daniel raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “What happened?”
I let out a breath, my fingers curling around the edges of the chair I was sitting in. “We were pushing through a jungle biome, moving slow, keeping our formation tight, when we found a... a village. It was a farming colony, small, barely even on the maps. And we didn’t think it was a military target, so we started to move past it.”
"And?” Daniel leaned forward, his grin gone, his attention now entirely focused on my words.
“Then it happened. A small group of militia popped out of nowhere—old weapons, makeshift armor—things that shouldn’t have been a problem. >But they had the element of surprise. They hit us hard, caught us off guard, and, hell, for a moment there, I thought we might actually be in trouble.” I paused, letting the weight of the memory settle in.
Daniel opened his mouth to say something, but I cut him off.
“It didn’t end well for them,” I added, my voice darker than I intended. “They fought well. Too well, for a bunch of farmers and civilians. We wiped them out, of course. But... it felt wrong, you know?”
Daniel's expression softened, the smirk fading as he took in my words. "Yeah, I get that," he said quietly. "It's easy to forget that when you're fighting, sometimes you're just... fighting people. Not soldiers, not enemies, just people who are trying to survive."
I didn't expect him to get it, not from the guy who had probably spent most of his life throwing jokes around and shrugging off every serious conversation.
But his words struck something deep in me. Maybe he understood more than I thought.
“Yeah,” I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck. “It’s one thing to fight a soldier, someone who’s trained and ready for battle. But... a farmer? A kid who’s just trying to protect their home? That’s not a fight, it’s a massacre.”
Daniel’s eyes were steady, no longer the playful, teasing soldier I had been getting used to. He was listening, really listening, and that caught me off guard.
"Did you ever... regret it?" he asked softly, as if the question had been lingering in his mind for a while.
I hesitated, the weight of the question pressing down on me. "Every day," I admitted, my voice low. "But what else could I have done? If I didn’t kill them, they would have certainly killed me"
Daniel's voice was quieter now, and there was a strange look in his eyes, something a little darker, more serious than the cocky grin he usually wore. "Guess I was lucky I wasn’t old enough to join up or be conscripted back then, huh?" he said, almost to himself.
“I’m happy you’re here now, at least,” I said quietly, breaking the uncomfortable silence. The words felt strange coming from me, but they were true. Despite everything, >despite the war, the violence, the years of bitterness—having Daniel here, in this moment, was somehow... comforting.
“I guess this makes us friends...” I started, my voice uncertain as I leaned back against the wall, staring at the floor. The words felt foreign on my tongue, like I was trying to say something I wasn’t sure I even understood.
Daniel, ever the one to push things along, grinned. “Friends? Yeah, I think I can get behind that.”
But I wasn’t so sure. There was a part of me, deep down, that didn’t know what to make of it. What did this even mean? Friends? After everything, after what had just happened between us?
I looked at him, trying to sort through the mess in my head. Why had I done that? Why had I let him get to me like that? I’d spent years .learning how to make others mostly human die... Now I was standing here, thinking about this.
“I’m still trying to figure out why I... did that,” I said, more to myself than to him. “Why... I let you...” I trailed off, unable to finish. It was still too raw, too strange.
Daniel seemed to pick up on my discomfort, though he didn’t poke at it too much. “Hey, it’s alright. You didn’t do anything you didn’t want to.”
I snorted bitterly. “You’re right, it’s my job now... to please humans.”
His smile faded just a little, as if he understood the weight of what I was saying. “Does that mean you... don’t want to?”
There was a long pause, a beat of silence that hung between us. I didn’t have an answer to that. I wasn’t sure anymore. This... this wasn’t part of the plan.
“I don’t know,” I said finally, the words barely audible. “I don’t know what I want anymore.” My gaze dropped to the floor, unwilling to meet his eyes. “I’ve spent my whole life fighting for something—honor, my people, survival. And now… now it’s all gone.” I clenched my fists, anger bubbling beneath the surface. “This... this isn’t who I am.”
“It doesn’t have to define you, you know,” he said finally, his voice softer than I’d ever heard it. “its just a job... it doesn’t have to be who you are.”
I laughed bitterly, the sound harsh in the quiet room. “You don’t get it. It’s not just what they’re making me do—it’s what they’re making me think. Every day, it gets harder to hold onto who I was. It’s like... like they’re chipping away at me, piece by piece, until there’s nothing left but what they want me to be.”
“Obedient,” Daniel murmured, his voice low but steady.
I nodded, my jaw tightening. “Obedient. Willing. A good little servant for you humans.” I spat the words out like they were poison. “I try to hold onto my dignity, my honor, but... it’s slipping away."
"Nothing stops you from still having all that, while being an obedient little pet, right? All they are asking you for is to parade yourself around a little and be a good little advocate for your species"
His words landed with the same cold, biting weight as before.
The anger rose in my chest again, hot and suffocating. “A pet?” I repeated, my voice thick with disgust. “Is that all you see me as? A puppet, a tool for some twisted propaganda?”
Daniel didn’t flinch. He just looked at me with that steady, unbothered gaze. "You’re still you. But they want you to act a little differently, something they can use to help rebuild your world. You could play their game, and still keep a part of yourself intact.”
I shook my head, the bitter laughter bubbling up again. “You think it’s that easy? You think I can just play along and keep my honor intact? It’s not a game, Daniel. It’s my life. And I’m losing it bit by bit.”
“I don’t think you’re losing anything," he said quietly, his gaze never leaving mine. "I think you’re just too scared to admit you’re still in control of it. You’ve got more strength than you’re giving yourself credit for."
His words gnawed at me, each one digging deeper. Could it really be that simple? Could I really hold onto something, anything of myself, even after everything? The thought was both terrifying and strangely... hopeful.
Daniel's tone shifted again, a hint of seriousness creeping in. "Anyways, this is an important job you're doing," he said, leaning forward a little. " You're helping bring human corporations over to invest in your people. to help rebuild" he pauses "there has to be some honor in that, right?"
I swallowed hard, the weight of his words pressing down on me. There was truth in what he said, even if it didn’t make it any easier to accept. My struggle wasn’t just mine anymore. It was tied to something larger, something bigger than myself. But did that make it any less personal? Did it make it any less humiliating? Did it make it any less painful?
"Hell, you're the one who dragged me to the bathroom, not the other way around," Daniel said with a mischievous grin, his eyebrows wiggling. "Maybe you secretly DO enjoy serving humans, huh?"
The sudden shift in his tone caught me off guard, the mischievous grin on Daniel's face like a splash of cold water. For a moment, I just stared at him, trying to process the shift from what had been a heavy conversation to this... joke.
“Really?” I snapped, my voice sharper than I intended, my frustration bubbling over.
Daniel’s grin didn’t falter, though it twisted into something more teasing. “I didn’t hear you say no,” he said, his voice light but his eyes probing, like he was waiting for me to crack.
The words hung in the air, a challenge that gnawed at me. What was I supposed to say? Was I just letting him think I enjoyed this? Did I? Was I so deep in this that I couldn’t even tell the difference anymore?
“What if I don’t say no?” I shot back, the words escaping before I could think about them.
“Wait, no! I didn’t mean that—” I started, panic flooding my chest as I tried to backtrack, but the words were already out there, hanging between us like a confession I wasn’t ready to face.
But before he could make sense of it, I was already turning, my footsteps echoing in the hall as I stomped out of the bathroom.
My heart was pounding in my ears, and I couldn’t stop myself from walking faster, like I could outrun the storm of emotions swirling in my chest. I could feel his eyes on me, and that only made everything worse, like his gaze was a reminder of the words I couldn’t take back.
I didn’t know what I was running from exactly. Maybe it was the fear of what I’d just said, or maybe it was the discomfort of realizing how far I’d gone with this whole situation.
The rush of emotions that had built up inside me felt like a heavy weight pressing down on my chest as I locked myself away in my dorm room. The words I’d said to Daniel, the way everything had shifted in that moment, hung in my mind like an echo I couldn’t escape. I tried to push it all away—tried to let sleep numb the confusion—but it lingered, gnawing at the edges of my thoughts.
Tomorrow would bring more training, more learning how to please and obey. Another round of tasks that were supposed to make me into something more. Something different.
I pulled the covers tighter around me, hoping that sleep would bring some clarity, but it only brought more questions. What had I become? What was I letting happen to me?
And as my body began to relax, exhaustion slowly taking over, I couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was spiraling faster than I could keep up with.
The next day, I woke with the soft, steady hum of the facility surrounding me—quiet, clinical, relentless. My body felt sluggish, as if the weight of the previous day’s conversation had worn me down before I’d even begun the day’s training.
The morning passed in a blur of mechanical tasks—body movements, posture, the way to stand or sit just right to please, to perform. It wasn’t the first time I had undergone this kind of training, but today it felt different. More invasive.
“Vyrak,” the trainer’s voice cut through my thoughts. I looked up, meeting his cold, professional gaze. “You’ve been here long enough to know what’s expected of you. But today’s focus is different."
He handed me a small, white packet. Inside was a prescription bottle. I stared at it for a moment before taking it from his hands.
“You’ll start your hormone regimen today,” the trainer said, his tone matter-of-fact. “This is part of the process, the next step in your training. It’ll help you align with the body you need to have in order to be... effective. You’re expected to take it regularly. Do you understand?”
For a moment, I didn’t say anything, just stared at the bottle in my hands. My fingers tightened around it, the small object suddenly feeling unbearably heavy.
“Do you understand?” the trainer repeated.
“...Yes,” I muttered, barely audible. My throat felt dry, the word scratching as it left my lips.
“Good,” he said curtly, clearly unimpressed by my lack of enthusiasm. “Take the first dose now. We’ll review the rest of your schedule once you’re done.”
I wanted to argue. To ask him if this was really necessary, if there was any way around it. But deep down, I knew the answer.
“Go on,” the trainer said, his eyes locked on me like he didn’t trust me not to run.
I swallowed the pill dry, the bitter taste lingering on my tongue.
As soon as I swallowed the pill, the trainer’s hand landed on my back—a single, heavy pat that felt more like a claim of ownership than any gesture of encouragement.
“Good,” he said again, his voice flat but final. “Now, let’s not waste time. There’s much to do.”
I nodded stiffly, keeping my eyes trained on the floor. The taste of the pill lingered, bitter and metallic, and I had to fight the urge to gag. The trainer motioned for me to follow, and I did, my legs moving automatically even as my mind rebelled against each step.
As we walked down the hallway, the question clawed its way out of my throat before I could stop it. “What exactly will this pill do to me?” My voice was low, wavering slightly, but I forced the words out anyway.
The trainer glanced over his shoulder, his expression unreadable. For a moment, I thought he might ignore me, but then he spoke, his tone clinical and detached, like he was reciting instructions from a manual.
“The hormones will gradually adjust your body to better meet the expectations of your assignments,” he said. “Softening your features, redistributing fat, altering muscle mass... Over time, these changes will help you perform more effectively.”
next was the exercise routine. The trainer led me to the gym, its gleaming equipment lined up in intimidating rows.
“Your previous training routines focused on the basics, makeup and appearance and basic mannerisms as was as keeping you healthy,” he said, gesturing for me to follow. “This new program emphasizes sculpting and refining. Certain areas of your body need to align with aesthetic expectations.”
He handed me a detailed sheet, each exercise targeting specific muscle groups. Squats, leg lifts, core-focused routines—movements designed to subtly shift my physique in ways I wasn’t entirely comfortable with.
As the weeks passed, the changes in my body were undeniable.
As I stood in front of the mirror, the soft, fluorescent light above casting a pale glow over the room. My eyes traced the lines of my reflection, searching, scrutinizing. The person looking back at me was still... me, but at the same time, it wasn’t.
I ran a hand down my chest, the new curve of my breasts pressing softly against my palm. The sensation was strange, almost surreal, like I was touching something that belonged to someone else. The sensitivity of them, the way they responded to the slightest touch—it made something stir inside me, a mix of discomfort and curiosity. I bit my lip, fighting the urge to focus on how my body reacted rather than what it meant. Was I supposed to be enjoying this?
my tail swished as I continued my inspection
The pill-induced changes had been slow but undeniable. The soft swell of my hips, the delicate rounding of my face—there were more of them now, all these little signs that I was becoming something different. I used to look in the mirror and see a version of myself I was supposed to be, a version I’d tried so hard to maintain, now it felt like I was watching someone else grow into place.
As I stared at myself in the mirror, my hand absentmindedly brushed against the edge of my Chastity cage.
I hadn’t really thought about it much lately. In the chaos of the changes happening to my body, in the growing awareness of the pills and their effects, the cage had been almost... forgotten. Or maybe I had just pushed it out of my mind.
I hadn’t felt its weight in the same way, once a constant source of frustration, had started to feel like a distant memory. There were moments, late at night, when the ache of it would become unbearable. but those times were rare now.
At least Daniel liked the changes.
Every time I saw him, he had something to say about it—some compliment, some remark about how different I looked now, how the changes suited me.
Occasionally he even attempts too playfully spank me a quick slap on the ass when I’d turn my back or when he thought I wasn’t paying attention. The first time it happened, I flinched. The sting was unexpected, and for a moment, I didn’t know how to react. I shot him an angry look, my face burning with a mix of surprise and annoyance.
Why didn’t I tell him to stop? Part of me hated it—hated how he thought it was funny, how he thought I was still just a joke. But another part... another part of me didn’t mind it as much as I probably should. His touch, though playful and intrusive, was a form of attention, a sign that I was still... there.
I hated that it made me feel a little giddy, even as I called him names
probably the training finally getting too my head
the pills, the exercises, the changes of my body. the endless lessons on body language and emotional manipulation—it all blended into a monotonous haze. But one day, the routine shifted.
“Vyrak,” the trainer called, his tone sharp and businesslike. “You’ve been selected for a special assignment.”
I froze.
The words felt heavy, final, like a sentence I couldn’t escape. “What kind of assignment?” I asked cautiously, trying to keep the dread out of my voice.
He smirked, a cold, practiced expression that never reached his eyes. “You’ll be participating in a photoshoot. A feature for an exclusive human magazine. It’s meant to showcase the... ‘Delights of the Conquered Sector.’”
The room seemed to spin for a moment as the words sank in. A photoshoot? My stomach churned at the thought.
“You’ll be dressed, styled, and posed for a series of shots,” he continued, ignoring my visible discomfort. “There will also be interviews with you and the other ‘participants.’ It’s an opportunity to show how well you’ve been... integrated.”
“Your presence has been specifically requested,” the trainer added, a hint of amusement in his voice. “They think you’ll photograph well. The camera loves... soft features.”
He handed me a folder filled with instructions, outfit mock-ups, and a list of questions for the interview portion. “You’ll report to the studio tomorrow morning. Make sure you’re ready.”
That night, I barely slept. The thought of being put on display, my face and body plastered across a magazine for humans to gawk at, made my skin crawl. But I didn’t have a choice.
The next morning, I arrived at the studio. Bright lights, polished floors, and a team of stylists awaited me. They worked quickly, applying makeup, arranging my hair, dressing me in the carefully curated outfits. I felt like a doll—an object to be posed and perfected.
“So, Vyrak,” the journalist pressed, leaning slightly closer. “What’s it like being part of this new era? How do you feel about your role in serving humanity?”
I forced another smile, one of the many I had perfected in training. “It’s an honor to contribute,” I said, reciting the scripted answer drilled into me. “I’m grateful for the opportunity to... bridge gaps between our cultures.”
The journalist’s expression shifted, their smile sharpening as if they sensed the rehearsed nature of my response. “Grateful, huh? That’s interesting.”
The journalist’s smile faltered slightly. “Come now,” they said, leaning forward. “You can drop the script. This isn’t training. We want your real thoughts, your unique perspective.”
I froze, the words catching in my throat. Real thoughts? Unique perspective?
“Let’s talk about you,” they continued, their tone sharpening just enough to make me uneasy. “Your file says you were once a soldier. Is that right? What happened to your arm?”
My stomach tightened, the question digging into wounds I’d rather keep buried. I glanced at the floor, then back at them, knowing they wouldn’t let it go. “Yes,” I said finally, my voice low. “I was a soldier. It… it happened in combat.”
“Combat,” the journalist repeated, their pen poised over their notepad. “That’s quite vague. Care to elaborate? Surely, there’s a story there.”
I clenched my jaw, trying to keep my breathing steady. “It was during one of the last stands on the homeworld,” I said after a long pause. “A missile hit my position. The blast took my arm, poor medical treatment took my eye."
"Im sorry to hear that, but to move on, if you don't mind, how are you feeling about life now?" The journalist’s tone softened for a moment, a fleeting attempt at empathy.
"How do I feel?" I echoed, my voice quieter now. I ran my fingers along the edge of the chair’s armrest, a habit I had developed when I was nervous. "I’ve adapted," I said, almost mechanically. "Life… it’s different now. It’s not what it used to be, but it’s still… life."
“At least you're keeping up morale,” the journalist said, their tone shifting slightly, as if they were trying to find some positive angle to latch onto. “I can imagine many others would have broken under the pressure!”
“People adapt,” I said, the words coming out sharper than I intended. “Some break, others bend. I’ve bent. And so have others.”
“How do you feel about the reintegration program?” the journalist continued, leaning in again, a glint of curiosity in their eyes. “It certainly put you through a lot of changes! And now you’re an advocate for your species! Changing the hearts and minds of some of humanity’s top investors!”
I clenched my fists beneath the table, the words biting into me. Advocate? I was a tool. A whore for their cause.
Advocate for my species? It sounded so… clean, so polished. It didn’t reflect the reality of what I had endured or the process I had gone through. I could have laughed at that, but I masked it with another practiced smile.
I cleared my throat, trying to regain control of the conversation. "The program… it's a way to survive," I said, my voice tight. "To adapt." I didn’t have a choice in the matter. "We don't get to choose the circumstances we’re thrown into, only how we handle them."
The journalist continues his questioning "Survival is key, but I heard that the program pays you guys a pretty penny. even giving you free food and board, I'd call that thriving!"
“Survival is key,” I echoed, the bitterness in my tone sharpening. “But you’re right, they do throw in a few perks.”
The journalist smiled, as if they had caught me in a moment of vulnerability. “A pretty penny, free food, and board—it sounds like more than just survival to me. It sounds like you’ve found a new kind of life here.”
My jaw tightened, and I had to fight to keep my expression neutral. “They pay us, sure feed and house us Though those benefits always come with downsides. It’s all part of the deal.”
The journalist raised an eyebrow. “A deal, huh? So, you’re saying the benefits aren’t worth it?”
I leaned back, letting out a deep breath. "Worth it? Maybe for some. But I’m not here for the handouts. I didn’t ask for this life. I didn’t ask to be a symbol."
The journalist’s smile faded slightly, but they pushed on, sensing there was more to unpack. “So, what would you have chosen if you had the chance? If you could go back and make a different decision?”
I paused, my fingers twitching at my sides. What would I have chosen? There was no going back. There never had been. "Would have Told the Damned Council to never start that stupid fucking war in the first place"
I let out a genuine laugh at this, though it turned kinda pained in the end.
The journalist laughs with me as well "I think everyone back home can agree with that"
I gave a tight, mirthless smile, still not fully able to shake the weight of what had been asked. "Yeah," I muttered. "Too bad it doesn’t work that way."
"fully agree with that notion as well"
I glanced at the journalist, their tone now tinged with something like genuine understanding. It wasn’t often that anyone seemed to grasp the weight of what was being said.
"So, a final question or two before I go," the journalist said, their voice shifting again, trying to steer the conversation toward the conclusion. "But why do you think you were invited to do the photoshoot?"
The question caught me off guard for a moment. I hadn’t thought much about the photoshoot, but now that it was mentioned, the purpose seemed more deliberate. They weren’t just showcasing us—they were selling us.
I shrug my shoulders, trying to play it cool. "The others weren't available, drew my name out of a hat?"
The journalist laughs, but it’s almost too loud, like they can’t quite believe what they’re hearing. "Not even close! Turns out quite a few of >you advocates have started a bit of a craze on the social networks back home on Earth, especially the pics of you sitting down and >looking fabulous with some of the most influential business tycoons alive today! Turns out, the eyepatch and missing limb gave you a bit of a mystery that people love!"
My face goes hot, and I feel my stomach churn with the sudden realization. "Wait, what? People… people actually care about that?"
The journalist gives me a teasing smile, clearly enjoying my reaction. "Oh yeah, you’ve got a whole fanbase now. They can’t get enough of the ‘mysterious warrior’ vibe you’ve got going on."
My brain stumbles to keep up, and I awkwardly adjust my seat, suddenly very aware of the way I’m sitting. "I—uh, I didn’t even know I had a fanbase. I just—"
I stop, flustered, trying to make sense of it. "I mean, what kind of fans…?"
The journalist chuckles, clearly enjoying my discomfort. "not my words but most people think 'you're a hot piece of alien ass'," they say, almost too casually. "Or that you're super fucking cool looking."
My eyes widen, and I feel my face go beet red and I feel my feathers flare up. "Wait, what? That’s— that’s what people are saying?"
My face feels like it’s about to combust. I don’t know whether to laugh, cry, or crawl into a hole.
"That’s—I um...." I stammer, my feathers still puffing up in embarrassment.
The journalist grins, clearly amused by my flustered state. "Hey, don’t shoot the messenger! I’m just saying what’s out there. People find you fascinating."
I bury my face in my hands for a moment, letting out a muffled groan. “Can I be done with this already?”
The journalist laughs softly, though there’s a flicker of understanding in their expression. “Alright, alright, I’ll wrap it up. Just one last question, I promise.”
I lower my hands cautiously, narrowing my eyes. “You said that two questions ago.”
“I mean it this time,” they insist, holding up their hands in mock surrender. “And it’s an easy one.”
I sigh, leaning back in my chair. “Fine. Let’s hear it.”
“What do you want people to take away from all of this?” Their voice softens, and for the first time, it feels like a genuine question. No teasing, no agenda—just curiosity.
I blink, the question catching me off guard. The weight of it settles over me, a stark contrast to the earlier banter. I can feel the tension in my shoulders, the exhaustion in my bones, and yet, the question lingers. What do I want people to take away from all of this?
I glance down, my fingers twitching at the edge of the chair again. It’s a simple question, but the answer is anything but.
"I don’t know," I admit, the words coming out quieter than I expect. "Maybe... maybe I just want them to see that we’re not just... monsters or toys to humiliate.
the weight of the words hanging in the air. "I want them to understand that we’re not some... exotic spectacle for them to gawk at or use for their amusement. We’re real. We have lives. We have struggles. We're just trying to make sense of all of this, the same way they are."
It had been a few weeks since the interview, and life had settled into a strange rhythm. Well, as much as "settling" could apply to someone like me. The fallout from that conversation lingered, though. A surprising number of people had reached out—some with genuine interest, others with… less noble intentions.
I was beginning to regret the whole thing. Not because of the interview itself, but because of the attention. And attention was an understatement.
I glance down, my feathers fluffing out slightly in agitation. The hormonal treatments have done their job, and then some. My breasts are heavy, awkward, and frankly, a little overwhelming. The adjustments to my balance alone are enough to drive me mad.
Walking had turned into an endurance test. Every step felt like a battle against gravity, and I wasn’t winning. My center of balance was off, and I’d already stumbled into a few walls. Let’s not even talk about doorways. I had bruises in places that I hadn’t even known could bruise.
“This is ridiculous,” I mutter to myself, trying to pull my uniform tighter to keep everything in place. It’s not working.
“Oh, come on,” I groan, tugging at the fabric in a futile attempt to make it fit. The once-flattering cut now looks like it’s trying to strangle me. My feathers puff out instinctively in frustration, only making the fit worse.
I suck in a breath and try again, managing to get one button closed. It immediately pops off with a loud ping, ricocheting off the wall and disappearing under the bed.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I mutter, glaring at the offending garment as if it’s personally insulted me.
Next, I move on to the pants. Surely those will fit, right?
Wrong.
Getting them past my hips is a battle of wills, and the pants are winning. I wiggle, hop, and tug, but no amount of effort makes a difference. When I finally give up, they’re stuck halfway up my thighs, refusing to budge another inch.
my tail swings low and slow from my frustration, both from the uniform and from my bodies... urges
the fabric of the pants and tunic had been rubbing up against my sensitive areas as I struggled
The coarse material grinds mercilessly against my supersensitive nipples, making them ache. Meanwhile, my heavy balls swing in their restrictive pouch, jostled into throbbing sensitivity that has me biting back curses.
my tail lashes in irritation as I subtly adjust my stance, seeking even temporary relief. But it's futile - each movement only stokes the flames of restless need. My dick, trapped in its unyielding steel cage, twitches impotently beneath my trousers. Useless chunk of flesh... not that I'm grateful for its existence anymore. If anything, it just serves as a constant reminder of what I've lost.
Perhaps a short break is in order, I think as I gently place my hands on my chest
As I begin to roughly grope my enormous breasts through the thin fabric of my top, a shiver runs down my spine at the sensation. The stimulation sends jolts of pleasure straight to my aching clit, making me gasp quietly. My fingers dig into the soft, pliant mounds, kneading and squeezing as I try to distract myself from the maddening arousal coursing through my body.
I pinch and tug at my sensitive nipples, drawing out moans as they harden further under my touch. The friction against my sensitive skin is almost too much, yet not enough to bring me release. I'm trapped in this cycle of wanting more while being denied satisfaction, my cock throbbing uselessly in its prison.
I pick up one of the thick, realistic dildos that the humans have given me for 'training'.
It's an obscene shade of pink, but it will do.
With a deep breath, I position it against my aching entrance and slowly push inside, groaning at the initial stretch. As I sink deeper, the dildo fills me up, its girth rubbing against my sensitive walls and providing some much-needed friction.
my tail swings low and slow from my frustration, both from the uniform and from my bodies... urges
the fabric of the pants and tunic had been rubbing up against my sensitive areas as I struggled
The coarse material grinds mercilessly against my supersensitive nipples, making them ache. Meanwhile, my heavy balls swing in their restrictive pouch, jostled into throbbing sensitivity that has me biting back curses.
my tail lashes in irritation as I subtly adjust my stance, seeking even temporary relief. But it's futile - each movement only stokes the flames of restless need. My dick, trapped in its unyielding steel cage, twitches impotently beneath my trousers. Useless chunk of flesh... not that I'm grateful for its existence anymore. If anything, it just serves as a constant reminder of what I've lost.
Perhaps a short break is in order, I think as I gently place my hands on my chest
As I begin to roughly grope my enormous breasts through the thin fabric of my top, a shiver runs down my spine at the sensation. The stimulation sends jolts of pleasure straight to my caged member, making me gasp quietly. My fingers dig into the soft, pliant mounds, kneading and squeezing as I try to distract myself from the maddening arousal coursing through my body.
I pinch and tug at my sensitive nipples, drawing out moans as they harden further under my touch. The friction against my sensitive skin is almost too much, yet not enough to bring me release. I'm trapped in this cycle of wanting more while being denied satisfaction, my cock throbbing uselessly in its prison.
I pick up one of the thick, realistic dildos that the humans have given me for 'training'.
It's an obscene shade of pink, but it will do.
With a deep breath, I position it against my aching entrance and slowly push inside, groaning at the initial stretch. As I sink deeper, the dildo fills me up, its girth rubbing against my sensitive walls and providing some much-needed friction.
my tail swings low and slow from my frustration, both from the uniform and from my bodies... urges
the fabric of the pants and tunic had been rubbing up against my sensitive areas as I struggled
The coarse material grinds mercilessly against my supersensitive nipples, making them ache. Meanwhile, my heavy balls swing in their restrictive pouch, jostled into throbbing sensitivity that has me biting back curses.
my tail lashes in irritation as I subtly adjust my stance, seeking even temporary relief. But it's futile - each movement only stokes the flames of restless need. My dick, trapped in its unyielding steel cage, twitches impotently beneath my trousers. Useless chunk of flesh... not that I'm grateful for its existence anymore. If anything, it just serves as a constant reminder of what I've lost.
Perhaps a short break is in order, I think as I gently place my one hand on my chest
As I begin to roughly grope my enormous breasts through the thin fabric of my top, a shiver runs down my spine at the sensation. The stimulation sends jolts of pleasure straight to my caged member, making me gasp quietly.
My fingers dig into the soft, pliant mounds, kneading and squeezing as I try to distract myself from the maddening arousal coursing through my body.
I pinch and tug at my sensitive nipples, drawing out moans as they harden further under my touch. The friction against my sensitive skin is almost too much, yet not enough to bring me release.
I'm trapped in this cycle of wanting more while being denied satisfaction, my cock throbbing uselessly in its prison.
I pick up one of the thick, realistic dildos that the humans have given me for 'training'.
It's an obscene shade of pink, but it will do.
With a deep breath, I position it against my aching entrance and slowly push inside, groaning at the initial stretch. As I sink deeper, the dildo fills me up, its girth rubbing against my sensitive walls and providing some much-needed friction.
As I thrust down on the silicone shaft, I curse the humans for making me Like this
for making me LIKE this
Each shiver sent throughout my body, was because of those damn humans
They ruined me, changed how I looked, and even how I acted around them was shifted and twisted
The worst part was I wasn't forced, I could have left anytime I wanted, early on it would have been a death sentence, sure. but after that?
It eats at me sometimes, that question. Why didn’t I walk away when I had the chance? Was it fear? Habit? Or something darker, something that kept me tethered to them even after the chains loosened?
My thoughts shifted, as I lost myself in pleasure
they shifteted to Daniel, my friend
He treats me well enough,
we go out to eat together and he even buys me things
he was as stupid as humans come, but I didn't mind
I smiled to myself, feathers ruffling slightly at the thought. He was mine. I didn’t care how silly it sounded; it was true. He was one thing I could hold onto.
MY human .
I was going to do something with him tonight what was it?
maybe we where going to play some of his human video games together?
no we did that last night, I lost to him on purpose.
sometimes we made bets and I said I would give him a blowjob if I lost
I loved seeing how his face squirmed and shifted as I crammed his cock down my throat
it was funny, it was even cute.
but we weren't doing that tonight
I was spooked from my lust induced thoughts as I heard a knock on the door
"Vyrak you ready?" "it was Daniel, though he sounded concerned "we don't want to be late!"
Late? late for what?
Ah, yes. Dinner. Daniel had mentioned something about wanting to try a new restaurant. Something fancy, with a name I couldn’t pronounce even if I tried.
something about meeting his brother and his new wife
and here I was...
"Oh shit..." I say with a whimper, I was supposed to be dressed by now!
"You alright in there, Vyrak?" Daniel's voice came from the other side of the door, tinged with concern. "I'm coming in!"
My head snapped up, feathers bristling in surprise at the sound of Daniel’s voice. He didn’t even wait for an answer before the door creaked open.
"Daniel! What are you—" I started, fumbling to pull myself together.
I cant let him see me like this!
but I was so, so close to an orgasm
I went as fast as I could, trying desperately to finish
With one final thrust I stopped and spurted my watery load all over my floor
I jump to my feet, the dildo sliding out of me making my abused hole make an obscenely loud shlicking sound
I managed to limp my way to the door and slam it closed all the while trying to fight my rubbery legs from giving out from under me
I was cumming my brains out, my hole still twitching eagerly for stimulation, and my useless infertile load, still splattering out, oozing onto the door
"J-Just a moment!"
I need to get dressed, and fast
I throw on a pair of panties and a skirt, leaving my old uniform blouse on, it covered up enough, right?
after a minute I tell Daniel to come in and he looks at me accusingly
"you good?" he knows I can tell
My feathers puffed up further in embarrassment, and I crossed my arms over my chest defensively. "I’m fine! I don’t need you barging in like that."
"You don’t look fine," he shot back, his tone softer now but still firm.
"You alright in there, Vyrak?" Daniel's voice came from the other side of the door, tinged with concern. "I'm coming in!"
My head snapped up, feathers bristling in surprise at the sound of Daniel’s voice. He didn’t even wait for an answer before the door creaked open.
"Daniel! What are you—" I started, fumbling to pull myself together.
I cant let him see me like this!
but I was so, so close to an orgasm
I went as fast as I could, trying desperately to finish
With one final thrust I stopped and spurted my watery load all over my floor
I jump to my feet, the dildo sliding out of me making my abused hole make an obscenely loud shlicking sound
I managed to limp my way to the door and slam it closed all the while trying to fight my rubbery legs from giving out from under me
I was cumming my brains out, my hole still twitching eagerly for stimulation, and my useless infertile load, still splattering out, oozing onto the door
"J-Just a moment!"
I need to get dressed, and fast
I throw on a pair of panties and a skirt, leaving my old uniform blouse on, it covered up enough, right?
after a minute I tell Daniel to come in and he looks at me accusingly
"you good?" he knows I can tell
My feathers puffed up further in embarrassment, and I crossed my arms over my chest defensively. "I’m fine! I don’t need you barging in like that."
"You don’t look fine," he shot back, his tone softer now but still firm.
I steal a glance behind me, the Dildo was as obvious as it could be sitting on the floor and clearly used, judging by the slickness of it, as well as the puddles leading up to the door
"I’m fine," I insisted, my voice coming out a little more defensive than I intended. My feathers, still fluffed up, ruffled uncomfortably at the confrontation.
There was a pause before Daniel’s voice came through the door, teasing but gentle. "What exactly are you wearing right now?"
I froze for a second, my mind scrambling to process the question. I glanced down at myself—my uniform top hanging loosely open, revealing more than I’d intended, and the short skirt I’d thrown on hastily, It wasn’t exactly the most "appropriate" outfit for a fancy dinner with Daniel’s brother.
“I was… I was trying to put on my old dress uniform,” I muttered, feeling my face flush a little, my feathers shifting in embarrassment. "You know, from back when I was a soldier. But, uh... it’s not exactly fitting the way it used to."
I glanced down at the clothes again, feeling a pang in my chest. The uniform had once been something to take pride in, something that reminded me of who I was—a soldier, a veteran, someone with a sense of purpose. But now?
Now it felt like a shell that didn’t fit anymore. It was too tight, the fabric clinging to places it never had before, and the weight of it made my shoulders slump. I just wanted to feel like me again, like there was something worth holding onto.
“It’s just... I wanted to feel like I still mattered,” I said quietly, more to myself than to Daniel. My feathers drooped slightly, the usual sharpness gone from my posture. "Like I wasn’t just... whatever this is now. Like I could still be someone who did something, something I could be proud of. I don't want to forget it"
Would he think I was pathetic? Or worse, that I was just wallowing in nostalgia for a past I couldn’t get back?
Finally, his voice broke the silence, quieter now, with a softness I hadn’t expected. "I get it, Vyrak. You don’t have to forget it. But you don't need to wear that uniform to prove you still matter."
I frowned, looking down at the crumpled fabric, the old memories it carried with it. "I just… sometimes I feel like I don’t know who I am anymore.
I’m not that soldier anymore, and I’m not sure what I am now. Everything’s so different, and I’m trying to figure it out, but it’s hard when nothing fits."
here was a pause before I heard the sound of movement outside the door. A minute later, Daniel knocked again, his voice soft but insistent. "Okay, I have an idea. Open up."
I hesitated, glancing down at myself—still in the ill-fitting remnants of my old uniform—and then toward the door. With a resigned sigh, I shuffled over and cracked it open just enough to peek out.
Daniel stood there, holding something in his hands. It was... a dress? A sleek, elegant thing in a deep, shimmering blue that caught the light. The sight of it made me blink in confusion.
“What is that?” I asked, my feathers ruffling in suspicion.
“It’s a dress,” he said plainly, holding it up higher so I could get a better look. “I, uh... picked it up a little while ago. Thought it might suit you, but I wasn’t sure when I’d give it to you. Now feels like a good time.”
I stared at it, then at him. “You bought me a dress?”
His expression softened, and he shrugged. “Yeah. I thought you might like it. It’s not a uniform, but it’s... something new. Something that’s yours now, not tied to the past.”
My gaze softened as I took in the dress, the deep blue shimmering under the hallway light. "It’s... beautiful," I admitted quietly, running my fingers over the fabric. It was softer than I’d expected, light but sturdy. Part of me couldn’t believe Daniel had gone out of his way to get something like this.
Finally, his voice broke the silence, quieter now, with a softness I hadn’t expected. "I get it, Vyrak. You don’t have to forget it. But you don't need to wear that uniform to prove you still matter."
I frowned, looking down at the crumpled fabric, the old memories it carried with it. "I just… sometimes I feel like I don’t know who I am anymore. I’m not that soldier anymore, and I’m not sure what I am now. Everything’s so different, and I’m trying to figure it out, but it’s hard when nothing fits."
there was a pause before I heard the sound of movement outside the door. A few minutes later, Daniel knocked again, his voice soft but insistent. "Okay, I have an idea. Open up."
I hesitated, glancing down at myself—still in the ill-fitting remnants of my old uniform—and then toward the door. With a resigned sigh, I shuffled over and cracked it open just enough to peek out.
Daniel stood there, holding something in his hands. It was... a dress? A sleek, elegant thing in a deep, shimmering blue that caught the light. The sight of it made me blink in confusion.
“What is that?” I asked, my feathers ruffling in suspicion.
“It’s a dress,” he said plainly, holding it up higher so I could get a better look. “I, uh... picked it up a little while ago. Thought it might suit you, but I wasn’t sure when I’d give it to you. Now feels like a good time.”
I stared at it, then at him. “You bought me a dress?”
His expression softened, and he shrugged. “Yeah. I thought you might like it. It’s not a uniform, but it’s... something new. Something that’s yours now, not tied to the past.
My gaze softened as I took in the dress, the deep blue shimmering under the hallway light. "It’s... beautiful," I admitted quietly, running my fingers over the fabric. It was softer than I’d expected, light but sturdy. Part of me couldn’t believe Daniel had gone out of his way to get something like this.
I stared at the dress for a long moment, the shimmering fabric catching the light in a way that made it seem almost alive. A lump formed in my throat as I reached out, my Taloned fingers brushing against the smooth material.
“It’s... beautiful,” I murmured, the words slipping out before I could stop them. I felt my feathers flutter slightly, my usual defensiveness giving way to something softer, more vulnerable.
The softness of the fabric between my fingers was almost hypnotic, a stark contrast to the rough, worn texture of the uniform I still clung to with my other hand.
Daniel smiled warmly, his eyes flicking between me and the dress. “You should try it on,” he said, his tone gentle but encouraging. “It’d look amazing on you.”
I glanced down at the uniform still clinging to me, the medals pinned firmly in place, their metallic glint a sharp reminder of who I used to be. My talons tightened on the fabric instinctively, unwilling to let go. “I… I’m not sure,” I muttered, feeling my feathers ruffle uncomfortably. “It’s not that simple.”
Daniel stepped forward cautiously, his hands tucked into his pockets. “I get it,” he said softly, his voice steady. “You don’t have to let go of this”—he gestured to the uniform—“but maybe this dress can be something new. Not replacing what you had, but adding to it.”
I blinked at him, his words sinking in. Slowly, I nodded. “Alright,” I murmured, stepping back toward the room and letting the door swing open a little wider. “But… I’m going to need some help. You know, with…” I gestured vaguely at my missing arm, my feathers fluffing slightly in embarrassment.
Daniel’s face softened further, and he gave me a small nod. “Of course. Just tell me what you need.”
Carefully, I peeled off the ill-fitting remains of my uniform, my fingers lingering on the medals for a moment before setting it aside—though not too far away. The dress still rested against my chest, its cool fabric brushing against my feathers.
Daniel picked up the dress and held it open for me, his movements careful and deliberate, as if handling something fragile. “Alright, slide your arm through here first,” he said, guiding me gently.
I followed his instructions, slipping my taloned hand through the sleeve. The fabric flowed over my feathers like water, its softness almost unfamiliar. He helped adjust it around my shoulders, carefully pulling it into place.
“Okay,” he murmured as he stepped back to get a better look. “How’s it feel?”
I smoothed the front of the dress, the shimmering material catching the light as I moved. It fit perfectly—almost too perfectly, hugging my form in ways that made me feel both self-conscious and… beautiful. My feathers fluttered slightly, betraying my mixed emotions.
“It’s... strange,” I admitted, glancing over at him. “But not in a bad way.”
Daniel grinned. “Strange is good. You look incredible.”
I turned my gaze back to the uniform where it lay folded on the chair, my eyes settling on the medals pinned neatly to its front. >My talons hovered over one in particular, the large silver medallion etched with a bold insignia of my people’s crest—a commendation for valor under fire and good conduct. It caught the light like a beacon, radiating the weight of everything it represented.
I swallowed hard, my throat tight. That medal had meant everything to me once. It was proof that I’d made a difference, that >I’d stood for something greater than myself. But now, looking at it, I wasn’t sure what it meant anymore. Could I still call myself the same person who had earned it? was it even earned?
Daniel must’ve noticed my hesitation. He stepped closer, his gaze softening as it followed mine to the medal. “That one’s special, isn’t it?” he asked quietly, his tone free of teasing for once.
I nodded, my feathers ruffling slightly as I struggled to find the words. “It was for saving my squad,” I said, my voice low. “Under fire, against all odds. They said I showed courage and restraint… but I didn’t feel courageous. I was just doing what needed to be done.”
Daniel crossed his arms thoughtfully, his eyes narrowing like he was working through an idea. Then, a grin broke across his face—a mischievous yet genuine expression that immediately put me on edge.
Daniel’s grin was the kind that made me instantly suspicious. I narrowed my eyes at him, my feathers puffing slightly. "What are you up to now?"
He reached into his bag—a bag I hadn’t noticed before—and pulled out something that gleamed under the room’s light. My feathers fluffed up further as the object came into focus. It was a gilded collar, ornate and striking, with subtle etchings that shimmered when the light hit it just right.
It looked oddly familiar, and it didn’t take long for me to place where I’d seen it before.
My breath caught for a moment. The design was ornate, its craftsmanship intricate, but it was eerily familiar. It looked almost exactly like the one my Boundmate Shira had worn over a year ago—with her human...
I stayed quiet, my talons curling slightly at my sides. There was no way he could’ve known. This had to be a coincidence... right?
“Check this out,” Daniel said, oblivious to my tension. He turned the collar over in his hands, admiring it like it was a treasure. “I picked this up at some boutique downtown. Thought it might be a nice touch. You know, something to tie everything together.”
I didn’t respond immediately, my gaze fixed on the collar as memories churned in the back of my mind.
“You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to,” Daniel said, noticing my hesitation. His voice was light, but there was an undertone of something else—maybe concern, maybe just his usual playful teasing. But I couldn’t tell anymore. Everything felt a little off-kilter.
I didn’t know how to respond to that. My chest tightened, my feathers ruffling nervously. Maybe it wasn’t meant the way I thought, maybe it wasn’t exactly like the collar Shira wore—but the memory stuck, the way she’d looked wearing it, the way she’d become a symbol for something more, something less than what she was.
I sighed and nodded, my voice low. “Alright,” I muttered, resigned.
I didn’t stop him when he stepped forward, gently lifting the collar toward me. I felt the cool, gilded metal against my neck, my feathers instinctively fluffing up at the touch. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it felt... off.
“Relax,” Daniel said softly, as if sensing my discomfort. He adjusted the collar carefully, fastening it around my neck. The weight of it settled a constant reminder of something I didn’t know how to process. When he finished, he took a step back, eyeing me with a grin that was all too knowing.
“Perfect,” he said, the words almost reverent as he reached for the medal. The same medal that had once been a symbol of my achievements, of who I was.
My heart skipped as Daniel attached the medal to the small ring at the front of the collar. The motion felt ceremonial, like I was being... marked. There was something unsettling about the way the medal dangled there, now part of the collar, part of this accessory.
I didn’t know how to feel. Part of me felt... cared for, even loved by my friend. After all, he was the one who picked out the collar, and who was helping me through this. But another part of me, deeper down, felt like a pet—like I was just an object to be adorned, something to be dressed up and displayed.
Did it really matter? Daniel had never treated me like a pet. Not really. He’d been there when I needed him, patient even when I wasn’t, and far kinder than I probably deserved. If this was his way of showing he cared—his way of helping me remember who I was—then maybe I was overthinking it.
Even if he did see me as something like a pet, I realized, my chest tightening at the thought, wasn’t that... okay? >He’d never once treated me with anything but respect, even when I felt like I didn’t deserve it.
Even at Daniel’s worst, all he ever really did was tease me. He could be insufferable, sure, but it was never cruel.
His jokes, his little jabs—they weren’t meant to hurt. If anything, they were his way of making sure I didn’t take myself too seriously.
Daniel clapped his hands together, his grin back in full force. “Alright, soldier, time to suit up and face the world. You ready?”
I glanced at myself in the mirror one last time, smoothing the shimmering fabric of the dress. It really was a flattering dress, and it hung just right in the places it should.
I gave myself one last glance in the mirror, my talons brushing over the medal now resting on the collar. It still felt strange, but not in a bad way. The dress shimmered as I turned, hugging my frame just right.
For the first time in a long while, I didn’t feel like I was just wearing something—I felt like I belonged in it.
We pulled up to the restaurant, its golden lights casting a warm glow over the busy street. My feathers fluffed slightly >as I stepped out of the car, the cool air brushing against the shimmering fabric of my dress. Daniel walked beside me, >his usual carefree confidence radiating as he held the door open.
Inside, the atmosphere was refined but lively, soft chatter and clinking glasses filling the air. I could feel eyes on me as we walked through the entrance, but Daniel’s presence at my side kept me steady.
“They’re already here,” Daniel said, nodding toward a table near the back. His grin widened. “My brother’s probably halfway through his drink by now.”
I followed his gaze, my eyes landing on the pair seated at the table. At first, it didn’t register—just two people, a man and a woman, sitting close, their postures relaxed.
And then it hit me.
My heart skipped, and my feathers flattened against my body in an instant.
The man was tall, broad-shouldered, his sharp features unmistakable even after all this time. John. The human I hadn’t seen since that fateful day over a year ago.
But it wasn’t him that sent the ground tilting beneath me.
Sitting beside him, her delicate hands resting lightly on the table, was Shira. My Shira.
Her feathers gleamed under the soft light, her posture poised and composed in the way I remembered so vividly. She turned her head slightly, and my breath caught when I saw the collar around her neck—the same gilded design I now wore.
Shira’s eyes slid over me for a moment, her expression cool and distant. She didn’t recognize me—not immediately. >Instead, she gave me a look I hadn’t seen in years but knew all too well: the slight narrowing of her eyes, the subtle arch of a brow. It was the look she used to give to women she thought were too... sultry, too bold for their own good.
put simply rakions who she thought looked like sluts
I stood frozen, unsure if I should speak, unsure of what to say. Her gaze held a tinge of disapproval, but it wasn’t as cutting as I remembered. More... detached, almost like I was just another stranger in the crowd.
When her eyes finally met mine again, I saw the recognition flicker across her face. The sharpness of her expression softened, but only for a moment.
“Vyrak?” she asked, her voice barely rising above the chatter around us.
“Yeah,” I said quietly, my voice a little tighter than I meant it to be. I shifted awkwardly on my feet, suddenly feeling the weight of the room pressing down on me. It was hard to believe I was here, standing in front of her after so long.
Shira’s eyes softened slightly as she took a step closer, her posture stiffening as if she was trying to work through some unspoken tension. Then, without warning, she pulled me into a hug.
The hug was warm, but there was something hesitant about it. She wrapped her arms around me, but it wasn’t the embrace I remembered. This one felt more restrained, as though she was holding back, unsure of what to say or how to feel.
For a moment, I closed my eyes and let myself relax into the hug. The familiarity of it, the way she smelled, the faint softness of her feathers against my skin, brought a rush of old memories. It made everything feel simpler, easier. But then, just as quickly, I noticed something—her body tensing slightly as she pressed closer.
And then, I noticed it—the way her eyes flicked down for a moment, her gaze catching on my chest. It was a subtle shift, but I could feel her tension, the slight stiffness in her posture. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what she was thinking.
"it’s been a while,” I said quietly, my voice thick with an emotion I couldn’t quite place. Slowly, I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her closer despite the awkward tension. She didn’t pull away, but her grip stayed stiff, her feathers bristling ever so slightly.
“Yeah,” she murmured after a moment, her voice almost too soft to hear. “It has.”
For a brief second, the noise of the restaurant faded into the background, and it was just the two of us. I could feel the warmth of her against me, the faint tremble in her shoulders as she tried to hold herself together. I wondered if she was feeling the same storm of emotions I was.
“Well,” Daniel’s voice cut through the moment like a knife, his tone light but laced with curiosity, “this is interesting. Didn’t realize you two knew each other.”
Shira stepped back quickly, smoothing her feathers as though nothing had happened. Her expression had shifted, the guarded, poised look sliding back into place like a mask.
“We go... way back,” I said, my gaze still lingering on her. I could see the faintest flicker of something in her eyes—guilt? Pain? It was gone before I could pin it down.
“Small world,” Daniel said, his grin widening as he glanced between us. “Guess I’ll have to hear the story later. Come on, though, John’s probably wondering why we’re still standing over here.”
John wasn’t exactly the chatty type. As the dinner progressed, he mostly nodded along to Daniel’s stories and chimed in only when prompted. Shira, meanwhile, kept the conversation polite but distant, her eyes flicking to me more often than I think she realized.
As the dinner went on, the weight of unspoken words pressed down on me. Shira’s glances in my direction were fleeting, but each one cut deeper than the last.
Daniel, ever the entertainer, kept the conversation flowing, filling the silences with his stories and jokes. John mostly stayed quiet, his presence calm but solid beside Shira.
I couldn’t ignore the way she leaned slightly toward him, the subtle ease in her posture when he was near. It was bittersweet. She looked happy—or at least content—and I wasn’t about to disrupt that. But the bond we shared was still there, faint but unyielding, like an old scar that ached in the cold.
When John excused himself to step outside for a moment, I saw my chance. Pushing my chair back, I followed him out, leaving Daniel mid-laugh and Shira mid-sentence.
The night air was crisp and cool, a stark contrast to the warmth inside. John stood near the edge of the patio, his broad shoulders relaxed as he looked out into the street. He didn’t seem surprised when I approached.
“Needed some fresh air too?” he asked, his voice even, his eyes not leaving the horizon.
“Something like that,” I replied, stopping a few steps away. For a moment, neither of us spoke. The quiet between us wasn’t exactly hostile, but it wasn’t friendly either.
Finally, I broke the silence.
“John.” My tone was firm, cutting through the stillness. He turned his head slightly, just enough to meet my gaze. “I need you to understand something.”
His brow furrowed slightly, but he didn’t interrupt. I took a step closer, lowering my voice.
“Shira and I... we’re bondmates,” I said, the words heavy on my tongue. “That’s not something that just... goes away. It’s a for-life thing, whether we’re together or not.”
He shifted, his posture straightening. There was a flicker of something in his eyes—curiosity, maybe, or caution.
“I get that she’s your wife now,” I continued, my feathers bristling slightly despite my efforts to stay calm.
John’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t back down. “You think I don’t treat her right?” he asked, his voice steady but with an edge of defensiveness.
“It’s not about what I think,” I replied, my tone sharpening. “It’s about what I know. Shira and I share something—something that doesn’t just disappear because things changed between us. >Being bondmates isn’t temporary. It’s for life. And even if we’re not together now, that doesn’t mean I stop caring about her or watching out for her.”
John’s expression softened slightly, though there was still a tension in his shoulders. He didn’t say anything for a moment, just took in my words as I stood there, waiting for some kind of response.
“I’m not saying you should be worried,” I continued, my feathers settling a bit as I spoke. “I just need you to understand... Shira deserves the best. So just—just treat her right. That’s all I’m asking.”
There was a long pause, the weight of the moment pressing down on us both. His eyes met mine, no longer defensive but... thoughtful.
Finally, he sighed, a deep exhale that seemed to release a bit of the tension that had been hanging between us. “I get it,” he said quietly. “I’ll treat her right, Vyrak. You have my word.”
It was a simple thing, but it was enough. I nodded, my chest easing just a little, feeling some of the animosity and worry I’d been carrying lift.
Shira picked at her plate delicately, her feathers catching the light in a way that made her look almost regal. The tension between us from earlier had melted, replaced by something closer to what we once had. Familiar, warm, yet unspokenly complex
“So,” she said, glancing at me with a hint of that mischievous spark I remembered. “Daniel seems... lively. I didn’t think you’d go for someone so... energetic.”
I chuckled softly, cutting into my food. “He’s not what I expected, either. But he grows on you. He has this way of dragging you into his world, whether you like it or not.”
“Sounds like you like it,” she teased, tilting her head
“Maybe,” I admitted, my feathers ruffling slightly
"Hes just a good friend, and he makes things interesting, that’s for sure. What about John? He’s... quiet.”
John and Shira share a quick glance at each other as I said that
Shira smirked, taking a sip of her drink before replying. “He’s steady. Reliable. Sometimes it feels like he’s the calm to my storm, you know?”
“I can see that,” I said with a nod, feeling a small pang at how easily she spoke about him now. But it wasn’t jealousy—more like... acceptance.
Daniel leaned back in his chair, swirling his drink casually as he looked between all of us. “You know,” he started, his tone conversational, “it’s funny how you two—” he gestured at me and Shira, “—have spent so much time around humans but have never actually been to Earth. That seems like a huge missed opportunity.”
"I don't want to leave home for a while I think" I stated clearly
“But trust me,” I said, leaning back slightly, “if you’d asked me a few years ago, there’s nothing I would’ve wanted more than to be on Earth.”
Shira’s feathers twitched, and John leaned closer in his chair their expressions shifting just slightly as they got what I was hinting at.
Daniel, on the other hand, missed it entirely
I may have made a mistake
“How is 'Dirt' anyhow?” I asked, injecting just the right amount of curiosity into my tone to steer the conversation away from my grave error. I leaned forward slightly, picking at my plate as if Earth’s status was merely an idle topic. “I haven’t heard much about it lately.”
Daniel perked up instantly, as I’d hoped. “Oh, it’s Earth, not Dirt,” he corrected with a playful grin, clearly unable to resist. “And it’s... complicated. I mean, it’s still Earth. Beautiful, chaotic, way too many people in way too small a space. But it’s home.”
“Complicated how?” Shira asked, tilting her head. Her feathers smoothed as she shifted focus, clearly interested.
“Oh, you know,” Daniel said, gesturing broadly with his hands. “Politics, pollution, wars, the usual. But we’re working on it. Cities are greener than they used to be—well, some of them, anyway. Technology’s better. And you can’t beat the food. You guys should try pizza. Life-changing.”
“What do you mean, wars?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “Aren’t you guys a unified species? Shouldn’t your homeworld be unified by now, at least?"
Daniel’s shifted uncomfortably in his seat, running a hand through his hair. “Well... not exactly,” he said, looking down at his drink before meeting my gaze again. “Humans aren’t as unified as you might think. Sure, we’ve got some global organizations, but unity—real unity—has always been hard to come by.”
“So you’re telling me,” I said, a bit incredulous, “that we got our asses handed to us, by a species still squabbling with each other over colonization rights and mining charters?”
John finally spoke up, his voice quiet but sharp. "pretty much." John said, his tone matter-of-fact.
"Well, fuck me," I muttered under my breath, leaning back in my chair, thoroughly exasperated. "As you humans so expertly put it, this is one hell of a revelation."
There was a brief pause before I let out a mock gasp, throwing my hands up dramatically. “We got beat by a bunch of squabbling, over-caffeinated apes. Really puts things into perspective.”
Daniel cracked a grin, though he still looked uncomfortable. "I wouldn't put it quite like that, but yeah, it's not as glamorous as it sounds."
I leaned in, giving Daniel a playful smirk. “You humans will get through it. If you can win a war like that, I’m sure you can sort out your political mess back home, you'll change it, I'm sure if it"
I shrugged lightly, offering a small apologetic smile. “And sorry for all the war talk. It’s just something that riles me up, y’know? Can’t help but get a bit worked up when I think about how everything went down.”
Daniel gave a slight nod, his expression softening. “I get it. It’s hard to swallow, sometimes, when you look at it from the outside. But it’s in the past now.”
“Speaking of change,” she said softly, her voice tinged with something more reflective “You’ve... changed a lot,” she said, her tone careful but curious. “I mean, not just... emotionally. Physically, too.”
I raised an eyebrow, already guessing where this was going. “Go on.”
She hesitated, her feathers fluffing just slightly as if bracing herself. “Your figure. It’s... well, it’s a lot more—” she gestured vaguely, her cheeks darkening in a way that was almost comical, “—curvaceous than I remember.”
I laughed, unable to help myself. “What, this?” I gestured to myself with a smirk. “You’re just noticing now?”
“It’s hard not to,” she muttered, giving me a look that was half exasperation, half genuine curiosity. “What happened? You didn’t always look like this.”
“It wasn’t exactly my choice,” I replied, the words slipping out. My fingers absently tracing the edge of my glass. “You know, the reintegration program the humans put me through... It had its requirements.”
Shira raised an eyebrow, her expression shifting to one of understanding, though a small frown tugged at her lips. “So, it was part of the whole... re-integration process?”
“Yeah,” I said, nodding. “I wasn’t given a lot of say in the matter. They had their ideas on how I should fit in, more ‘appealing’ or whatever. Turns out, they like the whole... aesthetic.”
Shira’s gaze softened, a touch of sympathy creeping into her voice. “That sounds... frustrating.”
I shrugged, a small, self-deprecating smile tugging at my lips. “At first, yeah. It was all a bit much, honestly. But, well...” I paused, glancing down at myself before meeting her gaze again. "I cant say I blame them
I pause for a second to collect my thoughts “ And I’ve come to accept it. Most of the time, anyway. It’s just... who I am now. Some days it still feels strange, but other times, I kinda like it. It’s different, but not bad.”
Daniel, who had been quiet through most of this exchange, gave a soft cough and finally spoke up, his tone light but genuine. “You know, you’ve got a lot more charm now, so maybe the whole thing worked out in your favor”
I gestured dramatically to myself, rolling my eye with an exaggerated flourish. "yes, Ill attract all the females now, looking like this"
Shira let out a snort, her feathers fluffing in amusement. I even got a chuckle out of John
Daniel stifled his laugh. “Well, I mean... you might. Who knows? You could start a whole new trend.”
"Im sure by the end of the decade every Hakion will be like this, I said, throwing my arm out theatrically. “Picture it: all of us, strutting around with curvaceous figures, perfectly tailored to human standards of beauty. What a sight that would be”
Shira clutched at her sides, her laughter bordering on uncontrollable. “Oh, stop, I can’t breathe! The entire species?” she wheezed. "You’d have humans lining up for cultural exchange programs just to gawk!”
“They probably already are,” I said, completely deadpan.
Just as Shira’s laughter started to die down, a soft chime rang out, signaling the arrival of the food.
The waiter set the plates down with a flourish, and I couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at the array of food before me. There were vibrant, colorful dishes piled high with what looked like vegetables, meats, and sauces I couldn’t even begin to identify.
"Well, this should be interesting," I muttered, glancing between the humans, who were already eyeing their respective meals.
Daniel grinned. “Surprise! Thought we’d help you guys out and show you some of our favorites.”
I tilted my head, studying the food in front of me. “You’re not trying to poison us, right?”
John chuckled, giving me an exaggerated wink. “No promises, but nothing lethal, I swear.”
Shira raised an eyebrow, peering at the assortment of dishes with curiosity she said, giving me a playful look. “Besides, what’s the worst that could happen?”
I picked up my fork and poked at a strange-looking dish with bright orange sauce. “Famous last words.”
I took a cautious bite of the strange dish, and the spicy sweetness hit my tongue in a surprising wave. It wasn’t bad, just... different
John chuckled, mouth still full of food "See?"
I took another bite, a little more confident this time. "Alright, alright, you win," I muttered, conceding with a small grin.
The conversation drifted into lighter, easier topics as we all continued to eat, the food gradually turning into a shared experience that we all enjoyed.
We talked about everything from Rakion culture to human festivals, with each bite of food adding a sense of warmth to the evening.
I felt a sense of contentment and maybe things did turn out for the best, after all
It had been a few weeks since that fateful dinner, and life had settled into a comfortable rhythm. Shira teased me more, John had somehow roped me into trying even more human foods, and Daniel... well, Daniel had become a constant presence. I wasn't sure when exactly we'd started spending so much time together, but here we were.
Today, though, was different. My birthday. A concept I’d almost forgotten about until Daniel showed up, looking far too pleased with himself.
“Alright, birthday boy,” he’d said, practically dragging me out of my quarters. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”
That’s how I found myself standing in the waiting room of a human medical facility, staring at the sleek, black case he’d brought with him. Inside was a prosthetic arm, crafted with a blend of Rakion and human technology, its design sleek and surprisingly elegant.
“Daniel...” I began, my voice trailing off as I tried to process the gesture. “You didn’t have to—”
“I wanted to,” he interrupted, his tone firm but warm. “You’ve been making do with one arm for far too long. It’s about time someone did something about it.”
I stared at him, the weight of his words settling over me. There was something in his eyes, something deeper than just kindness, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.
“Besides,” he added with a smirk, “I figured you could use a hand.”
“That’s terrible,” I said, though I couldn’t stop the small grin that crept onto my face.
“I’m terrible,” he shot back, grinning wider.
The last thing I remembered was the doctor adjusting something on the machine, her voice calm and steady as she explained the anesthesia process. Daniel had stayed close, his hand briefly squeezing my shoulder before everything went dark.
Now, as my eyes fluttered open, the world came back in a hazy blur and I was... walking?
I blinked my eyes, squinting against the harsh sunlight streaming in. Sunlight? Why was I outside?
Looking down, I saw no arms—just my torso and tits, and to my horror, a thick leather leash tied to the collar around my neck. It was held firmly by none other than Daniel though he looked somewhat guilty
“Daniel…” My voice came out hoarse, equal parts groggy and horrified. “What the hell is this?”
He winced, his grip on the leash tightening briefly before loosening. “Okay, before you freak out—this isn’t what it looks like.”
It looks like you had the doctors amputate my other arm and decided to turn me into some kind of... pet!”
Daniel winced, his expression an uncomfortable mix of guilt and embarrassment. “Okay, before you totally lose it—there’s an explanation. Not a great one, but still.”
I glared at him, heat rising in my chest. “It better be good, Daniel. I wake up missing both arms and leashed like some kind of exotic pet? What explanation could possibly make this okay?”
He shifted uncomfortably, avoiding my gaze. “So... about the prosthetics. Turns out, uh... I might’ve jumped the gun on buying them.”
Daniel shifted awkwardly, his free hand rubbing the back of his neck. “Okay, so, funny story... uh, turns out the doctors thought I brought a set of prosthetics, not just the one for your left arm.”
My glare could have melted steel. “And that somehow led to them chopping off my right arm too?”
"It wasn’t supposed to happen like this!” he said quickly, his words tumbling over each other. “They said something about calibrating the ports for a matching set. And, uh... apparently, the ones I brought don’t match your grafting ports.”
“What do you mean they don’t match?” I growled.
“Well...” Daniel hesitated, visibly bracing himself. “The ports on the prosthetics are human-standard. Yours, uh, aren’t.”
“Let me get this straight,” I said, my voice deadly calm. “You bought human prosthetics for a Hakion, didn’t double-check compatibility, and now I’m sitting here armless, leashed like some kind of—”
My tirade was cut short by a strange, warm sensation against my torso. Glancing down, my breath hitched as I noticed a steady stream of milk trickling from my nipples, soaking the fabric of my top.
“What... the hell?” I whispered, horrified.
Daniel’s face turned a pale shade of guilty panic as my words hung in the air. I glared at him, waiting for an explanation, but nothing could have prepared me for what came next.
“So… funny story,” he started, shifting awkwardly on his feet. “The doctors—uh—offered a complimentary procedure while we waited for the arms to get recalibrated.”
I stared at him, utterly baffled. “Complimentary what?”
He swallowed hard, visibly bracing himself. “Lactation therapy,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
“Lactation therapy?” My voice shot up an octave, and I could feel the heat rising to my face. “You let them—” I gestured down with an awkward shrug of my stumps, the leash bobbing slightly, “—do this to me?”
“It was free!” Daniel blurted out, his face turning even more crimson. "I didn't think it would be like... this!"
exhaled sharply, frustration bubbling up in my chest. “Free? Really? I’m sitting here, leashed, armless, leaking milk, and say that it was free?”
Daniel flinched, visibly recoiling from the anger in my voice. “I... I didn’t know it would—uh—turn out like this.
I shook my head in disbelief, the frustration building up into something harder to contain. “You never asked me! You thought what? You thought I'd just go along with this without even knowing what was happening?”
“I didn’t mean for it to be like this, Vyrak. I really didn’t. I’m so sorry.”
I exhaled sharply, feeling my anger simmer down just enough to not explode. “It’s fine,” I muttered, though my voice was laced with frustration.
My attention shifted back to the strange sensation on my chest, the steady milk flow that wouldn’t stop, as if mocking me. The leash tugged slightly as Daniel adjusted his grip, his eyes never leaving me.
“So what’s the story with the party, are we gonna miss it?”
He hesitated, looking more uncomfortable than ever. “About that... So, uh, we already went.”
“What?” My brain stuttered for a moment. “We already went? When?”
Daniel shifted awkwardly, his eyes darting around as if looking for an escape from the awkward conversation. >“Uh, yeah, we... kinda went while you were, uh, a little out of it.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.
“You know, after the procedure... you were pretty groggy and, well, I thought you might need some air. So, I took you to the party.”
I blinked at him, trying to process what he’d just said. “You took me to the party... while I was drugged out of my mind?”
He nodded, looking increasingly guilty. “Yeah, I figured it would be okay. You needed to relax, and I thought maybe, I don’t know, some socializing would help. But... well...”
“And they all saw me like this?” I gestured down at my body with what was left of my arms, the leash still around my neck.
Daniel winced. “Uh... yeah. They thought it was cute. Everyone, including Shira... they thought you looked, well, adorable, honestly. Like a little pet.”
My mouth dropped open. “a pet?”
“It wasn’t exactly intentional,” Daniel said quickly, clearly backpedaling. “I didn’t know it would go like this. I just—”
“And did you... let me behave like a pet?” I interrupted, feeling a rush of anger again, but this time tinged with a hint of disbelief.
“No, no! I mean, not really,” Daniel said, raising his hands in a defensive gesture. “It wasn’t like that. I kept things under control, I swear. But, well... I think everyone just saw it as part of the... weird situation. They were all pretty understanding, and no one really expected anything out of you while you were like this.”
My frustration deepened, but underneath it, something else started to bubble up. My body, still sensitive from the lactation therapy, felt... strange, out of place, but there was a weird absurdity to the whole situation.
I let out a long sigh, trying to calm myself down. “So, what, I just sat there while everyone fawned over me? Like some kind of... oversized pet?”
Daniel’s face turned crimson as he looked anywhere but at me. “Well, um, I mean, yeah... but everyone was just happy to see you, honestly. It wasn’t as bad as it sounds. It was... kinda fun? A little.”
“I can’t believe this,” I muttered, wiping away the last of my frustration. “But... okay, okay. I’ll admit it, this is kind of funny. I look like some weird pet in a leash. But you’re making it right, right? I’m getting my arms back, and then...”
“And then?” Daniel asked, looking up at me with a hopeful glance.
“And then you’re going to throw me a proper party when I get my arms back,” I said, grinning mischievously. “And pamper me until then.”
Daniel’s eyes widened, his guilt melting into a relieved smile. “You got it. Whatever you need, I’ll make sure it happens.”
“Good,” I said with a satisfied nod. “Because the moment I get those arms back, I’m demanding a do-over. This whole... pet thing? Never Happened.”
“Oh, trust me,” Daniel said, still smiling, “I won’t let anyone mention it again, I promise.”
“You better” I growled. “I’ll slap anyone who dares bring it up after I get my arms back"
“So, when am I getting those arms back, Daniel?” I asked, raising an eyebrow as I leaned in, suddenly very serious.
Daniel hesitated, scratching the back of his neck as he tried to find the right words. “Well... the doctors said it’ll take a few weeks, maybe a month. They’re recalibrating the prosthetics, making sure everything’s a perfect match for your ports.”
I let out a long, frustrated sigh, but the absurdity of it all still lingered, and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. “A month, huh? Guess I’ll have to put up with this ‘pet’ look for a bit longer, then.”
“Yeah, but hey,” Daniel said, his tone more cheerful now, “that gives us plenty of time to get you pampered, right? You’ll barely notice the wait.”
I shot him a pointed look. “Trust me, I’ll notice it.”
“Alright, alright,” he said, raising his hands in mock surrender. “A month at most, and we’ll make sure it’s as painless as possible. Promise.”
It had only been a day since I’d woken up to this ridiculous situation—armless, leaking milk, and somehow leashed like a pet. I was still trying to adjust to the sudden changes when Daniel dropped yet another bombshell.
“Alright, so, uh, you’re going to be staying in my quarters for now,” he said, looking way too casual about the announcement.
“Wait, what?” I stared at him, my brows furrowing. “Why am I being moved?”
“Well, the doctors recommended it,” he said, fidgeting slightly. “They think you’ll need someone close by to help with, uh... day-to-day stuff. You know, until your arms are back.”
I let out an exasperated groan. “I can manage in my own quarters, Daniel. I’m not completely helpless.”
He hesitated, then gave me a sheepish smile. “You’re not, but, uh... you did almost fall over trying to open a door with your foot earlier.”
My face flushed with a mix of irritation and embarrassment. “That was one time.”
“Still,” he said, his tone softening. “It’ll be easier for both of us if you stay with me. I’ll take care of everything, and you won’t have to worry about a thing.”
I sighed, knowing he had a point, even if I didn’t want to admit it. “Fine. But I’m not sleeping on the floor, and you’re not treating me like a damn pet.”
Daniel grinned, clearly taking my reluctant agreement as a victory. “Of course not! You’ll get the bed. I’ll figure something out for myself.”
“You’ll ‘figure something out’?” I repeated, narrowing my eyes. “Daniel, this bed is barely big enough for one person, let alone two.” I shifted slightly, pointing my tail at the compact, military-issue mattress.
“Hey, you’re not that tall,” he said with a teasing smirk. “We can make it work. I’ll even let you spoon with me!"
“Daniel,” I said, my voice laced with warning.
“Alright, alright,” he said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I’ll sleep on the floor. Don’t worry about me.”
I gave him a long, skeptical look. “You say that now, but what happens when you start complaining about your back tomorrow? And what about, y’know...” I glanced down at my chest, heat rushing to my face. “This.”
Daniel’s gaze briefly flickered down, and his cheeks turned red as he coughed awkwardly. “Uh, yeah. I was gonna, uh, bring that up. Do you need, like, extra pillows or something? Or, uh, towels?”
“Towels would be a start,” I muttered, crossing my legs uncomfortably. “I’m not going to soak through your bed like this. It’s bad enough that it’s happening at all.”
Daniel rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding my gaze. “So, uh… maybe there’s a way to, you know, avoid the whole soaking-the-bed thing entirely.”
I frowned at him, already dreading whatever ridiculous idea he was about to propose. “And what exactly are you suggesting?”
He hesitated, his face turning an impressive shade of red. “Well, maybe I can milk you before bed?.”
“Milking me?” My voice was flat, my expression even flatter.
“I-I’m just saying!” he stammered, holding up his hands defensively. “It could help keep you comfortable, and it’d make sure you don’t, you know, leak everywhere.”
“Daniel,” I said slowly, my tone sharp enough to cut steel, “I don’t know what’s worse: the fact that you just suggested that with a straight face, or the fact that you’re probably right.”
His eyes widened in surprise, clearly not expecting me to entertain the idea. “Wait, really? I mean, it’s just practical! It’s not—”
“Don’t finish that sentence,” I interrupted, leveling him with a glare. “Let’s get one thing straight: this is only happening because I refuse to deal with waking up in a puddle. Got it?”
“Got it!” he said quickly, nodding like his life depended on it.
I sighed, slumping slightly against the headboard. “This is so undignified,” I muttered under my breath.
“It’s not that bad,” Daniel said, trying to sound reassuring as he stepped toward the small storage closet. “I’ll, uh, grab some stuff to make it as… efficient as possible.”
“Efficient,” I repeated, shaking my head. “Sure, let’s call it that.”
As he rummaged through the closet, I closed my eyes and tried to ignore the growing heat in my cheeks. The situation was ridiculous, absurd even, but deep down, I couldn’t help but feel a strange mix of mortification and reluctant acceptance.
“Okay, I’ve got a plan,” Daniel said, his voice muffled by the closet door.
I sighed heavily, trying to steel myself for whatever nonsense he was about to propose. When he finally emerged, he was holding… a bucket.
“Daniel,” I said, staring at it. “Why do you have a bucket in your closet?”
He paused, glancing down at the bucket like he’d forgotten he was holding it. “what, the roof leaks!”
I blinked, trying to process that. “The roof leaks? We’re on a military installation. Shouldn’t that be… not a thing?”
He rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding eye contact. “Yeah, well, budget cuts, I guess. Anyway, it’s not like I planned on using it for this!”
“Clearly,” I said dryly, gesturing with my tail. “But sure, let’s keep the bucket. It really adds to the ambiance of this whole humiliating ordeal.”
Daniel gave me a small, apologetic grin as he set the bucket down next to the bed, looking oddly proud of his “preparation.”
I stared at it for a moment, then shook my head. “If that thing so much as tips over and adds another mess to this nightmare, I’m going to find a way to slap you. Armless or not.”
“Noted,” he said quickly, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Bucket stays upright. No mess. Got it.”
I sighed again, resigning myself to the absurdity. “Fine. Let’s just get this over with before I lose what’s left of my dignity.
I'm stripped bare before the whole ordeal begins. slightly shivering as I think about whats about too happen.
"You ready?" a quick and chirpy reply from daniel, he sounds WAY too happy to be doing this"
"Not especially, don't really have a choice in this do I?" I am resigned to this fate, and at the very least maybe I can get off from this.
its been a bit more, difficult without the help of a hand
especially when you keep your toys in a box under your own bed.
I quickly kneel in front of him, it's best to get this over quickly rather than prolong it.
“You ready, girl?” Daniel says, sounding so smug and... oddly happy? He was practically glowing with excitement. It was almost adorable. Almost.
“I’m NOT a fucking girl!” I snapped, my voice sharp as my tail flicked in agitation.
Daniel just smiled as he reached for my engorged nipples
with a gentle tug he pulls on one, and then the other
back and forth and back and forth he goes, as I hear milk dripping down into the metal bucket
plink
plink
plink
I'm barley stifling a moan as he continues, why was he so good at this??
I try to voice my pressing concern, but all that comes out is a breathy moan almost sounding like a 'how?"
"oh this? My family had a small dairy farm back home. We had to milk the cows every morning before school, suppose you can call me a pro at this sort of thing!" Daniel explained as he milked
"The technique is the same, right? Gentle, steady pressure. No sudden movements.”
As if to emphasize his point he suddenly jerked one of my tits, sending a jolt of pain through me.
"as you can see you need to have a certain... method when it comes-"
I almost tune Daniel out as a sort of haze comes over me
I know whats coming and I cant stop it.
The soft plinking has stopped, now replaced with a constant splash against the milk at the bottom.
I was filling up the bucket!
With each passing second, the splashing grew louder, more persistent, and the volume of milk increased until the bucket was filling faster, the liquid pouring into it with a rhythmic flow.
The gentle splashes became a steady swish-splash, as the milk accumulated in the bucket, the sound now unmistakable, almost like a small waterfall.
Something else started splashing though, I could feel it
My 'clit' had started to leak
As much as I hated the term, it fits... what it was now. A small useless bump that serves only to embarrass me further
A pleasant agony had been building up as Daniel milked me, it was even worse then when I played with my tits alone!
I began to pant at this point looking ahead while not seeing anything at all
With a shudder and Loud gasp I nearly slump over, Daniel holding me up and keeping me from spilling the bucket
I could even hear as I spurted onto the polished concrete floor of daniels room, It was horrible
"oh vyrak-" Daniel says softly in a dotting tone "Did my little cow enjoy her milking?"
"Im... n-not a ...cow" I pant out quietly, barely even able to form a coherent sentence.
we sat there simply sitting in silence for a while
I suppose Daniel was letting me regain my senses, and cool down
I enjoyed being held
after a while Daniel spoke in his soft tone, asking if I was good
I shook my head still not wanting to speak after what he did to me
it was over now at least, any sense of pride I had left might have shattered during the milking
But I didn't die because of it
I glanced over to the bucket and my lonely eye nearly vacated my head as saw that it was full too the brim
"I did that?" I asked incredulously
"Yeah you did" came a soft and teasing tone "You were a good cow"
I moaned out a 'stop' not in ecstasy or pain but in simple frustration
I was NOT a cow
Daniel to his credit stopped with his teasing thankfully, though he did ask me a question
"So what are we going to do with all that milk?" he asked, his tone casual as he glanced at the bucket filled with the milk.
I sighed, the thought of this whole ordeal dragging on just a little longer making me more irritable. >"Dump it?" I suggested, my voice heavy with exhaustion, hoping to wrap up this whole milk situation so I could just get to bed. My body felt sore, and the last thing I wanted was to keep dealing with this weirdness.
But Daniel—being Daniel—had other ideas. "I'm gonna try it!" he declared, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he glanced at the milk with an almost childlike enthusiasm.
I stared at him, blinking in disbelief. "You're gonna... try it?" I repeated, my voice low and incredulous. "Seriously?"
"Yeah," he said, grinning, his face full of determination as if this was the most logical next step in the universe. "I mean, why not? It's fresh, right?"
I just stared at him, speechless for a moment. "You're seriously gonna drink that?" My tone was incredulous, but a part of me was also... weirdly fascinated by the whole thing.
This was the kind of absurdity I was stuck in now, wasn't it?
Daniel shrugged, looking utterly unbothered. "Why not? It's not like I haven't had milk before. I’m curious, though... how does it taste?"
I just shook my head, feeling a mix of confusion and disbelief. "You're insane" I muttered under my breath, my face flushed with a strange combination of embarrassment and irritation
Daniel didn't seem to notice my frustration. He just chuckled, clearly enjoying himself way too much. "Come on, it'll be fine" he said, giving me an almost innocent grin as if he hadn't just milked me like some kind of farm animal
I crossed my arms, not sure how to respond. "This is so messed up," I muttered, more to myself than to him
But he didn’t seem to hear me. Instead, he grabbed the bucket, lifting it as if it were the most normal thing in the world. "Alright, here goes nothing," he said, as if he were trying to convince himself.
I just watched, too exhausted and bewildered to stop him. This whole situation had already gone way past ridiculous, and at this point, I was half-expecting him to start making jokes about how I was his "little milk cow."
He paused before taking a sip
the sound of him drinking made me squirm, but I couldn’t look away.
When he pulled the bucket away and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, he looked satisfied.
"Well?" I asked, my heart hammering.
He just chuckled. "Tastes fine. Just... different."
I stared at him, horrified. "Different? Are you... serious?"
he shrugged. "It's not bad, alright?"
I groaned in frustration wishing I had my arms "I can’t believe this is my life right now"
Daniel's grin was back, wide and mischievous as he leaned against the wall, holding the bucket up like it was some kind of trophy
"Come on, Vyrak," he said with a playful glint in his eyes. "If you're so curious, just take a sip. You might like it."
I stared at him in disbelief. "Are you serious? I’m not drinking my own—"
"Oh come on," he said, giving me that look—the kind that somehow made me feel like I was being ridiculous for not going along with it. "It’s not so bad, right? You’ve already been through worse. Just a sip, for curiosity’s sake."
I hesitated, not wanting to be pushed into doing something I didn’t want to, but the exhaustion combined with his oddly persuasive attitude made me waver.
"I don’t want to," I muttered, feeling a strange tension in the air between us.
"It’s just a sip, Vyrak. Trust me. It’ll be fine," he said, his voice low and almost coaxing.
I sighed, rolling my eyes. "Fine. But just a sip. I’m not making a habit of this."
Daniel grinned like he had won a small victory, and I begrudgingly took the bucket.
The liquid was warm, almost too warm for comfort, but I swallowed it down in one quick gulp before I could change my mind.
It wasn’t as bad as I expected. I was still disgusted by the whole thing, but it wasn’t terrible either.
Daniel gave me one last amused look before standing up, the bucket still in his hand. "I’ll go put this in the fridge," he said, his grin still there but with a hint of satisfaction behind it. "Can’t let it go to waste, right?"
I just gave him a tired glance as he walked toward the door. "Yeah, sure. Whatever."
He nodded, and with one final chuckle, he was gone, leaving me alone in the room.
I still couldn't believe what had just happened. My brain was still struggling to process it.
I turned toward the bed, stripping off my clothes and climbing into the cool sheets.
The bed felt nice after everything that had happened today.
It wasn't more than a month since that night when I finally got my prosthetics
and the process was much, much easier than I had expected, of course, I had expected something to go terribly wrong, leaving me a cripple for another month, but nothing of the sort happened.
The new limbs felt alien, their mechanical movements smooth yet strangely disconnected from my mind at times, but it was a huge improvement from the constant helplessness I had felt when I was without them.
Daniel had been... well, Daniel. Supportive when he needed to be, giving me space when I needed that too.
But today was my day, daniel had promised a redo of my birthday and he delivered
The actual 'surprise' he had been teasing me with still needed some work, so, Shira, John, and I were dumped at some sort of mall, recently built with all the things a human could want.
it all seemed foreign and exciting. something different from how the old local stores at least. It even had a theater!
It has been so long since I've seen a movie in an actual theater!
Since before the war.
I couldn't even remember the last time I had been to a real theater. It felt like a lifetime ago.
It kinda was in a way...
My face lit up as I saw that some of my closest friends were there as well, even Geras and Qilat had managed to show up!
for some reason though there was a human in the group
Qilat and Geras were waving from one of the benches.
I almost didn’t recognize Geras at first—he was wearing one of those absurdly frilly pink dresses he seemed so fond of lately, the soft fabric practically swaying with every step he took.
But the most obvious thing was how normal he looked. His big, anxious eyes were a little more relaxed, his smile a little softer than I remembered.Beside him was Qilat, its been a few months since I last saw him, apparently he's helping pilot a cruise ship now.
for some reason a human was sitting next too him... and Qilat was holding his hand?
Ithi was playing with some comms device too invested in whatever she was doing to notice
My heart skipped a beat as I saw Urzuah stride over, a playful grin tugging at the corners of her mouth
With one swift motion, She knocked the comms device from Ithi’s hand, causing her to jump and glare up at her
"Oh Vyrak!" she called out, her voice carrying a strange mix of excitement and awkwardness as she scooped up her comms device and stuffed into her pocket.
”Took you long enough to get here,” Urzuah teased, stepping aside so Ithi could practically dart forward to greet me.
Shira and John awkwardly stood aside as the rest of my friends got up and said their hellos
I glanced around, scanning the small gathering for another familiar face.
“Wait, where’s Grare?” I asked, feeling a pang of disappointment when I didn’t immediately spot her.
Urzuah frowned. “Wait, Grare was here. She was just over by the table a second ago.”
We all turned to follow Urzuah’s line of sight. It didn’t take long to spot her.
Grare was standing a few meters away, completely absorbed in the display of a boutique window. Her sharp, trained posture was somewhat softened by the way her head tilted ever so slightly to examine the clothing on display.
“There she is,” Qilat said, relieved, though his tone carried a hint of amusement.
“Of course,” Urzuah groaned, rolling her eyes. “She’s window-shopping, what an airhead"
“Classic Grare,” shaking her head. “She probably didn’t even notice we were here.”
“Should we call her over?” I asked, watching as Grare adjusted her stance, arms crossed as she squinted at what looked like a particularly revealing dress
“Nah,” Urzuah said with a sly grin. “Let’s see how long it takes her to realize she abandoned us.”
“Urzuah!” Ithi scolded
Before anyone could say anything else, Geras stood up. “it will get her,” he offered, his frilly dress bouncing slightly as he moved.
Geras took a few graceful steps toward Grare, his frilly pink dress swaying with every motion, drawing more than a few amused glances from the group.
“She’s probably contemplating if she has room in her closet” Qilat muttered, the human beside him stifling a chuckle.
who was this human?
“Who is that, anyway?” I asked, nodding toward the human sitting next to Qilat.
Qilat glanced over, his cheeks flushing a faint lavender. “Oh, um… this is Arlen.”
The human waved awkwardly, his smile polite but a little nervous under my scrutiny. “Hi, uh… nice to meet you. You’re Vyrak, right?”
“Yeah,” I said, narrowing my eyes slightly. “And you’re… Qilat’s friend?”
Qilat cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. “Well, not just a friend.”
I blinked, processing his words. “Wait. Are you saying—”
“He’s my boyfriend,” Qilat blurted out, his voice raising just slightly.
The group collectively turned to look, and the air filled with a mix of surprised expressions and stifled laughter.
Urzuah leaned back, a smirk spreading across her face. “Well, that explains the hand-holding.”
“I knew it!” Ithi exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “I had a feeling, but I didn’t want to assume!”
Qilat buried his face in his hands, groaning softly. “Why does this have to be a big deal?”
“It’s just… unexpected, that’s all.” I never imagined him of all people finding a boyfriend, let alone a human boyfriend!
Arlen chuckled softly, looking between us. “Yeah, I get it. Qilat’s not exactly the type to broadcast it, huh?”
“Yeah, exactly,” I said with a small smile, trying to ease Qilat’s discomfort. “But hey, it’s cool. We’re all happy for you”
Urzuah leaned back, giving me a mischievous grin. “Oh, speaking of boyfriends…”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “What are you talking about Urzuah?”
Her grin widened, and she gestured toward me with a dramatic flourish. “Vyrak’s got a human boyfriend too!”
Everyone turned to look at me, their eyes wide with curiosit.
“I do not” I said quickly, but the teasing was already taking hold
“Oh, come on” Urzuah continued, her tone teasing. “You’ve been all over Daniel like a bitch every time he’s around”
The group gasped, some stifling laughter, while I could feel my face flush with embarrassment.
“I… what?!” I stammered, glaring at Urzuah. “That’s not true!”
“I’m just saying,” Urzuah said with a wink, “You two are so cute together. It’s like you’re already an old married couple.”
“Wait, Vyrak has a boyfriend?” Grare asks as she comes back with Geras
I couldn’t help but feel the heat rise in my face as I shot a glare at Urzuah, but she was having way too much fun.
“Oh yeah,” Urzuah continued, her voice teasing. “Daniel’s his boyfriend. And Vyrak’s, well, his bitch.”
Grare tilted her head, looking from Urzuah to me with curiosity. “So, when is Daniel going to get you eggnant, then?”
I froze, blinking at her in complete disbelief. “What?”
Grare's face lit up, her eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. "Oh, yeah! Being eggnant is so much fun! I’m totally filled with eggs right now, and it's like... cozy, warm, and soft inside," she explained, clearly thrilled by the idea.
Urzuah, still grinning mischievously, leaned over. "See, Vyrak? It’s fun. Just imagine yourself all cozy and eggnant."
I glanced at her, utterly speechless, as Grare continued babbling about how great it was to be filled with eggs.
"No, no, no!" I stammered, my face turning bright red. "I'm a guy! I can't get—what? And he's a human! He's not even my boyfriend!"
The group went silent for a moment, and I could feel all eyes on me, the weight of their gaze making my cheeks burn hotter.
"Oh, Vyrak," Urzuah said with an exaggerated sigh, leaning back with a grin. "I think you’re just in denial."
"I am not in denial!" I protested, feeling like I was on fire from the inside out.
"And this whole conversation is insane!"
Grare, completely unfazed, looked genuinely puzzled. "But why? It’s natural. I mean, okay, maybe humans don’t lay eggs, but you could figure it out, right? Love finds a way."
Urzuah just smirked, arms crossed. "Don’t worry, Vyrak. When the time comes, we’ll all be here to support you."
"What time?!" I practically shouted, throwing my arms up. "There is no time! There is no boyfriend! There are no eggs!"
Before I could recover, Shira and John exchanged a look that I swore Id seen before from them
"Let’s just drop this conversation, okay?" I said, my voice edged with desperation as I looked around at the group, hoping someone—anyone—would show mercy.
Urzuah grinned, clearly enjoying every second. "Oh, come on, Vyrak. We’re just having fun."
"Yeah," Shira added, her smirk widening. "You’re making it even funnier with how worked up you’re getting."
"I’m not—" I started to argue but stopped myself, realizing I was only proving her point.
Before I could respond, Grare’s eyes lit up, completely shifting focus. “Oh my stars, look at that!” she exclaimed, pointing toward a nearby store.
“What now?” I asked, exasperated, turning to follow her gaze.
“That skirt!” Grare practically squealed, her excitement bubbling over. “It’s so cute! Come on, we have to check it out!”
Before I could protest, she grabbed my arm with surprising strength and yanked me forward.
Geras, who had barely opened his mouth, found himself dragged along too, a bemused look on his face.
As Grare enthusiastically dragged me and Geras toward the store, I couldn’t help but let out a quiet sigh of relief.
“Oh, this one would look amazing on you, Vyrak!” Grare said, holding up the skirt in question. It was a soft, flowing fabric with intricate patterns along the hem.
I blinked at her, caught off guard. “You really think so?”
“Absolutely!” she replied, her enthusiasm unwavering. “You’ve got the legs for it. Trust me.”
I sighed, glancing at the skirt and then at my reflection in a nearby mirror.
As much as I hated to admit it, the more feminine outfits did fit better with how my body looked these days. “Yeah, yeah,” I grumbled. “It probably would.”
“Oh, don’t sound so annoyed,” Grare teased, pushing the skirt into my hands. “You know you’ll look stunning in it.”
Before I could respond, Urzuah appeared behind us, the rest of the group trailing after her with amused expressions.
“Well, well,” she said, smirking as she took in the scene. "You’re already trying on skirts. Didn’t know you were so eager, Vyrak.”
I rolled my eyes, adjusting the hem of my current outfit—a crop top and boy shorts. “I’ve been wearing this girly stuff for a while now, you know. Can’t really tease me for it anymore.”
Urzuah grinned wider, her smirk growing even more playful. “Guess you’ve got a point,”
Urzuah leaned casually against a nearby rack, her grin never faltering. “Well, since you’re such a seasoned pro at this now, maybe you should embrace it fully. Let’s see what else they’ve got in here.”
“Wait, what?” I stammered, taking a step back, but it was too late. Ithi and Urzuah flanked me, pushing me gently but insistently toward the fitting rooms.
“This is going to be so fun!” Grare chimed in, trailing behind with a sparkle in her eyes and a steadily growing mound of clothes piled in her arms—skirts, dresses, tops, and even some accessories balanced precariously on top.
Qilat, Arlen, John,Geras, and Shira stood rooted near the store entrance, their expressions varying from bemusement to outright disbelief.
“Are we just letting this happen?” John asked, glancing around at the others.
Shira smirked, leaning against the doorframe. “Oh, absolutely. This is gonna be hilarious. Might as well grab a seat and enjoy the show.”
“You’re all traitors,” I called out over my shoulder, my tone mostly playful, but Shira couldn’t help but chuckle in response.
“You’ll thank us later, Vyrak,” she teased, folding her arms with complete satisfaction.
Geras tilted his head thoughtfully."Geras thinks maybe it should get more clothes for Vyrak"
Shira laughed softly, her eyes glinting. “Oh, I like the way you think, Geras. Let’s see how far we can take this.”
I could hear their banter trailing off as I was nearly yanked through the fitting room door by Ithi and Urzuah.
As I was pulled into the fitting room, I could feel the heat rising in my cheeks.
“Oh, come on, don’t be shy!” Urzuah teased, tossing a handful of clothes onto the bench beside me. “We’re just getting started. You’ll look fabulous, I promise!”
“Yeah, just relax,” Ithi added with a grin. “You’ve got this.”
“It’s just trying on clothes,” I muttered, trying to convince myself more than anyone else as I stared at the growing pile of garments on the bench. “No big deal.”
Urzuah snorted, crossing her arms as she leaned against the fitting room wall. “That’s the spirit, Vyrak! Just embrace it. Who knows? You might actually enjoy yourself.”
I shot her a skeptical look, holding up a frilly blouse with an arched eyebrow. “Enjoy myself? Really? In this?”
Urzuah barked out a laugh, but before she could respond, a voice called from outside the fitting room
“Hey!” Geras interjected from outside the door, clearly offended. “It picked that out for Vyrak! IT thinks it would look nice.”
I slipped out of my clothes, leaving me just in a pair of panties, a faint bulge marking where my... clit was, still locked up and snug
as always.
I sighed, slipping the frilly blouse over my head with some hesitation
I wish I could say I missed my little soldier. but I didn't. It has been so long since I used the thing, and I have found much easier ways to get off now.
Urzuah’s laughter jolted me back to reality. “Well, would you look at that!” she said, smirking like a predator who had just found her prey. “You’re really pulling off the whole ‘blushing maiden’ look, Vyrak.”
She now came up and grabbed at my tits from behind, and gave them a gentle squeeze
"So cute" as she looked down at them from over my shoulder
I groaned and pushed her off, trying to adjust the blouse in vain. my cheeks heating up. “It’s not a big deal”
Ithi peeked through the door with a mischievous grin. “Not a big deal? Vyrak, you look like you walked out of some romance novel cover. All you’re missing is the hero...”
I shot her a glare but knew it lacked any real heat. “Don’t you start.”
Grare peeked in as if on cue, her hands full of what could only be described as fashion chaos—more frills, more lace, and a shirt that read, I Heart BHC in glittering pink letters. She grinned, placing it on the bench like a crown jewel. “This one’s next,” she said with an almost evil enthusiasm.
Ithi's grin only widened at my response, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Oh, I’m just getting started,” she teased, leaning in a little closer.
“Seriously though, you look like you belong in one of those stories where the handsome hero rescues the damsel in distress. Only, in your case, the roles are a little... reversed.”
I gave her an annoyed look my tail flickering just a bit from annoyance
I shot back, "Oh, I'm thrilled you get your kicks imagining big 'heroes' having their way with me. So, have you had any luck finding a 'hero' of your own yet, or...?"
The silence that followed was a mix of awkward and amusing. Ithi raised an eyebrow, her playful demeanor flickering for a second as she opened her mouth, but before she could respond, Urzuah jumped in with a sarcastic little laugh.
“Ohhh, burn,” Urzuah said with a sarcastic laugh. “Looks like I’m starting to rub off on you, Vyrak. That was good.”
I narrowed my eyes at her, but a part of me couldn’t help but feel a little proud.
I go to grab the next article of clothing they want me to try on, stripping quickly.
I hold up the glittery I Heart BHC shirt, staring at the words with confusion etched on my face.
"What does this even mean?" I asked aloud, genuinely perplexed, running my fingers over the sparkly lettering.
Ithi glanced over with a mischievous grin, clearly enjoying my moment of confusion. "It’s a thing," she said, leaning casually against the doorframe. "It’s one of those cute, trendy sayings people wear when they’re, you know, fans of something."
I glanced at her, still not entirely convinced. "Of what? What’s BHC?""Oh, BHC means that you love Big Hum—" Grare began, her grin widening, but before she could finish her sentence, Urzuah slapped the back of her head with a quick, playful smack.
"Hey!" Grare exclaimed, stumbling forward a little, rubbing the back of her neck. "What was that for?"
Urzuah ignores her “It’s just a fun little saying,” she said with a grin. “I Heart BHC means" she pauses for a second as if thinking of something ‘I love Big Hero Club.’ It’s a thing—kind of like a fan club, but for heroes and big, cool adventures. Everyone’s wearing it now.”
I narrowed my eyes at her, still not entirely convinced. “Big Hero Club?"
Urzuah gave me a casual shrug, her grin still intact. "Yeah, Big Hero Club. It's a whole thing, you know? Just a fun little trend for people who love heroes and, well, big, cool adventures." She winked, looking way too pleased with herself
"You knooow-" Urzuah continued "Shiras a Really big fan of BHC, like really big"
"Shira? Really? I would’ve never guessed."
Urzuah’s grin only grew wider. "Oh, yeah. She’s a huge fan. she would probably like to see you wearing that shirt~"
I shot Urzuah a flat look, crossing my arms. “Is this your way of getting me to wear it just to amuse Shira?”
Urzuah gave a mock-serious nod, her grin never fading. “Hey, it’s not a bad deal. You wear the shirt, Shira’s happy, and we all get to see you rock the look. Plus, it’s all about spreading the love for the Big Hero Club. You never know, you might find yourself a fan too!"
As I slipped the shirt on, I couldn't help but feel a little silly. The glittering "I Heart BHC" on my chest felt like a neon sign drawing attention to me. I pull on my boyshorts and hoped for the best.
I tugged at the hem nervously, my stomach twisting with a mix of excitement and apprehension. What am I getting myself into? I thought, but then I recalled Urzuah’s mischievous grin.
Something felt off.As I stepped out into the group, I could already feel the eyes on me. The shirt was glittery, bright, and certainly eye-catching, but it wasn't just the shirt that had everyone's attention. My stomach twisted again as I saw their reactions. Urzuah had this look of complete satisfaction
Grare was clapping her hands together, and Ithi... well, Ithi looked way too entertained for my liking, pulling out her device and began taking pictures.
geras just looked kind of confused, it was just clothes after all.
John looking up from the bored daze he managed to put himself in, furrowed his brows slightly as he took in the sight. "Uh... wow," he muttered, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.
He shot Shira a look, silently asking if this was part of some elaborate inside joke.
Qilat, ever the shy one, turned bright red and averted his eyes immediately, fidgeting with the hem of his jacket. "Uh, you look... nice," he managed to stammer out, though his face looked like it might catch fire at any second.
and finally, Shira who immediately locked eyes with me. "Vyrak..." she started, her voice laced with amusement, "you look... interesting."
I straightened up, trying to act casual "What’s wrong? I thought you’d like the shirt. It’s for the Big Hero Club, right?"
Shira’s smile flickered for just a second, and I could see the gears turning in her head. Then, without warning, she took a few steps forward and lightly grabbed my arm, pulling me away from the group. "Hey, let's go back to the fitting room," she said, her tone surprisingly gentle
She closed the door behind us, her expression torn between amusement and exasperation as she turned to face me
"Vyrak," she began, crossing her arms and giving me a look that could only be described as equal parts concerned and amused. "Do you really not know what BHC means?"
I blinked, feeling my stomach drop. “Uh… Big Hero Club?” I ventured, my voice lacking the confidence I’d hoped for
Shira pinched the bridge of her nose, her lips twitching like she was fighting back a laugh. “No, Vyrak. It does not mean Big Hero Club”
“Wait— “Then what does it mean?”
Shira hesitated for a moment, as if trying to figure out the best way to break it to me. Finally, she sighed and looked me dead in the eyes. “It stands for Big Human Cock.”
For a second, I just stared at her, the words taking an agonizingly long time to register. Then, the realization hit me like a freight train. My face went from slightly warm to what felt like a full-on inferno. “What?!”
Shira bit her lip, clearly trying to suppress a laugh but failing miserably. “Yeah. So, uh… you’re wearing a shirt that says ‘I love Big Human Cock.’”
My Tail flew up to cover the lettering on the shirt, as if that would somehow undo the damage. “Why didn’t anyone tell me?!” my metallic hands went to the sides of my head.
I was ready to rip out my own feathers
Shira couldn’t hold it in anymore. She doubled over, clutching her stomach as laughter spilled out of her like water through a broken dam. “Oh, Vyrak,” she managed between gasps, “your face right now—priceless!”
“This isn’t funny!” I exclaimed, pacing the small changing room in a panic.
My tail was still wrapped protectively over the letters, and my hands tugged at my feathers as if I could physically expel the embarrassment coursing through me. “I look like an idiot! They’re all out there laughing at me!”
Shira wiped a tear from her eye, still grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Okay, okay,” she said, holding up her hands in mock surrender. “You’re right—it’s not funny. It’s absolutely hilarious.”
I groaned, slumping against the wall as I buried my burning face in my hands. “Urzuah is dead to me. Dead.”“Shira,” I deadpanned, gesturing toward the door. “They saw me.”
She smirked. “Yeah, but they don’t count. They’re all idiots too.”
Shira's smirk widened as her gaze drifted toward the pile of clothes in the corner. “Alright, alright,” she said, brushing off her laughter like it never happened. “Let’s find you something else to wear—something that won’t make you want to dig a hole and bury yourself alive.”
Shira’s smirk didn’t falter as she stepped closer, her hands reaching for the hem of my shirt. “Alright, let’s get you out of this disaster first,” she said, tugging the glittery monstrosity.
While she wasn't rough in pulling off the shirt she still brushed against my sensitive areas causing me to jolt as she pulled the shirt over my head
“Shira!” I yelped, instinctively wrapping my tail around myself to shield as much as possible. “A little warning would’ve been nice!”
She just grinned, holding up the offending shirt like it was some sort of defeated trophy. “Relax, Vyrak. its nothing I haven't seen before.... you really should get yourself a bra though" She was staring at my massive tits again!
“Shira!” I protested, my face heating up as I crossed my arms over my chest. My tail wrapped tighter around me like a makeshift shield. “Can you not stare?!”
Her grin widened as she casually tossed the glittery shirt onto the pile. “Hey, it’s not my fault you’ve got, uh… an impressive rack. Seriously though, a bra wouldn’t hurt. You’re asking for back pain with those.”
Her tone was teasing, but there was a lightness to it that made it hard to stay mad. She grabbed a sleek black top sweeter with a deep neckline and gold accents that matched the collar around my neck.
“Shira,” I muttered, glancing at the sleek black top she was holding up. My face was still red, and I felt completely exposed. “I don’t need you picking out my clothes like this. I can manage.”
“Oh, this should do,” Shira said, holding it up to me with a glint of satisfaction in her eyes. "This one’s sleek and will totally match your collar. Plus, no embarrassing slogans or sparkles." She tossed it to me and gestured for me to try it on.
I stared at the top for a moment, the neckline dipping low enough to make me second-guess it, but I wasn’t about to argue. At least it was a clean break from the horror of the last outfit.
“Alright, alright,” I muttered, pulling it on. The fabric felt soft against my skin, a lot more comfortable than the previous disaster. The gold accents gleamed subtly, and I could feel the collar resting in harmony with the outfit.
Shira wasn’t done yet. She scanned the pile of clothes with the precision of a predator hunting its prey. “Now let’s get you some leggings,” she declared, her tone making it clear that this wasn’t up for debate.
“Leggings?” I echoed, my tail flicking nervously. “Don’t you think that’s a bit much?”
She raised an eyebrow at me, already holding up a pair of sleek, black leggings with gold accents that matched the top. “Trust me, these will pull the whole look together. Plus, they’re comfy.”
“Shira, wait—!” I stammered as she knelt down and tugged my boyshorts down in one swift motion.
Time seemed to slow as I realized what had just happened. My panties—delicate, lacy, and definitely not something I wanted anyone to see—were now completely visible. My face instantly turned crimson.
Then, to my utter horror, I noticed the faint, telltale shimmer of a leak right where my cage was. The humiliation hit me like a freight train, my hands flying to cover myself as best I could.
“Oh, wow,” Shira said, blinking at the sight before her expression twisted into a smirk. “That’s… adorable.”
“Stop looking!” I squeaked, my voice cracking as I wrapped my tail around myself like a makeshift privacy curtain.With a deft flick of her wrist, Shira swept aside my tail and tugged down the delicate lace covering the small disk keeping my clit small and limp
I covered my eyes, both in shame and horror, hoping to block out this nightmare. "I can't believe this is happening," I muttered, wishing I could just vanish from existence.
Shira continued to gawk at my exposed privates, her smirk growing wider with each passing second
She paused for a moment, clearly amused by my flustered state. Her eyes gleamed with mischievous curiosity.
"Ah, so that's why you get so flustered all the time!" she exclaimed, as if she'd just uncovered a great secret.
“Shira, please…” I muttered, my face burning hotter than ever. I wished I could just melt into the floor.
She chuckled, her tone softening as she leaned in a little closer, her voice teasing but light. “Oh, come on. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. You're... adorable when you're like this."
Her words did nothing to ease the heat in my face. If anything, they made it worse.
“I’d appreciate it if you didn’t call me adorable while I’m having the most humiliating moment of my life,” I muttered
Shira only laughed, the sound warm and full of amusement. “Relax, Vyrak. You’re overthinking it, as usual. It’s just me. You don’t need to feel so self-conscious.”
I said nothing, my tail flicking nervously as I tried to pull myself together. Shira’s gaze lingered, that insufferable smirk never leaving her face.
“You know,” she started, her voice taking on that familiar, teasing lilt, “The blushing, the awkwardness…I bet you’re like a walking bundle of horny half the time.”
Her fingers moved sensually lightly tapping the tiny disk trapping what made me a male
“Shira!” I yelped, my tail snapping to attention like a startled snake. “Can you not?!”
Her smirk only widened as her fingers continued to tap and tease my cage
The teasing pressure sent a shiver up my spine, and I instinctively wrapped my tail tighter around myself, as though it could shield me from her relentless taunting.
“What?” she said, feigning innocence, though the mischievous glint in her eyes betrayed her. “I’m just... curious.
It’s so small and neat. Kinda impressive how it keeps everything locked away so snugly.”
I buried my face in my hands, groaning in pure mortification. “Please stop talking,” I muttered, my voice muffled by my palms.
“Oh, come on, Vyrak,” she purred, leaning in closer. Her voice dropped to a playful whisper. “You can’t tell me you’re not at least a little used to it by now. How long has it been, huh?”
“Shira,” I groaned, dragging her name out in protest, but she wasn’t letting up.
“A month? A year?” she pressed, tapping the cage again, her tone brimming with honest curiosity. “Longer?”
Shira’s question hung in the air, teasing and relentless.
I debated whether to say anything at all. I knew she wouldn’t drop it.
“...A year,” I finally muttered, so quietly I wasn’t sure if she even heard me.
Her eyes widened, and for a moment, she actually looked surprised. Then, as expected, her smirk returned, more wicked than ever. “A year? Vyrak, that’s insane!”
I crossed my arms under my ample chest, my tail curling defensively around my waist. “It’s not that big of a deal,” I grumbled, though the blush on my face betrayed me.
“Not a big deal?” Shira repeated, clearly enjoying herself. “You’ve been walking around with that tiny thing locked up for an entire year, and you’re telling me it’s not a big deal?”
"its not That tiny" I shot back, defensively.
Not that tiny?” she repeated mockingly, her voice dripping with feigned disbelief. “Guess I’ll just have to take your word for it, hmm?”
I groaned, my tail wrapping tighter around me like it could somehow shield me from her relentless teasing.
“Oh, hush,” she said, cutting me off with a wave of her hand.
"We don’t want to be in here forever, so stop pouting and put these on" Shira said as she shoved a pair of leggings into my arms
“Shira, these are practically see-through!” I protested, holding them at arm’s length as if they might bite me.
“Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” she teased, stepping closer.
“You’ll look great. They’ll hug everything just right.” Her tone was far too enthusiastic for my comfort.
Sliding into the leggings was every bit as mortifying as I’d expected. The fabric stretched obscenely, clinging to me like a second skin and leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination. I tugged at the waistband, trying in vain to make them feel less… revealing.
To my begrudging surprise, though, they did pair rather well with the black sweater Shira had thrown at me earlier.
The sleek black top hugged my torso snugly, its deep neckline drawing just enough attention to make me feel self-conscious. Gold accents shimmered faintly along the hem, perfectly matching the collar around my neck—a detail Shira seemed far too pleased about.
“See?” Shira said, stepping back to admire her handiwork. “I told you it would work.” Her smirk was practically a permanent fixture at this point. “You look good, Vyrak. Like, really good.”
“I feel ridiculous,” I muttered, pulling at the hem of the sweater in a vain attempt to cover more of myself.
“Ridiculously hot, maybe,” Shira quipped, her eyes sparkling with amusement
“And it’s better than that BHC shirt, right?”
I shuddered at the thoughtShira beamed like she’d just won some grand prize.
“Exactly. Now, come on. Let’s show everyone the new and improved Vyrak.”
Outside, the rest of the group was waiting, lounging around near the entrance. Urzuah, ever the presence, leaned against a pillar, while Grare and Ithi whispered and giggled over something in hushed tones.
Geras sat off to the side, fidgeting with himself
Every few moments, his eyes darted to a flashing “Open” sign above the store entrance, his lips twitching into a slight grimace before he forced them into a neutral line.
Qilat was standing close to Arlen, their fingers shyly brushing together. John, as usual, stood off to the side
“Okay, guys, get ready,” Shira announced, her voice full of barely contained glee. “Presenting… the new and improved Vyrak!”
All eyes turned to me as I shuffled forward, tail wrapping around my leg in a vain attempt to find comfort.
Urzuah was the first to react, leaning casually against the wall. she let out a low whistle
“Vyrak, is that really you? Damn, man, I barely recognize you!”
Geras’s gaze snapped up
When Vyrak stepped forward, clad in a sleek black sweater and leggings that left little to the imagination, Geras blinked, processing the transformation with a faint tilt of his head.
“Oh,” he said softly, a note of awe in his voice.
“I-it suits you. You look great" Qilat said, giving me a small, shy smile. Arlen, sitting beside him, nodded vigorously in agreement.
John gave a small chuckle from the side. “Not bad, Vyrak. But next time, maybe a little less skin-tight?”
Shira shot him a playful glare, but I couldn’t help the blush creeping up my neck.
“Oh, please, don’t act so shy,” Shira teased, giving me a gentle push forward. “Everyone loves it, and you look amazing.”
“Alright, now that we’ve all properly admired Vyrak’s glow-up,” Shira began with a grin that promised trouble, “I have the perfect next stop for us.”
“Oh no,” I muttered, already bracing myself for whatever scheme she had in mind.
“Relax,” she said with an exaggerated roll of her eyes. “It’s just a quick detour… to there.”
She pointed down the hall toward a neon-lit storefront, its flashy display leaving no doubt about the type of shop it was.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” I groaned, tail instinctively wrapping around my leg again.
Urzuah smirked. “Now this is going to be fun.”
“Don’t we have a movie to go to?” I asked desperately, hoping to steer the group away from Shira’s latest scheme.
Shira waved me off with a laugh. “The movie doesn’t start for another hour. Plenty of time for a quick look around.”
“Define ‘quick,’” I muttered, glancing back at the storefront like it was a portal to some unspeakable realm of horror.
Urzuah clapped me on the shoulder, grinning. “Relax, Vyrak. This’ll be way more entertaining than any movie.”
“For you, maybe,” I shot back, tail curling tighter around my leg.
“Come on,” Shira said, practically dragging me forward. “Consider it a bonding experience.”
You know,” I grumbled as Shira continued dragging me toward the store, “it is my birthday. Shouldn’t I be the one deciding what we do?”
Shira didn’t even break stride, looking back at me with a mischievous grin. “Exactly! And as your Bondmate, it’s my job to make sure you have the most memorable birthday possible. Trust me, you’ll thank me later.”
“Bondmate?” I repeated incredulously. "You’re playing that card now? Don’t think for a second that lets you get away with this of all things!"
“Oh, but it does,” she said with mock solemnity, her grin widening. “I’ve taken it upon myself to make sure you live your life to the fullest. And what better way to celebrate your birthday than by embracing new experiences?”
Shira laughed, the sound as carefree as ever. “It means looking out for you and making sure you don’t waste your day doing boring stuff. And trust me, Vyrak, you need a little excitement in your life.”
“This is the sort of stuff that should be kept private, not whatever this is,” I muttered, trying to sound stern as I glanced around, wishing I could disappear into the floor.
Shira, however, seemed completely unfazed. “Oh, relax. It’s not like we’re buying anything. Just… looking around. Consider it an educational experience.”
As we ventured into the store, I turned to my friends, desperately hoping for some kind of rescue.
Urzuah was worse than Shira, Actively seeking out ways to humiliate me, rather then Shiras way
She was making absurd faces and gestures in my direction as she tried on a strap-on, so she was no help
Qilat, still clutching Arlen’s hand, nervously peered around the store, his face turning slightly pink. “I’m with Vyrak on this one. This is a little… out of my comfort zone.”
He and Arlen where staring at a poster of a human in some of the most absurd lingerie I have ever seen
Arlen, on the other hand, shrugged and looked at Qilat with a grin. “I dunno, man, it could be fun. A little adventure never hurt anyone.”
I groaned, my hopes of help quickly dwindling as I realized none of them were coming to my rescue. Instead, it seemed like they were all too amused or too hesitant to intervene.
“See?” Shira beamed, her grip still firm on my arm. “Everyone’s on board. It’s all about having a little fun!”
As the chaos of the store swirled around me, my eyes landed on an outfit hanging in the corner—lots of straps and bells and dangling trinkets
It was bold, ridiculous even, but my mind spun with a sudden, absurd idea. Maybe, just maybe, this was how I could remind Shira of what we had before John came into the picture
She liked humans, sure, but there were things humans couldn’t do. Like a proper mating dance
The tag dangled tauntingly, reminding me that this wasn’t exactly cheap, but if it gave me even a chance at winning Shira’s attention back from him, it would be worth every credit
With the bag tucked securely under my arm, I casually strolled back toward the group, doing my best to act natural.
“What’s in the bag?” Shira asked immediately, her eyes narrowing with curiosity
“Nothing!” I blurted, far too quickly
“Oh, relax,” Shira said, laughing as she scanned a nearby shelf. Her hand darted out, grabbing a small device that looked harmless enough—until she turned it on, and the buzzing sound filled the air.
“What the hell is that?” I asked, already dreading the answer
Her grin turned absolutely wicked as she held up the culprit. “Just a little something to help you loosen up.”
“Don’t you dare,” I warned, my tail curling defensively around my leg.
“Too late!” she declared, and before I could escape, she reached out and tapped the vibrating device lightly against my crotch
The cage probably made it worse
It was like a bolt of electricity shot through me.
My knees buckled instantly, and I hit the ground in a heap, tail flailing as my entire body rebelled against the sudden, overwhelming sensation.
“Shira!” I gasped, trying to catch my breath
“Oh!” Shira exclaimed, her laughter echoing through the store. “I didn’t think you’d actually fall over!"
Urzuah was doubled over, clutching her sides. “Oh, Vyrak, that was priceless!” she wheezedAs I lay sprawled on the floor, the aftershocks of that cursed wand still rippling through my nerves, a far heavier weight settled on me—humiliation.
And then I felt it. A warmth spreading, unwelcome and mortifying, across my thin leggings.
My breath hitched, and my tail stiffened as the realization struck. Heat rose to my face, turning my scales a deeper shade. This couldn’t be happening.
not again, not now not in public!
“Vyrak?” Shira’s voice cut through my spiraling thoughts, softer now, laced with concern
My bondmate, the one I trusted to stand by me, had just turned me into the punchline of the joke. On the date of my birth, no less!
My tail curled tightly against me, a shield against the sting of my own emotions.
“Vyrak…” Shira’s voice was softer now, the laughter drained from her tone.
I forced out a shaky breath, refusing to let my voice crack. “Why?” was all I managed to ask.
The laughter in the store died down as an awkward silence fell over the group. Even Urzuah straightened, her grin faltering as she exchanged a glance with Shira.
Shira knelt beside me, her usually mischievous expression now tinged with guilt. “Vyrak, I didn’t mean to—”
“You didn’t mean to what?” I snapped, the hurt spilling over before I could stop it. My tail flicked sharply against the ground. “Humiliate me in front of everyone? Make my birthday into a spectacle?"
my eyes where wet and I could feel tears running down my face now. not that I cared.
The guilt in her eyes deepened, and for a moment, she was silent. “You’re right,” she said finally, her voice steady but filled with regret. “It does mean something.
It means everything. And I messed up.” She sat back on her heels, her tail curling in a rare sign of unease. “I thought I was making your birthday fun, I guess I went too far, I’m sorry, Vyrak.”
Shira reached out hesitantly, her hands hovering near me for a moment before she helped me to my feet. Her touch was gentle, the usual playful force absent as if she was afraid of breaking me further.
“Let’s get out of here,” she said softly, brushing imaginary dust off my shoulder. The usual energy in her voice was replaced by an apologetic calm.
I didn’t answer, just nodded. My cheeks still burned, and my tail remained curled tightly around my leg, a barrier against the lingering shame.
The group began to gather near the exit, the atmosphere awkward and subdued. Even Urzuah had toned down her antics, casting quick, guilty glances in my direction. Qilat and Arlen trailed behind, clearly unsure of what to say or do.
as we approached the door, Shira’s voice broke the silence. “Hey, Vyrak…”
I glanced at her, still wary. “What?”
Her grin was small, tentative, almost sheepish.
“Should I… should I get the wand for you?” she asked, her tone somewhere between teasing and sincere. “You know, as a birthday gift—for later use. Just between us.”
The suggestion caught me completely off guard, and I felt my face heat up again. My tail curled instinctively around my leg as I stared at her, unsure how to respond.
Her lips quirked up in a faint, hopeful smile.
“Only if you want it,” she added quickly, holding her hands up in a gesture of peace. “No pressure.”
Against all odds, I found myself timidly nodding, unable to meet her gaze. “Y-yeah,” I stammered, the words barely audible.*
Shira’s smile softened, and she ruffled the feathers on my head “Got it. I’ll be right back.”
Once the transaction was complete, Shira tucked the small bag discreetly under her arm and gave me a reassuring nudge.
“Okay, now it’s movie time. I promise this part of the day will be all about you,” she said, her voice warm and sincere.
As we made our way through the crowded promenade toward the theater, the group gradually relaxed.
Shira kept close by my side, her demeanor as gentle as she was with me before the war, while Arlen and Qilat exchanged hushed talk.
It wasn’t until we were halfway there that I noticed something was off.
I glanced back, tail twitching with unease. “Where’s Grare? And Geras?”
Ithi frowned, her head swiveling to scan the throng of people. “Weren’t they right behind us?”
Qilat looked worried, clutching Arlen’s hand a little tighter.
“Maybe they got distracted again” he suggested, his voice tinged with nervousness.
Urzuah sighed dramatically. “Fine, let’s retrace our steps. Can’t leave anyone behind, I guess.”
As we turned back, John took the lead, his tall figure cutting through the bustling crowd with ease.
His keen eyes scanned the sea of faces, his human instincts for navigation proving surprisingly effective.
It didn’t take long to find them.
Just a few storefronts back, Grare and Geras were inside a brightly lit toy shop.
Through the large glass windows, we could see them standing near a display of plush toys.
We stepped into the shop, the door chiming cheerfully.
Geras stood in front of a shelf lined with plushies, his eyes fixed on one in particular—a soft, round astronaut doll. Its oversized helmet gleamed under the shop lights, and its tiny arms were stretched outward as if ready to embrace anyone who picked it up.
“Seriously?” Urzuah said, leaning against the nearest shelf with a smirk. “This is what’s holding us up?”
“It’s adorable,” Grare replied, not even glancing back. She placed a hand on her hip, her attention fixed on Geras. “Go on, Geras. Just grab it.”
Geras hesitated, his tail curling slightly as he glanced up at the plush. “It… it can’t reach it,” Geras mumbled, his voice barely audible. Its hands twitched nervously at his sides.
Urzuah rolled her eyes and stepped forward, clearly unimpressed with the situation. “Fine, I’ll grab it. Can’t be that hard.”
She stood beneath the shelf, her hands on her hips as she glared up at the astronaut plush.
Stretching onto her toes, she reached as far as she could, her tail flicking in determination, but the doll remained well out of reach.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” she muttered, stepping back and crossing her arms. “Why do humans make their shelves so high?"
Turning sharply, she cupped her hands around her mouth. “Hey, John! Get over here and he-
Before she could finish, Geras stepped forward, gently gripping her by the waist.
“What the-?!” Urzuah yelped as Geras effortlessly lifted her into the air, holding her as if she weighed nothing at all.
Shira and I watched the scene unfold from a few steps away, both of us momentarily stunned into silence.
Urzuah’s startled squawk nearly made me lose my composure. I pressed a hand over my mouth, trying to stifle a giggle as I watched the scene unfold.
Beside me, Shira wasn’t faring any better.
Her tail twitched with barely contained amusement, and her lips were pressed tightly together as if to stop herself from laughing out loud.
“It asks you to grab the doll, Urzuah,” Geras said happily, completely oblivious to the humor of the situation as he held her aloft.
Urzuah, the genetically engineered warrior, who could topple enemies with a single blow, was now being held by Geras like she was a mere child.
She squirmed in his grip, still trying to maintain her usual indomitable composure, but the situation made it hard for anyone to take her seriously.
“This is… this is ridiculous,” she muttered, but there was a hint of reluctant amusement in her voice. She shot us a look, clearly not pleased at the giggles she could hear from our direction.
“Just grab the doll, Urzuah,” I said, my voice barely containing the joy bubbling inside me.
The sight of Urzuah, usually the one in control, the one always teasing others, now helpless in Geras’s grasp, was just too much.
Shira, still standing beside me, couldn’t hold back any longer. A soft laugh escaped her, and I joined in, both of us finding it impossible to contain our amusement
Urzuah gave us a pointed look, but there was no hiding the small grin on her face as she held the astronaut doll.
"Alright, alright," she muttered, clearly unable to resist the moment of payback as she straightened herself up. "You’ve had your fun."
Geras gently set Urzuah down, His bright eyes locked on her for a moment, and then, without warning, he wrapped his arms around her in a hug.
"It is happy you grabbed the doll, Urzuah!" he said with sincere enthusiasm, his voice filled with childlike glee.
Urzuah, caught off guard by the sudden hug, stiffened at first, blinked a few times before giving a quick shrug.
She huffed, clearly trying to return to her usual
"It’s no big deal," she muttered, brushing herself off and straightening her posture as if nothing had happened.
The usual distant swagger returned to her voice. "Now, can we move on? I don’t have time for all this fluff."
Despite her attempt to brush it off, the faintest pink tinge on her cheeks betrayed her Embarrassment.
But, true to form, Urzuah would never fully admit it.
We stepped through the grand entrance of the theater, the golden glow of the lights reflecting off the polished floors.
The hum of excitement from the crowd surrounded us, drawing us deeper into the heart of the venue
“Well, this is fancy,” I mutter scanning the area
Geras, walking beside us and clutching his astronaut plush, stared in wide-eyed wonder at the intricate carvings on the walls. “It thinks this place is beautiful,” he said softly, his voice full of childlike awe
Urzuah snorted, smirking as she nudged him. “It’s just a theater, Geras. Don’t get lost in it.”
As we wandered toward the concession stand, the smell of buttered popcorn, sizzling pretzels, and sweet candy wafted through the air.
We ordered enough snacks to feed a small army
a giant tub of popcorn, drinks for everyone, and an assortment of candies.
“What are we even watching again?” I asked, balancing the popcorn under one arm while trying not to spill my drink.
John finally spoke up after a while. “It’s called Independence Day. It’s this old movie about aliens invading Earth. Lots of explosions, cheesy lines. it’s gr-"
Before he could elaborate further, Arlen stepped forward, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “Actually,” he said, drawing everyone’s attention, “it’s a true story. A dramatic retelling of humanity’s first contact with alien life.”
That stopped us in our tracks. The weight of his words hung in the air as the Hakions in the group exchanged wide-eyed glances
“This is before our war, right?” I ask, my tail flickering side to side in confusion.
Arlen nodded solemnly, his expression unchanged. “Yes, this happened long before we encountered each other. It’s part of humanity’s early history. A significant chapter in their development and survival as a species.”
John just glared at Arlen saying nothing before taking Shiras hand and leading us to our seats
I still felt a bit jealous seeing that
As I tried to squeeze into the cramped theater seat, it became painfully clear that these seats were not designed for my... increased assets
or for Hakions in general
it was easy enough to hop onto the seat but my legs dangled like a child
The armrests crammed uncomfortably into my breasts making me shiver
I shifted around, trying to find some space, but the more I adjusted, the more awkward it became.
Urzuah, sitting beside me, seemed to notice my struggle. With a smirk that held more than a little amusement, she leaned in, her hand on my shoulder. “Here, let me help,” she said, almost too casually.
Before I could react, she effortlessly lifted me, and without so much as a warning, plopped me down onto her lap.
“Urzuah!” I hissed, half-embarrassed, half-surprised by how easily she handled me.
But she just chuckled, her arms loosely holding me in place. "Well, it's either this or you keep making a scene," she teased, her voice warm but amused.
As the movie played, the booming sounds of explosions and intense action filled the theater.
The humans on-screen were fighting desperately against the alien invaders, their cities in ruins, their survival uncertain.
I was focused on the film
Well, as focused as I could be while sitting with Urzuah, her teasing hands getting too close for comfort, when suddenly I felt something press against me.
Geras had burrowed his face into my ample chest
“It thinks this is too much,” he whimpered, his voice muffled by my tits.
My face immediately flushed with heat.
There was no way to subtly handle this.
“Geras,” I whispered, shifting slightly, “…you can’t jus-"
But he only pressed himself closer, clearly terrified by the loud sounds and the terrifying scenes on the screen.
He was still clutching his astronaut as he held onto me
His grip was strong and he was starting to crush the air out of my lungs
My face burned with embarrassment. I could already hear Urzuah stifling a laugh behind me.
“Vyrak, you’re supposed to be comforting the little guy, not overheating,” she teased, her breath warm against my ear.
“Shut. Up.” I hissed, but that only made her chuckle.
John, a few seats away, gave me a questioning glance. “Is he okay?” he asked, keeping his voice low.
“He’s fine,” I gritted out, trying not to squirm. “Just… scared.”
“It thinks this is too loud,” Geras whimpered again, nuzzling deeper into my chest, as if my body was the only shield against the horrors on screen.
Just when I thought Geras had finally settled down, he shifted against me again, tugging at my clothing.
“It… it is thirsty,” he mumbled, still half-buried in my chest.
I sighed, trying to adjust my position without disturbing Urzuah, who still had me in her lap.
“Alright, what do you want? Water? Juice?”
He hesitated for a moment, then tilted his head up, his large, glistening eyes meeting mine.
“Milk.”
My entire body went rigid.
Urzuah nearly choked on her drink.
“Geras,” I hissed, feeling my face burn hotter than a plasma torch, “do you mean… like, from the concession stand?”
Urzuah was barely holding in her laughter at this point, her whole body shaking against mine.
“You should’ve seen your face,” she wheezed. “Thought you were about to short-circuit.”
“I hate you,” I muttered before turning back to Geras. “Fine, I’ll get you some chocolate milk. Just—just sit still, okay?”
Geras nodded, looking satisfied as he snuggled back into me.
Urzuah leaned down, still smirking.
“You sure you don’t want to feed him yourself, big guy?”
I elbowed her in the ribs.
“You know,” she whispered into my ear, “it’d be way easier to just give him some of your ‘local’ supply.”
My face burned hotter than a dying star.
“Urzuah,” I hissed, “shut. Up.”
"aw, you dont want to share with poor Geras? saving it for your human?"
Urzuah’s smirk widened as she leaned in close, her breath warm against my ear.
“Aw, you don’t want to share with poor Geras? Saving it for your human?”
My entire body stiffened, my tail flicking in pure mortification.
“Shut up,” I hissed through clenched teeth, feeling the heat rush to my face.
Geras, oblivious to the implications, only tilted his head in confusion.
“It does not understand,” he mumbled, still nestled against me.
“Does the human need milk too?”
“My hu- I mean, I mean Daniel…”
I stammered, my face still burning
Urzuah practically purred with amusement, her arms tightening around me as she chuckled.
“Ohhh, so it is for him.”
“Shut up,” I hissed, my tail flicking aggressively.
She let out a slow, knowing chuckle. “Oh? Slip of the tongue there, Vyrak?”
“Stars, Vyrak, is that why you’ve been so territorial?” she wheezed between cackles. “You’re already providing for him, aren’t you?”
“No! I It’s not like that!” I spluttered, my tail thrashing in frustration.
“And we are not talking about this in the middle of a crowded theater!”
John, seated a few rows ahead with Shira, turned slightly, giving us a questioning glance.
I wanted to melt into my seat.
I was stuck with Geras suckling at my engorged nipple like a newborn for the whole movie
He was gentle at least
I am unsure how I was talked into such madness, yet here I was...
My mind was a fog through the rest of the human film, though it seemed like the rest of my friends were enjoying it
Geras incessant suckling put my mind in an aroused fog
I could only really focus on him
He buried his face against my chest every time the screen flashed with explosions, whimpering softly while still gripping his astronaut plush like it would save him from the horrors of cinematic Destruction.
Urzuah, of course, found the whole situation hilarious.
“Aww, look at that,” she cooed, nudging me with her elbow. “You are his favorite, after all.”
“Shut up,” I hissed