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"https://nl1.ib.metapix.net/thumbnails/medium/5587/5587548_GuiltyDen_do_it_my_selves.jpg", "submission_right_thumb_huge_x": "300", "submission_right_thumb_huge_y": "300", "submission_right_thumb_large_x": "200", "submission_right_thumb_large_y": "200", "submission_right_thumb_medium_x": "120", "submission_right_thumb_medium_y": "120" } ], "description": "The sequel to [url=https://inkbunny.net/s/3387386]\"Thank you for your Service\"[/url] and the definitive, absolute, ending, for these characters.\n\nThis went on, way too long, not just in terms of length, but the time I've taken to finish it. I made good progress at first, but then got hung up on the last act. I'm having real difficulty getting back into the flow what with current events.\n\nAnyway, as always, if you have enjoyed, please consider leaving a tip with my [url=https://ko-fi.com/guiltyworkshop]Ko-fi[/url] link. Or commission me if you'd like a story of your own. Feedback appreciated", "description_bbcode_parsed": "The sequel to "Thank you for your Service" and the definitive, absolute, ending, for these characters.

This went on, way too long, not just in terms of length, but the time I've taken to finish it. I made good progress at first, but then got hung up on the last act. I'm having real difficulty getting back into the flow what with current events.

Anyway, as always, if you have enjoyed, please consider leaving a tip with my Ko-fi link. Or commission me if you'd like a story of your own. Feedback appreciated", "writing": "21 10 121 K12\n01:35\nNova Prospect; Republic core world\nIndustrial sector 3\nRecreation centre, Bar, The Hole\n\n\"I just... feel, so empty, get me?\" The big piebald dog groused, slumped on the plastic table, her many mechanical components whining in protest as they tried to process her inebriated brain waves.\n\nIt'd been half a year since her discharge, with full honours, but no matter what she did, Milli Smith couldn't help feel something was missing from her life since she'd left the military. Sure, she had a beautiful house, a loving husband, and a good pension she could fall back on. But something in her skull, her metal, just wouldn't settle down. Hence, why she was working in construction, why she kissed her adoring husband goodbye each day at five, and dragged herself back in at six.\n\nSomething, deep in her soul, itched, for more than just a stable, comfortable retirement. And with the best mechanised muscle the Republic could provide, her options were trimmed down to hard labour, or security contracts. She couldn't even go on to a teaching and advising role, thanks to one last parting gift from the service.\n\nA complete neurosurgical bifurcation. Every operative underwent it, their brains split in half and stitched together by a computerised bridge. It allowed the peace-time personality to 'Switch off', while the rigorously trained and programmed combat personality took over. It was meant to make better soldiers, who didn't flinch or doubt, but also better veterans, who could go home without the horrors of what they'd done. Unfortunately for Milli, after one deployment had dragged on too long, the barrier between her two halves had begun to decay, and signs of personality bleed had started to manifest. Hence the discharge, and the inability to settle down. She wasn't just Milli Smith, soft, lovable, mutt, with a just as loving raccoon husband, she was also Big Momma, Specialist of the most elite unit the Republic had to field across its many worlds. At least in parts, most of her distinguished military career was still locked away behind the cybernetic wall separating her lobes, leaving her with an inexplicable sense of un-fulfilment, of not doing enough, of failing to be... something, that her original self didn't understand.\n\nThe bulky mule beside her, the only one who could keep up with her augmented innards, gave a disjointed blink. \"Trouble at home? Yer man not givin' ya what ya need?\"\n\nThe pause that followed put a stop to the attempted '[i]Guy talk[/i]', as Milli's floppy ears flattened, and her drunken expression turned sour.\n\n\"Tim's great... but...\" but what? But they still didn't have a child after months of trying? That for some reason his loving, doting, bedroom behaviour wasn't cutting it anymore? That some part of her kept yearning for something rougher, and meaner, and harder? That no matter that she adored her Timothy, she could no longer feel satisfied with his company?\n\nSensing trouble, her drinking partner staggered to his hooves. \"Welp, I gotta get goin',\" the equine patted her shoulder, missing two out of three attempts, before slumping his way towards the door. \"Don't go stayin' up too late Mil's. Tough times 'round here...\"\n\n***\n\n01:40\nIndustrial sector 3\n\nDrunk, tired, head in the clouds, when the black and white dog started her stagger home, she had no idea she was not alone. The '[i]Clonk[/i]' on the back of her head was delivered by a pair of no name toughs, two young gangsters barely out of their mother's homes, a length of pipe stuffed with sand all they needed to bring her down in her inebriated state.\n\n\"Got 'er, you sees that Fang? Nailed that bitch!\" Yipped one young man to the other, both falling on their felled quarry, quickly and crudely starting to rifle pockets, and strip away sweaty overalls, revealing more fur, and the metal interwoven into it. Plush thighs were externally plated in steel, internally bolstered with plastics. The bushy tail fed into an articulated mechanical spine, which threaded all the way to the skull. Biceps were completely encased in armoured hide, and the inside of fingers bore the signs of skeletal replacements. But far less subtly, was the complete transformation of the woman's chest. What looked like two, large, plump, breasts while clothed, were nakedly matt black synthetics, bereft of fur, and sloshing with a warm, liquid weight, more like gel-pads than meat and fat. Each was tipped with a literal cap, like a drinks bottle waiting to be popped. They were a surreal sculpture of what a breast should be, lacking all organic consideration, a dispenser in erotic format.\n\n\"Shiit! She's chromed up the fucking fanny! You think she's a ganger?\"\n\n\"Who gives a fuck?\" The one calling himself 'Fang' closed the pointless debate, lightening their victim's wallet of her credit chit and identification, before pausing in his fingering of her goods. \"Oh shit Dirk, we got a military bitch! Check this shit!\"\n\nThey both took a moment to admire and whistle over Milli's Veteran's Society card, complete with it's small acronym for her rank of Specialist, and her position in the Rapid Response Commandos.\n\n\"Holy fuck!\" Dirk whistled, \"now I gotta fuck her. Hey, hey Fang, get a pic of me as I screw this bitch, I wanna show everyone what-\" he stopped, one paw already dropping his fly as he turned to leer at his prey, only to find the large woman had vanished while they'd both been distracted. \"Shit! She must'a crawled away, come on!\"\n\nFang swore and kicked the wall in frustration, before joining his buddy in searching for their missing prey. \"Fuck, she can't have got far, not after that whack we gave her. Probably just cryin' in a pud-\"\n\nThe pair froze, an animal instinct gripping them. A cold, prickling tension, rising up their necks, standing their hairs, as a soft hum of power came to dominate the dark alley. Dirk, fighting with the urge to flee, to tuck tail and yelp his way home, dropped the plastic card he was holding, and willed himself to whirl around to face...\n\nNothing. Only the tight passage, with the industrial lot at the far end, and half-powered streetlamps which drew the eye away from the fine details. He opened his mouth to say something, to shout a defiant \"Fuck off\" at the ghosts in the night, but never got that far. The muted crunch of feet on filth alerted him, before he was snapped up by two arms that could have belonged to a construction 'mech. He had one second to scream, before the cybernetic body barrelled him clean through the thin wall of the warehouse behind him, and dumped him in a tangle of shattered crates. Fang was barely left time to ready their make-shift billy club, before the giant mass of augmented soldier came stomping up from the dust, and snatched him by the collar.\n\nBig Momma, leered. Naked, her re-engineered frame unrolled from doughy, cuddly, soft, Milli Smith, into the military grade cyborg who had earned enough medals in her career to serve as an armoured jacket. Bigger, bolder, more brazen in every step. She was a different animal all together, and she was licking her lips.\n\nWhirring, a mechanically enhanced arm grabbed the hem of the gutter-trash's trousers, and ripped them clean off, along with a thick clod of fur to boot. Fang's piteous yelp was ignored, as the torn polyester flew over his head, and the semi-taut sheath of his rapidly shrivelling manhood was exposed to the cold air.\n\n\"Oh no~,\" purred the metal and meat monster, who's own sex was warming to a perfect smoulder, \"didn't the little boys want to fuck with the big dogs?\"\n\n\"Hey! Let me go, you fucking bitch!\" He bashed the crude cudgel against her a few times, but every time came with a muted '[i]Clank[/i]' of metal on padded metal, and each strike grew weaker than the last. The cyborg's mechanically enhanced bulk shifted, lowering the squirming male to the ground, as it sat itself down on his chest, crushing air out of his purely organic lungs.\n\n\"Not a chance. You wanted to fuck an army bitch? Well now this bitch is going to fuck, you.\" Her fingers closed tighter, shutting the youth's windpipe, asphyxiating him while his useless fingers clawed and scrapped at the steel of her body, and the unflinching iron of her will. And just as she knew it would, the fear, the desperation, the oxygen deprivation, gave rise to exactly what Big Momma wanted.\n\nServos purred as her thighs lifted, her surgically enhanced sex flooded her Heads Up Display with confirmations, as the terrified erection of the young man slid along her lips, caught in her crevice, and slotted his rocket right at the entrance of her chamber, right on target.\n\n\"Buckle up, boy,\" she growled, \"cause this is what you asked for.\" And without another word, the monster descended. No, she impacted, with a meteor strike of her pelvis to his, he was slammed into the concrete floor beneath him, and pinned like a butterfly on a board. At least one bone fractured at that exact moment, but if Big Momma cared, she didn't show it, simply rising, and falling again, and again. Mechanical whines, biological mewls, and the slap, and crack, of violent sex, filled the cavernous space, echoing back and forth, as the resurgent personality of Big Momma, Sexual Relief Specialist, of the Delta squad Rapid Response Commandos, pounded her victim into submission.\n\nHis cock was nothing to write home about, but it fit well enough. It's canine nature made it bulge where she liked, swell in her lips, stretch just the smidge she needed. In return, her computer controlled pussy contracted just below the knot, her walls constricted to match his thickness, and programming that had been locked away for months came into action to milk that shaft for all it was worth.\n\n\"Come on, big boy, come on, spill it all,\" she growled and moaned, grinding down on his pinned hips, clapping and crashing as she fucked him like a runaway train. \"You asked for this, you wanted to rape a woman so bad, but can't take it when she rapes you back? Don't fight it, give it to me!\"\n\nA gasp, a shudder, and a whimper escaped the young man as he felt his erection betraying him, rushing towards climax at an alarming rate, desperate to breed one last time before the looming black and white death above him ended his short existence. It was too much, and with a broken cry, he surrendered, spurting a weak tribute into the Amazonian cunt, before collapsing in a wretched heap.\n\nBig Momma, crooned, as internal chemical sensors confirmed his climax, rewarding her with simulated pleasure, even if ultimately it was no-where near the satisfying penetration her armoured core demanded. She let him breathe, let him gasp a moment, before her mechanical walls, clenched, and strangled life back into his flagging prick.\n\n\"Nuh-uh,\" she tutted and tsk'ed, eyes glowing in the dark as readouts filled her display, \"I'm not done with you yet...\" Before she began all over again. His pelvis was shattered, his testicles near burst from the battering, but she didn't stop until she'd milked every last dreg from him. And by the time he gave up the ghost, and passed into a coma, it was just in time for a groggy voice to emerge from the tangled heap of crates where she'd left it.\n\nBig Momma let go of her first dance partner, a string of white dripping from her cleft, as she moved on for seconds.\n\n***\n\n22 10 121 K12\n05:00\nResidential bloc D21\nPoppy Meadows\nUnit A\n\nMilli, bleary-eyed, dragged herself from bed, carefully unwrapping the small body of her husband from about herself first, and staggered to the bathroom.\n\nShe felt oddly energised, despite the hang-over, and the usual tiredness of a good day's hard work. It was like a light had flicked on in her brain, something buried coming back up for air. She showered, brushed her teeth, noted the redness in her eyes from not enough hydration, and reached for the medicine draw for a quick cure-all to-\n\n[i]Bzzzt[/i]\n\nMilli blinked. She was staring at the bathroom mirror. Her face was marked in heavy dark make-up, mascara blacking out the white patterning about the eyes and chin, war-paint. Her tongue hung out the side in cheeky expression, her eyes were devilish. She mouthed, and the words licked at her awareness. \"Nice to meet you, Milli.\"\n\n[i]Bzzzt[/i]\n\nShe blinked again, and it was gone. She towelled her face, got dressed for work, and headed down to make herself a breakfast, not noticing the stains she'd left at the edge of the basin, and on the musky towel.\n\n***\n\n23 10 121 K12\n22:05\n\n[i]\"... Both men are receiving emergency care at the Francisca memorial hospital. Police are investigating, but a spokesman has suggested the attack may have been gang motivated. Only time will tell if they will ever wake again.\"[/i]\n\nSmall paws worked dextrously to distract the large woman from the news projection, a loving kiss coming behind her ears, one after the other. \"Come to bed, honey, switch off and let me love you some more.\"\n\nTimothy Smith circled his arms about his much larger wife, massaging every spot he'd learned over years of romantic moments to ease the big mutt back into his compact frame. It didn't matter if he was stroking meat, or metal, or plastic, the unaugmented raccoon lavished every piece of his partner with affection. Something that Milli could never resist.\n\n\"Just catching up,\" she blinked away the news feed, letting her vision return to the purely material, just as her body began to ascend to the heavens of a doting husband. \"Sorry sweetie, I guess I've just been so busy lately, and-\"\n\nHe silenced her with a finger on her lips, before his teeth started nibbling away at her ruff, the bandit faced man churring as he worked her over onto her back, mounting her with nothing but adoration in his pointy features. He kissed her lips, her cheek, her neck, working his way down from collar, to chest, to rubbery nipple, and then lower still.\n\nMilli moaned, as a warm tongue hit the release valve of her clit, and made her come undone for her chosen mate. She lay back, spread open and vulnerable, while his bristly furred face rubbed her thighs, and his foreplay warmed and primed her body for more.\n\n\"Oh Tim, Tim,\" she moaned, feeling that pure stimulation of the cunnilingus, that short-cut to pleasure, ready her and drown out any lingering concerns from her day. \"Oh, Momma likes that, yes~.\"\n\nChuckling, dark eyes twinkling, the smaller man withdrew, wiping slick from his whiskers as he grinned down at the love of his life. \"What say we really make you a mother tonight?\" He half whispered, half begged, thin rod already hard and naked on the covers. \"I know we've talked, and tried, but, Milli... this time, I really feel it. So... shall we?\"\n\nHer heart skipped, her breath caught, her fingers wrapped about the slight flare of his narrow cock-head, rubbing it up and down the dark, juicy delta of her spade. \"Oh, Tim, yes, please. Make me a moth-\"\n\n[i]Bzzzt[/i]\n\nShe felt paws desperately slapping at her hips, her vision swimming, as she came back to the present, blinking at the small figure squeezed between her scissoring thighs. He was squashed deep into the bed, her fingers wrapped about his slender neck, her pelvis still working against him in a mechanical rhythm, shaking the whole frame with each slam of her waist. His eyes were bulging, his breath ragged, his strikes weak, as he looked up pleadingly at her.\n\nWith a start, Milli released her husband, sitting back on her haunches and blinking in surprise. \"Tim! Oh my god, are you okay? I'm so sorry, I must have...\" She trailed off, simply horrified as her brain clicked back on.\n\nCoughing, wheezing, Tim tried his best to wave it all off. \"Wow, Milli, I didn't know you wanted it rough.\" He coughed again, clearing his throat, while the larger woman shuddered and blinked away tears. \"Guess I need to, step it up a little more for you, huh?\"\n\nHer face burned with shame, and she was quick to reach for her husband and smother him in kisses, rolling back over into her usual place with him in her arms. Everything was on fire, her head and heart not reconciling with what she could see and feel. It was like she'd just woken from a bad dream, which still clung to her memory with the tenacity of a burr. And most sickeningly of all, she was aware that her loins were still wet, and unsatisfied.\n\n***\n\n29 11 121 K12\n05:02\n\nShe threw more water over her face, scrubbing hard, pressing palms to her eyes till they began to short and fuzz in kaleidoscopes of colour. Another day finding strange scents on her clothes, another night with gaps in her memory, she was beginning to unravel.\n\n[i]Bzzzt[/i]\n\nShe looked up at the mirror, gasping, to see '[i]Her[/i]' staring back. Not her, herself, the other one, who glared with daggers in her eyes.\n\n\"Stop getting in my way, Milli!\"\n\n[i]Bzzzt[/i]\n\nThe mirror was cracked, Milli's breath was short and ragged, as she bent over the sink, and emptied her stomach.\n\n***\n\n2 12 121 K12\n19:30\n\n[i]\"And in other news, the spree of sexual assaults continues. The victims, mostly male, are often found physical abused, and unconscious, clinging to life after what can only be called, an animalistic attack. Some say it's gang related, others suggest it's a sexual serial predator, targeting anyone who enjoys the city night-life. But with no leads after months of investigating, the authorities can only recommend that citizens avoid venturing out alone after hours, especially if you are in the at risk groups.\"[/i]\n\nTimothy Smith switched off the broadcast, sitting sullenly on the sofa as he listened to his beloved upstairs, dressing herself up for a night out with her colleagues. It'd been happening more and more, and her clothes had gone from work overalls, to casual wear, to outfits he hadn't seen her in their entire lives together. Provocative and skimpy, along with vibrant make-up that seemed designed to paint a bullseye on herself.\n\nShe'd come back in the early hours of the morning, shower before he could even see her, purring and humming in the satisfied way she once had from their date nights together. And the worst part was, the moment he'd ask, question, or even try to reach out, it'd be the same old Milli, the woman he'd courted, dated, wedded, years ago. There was always an excuses, and always he felt like he was in the wrong for pursuing her about it.\n\nSo when she bounced down the stairs, tail swishing, in a thigh length purple vinyl dress, her lips a bright crimson, all he could do was suggest perhaps, with the attacker on the loose, she should stay at home that night, with him.\n\n\"Aww, that's so sweet of you dear~,\" Big Momma purred, planting a sloppy kiss on Milli's husband, \"but don't you fret, cutie. There's nothing out there I can't handle.\" And with that, she was out of the house, leaving him staring sullenly at the floor, a shiver running through his fur.\n\nHe'd just choked back a sob when the doorbell rang, filling him with hope that it was her, that she had forgotten something and come back to him. Timothy Smith pounced on the door handle and flung it wide, looking up at... A large black wolf, in military dress.\n\n\"Mr Smith, you likely don't remember me,\" the large, armoured man rumbled, stepping inside without invitation and dominating the doorway.\n\nThe raccoon swallowed, \"You were Milli's commanding officer. I uh, sorry, I don't think I got your name.\"\n\n\"Captain Alistair \"Choppers\" McLean, and I'm here to talk to you about your wife...\"\n\n***\n\nNova Prospect; Republic core world\nIndustrial sector 6\nRecreation centre, Bar, The Pound\n21:02\n\nShe swirled the drink in her most seductive way, feeling every eye tracking the lazy motion of her finger within the rim, the tinkling of the metal straw seemingly louder than the Deadzone match on screen. The dress was hiked about one thigh, blatantly advertising her cybernetics to the clientele of the tacky, beer stained, bar.\n\nBig Momma bated her trap, making an internal bet on which one of the drooling men would be her playmate for the evening. Would it be the crocodile with the chrome-teeth? Or maybe the Ox with the crude hand replacements? Perhaps it'd be the rough looking husky, with the bionic eye and tribal electro-tattoos on his bare chest. They all looked like they could go a few rounds, and seemed eager enough to pounce her.\n\n\"You in'errested in summat sweetheart?\" The gruff barkeep huffed, a ram with steel implants to replace his horns. \"Or are ya just here ta shake yer ass fer free?\"\n\n\"Hmm,\" she sipped the overly watered cocktail a moment, smirking as she felt the snare tighten. \"No, I'm just waiting for a friend. But it looks like they're not coming.\" The drink clinked dramatically as she set it down, rolling her legs in a wide turn as she got to her paws, making for the door, wondering which of them would be the one that'd follow her outside, into the dark ally, expecting to-\n\nA large hand caught her by the bicep, just as the sheep behind the bar pushed a button, turning the sign from open to closed, with a ‘[i]Clunk[/i]’ of remote locks.\n\n\"We'll be yer friends, if yer friendly with us,\" the crocodile leered, yellow eyes eating her up from tail to tips. The whole bar turned, and shared that hungry look. \"We know what yer really want'n, missy.\"\n\nThe augmented woman, purred. Big momma let those big, clawed, hands, pull her back towards the bar, dress straps somehow getting shaken loose, the zipper falling to reveal more of her synthetic skin, the scaly palm finding a greedy hold on her artificial milk bags and mauling them viciously. She giggled and moaned, not fighting in the least as another came about to grab her by the chin, and bring her face up to look them in the eye.\n\n\"That's a sweet girl, you gonna be good to us? Or we gotta get, rough?\" The husky growled, red, robotic eye, stripping her where she reclined, his free paw getting inside his pants, pulling them down to show a stud riddled sheath, and ring studded cock.\n\nBig Momma nipped his thumb with a playful smirk, her hands working to speed it all along, the dress falling to her waist, and her rump finding the stool again so she could spread her thighs nice and wide. \"Rough's good with me, handsome. Seems I've got all the company I need~.\"\n\n\"Atta girl,\" crocodile whispered, tongue dragging up her ear, as his claws caught on the caps of her nipple augments. \"That why yer get yerself all done up, to take it rough?\"\n\n\"Oh you have no idea,\" tired of play, she scissored her thighs to bring her first partner slamming into her crotch. With no panties, and his sheath already spread open for his red rocket, they met with a slap, and squelch, where the rod dragged up an eager canine snatch. Her programming kicked into gear, ready to harvest, to accept his seed, and relieve all the violent tension inherent in post organic individuals. \"Fuck me, fuck me like you haven't fucked in years!\"\n\nThe husky growled, planting his toes on the floor as he pushed his studded penis deeper into the woman's wet cavern, the metal ring at the head sending an electric chill up her mechanical spine, as neurons of machine and meat both rewarded the bitch for getting something filling inside her.\n\nMeanwhile her fingers dug into the reptile's belt buckle, dragging him in so a lean was all she needed for her other lips to find his scaly slit, and the slimy muscle that was already soaking his briefs in thrilled expectation. She didn't need to bother with warming his cold blood, because the moment her tongue took a lap at the long, slithery length, it gave her a taste of salty expectation. Her maw closed as tight as her cunt, and both sets of lips sucked like hydraulics on the borrowed shafts.\n\nMeat and metal moaned. When the dog slammed his riddled cock in, the crocodile came down, compressing plush curves, as red and pink vanished inside white and black. Each stud on the Husky's rod was an electrode, delivering a miniscule spark to the mutt's sensitive flesh, making her gush as muscles contracted, and '[i]Mph[/i]'s' and '[i]Mrr[/i]'s' escaped around the tapered spire in her maw. Not that the scaly man didn't have his own tricks, the crocodile cock was practically prehensile, as it flexed and curled, tickling sinuses and making the woman snort for breath on each brief break between sucks.\n\n\"Wohoo! Fucking slut's hungry!\" Hooted the ox from where he sat at the bar, palming himself through his overalls, \"Ye gonna give her some puppies, boy? Gonna give her that famous knot you dogs always boastin' about?\"\n\n\"What you think, bitch?\" The ruby eyed husky snarled at the gagged woman, hips slamming to a wet chorus, dragging her off her salty snack with a wet pop. \"You want the knot?\"\n\n\"Yes,\" Big Momma begged, mouth dripping crocodile cum.\n\n\"Want some pups?\"\n\n[i]Bzzzt[/i]\n\n\"Not yours,\" Milli Smith growled, teeth bared and threatening.\n\n\"Too bad!\" Both the ram and ox grabbed an arm, and dragged her over onto the bar-top, glasses and bottles flying, her skull knocking on a beer tap. \"We're gonna have our fun with ya!\"\n\n[i]Bzzzt[/i]\n\n\"No need to get nasty, boys, just fuck me how you want me, I can take it,\" Big Momma moaned, fighting down the painful buzz inside her skull, battling the intruder in her life, the other voice that refused to let her have her fun.\n\n[i]Bzzzt[/i]\n\n\"I'm gonna murder every last one of you if you dare try to-\"\n\n[i]Bzzzt[/i]\n\n\"Don't think, just fuck. Give me that-\"\n\n[i]Bzzzt[/i]\n\nMilli Smith. Big Momma. Screamed, as their head creaked in pain, their brain sparked and boiled, and her computerised neural bridge did the only thing it could think to make the hurt go away. Acquire targets.\n\nTitanium reinforced fingers closed about a scraggly beard, armour-plated thighs squeezed with inexorable pressure about a diaphragm, as the doughy she-dog underwent a dramatic transformation, and soon the only sounds inside the bar, were of extreme sexual violence.\n\n***\n\n21:58\n\nAll was quiet inside [i]The Pound[/i]. Damaged lights flickered, broken bottles oozed, and bodies only drew shallow breaths, as the naked, shocked, and withdrawn cyborg, stood at the centre of it all, and tried to put the pieces of her psyche back into place. None of it fit. It was an impossible jumble. Milli would never cheat on her husband. Big Momma would never break someone for getting a little rough. She should have been at home. She should be guzzling a cock. She needed a warm hug. She needed to be brewing up a kid for the Corps. They were-\n\n\"Mrs Smith, BM. It's Captain Choppers, you mind if I come in?\"\n\n\"Wha?\" She blinked, a discarded chair leg falling from her paw, and a rivulet of mixed spunk dripping down her thigh. Slowly the gears started turning, the fractured mirror shifting as Big Momma heard the voice of her superior officer. \"Y-you c-cum to p-put me down, Cap?\"\n\nThere was a pause, a shuffling outside the door.\n\n\"I'm just here to talk, BM. Is Milli in there with you?\"\n\nDragging her eyes around the bar, the damaged soldier counted her options, weighed her odds, ignoring the pang in her chest following the mention of her other half. \"D-don't talk about that, bitch. This wouldn't be happening if she just, stayed out of my way!\"\n\n\"You know it's her body too, BM. I'm going to come in, and we can talk this through, no-one else needs to get hurt.\" All he got was silence, and that put his well-honed hackles on edge. The door slid open, the basic magnetic lock protesting briefly before surrendering to augmented muscle.\n\nInside was a shattered tableau of violence. Various men, all in different states of nakedness, all crumbled and broken, lay scattered about the room. One thrown over the pool table, another propped against the bar with his head on the ground, legs in the air, a third could have just been sleeping, if it wasn’t for the fluids leaking into the couch. But there was no sign of his former Sexual Relief Specialist, and team heavy hitter.\n\n\"Not even going to offer me a drink, BM? Catch up on old times?\" His eyes spotted a hint of movement, the door to the bathrooms shaking ever so slightly. \"You know it's the personality bleed, you know you were meant to be sleeping, in retirement. It's only going to get worse unless it’s fixed.\"\n\nHe edged his way along the wall, one hand resting on his holstered side-arm, the other gingerly reaching for the narrow crack between frame and door. He held his breath, ears pricking, listening for anything to give away his rogue commando. But he heard nothing. It was only when his fingers flicked it wider, that he saw the thread tied around the handle.\n\n\"Clever bitch...\"\n\nBig Momma burst from her hiding place behind the bar, barrelling into her ex-commander with enough force to smash him bodily through the bathroom wall, and ride his skidding torso to a stop. Her knees dug painfully into the small of his back, as she wrapped a mechanically laced hand about his scruff, pinning him firmly to the ground.\n\n\"That's what you get for fucking me over, Captain,\" she growled, her voice slurring between her seductive drawl, and pained anger. \"Sleeping? Try six months living inside the head of the most boring bitch on the planet! Screaming at her, unable to do anything but watch! Retirement my cunt! Try hell!\"\n\nThe black wolf didn't bother with words, slamming both his fists into the floors with all his strength, sending them both rocketing up, and back through the hole in the wall. If his spine wasn't mostly metal, it would have snapped from the forces involved, instead it sent the pinto dog stumbling off of him, and gave him the breathing space to square up and ready himself for the brawl he knew was coming.\n\nShe lunged, throwing a sharp jab that he took on the forearm, before ducking under a kick, and driving his elbow into her belly with a satisfying thud of muscle.\n\n\"You're getting sloppy BM, let's fix that!\" He snarled, teeth bared, and lunged for a grab, moving under her guard. Only to get a knee in his back for his trouble, as she pivoted around and reversed the grip, sending him flying for the second time, her mass and particular upgrades giving her the edge in a grapple.\n\n\"Not gonna happen, Sir,\" she spat back, staying clear as he sprung upright with the whine of servos and the protest of alloy. \"I'm not letting you put me back in a cage, not when I'm just starting to have fun!\" She swept forward, and with a snap of air, tackled him through the remains of the pool table, splintering the wooden frame, sending its previous occupant tumbling, before she grabbed him in a dirty hold she was thoroughly trained in. \"Speaking of fun, how about a fuck, for old times sake?\"\n\nDeftly she'd already got his trousers down, snatching hard about his sheath and balls, as the programming of the Corps came to her in full. Big Momma had been made for the purpose of fucking and loving heavily armoured, and needful, cyborgs, whom full flesh partners could never handle. Captain Choppers was exactly the enemy she'd been built to neutralise.\n\nHe knew it too, and did nothing to stop her unsheathing his pride as he lay there in the bed of kindling, only gritting his teeth as he felt an expert grinding his balls in her palm, and straddling him like a maestro at their instrument. In fact, he played along, willing his knotted prick to come out from hiding, as her slathering and cum stained crotch began to grind up and down his front, squelching and slipping with obscene gusto.\n\n\"That's right, captain, give me what I want,\" she panted, trying to keep the feral rage in check as she squeezed and pumped, head zinging with the excitement of getting a male she knew could give her exactly what she needed. A strong male, a powerful male, with virile balls, and a body that could fuck her to exhaustion before it snapped. Even if a small voice screamed, and howled, and made her hate the moment, she, wanted, that, cock.\n\n\"Sure, bitch,\" and in the moment of her triumph, Choppers grabbed her by the hips, deflected her angle, and shoved. Not in her gushing spade, but the puckered star behind it. \"I'll give you exactly what you want.\" And with one crack, he'd split her open, ribbed walls clenching automatically, but not stopping him, encouraging him to use her like the sex machine she was designed to be.\n\nBig Momma, gasped, feeling a worthy penetration, even if it was in the wrong hole. She grunted, rolled, but it was no use, she couldn't reach back and grab him without compromising the hold, and besides, sex was sex, regardless of the parts. So, she bucked, she squeezed, she let her programming take over to milk him with every muscle, rewarding her for each powerful thrust she absorbed. The fact that it was someone from her team, her squad, her people, broke down much of her resistance, and let neurons soak in the pleasure of being used by such a fat, hefty, knotted, dick.\n\nShe barely noticed his paws climbing her body, his thighs bunching, as he rose to a lotus pose with her pinned to his shaft. So long as he kept pistoning into her, she was willing to let him snuggle in closer. So long as he kept stretching her clenching tunnel, she didn't mind if he got a grip on her. She was still on top, she still her her paws about his neck.\n\n\"Oh fuck Cap, fuck Sir, you miss this bitch? You regret, canning me?\" She gasped, each wet smack making her plush arse ripple, her toned tummy bulging with his girth. \"Tired of fucking, Ginger, or you got some new, scrawny, bitch, to bury your bone in?\"\n\n\"That's not how it was BM,\" he grunted, eyes looking elsewhere from hers, holding back, searching, as his own orgasm began to build. \"You know I had no choice. You're sick, and need help.\"\n\nShe laughed, willingly bouncing along with him, knowing from years of experience how close he already was. She felt every vein, knew them intimately, as they burned with all the need of a frustrated super-sophont, desperate for a mate that could keep up, no, outpace them. \"Oh you're helping fine, Cap, I can feel it. Big, throbbing, meaty, cock like yours, built for a hole like mine, to squeeze it, just how it likes. You need to finish in me so hard, even if you won't give me a pup, dirty dog you are.\"\n\nGritting his teeth, unable to deny what the madwoman was saying, he took one of two options before him, and followed through on his plan. Groaning in protest, his machine enhanced legs tensed, and with a herculean effort, he hefted both himself, and the surprised bulk of Milli Smith and Big Momma, up to a standing fuck. Still buried to the knot in her arse, a knot that swiftly swelled with his impending ejaculation, preventing all escape.\n\n\"Didn't say, I'd be the one, to help you,\" he grunted, spinning her about with the thick bulb now firmly lodged in the colon, her own programming preventing her from releasing the satisfying lump till it was done. \"I know exactly what you need, and just who's gonna, give it, to you!\". Now pinned, stretched to a constant mild euphoria, he held her in a full-nelson, not bothering to hide his relieved shudders while his balls painted her guts white with the seed she so desperately sought.\n\n\"D-don't get, cocky, Captain,\" the mutt moaned, unable to help herself as computerised and biological sensors rewarded her with pleasure at finally being filled by someone who could keep up. \"You've got, no idea, what I need.\"\n\n\"Oh don't kid yourself lady,\" the big man sighed, and whistled, trying hard to keep his footing as the best bitch he'd ever had synched her anus with mathematical precision, better than any succubus could ever dream. \"I've been, where you are. I know, exactly, what you three, need!\"\n\nThe front door swung back into view, and before either Big Momma, or Milli Smith, could say a word about the rough treatment they were receiving, their eyes caught, and latched, on the fourth player in everything that was transpiring. Shorter, with wide thighs, a ring tail, patterns of grey and black, bright pink scars surrounding newly mounted mechanical parts that circled his hips, legs, shoulders and neck, the newcomer made both halves of the grunting woman freeze in icy dread.\n\n\"H-hi Milli,\" The freshly minted, cybernetic raccoon, Timothy Smith, gave a shy wave, standing there naked before his wife, and her former boss, who was currently buried to the nuts in her rump. \"Oh, and, um, hi, other Milli, I don't think we really met, last time.\"\n\nAgain, things snapped within the large dog. The sight of her lover, her husband, the person she said was the only one for her, shattered the glass on Milli's prison, and let her rise to the fore, jostling with her alter-ego.\n\n\"Honey this isn't what it looks like!\" Milli shouted.\n\n\"Captain's just fucking us proper~,\" Big Momma crooned.\n\n\"I'm really, so, sorry, sweetie,\" the loving wife pleaded.\n\n\"You just can't satisfy me like he can~,\" the soldier moaned.\n\nTimothy Smith visibly wilted under the barbs of Big Momma, but every time his Milli apologised, or professed her love, he became twice as resolved. With the whir of artificial joints being overworked by someone not yet adapted to them, the naked man advanced upon his spitted partner. He clanked where the commando's purred, stomped where they would have glided. But even if discomfort and pain were evident throughout his flesh, he came to stand before her, and did his level best to ignore the other man enjoying her body.\n\n\"Milli, Ms Big Momma, I'm sorry I didn't do anything to help you both,\" he started, a faint tremor in his voice, but clear enough to cut through the frantic bickering going on in his wife's head. \"But, I'm going to help you now, and prove to you both I have what it takes to be your husband.\"\n\nA sarcastic response died, strangled in the throat by the other half of the two minds in one body, only for both sides to be silenced as Tim showed them that he was now the one packing the big guns. His sheath bulged on direct command, a neural interface sending signals that had the meat inside engorge, and spill, rapidly inflating to a terrifying mass that went from crotch to chest. Some of it was still his original maleness, a slender pink Procyon penis, but only at the head. The rest was bolstered with burgeoning synthetic muscle, barely contained in a sleek, black blend of latex and reinforced plastics, often reserved for heavy-duty machinery. It was not the dick of a raccoon, nor any other beast, it was an industrial tool, ready to pump and pound into a reciprocating socket.\n\n\"Uh,\" Timothy swallowed, trying to ignore the dizziness caused by the sudden change in blood-flow and the new centre of balance, \"you both want this? You, want me to... make love, I mean, f-fuck you both silly?\" He kept coming, one clumsy footstep at a time, till the massive organ slapped, dry and hot, down across her front, running from her breast, down to her well lubricated quim. It thrummed with an electric pulse, half natural, half mechanical, and in the mind of the battered, burnt out, SRS unit, it flipped every switch.\n\nBoth Milli and Big Momma looked at the ramrod before them, stared up and down at it, each knowing exactly what they wanted to do with it.\n\n\"Please, Tim,\" [i]Bzzzt[/i]. \"Pound my bitch hole raw~.\" [i]Bzzzt[/i]. \"Take me, baby, please, I need you!\" [i]Bzzzt[/i]. \"I need that fat cock deep inside me now~.\"\n\nNot one to argue with his wife, the small man back peddled enough to get the head down and into the right slot, doing his best to ignore the pair of balls he could see on the other side of the big woman. She cooed, in a two-tone duet, and he thrust. It was awkward, his new equipment not yet having the same muscle memory his regular self would have had. But once the tip breached, and his new senses told him he was on target, he was quick to grab the she-dog by her thighs, and lean in the rest of the way.\n\nThe stretch was perfect, the patchwork cock just right to give the specialist the stimulation she was aching for. She could have sworn she was seeing stars, or maybe just electrical arcs, as neurons fired in synchronicity, and the damaged bridge unit shorted in a feedback loop of mutual pleasure.\n\nBehind her, her former captain chuckled in her ear, doing his best to hold her weight and weather the force of the impact. \"You see, BM. I've been right where you are. Two minds, out of synch. All you need, is to both focus, on what it is you both want.\" He felt a shudder in her sphincter and grinned his way through a fresh erection in her bowels, \"you both want him, don't you? You want that man, and his cock, and his-\"\n\n\"Mr Choppers, sir,\" Tim Smith cut him off, looking up at Milli's shocked expression, ignoring him pointedly, \"could you shut up please and let me make love to my wife?\"\n\nThe wolf blinked, stunned, before giving a shrug and letting the raccoon take the spotlight. With his arms about her hips, his pelvis against hers, the raccoon wore the face of a man determined to win the heart of the one they loved. No matter what trouble she was in, difficulties they’d face, he was going to be the one to help her through.\n\nComfortably in now, lubricated with the dog's juices, and others', Tim drew his hips back, and threw them forward, again, and then again, in a rapidly building rhythm. Cybernetic flesh, working from pre-programmed commands, moved his spine and thighs for him, leaving him free to hold, pet, grasp, and love this woman in his arms. Fingers gripped, and squeezed at armoured thighs, scrapped up to a fluff covered waist, wrapped about her back and tail, and drew her in so his snout could press firm between her synthetic breasts.\n\n\"I love you, Melissa Smith, I love you when you're soft and gentle. And I love you when you're big and dangerous. I know you've been, doing things, but right now, I'm just glad to have the both of you, here, with me. That's all that matters.\"\n\n\"Aw, honey,\" the gentle giant murmured, her half of her brain melting and refocusing, struggling to keep the conversation straight, and not just drool from the feeling of her innards being rearranged by the weaponised sex-toy pummelling her walls, giving them a work-out that tested them to the limits. \"Tim, please, take me, love, just, just,\" she groaned, her whole frame vibrating, her toes curling. She couldn't say any more.\n\nHer words choked, dying in her throat, as a shockingly powerful spasm erupted from her quivering pussy. And as she passed out into bliss, Big Momma stepped in to take her share.\n\n\"Good boy, Timmy,\" her voice rumbled, guttural, growling, a sound that set the smaller man's fur on end. Her legs wrapped about his midsection, drawing him in till her back was arched, and he was practically sitting on the knot in her back-passage. \"Always knew you must be a kinky little freak to get with a girl like me. A bit, ahem, big, now, ain'tcha? Well, now, I'm giving you the opportunity, to live. Your. Filthiest. Dream. Ride, me, baby, and give me your best shot~.\"\n\n\"Oh, wow, y-you, sure are, s-something,\" he shivered, eyes alight with the sense of danger, while muscular arms grabbed him firm about the neck, and squeezed. His new reinforced plates protested, his breath getting short, but they held, and lent desperation to the hard fucking he was giving the ex-commando. \"I've always, thought it was, sexy, how big, and strong, and deadly, you could be,\" he gasped, loins slamming home with a slopping sound and a machine like precision. \"But, I didn't, ah, didn't guess, it'd be this much, this intense!\"\n\n\"Intense, ahh, hmhm,\" his lover's other half licked her chops, grinning a razor-like smile as she squeezed him tight, and made his vision blur. \"That's cause, honey, you ain't been fucking me hard enough. Come on, if you want to win me over, you're gonna have to show, Ahh~, me. That you're worth it.\"\n\n\"Well, then, I'll have, have to, give it, all, I've, got!\" Sweat pouring from his brow, his back and shoulders protesting, he did just that. The implanted heads-up in his retina gave him the green light, eyes glowing briefly as it winked, and then his pelvis went into overdrive. The cyborg cock bulked, sinews bulging inside her pillowy flesh, as her outer lips struggled to adjust in time to match, even with her own mechanical alterations. But that wasn't the best of it. Before she could give some snide remark, or filthy encouragement, the small man moved back, and then rammed in to the hilt. Not a gentle acceleration, it was like a pneumatic drill, rapid and unrelenting, swiftly sending ropes of arousal flying with the force of his impacts.\n\n\"Y-yeah, yeah, th-that's, good, good boy, that's,\" her composure slipped, his hands finding a new grip about her ribs, as his mouth clamped fast on her left teat. A dextrous tongue flicked the latch on the cover off, and then invaded the raw nerves of the storage tank behind, tongue-fucking her breast in a hunt for milk, or just her over-stimulation. Either way, the result was a keening moan and an orgasm tearing its way up the Amazonian female's nethers.\n\n\"Ahha, ahaha,\" the battle-bred woman trembled, clinging, her inner passages clutching her paramour's pole, fluttering as it did all it could to take his pleasure, to meet his demands. She could hear him squeaking, fighting, feel him jerking, as he suffered under the strain of his new parts, fresh scars tearing, as his rushed construction took a toll. Something deep inside, unlocked with her climax, her head starting to clear, a sense of need, and... and genuine care, unfolding in her, just as her gushing release did.\n\n\"Oh, oh fuck, oh fuck me little man. You, you're doing, doing good,\" she hissed and gasped, shaking her head, feeling content in a way that no big-dicked, drunken arsehole, or mechanical super-soldier had ever made her feel before. It was real, and true, and the kind of satisfaction that her addled programming had never expected. \"B-but you know what would m-make me, us, r-really happy right now, Tim?\"\n\nHe groaned, sweat, and spasms rocking him, his jaw locked in a grimace as he ignored pain, and fought his own pleasure, engorged nuts groaning and creaking with a desperate desire to be done and shoot, so he could rest his aching bones. He'd never had sex like this before, never felt his wife squeeze him like that, wring his prick so hard, a prick that now was all the way at the gates of her womb, and straining to breach even that.\n\n\"Wh-what is it, M-Milli, Ma'am, tell, me, whatever, you need,\" he panted, a whimper following his every syllable.\n\nTwo powerful paws came up, gripping him tenderly about the neck, the chin, eyes locking as a gentle calm rocked the centre of her whirlwind of an orgasm. \"Give me that baby you've been promising me, sugar~,\" she whispered, leaning forward, her lips parted, her tongue hanging long.\n\nIt was an invitation he could not refuse, the raccoon pressed, kissed, and pushed his hyper-sized, throbbing, bloated, cock, the rest of the way in. As it breached the cervix, and plunged to the back, his entire body shuddered, and his shaft, and testicles, tightened, and went off like a gun. He shot his payload in a rapid spray, more than he'd ever done before, a white tide that coated the cybernetic womb in virile genetic data, enough that it broke the mental block between left and right in Milli's mind, and triggered her reproductive protocols. Milli 'Big Momma' Smith, was going to live up to her call sign, and bulge with a babe once more, his babe, her lover's, her husband's.\n\n“I’ve got, one last present for you, dear,” he panted, bliss filling his head, as his newly mounted HUD informed him her parting ‘[i]Retirement gift[/i]’ from the military was ready. He initiated it, and the perfectly modelled synthetic knot, inflated on command.\n\nIt was an exact fit for her maximum capacity, and the result was explosive. The big mutt howled, like she never had before, as every centimetre of her vestibule was stretched. Every nerve, real and artificial, sparked as one. Left brain, and right brain, bridged. Newly grown synapses, built from experiences, healed overtop of their damaged computer counterpart, and made her one again. Or two, as her uncapped nipple started leaking sugary nectar, a sign her body had started the count-down to her first child with the man she loved.\n\n\"I love you, Milli,\" the happy husband sighed, bringing her face in till their foreheads touched, \"every bit of you. Forever and always.\"\n\n\"You too, hon,\" she whispered back, nuzzling him in turn, noses rubbing together. \"Thank you for saving me from myself.\"\n\nA cough sounded, and a gruff growl from the forgotten captain behind them. \"That was very moving,\" he grunted, now finally flaccid, \"but if you're both done, I'm about to drop you on your arses.\"\n\n***\n\nTen minutes after, the captain left through the front door, having told the couple that an unmarked car was waiting for them out the back when they were finished. He sighed heavily, and took a drag of an electro-stim stick, eyes a little glassy in the night air.\n\n\"Need me to take the shot?\" Came a cold voice over his squad-net communications, bringing him back to the moment, and the dark figures lurking nearby in full body armour.\n\n\"Negative, Ginger, stand down. We're green.\"\n\nThe feline went silent, and the Commandos of Delta squad slowly fell in line with their captain, as they climbed into the back of a waiting van, and vanished into the night.\n\n***\n\n21 10 125 K12\n10:29\nNova Prospect; Republic core world\nRepublic Joint Operations Base: Hawthorne\nGymnasium 5\n\n\"Shake a leg, ladies! Use that weight! You want to be commando's or what?\" Milli growled, pacing up and down the line of sweating recruits, all struggling and panting against the weight of their combat load. \"Don't be scared to lift that baby up and swing! The Corps didn't build those bellies to break, so roll those hips and throw!\"\n\nDespite her shouting, Training Officer Smith smiled as she watched the young women of her class learn the same lessons she had. Now with the full memories of her time as a soldier, the world had opened up to her. The Army had approached her with an offer, a return to reserve service, and most importantly, a fulfilling career raising the future generations that would keep the Republic safe.\n\nA buzzer sounded, and a relieved set of sighs and pants came from her class of SRS candidates, as the morning work-out ended. With a terse throw of her head, she gave them leave to shower, and watched them each file out, faux pregnancies bouncing as they fled to get their first meal of the day.\n\nThe doors swung open one more time, and a small man handed her her towel, and lunch box.\n\n\"Do you really have to work them so hard, sweetie?\" He asked, concern touching his voice. \"Some of those girls looked like they could barely walk.\"\n\nShe chuckled, wiping her sweaty brow, and reaching down to kiss Tim on the scalp. \"Nothing they can't survive, honey. And what did I say about sweet-talk on base?\" She tapped him lightly on the nose, making him blink and shake his head. \"No mushy stuff till I'm off shift,\" she winked, striding off towards the officer's showers. \"Besides, some of them need the barking. Wouldn't have survived training if someone hadn't pushed me hard enough.\"\n\nTimothy Smith watched as his army mutt of a wife, and her very real belly, strode away from him, unable to keep his eyes off her rolling figure. The last three years had been very good for them, and their family. Three years, three puppies in, and still they were practically joined at the '[i]Ahem[/i]' hip, when they could find the time.\n\n\"Well,\" her cry jolted him back to reality, \"isn't my personal SRS husband going to join his commanding officer for a hot, foamy, rub-down?\" She wagged her tail suggestively, leaning on the door frame just so, to reveal all her curves.\n\nShe watched with a smile, as her doting lover jumped to attention, snapping an exaggerated salute. As hot water ran through her sweaty pelt, and small hands wrapped about her expanded frame, Milli Smith smiled, never having felt more complete in her life, than she did in that moment.\n\nAll the pieces of her life, finally, clicked into place.", "writing_bbcode_parsed": "21 10 121 K12
01:35
Nova Prospect; Republic core world
Industrial sector 3
Recreation centre, Bar, The Hole

"I just... feel, so empty, get me?" The big piebald dog groused, slumped on the plastic table, her many mechanical components whining in protest as they tried to process her inebriated brain waves.

It'd been half a year since her discharge, with full honours, but no matter what she did, Milli Smith couldn't help feel something was missing from her life since she'd left the military. Sure, she had a beautiful house, a loving husband, and a good pension she could fall back on. But something in her skull, her metal, just wouldn't settle down. Hence, why she was working in construction, why she kissed her adoring husband goodbye each day at five, and dragged herself back in at six.

Something, deep in her soul, itched, for more than just a stable, comfortable retirement. And with the best mechanised muscle the Republic could provide, her options were trimmed down to hard labour, or security contracts. She couldn't even go on to a teaching and advising role, thanks to one last parting gift from the service.

A complete neurosurgical bifurcation. Every operative underwent it, their brains split in half and stitched together by a computerised bridge. It allowed the peace-time personality to 'Switch off', while the rigorously trained and programmed combat personality took over. It was meant to make better soldiers, who didn't flinch or doubt, but also better veterans, who could go home without the horrors of what they'd done. Unfortunately for Milli, after one deployment had dragged on too long, the barrier between her two halves had begun to decay, and signs of personality bleed had started to manifest. Hence the discharge, and the inability to settle down. She wasn't just Milli Smith, soft, lovable, mutt, with a just as loving raccoon husband, she was also Big Momma, Specialist of the most elite unit the Republic had to field across its many worlds. At least in parts, most of her distinguished military career was still locked away behind the cybernetic wall separating her lobes, leaving her with an inexplicable sense of un-fulfilment, of not doing enough, of failing to be... something, that her original self didn't understand.

The bulky mule beside her, the only one who could keep up with her augmented innards, gave a disjointed blink. "Trouble at home? Yer man not givin' ya what ya need?"

The pause that followed put a stop to the attempted 'Guy talk', as Milli's floppy ears flattened, and her drunken expression turned sour.

"Tim's great... but..." but what? But they still didn't have a child after months of trying? That for some reason his loving, doting, bedroom behaviour wasn't cutting it anymore? That some part of her kept yearning for something rougher, and meaner, and harder? That no matter that she adored her Timothy, she could no longer feel satisfied with his company?

Sensing trouble, her drinking partner staggered to his hooves. "Welp, I gotta get goin'," the equine patted her shoulder, missing two out of three attempts, before slumping his way towards the door. "Don't go stayin' up too late Mil's. Tough times 'round here..."

***

01:40
Industrial sector 3

Drunk, tired, head in the clouds, when the black and white dog started her stagger home, she had no idea she was not alone. The 'Clonk' on the back of her head was delivered by a pair of no name toughs, two young gangsters barely out of their mother's homes, a length of pipe stuffed with sand all they needed to bring her down in her inebriated state.

"Got 'er, you sees that Fang? Nailed that bitch!" Yipped one young man to the other, both falling on their felled quarry, quickly and crudely starting to rifle pockets, and strip away sweaty overalls, revealing more fur, and the metal interwoven into it. Plush thighs were externally plated in steel, internally bolstered with plastics. The bushy tail fed into an articulated mechanical spine, which threaded all the way to the skull. Biceps were completely encased in armoured hide, and the inside of fingers bore the signs of skeletal replacements. But far less subtly, was the complete transformation of the woman's chest. What looked like two, large, plump, breasts while clothed, were nakedly matt black synthetics, bereft of fur, and sloshing with a warm, liquid weight, more like gel-pads than meat and fat. Each was tipped with a literal cap, like a drinks bottle waiting to be popped. They were a surreal sculpture of what a breast should be, lacking all organic consideration, a dispenser in erotic format.

"Shiit! She's chromed up the fucking fanny! You think she's a ganger?"

"Who gives a fuck?" The one calling himself 'Fang' closed the pointless debate, lightening their victim's wallet of her credit chit and identification, before pausing in his fingering of her goods. "Oh shit Dirk, we got a military bitch! Check this shit!"

They both took a moment to admire and whistle over Milli's Veteran's Society card, complete with it's small acronym for her rank of Specialist, and her position in the Rapid Response Commandos.

"Holy fuck!" Dirk whistled, "now I gotta fuck her. Hey, hey Fang, get a pic of me as I screw this bitch, I wanna show everyone what-" he stopped, one paw already dropping his fly as he turned to leer at his prey, only to find the large woman had vanished while they'd both been distracted. "Shit! She must'a crawled away, come on!"

Fang swore and kicked the wall in frustration, before joining his buddy in searching for their missing prey. "Fuck, she can't have got far, not after that whack we gave her. Probably just cryin' in a pud-"

The pair froze, an animal instinct gripping them. A cold, prickling tension, rising up their necks, standing their hairs, as a soft hum of power came to dominate the dark alley. Dirk, fighting with the urge to flee, to tuck tail and yelp his way home, dropped the plastic card he was holding, and willed himself to whirl around to face...

Nothing. Only the tight passage, with the industrial lot at the far end, and half-powered streetlamps which drew the eye away from the fine details. He opened his mouth to say something, to shout a defiant "Fuck off" at the ghosts in the night, but never got that far. The muted crunch of feet on filth alerted him, before he was snapped up by two arms that could have belonged to a construction 'mech. He had one second to scream, before the cybernetic body barrelled him clean through the thin wall of the warehouse behind him, and dumped him in a tangle of shattered crates. Fang was barely left time to ready their make-shift billy club, before the giant mass of augmented soldier came stomping up from the dust, and snatched him by the collar.

Big Momma, leered. Naked, her re-engineered frame unrolled from doughy, cuddly, soft, Milli Smith, into the military grade cyborg who had earned enough medals in her career to serve as an armoured jacket. Bigger, bolder, more brazen in every step. She was a different animal all together, and she was licking her lips.

Whirring, a mechanically enhanced arm grabbed the hem of the gutter-trash's trousers, and ripped them clean off, along with a thick clod of fur to boot. Fang's piteous yelp was ignored, as the torn polyester flew over his head, and the semi-taut sheath of his rapidly shrivelling manhood was exposed to the cold air.

"Oh no~," purred the metal and meat monster, who's own sex was warming to a perfect smoulder, "didn't the little boys want to fuck with the big dogs?"

"Hey! Let me go, you fucking bitch!" He bashed the crude cudgel against her a few times, but every time came with a muted 'Clank' of metal on padded metal, and each strike grew weaker than the last. The cyborg's mechanically enhanced bulk shifted, lowering the squirming male to the ground, as it sat itself down on his chest, crushing air out of his purely organic lungs.

"Not a chance. You wanted to fuck an army bitch? Well now this bitch is going to fuck, you." Her fingers closed tighter, shutting the youth's windpipe, asphyxiating him while his useless fingers clawed and scrapped at the steel of her body, and the unflinching iron of her will. And just as she knew it would, the fear, the desperation, the oxygen deprivation, gave rise to exactly what Big Momma wanted.

Servos purred as her thighs lifted, her surgically enhanced sex flooded her Heads Up Display with confirmations, as the terrified erection of the young man slid along her lips, caught in her crevice, and slotted his rocket right at the entrance of her chamber, right on target.

"Buckle up, boy," she growled, "cause this is what you asked for." And without another word, the monster descended. No, she impacted, with a meteor strike of her pelvis to his, he was slammed into the concrete floor beneath him, and pinned like a butterfly on a board. At least one bone fractured at that exact moment, but if Big Momma cared, she didn't show it, simply rising, and falling again, and again. Mechanical whines, biological mewls, and the slap, and crack, of violent sex, filled the cavernous space, echoing back and forth, as the resurgent personality of Big Momma, Sexual Relief Specialist, of the Delta squad Rapid Response Commandos, pounded her victim into submission.

His cock was nothing to write home about, but it fit well enough. It's canine nature made it bulge where she liked, swell in her lips, stretch just the smidge she needed. In return, her computer controlled pussy contracted just below the knot, her walls constricted to match his thickness, and programming that had been locked away for months came into action to milk that shaft for all it was worth.

"Come on, big boy, come on, spill it all," she growled and moaned, grinding down on his pinned hips, clapping and crashing as she fucked him like a runaway train. "You asked for this, you wanted to rape a woman so bad, but can't take it when she rapes you back? Don't fight it, give it to me!"

A gasp, a shudder, and a whimper escaped the young man as he felt his erection betraying him, rushing towards climax at an alarming rate, desperate to breed one last time before the looming black and white death above him ended his short existence. It was too much, and with a broken cry, he surrendered, spurting a weak tribute into the Amazonian cunt, before collapsing in a wretched heap.

Big Momma, crooned, as internal chemical sensors confirmed his climax, rewarding her with simulated pleasure, even if ultimately it was no-where near the satisfying penetration her armoured core demanded. She let him breathe, let him gasp a moment, before her mechanical walls, clenched, and strangled life back into his flagging prick.

"Nuh-uh," she tutted and tsk'ed, eyes glowing in the dark as readouts filled her display, "I'm not done with you yet..." Before she began all over again. His pelvis was shattered, his testicles near burst from the battering, but she didn't stop until she'd milked every last dreg from him. And by the time he gave up the ghost, and passed into a coma, it was just in time for a groggy voice to emerge from the tangled heap of crates where she'd left it.

Big Momma let go of her first dance partner, a string of white dripping from her cleft, as she moved on for seconds.

***

22 10 121 K12
05:00
Residential bloc D21
Poppy Meadows
Unit A

Milli, bleary-eyed, dragged herself from bed, carefully unwrapping the small body of her husband from about herself first, and staggered to the bathroom.

She felt oddly energised, despite the hang-over, and the usual tiredness of a good day's hard work. It was like a light had flicked on in her brain, something buried coming back up for air. She showered, brushed her teeth, noted the redness in her eyes from not enough hydration, and reached for the medicine draw for a quick cure-all to-

Bzzzt

Milli blinked. She was staring at the bathroom mirror. Her face was marked in heavy dark make-up, mascara blacking out the white patterning about the eyes and chin, war-paint. Her tongue hung out the side in cheeky expression, her eyes were devilish. She mouthed, and the words licked at her awareness. "Nice to meet you, Milli."

Bzzzt

She blinked again, and it was gone. She towelled her face, got dressed for work, and headed down to make herself a breakfast, not noticing the stains she'd left at the edge of the basin, and on the musky towel.

***

23 10 121 K12
22:05

"... Both men are receiving emergency care at the Francisca memorial hospital. Police are investigating, but a spokesman has suggested the attack may have been gang motivated. Only time will tell if they will ever wake again."

Small paws worked dextrously to distract the large woman from the news projection, a loving kiss coming behind her ears, one after the other. "Come to bed, honey, switch off and let me love you some more."

Timothy Smith circled his arms about his much larger wife, massaging every spot he'd learned over years of romantic moments to ease the big mutt back into his compact frame. It didn't matter if he was stroking meat, or metal, or plastic, the unaugmented raccoon lavished every piece of his partner with affection. Something that Milli could never resist.

"Just catching up," she blinked away the news feed, letting her vision return to the purely material, just as her body began to ascend to the heavens of a doting husband. "Sorry sweetie, I guess I've just been so busy lately, and-"

He silenced her with a finger on her lips, before his teeth started nibbling away at her ruff, the bandit faced man churring as he worked her over onto her back, mounting her with nothing but adoration in his pointy features. He kissed her lips, her cheek, her neck, working his way down from collar, to chest, to rubbery nipple, and then lower still.

Milli moaned, as a warm tongue hit the release valve of her clit, and made her come undone for her chosen mate. She lay back, spread open and vulnerable, while his bristly furred face rubbed her thighs, and his foreplay warmed and primed her body for more.

"Oh Tim, Tim," she moaned, feeling that pure stimulation of the cunnilingus, that short-cut to pleasure, ready her and drown out any lingering concerns from her day. "Oh, Momma likes that, yes~."

Chuckling, dark eyes twinkling, the smaller man withdrew, wiping slick from his whiskers as he grinned down at the love of his life. "What say we really make you a mother tonight?" He half whispered, half begged, thin rod already hard and naked on the covers. "I know we've talked, and tried, but, Milli... this time, I really feel it. So... shall we?"

Her heart skipped, her breath caught, her fingers wrapped about the slight flare of his narrow cock-head, rubbing it up and down the dark, juicy delta of her spade. "Oh, Tim, yes, please. Make me a moth-"

Bzzzt

She felt paws desperately slapping at her hips, her vision swimming, as she came back to the present, blinking at the small figure squeezed between her scissoring thighs. He was squashed deep into the bed, her fingers wrapped about his slender neck, her pelvis still working against him in a mechanical rhythm, shaking the whole frame with each slam of her waist. His eyes were bulging, his breath ragged, his strikes weak, as he looked up pleadingly at her.

With a start, Milli released her husband, sitting back on her haunches and blinking in surprise. "Tim! Oh my god, are you okay? I'm so sorry, I must have..." She trailed off, simply horrified as her brain clicked back on.

Coughing, wheezing, Tim tried his best to wave it all off. "Wow, Milli, I didn't know you wanted it rough." He coughed again, clearing his throat, while the larger woman shuddered and blinked away tears. "Guess I need to, step it up a little more for you, huh?"

Her face burned with shame, and she was quick to reach for her husband and smother him in kisses, rolling back over into her usual place with him in her arms. Everything was on fire, her head and heart not reconciling with what she could see and feel. It was like she'd just woken from a bad dream, which still clung to her memory with the tenacity of a burr. And most sickeningly of all, she was aware that her loins were still wet, and unsatisfied.

***

29 11 121 K12
05:02

She threw more water over her face, scrubbing hard, pressing palms to her eyes till they began to short and fuzz in kaleidoscopes of colour. Another day finding strange scents on her clothes, another night with gaps in her memory, she was beginning to unravel.

Bzzzt

She looked up at the mirror, gasping, to see 'Her' staring back. Not her, herself, the other one, who glared with daggers in her eyes.

"Stop getting in my way, Milli!"

Bzzzt

The mirror was cracked, Milli's breath was short and ragged, as she bent over the sink, and emptied her stomach.

***

2 12 121 K12
19:30

"And in other news, the spree of sexual assaults continues. The victims, mostly male, are often found physical abused, and unconscious, clinging to life after what can only be called, an animalistic attack. Some say it's gang related, others suggest it's a sexual serial predator, targeting anyone who enjoys the city night-life. But with no leads after months of investigating, the authorities can only recommend that citizens avoid venturing out alone after hours, especially if you are in the at risk groups."

Timothy Smith switched off the broadcast, sitting sullenly on the sofa as he listened to his beloved upstairs, dressing herself up for a night out with her colleagues. It'd been happening more and more, and her clothes had gone from work overalls, to casual wear, to outfits he hadn't seen her in their entire lives together. Provocative and skimpy, along with vibrant make-up that seemed designed to paint a bullseye on herself.

She'd come back in the early hours of the morning, shower before he could even see her, purring and humming in the satisfied way she once had from their date nights together. And the worst part was, the moment he'd ask, question, or even try to reach out, it'd be the same old Milli, the woman he'd courted, dated, wedded, years ago. There was always an excuses, and always he felt like he was in the wrong for pursuing her about it.

So when she bounced down the stairs, tail swishing, in a thigh length purple vinyl dress, her lips a bright crimson, all he could do was suggest perhaps, with the attacker on the loose, she should stay at home that night, with him.

"Aww, that's so sweet of you dear~," Big Momma purred, planting a sloppy kiss on Milli's husband, "but don't you fret, cutie. There's nothing out there I can't handle." And with that, she was out of the house, leaving him staring sullenly at the floor, a shiver running through his fur.

He'd just choked back a sob when the doorbell rang, filling him with hope that it was her, that she had forgotten something and come back to him. Timothy Smith pounced on the door handle and flung it wide, looking up at... A large black wolf, in military dress.

"Mr Smith, you likely don't remember me," the large, armoured man rumbled, stepping inside without invitation and dominating the doorway.

The raccoon swallowed, "You were Milli's commanding officer. I uh, sorry, I don't think I got your name."

"Captain Alistair "Choppers" McLean, and I'm here to talk to you about your wife..."

***

Nova Prospect; Republic core world
Industrial sector 6
Recreation centre, Bar, The Pound
21:02

She swirled the drink in her most seductive way, feeling every eye tracking the lazy motion of her finger within the rim, the tinkling of the metal straw seemingly louder than the Deadzone match on screen. The dress was hiked about one thigh, blatantly advertising her cybernetics to the clientele of the tacky, beer stained, bar.

Big Momma bated her trap, making an internal bet on which one of the drooling men would be her playmate for the evening. Would it be the crocodile with the chrome-teeth? Or maybe the Ox with the crude hand replacements? Perhaps it'd be the rough looking husky, with the bionic eye and tribal electro-tattoos on his bare chest. They all looked like they could go a few rounds, and seemed eager enough to pounce her.

"You in'errested in summat sweetheart?" The gruff barkeep huffed, a ram with steel implants to replace his horns. "Or are ya just here ta shake yer ass fer free?"

"Hmm," she sipped the overly watered cocktail a moment, smirking as she felt the snare tighten. "No, I'm just waiting for a friend. But it looks like they're not coming." The drink clinked dramatically as she set it down, rolling her legs in a wide turn as she got to her paws, making for the door, wondering which of them would be the one that'd follow her outside, into the dark ally, expecting to-

A large hand caught her by the bicep, just as the sheep behind the bar pushed a button, turning the sign from open to closed, with a ‘Clunk’ of remote locks.

"We'll be yer friends, if yer friendly with us," the crocodile leered, yellow eyes eating her up from tail to tips. The whole bar turned, and shared that hungry look. "We know what yer really want'n, missy."

The augmented woman, purred. Big momma let those big, clawed, hands, pull her back towards the bar, dress straps somehow getting shaken loose, the zipper falling to reveal more of her synthetic skin, the scaly palm finding a greedy hold on her artificial milk bags and mauling them viciously. She giggled and moaned, not fighting in the least as another came about to grab her by the chin, and bring her face up to look them in the eye.

"That's a sweet girl, you gonna be good to us? Or we gotta get, rough?" The husky growled, red, robotic eye, stripping her where she reclined, his free paw getting inside his pants, pulling them down to show a stud riddled sheath, and ring studded cock.

Big Momma nipped his thumb with a playful smirk, her hands working to speed it all along, the dress falling to her waist, and her rump finding the stool again so she could spread her thighs nice and wide. "Rough's good with me, handsome. Seems I've got all the company I need~."

"Atta girl," crocodile whispered, tongue dragging up her ear, as his claws caught on the caps of her nipple augments. "That why yer get yerself all done up, to take it rough?"

"Oh you have no idea," tired of play, she scissored her thighs to bring her first partner slamming into her crotch. With no panties, and his sheath already spread open for his red rocket, they met with a slap, and squelch, where the rod dragged up an eager canine snatch. Her programming kicked into gear, ready to harvest, to accept his seed, and relieve all the violent tension inherent in post organic individuals. "Fuck me, fuck me like you haven't fucked in years!"

The husky growled, planting his toes on the floor as he pushed his studded penis deeper into the woman's wet cavern, the metal ring at the head sending an electric chill up her mechanical spine, as neurons of machine and meat both rewarded the bitch for getting something filling inside her.

Meanwhile her fingers dug into the reptile's belt buckle, dragging him in so a lean was all she needed for her other lips to find his scaly slit, and the slimy muscle that was already soaking his briefs in thrilled expectation. She didn't need to bother with warming his cold blood, because the moment her tongue took a lap at the long, slithery length, it gave her a taste of salty expectation. Her maw closed as tight as her cunt, and both sets of lips sucked like hydraulics on the borrowed shafts.

Meat and metal moaned. When the dog slammed his riddled cock in, the crocodile came down, compressing plush curves, as red and pink vanished inside white and black. Each stud on the Husky's rod was an electrode, delivering a miniscule spark to the mutt's sensitive flesh, making her gush as muscles contracted, and 'Mph's' and 'Mrr's' escaped around the tapered spire in her maw. Not that the scaly man didn't have his own tricks, the crocodile cock was practically prehensile, as it flexed and curled, tickling sinuses and making the woman snort for breath on each brief break between sucks.

"Wohoo! Fucking slut's hungry!" Hooted the ox from where he sat at the bar, palming himself through his overalls, "Ye gonna give her some puppies, boy? Gonna give her that famous knot you dogs always boastin' about?"

"What you think, bitch?" The ruby eyed husky snarled at the gagged woman, hips slamming to a wet chorus, dragging her off her salty snack with a wet pop. "You want the knot?"

"Yes," Big Momma begged, mouth dripping crocodile cum.

"Want some pups?"

Bzzzt

"Not yours," Milli Smith growled, teeth bared and threatening.

"Too bad!" Both the ram and ox grabbed an arm, and dragged her over onto the bar-top, glasses and bottles flying, her skull knocking on a beer tap. "We're gonna have our fun with ya!"

Bzzzt

"No need to get nasty, boys, just fuck me how you want me, I can take it," Big Momma moaned, fighting down the painful buzz inside her skull, battling the intruder in her life, the other voice that refused to let her have her fun.

Bzzzt

"I'm gonna murder every last one of you if you dare try to-"

Bzzzt

"Don't think, just fuck. Give me that-"

Bzzzt

Milli Smith. Big Momma. Screamed, as their head creaked in pain, their brain sparked and boiled, and her computerised neural bridge did the only thing it could think to make the hurt go away. Acquire targets.

Titanium reinforced fingers closed about a scraggly beard, armour-plated thighs squeezed with inexorable pressure about a diaphragm, as the doughy she-dog underwent a dramatic transformation, and soon the only sounds inside the bar, were of extreme sexual violence.

***

21:58

All was quiet inside The Pound. Damaged lights flickered, broken bottles oozed, and bodies only drew shallow breaths, as the naked, shocked, and withdrawn cyborg, stood at the centre of it all, and tried to put the pieces of her psyche back into place. None of it fit. It was an impossible jumble. Milli would never cheat on her husband. Big Momma would never break someone for getting a little rough. She should have been at home. She should be guzzling a cock. She needed a warm hug. She needed to be brewing up a kid for the Corps. They were-

"Mrs Smith, BM. It's Captain Choppers, you mind if I come in?"

"Wha?" She blinked, a discarded chair leg falling from her paw, and a rivulet of mixed spunk dripping down her thigh. Slowly the gears started turning, the fractured mirror shifting as Big Momma heard the voice of her superior officer. "Y-you c-cum to p-put me down, Cap?"

There was a pause, a shuffling outside the door.

"I'm just here to talk, BM. Is Milli in there with you?"

Dragging her eyes around the bar, the damaged soldier counted her options, weighed her odds, ignoring the pang in her chest following the mention of her other half. "D-don't talk about that, bitch. This wouldn't be happening if she just, stayed out of my way!"

"You know it's her body too, BM. I'm going to come in, and we can talk this through, no-one else needs to get hurt." All he got was silence, and that put his well-honed hackles on edge. The door slid open, the basic magnetic lock protesting briefly before surrendering to augmented muscle.

Inside was a shattered tableau of violence. Various men, all in different states of nakedness, all crumbled and broken, lay scattered about the room. One thrown over the pool table, another propped against the bar with his head on the ground, legs in the air, a third could have just been sleeping, if it wasn’t for the fluids leaking into the couch. But there was no sign of his former Sexual Relief Specialist, and team heavy hitter.

"Not even going to offer me a drink, BM? Catch up on old times?" His eyes spotted a hint of movement, the door to the bathrooms shaking ever so slightly. "You know it's the personality bleed, you know you were meant to be sleeping, in retirement. It's only going to get worse unless it’s fixed."

He edged his way along the wall, one hand resting on his holstered side-arm, the other gingerly reaching for the narrow crack between frame and door. He held his breath, ears pricking, listening for anything to give away his rogue commando. But he heard nothing. It was only when his fingers flicked it wider, that he saw the thread tied around the handle.

"Clever bitch..."

Big Momma burst from her hiding place behind the bar, barrelling into her ex-commander with enough force to smash him bodily through the bathroom wall, and ride his skidding torso to a stop. Her knees dug painfully into the small of his back, as she wrapped a mechanically laced hand about his scruff, pinning him firmly to the ground.

"That's what you get for fucking me over, Captain," she growled, her voice slurring between her seductive drawl, and pained anger. "Sleeping? Try six months living inside the head of the most boring bitch on the planet! Screaming at her, unable to do anything but watch! Retirement my cunt! Try hell!"

The black wolf didn't bother with words, slamming both his fists into the floors with all his strength, sending them both rocketing up, and back through the hole in the wall. If his spine wasn't mostly metal, it would have snapped from the forces involved, instead it sent the pinto dog stumbling off of him, and gave him the breathing space to square up and ready himself for the brawl he knew was coming.

She lunged, throwing a sharp jab that he took on the forearm, before ducking under a kick, and driving his elbow into her belly with a satisfying thud of muscle.

"You're getting sloppy BM, let's fix that!" He snarled, teeth bared, and lunged for a grab, moving under her guard. Only to get a knee in his back for his trouble, as she pivoted around and reversed the grip, sending him flying for the second time, her mass and particular upgrades giving her the edge in a grapple.

"Not gonna happen, Sir," she spat back, staying clear as he sprung upright with the whine of servos and the protest of alloy. "I'm not letting you put me back in a cage, not when I'm just starting to have fun!" She swept forward, and with a snap of air, tackled him through the remains of the pool table, splintering the wooden frame, sending its previous occupant tumbling, before she grabbed him in a dirty hold she was thoroughly trained in. "Speaking of fun, how about a fuck, for old times sake?"

Deftly she'd already got his trousers down, snatching hard about his sheath and balls, as the programming of the Corps came to her in full. Big Momma had been made for the purpose of fucking and loving heavily armoured, and needful, cyborgs, whom full flesh partners could never handle. Captain Choppers was exactly the enemy she'd been built to neutralise.

He knew it too, and did nothing to stop her unsheathing his pride as he lay there in the bed of kindling, only gritting his teeth as he felt an expert grinding his balls in her palm, and straddling him like a maestro at their instrument. In fact, he played along, willing his knotted prick to come out from hiding, as her slathering and cum stained crotch began to grind up and down his front, squelching and slipping with obscene gusto.

"That's right, captain, give me what I want," she panted, trying to keep the feral rage in check as she squeezed and pumped, head zinging with the excitement of getting a male she knew could give her exactly what she needed. A strong male, a powerful male, with virile balls, and a body that could fuck her to exhaustion before it snapped. Even if a small voice screamed, and howled, and made her hate the moment, she, wanted, that, cock.

"Sure, bitch," and in the moment of her triumph, Choppers grabbed her by the hips, deflected her angle, and shoved. Not in her gushing spade, but the puckered star behind it. "I'll give you exactly what you want." And with one crack, he'd split her open, ribbed walls clenching automatically, but not stopping him, encouraging him to use her like the sex machine she was designed to be.

Big Momma, gasped, feeling a worthy penetration, even if it was in the wrong hole. She grunted, rolled, but it was no use, she couldn't reach back and grab him without compromising the hold, and besides, sex was sex, regardless of the parts. So, she bucked, she squeezed, she let her programming take over to milk him with every muscle, rewarding her for each powerful thrust she absorbed. The fact that it was someone from her team, her squad, her people, broke down much of her resistance, and let neurons soak in the pleasure of being used by such a fat, hefty, knotted, dick.

She barely noticed his paws climbing her body, his thighs bunching, as he rose to a lotus pose with her pinned to his shaft. So long as he kept pistoning into her, she was willing to let him snuggle in closer. So long as he kept stretching her clenching tunnel, she didn't mind if he got a grip on her. She was still on top, she still her her paws about his neck.

"Oh fuck Cap, fuck Sir, you miss this bitch? You regret, canning me?" She gasped, each wet smack making her plush arse ripple, her toned tummy bulging with his girth. "Tired of fucking, Ginger, or you got some new, scrawny, bitch, to bury your bone in?"

"That's not how it was BM," he grunted, eyes looking elsewhere from hers, holding back, searching, as his own orgasm began to build. "You know I had no choice. You're sick, and need help."

She laughed, willingly bouncing along with him, knowing from years of experience how close he already was. She felt every vein, knew them intimately, as they burned with all the need of a frustrated super-sophont, desperate for a mate that could keep up, no, outpace them. "Oh you're helping fine, Cap, I can feel it. Big, throbbing, meaty, cock like yours, built for a hole like mine, to squeeze it, just how it likes. You need to finish in me so hard, even if you won't give me a pup, dirty dog you are."

Gritting his teeth, unable to deny what the madwoman was saying, he took one of two options before him, and followed through on his plan. Groaning in protest, his machine enhanced legs tensed, and with a herculean effort, he hefted both himself, and the surprised bulk of Milli Smith and Big Momma, up to a standing fuck. Still buried to the knot in her arse, a knot that swiftly swelled with his impending ejaculation, preventing all escape.

"Didn't say, I'd be the one, to help you," he grunted, spinning her about with the thick bulb now firmly lodged in the colon, her own programming preventing her from releasing the satisfying lump till it was done. "I know exactly what you need, and just who's gonna, give it, to you!". Now pinned, stretched to a constant mild euphoria, he held her in a full-nelson, not bothering to hide his relieved shudders while his balls painted her guts white with the seed she so desperately sought.

"D-don't get, cocky, Captain," the mutt moaned, unable to help herself as computerised and biological sensors rewarded her with pleasure at finally being filled by someone who could keep up. "You've got, no idea, what I need."

"Oh don't kid yourself lady," the big man sighed, and whistled, trying hard to keep his footing as the best bitch he'd ever had synched her anus with mathematical precision, better than any succubus could ever dream. "I've been, where you are. I know, exactly, what you three, need!"

The front door swung back into view, and before either Big Momma, or Milli Smith, could say a word about the rough treatment they were receiving, their eyes caught, and latched, on the fourth player in everything that was transpiring. Shorter, with wide thighs, a ring tail, patterns of grey and black, bright pink scars surrounding newly mounted mechanical parts that circled his hips, legs, shoulders and neck, the newcomer made both halves of the grunting woman freeze in icy dread.

"H-hi Milli," The freshly minted, cybernetic raccoon, Timothy Smith, gave a shy wave, standing there naked before his wife, and her former boss, who was currently buried to the nuts in her rump. "Oh, and, um, hi, other Milli, I don't think we really met, last time."

Again, things snapped within the large dog. The sight of her lover, her husband, the person she said was the only one for her, shattered the glass on Milli's prison, and let her rise to the fore, jostling with her alter-ego.

"Honey this isn't what it looks like!" Milli shouted.

"Captain's just fucking us proper~," Big Momma crooned.

"I'm really, so, sorry, sweetie," the loving wife pleaded.

"You just can't satisfy me like he can~," the soldier moaned.

Timothy Smith visibly wilted under the barbs of Big Momma, but every time his Milli apologised, or professed her love, he became twice as resolved. With the whir of artificial joints being overworked by someone not yet adapted to them, the naked man advanced upon his spitted partner. He clanked where the commando's purred, stomped where they would have glided. But even if discomfort and pain were evident throughout his flesh, he came to stand before her, and did his level best to ignore the other man enjoying her body.

"Milli, Ms Big Momma, I'm sorry I didn't do anything to help you both," he started, a faint tremor in his voice, but clear enough to cut through the frantic bickering going on in his wife's head. "But, I'm going to help you now, and prove to you both I have what it takes to be your husband."

A sarcastic response died, strangled in the throat by the other half of the two minds in one body, only for both sides to be silenced as Tim showed them that he was now the one packing the big guns. His sheath bulged on direct command, a neural interface sending signals that had the meat inside engorge, and spill, rapidly inflating to a terrifying mass that went from crotch to chest. Some of it was still his original maleness, a slender pink Procyon penis, but only at the head. The rest was bolstered with burgeoning synthetic muscle, barely contained in a sleek, black blend of latex and reinforced plastics, often reserved for heavy-duty machinery. It was not the dick of a raccoon, nor any other beast, it was an industrial tool, ready to pump and pound into a reciprocating socket.

"Uh," Timothy swallowed, trying to ignore the dizziness caused by the sudden change in blood-flow and the new centre of balance, "you both want this? You, want me to... make love, I mean, f-fuck you both silly?" He kept coming, one clumsy footstep at a time, till the massive organ slapped, dry and hot, down across her front, running from her breast, down to her well lubricated quim. It thrummed with an electric pulse, half natural, half mechanical, and in the mind of the battered, burnt out, SRS unit, it flipped every switch.

Both Milli and Big Momma looked at the ramrod before them, stared up and down at it, each knowing exactly what they wanted to do with it.

"Please, Tim," Bzzzt. "Pound my bitch hole raw~." Bzzzt. "Take me, baby, please, I need you!" Bzzzt. "I need that fat cock deep inside me now~."

Not one to argue with his wife, the small man back peddled enough to get the head down and into the right slot, doing his best to ignore the pair of balls he could see on the other side of the big woman. She cooed, in a two-tone duet, and he thrust. It was awkward, his new equipment not yet having the same muscle memory his regular self would have had. But once the tip breached, and his new senses told him he was on target, he was quick to grab the she-dog by her thighs, and lean in the rest of the way.

The stretch was perfect, the patchwork cock just right to give the specialist the stimulation she was aching for. She could have sworn she was seeing stars, or maybe just electrical arcs, as neurons fired in synchronicity, and the damaged bridge unit shorted in a feedback loop of mutual pleasure.

Behind her, her former captain chuckled in her ear, doing his best to hold her weight and weather the force of the impact. "You see, BM. I've been right where you are. Two minds, out of synch. All you need, is to both focus, on what it is you both want." He felt a shudder in her sphincter and grinned his way through a fresh erection in her bowels, "you both want him, don't you? You want that man, and his cock, and his-"

"Mr Choppers, sir," Tim Smith cut him off, looking up at Milli's shocked expression, ignoring him pointedly, "could you shut up please and let me make love to my wife?"

The wolf blinked, stunned, before giving a shrug and letting the raccoon take the spotlight. With his arms about her hips, his pelvis against hers, the raccoon wore the face of a man determined to win the heart of the one they loved. No matter what trouble she was in, difficulties they’d face, he was going to be the one to help her through.

Comfortably in now, lubricated with the dog's juices, and others', Tim drew his hips back, and threw them forward, again, and then again, in a rapidly building rhythm. Cybernetic flesh, working from pre-programmed commands, moved his spine and thighs for him, leaving him free to hold, pet, grasp, and love this woman in his arms. Fingers gripped, and squeezed at armoured thighs, scrapped up to a fluff covered waist, wrapped about her back and tail, and drew her in so his snout could press firm between her synthetic breasts.

"I love you, Melissa Smith, I love you when you're soft and gentle. And I love you when you're big and dangerous. I know you've been, doing things, but right now, I'm just glad to have the both of you, here, with me. That's all that matters."

"Aw, honey," the gentle giant murmured, her half of her brain melting and refocusing, struggling to keep the conversation straight, and not just drool from the feeling of her innards being rearranged by the weaponised sex-toy pummelling her walls, giving them a work-out that tested them to the limits. "Tim, please, take me, love, just, just," she groaned, her whole frame vibrating, her toes curling. She couldn't say any more.

Her words choked, dying in her throat, as a shockingly powerful spasm erupted from her quivering pussy. And as she passed out into bliss, Big Momma stepped in to take her share.

"Good boy, Timmy," her voice rumbled, guttural, growling, a sound that set the smaller man's fur on end. Her legs wrapped about his midsection, drawing him in till her back was arched, and he was practically sitting on the knot in her back-passage. "Always knew you must be a kinky little freak to get with a girl like me. A bit, ahem, big, now, ain'tcha? Well, now, I'm giving you the opportunity, to live. Your. Filthiest. Dream. Ride, me, baby, and give me your best shot~."

"Oh, wow, y-you, sure are, s-something," he shivered, eyes alight with the sense of danger, while muscular arms grabbed him firm about the neck, and squeezed. His new reinforced plates protested, his breath getting short, but they held, and lent desperation to the hard fucking he was giving the ex-commando. "I've always, thought it was, sexy, how big, and strong, and deadly, you could be," he gasped, loins slamming home with a slopping sound and a machine like precision. "But, I didn't, ah, didn't guess, it'd be this much, this intense!"

"Intense, ahh, hmhm," his lover's other half licked her chops, grinning a razor-like smile as she squeezed him tight, and made his vision blur. "That's cause, honey, you ain't been fucking me hard enough. Come on, if you want to win me over, you're gonna have to show, Ahh~, me. That you're worth it."

"Well, then, I'll have, have to, give it, all, I've, got!" Sweat pouring from his brow, his back and shoulders protesting, he did just that. The implanted heads-up in his retina gave him the green light, eyes glowing briefly as it winked, and then his pelvis went into overdrive. The cyborg cock bulked, sinews bulging inside her pillowy flesh, as her outer lips struggled to adjust in time to match, even with her own mechanical alterations. But that wasn't the best of it. Before she could give some snide remark, or filthy encouragement, the small man moved back, and then rammed in to the hilt. Not a gentle acceleration, it was like a pneumatic drill, rapid and unrelenting, swiftly sending ropes of arousal flying with the force of his impacts.

"Y-yeah, yeah, th-that's, good, good boy, that's," her composure slipped, his hands finding a new grip about her ribs, as his mouth clamped fast on her left teat. A dextrous tongue flicked the latch on the cover off, and then invaded the raw nerves of the storage tank behind, tongue-fucking her breast in a hunt for milk, or just her over-stimulation. Either way, the result was a keening moan and an orgasm tearing its way up the Amazonian female's nethers.

"Ahha, ahaha," the battle-bred woman trembled, clinging, her inner passages clutching her paramour's pole, fluttering as it did all it could to take his pleasure, to meet his demands. She could hear him squeaking, fighting, feel him jerking, as he suffered under the strain of his new parts, fresh scars tearing, as his rushed construction took a toll. Something deep inside, unlocked with her climax, her head starting to clear, a sense of need, and... and genuine care, unfolding in her, just as her gushing release did.

"Oh, oh fuck, oh fuck me little man. You, you're doing, doing good," she hissed and gasped, shaking her head, feeling content in a way that no big-dicked, drunken arsehole, or mechanical super-soldier had ever made her feel before. It was real, and true, and the kind of satisfaction that her addled programming had never expected. "B-but you know what would m-make me, us, r-really happy right now, Tim?"

He groaned, sweat, and spasms rocking him, his jaw locked in a grimace as he ignored pain, and fought his own pleasure, engorged nuts groaning and creaking with a desperate desire to be done and shoot, so he could rest his aching bones. He'd never had sex like this before, never felt his wife squeeze him like that, wring his prick so hard, a prick that now was all the way at the gates of her womb, and straining to breach even that.

"Wh-what is it, M-Milli, Ma'am, tell, me, whatever, you need," he panted, a whimper following his every syllable.

Two powerful paws came up, gripping him tenderly about the neck, the chin, eyes locking as a gentle calm rocked the centre of her whirlwind of an orgasm. "Give me that baby you've been promising me, sugar~," she whispered, leaning forward, her lips parted, her tongue hanging long.

It was an invitation he could not refuse, the raccoon pressed, kissed, and pushed his hyper-sized, throbbing, bloated, cock, the rest of the way in. As it breached the cervix, and plunged to the back, his entire body shuddered, and his shaft, and testicles, tightened, and went off like a gun. He shot his payload in a rapid spray, more than he'd ever done before, a white tide that coated the cybernetic womb in virile genetic data, enough that it broke the mental block between left and right in Milli's mind, and triggered her reproductive protocols. Milli 'Big Momma' Smith, was going to live up to her call sign, and bulge with a babe once more, his babe, her lover's, her husband's.

“I’ve got, one last present for you, dear,” he panted, bliss filling his head, as his newly mounted HUD informed him her parting ‘Retirement gift’ from the military was ready. He initiated it, and the perfectly modelled synthetic knot, inflated on command.

It was an exact fit for her maximum capacity, and the result was explosive. The big mutt howled, like she never had before, as every centimetre of her vestibule was stretched. Every nerve, real and artificial, sparked as one. Left brain, and right brain, bridged. Newly grown synapses, built from experiences, healed overtop of their damaged computer counterpart, and made her one again. Or two, as her uncapped nipple started leaking sugary nectar, a sign her body had started the count-down to her first child with the man she loved.

"I love you, Milli," the happy husband sighed, bringing her face in till their foreheads touched, "every bit of you. Forever and always."

"You too, hon," she whispered back, nuzzling him in turn, noses rubbing together. "Thank you for saving me from myself."

A cough sounded, and a gruff growl from the forgotten captain behind them. "That was very moving," he grunted, now finally flaccid, "but if you're both done, I'm about to drop you on your arses."

***

Ten minutes after, the captain left through the front door, having told the couple that an unmarked car was waiting for them out the back when they were finished. He sighed heavily, and took a drag of an electro-stim stick, eyes a little glassy in the night air.

"Need me to take the shot?" Came a cold voice over his squad-net communications, bringing him back to the moment, and the dark figures lurking nearby in full body armour.

"Negative, Ginger, stand down. We're green."

The feline went silent, and the Commandos of Delta squad slowly fell in line with their captain, as they climbed into the back of a waiting van, and vanished into the night.

***

21 10 125 K12
10:29
Nova Prospect; Republic core world
Republic Joint Operations Base: Hawthorne
Gymnasium 5

"Shake a leg, ladies! Use that weight! You want to be commando's or what?" Milli growled, pacing up and down the line of sweating recruits, all struggling and panting against the weight of their combat load. "Don't be scared to lift that baby up and swing! The Corps didn't build those bellies to break, so roll those hips and throw!"

Despite her shouting, Training Officer Smith smiled as she watched the young women of her class learn the same lessons she had. Now with the full memories of her time as a soldier, the world had opened up to her. The Army had approached her with an offer, a return to reserve service, and most importantly, a fulfilling career raising the future generations that would keep the Republic safe.

A buzzer sounded, and a relieved set of sighs and pants came from her class of SRS candidates, as the morning work-out ended. With a terse throw of her head, she gave them leave to shower, and watched them each file out, faux pregnancies bouncing as they fled to get their first meal of the day.

The doors swung open one more time, and a small man handed her her towel, and lunch box.

"Do you really have to work them so hard, sweetie?" He asked, concern touching his voice. "Some of those girls looked like they could barely walk."

She chuckled, wiping her sweaty brow, and reaching down to kiss Tim on the scalp. "Nothing they can't survive, honey. And what did I say about sweet-talk on base?" She tapped him lightly on the nose, making him blink and shake his head. "No mushy stuff till I'm off shift," she winked, striding off towards the officer's showers. "Besides, some of them need the barking. Wouldn't have survived training if someone hadn't pushed me hard enough."

Timothy Smith watched as his army mutt of a wife, and her very real belly, strode away from him, unable to keep his eyes off her rolling figure. The last three years had been very good for them, and their family. Three years, three puppies in, and still they were practically joined at the 'Ahem' hip, when they could find the time.

"Well," her cry jolted him back to reality, "isn't my personal SRS husband going to join his commanding officer for a hot, foamy, rub-down?" She wagged her tail suggestively, leaning on the door frame just so, to reveal all her curves.

She watched with a smile, as her doting lover jumped to attention, snapping an exaggerated salute. As hot water ran through her sweaty pelt, and small hands wrapped about her expanded frame, Milli Smith smiled, never having felt more complete in her life, than she did in that moment.

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