#eroticfiction #nanotechnology #bodymodification #genitalgrowth #hypertrophia #hermaphrodite #masturbation #tentacleplay
Nanoplumped,
An erotic story by Xial A. Lunashine

Chunk 1: init();

“Okay, miss. The nanobiotic nodules are installed, the nanobots have been injected, and the controller implant reports that all systems are nominal. We will unclamp your restraints in three minutes once synchronization reports a green.”
 
In a room with white walls and no visible seams, the body of a vixen rests upon a table. The naked form is clamped by wrists, ankles, and waist to a stainless steel surface, her blue and cream fur a drastic contrast in tone compared to the rest of the room. Her fingers flex and curl slowly as she lay there with her eyes closed, her brow furrowed as if she were concentrating. 
 
As the seconds tick by, each one seemingly counted by her moving fingers, the table tilts to raise her upper body. After sixty seconds, she is in a nearly upright position, its angle prompting her to take a deeper breath as the weight of her breasts shift toward her feet and all points between.

The silence is soon broken by the same voice, its timbre thin, metallic, and filling the room: “Miss, we’ve a go from the sync reports. By your leave, we’re ready to unclamp you.”

A single nod follows the ensuing silence, soon followed by a series of tinny snick sounds. The vixen slides a very short distance down the now nearly vertical table, landing on her own two feet after a mere inch or so. Her knees wobble slightly as she comes to rest on the balls of her feet, a slight groan bubbling in her throat as she exhales, “Shit. How long was I down for?”

“About a week, miss. Is there an issue?” the speaker asked, a masculine voice buzzing through a yet unseen speaker in the room.

She wobbles unsteadily on her feet, one hand reaching back to find the table. As her hand comes in contact with it, the sound of a small motor can be heard. The table starts to move again, its movement smooth and slow until after several seconds, it has returned to its horizontal position. It then sinks slowly toward the floor by several inches and stops. 

The vixen seems to understand what was meant by this as she turns to sit, then springs up with a soft yelp. “Son of a gun. I always do that to the boys,” she mutters as she sits again, one hand coming to rest between her thighs, hefting a plump, lightly furred scrotum to keep it out of the way as her rear end comes to rest. 

As she comes to rest on the table, one of the seamless room’s walls grows a slight dimple. It retracts to one side, revealing a doorway as she leans forward, seemingly oblivious to the chill in the room, despite her nipples peeking through the much thicker fur of her chest. Her attention turns to the body walking through the doorway. The person that entered, obviously completely female as the vixen determined with a cursory view of the extremely form-fitting body suit they wore, is wearing a helmet and respirator to go with the suit and boots.

“Standard operating procedure, nurse?” The vixen queried, her eyes half lidded, though her irises still swirled slightly, the coruscating pigmentation of each orb still glistening and reflecting what light they could get. Her sapphire and amber stare seemed to unnerve the orderly that had entered, the suited body stopping for several seconds.

Hesitantly, the suited body inhales once before speaking, the respirator hissing softly and ticking three times. “Yes, miss. Since I work with multiple patrons here, it would not do to have me accidentally cross-contaminate your nanofield with foreign matter while you’re still in the startup and initial control phase. The suit makes it easier for us to use the EMP shower required for me to enter the room.”

“Ah, that does make sense. Would suck to be rooted in my own body, I’d wager.”

“Yes, miss, it does,” the nurse replied, flicking her wrist to expose a small plexiscreen, its plastic frame unfolding quickly with the practiced motion. A second later, it lit up with data scrolling over the hair thin display.

The next hour was spent learning various methods of control, as well as proper maintenance of the bot clusters housed in the nodules resting near the vixen’s spine. As the suited nurse went through the various care and maintenance routines, and the attunement cycle to get the bot cloud to respond to its new controller, the vixen learned plenty.

Eventually, the nurse relented, giving the newly nanobot-enhanced vixen a much wanted break. “And some clothing!” the nurse seemingly chirped, her face still quite obscured by the shield plate of her helmet as she stepped back into the room after a moment’s departure. “Not that I am embarrassed or anything, but, um... you’ve been jiggling around a fair bit over the last hour. F... Figured you might want the support for the next, um, training session in a bit.” The nurse hands over a small, two inch cube to the still naked vixen before stepping back, as if she expected to be bitten.

The vixen could only chuckle a little as she took the small package, turning it over in her hands several times to find the seal on the cube. “I guess this is actually part of my training, then. Handing me a sealed cube and expecting me to open it, that is,” the vixen murmured, the blue hue of her left arm’s fur marred by a thin silver stripe for a few moments. The stripe glittered in the room’s light, as if it were moving on its own, then abruptly disappeared.

“Well played, dear,” the nurse replied, the kindness in her voice easily detected where her facial and body features were not. She watched as the vixen’s cube neatly split itself open in eight chunks and seemingly dissolved in a silver fuzz.

A wry smile adorned the vixen’s face as she stepped into the freshly unpacked shorts, murmuring, “Thanks. Please, though, call me Araija. So, the box was made of a mixture of aluminum, copper and titanium, then painted over. The bots work well with metal mixtures and can rebuild themselves and repair minor medical issues in my body this way?”

“Yes, Araija, that’s correct. They also use dead organic material -- skin flakes, hair, fur -- and organic material you explicitly direct them to use, such as a flower if it is in reach of the bots. There is a drawback, however,” the nurse states, her hands folded together in front of herself as she watched the vixen put on the shorts and sport bra that were expanded from the cube. “That drawback is thermal dissipation -- the bots, under some circumstances, are capable of venting the heat they build up from usage through either your nodules themselves, or through your body in the case of mildly extended usage.”

“Ahh? It sounds like you’re setting me up for something.”

“Indeed, miss, I am. You may have noticed that your back was slightly warm while we went through calibration and config, and your first few uses of the bots. I have an advanced test for you to try, though. Try to use your bots to generate a bit of cloth that runs from your top to your shorts.”

“I don’t have material to sourc-” The vixen began, but was cut off by the nurse.

“Your body, as are the majority of our bodies, is covered with dead organic material. Yours, more so than mine -- I lack so much protective fur. Hair and fur alike can split at the ends, Consider this your all over split end treatment, Araija.”

“Hm. I guess you have a point,” came the reply after a few moments. Araija closed her eyes, seeming lost in concentration as a silver band appeared just below her breasts and slowly worked its way down. In the wake of the band, shinier fur appeared, much more lustrous than before. Slowly, a thin band of material began to grow from the top she was wearing, but its progress stopped after several seconds, leaving the vixen panting slightly.

“Ah,” said Araija, “I guess this is the overheat you warned me about...”

“Indeed. Basically, the more work the bots need to do to produce the end result, the more heat they generate. I suspect that you tried to have them mimic the cloth that was already there, didn’t you?” The nurse nodded as she spoke, her hands gesturing behind the thick material swaddling her digits.

“Yeah.” Araija could only nod and pant as her body radiated the heat that her nanobots generated.

“Let me tell you something that’ll help, then. You don’t have to exactly clone everything when duplicating it all the time. As you start using your bots more and more, they will need to offload the heat to something. It starts with the nodules, but they can only absorb so much heat, since they are pretty small. So, the next place the heat goes is to your bloodstream. Since it’s a giant network of movement in your body, the heat can be dissipated in most cases through bodily radiation.”

The vixen nodded, listening quietly as the nurse explained further, “However, you take a bit of a penalty as a non-human for radiating away the excess heat, since your fur tends to be good at trapping heat close to your dermal layer. As a result, you stay overheated longer.
“Here,” she continued, handing the vixen a small, powdery cube, a slight residue left on the tough black material of her suit gloves. “This cube is made of materials that you can easily procure on a simple grocery trip. It’s plain gelatine, with shavings of aluminum, in an eighty/twenty mixture. If you happen to have a water source nearby while doing a heavy replication job, you can basically elongate your nodules with this formula. With the elongated nodules, you’ll provide more surface area to dissipate the heat. Gelatine happens to be of similar consistency to your nodule sinks, so it works well for replication of the extension of your sinks without overdoing it, and the extra aluminum is for the bots to help support them. It’s handy when you’re using heavily filtered water and don’t have anything to discard.”

“So basically, I could have a set of tendrils drooping from my back to dump the heat,” Araija asked as she stood, her hand coming to rest on her lower spine, the cube pressed against one of the nodules as she looked around, eyes locked onto a bottle of water across the table.

A single nod accompanied the smooth movement of the suited nurse, sliding the bottle across the table to the vixen. The bottle’s movement is neatly stopped by a fur-covered elbow, only to have its contents seemingly drain away moments later in a silvery blur. Along the vixen’s lower back, each of the nodules sprouts a few inches of bluish gel as her breathing slows down.

“Good job, Araija,” the nurse spoke, though rather hesitantly, a hint of apprehension in her voice.

“Thanks,” exhaled the vixen, her body relaxing as it disposed of the extra heat through the gelatinous protrusions sticking out of her lower spine.

“I, ah... I think I’ve covered all the basics,” the nurse stammered, hands clasped together as she manages to finish her sentence: “This is, um, this is where we let you get fully dressed and move to a contamination room so that you can get used to how non-native clouds feel, and how to protect yourself against attacks.”

The nurse’s gloved hand reaches out to the vixen, escorting the partially clad fur-covered body to the doorway as it opens again.

Chunk 2: exec();

Months later, at home, late one night.

It was a quiet evening at home for Araija -- a Friday with nowhere to go, nothing to do, and nothing important to do for two days. As was her favorite pastime, she was in bed, mostly naked with a plexislate propped up on her nightstand, and a small keyboard held in her left hand. 
Casually, she perused around the metanet, one hand on the keyboard, the other resting casually between her thighs. Her thumb gently kneaded at the plump scrotum resting between her thighs as she exhaled a little sigh. Her digits manipulated both the solid plastic keyboard as she browsed through the contents of the multi-planetary network, as well as the creamy smooth fur covering the weighty orbs.
Hmm, she thought to herself as she read through another news site, finding herself growing depressed with all the horrible news she turned up with each page she viewed, I guess I should do a little research on what I can really do with my implants. It’s nice to have the extra hand that the bots offer, but surely, they can do more than just cut straight lines through paper, or stitch a document back together.
Her attention turned to a search prompt on her display, the vixen thumbing in a query to find out what her species could do with the enhanced technology that had been bestowed upon their planet years prior.
“Nanobot body augmentation and you,” she murmured, reading through the results, “A basic primer to bot-enhanced beauty. Sounds like an interesting read.”
She selected the link and was presented with pictures of bodies of females of multiple species -- humans, foxes, cheetahs, alligators, and hippos -- all in various states of undress on the page. The last two caught her off guard, with the alligator having sprouted a scale-covered chest, and the hippo having the curves of a voluptuous, big beautiful woman.
Her body responded to the unexpected stimulus in a way that only one with at least partial male biology can. The vixen murmured quietly, “Damn, I could hit that,” as she ogled the introductory pictures, none of them blatantly sexual, but all of them rather arousing to her as evidenced by the opening of her sheath becoming much more prominent, the tip of a deep blue shaft appearing. Its silver curved barbell through its tip and out its underside glistened slightly in the light projected by the plexislate’s display, the vixen absently thumbing at the growing tip as she scrolled down through the page.
Through the website, she found a wealth of information that educated her on basic nanobot enhancements, as well as some advanced techniques. Each of the tips she read included helpful video footage that explained each step, including the step being performed from start to end. She was treated to those varied and voluptuous bodies for each step, her eyes ogling their varied physiques as the bodies transformed before her very eyes.
By the end of her study session, Araija found herself in a not unusual state of arousal for the evening, her legs spread as she rested upon her back in bed. Her feet were flat on the bed, pointing her knees upward as she exhaled a shaky sigh, her thin fingers wrapped around the decently sized pole jutting from her groin. The vixen found herself nearly locked into an all too familiar cycle of self-gratification as her fingers kneaded and squeezed the turgid rod, rubbing her finger over the piercing at its tip and through the slick fluid that the bluish flesh produced.
However, she had new ideas running through her head, after having perused the body modification site, so she managed to get out of her bed and head to her bathroom with a slate in one hand, and a cock in the other. 
She turned on the water in her bathtub, fiddling with the temperature for a moment before turning her attention to the medicine cabinet, letting go of her swollen pride to allow it to dribble into the sink underneath it as she fished through her cabinet for supplies. She grabbed a box of cubes that were stashed in the cabinet with a lecherous grin, putting her plexislate on a cradle installed in the bathroom just for it. Her slate was pointed at the bathtub, showing the aroused vixen a split view of the site she had just perused, and a view of her bathtub, now half filled with water.
The tap turned itself off moments later, thanks to modern technology, and a rather sensible design that could detect just how many gallons of water had been dispensed through the tap, then disable it. The vixen opened her box with a grin as she approached her tub, murmuring softly, “Free space on local storage for video recording?”
Her plexislate returned an answer, piping it through its vocal output: Storage space for recording single angle video: nineteen, one-nine, days remaining at current quality. Storage space decreases by fifty, five-zero percent for single additional angle. Storage space for stereoscopic recording: nine and one half, nine-decimal-five, days remaining.
Her grin grew at the response, her reply to the slate being simple: “Start stereoscopic recording.”

She came to rest at the edge of her bathtub, facing the slate at its display flashed once to acknowledge her directive, her plump rear resting on the thin, plasteel edge of the tub. She sat there with her legs spread intentionally, allowing for her slate to record her partial arousal and its subsequent increase as she got into what she intended to do. Her left hand pressed against her lower spine with a couple of the cubes from her container in it, the rest of the cubes coming to rest on the floor next to her tub, their plastic prison sealing them from the increased humidity of her bathroom.
A soft groan boiled past her lips as the tub’s water level began to drop slowly, accompanying an impish smile as she murmured, “The safe word, my dear, is Braeburn.”
Again, her slate flashed a small band across its top in acknowledgement of the words she nearly whispered. The vixen did not need to look up, though, as she knew her safe word would be honored by the slate, having tested it a few times prior. If she spoke the safe word, not once but twice, her bathroom would emit an electromagnetic pulse, which would disable her implants.
However, this safety feature was not on her mind as she pulled a pair of freshly sprouted gelatinous tentacles around her waist and onto her lap as she sat on the edge of the tub. The tentacles began to writhe and wriggle on her lap after a few moments, the vixen having connected to the nanobots that comprise the collective length of her new appendages.
A lusty little moan works its way out of her mouth as her eyes start to close, her tentacles coiling around the base of her shaft and around the upper portion of her scrotum. Her tongue lolled out of her muzzle as she gave her balls and dick a little tug with the warm, slick goop that makes up the appendages, softly mumbling, “Mmf... I enjoy that a little too much, I think... but iss time for something new.”
Thin, silver lines began to appear along her cock in a very inorganic pattern. They grew up along the turgid length in straight lines, and sharp angles, covering her dick in what looked like a series of circuits, until only a very miniscule portion of the length was uncovered. Similarly, her balls were covered with a pattern, but this one was much more rounded and organic in nature. As the lines grew, her body relaxed as she leaned back, turning to prepare to sit in her bath tub.
A slight blush covered her face as her rump made contact with the water in her tub, settling herself down with her tentacles jerking on her balls and dick gently. Softly, she mumbled as she relaxed in the tub, “And here we grow...”
The remaining water in her tub began to drop from its displaced height, her scrotum and penis beginning to grow in response. Over the span of several minutes, her scrotum grew from the small, lemon size she was intimately familiar with, to the size of a pomelo, and finally, to the size of a small watermelon.
At the same time, her shaft, which was as thick as her wrist before she started tinkering with the information she had gathered from the body modification site, and a modest six inches long, also started growing to significantly larger proportion. When her shaft stopped growing, it no longer stopped at her belly button. Instead, it had nudged its way between her rather modest breasts, twitching rather dangerously as it inadvertently rubbed against the soft fur of her mammaries. 
Araija could only exhale a soft mewl of appreciation and pleasure from her new growth, her hands sliding up the thicker shaft as it drooled and dripped onto her tits. She realized, though barely, that she could not wrap one hand around the engorged rod. Instead, she found herself using both of her hands with their digits laced together, and her thumbs sitting side by side to each other to masturbate her new found length.
Along with this, her tentacles seemed to take on a mind of their own as they caressed the lewdly bloated scrotum quivering like gelatin between her thighs as her hips arched slightly to help her jack off the grossly swollen rod.
Combined, the vixen simply did not need much further stimulus than she had at that point. Her eyes were closed as she bucked into her own hands, jaw clenched as she huffed and snorted, exhaling hard through her nose. Soft grunts and groans bubbled from her for several seconds, before she managed to bark a very short statement.
“I’m.”
“Gonna.”
“FUCKING.”
“CUMmmmmmmffnnngggghhhhhhh~”

Her last word was punctuated by the rather sudden eruption of her bloated dick and balls, the first jet of her seed erupting right at her nose. When her nanobots grew her scrotum, her testicles were also enlarged by the procedure, rather than left to swim around in a large and seemingly empty sack. As a result, when she popped, the enlarged testicles, combined with the notorious volume of seed that canids produce, and then further combined with her already pent up status and the influx of significant amounts of hydration to her body resulted in the vixen whiting out her face with the first spurt.
“Nnnngh~!” her voice exclaimed underneath her newly applied sperm mask, the first spurt quickly accompanied by several more twitches of her gargantuan dick, properly spunking the blue and cream vixen from the top of her head, all the way down to underneath her tits by the time her balls finally decided to stop churning helping after helping of spunk.
Tiredly, she reached up to her face with one hand, using a couple of fingers to rub and scrape the spunk from her nose first so that she could breathe a bit more normally, and then from her eyes.
Her half hard pecker twitched on her stomach and dribbled on her chest as it seemed to come to a rest. Once she was satisfied that the output from the fleshy sex snake on her chest was not going to render her blind, however, she put her hand on it to pet it gently, only to murmur two things.
“That was so fucking worth it. ... end recording.”

Chunk 3: debug();

Monday.

There’s always a bloody Monday after the weekend, she thought as she woke up to the sound of an alarm clock blaring its monotonous song of “Beep beep beep beep, Beep beep beep beep” until her left hand came crashing down on it.

Araija grumbled curses to every thing that made Mondays so Monday in her book as she tried to sit up on the side of her bed. 

It was at this moment that she would realize that she does not need caffeine to wake up this morning.

Her fun weekend of body modification came with a bit of a side effect that she forgot to rectify. She was used to using saline to infuse her body parts with extra fluid, causing them to swell to large proportion, and her body would expel the liquid over the weekend. However, with the nanobots, they rebuilt the bodily structures that were modified as she stood up, gingerly shuffling her way to the bathroom as she mumbled:
“I can’t go to work like this. These are obscene.”

The first thing she did was send a message to her boss from her slate in the bathroom:

Chief,
	I am not going to be able to make it in to work physically this morning. I have had a bit of a mishap with my recent surgery. If you need me to work from home, I can, provided that it’s text only, and no video or audio feeds from me.

Once the message was away, she realized that she needed to relieve her bladder, and sitting down to do so was entirely out of the equation due to her increased size.
Through a bit of struggling and an interesting bit of coordination, she managed to find the sweet release of emptying out accumulated fluids with an over-sized penis.
She ended up sitting down in her bathtub while it was empty, trying to figure out what she could do when her slate chirped with an incoming message.

Araija,
	This is pretty rare for you to miss a Monday. I’ll apply a sick day for you. Take this one off, and get well.

p.s.: Don’t get too overzealous with your implants.

She blushed at the last bit of text, feeling as if she had been found out so quickly.