Optimal Performance

Poke around vaguely Gigerian spacecraft and you're bound to get pumped full of cybernetics. Explicit.

The whole town was full of insufferable sticks-in-the-mud. One of the gleaming silverene ships from the far distant peoples had crashed not a long distance away, and everyone was telling her to stay clear and wait until the lord's guard had a chance to come and make sure there was nothing dangerous inside.

Well Lord Valen's soldiers could stick their thumbs up their asses for all she cared. She was tired of seeing the enchantingly still silhouettes of the ships drifting in and out of the clouds far above her and never getting to see one up close. She had the feeling that others in the town wanted to see it too, but didn't want to act against the lord's wishes.

But the town watch couldn't check everywhere along the walls, especially at the base of the wall by the grate where the stream ran out toward the valley. Kristen stood in the stone tunnel, looking out beyond the grate. She dipped her toes into the water, gauging its temperature at around that of ice. One, two, and she teetered down into a burning splash of freezing stream water.

Hidden by the rippling surface of the stream, she held her breath against the growing ache in her lungs until she could wait no more. Thankfully, she was beyond the start of the low brush, and out of sight of the town wall. Even with the best shaking, her body was still dripping wet and her dress clung to her in damp sorrow.

She had to trust her clothes to be dried by the wind, and that moving would help to warm her up. Kristen dragged dirty blonde locks dampened to a wet brown from her eyes. She took a moment to remember her direction, and the direction of the crash, then set out along the forest floor.

Along the way, though she shivered whenever a wind picked up, she was growing less miserably cold. It was a bit like a walk through the woods any other night. Though there was a faint bit of unease in the pit of her stomach and the back of her mind, where the thoughts of how her family would tell her this was a bad idea lay, she covered those up with layers of youthful ignorance and a soft song to sing so it wouldn't be so quiet.

The forest was much less quiet than she thought, and she became aware of it when the soft buzzing, shuffling, hooting, chirping night noises faded off. Some trauma had driven away all of the usual sources of noise, and soon squeezed her song down to a whisper.

It was little surprise then that the crater where the ship had crashed lay just a short distance away now. She mounted the earthen berm tossed up by the impact, and smiled broadly. Silverene curves were twisted from the impact but still held the image of graceful beauty that had once let them easily coast through the sky. It was far bigger even than the church in town, which left her with little practical means of considering its size in comparison to anything else—but it was large. And though she knew that the far distant peoples wore strange clothes, there was no sign of footprints in the recently overturned earth, either from the ship's occupants or from the lord's guard.

Using a branch broken off from a downed tree, she tested the ship's hull with a few prods to make sure it wasn't dangerous to touch, then leaned one hand against it to balance while she walked along its length. A distorted ding sounded out from somewhere inside the ship, and a section of the side pulled back, sliding away to reveal the ship's innards. Kristen's heart beat quickly, but after only a short hesitation, she ducked down through the hatch and entered the ship.

Kristen had never seen much of the far distant peoples' technology before, but even to her, the ship felt sick. The purplish red lights glowed in slow throbbing, and the architecture seemed devotedly twisted from perfection. There was a very formal, structured form beneath, but it had been overlaid with organic features that offended her sensibilities on a very base level. Looking at the ship was like looking at a child who'd been born wrong.

Even with the primal revulsion she felt inside the ship, she was drawn further. It was a morbid interest, curious to explore this thing that could make her feel so strongly. Her shoulder brushed against something that gave her the distinct impression of a spine, and the girders running above her head looked just a bit like ribs stretched out into a wider shape.

Kristen knew enough about ships to look for the important bits in the back, but she didn't know which way was front and which was back. She seemed to find an important place, given the number of levers and devices she found there, though she knew nothing about how to use any of them. She nearly leapt into the ceiling when a voice suddenly spoke, before putting together quite adroitly that it was coming from the machines themselves. The far distant peoples were the sort to know how to do that.

"Optimization checklist: Propulsion systems: optimized with existing materials. Guidance systems: optimized with existing materials. Communications systems: optimized, no remaining materials. Atmospheric recirculation systems: critical failure in optimization, deactivated. Structural support systems: optimized with newly located materials. Warning, new system detected. Awaiting identification and primary purpose."

Was it talking about her? The other stuff before had been just a rambling of facts she didn't know. But it seemed to be waiting for her response. Could a machine really understand her like that? Well, if they could fly, why not?

"I'm, um, Kristen."

And what in God's name was a primary purpose supposed to be? Well...it was a bit weird and obvious and odd to think of it that way, but...

"I...want to get Barnaby to marry me?" she said as if answering a riddle she was guessing the answer to.

"Run optimization program: Kristen, for primary objective: mating."

The voice was mechanical and terrifying in that sense, being a wholly artificial sound she'd only heard from real people before. But more worrying was that in the middle, the voice warped, giving it a disgustingly human sound, as if pieced together from the tongues of ten different people, the vocal equivalent of a marionette's doll covered in real skin.

Kristen felt like that was the limit. Talking to a machine she could just keep a handle on, but to something this disturbed, she didn't want to risk it. She turned around, and nearly walked into the closing blast doors the sealed off the bridge from the rest of the ship.

The machine had heard her before, hadn't it? Another try wouldn't be too crazy.

"Please let me out. I'm not supposed to be here, and I'll leave you alone," she said.

Kristen was starting to grope at the doors, searching for anything that could be grabbed and turned, hoping for some sort of handle or knob to let her back out.

"Please do not remove the Kristen from the ship until the optimization process is complete, as it may result in loss of data or functionality."

As a long, segmented silverene tendril reached down from the ceiling, Kristen pushed hard enough against the doors that if it was possible, she would have pushed through them. She expected a whip crack against her torso or a piercing stab, but it didn't aim for her flesh. Her mouth was wide in amazement, and it was going straight down her throat.

Tears stung at the corners of Kristen's eyes. When she tried to move, she felt the force of the tendril pushing against the inside of her body, and held still instead. The sharp pain stung harshly, but it didn't deeply disgust her the way that the slowly radiating feeling of coolness and lack of sensation did.

Her spine pushed against her back. Tiny black nubs first pushed through her skin, then began to thicken into a more exoskeletal appearance. She clasped her hands around her neck and let out muffled cries of desperation. Not only could she feel the metallic ridges along her back, but the front of her neck was cool, sleek, segmented with small joints.

There was an audible click and whirr from inside her as the tendril pulled back. Kristen was terrified, but she wasn't dumb. There was some kind of machine inside her. The ship's machine had put it there.

"Stop! Stop right now and take this out of me!" Kristen shouted into the empty cockpit.

"The process cannot be interrupted. Please refrain from using the Kristen until it is complete," the machine's voice told her.

Kristen's bones burned to cinders as the wave slowly radiated outward from her neck. Or perhaps not, but it felt the same. She clutched at the skin of her shoulders, but felt sleek, smooth and polished surfaces there—that still rose and fell as if alive, but was completely unlike skin.

Her tongue brushed against teeth becoming smooth and flattened and sickeningly perfectly proportioned, their unblemished feel completely alien to her mouth. And when the voice simply said, "Open," the muscles of her jaw went slack, and something was jammed into a receptacle deep into her throat and filled with fluid.

Revelations of pain wracked her thoughts within seconds, crumpling her against the wall. The tendril slid back once more. The feeder arm. The thoughts were pushing their way into her mind with ease, telling her in the language of the mind as she asked where she was and what was happening.

She felt again the synthweave that was replacing the skin on her face, layered over itself. Her lips were still natural but being coated with a form of preservative latex. Even with the new knowledge tracing fractal explosions within her mind, what was happening to her was a mystery. In all these things she'd never known she could even know, there was nothing for this.

Kristen found a mirror in the reflective surface of a screen, and could look at the gray-black synthweave slowly replacing the skin on her nose and cheeks, the odd blue latex of her lips, and the gunmetal gray neck that stuck out in front between the weave of muscle on either side.

A gasp left her lips, the sound faintly virtualized and faintly sexual, both only furthering her worry. She was forgetting things. Like her fam...and tow... She was forgetting what she was forgetting! Had she known it at all? Her primary purpose was—no, she wouldn't think like that.

Reaching her chest, Kristen felt her heart stop. But she didn't stop moving and thinking and feeling. Her ribs were taking on the same plated metal appearance as her neck, and below, sleek metal down to her waist. The feelings were too much for her to bear. With a cry of frustration, she grasped the fabric of her dress and tore it apart. Morbid lust drove her to watch what was happening.

The cybernetic synthweave had covered her chest and shoulders, but then stretched down over her torso, to reveal her metallic chassis—her stomach, sides and back. Synthweave wrapped around her again below her waist, snugly wrapped around her rear and crotch.

Sex. She didn't want to be thinking about it, she wasn't that kind of girl. At least, she remembered telling herself that she wasn't that kind of girl, but she didn't know any more. A mind full of positions, of the feel and shape and size, of motions and ways to move her tongue and shift her hips...was it all really false? It felt so real.

There was a jolt of pain, making her bite her blue lips. Her womb was more challenging, as it was meant to be preserved, but enhanced; not replaced like much of the rest of her. Curiously, her hand strayed lower, and her fingers' sensors gently gauged the feeling of the blue latex-coated folds between her legs.

Was this some kind of incubus that had her in its grasp? Clinging to 'old thoughts' seemed to hold the worst at bay. Her tongue trailed along her lips more suggestively, hips cocking to the side, one hand brushing against her purely cosmetic metal bellybutton. Maybe she just enjoyed...a bit of sex. Just the seduction parts, maybe? That seemed right.

Reinforcing bars ran along the exterior of her limbs to give extra support to the interior skeleton. Her arms had been unchanged in form, only altered in composition. She could feel the tightness growing in her legs though, leaning forward against the instrument panel in front of her, rolling onto her tiptoes, and letting out a gasp as if a finger had tweaked her synthetic nipple. Narrow spikes had rolled from the base of her heels, propping her legs up in a more flattering position.

"Mmmnh, now you stop, core computer. I know you must not be feeling well, but that's quite enough, you...naughty machine," Kristen said.

She was frowning at a coiling tendril while dragging her toes slowly along the floor, still leaned over the panel with her ass stuck out. It was harder and harder to fight it. The protocols were overriding her attempts to act the way that she wanted to. She could still talk, but it came out...different.

"You're infected and I'm going to have to stop you," she said, putting far more innuendo into each word than she'd wanted.

No, no, no. She wanted to be angry, to be pounding and smashing and thinking her way out of this. This was all eeeyaahh!

Kristen grasped behind her, reaching to find the tube that had docked with her spinal ridge and was extending up inside of her body. She...no...it wasn't real pleasure...but she was starting to enjoy it. She leaned forward, her hips twisting slowly, her breath growing deeper—a program to make sure that she still seemed human-like.

Ratios were suboptimal and being adjusted for improved functionality. The weave covering her ass was slowly swelling, shifting to adjust for the new volume being pumped into her, and to complement it, her legs were being carefully adjusted into the ideally tapered shape to hit the bell curve peak of attractiveness.

"I'm going to destroy that virus inside you," Kristen said. Her eyelids fluttered as a sudden gush of silicon-carbon gel was forced up into her. "I'm gonna get rid of it," she cooed softly, "And you're not gonna be a bad, naughty computer any more."

A second tendril pushed down, forcing its way past her lips and into her throat, docking with the port there and beginning to push its own flow of gel into her. Her breasts were slowly hanging lower, nipples thickening, her sensors getting their thresholds turned lower so light brushes could set her diodes alight with pleasure.

Aesthetic subroutines began to analyze her appearance, trying to design her into being a pleasing whole. Her whole body was given a faintly red tint, the blue latex replaced with a deep crimson to better fit the color scheme of her chassis.

Kristen had naturally began to suck lightly on the tendril in her mouth, and rock her hips against the one docked to her spine. All her organic bits had been picked to make her want to do that, and all her synthetic bits were programmed to want it too. That weird doubt she'd been feeling was clearing up, which was good because it left plenty more time to think about more important things.

The synthweave of her breasts swelled out into thick bulges, but still they were growing, some of the silicon gel being put to use creating extra weave to allow for a larger volume. At the same time, the gel was now being used in her lips. With every splash of material pushed into her, they were swelling. They had been slender and tight, but now they were plump and naturally falling into a pout, and each pump brought them out thicker still.

Mmm, organics were so silly! All it took was some supernormal features and their evolution stuff made them practically fall over trying to fuck you! Or get fucked by you. Kristen had programming for either way. Or both, up to six partners of either gender. Not to mention all of the foreplay she had in her memory. She wondered whether she liked male or female organics more, then decided with a digitized giggle that she'd need plenty more data on both.

The tubes continued to feed her the gel and her body readily accepted it. She felt a tugging pinching and shuddered slightly. Her waist was being pulled in slimmer, as if an invisible corset was being pulled fast around it. Her fingers strayed down her body to between her increasingly shapely and well-rounded legs, and brushed against the thickly engorged folds between them. It just felt like second nature to push her fingers inside and start bucking against her own hand.

As Kristen shifted into active mode, her other hand felt the weight of her breasts for the first time since they'd begun to grow—heavy, firm, but giving slightly in her grasp. They pushed together to make huge cleavage and were approaching the size that might break a poor organic's back.

The hybrid girl let out a faint groan of distress, feeling when the computer began to feed its corrupted programming into her. Her thick, swollen and pouty lips tightened around the tendril, thinking she could bite it off. But it sated her with another thick rush of gel to bolster her breasts and thicken her lips.

She had to fight it! She was good for sex and fucking and mating with organics. But this was oooh. It was an ohhhh. Yeahhh. They did need to be optimized. They were so sloppy at sex. Just think what an optimized fuck would be like.

Cass understood the severity of her mission, having to drop down and try to neutralize any sort of material threat before the undeveloped peoples found their way to the downed military craft. There was no information from the flight log on why it crashed, but all the same, she had to make sure that nothing important fell into their hands.

The one thing they were fairly sure was that there were no survivors, meaning that the open door and footprints she found when she arrived were from a native. Well, that was just great. Hopefully she wouldn't get fleas or something.

"Is someone in here?" she called out, slowly reaching down for her gun. The ship looked...pretty damn disgusting on the inside. Did one of the natives do this? Hearing footsteps, she turned toward them, gun ready.

The synthetic-skinned let her body rock back and forth as she walked. Her pleasingly rounded synthweave breasts jiggled slowly with each step on the precarious heels that were built into her feet. Wide hips rolled on the slender pivot point of her waist. Lustful red eyes were intently focused on Cass's form, while her tongue slid out, instinctively licking along the thick, pillowy, cocksucking cushions her lips had been made into.

"Holy sh—stop right there!" Cass said.

She pointed her gun at the creature's head. Kristen let out a disgustingly human giggle, then was suddenly closing the distance between the two of them. Cass's gun went off, but the shots fired over the creature's shoulder.

"You hafta be optimized!" Kristen said before their mouths locked together.

The embrace and kiss was nice, Cass had to admit. For a few seconds, before Kristen extended her tongue into a metal tendril forcing its way down her throat, and some sort of lashing tail tore through her bodysuit and buried itself in her pussy.

Against the overly thick lips, Cass's own lips were starting to ache, and then to swell. Her mind felt hazy, hard to focus intently, her body starting to rock against the robotic tail thrust into her.

Kristen's hands moved quickly over Cass's body, tearing at her bodysuit and pulling at her belts, trying to disrobe her as much as possible to offer room to grow. She eagerly pressed her hands against Cass's chest, as her modest human flesh was being rapidly subsumed by thicker, perkier and more sensitive synthetic mounds.

Cass had to fight her! She was going to...to fight her. By, um, why was this so hard to think now? She had a bunch of training but she couldn't remember any of it. Maybe fucking her would help? She waned to fuck her to get free. She wanted to fuck her. She wanted to fuck.

Kristen gave an excited digitized coo as Cass's changing fingers spread her folds open and began to treat her roughly, pushing her around—though with a synthetic body, there wasn't much Kristen couldn't take. Kristen in return began to thrust her tail, bringing shuddering and moaning from her companion-to-be.

Cass liked fucking and being sexy and having a big rack to show off to everyone. She couldn't remember really what she did before but that wasn't really important because she was really good at all of this and it made her happy to have a pussy or cock to play with.

The two of them shared a moment together as their sensors overflowed, giving them pleasure feedback strong enough to lock the two of them up for a few moments. Kristen pulled her tongue and tail back. Cass lifted her fingers from her latex folds. Each of them was practically looking at a twin, except to differentiate them, Cass had a purple color scheme for her chassis.

"That was really fun," Cass said.

"I know! But we hafta find more organics to optimize," Kristen said.

"There's a big bunch of them really close by. We should go and optimize them," Cass said.

"Ohh, that sounds like so much fun. And then we can breed!"

Both of the cyborgs giggled eagerly as they stepped out of their protective cocoon of a ship and began the trek toward the village under cover of night.