Interlude: Meanwhiles and Neverweres

In the TARDIS, there are many rooms. Many - indeed, most - are utterly benign to an innocent visitor, or are merely dangerous on a mundane level. Others are more hazardous, chambers of null-time and inverse causality that would wipe an unprepared occupant from existence in a negative instant. Some, though, show strange and uncanny things; pasts that never happened, presents that don't exist and futures so improbable that to call them impossible would understate things...

Mary Wakeford traced the tip of her riding crop up and down the glistening labia of the girl in front of her. Victoria - a recent hire, she remembered - shivered slightly under the attention, acting every inch the innocent girl being unjustly punished. Mary knew better of course, just like she knew that the woman next to Victoria wasn't covering for her colleague entirely out of the goodness of her own heart. "I don't care what excuse you try to feed me, Victoria," she scolded the younger woman, "I quite clearly saw your hand fondling Joan's rear just as eagerly as she was fondling yours. Now, be still and accept your punishment."

"But she doesn't need to be punished, Ma'am," Victoria's partner in crime cut in, false remorse dripping from every syllable. "You must have been mistaken, Vicky wasn't feeling my arse up even half as roughly as I was groping hers! It's my fault, I should be the one getting punished." Joan Smith punctuated her 'self-sacrificing' assertion with a wiggle of her hips that Mary still had trouble resisting, but which she was rapidly getting better at denying. "I know what I saw, Joan," she scolded, lightly slapping Victoria's labia with her crop, "and that's why I'll be punishing you next. Now, I think that a hot piece of ass like you-" She dropped into a squat behind Victoria, admiring how large and round her cheeks were. "-deserves a thorough session of cunnilingus for being so naughty."

"yes ma'am i'm a hot piece of ass," Victoria replied in an hollow tone, gasping softly as Mary dragged her tongue between her juicy lower lips.

"just a hot piece of ass," Joan agreed vacantly, swaying her hips from side to side robotically.

It had been ten minutes since she last gave birth.

Breeder Fourteen squirmed in her restraints as she waited for her next insemination. She was a strange sort of breeder, she knew. Only the most obscenely-hung males and futas seemed capable of successfully fertilising her eggs, and only through raw intercourse, even when they had inferior fertility markers to less-endowed partners. The resultant zygote would not develop when placed in an incubator, instead entering some sort of statsis and needing to be reimplanted for her pregnancy to progress naturally. She required regular anal intercourse from a succession of well-endowed partners for development-speeding **** to take effect, and became agitated when left to develop 'naturally' once as a test.

But the offspring she produced, no matter her partner, were pinnacles of genetic fitness. They were stronger, faster, smarter and more creative than any other breeder's on record, outperforming their 'peers' and requiring the ancient and long-thought-obsolete procedures for caste advancement to be employed in every case. Now, she was only to be used by the highest-ranking Drahvin, endlessly creating new generations of superior life to continue their now-relentless conquest of the known universe. Science, art and philosophy were advancing at unprecedented speeds, worlds were subjugated or destroyed near-effortlessly, and alliances between their foes seemed to fall apart at the slightest provocation.

It had been eleven minutes since she last gave birth when one of her fifth-generation offspring arrived to knock her up again. Breeder Fourteen nearly crushed the futa's hips in her eagerness to bear another child, but that was easily fixed.

CyberSlut Planner ZH watched dispassionately as the President of the Pan-American Union's eyes rolled back in their sockets and her tongue lolled out in thoughtless bliss. As the woman swayed drunkenly on the spot, CyberSlut Infiltrator D-13 removed its fingertips from the President's temples and deactivated its inbuilt cerebral stimulators, before turning to ZH with a satisfied smirk on its face. The Planner catalogued yet another example of D-13's abnormal response to successfully mindfucking powerful women, but continued to flag it as a low-priority item of interest. After all, D-13 continued to perform excellently in its role despite its quirks - in this case, playing the role of a cheerful, bright young woman advocating for the normalisation of cybernetic enhancement.

It was a role D-13 was often employed in; there were few problems with public hesitance that could not be overcome by a busty, bottom-heavy blonde babe, after all. In fact, D-13's most visible augmentations seemed to achieve the most positive responses A pair of prosthetics that had the appearance of skin-tight armour molded onto long, luscious legs terminated in platform-soled, stiletto-heeled 'shoes' that demonstrated the efficacy of augmented senses in aiding both balance and social interaction. Another pair took the appearance of chrome 'opera gloves', and their inbuilt vibration function proved just as effective at enticing organics as the incredible strength they permitted when coupled with internal reinforcement.

Hearts, lungs, bones, muscles - all replaced with superior synthetic equivalents and packaged in a body just fake-looking enough to entice whoever looked at it. Men wanted to fuck D-13, women wanted to be D-13 - and sometimes vice versa - and even those who wouldn't augment themselves to achieve those goals would do so in order to obtain the advantages its body afforded it. D-13's former conveyance had also proven surprisingly cooperative, and so the President creaming herself on the floor of her office was, in fact, one who was nearly forty years dead by the time of the original acquisition of Planner ZH and Infiltrator D-13. Temporal manipulation had been integrated into CyberSlut doctrine as easily as any other technology, and the point of Humanity's full conversion was steadily moving closer and closer to the origin of Human society itself.

The Doctor moaned as another man blew his load up her ass, squeezing down on him until he ran dry and seized up, before he slipped out of her and staggered backward in a stupor. The next man practically body-checked him aside in his haste to fuck her, slapping one of her massive, perfectly-formed cheeks hard before lining his cock up and slamming himself home with a groan of ecstacy. The Doctor let out a moan of her own as she felt the mass of immature Bacchanalians inside of her squirm and ripple as it absorbed yet another batch of genetic data. She was glad her twerking addiction had finally run its course, or she'd have been in real trouble; she knew her ass was nearly irresistible even without the changes she'd undergone, but she'd never have found enough cum so conveniently without being able to hack into Salacia's public terminals and give every man on the planet an eyeful of her hypnotic hindquarters.

'Just a few hundred more,' she thought, flexing her walls and setting off a spectacular orgasm from her latest partner, 'just a few hundred more ball-draining loads of jizz and they'll be finished.' Making such a mass of Bacchanalians develop at anything resembling a reasonable speed, let alone the express course she was currently attempting, was an incredibly cumhungry process - one that suited an anal-addicted size queen herself perfectly, admittedly, but an incredibly cumhungry one all the same. Her eyes widened slightly and an appreciative 'oh' graced her lips as two especially hung men crammed their cocks into her eager asshole at once. It occurred to her that, having been incubated using a Time Lord's body and the seed of...

'Probably more than a thousand,' she mused, 'by the time we're done. More than a thousand ass-addicted studs, fucking the biggest anal queen for a hundred lightyears and a hundred years in any direction.'

Regardless of the exact number of fathers, they were likely going to emerge with expectations of their 'mother' - expectations like endless gangbangs by monstercocked futa slimegirls with a penchant for assfucking.

It was enough to make her squirt right there and then.

Aphasia moaned loudly as she threaded her hands through her 'mother's' hair, forcing the older woman's face even harder against her plump, puffy pussy. "Oh, right there Mum," she gasped, feeling the Time Lord expertly find every weak spot her current form possessed, "eat your daughter's cunt, you dirty bitch!" It was lucky the Doctor got off so hard on being degraded, or it would have been impossible to stay in character. Not that she needed to, with how much she'd altered the Doctor's mind. But the fact that her 'mother's' psyche, when pressed for a daughter she'd be willing to turn incestuous for, had produced a phat-assed, sharp-tongued brat who reveled in pushing boundaries and dressing like a cheap whore?

It was like the Doctor had been made for her, really.

The Doctor had tried to assume a dominant role in their relationship at first, trying to indulge her urges by 'punishing' Aphasia for her behaviour. So Aphasia had simply rearranged the older woman's thoughts more completely with each feeding, steadily breaking down any resistance to her lust for her 'daughter', until those punishment spankings had progressed to punishment strap-on sessions and then to simply lecturing her over her behaviour while they sloppily made out on the TARDIS stage mid-flight. It was such a turn-on, in fact, that Aphasia hadn't even parasitised another woman since the Doctor stupidly set her free.

"Watch your tone, young lady," the Doctor scolded her, "a nasty little whore like you has no business talking to your mother like that!" I might have had an effect if the slut wasn't trying to make Aphasia squirt all over her at the same time, but that didn't seem to register with the older blonde. Aphasia obliged her, pussy juice gushing as she threw her head back and shrieked with pleasure. She was so glad she ended up not having to share the Doctor's energy with her idiot family - they'd have had to drain her to **** to sate their hunger, and letting the Doctor recover so she could keep fucking her mind was far better.