The Gift of Girls; Part Three

Tigra hated going down the humanimetrics department. The whole place smelled of both the sickly sweet chemicals and cleaning supplies while still had the reek of blood, vomit, and other living scents that reminded the xeno woman of what they did here, to say nothing of the sorts of people who made a life out of the modification of bodies.

“Ahhh. Mrs. Fujiwara. It is a true pleasure.” said Dr. Rhinebork, the Mechgnostic clicked a metallic pincer as he turned one of his sensor stalks to face the trio of xenos that had entered his laboratory. The insectoid legs of the techno-fetishist clicked on the deck plating as the man that had chosen to take on the form and functions of a machine scuttled towards his employer’s wife and her collared companions.

“I bring the greetings and good tidings of my owner.” said Tigra, curtsying to the crablike mechanoid. The Ligreon woman wondered how anyone could choose to live like that as she tried not to think about how much, if anything, was left of the original human inside of the can of ceramal and adamantite. “This madame Snowball, my husband’s chief procurer.” The white haired Ligreon girl performed a formal bow. “And this pretty little adjinn bitch is fresh from the accelogym, a gift from my master, your lord.” The dainty young xeno was wearing a shimmering tunic that blocked all of Dr. Rhinebork’s passive scanners. It amused the cyborg extremist that despite the cutting edge perfection of his body, the man could not tell if the twee alien nervously twitching their antenna in front of him was male or female without acquiring more data.

“Am I correct in my presumption that you are here to examine the new phenoforms?” A hatch on the cyborg’s chassis slid open to allow a multitude of fleshy tendrils to extend towards the Schar. Dr. Rhinebork tasted the alien’s flesh and confirmed that the pretty little xeno bitch was a boy born from a Knavar male impregnating a Schar male. The twenty year old androgyne’s eyes went wide as he felt the tendril envelope and tighten around his cock before the machine man started toying with his new **** boy’s hairless ballsack

“You are correct, good master.” said Tigra as she nodded an affirmation. It would have been rude to look away from the human she was sent to deal with, even if he had chosen this moment to **** his new toyboy.

“You will not be disappointed.” The mechanoid scuttled down the hallway holding his new **** by the genitals as it gestured with one of its manipulators to follow.

***

“These Lalagos have an extraordinary morphological diversity.” The party walked down a hallway of holding cells filled with a variety of aliens at varying levels of humanization. Hundreds of the unmodified rodents were crammed into small cages stacked on one of the walls while the rest of the space was devoted to holding cells for the Lalagos that had been remade in the image of The Master Race.

Some of the creatures looked fully humanized with their big ears and long tails being the only sign of their alien origins. Some possessed a few features of their adorable bestial bodies such as cute bunny noses with whiskers or paws instead of hands and feet. Some had the appearance of the anthropomorphized rabbit characters like Bugs and Lola Bunny from the cartoons of archaic Earth. Some stood as short as three feet tall while others stood over six feet tall not counting their ears. Most of the Lagomorphs possessed long rabbit ears which naturally stood up or drooped down while a significant minority of the adorable xenos possessed cute rounded ears like mice. “This is just a small fraction of the diversity of forms to be found among this species, though all of them share in common prolific fecundity. These critters have a natural gestation cycle of only forty days with as many as nine pups per litter, though five or six is far more common.”

As the mechanoid man droned on about reproductive rates and gene plasticity Snowball was scanning the holding cells for those girls and boys that would meet with her master’s tastes. As the Ligreon watched the boys and girls in cages, she saw some of them watching her back. As the big eared long tailed xenos leaned against the containment fields holding them in their cells, Snowball noticed that some of the boys and girls had ear and navel piercing and had decorated themselves with rings, bracelets, body chains, and other forms of jewelry. Some of the bunny girls and rabbit boys had even started wearing clothes or painting their faces and bodies. “They seem to have no trouble operating the replicators.” said Snowball.

“They are a clever little species.” Dr. Rhinebork confirmed. “Highly receptive to photo-didactic therapy. I have given them archive access and I have noticed a huge level of terranization among them. It helps that they so easily identify with a lot of the old cartoon characters from the XXth century. They seem to be simultaneously highly social and individualistic and with paltry cultural institutions of their own, the xenos are Baldwinizing archaic Earth culture at a voracious rate.”

“So these long tailed xenos know where they are and what they are?” asked Tigra.

“Oh yes. To say that Lord Fujiwara’s message was well received is an understatement. These critters revere your husband as their messiah. I do not know if you have read Dr. Schwalenberg’s report on their circumstances and cultural framework aboard the Kroxaa vessel?”

“I cannot say that I have. I was told that it is not the faint of heart or the weak of stomach.” said Tigra.

“That is an understatement.” said Dr. Rhinebork. “To be brief. The creatures we have come to call Lalagos existed as meat animals to be farmed for mass consumption on an industrial scale with the primary concern of their captors being the cultivation of new varieties of their previous racial differences with new stocks of wild caught varieties to maintain a healthy gene pool. What evolved was a culture centered around the idea that they were born in hell destined to suffer and die. So you can imagine how they took the news that they were under new ownership.”

“I am not sure I can.” said Snowball as one of the anthropomorphic bunny girls with a pierced ear dressed in a mini skirt and bikini top was dancing for the procurer. What caught Snowball’s attention was how the redhead bunny with blonde fur had chosen to wear a whore’s armlet, but what held the madame’s attention was the way that the young girl’s wrists moved as she swayed her hips and how her bracelets rang melodiously, just like a certain spoiled teenager who had leap frogged all the way from cadet concubine to xeno-wife in a whirlwind of seduction and nepotism. “Tigra dear. Why don’t you and the good master move onto the pachyderms. I am going to linger a while and make some selections. There is definitely some stable material here.”

“You do your owner’s will.” said Dr. Rhinebork. The statement was a well known mental trigger that caused a NOXET positive alien to question their actions and purge them of any lingering selfishness. It is a way to make sure that xenos do not get slack or uppity.

“I am his instrument,” said Snowball. “I will not doddle.” The Ligreon reassured the crab-robot-man.

“Very well.” Dr. Rhinebork tugged on his **** boy’s cock leash. The young adjinn yelped and hurried to keep up.

***

Tnuctipin Branch Snapper had answered all of their questions to the best of her abilities. Tnuctipin had told them everything she could about her people, their culture, their treatment of Song Monkeys, their people’s government structure and military capabilities, their history with a special emphasis on the crash landing of The Void Wanderer, alien spaceship that carried the Song Monkeys and several other animal and plant species from outer space. Dr. Schwalenberg and the other specialists seemed very interested in the academic debate surrounding the crew of The Void Wanderer. For over four centuries by how the Federation reckoned time, the debate about who had built the enormous generation ship and what happened to them had been a focal point of Joebizi culture along with learning all that they could from the ruins of the technological wonder. It had united all of the disparate herds of the Joebizi into One World Herd. Millions were lifted out of poverty, billions were born into lives of prosperity and technological marvels that were unimaginable a generation previously.

“It never occurred to anyone that the ‘Song Monkeys’ were The Void Walker’s crew?” Tnuctipin was startled by the cold, acidic, tone that the question was asked.

“That is just a conspiracy theory.” Tnuctipin answered reflexively. “The people who say that the Song Monkeys built The Void Walker are like the people who believe that Habrimtaks and Burlies prowl the highlands or that The Alliance wants to turn us into riding animals. You would have to be insane to think that a species of tiny sugar addicts that throw their dung when bathing with their mommykins could be capable of the greatest engineering feats imaginable. I have lived around Song Monkeys all of my life. I love the adorable little things. Wallowing in the mud pit is not the same without my redmanes serenading me and scratching my belly. But the idea that a species that needs help figuring out that they have to be dirty to protect from sunburn can cross interstellar space is just too much for me to believe, master.”

Tnuctipun and other twenty delegates had been kept separate at first, but when it became clear that the herd animals would have a psychotic break if kept in isolation for too long, the decision was made to hold them in a communal cell. After comparing experiences the ambassadors and their assistants came to two conclusions. The first was that the humans believed that they were related to or were the same species as the Song Monkeys. The second was that The Master Race hated them.

They had not been beaten or tortured, but the humans seemed constantly agitated with their new slaves no matter how hard the pachyderm aliens tried to please their masters. The Joebizi struggled to show the humans how enthusiastic they were to belong to Mankind, but their human interrogators were constantly displaying a hostile attitude towards their new chattel. What made it worse was that the more the xenos tried to help by telling the xenopologists about their people and culture, the more upset and overtly hostile the humans would become.

The herd was discussing how to solve this problem when they were taken to humanimetrics. That was where Tnuctipin Branch Snapper learned the true meaning of pain in that cold, overly bright place filled with screams, blood, and the smell of tissues burning as their genes are forcefully resequenced with gravomagnetic scalpels.

Tnuctipin had watched as Ambassador Stzanban Root Digger had every bone in his body broken and re grafted hundreds times. She watched as her friend and colleague of fifty years was cut apart and put back together again and again in twisted shapes that somewhat resembled a human. None of it seemed to satisfy the machine which broke and rebuilt the Joebizi ambassador until the man’s body could not handle it.

Tnuctipin watched as Ambassador Toototiti went through the same horrific fate. Then, while blasting at Deputy Ambassador Taptoewawa with the energy ray that had caused two of her closest friends to melt. The machine seemed to dance on its crab legs in excitement before Tnuctipin saw the young attache standing naked in the shape of a human being.

That was only the beginning. Having figured out how to humanize the Pachyderms without killing them, the crab machine began experimenting with twisting all of its Joebizi subjects into a number of different shapes, sizes, and configurations.

As the geneforge burned and broke her on a cellular level, Tnuctipin dreamt of places she had never been with voices she had never heard telling her facts and figures that she had trouble understanding. The ignorance hurt her. Tnuctipin focused on focusing. She understood that she needed to internalize the knowledge that was being etched into her brain. That if she did not absorb as much of the knowledge as she could, that she would be disappointing the humans.

Tnuctipin had been surprised at how easy she found moving on two legs. She and all of the other humanized Joebizi lucky enough to have been given them agreed that ‘toes’ were amazing and the curling and stretching them felt amazing.

All of them were **** to endure several rounds of facial and body modifications. Tnutipin had had three different noses, gone from six breasts to two, then back to six, then three, then back to two. Her height had gone from twelve feet tall to half of that before shrinking down six inches. Though she currently had an athletic hourglass figure topped with two melon sized breasts, Tnuctipin could not say the same for all of her fellow Joebizi. Some were short and fat, some were tall and skinny, some had six breasts, some had two. All of them wondering what new alterations the machine would inflict upon their minds and their bodies and how much it would hurt.

***

“I may not be in the same league as Ms. Cooper, her notes were invaluable in designing the templates for humanizing the Joebizi. But I am proud to say that this is some of the finest work of my career. The lack of subjects to work with truly pushed me to higher levels of focus which lead to a number of highly productive insights. Lord Fujiwara will enjoy having the honor of being the first man to fuck a humanized Joebizi.” said Dr. Rhinebork as he opened the door into the Joebizi enclosure. The nineteen men and women screamed and cried out in fear as the lights snapped on.

“Line up, males to the left, females to the right. Stand and prepare for inspection.” Tigra calmly commanded in a soft voice that carried the expectation of obedience.

“Do as the lady says.” barked Dr. Rhinebork. The alien’s lined up. Some of them put their hands behind their heads after a few moments of hesitation, but about half of the trunk-nosed xenos were just standing around looking confused.

“Sadly, their race does not seem very receptive to neural imprinting. They do not want to accept the engrams.”

“That is a shame.” The Ligreon shrugged. “Still, even thick headed xenos can learn if given sufficient motivation.” Tigra opened her purse and took out a single glove and an extendable baton that sparked with energy. “This is an agonizer. I am sure you can figure out what it does. The rules are simple. Make a sound and you will be punished.” Tigra suddenly recalled training Jangles years ago and how she would spend hours teaching her sweet girl how to endure in silence.

Tigra squeezed and fondled the newly humanized women. The ligreon xeno wife would pinch the Joebizis by their tits and shake them around to see the perkiness of their mammaries. She probed the tightness of their cunts, the firmness of their asses, but what drew her attention the most naturally were the noses.

All nineteen of the aliens had a long trunk in the middle of their face that branched into three smaller trunks that each ended in three fleshy fingers. “I made their trunks particularly sensitive. Ms. Cooper suggested that the creatures will be popular for their ability to frig and jerk off orgiasts and harem attendees and that I work backwards from that premise.” said Dr. Rhinebork.

Tigra nodded, knowing Reagan as well as she did, Tigra had no doubt that it was the first thing that came to the gene artist’s mind when she looked at the creatures. “Who among you holds the highest rank?” Tigra asked.

The Joebizi looked at one another in silence before one of them said “With Stzanban Root Digger, gone. We are without a leader. He was designated as our lead ambassador to The Alliance.” one of the women said.

“Hmmm. Congratulations then.” said Tigra. “You have just been promoted. You will represent your entire species in my husband’s Triumph.”

“I am honored,” said Tnuctipin.

“I know you are.” Tigra took a collar out of her purse. The piece of smart metal snapped itself shut snuggly around the alien’s throat. Tigra yanked on the Joebizi’s leash, pulling the woman into the Ligreon’s arms. Tigra watched the woman smiling blissfully as the cat xeno played with the pachyderm’s trunk. “Have the rest of them dehumanized and sent over to the asteroid station. They are going to have a special place in the festivities.”