tf kink, transfem second person, military conflict Show more
a radically posthumanist trans liberation rebellion threatens the dystopian late-capitalist status quo of 20XX
you are a member of a special forces unit sent to what the Corporation has determined is the rebels' headquarters in an effort to wipe them out
your unit's explosives make quick work of the 20th-century vault door, and you all pour inside the shabby makeshift hideout, catching a group of about a dozen genetically and cybernetically modified rebels unaware. even though they outnumber you four to one, they seem unarmed, but you know their bodies are likely to be enhanced and could still be dangerous
in the middle of a tense standoff for a few moments as both sides size each other up, you begin to feel flushed. this shouldn't be nerves or adrenaline; the cruel training that the Corporation forced you through should've left you too numb to experience them. instead, you feel a bit like... crying? but also a bit like tearing off your pants despite your situation and touching yourself in front of everyone?? within a couple of minutes, the warm feeling builds to such intensity that you can't hold back a strangled moan.
the tension in the hideout collapses squarely on you. your squad mates turn to eye you in disbelief, and the rebels' slit-pupiled and digitally glowing glared narrow hungrily. their apparent leader, a massive minotaur of chrome and muscle, takes a few casual steps toward you. the rest of your squad lifts their rifles, but she only smirks
"ah shut it, pigs. this one's ours now, and y'all've already lost." you shudder at how cocksure she sounds about taking you, about *owning* you. you open your mouth to protest, but all you can manage is a weak, breathy whine as your body suddenly surges outward against your combat suit
"y'all sucked in a lungful of our nanites when you blew open that door. did you think we wouldn't know you're coming? or that we'd leak our *real* hideout?" the rest of your unit shifts uncomfortably, but you're preoccupied with the pressure of your hips pushing out against your kevlar leggings, the building soreness in your chest, the tight pressure right at the point where your spine meets your tailbone
"our lil bots can recognize one of our own, they know exactly what kind of body you've always wanted, and they're gonna give it to ya, cutie." she turns to you again with a predatory smile, and you fall to your knees with a gasp, your new tail finally bursting out with the change in position. "as for the rest of you..."
she gestures dismissively with one hand, and all at once, your entire unit collapses, apparently unconscious. with only a couple of massive strides, she clears the gap between you, blocking out the hideout's flickering orange sodium lamps as you kneel at her feet. you don't even notice the new pair of arms that tore through the sides of your suit, or that they'd begun idly groping your new breasts
the rebel leader bends slightly and lifts your chin with a finger nearly as thick around as your forearm. you meet her softened gaze with eyes glazed over, a bit of drool leaking from your developing muzzle onto her hand. her voice is quiet, low, and soothing, like distant thunder
"welcome home, cutie"