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Rating:
Explicit
Archive Warning:
Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Category:
Other
Fandom:
Metroid Series
Character:
Samus Aran
Additional Tags:
Futanari
Language:
English
Stats:
Published:2022-07-31Words:7,632Chapters:1/1Comments:1Kudos:21Bookmarks:8Hits:2,823
Samus' Futa Panic!
Rabiator
Summary:
Samus Aran is infected with a retro-virus that makes her grow a futa cock and balls. Forced to head out onto a bustling planet in her Zero Suit to find a cure, humiliation and shamegasms ensue.
This is a commissioned story.
Work Text:
Samus' Futa Panic!
It had all started innocently enough. A routine mission to a planet well out of Federation space, but promising a very high bounty for a successful completion. Samus Aran, the most famous bounty hunter in the galaxy, scourge of the Space Pirates, a human woman who was also in a way, the last of the Chozo still alive, and the arch enemy to the Metroid species, had taken it happily. It had gone even more smoothly than she could have hoped-there hadn't been so much as a single Space Pirate there, not hide nor hair of Ridley (though she supposed he didn't have hair), and her only opposition had been a few panicky scientists, their cheap and expendable mercenary bodyguards, and the automated defenses they'd rigged up. Simplicity itself…except for one thing.
As Samus Aran had been rushing through the base, blowing holes into inches-thick metal doors and dodging the clumsy laser fire of a few dozen mercenaries, she'd been a little too eager. The mission was to capture just one of the scientists, any one, but the promised reward was higher the more of them she got. So she had been in a bit of a hurry to make sure none of them managed to escape in a shuttle and save herself the pain of chasing them down. Samus was a lot of things, but an ace pilot, she wasn't-oh she could fly well enough, but the thought of chasing down escaping scientists who might be dumb or smart enough to flee in different directions made her bored to tears just thinking about it.
So she'd dealt with the guards, destroyed most of the automated turrets (when she'd had the chance to do so in front of an audience, she'd actually Morph Balled her way up to the turrets by exploiting their angled blindspots and then transformed back and ripped the electronic guts of the weapon placements right out of the wall. Scared the little white coats shitless) and made her way to the central lab. There had been just one problem, one that Samus had actually dealt with a few times in the past. She had been a little too good at her job.
When she got the main lab, the scientists were terrified of her, and they tried to destroy their samples as fast as they could. An entire cocktail of lethal retroviruses had been released into the air, and then purged by the lab's basic and incredibly effective fail-safe system: the whole thing had been flushed into space, exposed to hard vacuum, as the base was on an asteroid lacking in atmosphere.
Just for the sake of it, Samus had grapple hooked one of the dead scientist's bodies, and recovered what samples she could, which hadn't been much. She'd come through the whole thing with barely a scratch on her, but no living bounties to show for it. Worse yet, the few scratches she had suffered happened to be on her visor plate. While she patched it easily with fast-acting foam, it hadn't quite been fast enough and Samus Power Suit computer had screamed at her about all sorts of foreign infectious agents. But she'd felt fine enough, and hurried off the planet. Like with a lot of other threats, Samus trusted in her unique human-Chozo hybrid status to keep her safe and unharmed.
Safe was what she was, to be sure. Unharmed as well. But not…unaffected. Riding back into federation space with a dead scientists and a few vials of planet-killing viruses, Samus had begun to notice something strange. Nothing she'd been able to pull from the lab's computers had warned her about anything like this, and she'd soon felt the effects in full. It had forced her to ditch her Power Suit for the trip back, piloting her ship in her skintight, body-hugging Zero Suit, which showed off every inch of Samus' supple, lithe frame, her long, deadly legs, her toned and well-muscled arms, the flat expanse of her eight-pack stomach, and the generous (some would say lewd) swell of her F-cup tits and the incredibly firm yet still mouth-wateringly jiggly dumptruck ass she somehow managed to squeeze into her armor.
All of which she could life with-as someone accustomed to facing death, Samus wasn't afraid of being gawked at by a bunch of aliens and people she could kill with little more than a glare (in one case, she actually had killed with a look as one of the mercenaries aboard the lab had seen her barreling down on him and decided to eat his own laser pistol rather than fight Samus Aran, capital 'T', capital 'H', The Hunter), at least not normally. But things were a long way away from normal right now. Samus Aran's DNA had been altered by one of the retroviruses, in a way that should never have happened and probably never would have happened to anyone but her, with her unique hybrid genome.
Samus Aran had a cock. It was obvious through her Zero Suit, which at the moment felt like she was wearing a very large and very tight condom over her entire body; the thing was more of a body sheath than any sort of normal clothing on a good day, and even the slightest alterations to her body stretched it out, and this was one noticeable alteration. Well, three actually, as Samus had a fat, swollen pair of testicles to go with her new dick. Her penis wasn't even that large, at least not by human standards, and her balls only seemed so swollen because Samus hazarded a guess that something in her DNA made them incredibly…productive. She could practically feel each wrinkle of her hairy ballsack through the Zero Suit, and she imagined she could even feel the wriggle of each one of all the billions of eager little sperm cells just swimming around in her balls, waiting for the chance to get released and knock up some poor, unsuspecting woman. It made her itch just to feel it, a constant tingling sensation in the back of her head that threatened to drive her mad.
Samus glanced down at her ship's navigation screen, chewing her plump lower lip in worry. The very first thing she'd done once she'd confirmed that yes, she had a dick and balls, and no this wasn't some sort of terrible dream was arrange for a doctor, a very discreet and very talented doctor, to have an appointment with her, offering him literally stupid amounts of money, a deal no one would ever have made for what was relatively routine genetic surgery. A few scans, a few tests, and one hour or so long trip in a gene splicer, and Samus would be good to go, she hoped. But Samus wasn't some vain kept woman of the Core systems looking to change her hair color without any showing roots or get bits of her eyes laser-scraped off so they could be bluer and brighter, she was paying for secrecy and speed.
Samus slapped the console of her ship, obsessing over speed at that very moment, trying to somehow channel her anger into making her ship go faster. If Samus was the religious type, she would have gotten down on her knees and prayed if she thought that would help. Samus had experimented with the dick a little, just to see how it worked, and found out that it was incredibly sensitive, her balls even moreso. She'd seen the way it swelled up with barely a few touches from her soft, Zero Suit covered hands, going from a limp stage to a clear, throbbing hard-on faster than any man she'd ever been with (not that that was a long list, as Samus was very picky), and she'd gotten so freaked out she'd zipped her suit back up and stopped touching it…which was harder said than done, as it was just so damn needy.
The sooner this was done, the sooner she was going to consume literal toxic amounts of alcohol and hope the part of her brain that made and stored memories died first. After several days of travel, she'd arrived at the core, scratching at her neck with increasing frequency and intensity as the slightest motion drove her insane, her thick thighs rubbing together in her suit stimulating her dick, she even had to sit differently. She'd heard stories from men about how often they had to drain their balls, and Samus had seen right through that utter bullshit-men could go a long time without any ill effects. But clearly Samus' new 'friend' was different, as though an entire lifetime of arousal was stuffed into one package.
But she was here now, and quickly went through the docking procedures, faster than she ever had before, spending all her time on the ship drilling them into her head until she could do them with her eyes closed. Samus didn't close her eyes though, that just enhanced her sense of touch and that was the last thing she wanted.
" Hunter class gunship, you are cleared and ready for landing. Thank you for choosing Gateway station, and we hope you have a pleasant solar cycle-"
Samus closed the channel with one angry stab of her finger, muttering to herself. "Yeah, yeah, come on, come on. What, wait the hell is this?"
A red warning light popped up on her screen, with an urgent message from the station, a text file that they'd clearly planned to read aloud to her. Samus skimmed it, gathering the important bits…the planet had seen a number of robberies and other violent crimes, and had decided the best step was forced de-escalation. Weapons and armor of any kind were forbidden from any public spaces and had to remain in a person's home or ship. Normally Samus wouldn't give two shits-she could kill a man with her thighs as well as with her blaster, but if she couldn't wear her armor.
"I'll be totally exposed." She said out loud, all this travel with her new little appendage having gotten to her. Samus Aran never talked to herself, she was the ultimate cool customer, composed under pressure and a natural survivor who got the job done in time, every time. Those were just facts-but then, it had also been a fact that she didn't have a dick. Facts changed, it seems.
Samus waited at the ramp to her ship, pacing so quickly and over such a small area that she'd soon buffed a section of the floor clean. She kept walking up to the button to lower the ramp, placing her hand over it, and then walking away. She felt hot, as though the planet's atmosphere was oppressively warm even in her ship-it wasn't, the planet was a moderate 19 degrees centigrade, yet Samus was sweating in her suit, which gave her stoic, if pretty face a warm, almost glowy sheen, and only made her dick stick to her thighs. She could do this, it was easy, she'd just have to walk fast-who would be looking at her, the galaxy's most famous bounty hunter leaving her very recognizable ship, wearing a tight bright blue outfit with a bouncing ponytail behind her and long legs that put her a head taller than most everyone she walked by?
"To hell with it. If I swing my arms the right way, no one will even notice, and I'm going to buy a pair of the loosest, baggiest fucking pants they make in this glittery whale of a planet." Samus smacked the ramp controls, which lowered smoothly and quickly, everything else around her working to her perfection which only exacerbated her internal (and not so internal) struggle.
Samus nearly ran down the ramp, which closed behind her the second her foot touched the ground of the hangar bay. It was busy enough, but everyone was focused on her work, all she had to do was sign into the terminal and walk on out of here-
Wait. Where's the goddamn terminal!?
There was no terminal-a victim of the thefts and robberies on the planet, it's power cell and many others had been swiped. That meant instead of a cool, emotionless, robotic docking bay terminal, she had to actually deal with a living, breathing person, a jowly faced alien who looked like an Earth frog with brown, sweaty skin and two absolutely enormous yellow eyes. Eyes that were staring right at the bulge in front of Samus' suit.
"Ah…sign here," He said, trying to be professional but disgust was written all over his face, at least if Samus could read his species right. His neck puffed out even more than usual, and Samus realized this was an indicator of stomach distress in his species. Even as she scrolled through the digi-pad he proffered to her, indicating that Yes, I'm Samus Aran, yes this is my gunship, no I don't want hangar bay insurance, yes I'm fucking sure! Samus could feel his gaze boring into her. She was used to that feeling, but normally there was a lot more fear and respect behind it and a lot less revulsion.
"Have a pleasant…ugh, cycle." The mechanic said when Samus was finished, walking by him so fast she seemed to cut through the air like a knife.
"I think I'm gonna be sick." She heard him say under his breath, a lifetime of being wary for danger giving her keen ears.
As she walked through the bay and out into the off-loading docks of the planet, Samus felt more eyes on her. Passing pilots, guards, other mechanics, and all the passengers coming and going into this area…even the cold, mechanical cameras with their ever blinking red eyes seemed to be staring at her suit, staring through her suit at the aberration underneath. Samus had often felt like a stranger in a strange world, not truly a Chozo, not truly a human, but there had been a kind of strange comfort to the loneliness. Now, she just felt like a freak, a chick with a dick. Such things weren't unheard, even here on the shiny Core systems, but to walk around with it hanging and flopping so brazenly, so openly…it made others stare at her and then glance away, wanting to look at the sideshow but not wanting her to look at them.
Samus had been in rooms with a lot of puffed up, self-important, overly arrogant military types in her life, guys who thought they owned every room they walked in, until she was there too. Even some of them had looked down their noses at her, until she showed she was as good as the stories, and there were worse things, monsters that looked at her like a quick meal or a dangerous impediment to be removed. But she'd never had an ordinary woman look at her face with a pleasant if banal expression on her face, and then have that woman's gaze drift down Samus' front and turn to shock, horror and disgust, before grabbing the wrist of her young son and yanking him away.
"Don't look at it, Tony, don't look!" The woman hissed, practically dragging her son away. And that was one of the more polite responses Samus got. People leered at her openly, assuming anyone who would flaunt her tits, ass and cock all at the same time was some kind of pervert or sex maniac, flagarantly trying to attract attention for her own disgusting needs. She felt embarrassed and ashamed, yet her body was reacting strangely, her package twitching inside the tight embrace of her suit, with a thrill racing through her body. It was the kind of sensation Samus had never felt, not just the physical sensation of her sensitive penis rubbing against the soft material of her suit, feeling her foreskin curl up over the leaking tip, but mentally as well-Samus Aran wasn't a woman who did things that were morally wrong for the fun of it, she wasn't a bootlicker but she followed most rules of polite society like everybody else.
Yet now she was taking a distinct and distinctly perverse kind of pleasure with each look of disgust, disdain, anger, fear, shock, pity, and mocking laughter that hundreds of strangers sent her way. That wasn't all, either. With each step she took, Samus could feel liquid leaking out of her dick, getting trapped in between her suit, sticking to her dick and balls, sloshing around quietly, and then louder and louder as more of the tacky, hot, sticky liquid dripped out. Samus began walking even faster, deliberately taking hard, aggressive steps, not so much walking as stomping her way forward, putting her shoulders forward and her head down. It helped move people out of her way and took her mind off the sounds of her own dick juices trapped in her suit, but that only worked when there was room, something Samus quickly ran out of .
"Ah, shit." She muttered, realizing her path led to one route, and one route only. A mag-lev train leading into the more packed areas of the city, where horizontal space gave way to vertical and every building had a hundred floors minimum, with open air concourses and covered glass bridges replacing what would be a busy ground street on most other planets. A thought occurred to Samus as the train doors closed, sealing her in with hundreds of other people just going about their lives, a thought she'd had about her targets before, her enemies, and, only in incredibly grim situations, about herself as well.
Nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.
That was usually when she came out swinging…and even the thought of that word made Samus frown in self-loathing. Swinging was right, as the mag-lev train had little sway or tilt, but the people inside did, talking to one another, leaning and standing and pushing and pulling at one another, a sea of people that moved in waves, all the tiny adjustments people made forcing them closer together. Before she'd even realized it had happened, Samus was squished between two people, each standing behind her. She'd entered the train at the last second so she could get out first, but now she was just pushed against the door.
Samus was strong enough to push them back if she wanted, but that would inevitably lead to more motion in the crowd, and the push-back might lead to even more people leaning against her. The jostling made her front push up against the door, her tits squished against the windows, nipples suddenly very hard. Her dick was so slick inside her suit now, naturally lubed by her own juices, and to her shame, Samus' pussy was dripping as well, her body sexually aroused by her tight situation and the natural movements of her dick inside a soft, warm, wet container. It felt so good , the kind of base primal physical pleasure that Samus almost never took part in-she didn't drink or smoke any sort of mood or body altering chemicals, and the only pills she ever took were high-dosage painkillers to keep her body moving when a normal person's would have failed twelve times over. Even food was usually regimented and dull for Samus, focused on fueling her body and not pleasing her taste buds. The bounty hunter had never masturbated a day in her life, but now.
"Mmmhm" She moaned, quiet and tight-lipped as she could, trying will herself into silence, but unable to keep it completely bottled up. Once she started, she couldn't stop, a quiet series of noises that rang loud in her own ears, and ones she prayed no one else would notice. It wasn't that long before her exit, Samus just needed to hold things together and-
The train lurched, due to a shift in the magnetic field, probably caused by nearby high outputs in electricity. The crowd moved with it, and Samus was suddenly pushed up against the door, hard. The people around her tried to step back, tried to steady themselves, but Samus had no choice but to brace her hands on the door. Her dick surged with a powerful, all-consuming feeling and suddenly…she came, hard, her blue-green eyes squeezing themselves shut.
"Mmm…ooohhh, ahhh~!" Samus gasped, unable to fight the pleasure. Pain she could handle, but pleasure she had much less experience with. Her cock stiffened, harder than she'd ever felt it, and the crotch of her suit suddenly went dark as three, four, five ropes of cum shot out of her cock. She was soaked, feeling the jizz just sit there in the suit, trapped inside, coating her balls and dick even as she tried to step back, another, final, gross, worm-like squirt of cum came out. The worst part was, her balls didn't feel a drop lighter, quite the opposite. After coming so hard, her dick felt more sensitive than ever, and even the way her foreskin rubbed against the suit made Samus moan so loud her lips actually parted, forming a tight perfect little 'O'.
"Heheheheh." Wicked laughter filtered through the crowd as the train righted itself and Samus was able to back up. She braced herself with one hand, dropping the other to cover her crotch, but it was too late.
"Holy shit! That bitch just creamed herself!" A shocked voice, low and muttering but still obvious to the train.
"What a sick fuck." High-pitched, formal tones, a woman of wealth and sophistication who now looked at Samus like she was dung stuck to her shoe. Samus had broken bones for less, but right now she just felt humiliated, like she wanted to crawl into a hole and just jack off until she passed out.
Wait, what?! That hadn't been where she thought that was going, but once she thought it, the mental image refused to leave Samus' head. To just give in to this need, this aching desire pumping through her brains. Maybe if she did it enough times, she would feel relief, and even if she did not, at least it would feel good.
No, she had to be strong. When the doors opened a few minutes later that felt like years to Samus, she ran out of the door, nearly tripping over her own two feet. Samus Aran didn't run from anything, when she encountered a more powerful enemy she made a tactical withdrawal, always controlled, always measured and precise, never panicked. But once she could get out of that train, away from her shame, she ran like a frightened little girl. Of course, that only made things worse-each hurried step made Samus' balls shake and jostle in her suit.
Unbeknownst to Samus, as she was far too embarrassed and ashamed to look down, her suit was acting like the condom she had once considered it to be. A big fat, sloshing, disgusting bubble of cum was sticking out in front of the suit, wobbling with each step. It might as well have been a big, bright red exclamation point at the tip of Samus' cock, screaming for everyone nearby to look.
Samus almost cried tears of joy when she arrived at the clinic, which was located in far too busy a part of time for her liking. She'd wanted discreet, but the kind that hid in a back alley, not the kind that squatted on a public street and then locked its patients files behind more encryption than most military servers. Samus hurried inside, her steps different now than the confident angry stride she'd had before, now she tried to minimize herself, shoulders in, head darting about to make sure no one was looking her way.
Inside, someone was looking dead-center at her, a tiny little woman behind the desk, humanoid but with bright green skin and four eyes in her head. All four widened as she saw Samus walking into the clinic, trying to hold her hands in front of her body which only drew more attention for how odd a stance it was and how it pushed Samus' large, bouncing tits together, smushed between her biceps.
"I have an appointment." Samus said, the first words she'd spoken directly to another person since leaving the asteroid. Her voice came out strange to her own ears, strangled slightly, clearly trying to hold back some sort of emotion and failing.
"Ah yes, you must be-" The receptionist was much better at sounding normal than Samus, even though they both knew what she was looking at.
"Voice, Virginia Voice, that's right." It was a fake name, but if anyone ever found out about this, Samus' reputation would take a permanent hit, and one it might never recover from. If only she'd been able to wear her armor-it was more recognizable than Samus' face, but she could have opaqued her visor, given the suit a quick coat of paint and vanished into anonymity. Samus wasn't used to looking at people with her bare face at the best of times, to say nothing of when she had a swinging dick between her legs.
"Well, looks like the doctor will be ready for you shortly, if you'd like to use the restroom to freshen up." The receptionist pointed towards a clearly marked sign, but Samus just shook her head, hair swishing about her face in a frenzy.
"No, that's really ok, I'd just like to see the doctor as soon as I can, so if it's all the same, I'll wait here until he's ready, or maybe I can just go on in and wait in a smaller room, maybe, pl-"
The receptionist's tone suddenly went formal and firm, almost rude, the kind of voice a person took when they were protected by a desk and layers and layers of societal pressure, hiding their personal private self behind the machinery of their jobs.
" Sir, " the green woman said, her skin turning an ugly shade of purple that Samus understood the meaning of without knowing any particulars of her species. Her ego stung at the term she used for her, but she couldn't deny it might be considered apt.
"You have a large bubble of semen in the front of your…fetish wear. Are you quite sure you wouldn't like to freshen up? If only for the benefit of those of us who have to look at you?" Samus could have throttled her in any other situation, but instead she lowered her head like she'd been chastised by a terrifying lecturer, and for the first time in years, she felt hot tears almost come streaming down her face.
"Right, yes. I'msosorry." Samus muttered, before she turned and hurried to the restroom. Samus Aran was the most dangerous woman on this or any other planet, and she'd just let a glorified answering machine scold her. She didn't know what was worse, that no matter what else happened, that woman would think of her as some intersex freak, or possibly a man with a terrific set of tits, or that some small part of Samus had been turned on by her tone, the way she glared at Samus, wanting to yell at her for daring to make everyone else uncomfortable just by existing. Then her dick pulsed again inside her suit, and Samus knew what was worse…being turned on just by someone treating her poorly, especially someone who Samus could crush without a second thought.
Inside the bathroom, Samus rushed into a stall, slamming the manual deadbolt shut so hard the door nearly came off its hinges. She needed to get this jizz out of her suit, but she had no idea how to do that. If she tried to take the suit off, it would just spill everywhere, and trying to wipe it off, to clean her dick, would probably just make her hard all over again. If she showed her face in front of that receptionist with a raging boner in her suit, the other woman was liable to spit on Samus face…and just then, Samus would have let her, and probably thanked her for the treatment, it was no more than she deserved.
So Samus reached down, touching the bubble of cum, feeling it slosh inside her suit. It was so loud, such a wet, disgusting noise that made her think of insectoid slime, the way giant maggots burrowed great warrens in certain planets, the way it felt to see parasites enter a host and alter it from within. Samus eyes crossed as she massaged the nasty, engorged bubble, feeling it surround her penis in a hot, wet rush.
"Oh gawddd…" Samus said, disgusted with herself and utterly mortified. She was a big, powerful woman, and she'd never felt so small. She had to adjust the sperm bubble, slowly carefully, each touch liable to make her balls swell up with a fresh, disgusting batch. On some level, Samus knew this would only get worse until it got better, and that maybe getting a nasty load of cum out of the way would help, but the thought of it still filled her with too much shame to seriously consider.
She had to settle for pushing it in two directions at once, smoothing it out. First it sloshed down over her pussy again, getting stuck at the bottom of her suit and tenting the crotch out a little. Samus had a sick and horrible thought, just for an instant- could I get myself pregnant?- before she banished it, the very thought just too horrible. Finally, she had no choice, the receptionist had sent her in here to freshen up and pass the time waiting for the doctor, but if she was in here too long she would only seem more disruptive, more unusual, more unwanted , wasting everyone's time with her degenerate body. Samus squished and pushed the jizz around, spreading it out, feeling it coat her thick thighs, feeling it back up over her tiny pink asshole in a way that made her tongue stick out lewdly, momentarily dazed by the unusual sensation. It soon coated her fat, bouncing asscheeks, and then her inner thighs, her shaved, smooth pelvis, as though spreading out as thinly as possible, drop by drop, until Samus thought it might coat her entire body like a second skin. That was impossible, of course-Samus had cum a lot, but not enough to cover her whole body, that would take multiple loads, teased out of her big, fat, hanging nuts with all the skill and experience of a trained whore…not that she wanted that.
Samus walked out of the bathroom a bit later, trying to take simple, calm steps, feeling the jizz almost everywhere on her body. She imagined it was making a sound, like a lewd dildo all oiled up and ready to be shoved up some poor woman's pussy, squeaking with each step, a walking, six foot three sex toy that used to be the greatest bounty hunter in the galaxy and now was a nasty train pervert who got her kicks from being shamed by her betters…which was just about everyone.
Such dark, ashamed thoughts clung to Samus' mind just as the stench of hyper-potent futa jizz was wrapped around her like a warm blanket. The receptionist cleared her throat when she saw Sams, pointedly looking at her crotch and then looking back up at Samus' face with an expression that said Well, you did one thing right, you must not be a total retard, before she waved her in.
Samus sat on the medical exam table like a frightened child afraid of a needle. She wasn't, of course, but when the doctor seized her bicep and drew her blood, Samus still let out a low, hissing breath like she'd been struck. Her entire body was on edge now, more alert than ever and hyper sensitive.
"Well, I will have to thoroughly analyze your blood, Miss Voice..it is Miss, yes? Only I notice-"
"Yes, it's miss! Miss Aran-I, I mean, Miss Voice! That's my name, ok?!" Samus was almost pleading with him, her eyes bright and frightened. Please believe me, even though you know I'm a filthy little liar her face seemed to shout.
"Well, I'll put a rush on it, but seeing as how I have no samples to compare it to, either of your blood or this…what did your message say it was, an artificial retrovirus?" The doctor's tone conveyed that he didn't believe her in the slightest. A sallow, tall man, he reminded Samus of a particularly condescending coat hanger come to life…and she felt a fresh bout of shame when she realized he was no doubt appraising her with an even harsher view.
"Yes, it was a virus. It infected me…it changed me. Please, I just want to go back to normal, please." Samus almost reached out to try and touch his arm, to convey how deeply she needed help, but one look at his face told her he would recoil in disgust if she even tried it…he might even kick her out if he was feeling particularly cruel. Once again, Samus was at the mercy of people who would normally treat her with respect or even reverence, and it made her whole ego and sense of self-worth crumble to see how they thought of her now…because aside from their derision, the worst part was Samus felt the same way.
"Uh-huh. Well, just pay at reception and I will contact you when I've isolated the unique genome. Do please wash your hands before you leave, and try not to touch any surfaces on your way out."
"Y-yes…sir." Samus said, the honorific just leaving her mouth unbidden. She would pay any amount of money to make this all stop, but money was the least of it. Samus was paying, and would continue to pay in her reputation, her self-respect, the social capital she had once taken for granted as a desirable, conventionally attractive woman, all of it dripping away like the steady flow of ball-broth in her suit.
She hurried out, swiping her electronic payment fob so fast at the receptionist's desk that it didn't go through the first few times, until Samus took a few shaky, unsettled breaths and swiped it again. The desk's light turned green, and the receptionist turned away from her, thanking her for the payment and busying herself with something else. Samus wasn't even worth looking at in disgust anymore, and clearly the woman wanted to forget she'd ever been there.
Samus hurried out, mind racing. She needed to get back to her ship, her ship was safe, her ship was home. Her arms crossed as she thought, squeezing her biceps. To get back to her ship, she'd have to take the train again, or risk walking along the winding paths. Less people, but for such a long distance, who knew what might happen. So to take the train, Samus needed one thing first.
"No pants? What do you mean, no pants?!" Samus said, her voice almost rising to a shout-but she couldn't risk shouting. Shouts brought stares, and stares brought shame, and shame…oh, it made her body absolutely hum with need.
"I'm sorry miss, but this boutique is for the fashionable woman with more time than money, and plenty of class to boot. We do not sell pants, pants are for men and…athletes." The saleswoman made the word sound like a slur. She was nearly Samus' height, though a lot of that was her heels, and a good ten kilos lighter, draped in clothes that seemed like decorative curtains tied to her wrists, ankles and draped across her body like an ancient toga. Her hair was the color of metal and her eyes seemed to cut through Samus so forcefully the bounty hunter thought they might be artificial photoreceptors.
"Fine, whatever, I'll take…this skirt." Samus grabbed at the closet skirt like a drowning woman reaching for a life preserver. She yanked it off the rack nearly hard enough to break the hangar and began hurrying to the changing room. The woman called after her.
"You must purchase any items before you put them on, miss." She said this like it was witheringly obvious, and only a simpleton wouldn't know. Samus looked at her in dull surprise, not believing her but too tired to argue much.
"What, but…how could a person know to buy it if they didn't try it on first?" Samus hair had come loose in her frenzied pace, and a few strands hung in front of her face. She tried to blow them out of the way, but like everything else during this horrible day, they refused to cooperate.
"No miss, you misunderstand. You must purchase any items before you put them on. The…singular you." Some small part of Samus took comfort in the fact that a woman like this would have been this condescending to a military woman like Samus anyway, but she still wanted to rearrange her face.
"Fine, fine, what the fuck ever." Samus said, finding her payment fob and throwing it to the woman, who caught it and held it at arm's length like Samus had just tossed her a ball of mud.
The skirt was long, draping down across Samus' knees, and a nice, soothing pink color that clashed with her zero suit, but Samus couldn't care less. It covered her bulge and that was all she needed. She had absolutely no idea how to walk in something like this, and she didn't bother. She left the changing room's curtain open, barely able to look at herself in the mirror. The saleswoman was waiting, and she handed Samus back her payment fob. Samus noticed she was now wearing tight, synth-rubber gloves rather than handle the device with her bare skin.
Samus left in a hurry, taking a few deep breaths. Things would be different now, she could wait for a mostly empty train, sit by herself, and then wait in her ship. Maybe contact someone about the dead scientist and see if she could get a partial bounty, or just take some of those painkillers she had aboard and drift off into sleep, that sounded absolutely wonderful right now and-
"Repeat, this footage appears to be of famed bounty hunter, Samus Aran. However, it is not been confirmed at this time, though the local Federation garrison has been contacted. Samus Aran once worked for the Federation police, but resigned under mysterious circumstances. It's possible her recent behavior may shed some light on this. We do warn our younger and sensitive viewers that this footage may be disturbing."
It was a news screen, where a caster-droid (almost nobody hired real people to read the news anymore) was opining about Samus Aran's behavior on a crowded mag-lev train. Samus tried to turn away from the screen, but there were more nearby, always more everywhere she looked. Normally there would be a few playing news and the rest showing ads, but there was a bright yellow banner under the footage that said 'Breaking News: Famous Bounty Hunter Engaged in Lewd Behavior on Kurnos 5'.
The footage was damning enough, but the banner was worse. Samus realized what it meant by the details of the newsdroid and the background of the banner-this wasn't local, planetary news. This feed was many systems wide, originally picked up by the planet's sensors and already packaged and sold off to a larger comms network. There were millions of people on this planet, and tens of millions more watching, as the footage would be spread, and shared, and saved, and studied. Samus nearly threw up as she watched.
She had been embarrassed enough living through her actions on the train, but watching it was somehow worse. All the things Samus had thought, had felt, her desire not to make a spectacle of herself, fighting as hard as she'd fought anything not to cum, not to make noise…all of that was gone. The woman on the train didn't show any of that. The cameras zoomed in on her face, which was flushed an indecent red, with dripping sweat down her features. She was grinding against the door, her big, puffy areolas and rock-hard nipples visible through the lewd, bright blue skin-tight suit she wore. She wanted to be seen, wanted the people around to rub against her-with an ass so fat, how could she not?
Samus felt the blood rushing through her head, pounding in her ears. The footage had multiple angles, shown in an ever-changing array, on a loop. Her tongue stuck out as the train lurched, and the woman on the train seemed to be humping the air. She licked her lips, her eyes heavily lidded, clouded by desire and an obvious, obscene pleasure. It was too much for Samus to watch, enduring it had been bad enough but the thought that people all over, everywhere were watching this right now, mocking her, laughing at her, no doubt jerking and rubbing and grinding and humping and fucking each other all to footage of this, the deadliest woman in the galaxy reduced to a crotch-rubbing, clothes-jizzing, tongue out, ahegao faced train pervert…it was too much.
The air felt cool on Samus' face, like a fresh breeze after being stuck inside her ship for weeks. She realized what had happened only too late-she'd blacked out, slipping into a haze of lust and shame only to come to (pun very much intended) after having rubbed herself off to another embarrassing, overwhelming orgasm. This time, she was by a restaurant, several blocks from the boutique, blocks she had no memory of walking. Samus realized she was flush with the glass, which could be polarized as needed, displaying any kind of weather the people inside wanted, or important newscasts, or simply showing them the world outside.
In this case, they were all staring at the stacked, tall, gorgeous woman who had just been grinding her dick against the windows. Samus looked down and saw that her skirt was pushed up, flush with the glass as her dick slowly went limp in her pants, for the moment. She'd orgasmed again, without even knowing it, one so powerful it had made her mind cut out. Her body felt weak, like she'd just ran ten klicks in a jungle world.
Inside the restaurant, everyone was staring at her, but not just staring. The initial shock of Samus Aran, sexual freak show had passed. The footage had seen to that, and now people knew what to make of her, they all understood the appropriate response without ever having to be told. They pointed at her, as if she needed help being singled out, and they laughed. The glass was supposed to be sound-proof, but with her body up against it, Samus could actually feel their laughter, vibrating through her body. Her nipples went stiff again and it took every ounce of dwindling willpower to push herself off from the glass.
Their laughter followed her as Samus ran away, not knowing which direction she was going, hearing it echo in her head, louder and louder. It crescendoed and fell apart, building back up again like a terrible symphony, each time with new voices mixed in-the newsdroid, speculating as to exactly what kind of crime Samus Aran would be charged with, the woman in the boutique donning gloves to better distance herself from Samus' invisible but obvious contagion, the receptionist who called her 'Sir' with the same scorn Samus used to discuss Space Pirates, the people on the train who were turned on by her lewd display, the doctor who was going to make a fortune off this freak but still wouldn't give her any respect or compassion.
For the second time that day, Samus ran, a panicked, frenzied action, like a prey animal fleeing a predator. She nearly tripped a dozen times, careening into people, into walls, just trying to get away. Samus Aran was faster than the fastest human alive, able to sprint at more than forty-five kilometers per hour.
Yet, as she rushed back to her ship, operating on instinct as much as she was consciously tracing her steps, Samus realized that she could not escape her shame, or what she had become. Running so fast made her tits wobble in her suit, nearly hitting her in the face, and her ass jiggled in the kind of exaggerated, built for slow motion kind of undulating waves that porn watchers everywhere saw in their wet dreams. Even her dick bounced against her thigh, balls actually slapping her own body over and over again in an off-beat tattoo. Samus didn't realize how much she had come before, or how packed the suit was with jizz, which was now oozing out of tiny holes in the costume.
The entire suit was a sealed environment, wrapping her from toes to fingers to neck, but her speed, her frenzy, the things she bumped into put small holes into, holes which leaked her off-white, sticky, pungent spunk behind her with every step. Bits of it even rode up, propelled by her motions to the only easy exit her suit provided-her collar, meaning Samus had soon given herself a lewd, nasty pearl necklace made of her own jizz. It took all her will to keep moving, because Samus knew, down in the smallest part of her heart, that if she stopped running, even for a moment, it would only be to tear her suit off and jerk off right then and there.
So she kept running, knowing that she would never truly outrun this.
To Be Continued…
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