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Desolation: The Violator

By Von Krieger

Stephanie sighed happily and unzipped her mandated jumpsuit, primarily blue with some yellow detailing and the large numeral '1691' on the back. As usual instead of performing her mechanical maintenance duties she'd slipped into a hidden alcove within the massive machinery that kept the vault working for the thousand or so of the vault's inhabitants.

She wasn't quite sure what the room was supposed to have been for, likely spare parts storage or something of the like. The metal door blended in with the surrounding machinery quite well and it was difficult to see until you were just about right on top of it in an essentially disused corner where one would only go to check that the water pipes were still intact.

She'd made it out to be her own little hidey hole, stealing furnishings from the massive storage bunker. The place was heavily locked down, from the outside, but she'd found a way in her cruelly assigned task of checking the pipes that were used for both the transport of water and the heating of the underground complex.

The original forty person population some hundred years before had quickly blossomed. Stephanie had seen the documents detailing some experimentation that had been going on with the vault's population, being the current Overseer's granddaughter and all.

Rather interesting stuff, of how there were certain additives in the water that had altered the genetics of the original population. The 3:1 ratio of women to men would be maintained, triplets were the norm, and apparently the human form had been altered somewhat to compensate.

It all seemed normal to Stephanie, she couldn't imagine what women would look like with only two breasts, nor could she imagine how unorganized and inefficient reproduction would be. Though none of the other vault dwellers knew, aside from the Overseer and his family, Stephanie thought that they would likely handle it quite well.

Ovulation and the like were suppressed on nearly all the women in the vault of prime child-bearing age. There were complex processes that the computer looked over before deciding which of them would be selected and the food and drink dispensers altered whenever they used them to distribute differing compounds.

The chosen one would start to slip into an extremely lustful state over a span of several days, then a week where she would be easily receptive to any offer of intercourse and be able to conceive. Then several days of cool down back to normal, and nine months of pregnancy.

The medical literature had been altered to reflect this as the normal state of things for human beings, though the Overseer's computer still held the original files. It had allowed Stephanie to realize just how inefficient and silly human reproduction had been outside of the vaults. Going out and trying to find just one man to spend the rest of your life with, having to work hard to prevent pregnancy if you just wanted a little intimate cuddling, and the potential of having pregnancy after pregnancy after pregnancy.

Though a few individuals were selected multiple times, most women in the vault would only have children once, occasionally twice. All the children were typically cared for by a cadre of citizens who enjoyed that sort of thing. Stephanie wasn't particularly interested in caring for a smelly, screaming bundle of joy, but she rather looked forward to experiencing the three week long period of heightened sexual need and the resulting nine months of increased sexual pleasure.

Stephanie lay back on the plush sofa that she'd stolen from storage. It had been freed from its vacuum-sealed plastic cover sometime in the past and used, but was stuffed back in, likely because of the rather hideous fabric pattern. Not much of a problem, as she'd tossed a bed sheet over the thing anyway.

With the majority of the population in their teens and above, and the vault being relatively low maintenance, there weren't too many tasks that needed to be done. Stephanie had taken the mechanical inspection job mainly because it allowed her to go into places no one else could, as well as being assigned one of the vault's portable computers.

The device was one of the older models, about the size of a paperback book, but a fraction of the thickness. Shades of lime green and gray were all that it displayed, but that was good enough for text, images, or audio. Vault 1691 lacked the video entertainment libraries that other vaults had, but while their connection to the vault monitoring network still functioned, her vault was among the top five percent according to the standardized tests.

Communication between vaults had always been limited, nearly always Overseer to Overseer. The first Overseer had concentrated upon her children, the second cared little for anything beyond the vault, never having seen the outside of it, the third had fixated upon the mining equipment at the bottom of the vault and had supervised expansion deeper into the earth.

The digging might have ruined something and the network connection was not worth repairing, or the network itself had failed. So the fourth Overseer, Stephanie's father, had never had the opportunity to use it.

Stephanie saw little point to it; it was merely words upon a screen. You couldn't touch words, couldn't hold them, or make love to them.

From the standards of the old world, Vault 1691's society would likely be called a lecherous pit of sin and sodomy. The original forty had been free of sexually transmitted diseases, and the computer-controlled fertility program assured that there would only be social consequences for the lovemaking of vault dwellers.

While the files didn't detail each and every genetic change that had gone into the population of Vault 1691, Stephanie was rather sure that increased libido had been one of them. The computer charted information on each child born within the vault. Her father likely didn't know that. Stephanie herself wasn't supposed to know that.

The Overseer and all his or her children could access the primary computer and the files within. After all, the position was a hereditary one. Each generation would have to be trained to manage the day-to-day, month-to-month, and year-to-year operations of the Vault, and no one could predict which of the children would have the best knack for it.

Stephanie knew she would not be the next Overseer; she didn't want the responsibility that came with the position. But she craved the power it came with, the secret knowledge. It was why she had abused every position she'd held within the vault.

She'd patched a data line into the main computer, running it to the air vent beneath her bunk, where she could browse the system's data to her heart's content without her father peering over her shoulder every few minutes to see what she was doing. The genetic research database had been hidden deep within the system using her great-great grandmother's passwords, which had taken some doing to figure out. The computer also controlled the security cameras, and thus with a few hours of squinting, Stephanie had managed to acquire the proper codes.

She loved knowing things that others did not, she adored having secret knowledge. The breeding program had resulted in two genetic lines crossing that were very strong for two particular traits, referred to only by numbers. Stephanie still hadn't found the corresponding codes, but in time she'd discover them. She wanted to know very much the three areas that the computer ranked her the highest in amongst every single person who had ever lived within the vault.

She was special, she was unique, and in time she would discover what destiny lay in store for her.

She'd started caressing herself several minutes before, one hand upon one of her perfect, plentiful breasts, the other buried within in panties, stroking her netherlips.

This was how Stephanie spent most of her time, her body filled with overwhelming lust. Sneaking made her horny, scheming made her horny, manipulation, hiding, lying, stealing things, breaking rules, it all made her horny. She was a subterfuge slut, and more than likely that was what the computer had coaxed into being when her mother had gone into an unprecedented spell of heat. There had been no warm up period, she'd gone from perfectly normal to growling and virtually tearing off the Overseer's jumpsuit in order to get to her partner's cock. She'd seen the security videos of her conception; she was the only one of her 'litter' to be sired by the Overseer, after all, and the two never had another coupling.

Her gaze darted to the screen of the portable computer, images displayed in sequence as lime upon black, images she'd saved as her particular favorites from a computer directory that had been password protected and encrypted. Files that were considered "potentially significant for the development of abnormal deviant sexuality," according to the old government.

The strange things she saw, monstrous, terrible, frightening, and yet so delicious, so sensual, so erotic. They were the reason she'd set up the covert data link in the first place. The constant presence of her father while she operated the computer made it impossible for her to masturbate while looking at the dark, majestic, demonic beauty that she'd discovered buried within the vault's files.

She licked her lips and arched her back, thrusting against her probing fingers. Just two more weeks, two more weeks of sexual servitude to her older half-sister and she'd consider what Stephanie wanted to be bought and paid for.

Cassandra had discovered something within the computer's files as well, and had managed to gather the proper tools for the process. A method of permanent marking, placing ink beneath the skin where it would remain; Stephanie couldn't wait until the dark spiky wings she imagined in her mind truly spread across the flesh of her back for real.

A pale imitation of the real thing that she craved, not merely inked horn and wings, nails painted black and filed to points for claws. The images of strange she-demons and the intriguing things they did turned Stephanie on more than anything. It had gotten to the point where she could cum just by seeing an image. Not merely her favorite image of a succubus, but the emblem tattooed upon her forehead, like a third eye placed in the vertical with eight curving tendrils oozing forth from its inner darkness.

As she brought the symbol to mind, it appeared upon the computer screen, as if by magic. She'd never drawn it, nor had she ever seen a rendition of the symbol in the data library, let alone added it to her computer pad. But there it was in its full glory, all curves and points. Eight lines, eight legs like a spider, legs wrapping around her body, caressing her, wrapping her soul in silken threads of darkness, lowering its abdomen, drawing closer and closer, a thin trail of fluid dripping from the end as it hovered closer and closer to her netherlips.

She'd never noticed it before, the lines around the central eye forming into a pattern that she had thought to be a representation of a twinkling star, but it did make the emblem look like something insectoid. With the head at the bottom where the three points formed and equilateral triangle, the forth extending far, like a dragonfly's tail. A tail that would bend around, the tip parting, something round and glistening slipping forth from it into her. Something wicked, something evil, something...

Something that made Stephanie cum harder than she'd ever had in her life.

It made her entire body tense and go rigid, her back arching almost painfully as she pushed up off the couch with her feet, cramming her fingers as deep into her sex as she could, the thick, hot juices of climax pouring from her in a virtual torrent.

In the mind-numbing surge of pleasure, there was a brief feeling of pain, and Stephanie swore she could almost hear a sizzling sound accompanying the momentary pain upon her forehead.

It seemed an eternity before she could regain control of her body, though she could do little more than pant, laying limb upon the sofa as she recovered from the exertion of the greatest sex she'd ever experienced.

She blinked her eyes and then noticed that the action felt funny, like it was pulling on a scab or a scar or something.

Stephanie stood, puzzled, and walked shakily to the mirror in the corner, a small one that she'd also stolen from storage. After all she didn't want to look too askance when she emerged from her hideaway.

She didn't have time to view the entire alteration before her knees gave out on her, an incredible climax washing over her body. There had been a marking upon her face, centered on her forehead, but extending up into her hair and down onto the bridge of her nose.

The sudden climax had been unexpected, but it hadn't been quite as strong as the one she'd felt a moment before. Stephanie pushed herself up, looking in the mirror, trying to fixate upon the black design that had mysteriously appeared.

And once more she dropped to her knees as pleasure overwhelmed her. She'd gotten a better look this time, but she couldn't be sure. She had to look, just one more time.

She stood; eyes closed, and lifted the mirror off its hook and walked back to the couch, taking a seat upon it before she opened her eyes again. A third sudden, violent, powerful climax rocked her body, and then a forth, and a fifth, and a sixth.

She fixed her gaze upon the mirror, resisting the urge to close them in climactic bliss, able to finally get a good look at exactly what had appeared on her forehead. It was as she'd thought, the very symbol that had been her obsession that did indeed drive her to climax on the spot. But it had never been like this.

She slipped her hand into her panties and began to frantically masturbate, her touch adding to the pleasure she felt when the rune forced her to cum. She locked her gaze upon the mirror, bringing herself to supreme ecstasy again and again and again. She didn't want to stop until her body could no longer take anymore.

She stared at the symbol, the beautiful, gorgeous, wonderful, magical symbol. At first it appeared like a tattoo, but as she admired it, as she climaxed more and more, it seemed to alter, the skin losing its texture, growing perfectly smooth and shiny.

When it seemed as if it were swelling, puffing outward, the skin beneath it swelling, Stephanie ceased her self-admiration, casting the mirror aside. Her jumpsuit was soaked, as if each climax had brought forth a new, fully stocked torrent of juices.

Her fingers pulled free from her sodden panties with a soft squelching sound, she began to lift her hand to her head to see if the swollen flesh was indeed real when she found another shock, her hand was coated in a strange sort of black slime. She looked down to find that the same substance saturated her jumpsuit, the black goo dripping from the legs as it was pulled down by gravity.

She stared at it in bafflement as it dripped down her arm, her skin stained a deep purple wherever it passed. Stephanie suddenly found herself sucking upon her fingers, finding the strange purple-black substance her body had expelled pleasant tasting. Before she could restrain herself, she'd licked her hand clean of the goo, though the deep purple stain upon her flesh remained. It seemed to have worked itself beneath her nails as well, turning them the deep black that Stephanie had always wanted them to be, but could never find the proper nail polish formula for.

A cold shudder ran through Stephanie's body, and the room suddenly felt... hostile, alien, unwelcoming. She felt her heartbeat begin to race and then she felt something brush against her back.

She stood and spun around; trying to find the source of the touch, but found nothing behind her. The touch returned, and there was more than one thing prodding her. She spun once more, and still saw nothing.

Frantic and fearful, she darted for the door, only to find herself suddenly restrained. She found herself lifted off the floor. Her gaze darted upward, where she found her assailants. They were like thick, black serpents, their color fading to purple near the tips. They were perfectly smooth, slick, and shiny. They opened their mouths and drooled a thick, black slime; the same slime that had coated Stephanie's hand and loins.

One curled around each of her wrists, pulling her arms back behind her head. What were the things? Had they been invisible before? Intangible? Were they the reason why Stephanie was always so horny? Hiding themselves away just out of her dimension, teasing her with their thick, slimy tongues, coaxing her to arousal, covering her body with their slime as they fed off of her pleasure. It made sense, it made so much sense.

Four of the creatures began to drool upon her breasts, licking and suckling upon Stephanie's four nipples. There were eight of them in total, and their lean, slimy, sinuous bodies all traced back in the same direction, somewhere behind Stephanie. Maybe it was one creature? Like some sort of demonic sex-octopus that clung to her back.

It seized the zipper of her jumpsuit with one tentacle-mouth and pulled it down further, giving it easy access to Stephanie's groin now that it was fully solid.

"No! Oh no!" she whispered, and then stopped talking as the remaining tentacle attempted to cram its tongue into her mouth. The tentacles seemed to be growing thicker as they toyed with Stephanie's breasts. She couldn't help but moan softly, they knew just how to caress her to drive her crazy.

The tentacle that had unzipped her pants was nuzzling up against her loins, which made Stephanie clench her legs tightly together. No way she wanted the thing inside of her. The thing stuck out its tongue and gave her a long, slow lick, running as much of the slimy length as it could over her clitoris.

It made her gasp, and this time she wasn't quick enough to prevent the last tentacle from entering her mouth. But it didn't, it merely thrust its tongue between Stephanie's lips, giving her a mouthful of the sweet tasting black slime. It wasn't really hurting her, nor was it being particularly forceful. The creature seemed almost playful in its touches.

The tentacles' lips were soft and smooth, feeling quite pleasant upon Stephanie's bare skin, and wonderful upon her own sensitive lips. The tentacle at her groin licked her again, a strange sensation filling Stephanie, an odd sensation of uncomfortable tightness mixed with arousal.

With each lick the strange tightness within her diminished, like a painful knot slowly and gently kneaded out of a stiff, aching muscle, except that in this case the muscle was somewhere in her groin. It felt odd, but good, and through Stephanie wanted nothing more than to escape the room, the atmosphere that she suddenly found foreboding a minute or two prior still remaining, if she was forced to remain trapped in the room by a tentacles, slimy-oozing creature, there were worse things she could experience than having her body kissed and licked.

She only wished her sisters were this skilled with their lips and tongues. Though lesbian relationships weren't exactly frowned upon, they were considered something for young women who were in the fires of their youth. If one's preferred male wasn't available, typically a girl would turn to her birth sisters, an identical twin or triplet if she had one, to aid her with her lust. Having only half-sisters, Stephanie didn't have a twin to turn to for her needs, but two of her big sisters were essentially the biggest sluts in the vault, so typically Stephanie went there where her own hands were not enough.

But if the creature stayed around, and it always made her feel this good, then Stephanie believed that she would have a new place to turn when she got horny. If it fed on sexual energy and arousal, after all, it would be more than eager to have a meal. That is if it didn't do anything weird or gross like try to lay eggs in her or something.

She relaxed, suckling upon one of the creature's tongues, somewhat enjoying her predicament at the moment. The tentacled mouths knew just how to kiss and lick her nipples to make them puff up and swell, making them even more sensitive. And the tongue lapping at her clit? If it made her feel this good through her panties, what would it be like upon her bare flesh.

The stubborn knot of tension within her loins continued to unravel, fading further and further with each wet, slimy slurp of the tongue over her nethers. After a minute or two, there was only the faintest hint of pressure, and it was a soft, slick sensation. The feeling of sensitive flesh moving over something familiar; like a fingertip pushing against wet cotton.

Stephanie turned her gaze downward, curious to what the sensation was, and she cried out in horror, her scream muffled by the tongue within her mouth. There was a quite noticeable tent in her panties, now stained black from the slime, one that grew with each lick that ran across it.

She watched, sickened, horrified, disgusted, yet curious at the sight of the potential cock between her legs. It felt good, no doubt about it, the creature's tongue over its length was a heavenly sensation unlike any she had ever felt before.

With each lick the obscene alteration grew, and grew, and grew. It was of such length as to begin to pull the waistband of her underwear from against her skin. The creature's tongue ceased lapping at it at that point, opening its lips wide and latching onto the cockhead, still with the barrier of Stephanie's panties between it and the still-swelling cock.

Stephanie wondered in this was what it felt like having your cock sucked. She could see why the guys craved it so badly. Her panties, tight to begin with, began to dig into her flesh, but rather than painful, the sensation seemed to enhance her pleasure as pressure was placed against her cunny and pucker.

She could see it now, see the slick, purple flesh of her cock. Her left hand twitched, trying to pull away from the tentacle holding it prisoner. She long to wrap it around her new shaft, to jerk it off like she'd seen a few guys do to her sister (who call it boo-ka-key, or something silly sounding). That was her first thought, her second was that she didn't want it in the first place, and the third was that she was rather disturbed at the order of the previous two. She couldn't see anything besides the color, the black slime that coated her cock, her panties, basically everything below her waist, made it impossible to see the shape of her new length, or if she had balls now.

Stephanie shoved those thoughts aside and began to struggle against the tentacles, biting down on the tongue within her mouth. It must've released some kind of venom, as suddenly Stephanie's mouth burned like she'd taken a bite of something laced with the hot pepper flakes that the food dispensers would produce on occasion if asked, often by mischievous children. But it worked, the tongue quickly withdrew and Stephanie turned her head, sinking her teeth into the tentacle holding her right hand hostage. She cried out as the pain was even more intense, but it was gone in an instant.

The tentacles holding her wrist had looped around a sturdy water pipe in the ceiling, holding her aloft that way, and one tentacle was not strong enough to do it. Stephanie fell, her legs underneath her to absorb the impact of falling three or four feet straight down. But the shock was too much for her already strained panties. They tore, freeing her cock, which promptly rammed itself right down the tentacle's throat.

That was too much for Stephanie to take, and the tentacle didn't like the sudden mass intrusion either, withdrawing, allowing Stephanie to catch sight of her erect organ or the first time as it climaxed.

It was strangely shaped, ovular with four round extensions growing off of it, like supports or something, two on top, two on the bottom. The four supports tapered off a few inches below the head, which widened at the sides and narrowed at the top, the purple length coming to a flattish point, like if you'd rounded the corners on your typical slotted screwdriver.

It tensed once more, and then erupted with a thick stream of ejaculate, the same think, black slime that poured from the tentacles. It spewed forth several feet from Stephanie, splattering onto the walls and floor.

She looked at it with wide eyed horror before she remembered what she was trying to do. She brought her hand down, parting the four tentacles from her nipples with audible pops. She turned her head, seeking to dislodge the creature that clung to her back, but found that it had somehow wormed its way beneath her jumpsuit.

A warm shiver went through Stephanie's body as she withdraw her arms from the suit's sleeves, the kissing tentacle forced itself back in her mouth, encircling her tongue, pulling on it forcibly, as if trying to suck it out of her head, but being far too underpowered to perform the task.

Stephanie tugged it away from where it blocked her view with her right hand and turned to get a good look at the beast that clung to her like some giant, slime-dripping tick. She wanted tear it from her back and throw it across the room where it would smash against the wall in a slimy, pulpy mess.

She turned her head, seeking to spy the body of the terrible thing that tormented her.

Only to find that there was nothing there.

The tentacles emerged, not from a central, rounded octopus-like body, but from the blackened, shiny skin of Stephanie's shoulder blades.

The tentacles were growing from her. The slime was being produced by her. The caressing, the fondling, the transformative licks that made her clit grow into a massive monstrous cock; all of it was caused by her own warped flesh.

She let out a whimper, and then suddenly her conscious mind was made aware of sensations felt upon the periphery of her thinking mind. She could feel the tentacles now, she could control them, move them around.

She had been horny, she had wanted to be stimulated in ways she had never felt before, she had always lamented her inability to caress her sex and all her breasts at once. She loved her sister's bondage games, loved being tied up and teased.

She had done it all to herself.

Stephanie shuddered and dropped to all fours and was violently sick. It was not breakfast, lunch, the soda she'd drunk on the way to her hideaway that came up, but rather the same thick, gooey, sweet-tasting black slime that seemed to pour from every opening; from her cunt, from her cock, from each of her eight tentacles and now from her own mouth.

Her tongue lolled from her mouth, having been expelled when she'd heaved up the slime. It now lay in the puddle that was spreading across the floor faster than the fluid ought to. It hung the foot and a half distance from her mouth with an extra six inches lying upon the floor. The tentacle hadn't sucked her tongue from her head, but it had done something to it, transforming it into an obscene parody of itself.

Stephanie was sick again, the black slime spreading over the floor at a rapid rate. She turned away from the puddle, closing her eyes, drawing her tongue back into her mouth with a long, obscene slurp. She curled her tentacles around herself, backing into a corner, facing it, her arms wrapped around her knees as she shook, terrified, frightened, not knowing the slightest of what was going on. Tears trickled down her face, and from their thick texture, she could tell that they too had become the black, revolting slime.

The room suddenly no longer felt sinister or alien, and as Stephanie turned to look, she could see why.

The floor, the couch, and most of the walls and ceiling had all been stained black. The goo that oozed from her had seemingly seeped into it, altered it just a bit. Stephanie stood and walked over to the couch. She ran her fingers over it, finding the plain cotton sheets had become slick and smooth, like latex.

She pulled at it, and as she expected the sheet did not come free of the couch. It had bonded to the couch, which was no longer foam and springs. It felt like pure foam as Stephanie sat down upon it, it was soft and provided hardly any resistance until it supported her full weight. It felt so snug and comforting, more natural than any seat upon which Stephanie had sat before. The smooth, slick, silken feel of what the fabric had become felt so natural and comforting against the bare skin of her back.

She looked down at her jump suit, which had also turned sleek and black. If she didn't prevent them from doing otherwise, her tentacles kept trying to go for her nipples. She tore off the remains of her panties and tossed them aside, zipping up her jumpsuit to prevent temptation.

It was a tighter fit than normal, far tighter. It clung to her like a second skin; it felt so soft and comforting against her bare skin. She leaned her head down and rubbed her cheek over the altered fabric at her breast, as if it were a security blanket.

It had altered to fit her perfectly, slits in the back allowing her tentacles to extend from them. She didn't want to think, didn't want to acknowledge the alterations that had been strangely thrust upon her, she didn't want to ponder where they had come from or what they meant.

She closed her eyes and snuggled up on the altered sofa. Her tentacles began to lick her softly, gently, with comforting, rather than lustful intentions. Stephanie felt like a cat grooming itself, she giggled and let out a purr that turned into a half-hysterical sob. She didn't want the tentacles licking her like that, but it felt so nice and comforting.

She sighed and scratched her face, only it didn't feel right. Her chin and lips felt strangely smooth, lines of smooth, rubber-like flesh lead up to her eyes, where it continued up onto the brand upon her head. Running her fingertips over it felt good, almost sexual. So Stephanie stopped it immediately and looked to the other oddity.

The skin of her left hand was no longer stained the dark purple that the slime had left. It had truly become dark purple, slick and shiny, her nails were in the process of altering themselves into small claws.

Her right hand was still perfectly normal, free of the slime's corrupting influence. The little finger on her left hand was smaller than that of her right, the other fingers slightly larger to compensate.

She was turning into something, metamorphosing into some sort of monster. The slime she leaked transformed her environment into something more suited for her monstrous self, the normal world feeling terribly frightening to her. The thought of walking out into the corridor just outside her hidey-hole made her whimper softly in fear. She needed to remain within her protective bubble, her cocoon, until she was ready to mature as some sort of hideous monster. She didn't want to be a monster, but she couldn't bring herself to get up from the couch and step into the corridor.

There wouldn't be anything they could do for her, this sort of thing wasn't present in any of the medical texts, and Stephanie had never even heard of anything similar to what was happening to her occur at any time in Vault 1691's history.

Even now, even with her face still recognizable, they'd probably shoot her. The security patrols had guns, after all, and though they hadn't ever fired them except on the range, odds are they wouldn't hesitate long to pump the black and purple, slime-spewing horror full of lead.

Not caring that her tears would slowly leech away the humanity from her face, Stephanie began to cry again. Her tentacles coiled around her torso, hugging her, caressing her, snuggling with her. She opened her mouth, accepting one of them inside of it. It engulfed her tongue, curling its own around hers.

She could feel both halves of the kiss, but her tentacles weren't entirely a part of her, they seemed to have primitive drives and instincts that acted upon her subconscious mind. They were so comforting, so right.

Even if Stephanie made it out, even if they could find a cure, she wouldn't want to get rid of her tentacles. They were so useful, so fun, they felt so good. They were what she had always wanted. They would make her job as a mechanic so much easier; they would aid her so very much in self pleasure, and...

Stephanie found herself smiling just a little bit. Her tentacles leaked their black slime as she wondered what it would feel like to use them to pleasure others. To slip one into her sister's snatch, to engulf their boyfriend's cock with one (Stephanie and her two birth sisters shared the same boyfriend, as was custom), and still having half a dozen more to pleasure them with.

Her smile vanished; there was no way she'd be able to leave the room like this, still mostly human. And even if she did, they most certainly wouldn't accept such a malformed creature into their bed. Especially not if the slime had the same effect on other people as it did on Stephanie's own flesh.

She tucked her right hand beneath herself, where no slime would be able to get to it. She cleared her mind and concentrated upon the pleasant sensations of the tentacles, focusing on the one within her mouth, suckling upon it like a baby upon a bottle as she drifted into a light doze, not truly sleep nor consciousness, thankfully.

For Stephanie did not want to dream.

-o-

She awoke several hours later feeling a bit better, calm and relaxed. She sat up and stretched, her body feeling different. She immediately looked to her right hand, hoping that she'd retained some of her humanity, but she found the same purple-black skin, claws, and four fingered state that she'd seen her left hand becoming.

Her skin was like black and purple latex from head to toe. Somehow the slime-soaked suit that she'd been wearing the night before had bonded to her skin. She ran her fingertips over her wrist, where flesh and fabric ought to have parted, but there was not even the slightest hint of it.

It had become her flesh, her soft, smooth, sleek, shiny flesh. She could feel her fingertips running over it, it made her gasp, made her moan. Her entire body felt so sensitive; the slightest touch, rub, or caress would easily get her aroused if a mere brush of the fingertips could feel so good.

Her gaze drifted to the left, from her hand to her rounded midsection. Her eyes widened at the sight. She looked several months pregnant, her belly fat and round, protruding past her breasts, which was quite a feat, as they seemed to have grown while she slept.

Stephanie gave her belly a poke and found that it was soft, soft like a water balloon filled with something a touch thicker than water. The slime. She'd been sucking on one of her tentacles for who knew how long. It changed and altered her from the inside out. But... She didn't seem to mind.

She felt strangely apathetic about her transformation for some reason. Now that it seemed to be over, she didn't feel frightened anymore, no longer any fear of the unknown. She looked around the room for the mirror and found it missing. Though there was a silver place on the otherwise black wall where it had hung before.

Stephanie walked over to it, or tried to. She sprawled head over heels as she took her first step. Thankfully the slime-warped room's floor was soft and pliable. It still felt a little uncomfortable, but the fall was not painful.

The latex creature looked down at her feet, curious as to the disconnect between her brain and her body. Her knees bent the wrong way, and she had... she wasn't sure what to call them. The main bulk of her foot had two hard, solid bits that looked halfway between a hoof and claws; she had one smaller claw on each side, and then a single large, spike-like claw on her heel. It made her look rather like she was wearing one of the articles of clothing the fabricator placed in the 'recreational, fetish' category.

Her gaze shifted once more, moving from her feet/hooves to a place between them. She blinked her eyes and rolled over, rump in the air. She shooed her tentacles out of the way, as they too seemed curious about the new addition, trying to get up close and 'see' it, despite their lack of eyes. After some concentration to get her tentacles to the side, Stephanie could see the new addition onto her body; a tail. It looked almost like just another one of her tentacles, save that it grew from the base of her spine and ended in a broad, spade shape rather than a mouth.

Stephanie smiled and reached up, running her fingers through her hair, finding what she had hoped to discover. They were small now, located just behind her temples, but they were still horns.

She licked her lips with her tongue, finding that her canine teeth had grown a little bit and were a touch pointier than before. Extending her tongue to its full length she saw that it had become smooth, shiny, purple, and forked. Rather than saliva, the black slime filled her mouth.

Stephanie had wanted this, not exactly this form, but she had wanted to be like the demons in the art and literature, powerful, beautiful, bestial, different from everyone else; unique.

She covered the sigil upon her forehead with one hand as she took to her feet once more, taking a few tentative steps and getting used to the way her body moved. It almost flowed; her movements smooth, graceful, fluid.

She gasped softly as she looked upon herself in the mirror; her skin a pure black save for where the light struck it, reflecting as purple rather than white. The same shade of purple colored her hair, her irises circles of lavender adrift in pitch black pools. There seemed to be a rule to her coloration, the more sensitive the flesh, the brighter a purple it became.

Her lips and tongue were the same shade, her nipples brighter, her cock and tentacles going from black at the base to brilliant neon purple at the tips, the spade of her tail, wider than her head, was colored the same as her lips.

She could feel her cock stirring between her legs as she admired her reflection. She brushed her hair over to cover the bright purple rune upon her forehead, admiring herself as her taloned fingers encircled her generous shaft.

She suddenly turned away from the mirror, shuddering. This was not how she ought to be behaving, she shouldn't be accepting her transformation, shouldn't be complacent with her altered form, and most definitely should not be jerking herself off to her own reflection.

She wasn't terribly monstrous, she looked... beautiful in an exotic, strange, sex-toy way. She didn't think anyone would be afraid of her. She no longer felt terror at the possibility of leaving her... Nest. She would just have to be careful and try not to get her slime on anybody.

She could get help, maybe have some of the process reversed. It couldn't possibly be anything brand new, totally unheard of before in the entire history of the world. The doctors would be able to help her.

Stephanie took a deep breath and went to the door, which despite its transformation into a kind of latex-like substance; it still opened the normal way, with a tug on the handle. A breeze seemed to blow past Stephanie, the room apparently over pressurized and the warm air rushing out to equalize it with the air outside.

The latex demoness felt the chilly air of the corridor wash over her naked body. She let out a little moan as she felt her nipples stiffen. She felt her mouth begin to fill with slime, her tentacles beginning to drip as well. Her cock, which had gone half flaccid, quickly returned to full erection, a soft ache had also begun to build within Stephanie's loins.

She stepped out into the hallway, feeling the odd fear and discomfort enter her. The metal corridor felt wrong to her, unnatural. It was all wrong; 'it shouldn't be like that' was what her body told her. But her mind could see that it was just the normal hallway filled with pipes that she went through every day.

She took a step forward, her tentacles stretching so that they touched a wall on either side. The touch helped ease her fear, she could feel the boundaries of the hall on two sides, and with two tentacles reaching up, and the spade of her tail brushing against the floor, she could feel it on two more.

The demoness closed her eyes and took a step forward, the uncomfortable chill of the vault made her shiver. No wonder everybody wore the jumpsuits without complaint, without one it was downright freezing in the mechanical areas.

Moving like that, slowly, eyes closed with each step, tentacles and tail reassuring her of her position, Stephanie moved to the area where the small corridor connected with a larger, wider hall.

She turned the corner, whimpering softly, reaching out with her hand and her tentacles, trying to touch the opposing wall, but it was several feet too far. She began to panic, to hyperventilate, her amethyst eyes darting all around, looking for somewhere to run, a small, cozy place to hide herself away in, a place where she be kept safe and secure from the cold, lifeless, frightening metal of what had once been her home.

Stephanie turned her head, looking behind her. Black slime oozed down and up the walls where she'd placed her tentacles, it spread across the floor where it had leaked from her two sexes. She would spread the black latex taint wherever she went, or where she dwelt for an extended period of time.

Her cock throbbed, almost painfully. It continuously oozed with the black goo, acting like precum. Stephanie wondered if the same black-purple stuff flowed through her veins, if she was nothing more than some sort of complex, self-aware delivery system for the darkness inside of her.

There was one sure fire way to find out. Stephanie gritted her teeth and clutched a pipe that she knew ran along most of the hallway, where it would turn 90 degrees and enter one of the rest rooms. She clenched her eyes shut and gripped the pipe, running as fast as her hooves would carry it.

Cold, dead, lifeless, hostile, alien, the oppressive feelings of the once mundane vault washed over her. Her body ached with each passing step, her muscles tensing in terror, the temptation to scream in terror and turn and flee back into her nest growing greater with each passing moment.

Just when Stephanie thought her heart would explode, the likely black latex muscle exploding from her chest, splattering the hallway in thick black slime, she felt the curve in the piping, and she turned, spinning to match it, slamming into the door at full speed with her shoulder, not caring about the pain that rocked through her as the simple push door flew on its hinges, slamming into the rubber-capped metal spring that served as a doorstop, making it thrum loudly with the impact as it shook.

Stephanie slammed the door shut behind her, twisting the lock closed. Her terror did not abate in the enclosed space. Cold porcelain, metal, tile, it all felt so wrong, so hideous, so unnatural to her.

She couldn't help it, she threw up again; once more a huge amount of slick, gooey blackness surging up from her belly, splattering all over the floor. With a second retch, she fully emptied the slime she had suckled from her tentacle while she had slept.

It was strange, expelling the goo from her gut didn't feel... Bad. It was strange, but it wasn't painful or uncomfortable like it ought to be. It didn't burn, so it wasn't acidic. How was she supposed to eat then? And what was she supposed to eat? She hadn't felt hungry, or thirsty, since her transformation began. And where was the mass for the slime coming from?

She was, as best she could tell, the exact same size that she had been as a human, but she was heavier. Her boobs were bigger for one, and she had nine new appendages, plus the slime that gushed forth from her at the slightest provocation; where did it all come from? She had produced enough to coat her nest. And why did she keep thinking of that room as her nest?

She crawled into the corner, watching the blackness spread over the floor of the room. It filled in the gaps between the tiles, sinking into porcelain and grout alike, creating a perfectly smooth surface.

Where it encountered something sticking up from the ground, it seemed to defy gravity, oozing upwards to coat the object in uniform blackness. Stephanie watched in fascination as it devoured the sink's drain pipe. It was almost like it was transforming the metal pipe into a living thing, a soft tube that served the exact same function.

Her twin sexes ached, demanding attention. But as the room altered, becoming an almost biological version of itself, Stephanie's need decreased. It was true; her entire existence seemed to be one of spreading the latex taint. Taking things slow and steady would mean she would spread the slime over the walls as she walked, altering them. Rushing into areas with no corruption would overwhelm her nerves, make her empty the store of slime in her gut, drive her to maddening arousal, forcing her to pleasure herself and erupt torrents of sticky blackness over her immediate area.

"I'm an infection." She whispered softly.

She batted one of her tentacles away from her cock, not wanting to add to the problem, not wanting to warp her real home to become twisted into a latex parody of itself through her actions.

Stephanie pulled herself up using one of the latexified sinks, the surface felt soft, but there was still some solidness to it beneath the surface. She twisted a round, spherical tap; the faucet undulated, as if it were using muscular contraction on top of water pressure to move the fluid within.

Thankfully what came out was the vaults cold, pure water, not the thick, vicious slime that seemed to have replaced everything within Stephanie's body. She cupped her hands and splashed the cold water on her face. While purely cold Vault water was rather chilly, against her latex skin it felt biting, painful.

She forced herself to gulp down several handfuls of water, and she felt her insides rebel at the chill, clenching up, tightening almost painfully. She doused herself with the ice cold water, banishing any traces of arousal from her loins and breasts, and sending her tentacles into a torpor.

The demoness splashed her face again, washing away her thick, slimy tears. She brushed her lavender hair back behind her elongated, pointy ears and raised her gaze from the sink to the altered mirror.

As with the one in her nest, the mirror became flush with the wall when the taint devoured it, merely a rectangular discoloration that was more reflective than the rest of the other latex.

She'd forgotten; forgotten what would happen if she happened to see her sigil. Her tentacles lashed out, shoving aside acoustic tiles to grip pipes on the ceiling to prevent Stephanie from falling, from dropping to her knees as her body erupted in spontaneous climax.

It was not merely her cock and cunt that gushed slime, muscles in her breasts that had never existed before seemed to tighten, to spew thin streams of slime, filling her gravid orbs with erotic pleasures that they had never known before.

Her tentacles went rigid, feeling just as her cock did as they expelled slime in thick, heavy jets. Her tongue lolled from her mouth, traitorous and with a mind of its own, wrapped itself around Stephanie's monstrous prick and aided the powerful pleasure brought on by the sigil-sight.

She couldn't turn her head, couldn't look away, all that she could do was close her eyes and block the sight of the emblem that had been burned into her head, into her heart, into her very being.

Stephanie opened her eyes, not caring what happened to her, merely allowing herself to be lost in the continuous pleasure as she saw no future for herself beyond what she had become. She existed to coat everything in slime, to transform it into a demonic aberration of itself.

So be it. She would do what likely some dark sorcery had recreated her to perform. She would cum until her tentacles could no longer hold her bodyweight and keep her positioned in front of the mirror.

It felt so good; she was rewarded so well for performing her task as best she could. With her enhanced, over-sensitive body, with eight extra erogenous zones to feel the pleasure, it topped her earlier mirror-gazing masturbation period as the greatest, most intense physical sensation of delight in her life.

Was she even alive anymore? She was made of rubber, plastic, and slime. Everything fluid in her body was slime, her tears, her saliva, her milk, her stomach acid, her precum, her cum, everything.

She was slime; that was all she was, that was her only purpose now. To cover the world in slime. There was no need for a person behind it all, a consciousness, just a never-ending leaky faucet of demonic goo.

Stephanie stopped closing her eyes after each climax, abandoning herself into the see of sinister, slimy bliss...

-o-

Stephanie sighed softly, happily, she was snuggled up beneath the covers, soft and warm. She was still a monster, still a latex, slime-dripping demoness, but it... It didn't matter anymore. She was at peace with it. She had accepted it, abandoned herself to the fate, and it seemed the process altering her body kept altering her mind as well once it shut down to the point where it could do some reprogramming.

She yawned, tongue tracing over her fangs, which had grown larger again. She pushed the covers off herself, wondering where she was. The room around her was pitch-dark, but she could still see. There was no light to reflect off anything, to make bright spots, and yet she could still see the smooth, black walls around her.

The room was dome shaped, about the size of her quarters many levels above her now. The bed beneath her was similarly hemispherical, with Stephanie placed atop it. Her covers were sheets of the same substance, and were actually attached to the bed.

The demoness sat up, her tentacles stirring. They were thicker than before, but not longer. Stephanie herself had grown. She looked down at her black latex body, finding that it was devoid of the perfect smoothness that she had been covered with upon her first few hours after her transformation.

Her body was well-muscled, strong, powerful. She had definition, and it was not merely cosmetic sculpting. She could feel the strong muscle beneath her skin. Though she was an oddity, though her body systems had been altered, though she was fed solely though a process she did not understand, she was alive.

The thought made her smile, a pleased sigh escaping her lips as her tentacles began to groom her, their tongues slathering warm, sweet slime over her body. She ran her hands over her beautiful, sleek, smooth skin, all four of them.

Once more she had changed while she slept. A second pair of arms had appeared attached at the bottom of her ribcage, perfectly identical to her first pair in every way. While they were no longer needed now that she had tentacles, Stephanie rather appreciated them, since unlike her eight odd appendages, they were perfectly under her own control.

Her cock had grown as well, its girth nearly doubling and nearly a foot added onto the last half of her length, above the still odd-looking 'supports.' She could move it around now, making it wriggle and twist just like her tentacles. It was an interesting development, and something she should have expected. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, admiring them.

Stephanie had never been particularly athletic; her build was what one would call wiry, though she had a great rack. But she'd never had much in the way of hips or butt. She was now rather curvaceous, something to make up for her initial fear and loathing of her new role, she suspected.

Each time she rejected her alterations, something was added that she had always wanted, something that almost made the transformations worthwhile. It felt good to be a demoness, the more Stephanie changed the better she felt.

She turned her head, curling her tongue around a tentacle to bring it to her mouth, suckling greedily upon it, coaxing the slime to flow.

She had performed her task to the best of her ability; she had served as a conduit to bring as much of the black goo as possible into her own dimension from another, or wherever it came from. Stephanie deserved some time off for her efforts; she deserved to be able to fully explore her new body without feeling fear, disgust, or hatred towards it.

So far the goo had taken only what she had been willing to give it. Beyond her role and the tentacles that had been forced upon her, and the cock, everything had been something that she had desired, or imagined wanting to experience.

She had a tall, powerful, shapely demonic form that was perfectly capable of drawing out the full potential of pleasure from itself.

Four heavy breasts adorned her chest, a thick, proud cock jutted from between her legs, a tight cunny just behind it. With four hands and eight mobile mouths and tongues tipping phallic shaped tentacles whose sensations rivaled those of her cock when stimulated, she would be able to do whatever she liked to herself. Her cock was even long and dexterous enough to slip between her netherlips; she could literally go fuck herself.

So she did; coaxing her dexterous length to curve around, to slip between her purple netherlips and penetrate herself fully. She let out a soft, pleasured hiss as her member slithered slowly upwards, growing closer and closer to her womb. It parted her cervix with little effort, inch after inch creeping into the very core of her feminine gender.

The muscular ring suddenly contracted, trapping her member within, allowing it to undulate, to rub against the smooth latex walls of her uterus, but leaving it unable to escape. She longed to be filled, filled with the slime, but for different reasons.

Stephanie felt that her purpose had changed. She had made a little pocket of otherworldly space, a place that she and others could call home. It was not particularly large, but it could easily house several individuals without any discomfort.

She had made a nest, two of them, actually, and now she was...

Her lavender eyes widened as she realized what she was doing; she was getting ready to reproduce!

The idea was faintly repugnant to her, but it made her tentacles twitch with arousal, made her breasts ache faintly, the purple latex flesh of her nipples longing to be suckled.

Would she lay eggs? Would she birth live young? Would her offspring be something else entirely? She wanted to find out, wanted to feel the heavy weight of her young making her belly swell, growing fat and round and sensitive.

But it felt... Weird to be breeding with herself. She needed a mate, a lover, a friend. She needed someone else to share her condition, to be like her, to understand what she was going through. She didn't want to be alone, a hive of one, her only companions being her self-bred offspring.

The thought of finding another made Stephanie's body surge with pleasure, a reward for 'proper' thinking. She felt her breasts and tentacles begin to drip, eager to spread their slime over the lucky individual that would be her companion.

Stephanie allowed her tongue to slither free from her lips, to caress her breasts as she made her way towards the one deviation from the perfectly smooth surface of her nest's wall and ceiling. She placed a hand upon the small divot upon the wall, which made it open into a small tunnel, barely wider than her shoulders.

The demoness climbed inside, the tunnel tightened around her, gripping her gently, pulling her rapidly upwards. It was like being swallowed, but as a mode of transportation. It was strange, but it felt so natural to her. It was gentle and easy, and it wasn't at all jerky like the vault's elevators.

The main tube split off suddenly and Stephanie was pushed along in the left hand direction. A few moments later she emerged from the tube into the bathroom she had converted. She scarcely recognized it, the entire room had been altered into something more... natural.

As creatures like herself didn't eat and excrete in the normal manner, the bathroom had been altered into a place for bathing and entertainment. It looked a great deal like the water garden inside one of the vault's agriculture domes.

Stephanie stopped for a few moments to listen to the peaceful sounds of the flowing water before she moved on, carefully stepping upon the flat stones that lead to the oddly normal door.

She reached for the knob and cried out softly, her writhing cock erupting, filling her womb with sweet slime. She could already feel the strange forces within her working upon the substance, shaping it into something else.

She could feel the roundness of the object that formed within her, felt them against the flesh of her shaft. Eggs. Soft, smooth, wonderful eggs. There weren't many, only four, but as she felt a gentle tickle throughout her groin, she knew that they would be more than enough.

At the moment she was not made to reproduce through typical means. She was not going to breed, lay eggs, and create new life. Her purpose was to convert existing life, to transform a handful of other vault dwellers into creatures like herself; their roles designed to spread the influence of the hive.

She withdrew her wriggling shaft from herself, the small shift in her form a few moments before had been to provide a delivery system for the transformative eggs. But there were other methods.

The demoness let out a soft sigh as one of the baseball sized orbs burst within her, the fluid within greedily pulled into the ducts that lined her womb, supplying her sex with the latex slime.

The transformative fluid spread throughout her body, the slime she leaked from her tentacles and breasts began to take on a soft, purple glow. The merest touch of the stuff would begin the transformation in any lifeform it came into contact with.

She could hear faint sounds on the other side of the door and opened it a fraction of an inch to see who was nearby.

"What is this stuff?" an annoyed female voice said, "It's worse than tar! It's like it crawled into every crack and pore in the metal and stuck there, and I have to clean it up!"

Stephanie's purple lips opened in a fanged grin. Kelsey, one of her little sisters. Excellent.

Her tentacles throbbed, her breasts ached, her loins drooled hungrily, craving the touch of untransformed flesh. What would she do first? In what sweet, wonderful ways would she violate her sister? How would she feel as her big sister brought her into the fold, transforming her into a latex beast like Stephanie?

Once more her demonic body rewarded her sinister thoughts with sweet, delicious pleasure.

Stephanie pushed the door open wide and lunged.

Kelsey never knew what hit her.