Stephen and Sweetie were the first.

They came out of the tubes… Well.

Stephen had grown to nine feet tall, Sweetie down to three and a half. She got big long ears to go with her big, impish grin.

They lasted five years in Agroponics. Him in overalls and her in that little naked nurse outfit.

It was just like I saw in my mind. Stephen leaning back against his favourite tree, huge hand around Sweetie's waist, her body stretched around his girth, slowly stroking her up and down because she could only cover half his length.

The giggly squeal she made every time her body made the loud, wet *pop* as he pulled back free, the steadying breath as she pulled her insides back into place.

And then, they didn't cull or purge or hit the lottery.

They lied down on a table, and the machine scanned them, and then they disappeared.

They wouldn't come out again until landing.

We had to deal with Nadine, though. The Burning, the disaster that launched our ship.
>>The smell of cities of unburied dead.

The Nadine that was scanned aboard, we found out, had twelve siblings, her parents, a grandmother at home.

She had panicked and stole all the food and ran. When she went back, they were starving, before The Burning washed over their home and left her standing by a sheet of black glass.

We had to take away her screw-in horns, first. She knew the two parts of her brain she had to kill so she felt only pain, no pleasure.

When Marion and I went to visit one time, we could smell fresh bread. She met us, whole and healthy, and invited us in for a meal.

We could smell something delicious, something sizzling, when Kaugurl sat up in shock.

She hobbled out on a crutch, smiling like
>>the hungry ones, razor teeth and mad eyes
… Yeah. Hobbling on a crutch, blood pouring from the stump of one thigh, cinched off with a belt. One half of her blouse full, the other limp and drenched in blood.

She offered us sandwiches piled high with fresh rounds of Nadine Thigh, fried in breastfat.

We were nowhere near The Club.

It took two flybys of our planet, cycling Nadine in and out. Kaugurl always right there by her side.

Penance and pain, giving of her own flesh, feed everyone.

Her last Barbecue was more a religious service than the fun, murderous orgy we used to have. One last time, everyone eats a piece, everyone thanks her for what she gave.

She came back out much better, after that. So much happier, a content dairy cow, not beef. She did lock in a few mods, though. Real horns, six tits, stacked O down to F. Black splotches on her arms and legs.

It's not perfect, but we keep bringing them back every few decades. They never step in the Club.

… They did open Kaugurl's Farm, though. She usually has about ten, mooing, leaking milk, asses high and waiting for whatever dick wanders in.

Marion loves the place. Cow herself, or leading me in by my nipples. It helps hold us over til our next fix.

Me? Oh no. I'm gone. I'll never land.
I've locked myself in as Baseline. Five five, A-cup, 100 pound.

Then Marion lifts me from the machine, carries me to the Club, and fires a nail through my wrists and ankles to hold me spread eagle between the posts. Then her knives go to work.

It's so deliciously cold, with no skin, limbs peeled to the bone, her hot hands rearranging my insides.

And then she builds me back to whatever tickles her fancy that time around.

I mean look at me now! Seven feet and it's all legs, perky little ass, four feet of tail for Marion's tight little pussy, four bouncy O tits, long pointy ears, big black eyes, no nose, dick-sucking lips, shiny yellow skin, I taste like lemon cream, and I can float six remote hands off the rings in my armless shoulders.

No, we tried having dicks. We love taking them, but not having.

I am having a BLAST. But no way in hell am i fit to leave the ship.

I know it, feeling around inside Marion. My tail tore through her womb somewhere and now it's wiggled out beteween her lips.

I can feel her weight on my back, the soft velvet of the lunette around my neck. She cuddles me tight as she gargles blood, fondling my bottom tits, milking lemon cream on the floor.

I feel a hot flood of semen in my ass, drool dripping from my hot lips, gazing down at the grinder.

The next dick tries my cunt. He's eager, bashing my shoulders against the guillotine, my massive tits bouncing off the frame.

I cum lemon around his cock, and let out a blissful sigh as his hot cum pumps into my vestigial womb.

I hear the cheer before I realize.

*snik*

Marion's head lightly bumps mine before the blade swishes through my neck.

I black out before the teeth catch me, dreaming of what Marion might make me next.

I'm never going to leave.