Aspirant: A Sci-Fi Harem Adventure

by Whittaker, Maxx

  “Much better,” I say. “I feel like–” My words die as her form continues to shift, meld, moving lower. Breasts, high and tight, expand from her chest. They thicken, growing fuller, fuller, until they’re huge, porn star huge. Areola like flower petals appear, then silver nipples, oozing slowly, almost sensually, taking perfect shape.

  “Um…” Mika says, face reddening.

  Astra’s stomach tightens, pulling into proportions I’m not sure are humanly possible. Her stomach sucks in a bit, heightens the definition of her ribcage. Deeper, her belly button sinks inward, and below it hip bones, perfect lines that beg for fingers to drag across them, become defined.

  “Astra…” I cough, but it’s too late. Tiny silver hairs between her legs twine together, a delicate thatch that sits atop her still forming lips and vulva. I can’t look away as her legs lengthen and her thighs thicken, changing from vague to perfect.

  “There,” she says, standing before us like a horny teenager’s fantasy. “Is this better?”

  “Astra!” Mika chokes.

  My mouth opens and closes a moment, throat suddenly dry. “Astra, ah… Why… Is this the form you chose?”

  Her perfect lips deep in a frown, and her expression is so forlorn I have to fight the urge to wrap her in a hug. “Is this not pleasing? Most of the former aspirants preferred me like this.”

  “No… You’re… Beautiful,” I say, trading a burning glance with Mika. Astra smiles, radiant. “But maybe some clothes? That would be, you know… Customary.”

  “Would you like a dress?” Mika runs her hands down her torn clothes. “I know I would.”

  “But… The others…”

  “Astra, I think this ,” I say, gesturing to her ridiculous proportions, “says more about the former aspirants than it does you.”

  “Maybe dial it back,” Mika says. “Your chest for example is…”

  Astra stares at her. “You have large breasts, do you not? They seem to please Sam; I’ve seen him examine them at least four times since I–”

  “A dress!” I say, not daring to look at Mika this time. “I don’t know anything about who came before us. Just… on Earth, clothes are customary. Whatever you’ve been told.”

  Astra’s expression turns thoughtful. She’s so… warm despite her silver skin, and her emotion seems genuine. Her expression is so human, like she’s remembering something from long in her past. It’s uncanny. “Yes, that’s acceptable,” she says. Liquid metal flows downward from her shoulders, forming a simple but perfectly cut dress that adheres to her, while somehow still flowing like fabric. It’s incredible. Beneath it, her form shrinks from Pornhub to Instagram. “Is this better?”

  “Yes,” Mika and I say together.

  “Excellent,” Astra says, clapping. “A rapport must be established if I’m to guide you.”

  “This is a great first move,” I say, stepping forward and daring to lay a hand over hers. Her grin at the contact is a bit heart stopping. “But for now, we’re hungry.” I’m not, really. But I do want to sample like everything on that table. And I want to sample Mika.

  She nods. “We’ve been through a lot.”

  “Yes. Of course.” Astra’s form shimmers a moment. “From this point on, I will be available to you between trials. Please call me if you need me.”

  “Why didn’t you appear earlier? Between the trials?” Mika asks as if the thought just popped into her head.

  “It was against the rules. The first three chambers were your… trial run , let us say. If you hadn’t survived them, I would have waited for the next Aspirants.” Her face is perfectly serene as she says shit, as if discussing our deaths were a routine matter.

  A lot of Aspirants came before us, so maybe is is, for her.

  Thinking of the former Aspirants makes me wonder something else. Something I almost don’t ask. “Wait, Astra.” My words pull her attention sharply and I’m close to chickening out, but I push on. Something about how human she is forces the question. “The former Aspirants… They preferred you in that form. Did they… Were they…”

  Mika saves me. “What did they use you for?”

  Astra pauses. “Are you referring to sexual intercourse?”

  I cough. “Yeah.” The thought heats my blood, fills me with impotent rage. They’re all dead, but still…

  Astra gives me a little half smile. “No. That would be against the rules. And… thank you for asking.”

  “Yeah. No problem.” My anger melts away.

  Her hands flow like liquid until hers are on top of mine. “It will take time to trust me. I know that.” She worries her lips with little silver teeth; she’s so human, it’s hard to remember she’s another part of this place. “Know this: I want you to succeed. It is necessary, in some sense.”

  She flows away, melting from solid to liquid to gone in a few beats of my heart.

  Mika raises a brow. “What does–”

  “Oh, I almost forgot.” Astra’s voice comes from all around. “The armory is located adjacent to the exit. Please pick suitable attire before the next trial.”

  I grin at Mika. “Amory?”

  She casts a long look at the food laden table before nodding, eyes lit. “Yeah, we have to check that out.”

  I sigh. “Let’s get it out of the way. Business before pleasure.”

  I love that I can still pull a blush from her.

  The back wall is as featureless as everything else, to me, but Mika immediately traces her hand along its glossy surface, fingers moving in unfamiliar patterns. “This one is pretty simple,” she says. “I think… Yes, got it!”

  Like before, her index finger inserts deep into the wall, and instantly, it ripples away from her skin like water, revealing a wide doorway. From what I can see, the room beyond is as bland as the rest of the Citadel, but I’ve learned pretty quickly that doesn’t matter, so I’m ready for anything as I follow Mika through.

  The armory is more like a really large closet, except there are no shelves, no clothes. In fact, the walls are blank, featureless. “Uh, can you see anything?”

  “No,” Mika says, walking the length of the room and turning. “There’s nothing here.”

  “Ah…” I look to the ceiling, wondering how this works. “Astra?”

  She forms instantly, melting up from the floor and coalescing. She looks like she did only moments before, as if she never left. She laughs, a musical tinkle that’s almost human but not quite. “Most aspirants eat or bathe before coming here. If I’d known I wouldn’t have left.”

  I glance to Mika. Her eyes mirror the same thing I’m feeling: Astra can’t be from Earth. AI this real doesn’t exist, does it?

  “Astra,” Mika says, turning full circle. “You told us to ‘select attire,’ but there’s nothing here. I don’t even see runes on the wall.”

  “That’s where I come in.” Astra waves a hand, and part of the wall melts away, revealing a dark, burnished plate that’s not unlike the exit panels in the trials. “Please place your hand here. Sam, you may sit; this will take a few minutes.” She motions again, and a low bench extends from the wall near the door.

  Bemused, I follow her instructions. There’s something disarmingly innocent about Astra, and though I’m not ready to trust her, I think it’s safe to relax for a moment. We’ve handled ourselves against some shit already.

  “Now,” Astra says, turning to Mika. “Place your hand against the panel and imagine how you’d like to be armored.”

  Mika swallows. “Armor?”

  “Yes. The following trials increase in difficulty, and danger. Though the armor you select will not protect you from all possible danger, it will help mitigate any damage you may take.”

  I rub biceps that, though unmarked, still feel the cold iron sting of the statue’s blades. I shudder. “Sounds handy.”

  “Um… What should I imagine?” Mika asks.

  “I don’t know. Full plate? Cover every inch?”

  “You may imagine anything you like,�
� Astra says, reaching up to pinch the torn material at Mika’s shoulder. “The look and coverage of the armor is entirely ornamental. It merely makes you more resistant to damage, to pain.” She waves, and an image of me appear on the panel. In one I wear ornate armor of burnished silver, and only my eyes poke out from a fearsome looking helmet. I only know it’s me because next to it is another frozen picture of me, and in this one, I’m almost entirely naked. Some sort of black and red war paint in a complex swirl runs along my arms, chest, and legs. It extends down to my crotch, which is solid black, but otherwise uncovered.

  “Ah, yeah, got it!” I say, springing up. I cover warpaint me with my hands. “I think we understand.”

  “No, no,” Mika says, creaking with barely contained laughter. “I think I need another look. Not sure I get the concept.”

  “I am only too happy to assist,” Astra says, and with another wave, the panel expands until it covers the entire wall. The two images of me scale with it until they’re so large there’s no hiding them. “As I was saying,” Astra says, stepping forward to indicate the armored version of me, “it does not matter which of these you choose. Your protection will be the same.”

  “She gets it.” I stare in mock murder at Mika as she covers her mouth to hide her grin. “She’s just messing with me.”

  “Oh.” Astra seems momentarily crestfallen. “I apologize. The nuances of human behavior are complex. Even after all this time, I don’t fully understand –”

  “No, it’s my fault.” All humor falls away as Mika puts a hand to Astra’s shoulder. “I'm just having some fun with Sam. I didn’t realize you’d take it seriously.”

  “Besides,” I smile. “If she wants a show, she just has to ask.”

  Mika’s mouth opens and closes, speechless, as her face reddens.

  Astra’s face is unreadable, but there’s something speculative in her silver eyes as they glance between the two of us. “Yes, well. Anyway.” The screen shrinks, and my images thankfully disappear. “As I said, your armor can be anything you desire. Merely imagine it, and I can make it so.”

  “You first,” I sass, sitting back down.

  “Anything I desire…” Mika chews her lips, eyes faraway. She puts her hand to the panel. “Well, it’s stupid, but…”

  Astra cocks her head. “I can do that.”

  Before we can respond, she steps forward. Her hands dart out, gripping white fabric.

  “Wait –” Mika manages, trying to pull away, but she’s too slow. Astra’s fingertips become tiny blades that chop and slice, precise little movements that cut through fabric effortlessly. Her hands are everywhere, lightning quick, and though Mika fights her halfheartedly, in moments she’s stripped bare.

  Her eyes dart to me and her cheeks color, but there’s no time to make a joke, or even avert my gaze. I get the briefest glimpse of her thick ass, the side of one breast, just enough that my breath catches in my throat before four more arms erupt from Astra’s torso and descend on Mika.

  They’re a blur, and everywhere dart, material appears. One of her hands morphs into scissors that snip and cut while others wrap purple fabric at Mika’s crotch and chest. Other little touches appear; a miniature bandolier wrapping one bare thigh, a sheathed knife at her hip, and even a little band to tie back her long hair into a flowing ponytail.

  In moments, Astra is finished. She steps back to admire her handiwork.

  Mika stares. “What… was that ?” Her surprise turns to excitement when she catches her reflection. “Oh. Oh wow.”

  “Yeah,” I grin, holding back a laugh at Mika’s slack expression. “Pretty incredible.”

  Her armor is spare, revealing more of her than it covers. Purple material that perfectly matches the highlights in her hair swathes her, conveniently covering her privates and not much else. It looks like supple leather, but when she raises her hands to run fingers along her chest piece, it moves like silk. She stares, cheeks burning. “It’s a lot more revealing than I realized. Maybe I should pick something else…”

  “No. No way,” I say, turning her. “You look badass. Like Lara fucking Croft or something.”

  She ducks her head. “It’s the kind of thing I always picked for my characters in video games… I like to look sexy.”

  I shake my head, can’t keep my eyes off her long curves. “You do. Goddamn.”

  “Well…” She covers the line of her deep cleavage with one hand, then laughs and gives me a ‘fuck it’ shrug. “I guess I’ll keep it.”

  Astra reforms behind us, beaming. “I’m pleased that you’re pleased, Aspirant.”

  “Mika. You can call me Mika. And… Thank you. I love it.”

  “Me, too,” I grin, winking.

  Mika tries to hide her smile, but she doesn’t duck away, doesn’t color like she did before. Maybe she’s been waiting for and adventure like this her whole life. I know I have.

  “Now,” Astra says, turning to me. “Your turn.”

  “Ah,” I say, backing away a step as they turn together to take me in. “Maybe I’ll wait…”

  “Oh no, hell no,” Mika says, resting her hand on her new knife as she smiles maliciously. “You got a show; now it’s my turn.”

  Astra’s eyes are unreadable as they take me in. “He has excellent physique, does he not?”

  Mika licks her lips. “He does .”

  I back another step, smacking into the bench and falling on my ass. “Feel kind of like a side of meat, but fine. Guess I have no choice.”

  Two hands, one flesh and another metal, help me back up. “Now,” Astra says as Mika steps back, grinning wickedly, “please imagine your preferred adornment and place your hand at the panel.”

  “Well…” My mind immediately goes to one place; characters that have always defined the term badass.

  Astra’s head twitches the moment my palm contacts the chill surface of the wall, and her silver eyes go distant. “Acknowledged.”

  There’s no time to react as her hands bridge the distance between us, cutting, slicing. Her fingers change shape from blades to fingers to scissors and back faster than thought; when they touch my skin, they’re cool, but not uncomfortable, and her little caresses are light, so gentle I can barely discern them. They move from my shoulders to chest, then lower, taking material with her, and at the last moment one of her fingers brushes the length of my cock from base to tip as she rips my old clothes from me.

  I gasp at how unexpected it is and how good it feels. Almost as soon as she starts, it’s over. For the briefest moment I stand naked before her. Mika’s eyes roam me, darting low. When her eyes come back up there’s something in them, something new.

  A challenge.

  Like with Mika, Astra’s not finished; two more arms emerge, and I’m poked, prodded, turned and pulled. Material, white and brown and blue, spins from inside her arms to wrap me, and her fingers fly across my body as she sews, tucks, and cuts. In less than thirty seconds I’m fully clothed, and as Astra steps back she adds the last touch; a leather gun belt with a slot for a blaster.

  Before I can ask, Astra thins and flattens, reforming as a mirror once again. And there I am. Black boots, blue pants, white shirt, dark vest.

  “Yes!” Mika squeals and claps.

  Han fucking Solo.

  “Oh, hell yes. Awesome.”

  “You like it?” I ask, preening.

  “I mean, it’s old school but yeah. Yeah, I do.”

  “You? You didn’t see the new movies the second they came out?” I ask, pinching her hip. She giggles and jumps back, hands up in surrender. “Besides,” I say, straightening my vest. “Can you think of a man more heroic than Han?”

  She rakes me again, eyes hooded. “Yeah, I can think of one.”

  Oh, shit. That was a good. “I really, really like you.”

  Her face is absolutely serious. “I know.”

  Definitely keeping her.

  Astra reappears. “Excellent. You are now prepared for the next trial.”

 
We sober, and Mika’s hand finds mine unconsciously. “Can you tell us anything about it?” I ask.

  Astra’s face falls. “No. I am not allowed to share information regarding the next trial, nor can I assist you from within it. Aspirant success or failure must not be influenced.”

  Not allowed… Huh. Interesting phrasing. Something to remember.

  “What is an Aspirant? ” Mika asks.

  “One who wishes to become a champion of the Citadel.”

  “I don’t know if we really wished that,” I joke.

  Astra looks a bit sly. “Having mastered the first trials, would you wish to fail ?”

  “Good point.” I take in Mika’s new armor, my own. I must admit, we look badass. But I don’t feel any different. “Astra, how does this protect us? It just feels like… clothes.”

  “While armored, direct resistance to physical damage is increased. Much in the same way you are augmented by each convalescence chamber.”

  “Physical damage?” I say, eyeing Mika’s bare stomach.

  “Cutting, bludgeoning, stabbing, energy discharge, acid, burning –”

  “We get it!” Mika says, paling. “Gonna try to avoid all that, I think.”

  “That may not be possible,” Astra counters, matter of fact.

  Mika shoots me a look.

  “You have eleven hours and nine minutes until the next trial. Please, relax. Eat, bathe. I cannot hear you or respond if you don’t activate my process with a voice prompt. If you need me, merely say my name.”

  Mika nods. “Thank you, Astra.”

  “Yeah, thanks for the help.”

  Astra ducks her head. “It is what I’m programmed to do.” She mumbles . It’s insane how real she is. She raises her head, silver eyes locking on mine. “Thank you, Sam. Mika. Most aspirants… Well… It is gratifying, to be seen as something more than a tool to be used.”

  I think of the grotesquely sexual body she morphed into before, and shudder, wonder what kind of tool the former aspirants saw her as? At least they never touched her. The thought makes my skin crawl.