Otterly Ruddertail
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Crash Course On Heroism Ch. 02
🕑 Added 2025-06-13 13:00:11 +0000 UTCThe idea for this one comes from Moonwing.
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Chapter 2: Getting Back Into It
The hallways of the place I had been carried through bugged me, and it wasn’t because of the ant-like worker drones. Took almost an hour in that bed for me to figure out what it was, too. The walls. They were… not shaped right. You generally found walls that were rectangular or round, depending on how the builders like their aesthetics. Not so these. The floors were generally flat, the walls were generally squared off to form the hallway, but they weren’t flat like something manufactured. There were odd bumps and textures that didn’t seem to serve a function, the seams between panels seemed less like they were riveted or welded and more like they were overlapping. Like the scales in the hide of the two medical snakes who were transporting me.
The temperature was a bit on the chilly side, given that my clothing had been cut off of me, but not too bad. It did tell me a few more things about these creatures, though. Despite appearances, they were endothermic. This would be a bit too cool otherwise. They’d set me on a bed. Or maybe a platform? It seemed soft and comfortable, warmer than I’d expected but not overly so, and connected to the ground securely. By what means, I again couldn’t tell. The soft mattress and pillow seemed integrated. They’d covered me in a blanket that was attached to the side of the bed, almost like a flap. All of these were warmed, and to be honest they felt really good. Softer than I’d expected. Almost squishy, molding themselves to my body.
They left the room, and I had just barely long enough to realize that there weren’t any screens there before they were back. There was a cart with them, and they drew some cables from it. It took me a few terrified seconds to figure out what they were for, as they carefully placed the ends on strategic points around my body with adhesive tabs. Monitors. There wasn’t anything here to display what it was detecting in my body, but I couldn’t think of what else it could possibly be.
You may stand as soon as you feel you are able, but no further than the length of the cables. We do need to keep monitoring you for now. I suspect that you will not be feeling able today.
Mu One Seven turned and walked out of the room, the tip of her tail twitching back and forth as she did. Much as I hated to admit it, she was right. Attempts to put pressure on my feet were met by my body giving instant feedback that this would not be a good idea. There was a container of the milk she had been letting me drink on the cart, and a cup that looked like it was made of the same material as the walls. I could at least sit up long enough to pour and drink it, even if drinking the milk from a cup was significantly less enjoyable than from the nurse’s boobs directly. Good grief, should I even let myself think that?
I will take it as a compliment
I must have been thinking it loudly. Still, wakefulness unhelpfully kept me from passing time the easy way, so I looked around. Something else was missing in this place. Windows. I didn’t have my phone, nor my computer. Not even a clock. Not a single device to connect me to the outside in any way. They said I’d be recovering for two weeks, but the longer I went the harder I would be pressed to figure out my own checkpoints. How did they even come up with that estimate, anyway? Mu One Seven called me a human, which meant they at least had some idea, but since they were not anything I knew about that meant that direct scientific and cultural exchange was limited. They knew about endorphins and shortcuts to putting them into my system in a healthy way, though. A fact that I appreciated for multiple reasons.
Boredom eventually overtook my lack of fatigue, dragging me to sleep an unknown amount of time later. Or maybe fatigue did have something to do with it. I knew from unfortunate experience that serious injury took a lot of energy to come back from. I woke up to a glow and a familiar hand stroking me again. She apparently wanted me to heal, and I had no objections. I eagerly latched on and drank my fill as she expertly guided me to a highly satisfying orgasm, but that is where a couple of things differed. As I felt my balls and abdomen tighten to let loose, she pulled her boob away from my mouth. The long neck twisted, the mouth opened wide, and she practically lunged at my penis. By the time the first ropes of cum actually launched, it was pointing directly down her throat. I should note that the snakelike mouth of hers engulfed the entirety of my member, balls and all, with ease. It was not an experience I’d ever had anything remotely close to, and it definitely added to the whole thing. She finished swallowing, let go, and stood up. Her head quirked to the side a bit, and I realized she was looking at the monitor device.
Readings indicate this method was more effective at releasing endorphins into your system. You enjoyed it more. If there is feedback you would like to give, please do so when I next visit.
“Uh, yeah. Will do, Mu One Seven.” That name, for one. It did not roll smoothly off the tongue. Given that they seemed to use telepathy, it was understandable, but still. As she turned to leave, I noticed something. At the base of the neck, where it connected to her torso. A slight swelling that wasn’t there before. It looked like something was stored there, and the only thing that she had picked up while she was here was a load of my cum. What in the entire galaxy could she be doing with that?
My curiosity would go unanswered for the moment. All that was left to do was look around the room again, and see if I’d be able to stand. Good news, I could in fact stand. Bad news, barely. I got vertical, stretched up towards the ceiling, wobbled, put one hand on a wall, then flopped back down onto the bed when that was insufficient. Didn’t need a fancy screen or annoying beeps to tell me my heart rate was sky high just from that.
That left me to irritatedly pull the blanket flap over myself again and look around the room. Nothing to do but try to solve mysteries. Okay, senses. Get the evidence together. Sight couldn’t easily determine what the surfaces were made of. Touch… my feet got a feel of the floor during the eight seconds or so they were there. Mostly flat, slightly rough. Kind of familiar-feeling, if I was being honest, but what it reminded me of eluded me for now. Same with the wall under my palm. Smell? Mostly neutral, kind of dry, slightly powdery. Again, familiar, but elusive.
Hearing was giving nothing other than some VERY faint liquid sounds coming from… the walls? Maybe pipes. More than I had, but unspecific. That left me to consider the sense of taste. Hadn’t tasted anything besides the milk… wait. I’d definitely tasted the snake’s boobs. Good grief, why was that a statement? Still, between the feel of the skin and the taste of it, that helped narrow things down.
They had a distinctly rough surface feel despite internal squishiness once I ignored the rather enjoyable “being buried in boob” part. One that I recognized, once I stopped to think about it. It matched the texture of the wall and the floor. Also, once I casually let my left arm dangle off the edge of the bed, the sides of the platform with them. If it looks like a duck and feels like a duck… or snake, I guess… it must be a duck. But why would this place make everything out of living scale materials? It didn’t seem like that could be made airtight. That in turn either meant that they had some kind of method for growing them that way, or else…
Are you awake?
With a startled jerk, I woke up. Somewhere in that train of thought, consciousness had left me and I hadn’t noticed. Huh, I hadn’t done that since my General Education classes in the Academy. She was standing in the room, by the door, waiting patiently and carrying a box that looked like it was made from the same material as everything else. “I wasn’t, but I am now. Sorry about that, didn't even notice that I’d fallen asleep.”
That is fine, it means we are performing our role correctly if you can relax enough for that. Have you been able to stand?
“Briefly.”
Excellent, then this is timely. We had to customize your new clothing in order to make sure it would work for you.
“Clothing? Ah, thank you. Especially after you had to cut off my suit.” I looked at her, fairly appreciatively. “Wasn’t sure if you would think of it, none of you wear any.”
Incorrect. We don’t wear any while we are here, as we do not need it. You will when you go back out into the void once more. Now please relax. You need not stand for this, but please remove the blanket.
Removing a blanket was thankfully as easy as pushing it to the side, but that left a major question. “I don’t need to stand to put on a space-capable suit? How does that work… WHOAH!” The lid of the box popped suddenly open, and from it lunged a shapeless form. It reached my feet by the time my eyes really managed to lock on. A blob, the same haze gray color as my old suit, engulfed both feet and started working its way up my legs. It left behind a coating of the same color, encasing my feet and calves in a skintight layer. Up my thighs, and only paused when it got to my waist. Of course, it paused there because whatever it the suit was made of had to apparently evaluate the genitals it found there. Enthusiastically. I felt myself rapidly getting hard under the sensations of my dick being encased and massaged. “The suit is, uh, frisky.”
In a way. She is designed to protect you, which is why I needed your ejaculate to tune her, but also to encourage your healing. To use your idiom, she will grow on you in more ways than one.
“Healing, right, that makes sense. Wait a sec. Why did you call the suit ‘her’ just now?” The sensations on my dick suddenly stopped, and the gray glob again shot upwards. It unrolled more of the skintight suit over my torso and arms, stopping at the neck and wrists.
Yep! I’m Sigma Four! You seem nice, so I hope we work together for a while.
The voice that had suddenly popped into my head was very different from the smooth and calm Mu One Seven. It was higher, more energetic. Younger, almost. “Uh, hi. I’m James Malcolm.”
That’s a strange name, but it works. I’m your new suit, so you can call me whatever you want.
Mu One Seven smiled and walked off. I will leave you two alone for a bit, then.
Trying to gather my thoughts was a bit challenging, given that the skin suit I was now wearing felt like flesh pressed against me. It felt good. “So. You’re my suit. What exactly are you able to do?”
This!
I could feel the material thin out on most of my body, rapidly gathering near my already-hard dick. At first, Sigma Four settled for the same light strokes and massage that she did while figuring out how to fit on me. As soon as I was good and hard again, though, she took a different tactic. I couldn’t see what she was doing, not directly, but I felt as the area became slick. She made lubrication of some kind, applied it, and didn’t stop what she was doing. Then came the kicker. I don’t know HOW she did it, but at that point I really didn’t care. There had been quite a few blow jobs in my past. What she was doing felt like one from a woman with no gag reflex, lungs like a submarine, and enough suction to pull a golf ball through a garden hose.
When I shot off, it felt larger and more powerful by far than any of my many recent orgasms. Mu One Seven was good at what she did. Sigma Four was dedicated to it as if her entire purpose for being born was to do this. For all I knew, it was.
Delicious, James. Keep those up and I’ll be fully functional in no time!
“Uh, what?” Sue me, my brain was still swimming in the afterglow. I’m shocked that I managed to fit that much together.
I am calibrated to subsist on a diet consisting primarily of your cum, supplemented by dead cells you shed. What I don’t use as fuel, I will use to build mass and capabilities. Right now, the most I can do is what I just did, plus keep you warm and comfortable and clean. We can work on what I need to be able to do to help you, starting with what your old suit could do. For now, though, you can sleep.
What can I say? I took her suggestion. The next few days (I think) passed in much the same way. Wake up, do my best to stand. Once I could stand reliably, I walked. Then I stretched. Then I exercised. I remembered some of the physical therapy things that had once been firmly instructed to me after a training accident, and did them. Sigma Four helped, gently pushing limbs ever so slightly further and massaging where cramps decided to form. Then I’d have a meal, either from a jug and cup or directly from one of the Mu units, followed by an intense orgasm from my enthusiastic suit, then more rest.
It seemed like there was just a bit more of Sigma Four after each of these cycles. Before long she could recreate my boots (other than the magnets), then my insignia. She told me she could also harden to provide armor like my old suit, but I really didn’t want to test that. Just like I didn’t want to test how much air she could hold with my body if she had to fully envelop me. You know, for situations like sudden vacuum exposure. Though the face shield wasn’t perfectly clear like my old one, it was close enough and didn’t fog. Bit of a trick, that. Just like her other new trick. Though her senses weren’t exactly great, she had them and could look where I wasn’t. Combined with the telepathic communication, that meant I suddenly had eyes on the back of my head.
Further rumination would wait. One day (or maybe night, not sure), the door opened again at an unusual time, as I was getting ready to sleep. The woman who walked in was not one of the snake-like Mu units or one of the ant-like worker drones. If anything, her appearance was canine, though her fur was the same white and light gray as the others. She looked at me with an intensity that was uncommon in the more tranquil denizens (though I image if Sigma Four had a face she might use that expression).
Are you able to speak?
Her mental “voice” was just as intense as the rest of her. I nodded. “Yes, ma’am. What’s going on?”
Let’s not waste time. I am Alpha Seven. We have expended considerable resources healing and reequipping you, and before we finish we need to discuss payment for these services.
The feeling of tranquil peace I’d been tenuously attaining vanished like a wisp of smoke in a hurricane. This was simply not a topic I was prepared to speak about, at all. It wasn’t even a question. That was the one rule that you could find on even the roughest planets, when an official Space Pilot or their equipment was harmed in the course of their duties, you helped them to the best of your ability and did not ask for anything in return. That way, they kept coming back, and you kept up the stream of both rescues and missions. “I… uh, I do not know how much this would cost, but I’m quite sure that I can’t afford it. I’m not made of Credits, but I may be able to ask for my home station to cover it.” If I got REALLY lucky, they may even allow me to work off the debt for the rest of my life instead of dumping me planet-side with an expensive specialist degree and nowhere to use it.
She barked a laugh. Out loud, too, not telepathically. We have no use for your Credits here. What would they even buy? No, I will hear none of that. You have things of actual value to offer us, not empty symbols. Things that are worth your suits and the materials we are using to construct another light spacecraft.
My heart was beating fast, and I made an effort of will to breathe slowly and deeply to try to calm it. Those cable sensors were still attached to me, after all, and they could probably see my frantic state. “I don’t know what you mean, ma’am. I have nothing of value.”
You have nothing of MONETARY value. Other than your skillset, morals, work ethic, and time. Thankfully, these are exactly what I will be bartering for.
“You want me to, what, work off a debt to you?” I shook my head. “I can’t make that promise. Home Station owns my time for the foreseeable future until I’ve worked off my training expenses.”
We will be the judge of that. Assuming they agree to the arrangement, of course, would you be amenable to such a thing? The price will be four days of work for every one you have spent in our care when you begin, and we will be utilizing you as a rescue pilot. Otherwise, an alternative will need to be worked out, and I suspect those will not be as agreeable.
“Alright. That price is… more than agreeable.” To be honest, working for these guys seemed like it would be ENTIRELY more pleasant than dealing with vindictive coworkers who didn’t want to be rotated into managerial positions. Like someone I could name. Josh. “Either way, you need to get Home Station to agree, and to do that we need to contact them. I had a short-burst transmitter that can hit the nearest node, but that requires both my ship and my computer. That’s two different problems.”
And both are solvable. We are working on them and should be done soon. There were complications arising from the interface between your computer and what we use, as well as maintaining its ability to negotiate with your own systems. Still, we found a solution, and the work in doing so will help other such cases.
“If you say so.” She didn’t move, so I kept thinking for a moment. “As soon as the repairs are done, I’ll aim and authenticate to send a transmission. You can send your request with it. Uh, not sure how they’ll react to telepathy. If you want me to, I can write down your request and speak it with my transmission.”
Thank you, and we will ask that of you when the time comes. Although we have members that can speak, they do not yet know your language and their accent is off putting to most. How are you doing besides that? The Mu units report that you are healing well, but I need to know your side.
The casual acceptance of what I suggested along with the rapid change of subject threw me for a moment, but thankfully it was easy to answer. “I’m doing well, ma’am. Just a bit bored, but that’s nothing new for hospitals.”
If memory serves, your computer had some entertainment value in it. Most shipboard computers don’t, so it caught us off guard, but once we return it to you that should help.
“It will, thank you. We make sure our pilots have activity to fill the down time during our missions, it helps stay focused when the time comes to be serious if you are not in the middle of a nervous breakdown from two weeks of isolation.”
Right, a highly social species. I will make sure to increase the frequency of visits as you are awake more. With that, I must go. Rest well.
She left, closing the door to the room behind her. My suit was quiet, but then again she often was when I was settling down to rest. A stray thought occurred to me as I fell asleep, though. How did that dog know what was and wasn’t common in shipboard computers? That was a question for another time, though. Sleep overtook me, ending that chain of thought before it could get anywhere productive.
More cycles, more healing, no answers. True to her word, Alpha Seven Regularly made sure to send those snake medics, especially Mu One Seven, to my room any time they caught me awake for more than a short time. The better news was that I could feel my body adapting more of a regular rhythm. The exhaustion of recovery wasn’t dragging me down so much anymore, and that meant that the recovery itself was nearing completion. Now, if only I knew exactly how long I’d been here, I might actually be able to plan out what my next few weeks would look like. I had to do it, I had to look ahead, because I did not have my normal support staff here. They fed me and kept me clean, and theoretically they were working to maintain my equipment, but that was only one part. The academy always stressed that there were three pieces to the mission, and I was sitting on the first and third. The maintainers and logistics were one. The third was the actual pilot. The missing second one? The one they didn’t seem to be doing? Plans.
The thing is, actually finding a crash with people who can be rescued is rare. Most of the time, if you even found a ship in the vastness of space, it and everything on board had been dead for anywhere from one to a thousand years. Legends told of one searcher who claimed to have found an early Lightspeed spacecraft stuck unable to return to realspace, its pilot and crew all long since starved since they couldn’t resupply, just outside of sensor distance of a post and just outside of a normal travel lane, all unknowing. If this… I think they called it a Hive?... wanted me to deliberately try for longshot rescue attempts for weeks or months, I’d need a plan. Otherwise, I’d be poking around doing nothing for all that time and wasting fuel doing it.
The door suddenly opened, and Alpha Seven walked in without any further announcement. Despite her canine appearance, her tail didn’t wag, but her expression was such that I felt it would have if I’d been dealing with an actual dog.
It seems your recovery has gone long enough, it is time to begin our next steps. To that effect, I have something for you.
The being who came in was larger than any of the others I’d seen around here. It was snakelike, but not really like the Mu units. The chest was both broad and deep, but not contoured like a mammal. The arms were much more powerful and clawed, the head didn’t have a hood, and instead of legs its body simply transitioned into a long tail. They stood silently behind Alpha Seven, fairly intimidating but not otherwise doing anything.
I decided to break the silence. “Thank you for… uh, this.” I turned to address the newcomer. “Do you have a name and purpose?”
The snake’s head opened, and a familiar voice came out. One that I had not heard since before my crash. “My purpose is to help you communicate with both this Hive and your Home Station, assist in using your ship’s technological capabilities, and enable rescue missions both aboard ship and via spacewalks. As for my name, that can be whatever you wish, but you used to call me Computer.”
Comments
Otterly Ruddertail
Thanks for the catch, and fixed
Fumtu
I'm really enjoying this story, so far. In this chapter, I did notice one typo, in a sentence where I' quite confident that you meant to use "cramps", not "crams". It's interesting trying to figure out how and why the alien race got into the the job of rescuing others, but I don't expect a long explanation. I'm glad that they trade for it, but I suspect that for our hero, they may be asking for more than that, as well. Fascinating! Oh, BTW, I love the art!
