Avatar Error

‘You'll be one of the researchers, studying new worlds, you're such a badass marine, Gregory, a real pro, your skills will come in handy out there, pfft’ — Sergeant Gregory Martinelli grumbled under his breath, wiping sweat off his bright blue forehead.

He stood in a dense, humid jungle, filled with unfamiliar sounds and unwelcome smells, feeling how his chest — his own massive, heavy chest, goddammit! — bounced with every breath. It was bigger than his head — hell, probably two heads — but this body seemed made to handle those giant things. Just like it handled the huge hips, constantly rubbing against each other with every step, pressed so tightly together that if he still had his male dick, it would’ve been ground into dust by now.

Gregory Martinelli. 39 years old. Veteran of two Mars expeditions and one on Titan’s moon. A man of steel, not one to complain, always the first into the fire zone. He’d been through hell, water, and three rounds of psych-tests for isolation resistance. He wasn't sent here for nothing. A hole into another universe wasn’t exactly a stroll. And Gregory was the best candidate.

Only, the "body" let him down.

Due to an “unexpected bio-adaptation module error,” as the smug lab-coat scientist put it, the avatar turned out female. Not just female — but damn provocatively so: massive hips, firm blue skin, a chest that pulled the body forward like gravity itself was messing with him. And the outfit... if you could even call it that. Rough cloth, like it was sewn for some primitive tribe. Which, well, it actually was — the local culture was still in its tribal period.

— You just need to make contact, try empathizing with the form — they said.

— Yeah yeah, female form triggers less aggression in the natives — they added.

— You’re a pro, Sergeant Martinelli, you’ll be fine — they smirked, lowering the capsule into the trembling reality of another world, where Martinelli’s avatar waited, carrying his transferred consciousness.

'Fine, sure,' — he grumbled now, squaring his shoulders and trying to ignore how the top stretched tight over his breasts with every move. The fabric clung to the skin unpleasantly, and just a small turn of his torso made it clear how everything… moved. On its own. Without permission.

— Greg, you on the comm? — came the voice of the base operator.

— I'm on. And in deep shit. Literally. What’s the mission?

A rustling in the bushes caught his attention.

Gregory spun toward the sound, his chest — like a living creature — lagging behind with a heavy bounce, as if protesting the sudden motion. He clenched his teeth. Yeah, he still hated this body. But he was a professional.

— What’s going on over there? — the operator’s voice rasped in his ear through static.

— Bushes are moving. Someone’s coming. I’m not alone.

He stepped forward, feeling the inner sides of his new thighs almost squeak from the friction. The heat, the sweat, the chest with a life of its own — all of it was getting on his nerves again. But now, mixed into that irritation, something else was creeping in... something vague, barely there, like it wasn’t his own emotion but the body’s impulse. Warmth. Deep inside, in his gut.

He pushed it away. Not the time for that.

Figures started emerging from the thick undergrowth. Tall, slender, with long limbs and smooth gray-blue skin marked with thin symbols — like tattoos, but not quite. Their eyes glowed with a soft, green, almost hypnotic light. One of them raised a spear — not in a threatening way, more like a signal.

— That’s them — the operator finally responded, his voice tense. — The Esh’na tribe. We expected contact to happen with them. They’re the most open. Follow protocol: no sudden moves, open palms, slow speech, a smile if you can. Oh, and try… empathy, like we discussed.

— A smile... yeah, sure, I’ll just start beaming.

Gregory slowly straightened up, raising his hands with open palms. The fabric stretched over his tits creaked in protest, and one of the natives seemed to narrow his eyes, tilting his head slightly. Something pricked inside him. No, not fear. A strange, ticklish warmth. Like a wave passed from his stomach downward, and then back up — under his ribcage, wrapping around his... her? breath.

He blinked and took a sharp breath, feeling a light tremble run through the body.

— Switching to native language — Gregory rasped, trying to control his breathing. And now, the language that had felt so alien and awkward during training simulations suddenly sounded natural. Just like the scientists said — the avatar was culturally bound to the speech adapter, hardwired directly into the brain.

— “I am Gria...” — he hesitated. That name had just slipped out on its own. As if it wasn’t Gregory, but Gria — and somehow, it sounded more... fitting. More right. “I come in peace. I seek understanding. I am a messenger of light.”

His voice, deep just a second ago before the speech adapter kicked in, was now high, rich, almost melodic by the end, when his gaze landed on the native. The voice even vibrated through the chest, and every vibration echoed with a strange warm flutter under his boobs and deep in the belly. The sound made his leg muscles tremble slightly, and he felt his body arching at the hips, almost syncing with the rhythm of the speech.

— Greg?! — the operator’s voice cracked in his ear. — Are you… are you feeling this? Your oxytocin levels are through the roof. Seriously, it's like you just…

But Gria wasn’t listening anymore.

She was looking into the eyes of one of the natives — the tallest, his hair decorated with what looked like feathers. He was… beautiful. Devastatingly beautiful. In his eyes there was so much calm and strength that Gria’s breath began to catch. She felt… desire, and her brain seemed to shut off, justifying everything with the mission, forgetting and ignoring any sense of disgust. No, all of that was buried deep now — on the surface, there was only this overwhelming hunger or thirst.

And there was something humiliating in it, something completely wrong. She knew that. But the worst part was… she already knew it was inevitable.

She took a step, and her hips moved on their own, smoothly guiding her forward as if someone else was moving her — deliberate and gentle. She raised her hands higher.

— “I am Gria. I am ready to listen. To listen with my heart.”

That wasn’t in the protocol anymore — that was pure improvisation, like she’d somehow merged with this tribe in that moment, starting to understand what they wanted, what she was supposed to do.

The native stepped closer. He said something softly, with a slight smile. She understood he had called her the Chosen of the New Song. That was what they called lost priestesses of love here — and it was an honorary title. She blushed slightly but accepted the gift with a smile and a bow.

He reached out and gently touched her cheek — barely a graze — but in her body, it felt like a flash. Her heart pounded faster, and something stirred in her lower belly so intensely that she let out a soft breath and instinctively licked his finger, letting out a sultry moan.

— Gregory, fall back immediately! I repeat — you're entering physiological activation, you're going into hormonal submission phase! — the operator was panicking, but his voice was far away now. Very far. Somewhere in another world, and she could barely hear him anymore...

Epilogue

The warm air touched Gria's bare skin, her massive blue breasts bouncing slightly in response to the breeze. Her legs were spread slightly apart, as if she was trying to get comfortable on the rough bark, but it was hard to do with such a large, swollen belly. She placed a hand on it instinctively, feeling the movement within. The child was kicking again, demanding attention. As always.

She sighed and looked at the small wooden box on the grass nearby. Her last gift from the natives. From her... lover. It was a small thing, carved with intricate patterns, and it held a couple of feathers and a few dried flowers.

— Damn, I hate you... — she said to the child. He kicked again. Like he was arguing. — Stop it. I hate you. I hate you, little piece of shit, I hate you. Why did you grow so fast? Fucking three days, and you’re already this big?

Her eyes narrowed. The memories of the last few days, of him, of everything that had happened were too vivid. They wouldn't leave her alone.

— It's his fault. And their damned module. I'm not... I'm not a woman, damn it! I'm not Gria!

She took a deep breath, trying to calm down, and leaned back, feeling her heavy earrings sway and click gently against her shoulders. They and other jewelry were the symbols of a Priestess of Love, a symbol of the tribe’s respect. Her earlobes stretched painfully under their weight, but she ignored it. Because besides that, they also pierced her belly button with a ring, and the tattoo... the tattoo was done to her on the very first day, as were all these decorations, while she was lying and having sex with the whole tribe. Three days ago.

On next morning, she woke up in a hut, with a belly the size that looked like she was nine months pregnant. She was alone in the hut and just... sat there for a while, not knowing what to do, where to go, how to behave... Operator's signal was lost, and she was just trying to get out of the village and away from the tribe.

But as soon as she stepped out of the empty village, she was stopped by... something. It wasn't a physical barrier, it was more like a feeling. Feeling from her own body. From the tattoos. They were glowing and... they hurt. It was like they were burning. The pain was intense, and she couldn't move any further.

— What the fuck... — she hissed, clutching her belly, and in this moment operator's voice came in her head.

— Greg? Are you hearing me? What's going on? You're off the map, and we can't teleport you back. Something is jamming your signal.

— Hrrrrrgh... — she just groaned through her teeth trying to ignore her belly. — I don't know. I don't fucking know. Something... something happened. I can't leave this fucking place. My belly... it's...

— Your belly? What's happening? Please describe everything, we can't see your feed right now.

— I'm fucking pregnant, you dumb piece of shit! — she screamed in her head. — They fucked me, and I'm fucking pregnant! It's been just three days, and I'm fucking ready to explode!

There was a long pause. Too long. She took a few deep breaths and then said:

— Listen, I need you to pull me out. Right now. I can't stay here. You can fix this, right?

Another pause. And then the operator replied:

— Um... yeah, we can fix this, propably... But first, we need information. Where are you? Why are you off the map? And how did you get pregnant so fast? Please describe the whole situation.

She closed her eyes and sighed. Then she opened them and looked at the wooden box.

— I'm in their village, I think. It was empty when I woke up. I have no idea why the map doesn't show it. Maybe some kind of interference. And I'm pregnant because... well... I don't fucking know! It's just happend, okay!? They fucked me all night, and I woke up pregnant as hell. Now, can you please get me out of here? I need a doctor, or something...

— We're trying to locate you right now, Gregory. Stay clam, ew'll fgiuer this ote. Butft forrgt nhgow, yousd...

The tattoo began to glow and the words began to become unintelligible. She screamed in pain and clutched her head.

— Gerjgryay! Yrufu hruyg? Ghergr?

— What are you saying? I don't understand! — she screamed, trying to focus on the words. — Speak slower, damn it! What are you saying!?

— Yru fu hyug usgt!? — the operator's voice became more and more distant. — Yrfu fgyu hyg!? Tlakjhyhjyfyu!?

Then there was silence. Complete silence. The tattoo stopped glowing and the pain was gone.

— Hello? Anyone? — she called out. — Can anyone hear me?

But no one replied anymore that day. And the next day, too...

First child was born in the middle of the night, and she had no idea, how she made it. She remembered screaming and groaning, clutching her belly, biting her lips, pushing and squeezing... And then there was a wet sound of a body falling into a pool of fluids, and she finally could breathe again.

Her belly was smaller, but after a few minutes, it began to grow again. She cursed and tried to stand up, child crying nearby, but aftter few seconds he suddenly stopped, standing up and leaving the hut.

She watched in horror how the newborn left the house, and she couldn't even move, her body still weak. A few minutes later, the baby was back, with a bowl of fruits, that he placed near her.

— Oh, come on... — she whispered. — You gotta be kidding me...

And then another wave of pain came, making her scream and fall back to the ground. She was giving birth to a second child, and then a third, and then fourth... It was going on and on, every day, and every night, until the village was full of children.

She didn't know how many times she had given birth. She lost count. It was just... too much. But after some time, her belly stopped expanding, becoming the normal size of a regular stomach. There were no more children coming. Now, she was finally... free. Or so she thought… After all, she had no idea where she was now or where to go from this village, and here... here were these children... her children, although she did not want to admit it, but she felt it...

— Mama... — came the voice from somewhere nearby, breaking her train of thoughts about those damn days of pregnancy. And yes, she was still there, now inhabited by her children, in a village. — Mama, are you okay?

She turned and saw a young boy, her first child. He looked like he was around six years old now, even though it had only been a few weeks since he was born. He smiled at her and held out his hand.

— Here, I picked flowers for mommy...

— Hmph! — she snorted, looking away angrily, trying to hide tears. — I'm not your mother, little bastard... And I don't need any fucking flowers. Leave me alone...

The boy lowered his hand and sighed sadly.

— Okay, mommy... I'm sorry...

He walked away slowly, his shoulders slumped. She wanted to say something, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. She didn't want to hurt him, but at the same time, she didn't want to be near him. It was just too much for her to handle.

— Damn it, Greg... — she whispered to herself. — What the hell is wrong with you? — She looked back at the boy. He was sitting on a rock, staring at the ground. She sighed and called out to him. — Hey, kid! Come here!

He turned and looked at her with surprise. Then he jumped up and ran to her, smiling again.

— Yes, mama?

— Here... — she said, reaching out and taking the flowers from him. — These are for me? Thank you...

He grinned and nodded happily before jumping in her arms and giving her a big hug, making her gasp and fall back, dropping the wooden box on the grass. He hugged her tight, and she couldn't help but hug him back.

— I love you, mommy! — he said, nuzzling her neck.

She closed her eyes and hugged him tightly, feeling his warmth against her skin.

— I love you too, my little bastard... — she whispered, kissing his forehead gently. — ...damn it. Just please don't grow up this fast. Please. Slow down, okay?

— Okay! — he replied cheerfully, sitting on her belly and stroking her hair. — I'll slow down, mommy! Don't worry!

She smiled and ruffled his hair, feeling his warmth against her skin.

— Good boy...