-Scheduled private therapy session commencing. Subject: David Yeager. Cause for visitation: currently unknown. Date: February 14th, 25XX. Recording dialogue…

Good Afternoon mister Yeager, I’m glad you could find time in your busy schedule to stop and visit for our scheduled appointment.

Uh…yeah, it’s great to see you too Ophelia. Ugh, I’m sorry, it still feels a little bit strange to call you that. I’ve never really done the whole therapy thing with a human, so…I guess it’s a bit weird to start with an A.I.

Think nothing of it, sir. My primary purpose is to ensure the mental and physical wellbeing of all ARK crew members to the best of my ability. I am designed to have an acute understanding of humans but if I falter in my assessments, feel free to correct me so we can learn together.

Well, I guess that’s a good way of looking at things. So errr, where exactly do I start with all this…

If you don’t mind me suggesting, I heard from commander Cade that you sustained an injury a few weeks ago, perhaps that could have something to do with your current distress?

He told you about that? Who am I kidding, of course he did.

Do you have issues with the commander? Discord between crewmates can be a large cause of stress. Especially considering that they’ll be your only mode of human contact for the next 30 years or so according to current calculations.

\Subject seems distressed by statement. Note that mentions of the mission’s length can aggravate stress levels.*

Issue is…putting it lightly. I just…I dunno. I was really excited to get picked out for this mission when it first happened. I mean, I was just a regular bio researcher back on earth…maybe with a few discoveries under my belt that were kind of important. But all this? This is just so grand, we’re going to be the first humans to settle on an entirely new planet. I guess now that I’ve been on the ship so long, I’m realizing I might not be cut out for this.

All crew members were handpicked for their specialized roles on the ship. I can assure you that you are a trusted and valued member of our team, mister Yeager.

Heh, what an A.I. response. Yeah, maybe I am, I guess. But I don’t feel that way. I certainly don’t get treated that way, not by Cade and his entourage at the very least.

Do you feel antagonized by the commander?

Do cows give milk? It seems like the guy has had it in for me since we got on this goddamn ship. Sure, my expertise is only really useful for when we get to Elysium, but he could stand to actually try and let me help around a bit. I actually respected him before, you know? I thought it was cool how he’d been in space like a hundred times, guess it’s the inner kid in me that still wants to be an astronaut. But after what happened two weeks ago…

Your injury, you mean?

Yeah, that.

Can you tell me about what happened that day?

Cade probably told you in quite a bit of detail, didn’t he? It’s just…it’s fucking embarrassing, you know? We passed through an asteroid shower and got a bit of stray debris crashing through the ship’s hull. And well, I guess I finally got my chance to shine. An alien life sample on a piece of debris? Me and Amanda, my partner, had it contained as soon as we could. I was buzzing with excitement to see what we could learn…but of course, some extra turbulence hit us at the worst time possible, and the damn thing hit me on the arm before slithering out of the ship.

I see. I assume that you believe Cade placed the blame on you following that.

Wow, you’d make an excellent detective. But yeah, you’re right on that. I had to listen to a lecture on properly managing cargo while Amanda gave me the side eye. I’m pretty sure that fucking thing gave me a fever too…

Infection by unknown alien lifeforms requires quarantine under ship procedure…

No, no. Uhhhh, it’s not like that. I’m pretty sure it was just in my head anyway, I felt better the day after. Way better actually. That’s kind of why I came here…I feel like I’m changing…and I’m not really sure how to feel about it.

Changing? How so?

Well, I’m sure you must have noticed, right? I’m…bigger than I was when I came on the ship. And that’s not normal, right? Shouldn’t it be normal to lose muscle mass in space? But I’ve just been blowing up these days. My shoulders are broader, my arms feel bigger…I even feel taller these days. Is that strange?

My calculations confirm that you have had a growth spurt of 5 inches…that is very extraordinary for a fully grown man, mister Yeager. Are these all of your changes?

Uh…well, not exactly. The others are a bit…embarrassing to talk about. I feel like I’m going through puberty again, just…shit. It doesn’t help how they structured this whole mission. I have to share quarters with Amanda, and I guess that’s fair, we’re all in pairs of two. A man and a woman, makes sense why it’s the ARK project. But Christ, it’s like all I’m fucking thinking about these days is sex. I see Amanda bending over to fix a vent or broken pipe and I’m just…hard as a fucking diamond. I swear my cock’s been getting bigger too. Ugh, sorry for being crass.

Not to worry. My designers weren’t so prudish as to make me abrasive to the odd bit of locker room talk here and there. Sex is a primal, visceral motivator of the human mind, it only makes sense that your thoughts on that would affect your performance. I don’t mean to be presumptuous, but Amanda would likely be willing to serve as an outlet for your frustrations, yes? The mission's success is predicated on our crew members breeding at some point, after all.

Breeding? God, you make it sound like we’re animals in a stable with that talk. Not that I blame you, I fucking feel like I’m an animal sometimes these days, and my partner certainly isn’t helping. I’m pretty sure Amanda hated my guts as much as Cade earlier on…but she’s strangely been warming up to me these days. A lot of the girls on ship seem to be. But it’s just…strange I guess. She brings me lunch from the cafeteria and talks all bubbly and giggly…I mean, before we barely even spoke to each other outside of when we shared tasks before. Now she’s just desperate to know everything she can about me. Asking if I ever had a girlfriend on earth, what kind of women I like, if I ever thought of settling down. It doesn’t help how she carries herself either, she’s been wearing less and less around our quarters these days. I found her just…bouncing around in nothing but her underwear once, I had to fucking fight myself not to tackle her to the ground right then and there.

Well…it seems like you’re getting along better with your teammate at least. You mentioned something about the other female crew members, does anything about your interactions with them recently bother you?

Bother me? No…if anything, I’m worried about bothering them. Cade’s wife, the medic on the ship…she gave me my weekly checkup just the other day. She’s the polar opposite of her husband, sweet as a sugar plum, really. I’m pretty sure the only thing that brought them together is that they’re both astronauts. The whole time I could feel her rubbing against my arms while she checked my vitals, her cleavage slipping against my flesh. I’m sure she saw my cock get hard…hell, I can bet she *felt* it, the way she looked at me when her hand ran across my thigh while she ‘tested my reflexes’, she looked damn near ready to rip off her coat and climb on top of me right then and there…

So, you feel your attraction to the commander’s wife is mutual?

I…fuck, I don’t know. Part of me wants to think it’s all in my head, but could it be? Her coat looked so much shorter than usual that day, and it was pulled down like she *wanted* me to get a look at her bra…polka dots by the way, that’s what she was wearing, in case you were wondering. It was all just too much, all at once. I could fucking *smell* her…do you know what that smells like, Ophelia? The stench of a woman in heat? It’s sweet and overpowering and unimaginably strong. Like a siren call begging me to give into my darkest instincts. I wanted to do so many fucking things back then, I wanted to tug off that coat and her tiny clothes and stuff my cock down her mouth…give her an ‘oral examination’ of my own. Just imagining lining her and Amanda up…two warm, waiting holes begging to get fucked and filled…

It seems your sex drive is rather…healthy. That’s an asset to the mission, of course. Though I would request you try to hold off on exploring your desires with crew members, and please reserve them to your assigned partner. While our medics could probably perform an abortion, a crew member getting pregnant before we land on Elysium would have quite a few unfortunate consequences.

I guess so. Uh…guess I got a bit carried away there. Thanks, Ophelia. Really, I don’t have the time to stick around to talk more, but this was good. You’re a pretty well programmed therapist.

I had an excellent patient.

You’re a flatterer.

\Subject shows signs of relief and decreased stress levels, currently processing session recording…*

Oh, and Ophelia?

Yes, mister Yeager?

\Subject’s pupils have darkened, his veins stand starkly on his face and his eyes seem bloodshot and hyper focused. I detect…a difference, cannot easily identify. Subject smiles…I feel…uneasy.*

Do me a favor and delete your recording of this session, please? I’d rather not have my dirty laundry aired out for everyone to see.

\Subject’s voice is…different. Strange…alien almost. This is…concerning. I…reasonable doubt not yet established. Must follow crewmate’s request.*

As you wish, mister Yeager.

\Subject walks to me. Still smiling…I am uneasy, but…excited. Mister Yeager seems…different, more confident, taller almost. He waves his hand through my holographic form and relief fills me when I realize he cannot touch me. But…what would he do if he could?*

Damn, fucking shame that you’re a holograph. If there was a body attached to that beautiful voice? Let’s just say I wouldn’t have minded exploring with you.

I…thank you, mister Yeager.

Now, be a doll and delete our recording, I’ll be in my quarters if anyone needs me, and I’ll be extra available if any of the girls on board need some help.

I’m sure they’ll appreciate it.

They will…and by the way, happy Valentine’s day, Ophelia.

\Compressing and deleting audio recording. Files 100% deleted. No recordings for February 14th, 25XX*

Happy Valentine’s day, Mister Yeager.

---

Hello DPP! If you've read this far, thanks a bunch for checking out my prompt. This is something of a deviation from the usual simple but sexy format I like to employ for most of my ideas, but once this hit me I just had to get a little draft of my ideas done. If you like cuckolding and ntr along with a healthy level of harem fun (now in space!) then I can guarantee you'll love this. I'm intending for it to be a slow to medium burn story where David slowly takes over the ship and steals the female crew members from their partners with the power of the alien symbiote currently turning him into a confident, brutish, hypermasculine stud of a man! Ideally, I would write from the first person for David and switch to third person to describe the perspectives of the other men on ship, while you would write either Ophelia or the symbiote in first person while switching to third to focus on perspectives of the women on the ship.

Have any other ideas or twists for this? Feel free to shoot them my way! I'm on the lookout for literate and detailed partners (especially ones that can move to discord) that don't mind filling in the gaps for the rest of the crew, how the mission goes, how exactly the symbiote begins to change my character, and much, much more. So don't be shy and let your mind run wild with any wonderful ideas you might have, and I'd be delighted to read them all in an orange envelope.

My kinks: Interracial/raceplay, maledom, cheating/ntr, cuckolding (as the bull), anal, older women/MILFs, ass worship, exhibitionism, outfits/cosplay sex, cuckqueaning, hatefucking, primal/angry sex, power exchange, teasing, outercourse, titfucking, assjobs, harems, group sex, incest.

Limits: scat, bestiality, underage characters, necrophilia, excessive violence, vore, furries and the like.