Warning- this prompt is long. Unless you're up for a heavily detailed RP, might be better to skip this one. If you're up for some deeply nerdy, highly intense RP, then read on!

The year? 25,547. Place? The Arkon System, approximately 23 million lightyears from Terra, formerly Earth. Your species had long-since abandoned the concept of faster than light travel- far easier to bend the universe around a ship than break a universal speed limit. Since then, along with conquering most of our surrounding planetary systems, we discovered far bigger fish to fry.

No one knows where the aliens came from- it seems more like our two species collided during our simultaneous, spontaneous expansions. Only one thing became clear almost immediately - they were as terrified and ignorant a species as we are. No one knows who fired first, but both species have sworn a blood-oath with billions of lives to make sure they fire last.

WARNING-MULTIPLE BOGIES AT 182°, 189°, 249°, at 19,847 km, 23,567 km AND 45,231 km RESPECTIVELY

Your AI companion flashed data across your frontal cortex, the data becoming your very thoughts themselves. Your gloved fingers flex around the joystick in between your legs. You smirk as you purposefully stall your engine, reverse your thrusters and engage your warp drive, temporarily making you appear in two places at once. Your attackers swerve clumsily, clearly stunned by your manoeuver. By the time they react to your trick, your ion cannons have locked on and you send the xenos scum to whatever unimaginable alien version of hell their species has managed to conceive.

Your flight skills are approaching that of legendary status- despite your young age, you had excelled academically and physically, even beating out some students with bionic implants. You were the pride of your fleet, itself being the pride of your species. You were carving your name into the stars themselves, expanding the human federation as both a warrior and a pioneer- children throughout human space were learning of your accomplishments as they were happening, the teaching material barely able to keep up with your talent...

The overheating cockpit threatened to be your tomb, the flashing warning lights reminiscent of a grand Mal seizure.

"Computer, inject liquid N2, now!"

"I cannot do that at our current power level, captain, as I mentioned-"

You swipe your steering rig in frustration as an enemy fighter screams past, missing you by mere inches...

"Goddamn it, you find a way, you son of a b-"

Sensing a missile sneaking up behind you, you put your ship into a roll, the engine threatening to stall as the missile whistles past you so close, you can almost see the alien script written on the side of it.

"... I can power myself down. For a moment. Just long enough to cool us down. Shall I proceed?"

Turning off your AI assistant mid-dogfight. The equivalent of offering to try and catch a bullet between your teeth from a far-off sniper with your eyes and ears closed off. But you were a legend, you could do anything.

"Do it!"

Your mind blanks for a split second, your body shivering in pleasure as you feel the coolant rush into your suit, the cabin temperature plummeting quickly to a pleasant temperature. It was eerily calm in your cockpit as the danger lights blinked out one by one as you regained control of the situation. You let out a sigh of relief. You're going to be okay... Until the stealthed ship uncloaks behind you and lights you the fuck up. Lightning explodes up your spinal cord, your eyes practically melting in their sockets as you use up precious oxygen for your death scream...

You jolt awake, feeling a hard metal table beneath you. The bright lights above your head burn your retinas, and you panic- ancient earth history spoke of extra-terrestrial abductions, typically ridiculous anecdotes from crazy people, but suddenly they didn't seem so crazy...

A human head peeks into your view.

"Ah, Commander. You're conscious."

You sigh in relief. Hopefully it was all just a dream.

"We had quite a bit of bother recovering you. We lost 11 fighters just to bring you back."

Your body feels heavy. Are you just tired? You try to sit up, but you feel incredibly sluggish. That's when you notice your suit...

A Terran Federation fighter pilot suit was a grey-black, fitted with various slots and nozzles for encorporation into one of the dragonfly fighter jets. This suit was pink and white, with a bizarre, almost bikini-like patterning- a mesh over your breasts and vagina. The pattern on your abdomen too was unusual, but recognisable- it was made of stretchy material. Usually only a small amount was on a suit, for joint manoeuvrability, but this entire front section was made of it. The breast region too, had heavy implementation of this material, along with the hips and thighs.

"What's going on?"

You had intended your voice to boom with the authority you were used to commanding. Instead it came out like a frightened child's voice. You noticed the man in a blue suit- a medical corps suit. Based on his medals visible on his right breast, he was a senior doctor- one of the best.

The doctor sighs.

"When we recovered you, there was barely anything left. It was, frankly, a complete mess. We regrew your body in a tank, put you back together... But your nerves..."

You feel rising panic.

"Doc?"

"In short, you had your CNS short-circuited. AI assistants are meant to stop that from happening, but it appears yours was powered down. We had to completely regrow your nervous system. From scratch."

He swallowed, before advancing towards you.

"In short, your nervous system is now like that of someone with no flight training, no reflexes capable of space flight."

You sit there, dazed, stunned by the news.

"It would take you years to re-learn everything, to get even close to your potential again. By then, your physical age would still make it impossible. No one would ever approve it."

"... Where's my AI?"

The doctor blinks at you in surprise. He checks a holochart, scrolling through dozens of pages.

"Jarvis, was that it? Long gone, I'm afraid. The moment your spine was destroyed, it- he was annihilated. We've implanted you with a new AI, more suitable for your new assignment."

New assignment? A glimmer of hope. You didn't need fast reactions to transport cargo, surely. Maybe a gunner on a destroyer?

The doctor swallows again.

"... Your skills are incredibly valuable. For someone who wasn't augmented for such a long time... You were off the charts. The high command has decided we need to pass on your talent to the next generation."

Pass on your talent? You scoff. You can't teach talent, you're born with it.

"As such, you have been reassigned to project BR-33:D. You will be matched with suitable pilots for insemination and will be responsible for gestation and birthing."

No. No way. This can't be real, you were the best!

Your AI system boots. A cool-voiced female companion introduces herself as images of a uterus and a pregnant model appear in your mind.

"Hello, commander. You are currently in your follicular phase. Your next ovulation cycle is due in the next 72-96 hours. Your next lactation induction cycle is due in 15 minutes."

Phew! Think that's my longest one to date! The TL;DR of this is that you are a champion fighter pilot who takes a 1-in-a-million chance during a dogfight and, of course, loses. Too valuable to simply discard, your body is recovered, however due to the nature of your injury, you'll never fly a fighter ship again. Instead, you've been deemed as too genetically valuable to let go, so you've been tasked with passing your genes onto the next generation by doing what humans do best. Destroying ourselves for the sake of meaningless money. Wait, no. The horizontal slam jam.

Please please please be literate- I'd love for this to become a long term RP where we can discuss where the plot goes, characters, scenarios, everything. If your character loves strawberry ice cream, going lunar fishing and has a mole on her inner thigh that embarrasses her, that's the kind of extreme details I love to hear about! I know it can be daunting to reach out, but please don't just say "hi". Not when I've just word vomited for 45 minutes. Also, please, only women- I'm only interested in RPing with women.

Kinks: Impregnation, Pregnancy, Lactation, breeding sex, milk play, cum play, belly play, anal, oral, passionate sex, interracial, romance etc.

Limits: Non-con, snuff, extreme violence, bestiality, underage, vomit/scat