Super-shrunk, a Gen V fanfiction [bestiality, rape]

[GibberingGerbil1]

Super-shrunk, a Gen V fanfiction

They told her to come with them, which she found unusual, as they usually brought the tests to her cell. Today, however, she walked down the seemingly endless corridors, which reminded her of a hamster's tube system, guarded by people in tactical gear. As she was forced to sit down in a chair in one corridor, she allowed herself to feel a little hope for improvement. Just a little.

At the end of her freshman year at Goldkin University, Emma (AKA Little Cricket) was framed for the massacre of her peers, which she tried to prevent. She was drugged and brought to a secret Vought facility, to "let justice handle her", as Tek Knight liked to call it.

Justice had nothing to do with it, thought Emma bitterly, glaring at the wall in front of her. It was simply a testing lab, and she was the guinea pig. For months on end, they pricked her skin with their needles, took her blood, force-fed her, force-puked her, measured every organ in her as she was forced to grow and shrink respectively countless times.

Her thoughts were cut short by the call "come in". Her "escorts" yanked her from seat and pushed her into the office to her left. The office was well-furnished, as fitting the owner of it – the Dean of her former university, Tek Knight, leaning back on his oaken table in a tailored suit, a fake tiny smile and cold grey eyes that could pierce your soul.

“Little Cricket,” he purred, gesturing to a chair in front of him. “Welcome, please sit. Our shared study sessions have been most… enlightening. The data from your abilities is rewriting supe biology theorems as we speak.”
Emma, not Cricket, she thought as she was shoved down onto the chair. But she knew better than to answer back.
Undisturbed by her silence, Tek Knight stepped behind the table. "In fact, your cooperation allowed us to achieve some breakthroughs in our study, Cricket. This," he gestured. "Has passed all of its tests."

She said nothing and just stared at the device on his table. It looked like a belt, except for the touch screen where the buckle should be, and the little tube on the right. She was forced to test this device while shrunk, and she knew what Tek Knight meant: the device was an inhibitor, and while wearing it, she was robbed of her super-strength and leaping ability, which she used to possess while in shrunk form. She also knew from bitter experience that it was extremely durable, and impossible to remove.

She raised her eyes and spoke softly. "So, is this over? Will you agree to release me if I'll agree to wear this at all times?"
He leaned forward, eyes gleaming. "You're almost right, Little Cricket. We just need a little favor from you."

"What's that?"

“A field test. We’ve enhanced your inhibitor.” A holographic display flickered to life over the belt, showing an X-ray view of the insides of it. She saw something like an hourglass laying on its side, with one side filled with swirling paste. The other side was connected to the aforementioned tube.

“This extension should be able to control your actual size-shifting. To make you grow, it injects your stomach with the carbon-based paste there, designed to grow you to full size almost instantly. No more forced eat-binging for you.”

Emma leaned forward, suddenly very interested. "What about shrinking?"

"It's a bit technical, but we basically inject and suck out the paste, in a way that your body interprets as "purging", thus making the puking-to-shrink a thing of the past."

Even after all she'd been through, Emma couldn't stop herself from getting a little excited. "Does that mean you'll still let me shrink and grow?"

He gave her a soul-piercing look. "That's up to you. These tests are of personal interest to me, and I want them performed flawlessly. Succeed, and we'll allow you to keep the size-shifting abilities, without the speed and strength. If you want bullet power, you'll have to buy a gun. If you fail, well…"

He didn't have to finish the sentence. She knew what he's capable of when he's in a bad mood. " When?”
“Tonight.”




Guards drove her to the testing site — a decaying factory on the compound's edge, its walls crumbling under ivy and neglect. “Now remember, you have Twelve hours,” Tek Knight’s voice crackled through her earpiece. “That's measured by the amount of paste in the extension. After it's finished, the inhibitor automatically will grow you again, so don’t waste time.”

With that, Emma was shrunk remotely. For the first time ever, she wasn't too busy puking, and she could pay attention to the world ballooning around her into a surreal landscape. Wild grass blades raced upwards around her until they towered like trees, and the wheels of the van she came in looked like alien spaceships.

Once the shrinking stopped, she turned to look for a sewer grate as instructed. The sewer grate was easy to find, looking like a cavernous portal. She stepped inside, the air around her thick with mildew, old chemicals and rot. Soon after she was walking through the old pipes, which were to her a dark maze of rusty metal, dripping with condensation. Without her super-leaps, the climb was slow and grueling, her leg muscles burning up slowly but surely.

At least I'm making good progress, she thought, when she came across the obstacle: the sleeve connecting two pipe pieces fell off. She could see the next pipe entrance, almost 9 feet ahead of her, floating in the dark over the open air.
She looked down briefly and gulped.
I really wish I still had my leaping powers.
She took a dozen steps back, preparing for the jump of her lifetime. She took a deep breath, charged, JUMPED.

She landed hard, Her stomach slammed into the pipe's metallic frame, forcing the air out of her, but her arms managed somehow to keep her in place, pressing on the bottom of the next pipe. She almost believed she'd make it up.
But the pipe started drooping down under her weight, and hard as she tried, she couldn't find anything to grip on the pipe's slick surface. She could only slide backwards and then fall downwards, screaming as she was plunging into the abyss below her. She hit soft ground and tumbled, earth and stone battering her with every impact, until she crashed into soft, loamy soil.




Consciousness returned to her in fragments: A throbbing head, musty earth smell, the sound of tumbling rocks. Emma groaned, sitting up. She was in a tunnel—natural burrows, perhaps dug by moles long ago and abandoned. Far below the sewer line, by her estimation. Her earpiece was gone, lost in the chaos of the fall. She checked the inhibitor: it was unharmed as usual, but the hourglass was active, the paste in it slowly draining. She estimated it has roughly ten hours left, give or take. She had to get back up.

Scrambling to her feet, Emma approached the shaft she'd fallen through—a steep, crumbly incline. She prepared mentally to start clawing at the dirt, when a rustle echoed further down the tunnel. She looked in the direction of the noise, and her heart stopped. Beady eyes gleamed in the gloom. A rat—enormous at her scale, twice her height, its fur matted and whiskers twitching, was staring intently at her.

Emma screamed, flailing up the shaft as fast as she could, but without strength, her attempt to escape was helpless. The rat shuffled up after her, and she was felt its huge front claw landing on her left leg, pinning her down face-first. The rat continued to climb on top of her, its back claws forcing her legs open almost effortlessly, and it wasted no time thrusting hard in between them.

Emma screamed in pain and disgust. It was a filthy rat, but for her it was as big as a bear, and its dick forcefully molded her vagina to its shape. Its thrusts were fast-paced and ruthless, she almost lost consciousness from the pain.
When it pushed into her for the last time, she felt with fear and disgust the cum spilling deep into her, filling her up and dripping out of her uncontrollably.

She lay there panting, waiting for the rat to leave, now that he got his sick satisfaction. Except it looked at her with a similar intent stare, and to her horror it leaned down and picked her up with its mouth.

"No! oh god NO! SOMEBODY HELP ME!!" she screamed, but no one could hear her as it scurried down a new maze, taking her to its lair.




The lair of the rats was a shared room with a low ceiling and was somewhat warm by the constant presence of mammals. Of course, when Emma was put in it, still full of rat semen, the place seemed like a den of horror, full of rats scurrying around, all but the youngest bigger and stronger than her significantly.

Her captor, which she named later "Alpha", laid down to sleep next to her. Emma barely flinched; After the evening that she had, Emma could sleep even next to a literal hell spawn.
She almost dozed off when a thought crossed her mind, shocking her back to wakefulness: The inhibitor, it has 9 hours at most, and after that she'll be forced to grow back to full size. But she's now in this tunnel, who knows how deep underground, it was a death sentence!

Then she remembered that only when the carbon-based paste runs out, the growing mechanism is triggered. That gave her an idea, which she didn't like, but it would keep her alive. After all, she was just filled up with a sort of carbon-based paste…
Her vagina was still dripping the sticky stuff. She cupped her hand, and filled it with the cum. She then poured some of it down the tube of the belt.
The screen on the buckle flashed with a red text message, and she could read:

"SUBSTANCE INCOMPATIBLE FOR PASTE REPLACEMEANT."

She almost gave upthen and there, when the text blinked to:

"RECALIBRATE? Y/N"

She hurriedly pressed Y, and the screen flashed a green text for approval. Exhausted and a little Nauseous, but sighing with relative relief, she filled the hourglass with the rat cum, buying her at least the 12 hours, and fell back on the ground near Alpha's body.
Tomorrow at the latest, she thought, I will escape.




The following weeks blurred into one sticky torment. Emma tried escaping almost daily, sneaking through tunnels when the rats slept or foraged. But the maze was confounding, and the rats were relentless, and just as horny for her as Alpha.

Once, a patchy rat she named Brutus caught her mid-run and then pinned her back against a dirt wall before taking her, its squeaks echoing triumphantly over her pained gasps. Another time, a huge one-eyed rat (almost three times her size, named Troll) anticipated her moves, and was waiting for her when she turned a corner. It barely needed more than one claw to hold her down, and his shaft was so big that she thought his rape would physically break her insides.

They always dragged her back, their teeth pulling her hair until her scalp bled, or bruised her arm or leg. Alpha's rapes were a nightly ritual too, each one leaving her more hollow, her mind retreating to memories of God U—laughing and gossiping with her friends—before the nest’s stench snapped her back to her miserable present.

Food was scarce—moldy crumbs, dead insects. She ate to survive, her body weakening. The inhibitor’s resets required constant “feeding,” each act of collection a fresh humiliation. But she endured, driven by the ticking timer and keeping hope of future escape.

Four weeks in, she noticed a change: Her nausea deepened, her abdomen was swelling. The horrifying truth hit like a sledgehammer: the calibration she did on the first night. It didn't only calibrate the inhibitor, its invasive capabilities somehow calibrated HER, making her compatible with the rats’ seed.
She was pregnant with a rat's litter.




Over the days the pregnancy accelerated, her tiny frame straining. Pain became her constant companion—cramps, backaches, the fetuses kicking like tiny gremlins at her inner organs.
Then one morning, she woke up after a full night sleep, undisturbed by Alpha's daily assault. It must be fatherhood, she thought. Now that she's pregnant, it'll probably stop trying to get her pregnant, instead curling protectively around her, as if guarding its progeny.

But this left Emma with a new problem: with no rapes, there's no semen, no resets. Is she really going to die from NOT being raped, after all this time? What to do…?

A desperate idea came to Emma. She turned to Alpha, still curled by her, and tried not to think about how degrading this was going to be. She knelt next to Alpha, hands trembling, and reached down to his still-flaccid penis. She started stroking it until it became harder. She then swallowed down hard her own bile and let her head rest on the tip of the shaft, her mouth slowly and reluctantly opening to let the rat penis inside.

Alpha woke up and started to squeak excitedly, getting the attention of the other rats. She heard something approaching and suddenly felt a younger rat grabbing her ass from behind.
Oh god, no-
The unseen rat slammed into her ass excitedly, and she tried to scream around Alpha's penis. She could not stop now, she couldn't risk annoying Alpha. She just kept on giving him head until it was over, her throat burning with shame, her ass burning from friction and hot rat semen. But at least she could live for another 12 hours.

After that, Alpha didn't comply with her blowjob attempts unless it was dozing, and so the other rats—the young ones, Brutus, even Troll—became her grim routine. She’d lure them in quieter moments, enduring their eagerness to keep the paste flowing. Each time felt like chipping away at her soul, her identity submitting to survival instinct, as she tried very hard not to think about the rat slut she was becoming.




The litter grew heavier in her, her belly a grotesque burden. Movement was torture, every step agonizing. The rats brought more food—rotten fruit, carrion—but it wasn’t enough. Emma whispered curses to Tek Knight, to Vought, her voice hoarse in the dark. Her escape dreams faded away; birthing the litter was her only foreseeable future.

Labor came after 3 months, in the dead of “night.” The contractions ripped through her, each one a wave of fire and acid. She screamed, lying down in the lair, while Alpha was pacing around her nervously. The other rats watched, their chittering a cacophony. Finally, five pups emerged. They mewled, nuzzling her, as Emma collapsed, bloodied and spent.

Suddenly, the ground shuddered. Cracks spread under her, and the ground collapsed, dropping her and the pups into blinding light.
She landed on padded flooring, gigantic scientists towering over her and her pups. Monitors beeped, cameras whirred. Her eyes were wide with disbelief, until she saw one figure standing out in the room.

Tek Knight stood triumphant, clapping. “Bravo, Cricket. Your data was revolutionary once again.”
Emma just blinked, disoriented.
Tek Knight scoffed at her impatiently. "Come on, Cricket, don't you see? The “tunnels” were a simulation, a controlled lab environment. The fall, the rats, the ticking timebomb—all engineered to control and alter a supe's biology. What a discovery!"

Huge scientist hands were now collecting the pups from her, their role complete. Emma suddenly felt so, so empty.
“You bastard,” she rasped. “It was all fake?”
“Real enough,” Tek Knight said. “Everything was kept at a realistic level, except for a slight mod to the rats. They're not usually that rapey. As for you, well, you DID fail that pipe climbing…” He nodded to a technician, who sprayed with a fog of gas, and darkness claimed her.




--Two weeks later--
She woke up slowly. She could sense that a long time has passed, long enough for her birth injuries to heal almost entirely.

She opened her eyes, still lying down, and looked around confused. She was in a purple room, seemingly made of plastic. She rose to her feet and noticed a window on the far side of the room. When she looked out, her heart dropped with her assumption confirmed: she saw below a vibrant maze of plastic tubes—red, blue, yellow—twisting and spreading away like a child’s playset. Beyond them A hamster wheel, a dripping bottle, and barely visible in the horizon – the cage bars.

Filled with Adrenaline suddenly, she turned to escape, but all the doors to the purple room were closed shut. They reminded her of dog doors, with a blinking red light over them.
She still stared them down when one light blinked to green, and a huge animal scuttled in, wearing the fitting collar. upon closer look, it looked a little familiar, like…

"David Crusoe?"
"Good to see you're awake, Cricket," Tek Knight's voice boomed happily from outside. His shadow laid over the room's window. "While you were sleeping we calibrated you again, to make you and your new roommate compatible."

The understanding dawned on Emma, and she sank to her knees.

"No, PLEASE-"
Her former pet didn't let her finish. It lounged on her, tackling her to the floor. Its back legs grabbed at her shins and SPREAD.

"Not my own pet, anything else-"

But no one could hear her voice, as David the gerbil penetrated her with a satisfied squeak, its fur swallowing up her weak, exhausted cries for help. As it neared its climax, she finally lost all hope. If this is the only use they had for her, then she will never be rescued. She'll be forever trapped here, down at Vought's twisted lab, forced to serve and birth whatever creature they find for her, a guinea pig's broken toy.




I hope you enjoyed this story.
Full disclosure: I wrote a complete summary of this story, fed it as a prompt to Grok, and then did substantial re-writes to the wording of the story.
I feel like it's enough of my writing to not count as an AI SW STORY, but if the policy here says otherwise I'll reopen it in the AI story section.