Carrie was one of a hundred female pilots transferred overnight to something called Project BOS. She found herself sleepy-eyed and confused, along with 99 other women, at a briefing at 0600 given by a general whose identity she wasn’t cleared to know.
“Our intelligence has recently revealed,” explained the general, “that our only competitor for air superiority has recently developed a new anti-air system. It is highly sophisticated. It consists of advanced countermeasures capable of exploiting the data our drones use to navigate – unmanned vessels are useless to combat it. Conversely, it is able to detect human pilots at a significant distance by observing combinations of electrical activity in the brain and certain physiological markers, making our stealth technology for manned flights redundant.”
“However!” the general continued. “Our scientists have determined a weakness in the enemy’s technology. It appears that it calibrated specifically for male pilots. It turns out that women, under some circumstances, do not register to the technology as human.”
Carrie didn’t know whether to feel insulted or special. She raised her hand. “What circumstances are those, sir?”
“The single most relevant factor is sexual arousal,” said the general. “A highly aroused woman has sufficiently different pulse rate, biochemical activity and thought patterns as to not register as human. You are all going to learn to fly while horny, ladies.”
And they did. Some of the women complained, but after a week of nude punishment laps on the base’s only oval and discipline sessions where the base commander’s leather belt was applied to their breasts and pussies, they soon got with the program. Transferring out was not an option; neither was seeking to appeal their posting. The project was so confidential they were not allowed to communicate with anyone off-base whatsoever.
The girls’ aircraft were fitted with vibrating dildos on the cockpit seats. Their uniforms no longer had pants or panties – they would walk bare-cunted to their vehicles, blushing as the male engineers and command staff watched, and then awkwardly ease themselves onto the phalluses. Additional lubrication was rarely necessary – it was part of the girls’ duties to keep their pussies wet at all times. Constant arousal was doing strange things to Carrie’s mind – it was harder to think normally, and she was more grateful for people telling her what to do.
They flew practice flights under the new conditions. Base command had the ability to control their dildos from the ground – speeding up the vibration when the girls were doing well and possibly allowing them to orgasm; going frustratingly still when they were doing poorly or even giving them a small electric shock. Some joker had rigged the dildos to twitch and squirt a white liquid into the girls’ wombs when they accomplished a crucial objective. It looked (and smelled, and tasted) disturbingly similar to sperm, but none of the girls had ever found the courage to ask about it.
In time, the scientists came back with more information about the enemy weapon systems. There were further changes that could be made to make the girls present as less human to its detection. Lactation, they were told, skewed them further away from “human” towards animal; adding deposits of silicon to the breasts also interfered with its scan. One by one, all of the female pilots were either given fake tits – as large as could be fit into the cockpits – or started on a rigorous milking program. The men called the two groups “dolls” and “cows”. Carrie was a cow – she spent most of her non-flying time with her tits being painfully sucked on by a milking apparatus. She watched with both satisfaction and alarm as they began to grow as her milk came in.
Finally, it was determined that the less the pilots *thought* of themselves as human, the less human they would present. From this point, they were no longer called girls or women but rather “animals”. The women’s bathrooms were relabelled as “animals’ bathrooms”. Men didn’t speak to them directly anymore, but rather asked questions of their handlers. They were prohibited from wearing clothes entirely, and took their meals from bowls placed on the floor of the mess-hall.
Technically this was the start of a program of regular rapings, but in practice the girls, constantly horny, had been slutting up against the men on base for weeks, desperate to be fucked, and when the men started taking the initiative and slapping them if they resisted it felt to the girls like a natural and desirable progression.
By the time the project was done, they thought of themselves as nothing but fuckpuppets. Much to the Air Force’s surprise, some of them could indeed still fly aircraft reasonably well, but that had never really been the point. The “enemy anti-aircraft” technology had never existed; the only goal had been to see how quickly female pilots might be transformed into sex-pigs, as part of a proposal the general had been making that the Air Force should stop recruiting unreliable cunt-driven women as pilots and start recruiting them as whores instead…
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