Super-Equipped, Super-Endowed Maxim and Kiki Vale undergo titanic physiological restructuring in order to usher in a new era of mutable cell researchand to have some boffo sex--but once so transformed and empowered, can the spunky She-Spy remain woman enough and innocent enough to forestall the evils of their inevitable and dastardly misuse? We thought so too . m (M), F, size, BE, PE, reluc, ScFi, virg, voy, growth, regression did I miss any? Disclaimer: Intended for non-bioengineered forms who have reached the adult stage in their respective life-cycles. So there. My body was a seething chemical factoryI had known this since my memory began. I stood on the threshold of change, but with the changes I had in mind, I needed outside influence. I needed this woman. I needed to be inside her; I needed her inside me. Yes, I needed this Kiki Vale. Too much in the world was changing. I had to change with it, and with so many years of living in a repressed state, I had to catch up so quicklynot merely keep pace with itto actually keep ahead of the world. But in order to evolve in a fully-grown super-being, I had to change so radically and quickly that I could destroy myself in the violent upheavals that would accompany my progress! The elasticity of her body had spared her life on numerous occasions, now I had to map out her specialized traits and graft them into my own makeup. There was danger. I might not survive the transformationand if I did not, I could not trust my imperfect clones. When I would die, I did not know. Luring me on was the primal sex urge. Having the ideologically confused Kiki Vale nurturing my child was a sharp check to my plans, but her contrary nature could be dealt with. And there she stood, a road as well as destination. Aroused at my presence, she ran her hands up and down her body. She unfastened her suit, drawing water-beaded rubber out and away from her flesh, treating me for the first time to her body without the mitigation of video. At my current height, my face was only the level of her jutting bosom. I took full advantage of this. The nanites I had injected into her earlier were working well, I concluded. Her breasts began to bloat, not with air this time; her pulmonary sacs had in fact reduced in size. Seeing the way she worked her lips was a symptom of sudden dehydration. Yes, yes! It was working. Her heretofore unused mammary glands were rippling with activity, producing a stupendous new fluid which could be called milk, but only in the most poetic sense. It was food in the most basic sense; the 200 ml. in each of her engorging teats consisted of water, sugars, salts, protein, fats, minerals, vitamins-all simple elements. It also contained the nanites I had put into her and of course, being a body fluid, it had her DNA. Reddening, Super-Agents Vales hypertrophied nipples popped open. Inviting me to her, the woman clasped her arms around my neck pressing me to her swollen globes as the torso on which they hung heaved with deep breaths of passion. I sucked at her, draining her dry as we bondedthe only genetically-engineered couple in the world. With this impromptu meal, the last vital component of my metamorphosis flooded into my stomach and hence to my bloodstream as I rapidly digested and reabsorbed. No where else could I have obtained this super-fuel and my body seemed to know it. Whatever faults the woman possessed, they trifled in comparison to this latest gift. Dizzied from the loss, the she-spy swooned and collapsed onto the bed, nipples wet from where I had fastened my hungry mouth. Beginning inside my evolved testicles, the long-restrained growth-hormones surged free into my system; shepherded into place by inhibitors and other free-roaming nanites, the altering chemicals washed into my anatomy like a monster storm, wet and violent and terrifying. There are no words in any civilized language for what happened to me. Super-Agent Vales own response to my transformation was mostly in her wide, deep-blue eyes, but even through the waves of intense pleasure in my own body, I could see her settle deeper into the form-fitting bed, keeping her legs parted and her hands clenched into apprehensive fists which dimpled the fabric. ICU2 could dampen her enthusiasm for the physical act with bio-feedback techniques, years of hormone inhibition technology, injections, but she was still all woman, all human, and the primal urges to mate and continue the breed could no more be erased in her than in me.