Doom-mates - Pinky Fostering

>You read the email over one more time.

[CONGRATULATIONS UAC Citizen/Employee! The UAC thanks you for taking the initiative to join the UAC Ambassador Program! Where proud humans help foster connectivity with our inter-dimensional guests. Offering companionship, guidance, and care to demonic citizens in need of help transitioning to mars life.

Like all entrants to this program, the information you have provided to the UAC, and data concerning your aptitude and financial stability has been used to match you with the right task from our pool of volunteer jobs.]

[After going over the data, The UAC Ambassador Program has selected you for the task of: ]

>You groaned with dread as you scrolled the message down.

[PINKY DEMON FOSTER-CARE]

>What the hell where you thinking? What the hell where THEY thinking for choosing you for this job? You had figured joining the program would be a good way to bolster your income. You’d assumed all you’d have to do was spend a couple days a week showing demons how to get around town, how shopping worked, etc. But this?

>Those big pink monster demons were massive, muscled beasts. You’d only ever seen Baroness and Hellknights taking care of them. What the hell did they expect a guy like YOU to do to keep one in check?

>Sure, you’d heard they’d been pretty tamed by this point, but one wrong move and one of them could easily crush you like a soda can.

>You kept reading.

[Additions to your living space to make it a suitable for the task of caring for a Pinky Demon will be carried out promptly, at no charge to you! You will be tasked with providing shelter, nutrition, miscellaneous care, and encouragement in their continuing development as a sapient creature.]

>Great, they were going to turn your apartment into a freaking barn or something. This was going to be a disaster, you just knew it.

-

>It was a week later. Workmen had come two days after you had received your message from the UAC, and after getting kicked out of your own apartment for an afternoon, it had been transformed. It seemed like they had actually knocked out the walls and made the whole place -bigger-. Apparently these buildings were built expressly to allow such big modification. Who fuckin’ knew.
>The floor was now covered with some blue protective lining, you did NOT want to know why that was necessary. The kitchen was totally transformed, the fridge replaced with a huge thing twice its size, and they’d installed some big freaky pump system thing. No idea what that was for. Plus the corner area had this huge dog bed put in, big enough for a steer.

>You sat on your couch, waiting nervously. Your “charge” was supposed to arrive today, along with more stuff necessary for their ‘happiness and development’.
>Speak of the… person, there was a knock on your door.
>You open it to show an Arch-Vile in a business outfit and glasses. “Are you _____?” She asks.
>”Yeah. This about the ambassador program?”
>She nods, jotting something down on her datapad. “Exactly that. The UAC thanks you for your volunteer work. Gentlemen?”
>A pair of guys lugging crates with UAC stamped on them move in, depositing more shit into your apartment.
>One of the boxes seemed to be refrigerated.
>”Food.” Remarked the Arch-Vile as you inspected the cold box. “Pinky’s are able to digest just about anything, but meat is their staple. Regular shipments should arrive by the week. The other box is toys, leashes, and other such tools of Pinky care. The third is clothing. If you have any questions, you will have just received an email with an attached document. That manual should have the information you require.
>”Uh-“

—

>”And that should have you set up just fine. I’ll let you meet your new foster.” She turned her head to call out into the hall. “Come along sweety, it’s alright. Here girl!” She pats her thigh encouragingly.

>You hear her before she arrives. Big trundling steps, and heavy breathing.
>She’s huge as you pictured her. A pink-skinned muscular female, with backwards legs, dark hair, big horns, and huge teeth.
>She also has one of the biggest pairs of boobs you’ve ever seen. Thankfully wrapped in a simple, short croptop with the UAC logo on it.
>”This is Lavender. She was a prime milker for Dairy-farm #13-b, but showed excellent promise in intellectual development, so she was selected for foster care.” Milker?

>The Pinky just stared at you, brows furrowed. She seemed to be even more uncomfortable with her predicament than you were with yours. She grunted.

>”She’ll require regular milking of course,”
>”Milking?” It finally dawned on you what the pumps were for. Oh sweet dios mio.
>Of course. Pinkie milk is a very popular commodity. The pump system is automated, just as the ones she’s familiar with, so you don’t need to help her with it. Just follow the guide and you should be good. Feel free to keep any milk she produces, though you’ll require a permit to sell it or products made from it.”

—

>She turned back to the pinky and gave her a soft smile. “Like we told you sweetie, the nice man is going to be your friend for a while, okay?”

>”Mrrnnnn…” Growled the Pinky, anxiously.

>“Uh… Hi?” You say, slightly terrified.

>The pinky didn’t seem to reciprocate the greeting.

>The arch vile turned back to you. “Don’t worry, she’s highly rated in cooperation with her handlers. She just needs time to adjust. We’ll leave you two to get to now each other. Best of luck!

“Hey, wait!”

>But she was already walking down the hall. You and the pinky stared at each other in awkward silence.

>The pinky shoved past you into your apartment. She looked around until she spotted the bed, stomped over and curled up on it. She glared at you, and gave a short growl.

>You interpreted this as a sign to give her space for the moment. No difficulty there. Still it was freaky seeing something with an ostensibly female form curled up like an animal in your own damn home.

>You decided to open up one of he crates, see what you were getting into.

>You pressed the button on the side, and the front slid open. An avalanche of plushes, squeaky toys, and something that looked way to thick and… evocative to be a toy bone, and leashes fell onto your feet. You picked up the first one you could. It was a big plush cacodemon, the original kind that was a floating raspberry with spikes.

>You’re suddenly knocked on your ass as the pinky had come charging over and nabbed the caco-plush from your hands, quickly bringing it back to her nest, clutching it tight, and watching you like a hawk. Must have been her favorite…

>You looked at the pile of “toys” from floor level, and groaned.

>This was going to be a long…
>Oh shit, they never told you how long this was for.
>Help.

=====

>You’re that schmuck who got roped into fostering a Pinky demon.

>It had just arrived and already the situation was shaky. The thing was glowering at you while hunkered down on its bed, clutching it’s toy cacodemon like you were going to try and steal it.

>You held out your hands to try and show you weren’t a threat. “Heyyy…. girl? Uh…” What did that arch-vile say she was called? Oh right. “Lavender. I, uh… I don’t wanna hurt you. I’m your friend. right? Frieeeeeend.”

>You gingerly stepped closer, and immediately took two steps back when she responded with a deep growl, baring her huge teeth.

>Alright, nevermind. You were totally cool with spending the rest of your life in this half of your apartment, that’s fine.

>You hunkered down in a chair, and tried your damnd-est to appear like you weren’t paying any attention to her, nervously browsing on your datapad Giving her space seemed to work, as she nestled into her bed in a slightly less defensive posture.

>You breathed a sigh of relief, only to be jolted by a another deep growl. “Gah!” you cry. “What did I do this time?!” You say, giving the creature an accusing glance.

>She, however, looked confused and annoyed, like YOU were the one disturbing the silence.

>”Don’t look at me like that! I heard you growl at me! Look, we’re just stuck together, alright? So can we just TRY and get along for like five seconds? Please?

>She continued to stare at you in annoyed befuddlement, before the growling noise started up again, and she winced in displeasure. ”RRRRRRRRRR-“

>Oh. That was her stomach growling. Wow. Wait, shit, he had a whole crate of pinky food, right?

>”Ah. Uh. You hungry?” You ask, beginning to move towards the refrigerated container. Maybe it’ll be less hostile on a full stomach. You open it, and have to take a moment to goggle at the size of the cuts of meat crammed in. They had to be cows twice the size of normal ones to make steaks that big. Well… nothing ventured…

>You hold up a big juicy slab of red meat, and you watch her eyes lock onto it. “Food?”

>She’s clearly divided between remaining in her fortified position, and getting at that meat. Another rumble from her stomach rives her to choose the latter. With an annoyed huff, she gets up, and trundles over. You look in the kitchen, and spot a huge bowl with her name on it, so graciously provided by the UAC. Slowly, carefully, you drop it into the bowl in front of her, keeping yourself as at much arm’s length away as possible.

>Thankfully, hunger finally seemed to overcome her defenses, and she licked her chops excitedly at the meal, ignoring you completely. With little fanfare, she dives in, tearing into it with her jaws, grunting and snarling ravenously.

>You observe in terrified awe at the spectacle before you, watching tiny chunks of meat fly through the air, trailing juices like protein enriched comets. With sickening certainty, you know you would provide about as much or even less challenge for her to tear through.

>Moments later, she’s finished, holding the bowl to her face and licking it clean. She finally remembers you were in the room with you, and looks at you, holding out the bowl. “Rnnn!”

>”Uh… you want more? More, Lavender?”

>”Rrrn! Grrruh!””

>Alright she wants more. With lightning speed and efficiency, you make sure her bowl is re-filled before she started looking at you like you were seconds. Another breathtaking display of poor table-manners later, she finally seemed to look satisfied, dropping the bowl unceremoniously on the kitchen-corner floor, and moving back to her bed and curling around her caco plush.

>Alright. That was progress. Maybe. Hopefully.

++++

>You watched the Pinky, careful not to let her know you were staring, till sh eventually went into an uneasy sleep.

>You exhale, the immediate tension of the situation diffusing. At least now you could get past her into your own room and clear your head a little. You crept by slowly, making sure not to disturb her. You make it into your room, and flop onto your bed, mentally exhausted. Was this your life now? Tied to this angry beast that could kill you at any second? Maybe as much as the demons had reformed, they still needed SOME helpless idiots to torment…

>Wearily, you shut your eyes to clear your head, and before you knew it, you were out like a light, so worn by the afternoon your body forced you to nap while it had the chance.

>Suddenly you’re jolted awake! Something’s shoving at you and jerking your arm. Your eyes snap open to see the Pinky demon above you, and you reflexively try to get away, but she has her hand on your arm and you are not ready to try to test her grip. She barely notices your fear. It dawns on you she looks really anxious, pained even.

>”Hnnnnnnn!” She whines pitifully. She’s really looking bad.

>”Wha, what is it?!” You ask, surprised by the level of  concern in your voice.

>She whines again,squirming in discomfort, before awkwardly gesturing hands towards her chest, and you goggle when your eyes finally catch the detail that she’s totally topless. She winces in pain when her hand accidentally smacks into her breast, and you see that they look oddly taut, and flushed, and bigger than you recall them being.

>Oh. Right.

>Milk.

>But the lady told him that she knew how to work the milker herself? Was something wrong? You get up, awkwardly stepping around the demon, making sure as hell not to bump into her swollen chest, you make your way back to the kitchen corner where that freaky pump set up is.

>Oh for pete’s sake. There was a zip-tie set around the nozzles. You look at her with your eyebrow raised. She could probably tear through the steel walls of this apartment, and here she was struggling with a stupid piece of plastic. You fish around in one of your drawers for the kitchen scissors and begin to cut through the plastic.

> I said you begin to cut through the plastic.

> I SAID YOU-… Fuck. This shit wasn’t plastic was it? You take a closer look at it. Embossed on it is the logo for something called… Dura-tex. Alright, some stupid super plastic for stupid space cargo. had to do this the stupid manual way.

>You begin to futz with the thing, trying your damndest to get the nubbin back through the loop to undo the damn thing, but it was stuck in there and… GRAGH

>She anxiously urged you on, whimpering, carefully cradling her chest. God, how long had you been out? She was in a real bad way.

>Eventually, thumb’s red from forcing the damn thing, you finally undo the zip and the pump system is freed. You push the big obvious start button, and are immediately forced to keep your balance after she shoves past you.

>[Detecting Viable User] blared the computerized pump system, the pumps actually moving on mechanical joints to press against her chest. There’s the faint hiss of them sealing on properly, and then a rhythmic mechanical -shump, shump, shump- sound.

>She, meanwhile, is in a state of blissful release. She’s panting as her aching bosom is drained, breath steaming, tong lolling. She lets out a deep throaty sigh of relief and you are suddenly reminded that as much as a demon this thing is, its also shaped like a very attractive woman, in your apartment.

>After what feels like an hour, but was probably more like five minutes, the pumping ends, and the cups pull away from her chest. She groans, rubbing her sensitive chest to sooth the sensations, wiping off an errant drop of milk with her finger, then licking it clean. She closes her eyes and exhales deeply.

> She opens her bright amber eyes and stares directly at you, then opens her mouth. “Th…Tha… Thanku.”

>What the shit.

>”What the shit, you can talk?”

>She nods sheepishly. “Can. Not lots word. Coat people say I smart and should go and smarter. No wanted.”

>Her language is simple and janky, but her speaking voice is a lot more pleasant than you imagined. A little snarly, but with a sort of gentleness suffused throughout.

>”That why I teeth and loud when here. Home small. No sisters! You, you smell not home. Bad.”

>Smell? You took a little umbrage, you tried to shower up as cleanly as possible today.

>”But that wrong. You help and feed. I…s…” She paused, struggling to find the next word.

>”You’re sorry?”

>”Sorry! I that! I sorry for teeth and loud and push. You are not bad. I try be… uh…good home sit here…”

>”Okay… I getcha. I’m just, ah, glad you don’t want to kill me!”

>“Oh, no! That is no! First thing coat people tell, first thing me an’ sisters get tell. No hurt peoples. Is thing bad girl is do. No be bad.”

>Alright, UAC aren’t total idiots with these things then. “Well, that’s good to know. Uhhhhh… So are you feeling better?”

>She nods. “Milking time always make better. Less not-happy. Hnn… Sleepy.’ She yawns, jaw opening wide, her many teeth reminding you they existed. “I go bed?”

>”Uh, sure. Have a nice rest?” She nods and trundles back to her bed, snuggling up much more casually and comfortably.

>You decide to head back to the bed as well. It was still early in the evening, but fuck it. You’ll just wake up early and be prepared to deal with the next day with a full night’s rest. You feel like you’re going to need it.

>You are jolted once again from your slumber, and Lavender is crouching by your bedside.

>”Whaaaat?” You ask exhasperatedly.

>”No sisters.” She says, softly. “Feel loney. I sleep you?”

>”Uh.” Would your bed even handle it? It was UAC science bullshit design, and if that fucking zip-tie was any indicator you’d be fine, but still… You didn’t feel entirely safe with her slumbering next to you. Sure she had apologized but if she had a single bad dream, she could easily crush your windpipe with an accidental squeeze.

>Stil… She was kind of… adorable, crouching there like that, trying to look small. It was your “duty” to look after her…

>”Alright alright, come on up.” You scoot to the other side of the bed, giving her easy access. She stands back to full hight, looming over you, before happily crawling onto the bed. You yep in surprise as she wraps her arms around you, caco plush still clutched in one big hand, and pulls you in tight against herself.

>”Me an’ sisters sleep like this. Feel good. Safe.”

>She makes a sleepy sigh of contentment and snuggles you closer to herself, her powerful muscles pressing against your back… along with her still topless chest. You hate to admit it. Alright you don’t hate it that much. But anyway, you must admit, there’s something to sleeping in the warm embrace of an amazonian demon babe.

>She mumbles an presses her cheek against your head, gently squeezing you with her arms. Alright no this is fucking great. You’re a goddamn weak-willed perv and this feels great. You were dreading this assignment, and it started out fairly rough, but now you had a feeling things were going to be okay.

>She squeezed tighter, and your head was suddenly nestled deep within her bosom, the pillowy yet firm mounds surrounding your vision.

>Help.