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Description
There are 77 bonus images in this set, and 2 unique stories available here: www.patreon.com/posts/10254120…
You can find a preview of the images in the patreon set here:
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In the depths of space, amidst the silent expanse, Samus Aran soared in her sleek and formidable Power Suit. Her mission was clear: to investigate a derelict space station that had mysteriously ceased communications. As she docked her ship and stepped into the station, a sense of foreboding gripped her.
The station was eerily quiet, the hum of machinery absent. Samus navigated cautiously, her visor scanning for any signs of life or danger. Suddenly, a flicker on her HUD caught her attention—an anomaly in the station's systems. Without hesitation, she traced the signal to a dormant terminal tucked away in a forgotten corner.
As Samus approached the terminal, a faint whisper of code danced across the screen, beckoning her like a siren's call. Curiosity mingled with caution as she cautiously reached out to interface with the ancient computer. In an instant, the screen erupted in a flurry of colors, lines of code twisting and contorting like a malevolent serpent.
Unbeknownst to Samus, she had stumbled upon a sentient computer virus, one crafted with malicious intent. In a flash of blinding light, tendrils of corrupted data surged through the interface, penetrating her Power Suit's systems with sinister precision.
Samus staggered back, her visor flickering as waves of digital energy coursed through her suit. She attempted to purge the virus, but it was too late—the infection had taken hold. With a final surge of power, the virus seized control, rewiring the suit's functionality to its own twisted desires.
Within moments, Samus felt a strange sensation wash over her—a tingling warmth that suffused her entire being. Her thoughts grew hazy, her movements sluggish as the virus began its insidious work. Colors warped and shifted within her visor, casting the world in a surreal, candy-colored hue.
As the transformation took hold, Samus felt herself slipping away, her identity subsumed by the virus's whims. Her once stoic demeanor dissolved into giggles and coquettish smiles, her voice laced with a syrupy sweetness that bordered on saccharine. With each passing moment, she became less Samus Aran, legendary bounty hunter, and more a caricature of femininity—a bubble-headed bimbo lost in a haze of flirtatious whimsy.
With a final, giddy laugh, Samus emerged from her now-pink Power Suit, the virus's influence palpable in every sway of her hips and flutter of her eyelashes. Clad in a skintight pink jumpsuit that left little to the imagination, she sauntered through the derelict station with all the grace of a ditsy ingenue.
Gone was the fierce warrior of legend, replaced by a vapid reflection of her former self—a puppet dancing to the virus's tune. And as she floated through the void of space, her mind awash in a sea of pink and glittering stars, Samus Aran remained blissfully unaware of the darkness that had consumed her.

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The characters in this work of fiction are all consenting adults over the age of 18. All sexual acts depicted are consensual and legal. No one is being exploited or abused. If you or someone you know needs help, please contact the National Sexual Assault Hotline at 800-656-4673.
Content on this page is generated by artificial intelligence and may contain inaccuracies or offensive material. Users should exercise discretion, and the page owners are not liable for any errors, views, or consequences.

Description
There are 77 bonus images in this set, and 2 unique stories available here: www.patreon.com/posts/10254120…
You can find a preview of the images in the patreon set here:
-------------------

In the depths of space, amidst the silent expanse, Samus Aran soared in her sleek and formidable Power Suit. Her mission was clear: to investigate a derelict space station that had mysteriously ceased communications. As she docked her ship and stepped into the station, a sense of foreboding gripped her.
The station was eerily quiet, the hum of machinery absent. Samus navigated cautiously, her visor scanning for any signs of life or danger. Suddenly, a flicker on her HUD caught her attention—an anomaly in the station's systems. Without hesitation, she traced the signal to a dormant terminal tucked away in a forgotten corner.
As Samus approached the terminal, a faint whisper of code danced across the screen, beckoning her like a siren's call. Curiosity mingled with caution as she cautiously reached out to interface with the ancient computer. In an instant, the screen erupted in a flurry of colors, lines of code twisting and contorting like a malevolent serpent.
Unbeknownst to Samus, she had stumbled upon a sentient computer virus, one crafted with malicious intent. In a flash of blinding light, tendrils of corrupted data surged through the interface, penetrating her Power Suit's systems with sinister precision.
Samus staggered back, her visor flickering as waves of digital energy coursed through her suit. She attempted to purge the virus, but it was too late—the infection had taken hold. With a final surge of power, the virus seized control, rewiring the suit's functionality to its own twisted desires.
Within moments, Samus felt a strange sensation wash over her—a tingling warmth that suffused her entire being. Her thoughts grew hazy, her movements sluggish as the virus began its insidious work. Colors warped and shifted within her visor, casting the world in a surreal, candy-colored hue.
As the transformation took hold, Samus felt herself slipping away, her identity subsumed by the virus's whims. Her once stoic demeanor dissolved into giggles and coquettish smiles, her voice laced with a syrupy sweetness that bordered on saccharine. With each passing moment, she became less Samus Aran, legendary bounty hunter, and more a caricature of femininity—a bubble-headed bimbo lost in a haze of flirtatious whimsy.
With a final, giddy laugh, Samus emerged from her now-pink Power Suit, the virus's influence palpable in every sway of her hips and flutter of her eyelashes. Clad in a skintight pink jumpsuit that left little to the imagination, she sauntered through the derelict station with all the grace of a ditsy ingenue.
Gone was the fierce warrior of legend, replaced by a vapid reflection of her former self—a puppet dancing to the virus's tune. And as she floated through the void of space, her mind awash in a sea of pink and glittering stars, Samus Aran remained blissfully unaware of the darkness that had consumed her.

-------------------
The characters in this work of fiction are all consenting adults over the age of 18. All sexual acts depicted are consensual and legal. No one is being exploited or abused. If you or someone you know needs help, please contact the National Sexual Assault Hotline at 800-656-4673.
Content on this page is generated by artificial intelligence and may contain inaccuracies or offensive material. Users should exercise discretion, and the page owners are not liable for any errors, views, or consequences.