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Now You're Thinking With Portals	By : Lemonator Category: +M through R > Portal Views: 12601 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Portal and Portal 2 are property of Valve software and do not belong to me. I have not made profit off this work, nor do I intend to.

Chapter List
- 1-White
- 2-White (Non-Futa)
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- 2
White.

Chell saw white.

It was funny the things she did remember. For example, that white was actually an absence of color—something she had learned in school. The ceiling and the floor were white, and the walls around her were white. It was hard to tell—if one stared long enough—which was which. She was in a small room with no doors or windows, and the only thing that had any real color at all was the baggy orange jumpsuit that she didn't remember putting on. There was a thin, flat, white bench made of a smooth, fibrous material. On further inspection, she found that she was indeed lying on it. At her feet laid an Aperture Science Handheld Portal Device, which she had seen used several times before.

She had forgotten what she looked like. How the hell had she forgotten what she looked like?

Looking down at her arms, she saw that they were pale, but not nearly as void of pigment as the oppressive walls that surrounded her. She suddenly clasped her hands to her face, panicked, and looked around the room. She breathed a sigh of relief when she found a pocket mirror on a small dresser only a few feet away. She moved it slowly about her features, taking in every detail. Her lips were thick and full, her chin rounded and smooth. Her nose was narrow and inverted, blending in with her profile. Her eyes were thin and humble, containing within them a noticeable warmth—which for some reason surprised her. Her hair was dark and stringy, tied back in a ponytail.
She placed it back on the dresser and sat silently on the bench.

When Chell was young she had attended a private, all-girls school in the Ohio suburbs. She had had an emotionally distant mother. An abusive, alcoholic father. She had no friends at School and no siblings. No one to talk about the torments she dealt with on a daily basis.

Or had she?

She couldn't be sure.

The memories were there, but they housed a nagging, paranoid fear that they were fake. Manufactured. Or maybe they simply didn't belong to her. She was deeply afraid this was true.

The one thing she was certain of was that they had done tests on her. Towering, sexually ambiguous figures in absence-of-color coats with absence-of-color masks and goggles. From behind the glass, they had been mindless drones, staring bug-eyed and twittering garbled, indiscernible insect babble. When she was released from that prison—and into a larger, more desolate one—well, she almost wished she was back in her translucent cage. They drugged her when she went to sleep—to assure she wouldn't get much; when she was awake they did things that made her wish she wasn't. Sometimes it hurt, and other times it was uncomfortable and degrading and made her feel less than human.

In short, they had turned her into an object.

However, she thought reassuringly, In reality—when they made her an object they did the same to themselves. After all, Empathy was as essential a human quality as a certain four-chambered vascular organ. But the worst—the worst was that she could escape. Or at least that was what they told her. But they had told her—shown her that there was nothing outside; beyond the laboratory lay oblivion. They said she was better off. Inside.

Her expression was neutral. Maybe she was waiting for something to happen. She kept staring at the Portal device. Then, it occurred to her that she did not know what she looked like—what she really looked like—beneath the ugly, faded jumpsuit. She pulled the top over her head, messing up her hair. Looking down, she saw two large pale spheres that rose from her chest, with small, pointed pink tops. Her hands hovered above the twin mounds before coming to rest atop them. For some reason, this provoked a strange feeling within her. It was pleasant; she could feel a warmth blooming in her chest. In her pants there was an odd tingle, followed by a swelling sensation. She slid them down, investigating. A foreign object was revealed to her then, and it stood upwards, seemingly unaffected by gravity. It was the same color as the rest of her skin. It was long, and had a certain thickness to it. The skin—rather than closing at the top—remained open; rounded pink flesh poked out from within.

Had that always been there? She wasn't positive if it had—or if it was the result of testing. Regardless, she had a sudden impulse to relieve the pressure that was concentrated in this voluminous appendage. And because it was instinct, her body knew what to do even if she didn't. Her mind helped, making a quick decision. She picked up the handheld device at her feet and fired a blue portal at the wall adjacent to the head of the bench. She placed an orange one right above it, and set the multipurpose tool down on the dresser. She lay back, facing up, and allowed herself to slip inside the blue-framed portal. Her upper torso emerged from the orange; she was then lying on top of herself, breasts flattening against her own stomach. She marveled at the brilliance of the device; surely if there was anyone still around to present it—or anyone to accept it for that matter—someone would be very famous.

She grabbed her cock around the head, and slid her hand down to the base. She let out a small sigh of pleasure, resting her elbows on her hips. The skin that had been around the curious pink tip folded itself underneath her cockhead. Leaving the skin in place—the soft, mushroom-like head exposed—she began to slide her hand up and down. Slowly but steadily, she stroked every inch of her shaft. For the first time in recent memory, her muscles untensed. She allowed her eyes to flutter closed. She let out a low, shuddering sigh. Gooseflesh spread up and down her arms; she was shivering not due to the coldness of the room but rather the new, breathtaking sensation.

Bliss.

She felt then—for whatever reason—that it would feel significantly better if she used her mouth. She employed her lips, tongue and teeth—and set them to work on her rigid shaft. She took it into her throat naturally, as if she had done this before, lips pressed tight to her lap. She drew herself back up, letting the blushing cockhead slip freely from between her lips. She grasped her newly slick cock—now donning a glossy coat of saliva—firmly in her hand.

Ahhhhh.

She marveled at the lack of resistance. Friction had been her enemy, and she had kicked its ass. She felt her face burning as her cheeks flushed bright red. She felt her jaw loosen and her mouth subsequently hang open. In a moment of ingenuity, she grabbed her breasts and pressed them together, enveloping her prick in their warm embrace. She did with them as she had done with her hands—as she had done with her lips. She felt them shake with every downward thrust. They felt so heavy, so full. Her finger brushed a nipple and she cried out, taking it away momentarily before returning to explore the area. She pressed her digits into the soft skin surrounding the hard nubs, generating further vocal approval. She grabbed her other nipple, applying light pressure and twisting it gently. She let her fingers do all the extra work, leaving her palms to compress her soft mounds, keeping her thick cock in place.

She noticed that this maneuver she was utilizing left the shiny, pink head of her member exposed. She brought her head down and pressed her lips tightly against the tip. And then it was in her mouth; she sucked it efficiently while her breasts attended to her shaft. Her mouth began to water, the excess saliva escaping her lips and running down the side of her prick. She continued to work at a steady pace, feeling that same pressure from before building deep inside. She continued, increasing her pace until it felt like she would burst. And just when it was driving her crazy—

Her eyes opened in surprise as a thick, warm, white substance spurted from her cockhead. It coated the roof of her mouth and the back of her throat. A large, gelatinous deposit oozed from her throbbing member and onto her tongue. She withdrew, the head still dripping beads of cum as her erection faded. As there was an ample amount in her mouth, it took some effort to gulp it all down. She crawled out from the portal, closing it up and making herself look decent.

She lay down on the bench and closed her eyes.

Her game had been fun, but now it was over. And she was sure the men would be back soon to run more tests.

Oh well, at least now she had something to entertain herself. Something to make her forget—if only for a little while—what they did to her.

A mechanical voice whirred to life over the intercom, interrupting her thoughts.

"Hello, and again: Welcome to the Aperture Science computer-aided enrichment center. We hope your brief detention in the relaxation vault has been a pleasant one. Your specimen has been processed and we are now ready to begin the test proper."

Chell laughed dryly to herself. Pleasant? Yes it had been—at least temporarily. Everything was temporary in this place. And as terrifying as that was, it also gave her hope. From the sound of things she would now be at the mercy of this computer, which at least meant she would not have to see them again.

She kept an open mind.
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Now You're Thinking With Portals