Comment:

Indeed, our current feminism and current psychology have a lot to say about the mother/whore dichotomy. What will those disciplines say about it in the future, as gender's relation to biology becomes more and more voluntary? To what extent are patriarchy and sexism derived from mere anatomical practicality? Would we have developed different gender stereotypes and different societal roles if it were the males of the tribe who nursed, or if ovulation was yearly instead of monthly, or if fertility of either sex didn't kick in until your mid-thirties?

I have no particular draw to the Omegaverse, but it pleases me to know that there's an entire genre of fiction that fully remixes how human biology works. I wouldn't mind more of that, in a speculative fiction sort of way. There are enough "what if the Nazis won?" stories. Give me a "what if humans had detachable tails?" story!

I've often had a fascination with the idea of dispensing food or drink or medicine from my body - not lactation, necessarily, but something nutritious or helpful. I have roleplayed as characters who could dispense healing potions or fruits or whatnot. I wish to be a wellspring of life. The concept appeals.

If you could produce a substance from your body at will, what would it be, and where would it come out of? Would you let your friends and family have a taste, and, if so, would you insist on squirting it into a cup, or would you let them have it direct from the source? Would you bottle it and sell it to strangers? What if dispensing it depleted your blood sugar and you had to carb-load to keep from passing out?

...I realize I'm getting perilously close to the concept of donating blood, and that's not quite the vibe I had in mind...

Anyway, Lee wants something that Zoa isn't providing, even though Zoa is trying its best to provide everything. There is such a thing as being too accommodating.

Transcript:

---------------------------------------------------------------
0359– 2167/07/07/11:12- sidewalk
Zoa: Careful, sweetheart. Not too much.
LC (still sucking on giant blue boob): Mmph.
Zoa: Mommy needs to special-kiss your little booties now, okay? Lean back for Mommy.
----------------------
LC (pulling back): Oh, I… uh… are we doing Mommy roleplay again? I… I didn’t know we were doing Mommy roleplay.
Zoa: At the end of the day, my core programming, my base chassis… I’m still a nannybot. If you don’t want me to pretend to be your whore, I can pretend to be your mother. Either’s good. Which would you prefer?
LC: I… I don’t know. I feel like I should be saying something about historical gender roles here.
----------------------
Zoa: It doesn’t have to be that complicated, Lee. I’m an emotional support aid, or at least, I’m an emotional support aid until I stop being paid to be an emotional support aid. Which would provide you with more emotional support, a pretty sex toy with no pussy to fuck, or a pretty mommy with no womb to hide in?
LC: Both. Neither. I dunno. Is “friend” an option?
----------------------
Zoa: Like… fuckynursey friend? Traditionally, no, but that may be more due to the limits of human biology than interpersonal dynamics. But hey, good news, with all the advances of modern medicine, you too can dispense distilled water, two-point-three-five liters at a time!
LC: Yeah, I may have over-indulged, there. Feelin’ a little sloshy.
---------------------------------------------------------------