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https://www.deviantart.com/yifftator/art/FemClaw-Momster-II-AI-1103310693

h2.Your Destiny At Vault621

In the dimly lit corridors of Vault 621, you stood nervously at the entrance, heart pounding in your chest. It was years before the bombs fell, but you already sensed something was wrong. Your palms were slick with sweat as you faced the Vault-Tec recruiter, a sharp-eyed man in a crisp suit. You had one shot at this, and you needed to make it count.

[i]“Name?”[/i] he asked, glancing up from his clipboard.

You cleared your throat, forcing yourself to relax. [i]“Uh, Doctor Alexander Frost,”[/i] you lied, trying to keep your voice steady.
[i]
“Specialization?”
[/i]
This was the part you’d rehearsed over and over. You weren’t a scientist—hell, the closest thing you had to scientific knowledge was patching up a flat tire. But Vault-Tec was hiring for some high-profile bioengineering project, and you needed a spot. You had to get inside before the world ended. You took a deep breath.

“Bioengineering,” you lied smoothly. “Specializing in… genetic manipulation. DNA splicing.”

The recruiter raised an eyebrow, his pen hovering over the clipboard. [i]“Interesting. Tell me, Doctor Frost, what exactly drew you to this project?”[/i]

You scrambled for a response, your mind racing. “[i]The... potential. I mean, creating a new species, blending human DNA with... animals? That’s groundbreaking work. I couldn't pass up the opportunity to be a part of something that revolutionary.”[/i]

His eyes narrowed, studying you, and for a moment, you thought you were caught. But then he smiled, cold and calculating.

[i]“Congratulations, Doctor Frost. Welcome to Vault 621.”[/i]

You felt a significant relief that you somehow successfully managed to get yourself into a position you are undoubtedly unqualified for, just so you can grab yourself a spot in a Vault to save your skin from a possible nuclear disaster. But you have no idea what exact purpose was this Vault was built for! In time, you will find out soon!
________________________________________


Years passed, and you settled into the vault, pretending to work alongside real scientists. The project, as it turned out, was far more twisted than you had ever imagined. Vault-Tec’s goal wasn’t just to create humanoid creatures from Deathclaw and Nightstalker DNA, but to craft something… else. Something unsettlingly human.

The subjects—female, reptilian, yet disturbingly humanoid—were engineered with human-like bodies, breasts, and even reproductive systems. Vault-Tec’s plan was simple but horrifying: to test whether these creatures could breed with humans, specifically the male scientists. The experiments were disguised as research into bioengineering advancements, but the truth was darker. You and the other men weren’t just researchers—you were part of the experiment.

You tried to keep your distance, but the Vault was small, and the truth was hard to ignore. The creatures were intelligent, adapting to their new forms, and they watched the scientists with curious, almost predatory eyes. They weren’t mere beasts. They were something else entirely.
________________________________________

One day, while wandering the labyrinthine halls of Vault 621, the air felt different. An unease settled over you, like prey sensing a predator. You heard the faintest sound behind you—breathing, deep and steady. Before you could turn, a massive clawed hand seized your arm with enough force to bruise.

It was her—the largest and most powerful of the anthro-Deathclaws. Her amber eyes locked onto yours, glinting with purpose. You didn’t have time to scream before she effortlessly lifted you off your feet as if you weighed nothing.

[i][b]“No!” [/b][/i]you gasped, struggling in vain as her claws dug into your skin.

Her scaled form was impossibly warm, the heat radiating from her massive body, and her muscles tensed as she carried you through the vault’s halls with a deliberate pace. You thrashed, but it was like fighting a mountain. Panic surged in your chest. Where was she taking you?

You were dragged into a room unlike any other in the vault—bright white, sterile, with smooth metallic walls. The breeding chamber. You’d heard whispers about it among the scientists, but no one dared to speak too loudly. It was a large room by normal standards, but in the presence of the Deathclaw, it felt suffocatingly small. Her hulking form filled the space, making the room feel claustrophobic, her head nearly scraping the ceiling.

She dropped you in front of her, and you stumbled backward, hitting the wall with a thud. There was no escape now.

Towering above you, her juicy pussy was facing down at you. She then picked you up again and  pressedher  massive clawed hand against your chest, pinning you to the cold steel of the wall. Her amber eyes gleamed with a strange intelligence, a kind of knowing that unsettled you more than her physical power. Her face was inches from yours, her breath hot on your skin.

[i]“You… are my partner,” [/i]she growled, her voice low and guttural but disturbingly clear. [i]“Vault-Tec designed you for me. You are the test subject. Compliance is required.”[/i]

Your heart raced, pounding in your ears as you tried to comprehend what she was saying. This wasn’t just an experiment for her. It was personal. And she was intelligent—far more than anyone had realized. You were no longer dealing with a mindless creature. She knew exactly what she wanted.

Her massive body loomed over you, her scaled skin brushing against yours. Despite her monstrous appearance, there was something undeniably human about her figure. The sharp contrast between her reptilian features and the humanoid shape made your situation all the more terrifying. Her breasts, heavy and capable of producing milk, pressed against you as she leaned closer.

Her grip tightened as she leaned in, her claws grazing your skin but not breaking it—she was in control. The sheer size difference was overwhelming. You were nothing compared to her, a mouse caught in the jaws of a lioness.

[i]“You will cooperate,”[/i] she whispered, her voice dripping with dominance.

You stared up at her, trembling. There was nowhere to run, no chance of escape. Vault-Tec had made sure of that. You had lied your way into this nightmare, and now, you had no choice but to survive in a vault where monsters weren’t just real—they were in control.

The Deathclaw’s amber eyes burned into yours, her grip unyielding as she forced you tighter against the wall. You could feel the weight of her body pressing against you, scales scraping against your skin, her strength suffocating and absolute. Her heavy breathing echoed through the white room, and her monstrous body seemed to fill every inch of space, overwhelming your senses. There was no mistaking the hunger in her gaze—this wasn’t just an experiment anymore. This was primal.

Her hand moved down to your waist, claws grazing your skin with deliberate care, not to wound but to remind you of her power. A low growl rumbled deep in her throat as she looked down at you, her eyes narrowing.

[i]"I was designed to breed with you," [/i]she whispered, her voice dark and commanding, [i]“you will obey me, stupid little human!”[/i]

Her body, though scaled and reptilian, had been engineered with a womb, with mammalian reproductive organs. The soft tissues were built to accommodate human anatomy, her biology designed to ensure successful breeding. You had no choice. Vault-Tec had ensured your compatibility, down to the smallest cellular level.

There was an intensity in her gaze—she knew you were designed for this, that Vault-Tec had made sure you could never refuse her.

[i]"Compliance,"[/i] she growled, pressing closer, her massive body warm against yours.[i] "You will breed. It is your purpose."[/i]

Your heart raced, your mind battling against the reality of the situation. You had spent years lying, manipulating your way into this vault to escape the horrors of the surface world. But you hadn’t escaped anything. You had walked straight into another nightmare. A nightmare that was now your fate.

You were trapped here. Forever. There was no escape from Vault 621. The world above had already been reduced to ashes, and in this underground tomb, you were nothing more than a breeding subject.

Slowly, you nodded. There was no point in fighting it anymore. You had lied your way into this vault. Now, you had to accept what that meant.

Days turned into weeks, and weeks blurred into months. You lost track of time within the cold, sterile walls of Vault 621. The sterile white chamber became a place of submission, of acceptance. The Deathclaw—your mate, as Vault-Tec had so clinically put it—was relentless. Her body was built for dominance, her intelligence sharp and predatory, and you could do nothing but comply.

Her body had been engineered to ensure successful conception. Each time you were taken into the breeding chamber, the sheer size and strength of her hyper-muscular form made it clear that you were utterly powerless in her grasp. Her reproductive organs were frighteningly compatible with your own anatomy. The scientists, with their cruel precision, had ensured that even the smallest biological details between human and Deathclaw aligned perfectly. The smooth, pliant tissues of her womb were engineered to accept your seed, making every encounter inevitable.

Weeks later, when she became pregnant for the first time, it was clear that Vault-Tec's designs had worked flawlessly.

But she wasn’t the only one. The other male scientists had become breeding subjects as well, taken by the humanoid Nightstalkers and other engineered creatures that shared the vault. The creatures, a blend of reptilian and mammalian traits, were created not only for experimentation but for one true purpose: to increase their numbers. 

The bombs fell as predicted, turning the world above into a desolate wasteland. But down here, in Vault 621, the experiment continued. You were trapped in a vault full of creatures more monstrous and intelligent than anyone had ever imagined. And your role in this strange new world was not one of a scientist, but of a breeder—an unwilling participant in Vault-Tec’s plan to populate the wasteland with hybrids, born of human men and engineered creatures.

But it was too late now. The world above had turned to ash, and you were trapped in a vault full of monsters that wore scales.

As the years passed, the Deathclaw's pregnancies became a routine. Each time, she gave birth to offsprings that were identical to her—scaled, powerful, and disturbingly intelligent. The anthro-Deathclaws and Nightstalkers multiplied, filling the vault with their progeny. Their descendants inherited their mothers' strength and predatory instincts, growing rapidly into towering figures who would eventually follow the same path.

You were nothing more than a tool in Vault-Tec’s grand experiment. The breeding chamber became your prison. Your partner, the enormous Deathclaw who had chosen you, claimed you with a primal possessiveness that left no room for doubt. She was in control, and you were simply fulfilling the purpose Vault-Tec had set up for you.


Years blended into each other. You watched as generations of hybrids were born, each stronger, more intelligent, more dominant than the last. You were surrounded by creatures that viewed you not as a person, but as a means to an end. The only constant in your life was the breeding chamber, the sterile white room where your mate would drag you, time after time, to ensure the vault’s population grew. The deathclaws, the nightstalkers—Vault-Tec’s monstrous creations were multiplying, preparing for a world that no longer belonged to humans.

And in the end, you accepted it. There was no escape. No rebellion. Just survival, for as long as these anthro goddesses needed you. You would live your life trapped in Vault 621, ensuring the future of these creatures, until your usefulness finally came to an end.

And when that day came, you would die here—just another forgotten subject in Vault-Tec’s twisted vision of the future.

And the worst part?

You had lied your way in. 

You had made your bed here. 

Your made Vault 621 your grave in the head!

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[i]“OH BOOHOO!!! Poor Smooth Skin Bastard at least did not have to deal with losing his skin from radition like I did. “[/i] ~ [b]An angry ghoul who survived the Nuclear Apocalypse [/b]

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[b]AI Image Generation:[/b]

    Stable Diffusion (AUTOMATIC1111)



[b]Checkpoint Merge(s):[/b]

Indigo FurryMixXL Realism Beta



[b]LoRA(s) Used:[/b]

[1.0] ***** 🤔Uknown hyper muscle Lora???
[0.85] DeathClaw PDXL



[b]Photoshop Editing:[/b]

    Paint Tool SAI 2.0

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