This series was inspired in part by the two stories by
antiquerotic
. If you haven't read them, you're missing out. Five stars from me.
She was bathed in sweat, her instincts telling her to push with everything she had. She was in a squatting position, her butt about three feet off the ground, her body inclined forward maybe 45 degrees. She was strapped into a machine with bendable metal arms which held her legs wide open, with her knees bent to spare her hamstrings. Her arms were strapped up out of the way above her head, and a strap for her chest, between her pendulous size E breasts and her enormous gravid belly. She appreciated the relief from having all that weight pulling in a different direction for a change. She imagined she must be pregnant again. Another contraction seized control of her belly and diaphragm and she strained and pushed with a long grunt. No, she decided, she must be giving birth again. Her fuzzy brain recalled a long line of other births, she couldn't remember how many, sweating and grunting and pushing like she was now. She remembered a little pain, not bad pain, more like the pain you get from using your muscles when they're sore from working out. Mostly she remembered the births to be very pleasurable. Especially the orgasms: the best ones were when something was coming out through her cunt, stretching it, burning a little as it crowned, and the moment that it was free triggering a mind shattering orgasm. This time, she could feel something round sliding down her pussy. She hoped it was eggs; they were the best. She didn't like the squirmy things as much.
The birth rooms were a much more intimate affair than the breeding theater. The same peaceful green, sound absorbent tiles and soft lighting, but much smaller and with only a single couch. The couch had all the same articulated limb supports for both arms and legs, but it was designed to be used with the subject squatting in a posture anywhere from vertical to face down, generally being reclined from 30 to 45 degrees. A molded seat in two halves with nothing down the center held the subject's hips and butt in place while leaving her entire undercarriage unobstructed. There were wheeled stools for use by the birth attendants: the staff of Project Chimera. Two were occupied by women in white and black form fitting suits and each wore a face shield device which also fed them information, via a head up display, regarding the subject. On the walls of the room were several flat screens each containing various information: live video of the subject giving birth, various graphs and indicators of the subjects current health and one with what looked like an MRI: a mid-sagittal cross-section of Subject 545's pelvis, only in true color and with much higher resolution. Her womb appeared to hold maybe ten ovoid objects similar in size and shape to an ostrich egg with another one in the opening of her cervix and another descending her vagina.
Ellie moved her stool closer to Subject 545 and flicked on the sterile field bracelets on each wrist. They flickered blue for a moment and Ellie could feel them activate. The Thran had altered them some for her, after she had informed them of the fact that they vibrated most vigorously when in contact with female humans, at least in Ellie's case. The vibration couldn't be felt by everyone: Ellie had had a particularly strong reaction to them when two Thran, Doctors Pel and Bex, had evoked an intense orgasm from her while examining her vulva. The human female subjects appeared to have an even larger reaction to them than Ellie. Though, once discovering the unintended sensual effects on their human female subjects, they were loath to correct it altogether, so they adapted them to shield any human wearing them from the vibration of the oscillating sterile field. Ellie had refused to wear them until they were fixed. For her, it was like holding a vibrator in each hand, which made them all but useless for her when on duty. They were fun when off duty.
"One's coming down now," said Ellie, looking at the monitor. "Let's have the catch tub."
The nurse, the name
Castro
embroidered over the right breast of her suit, hurried a large tub lined with thick padding under Subject 545. Ellie pushed the first two fingers of her right hand into 545's vagina, to monitor the egg's progress downward and to catch it when it emerged.
Subject 545 felt the fingers in her pussy and gasped loudly. The women in white, and sometimes the weird gray guys, brought the orgasms: their buzzing fingers on her and in her. She tried to squeeze the humming fingers but the egg wouldn't let her. Instead the egg was pushed along toward the entrance of her cunt. She pushed again and felt it spread her open; the burning sensation beginning to build. The woman in white pinched 545's rigid clit between two buzzing fingers. The egg popped free. Subject 545 yelped and then came, from the head of her clit and up through the shaft, then outwards through her body, up her spinal cord and finally bursting in her brain. The rhythmic spasms of her vagina gripped the buzzing fingers, clenching and releasing them, sending aftershocks through her nervous system.
Ellie caught the mottled blue egg and set it in the tub. She again pushed her hand into Subject 545's vagina, feeling upward for her cervix. Another egg was slowly emerging from 545's distended womb. The vibration of Ellie's hand inside 545's vagina caused her to squeeze her hand harder, which only increased the lewd sensations within her which caused 545 to squeeze even more. Ellie looked up at the monitor to see her hand, a cross-section of it anyway, gripped strongly by the vagina of Subject 545. She slowly worked her hand free, watching it do the same on the monitor. She marveled at how far advanced was Thran technology.
Subject 545 felt the urge again in her womb to push. She felt the second egg pass into her pussy, the stretching sensation a little less than last time. It always got easier the more eggs you pushed out. As the egg began to descend, she felt the buzzing fingers on her clit again. The clenching of her cunt caused the egg to push towards her lips like a wet seed squeezed between two fingers. It stopped at her entrance again as her vulva slowly opened as the egg forced it's way through. This time she felt two fingers push past her asshole and into her rectum. The fingers pressed downward on the top of the egg, helping it along. The buzzing on her clit and in her ass triggered a second orgasm, popping the egg from her cunt. She loved the buzzing fingers. Not as much as the weird things fucking her, though, filling her up and putting monsters in her belly. Nothing was as good as that. Not even eggs.
Ellie and Judy Castro caught the last ten eggs over the next hour or so and pushed the tub off to the side. Subject 545's belly was substantially smaller. The only thing left in her womb now was the placenta. Once that had passed, they placed 545 into a reclining position, wiping the sweat from her body and checking her condition on the monitor. All was well: serotonin, dopamine and gamma-noroxytocin levels rising. Subject 545 was both euphoric and tired, judging by her brain waves. Ellie checked 545's vulva looking for any damage, not really expecting to find any. She then pushed her right hand into 545's vagina, feeling along the walls with her fingertips until she reached the cervix, still slightly dilated. She placed her left hand on 545's belly and used both hands to determine the state of her womb, which proved to be a normal, post-partum uterus. For the duration of Ellie's examination, Subject 545, although exhausted, still reacted to Ellie's vibrating hands. They would give Subject 545 one last orgasm and then she would be put into a deep recuperative sleep.
"Heads or tails?" asked Castro.
"Tails," said Ellie, grinning.
The buzzing fingers were back. Subject 545 was exhausted, but as she lay there dozing in an erotic afterglow, she wanted the fingers to make her cum again. One of the women in white kneaded her milk filled breasts, rolling her hard nipples between her fingers. Then one hand drifted up to her neck with the lightest touch around her ears, then her lips. She felt another hand placed over her vulva, cupping it with a buzzing hand, pressing on it with rhythmic pressure, two fingers squeezing her clit. Another hand kneading her buttocks, alternating left and right, occasionally dragging a fingertip down the cleft between, stopping to circle her asshole. She had already had more than a dozen orgasms, nonetheless, she felt another one building, and not slowly. It came, radiating out from her sex, which clenched again and again, wringing a tired "OOOOHH!" from her throat with every pulse between her legs. She fell asleep almost instantly, utterly spent.
Ellie and Judy, aided by an AI controlled android, brought Subject 545 to the recovery ward and placed her in a bed. All the beds in Project Chimera were fantastically comfortable, but the recovery beds were quite possibly the most comfortable thing Ellie had ever slept on, which she had done just to see what it was like. The cubicles they were in, as well as the beds, were climate controlled; set to regulate temperature, humidity and air flow, which in turn regulated the subject's body temperature and comfort. Subjects were placed in these cubicles for a week or more after a birth before being returned to their regular ward. Occasionally being brought out for a walk with the help of the nurses.
During recovery, the Chimera AI monitored the subject's blood chemistry and general health. It also administered the proper drugs so that the subjects were kept in state of euphoria where, judging by their brain waves dreamed mostly erotic dreams when they were not in deep, dreamless, healing sleep. They were subjected to several orgasms per day, as they were very beneficial in increasing blood flow to recovering reproductive organs, and also help them to return tho their normal shape and size from rhythmic muscle contractions.
Once they had gotten Subject 545 bedded down, Ellie and Judy stopped in a small lounge for a cup of coffee and a chance to relax. Both had shrugged out of the tops of their black and white biosuits, tying the arms around their waists. They both wore loose white t-shirts underneath.
Judy Castro was a third generation Cuban-American from the Bronx. She was short at 5'-3" but was impressively fit for someone stuck in a hole in the ground in Antarctica. She had long, wavy, blue-black hair currently tied up into a ponytail. Her face was heart shaped with a pointed chin and big luscious lips that many women would kill for. Her skin was much darker than Ellie's, almost everyone's was, but even Judy suffered from the same chronic paleness as everyone in Project Chimera. She was somehow related to Fidel Castro but she wasn't exactly sure how. All she knew was that they were from the wrong side of the family, so her grandparents had fled Cuba for New York after the revolution in 1959. She had gotten a BSN from NYU and then spent a few years at a Bronx hospital in the OB ward. Her reasons for joining Project Chimera were very similar to Ellie's: dissatisfaction with what she was doing.
"I should talk to Bex," said Judy, staring at Ellie's substantial chest. She was wearing a bra, but still her big nipples made a nice pair of bumps on the front of her t-shirt. "Maybe he could give me a set of honkers like those. Gene therapy or something."
"My back hurts," laughed Ellie.
