Maternal Instinct

Allison fidgeted nervously in her seat as her eyes roamed over the small meeting room in a vain effort to distract herself. There was not much to see in the otherwise vacant room, spare some wall posters describing the life cycle of the Apocrytans in graphic detail. She did her best to divert her eyes from the surprisingly explicit illustrations. She really didn't need to be reminded of how bad of an idea this was. After a short wait, the door opened, rescuing the nervous girl from herself.

"Allison, right? I'm Dr. Barr. I'll be your attending physician and councilor through the entire process. How are you feeling?"

She stood to shake the man's hand, praying that he wouldn't notice how shaky she was. He greeted her warmly, a comforting smile splitting his aged face. He was probably rather handsome a few decades ago, his fading physique indicating a life of rigorous exercise. Unlike most men these days, he allowed his hairline to follow its natural path, leaving his thick white hair in possession of only about half of his scalp.

"Alright, I guess. Kinda nervous."

"Almost all volunteers are. Honestly, it's the ones that aren't that we have to be careful with. Sometimes, I feel like we're being used more as an exotic brothel than breeding center. Anyway, before we move on, I am going to need you to look over some forms and confirm their information."

His fingers touched down on the table, an enormous block of text growing on the table's surface. With a flick, he sent it her way. She glanced down the first page, checking over her basic information. Her name was still Allison Blye, she was, in fact, 5'8" and 122 pounds. Her eyes glazed over as she read without really reading, her mind refusing to acknowledge a task so dull. She dimly wondered why this kind of thing was even required in an age of instant medical examinations and autobiographical chips. She did find some passing amusement in reading through the empty check boxes for various diseases she was suddenly glad she did not have. She had no idea what "Transmissible Necrotizing Hemophilia" was, but she also did not particularly want to. The name probably told her enough as it was. She signed illegibly at the bottom of the form, still uncertain as to how anyone could write neatly with a fingertip. In an instant, the form disappeared from view.

"Excellent. In a moment, I will bring in the couple you've been assigned to. This is your last chance to back out. They have been prepared for that eventuality and no one will think less of you. Of course, your record shall remain sealed here. No one will know that you came here or that you left. This is your decision."

She though for a long moment, surprised that she was being offered the chance to back out this late in the game. She really did not have to do this. In all reality, she was only here because it was the easiest way to pay for college. In a way, it was reminiscent of the way men would sell sperm in ages past, except both the pay and what was expected of her was much, much higher.

Of course she would never admit it, but there was also a considerable part of her that was just curious about what it would feel like. In the days immediately after the war, before surrogate breeding was formalized and protected by inter-species law, deviants and perverts the world over flocked to seedy clinics to have their previously impossible fetish realized. Even today, many women and even some men would volunteer repeatedly just for the perverse pleasure.

More than anything else, however, she considered the parent couple's perspective. Their species was well and truly hamstrung by law, unable to breed without a permit and triplicate consent forms from every related party. Allison was still too young to think about a family of her own, but the idea of being legally barred from having children rankled. There were vastly more parent couples than surrogate breeders, so it would likely be years before the couple could find another compatible vessel if she quit now.

"Send them in."

The doctor smiled approvingly at her as he stood to leave.

"I'll give you guys some time alone to discuss how you want to do it. When you've decided, come by my office so we can make arrangements."

He left before she could respond, leaving her alone once again as the door closed behind him. She was going to do it. Her stomach flipped in something between excitement and anxiety. She wanted this more than she let herself realize. With a few taps on the table, she turned the matte black surface to a mirror, taking a moment to groom and inspect herself before the meeting.

Straight red hair fell slightly past her shoulders, left to hang freely. Her face was more cute than beautiful, lending her an appearance a few years younger than her actual age. A light dusting of freckles covered her pale skin. She smoothed out her blouse, re-arranging her modest bust to sit it more prominently in the low cut of her neck line. For reasons no one could explain, the aliens had a particular fondness for breasts. She tightened her belt a little, hoping to emphasize her generous hips and toned waist. Collegiate sports treated her well. She was about to turn to inspect her generous ass before she heard a knock on the significantly larger door. She hurriedly returned the table to its normal setting before bidding them enter.

It was Allison's first time seeing a Apocrytan in person. The first was enormous, over seven feet tall and almost half as long. It walked on four chitinous legs extending from a sizable abdomen, reminiscent of Earth's praying mantis. From its abdomen rose an almost-humanoid torso, bedecked in the same mottled brown chitin as the rest of its body. Searching her memories, she recalled that the bland coloration indicated that this particular alien was the female.

She had enormous hips, a signature trait of the species and common to both sexes. Her stomach was also surprisingly human, save for the thick, articulated plating covering it. A pair of spindly arms came out of her narrow shoulders, ending in a three-fingered claw. Long, sharp hairs protruded at acute angles from her forearms, vibration-based sensory organs whose usefulness disappeared almost completely once their species developed agriculture. Her head was large, at least compared to her long but unnaturally thin torso. It was wide and angular, vaguely reminiscent of a wasp's, save the multitude of small, glittering eyes.

Her most striking feature, however, were her breasts. Her kind did not nurse their young and as such did not normally possess mammaries. She, like increasingly many females since the end of the war, elected to have cosmetic surgery. Their species had relatively little gender dimorphism and a bizarre fondness for breasts, so the trend was not entirely unexpected. Hers were huge and firm, far too large to fit within Allison's hands. Something about their sleek, scaled skin and lack of nipples made them much more attractive to Allison than any human's.

The male came through the door a second later, nearly identical save for his vibrant black and yellow coloration and lack of artificial breasts. The gentle natural swell of his chest and wide hips gave his torso what would have been an attractively androgynous appearance, had he been human. He spoke in heavily accented but surprisingly clear, if excessively formal English.

"I am told you are called Allison. You do not possess the organ to speak my name, so you may call me George. This one is my mate, whom you may call Dianne. Her proficiency with your tongue is inferior to mine, so I shall speak for the both of us. I would first thank you for your hearing our petition."

Apparently, the Interspecies Exchange needed to find English teachers from this millennium. Regardless, hearing him speak did wonders to calm her nerves. Having been a child during the war, she had a difficult time seeing his kind as anything but faceless rape and murder machines out of a Heinlein novel Even just putting a voice and a face to the nameless horror in her mind was a great help.

They spoke at length, mostly discussing the details of their arrangement. To her surprise, George seemed more nervous than she. As the conversation continued, she came to find that the penalties for harming a surrogate were rather stiff. This, combined with the rather litigious tendencies of some humans, lead to a general distrust and fear of the system. Before long, she found herself the one reassuring him, promising her good intention. Any remaining fear she had faded as she came to understand her role in the process and the couple's genuine concern for her well-being. It didn't hurt to know that he had a vested interest; her health directly influenced their clutch's.

After a few hours of discussion, their plans were formalized. In a day's time, they would meet again at the clinic to do the deed. She was discharged with a small horde of antibiotics and anti-rejection drugs to smooth the process and lower the risk of infection. She had also been given an enema kit and a strong suggestion to make sure that she was clean and to watch what she ate for a while. All of the precautions started to make her a little nervous, but it was not until she was handed a doughnut-shaped foam seat cushion that she began to question her decision. She made quickly for the door before anyone started taking her measurements for a full-body cast.

Allison fell into her bed, emotionally and physically drained. Enemas were more work than she anticipated, particularly if one accidentally starts taking her prescribed muscle relaxants a day early. Then again, everything is pretty difficult when you cannot really feel or move your limbs. With the last of her fading enthusiasm, she placed a call to the local taxi service to schedule a ride to the clinic tomorrow. There was no way she was making it there by herself.

She lay still for some time, trying and failing to think about anything other than what she was about to do. In the unguarded moments before sleep, she realized that she was more than a little excited. She wasn't exactly a prude, but she could count the number of men she had been with on one hand. She never even had a one-night-stand before. Now, here she was, hopped up on medication and getting ready to get railed by aliens. She had yet to even go for the "college try"; her first encounter with another girl would be with one from a different species, in a threesome that required hospital supervision and enough drugs to kill a moose.

A distinct wetness grew between her legs, uncomfortable both for its intrusion on her attempt to sleep and for what it meant. Did she really need the money that badly, or did she sign up for an entirely different reason? Maybe she was one of those perverts that volunteered just for the pleasure. She had heard stories about women who would offer themselves to entire colonies of the aliens, losing their minds to pleasure and aphrodisiac addiction. Would she turn out like one of them?

To her dismay, her internal criticism only made the dampness spread as a throbbing heat built in her groin. She did not know which was worse, learning that she was an irredeemable pervert, or the fact that she lacked the motor control to ease the fire inside her. She tried rocking her hips to try to find some friction against her soaking panties but quickly realized that she would only excite herself further without getting any real satisfaction. Resolving herself to sleep, she turned her efforts totrying her best to ignore the cold air seeping through her wet underwear.

It was a rough, sleepless night and a tired, difficult morning, but she had finally arrived at the clinic with the aid of a blessedly uninquisitive chauffeur. Her final medical examination passed quickly and without difficulty, partially because she slept through much of it. Dr. Barr seemed perfectly content to let her sleep, unsurprised by her exhaustion. He told her that it was not uncommon for people to have difficulty sleeping on the eve of a medical procedure and that she should not be concerned. He assured her that she would be "plenty awake" when the time came. If she didn't know better, she could have sworn that a hint of a lewd grin flashed across his face as he turned to allow her into the breeding chamber.

"Breeding chamber" was such an ominous name, yet it did little to capture the feeling of the room. "Stark white rape cave" was a bit more accurate, but did little to inspire confidence in the system. The room was large and mostly empty, save for a rather dubious piece of furniture in the center. It was clear from just a glance that its form followed its function. There were only so many things that could be done in a heavily padded bed with stirrups and leg and waist restraints.

Allison looked hesitantly towards the doctor, who offered a quick smile and nod before taking his leave. He told her earlier that he would be watching from another room to ensure her safety. At the time, it made her feel better. After getting a chance to ruminate on that glance he gave her earlier, less so. Maybe everyone here is an irredeemable pervert and she was only figuring it out now.

The reverie terminated abruptly as the extra-large set of doors opened. Her stomach flipped when the alien couple entered the room. Something about seeing them here and now made this all the more real. This was really going to happen. She greeted them with an anxious wave, afraid of what would come out of her mouth if she opened it.

"You appear anxious. It would be best if we began expediently. You would do well to remove your garments before we proceed."

It was rather odd to be the only person who needed to undress. She began unbuttoning her shirt when a strange though crossed her mind. Did they want her to strip or something to get them ready? Would they even find her arousing? Did they even need to be aroused in the first place? She hadn't noticed before how little she knew about this whole process, except who was going to put what where. She was slightly embarrassed to realize that the mystery turned her on, doubly so when her hips began to rock as she slid off her blouse.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she removed her bra, exposing her unimpressive bust to the surprisingly chilly air. Her full, pink nipples stood tall from her chest, growing ever stiffer in the cold air. She pretended to not know that they were hard long before the air ever touched them.

Her pants came next, sliding easily down her toned legs as she unconsciously made a show of revealing her creamy white skin. Finally, she slipped her hands to her panties, delving a bit deeper than required to run her fingers through her well-trimmed patch of curly crimson. A tiny jolt of excitement told her that it would probably be wise to get into position before she started dripping on the floor.

The air was no longer cool as the flush of arousal spread over her body, reddening her pale skin to match her hair. The bed was rather cold, however, creating a jarring contrast of sensation between her flush and excited front and the chilly, slightly sticky synthetic material cushioning her back. At least it was soft. She lifted her legs to the stirrup, spreading them wide-enough to allow the aliens' large bodies full access to hers. She held still for a moment, nearly jumping out of her skin when the restraints around her ankles and wide hips snapped shut. Allison's mother had always called hers "birthing hips". Well, she was about to put that to the test.

"I understand that it is not true for intercourse amongst your own kind, but you need not concern yourself with your arousal. We self-lubricate. Also, our pheromones will likely contribute to your arousal far more efficiently than your fingers shall."

Allison quickly withdrew her hand from her crotch, unaware of its presence until he spoke of it. She did her best to lie still, folding her hands over her tight stomach. Her chest rose and fell as she breathed in quick and shallow pants. She hoped that they had already released their pheromones, as the prospect of being any more aroused while no one was touching her was rather frightening.

She looked between her legs to watch the alien couple in the midst of some form of presumably erotic activity. They leaned back on their abdomens and rear pair of legs, stroking each others' bodies with their remaining legs and arms. The sight was almost comical, more closely resembling a bug fight than any kind of foreplay. Then again, they would probably laugh at her slapping mouth flesh with another human.

It did not take long for something in the bizarre ritual before her to attract her attention, however. From George's abdomen arose a pair of rather intimidating yellow shafts, nearly a foot long apiece. Unlike the rest of his body, they were smooth and fleshy, long and covered in myriad large bumps. As she focused on his growing members, she noticed that each bump was topped with a thin, fleshy point protruding from a shallow, pore-like hole. The twin rods glimmered with a wet sheen as his lover's clawed feet rubbed them gently.

Dianne was not far behind, with her own pair of organs slipping out of some concealed cavity. They were about as long as her mate's, but far wider, nearly the breadth of Allison's fist. They were smooth and incredibly stiff, as if they simply slid in and out of her body rather than become erect. A similar wetness covered her shafts, almost dripping as they extended further still from her body.

It appeared as if the couple was prepared at last when they disengaged their alien embrace. Their abdomens swelled and contracted rapidly as they stood to approach her prone form. Was that how they panted? She had little right to comment, though, sensing that she was dangerously close to hyperventilating. A faint trickle of wetness flowed down her perineum before tickling at her sensitive rear entrance. George stepped up between her legs, straddling the bed and the lower half of her body.

"We shall copulate now. If you would be more comfortable, I am willing to only inseminate your vaginal canal. The probability of you birthing at least one live offspring would still be acceptable."

She didn't even need to think.

"No, please use both."

Allison barely had the time to contemplate her choice of words when she felt the twin shafts press up against her twin entrances. Her lips fought to accommodate the large, blunt shaft, but her ass did little but retract and tighten against the pressure. She forced herself to relax, pushing out as he pushed in. She moaned in dual pleasure and agony as he slipped inside her, stretching both holes as his first inch pushed past her gates.

The thick coating of lubricant did well to ease the over-sized intruder in her ass as it slipped past her distended ring. The incredible girth slowly filling her ass stole her breath away, unaccustomed as she was to taking anything larger than a finger. Fleshy spines tickled her ring and lips before pushing in, prodding and catching on her every wet fold.

She had reached no further than the half-way point when a new sensation began to build inside her. The familiar warmth of arousal twisted into something new and much more pointed. She ached to have him - specifically him - inside her, to be stretched to her limit and inseminated. She wished desperately for more of his dripping fluids that her body knew brought this pleasure, even if she did not. Most of all, she yearned to be filled with eggs. The thought rose unbidden to her mind, planted inside her as an understanding that required no language to communicate. She wanted to become a host.

The more she embraced the idea, the stronger and deeper the pleasure became. Several inches yet remained outside her, yet she was already struggling to maintain some poise, her rapid breathing and pounding heart already well out of her control. The bumps that stretched her were no longer mere protrusions, but a promise of the eggs to come. Her obsession both frightened and aroused her as it crowded everything else out of her mind. She felt at ease, as though her life's ambition had been discovered and fulfilled all at once. Her part was to simply lay there, accept what was given, and drown in pleasure. From her standpoint, it was a pretty good deal.