\n\t\t\t\t\tigglypouDespite her work shift having just ended, Feligris feels inexplicably PISSED as she strolls along the narrow footpaths of the fruit gardens, swatting branches out of her way while waiting to be out of the hot and humid climate which the station maintains under the garden dome for the plants. Although the uncomfortable surroundings don’t help, it’s the surging cocktail of pregnancy hormones, the aching of her engorged breasts which bulge under her tight inmate suit, and the sheer size and weight of her extremely gravid uterus within which she can constantly feel her litter move, which really are driving her crazy by the time she reaches the utility hut in the middle of the dome and slams her hand on the button to open the stairwell door.
Grrrr… everything’s so difficult when I’m forced to be like this… she scowls as she’s forced to wrap one arm around her distended midsection to stabilize it while she slowly descends several flights of stairs, enjoying the dry coolness after the long shift. Though her mood doesn’t improve due to the knowledge that the embarrassing part still lies ahead as she makes her way along the spartan corridor towards the bulkhead door ahead.
Just as she approaches the door, it abruptly slides open amid soft chafing and hissing as if it had been expecting her, letting her through into the darkness beyond – her claws rapping against the steel flooring and her green eyes gleaming as she peers around while the door jerkily closes behind her, leaving her in near-complete darkness for the moment.
‘Come on, boys and girls, get to your stations and turn on the lights already! I know you want to ogle me, and I’d rather get this over with!’
A couple of seconds pass with no response, prompting Feligris to hiss under her breath before bright lights all around her instantaneously flick on to leave her on full display between two closed bulkhead doors and two walls with one-way mirrored windows which only show her own reflection no matter how hard she tries to spy for any figures behind them. A hidden loudspeaker soon crackles in the ceiling, the voice coming from it echoing in the chamber.
‘ -bzzt- Aren’t we particularly crabby and hormonal today, miss corsair queen? No worries, we’ll let you get to fill those pregnancy cravings – and those curves we love to ogle at – really soon! Heh.’
‘Fucking come in here and tell me I’m fat to my face – OWW!’
Unable to quite finish her reply before she flinches from a needle-like sharp pinch under her metal collar collar, leaving her to silently rub the back of her neck with a frustrated scowl while she turns sideways to pose herself at the whoever is behind the windows. Her large bushy tail twists and sweeps about furiously in the meantime, leaving shed fur behind on the floor and the air.
‘Tsk, tsk, mouthing off is so unladylike, you know we discourage it – and good, you know the drill, now make sure we get a good look at you.’
Unladylike… assholes… she ponders, and although she can’t see or feel it, she knows scanning beams are busy passing through her between the ceiling and the floor up until projected text appears on one of the walls and on the shiny surface of her suit which is stretched tight over the wide girth of her belly.
NAME: “CORSAIR QUEEN” FELIGRIS
GESTATION: 77% COMPLETE
SENTENCE: 4 OF 7 LITTERS COMPLETE
ASSIGNMENT: FRUIT SECTION
REMEMBER MILKING AFTER EACH SHIFT
‘Hmph, I’m still only at 77% done, eh? From how I look on the outside and feel on the inside I thought I’d be further along.’ she sighs after reading the scan, placing her hands on her rump and shaking her head as she straightens her pose which keeps slumping from the weight of her uterus.
‘ -crackle- -bzzt- We just calibrated the sensors so it ought to be right, and your current litter is noted to be larger than usual as per client request. But nothing out of ordinary today, so be on your way and do remember to report at the milking station!’
‘AS IF -’ Feligris begins before hastily clamping her maw shut and simply fuming quietly when the inner bulkhead door opens, her piercing gaze tracing over the windowed walls while she saunters out with a last muffled hiss when she’s forced to swiftly yank her long tail out of the way due to the door trying to immediately close on it.
After the door has closed…
‘You do like to yank her chain, don’t you?’
‘Hey! Don’t you take a moral high ground, I know how you look at her – and she’s cute when she’s angy.’
‘Ouch! Point taken… just beware of those claws or fangs if you figure out a way to do a physical on her…’
Back in the habitation module
The accommodations aboard the station for the inmates aren’t particularly fancy, but nevertheless much more comfortable than spending time working under the farming dome, and additionally Feligris is aware how both the food and the general treatment of inmates is decent compared to the usual prison setups out at the fringe sectors – because they don’t want us to be malnourished or unduly stressed in order to keep renting out our uteruses, huff. And collecting our milk too! I still wonder if it makes it into our food too…
With these thoughts she takes a few turns along the featureless winding corridors until she ends up at double doors marked “Medical Wing”, using the intercom beside them to be buzzed in. Once inside she’s faced with yet another situation of a windowed wall between herself and the employee portion of the wing, habitually walking over to a booth on the wall to sit into the restraining chair built into it and begrudgingly settling into it so that her ankle and wrist cuffs and collar get locked into place, physically restraining and also partially electronically paralyzing her. Finally a robotic arm swings out to place a muzzle on her, which takes a bit of wrangling thanks to her long sabre teeth, and the entire booth rotates around to leave her facing the bored looking lupine medic in her white and red jumpsuit.
‘Ah, my favourite inmate!’ she remarks, eliciting a gruff from Feligris whose tufted ears splay out. ‘And stop on that wounded pride, please, you know why we had that custom muzzle made for you – those giant incisors are scary when you wave them around! I know you want these two pumped so I’ll get right on it.’ she continues to muse while using her hand terminal to release the front of Feligris’ jumpsuit so that she can carefully unzip it all the way down to her gravid belly, reaching inside to pull the feline’s large breasts out one at a time while she squirms.
The female lupine then lets Feligris feel the air on her bare furry breasts for a moment while she goes on to wheel a rather industrial milking machine closer while Feligris’ ears remain fixated on it – I can’t stop thinking how it looks like they just took one meant for cattle and modified the suction cups, blergh – and once it’s in place beside the chair, she turns it on and places the suction heads on the feline’s large nipples so that they begin to pull her milk out, all while closely watching Feligris’ reactions to the sensation.
‘You always become so relaxed like two seconds after I get the suction cups on, those twins must really ache during the day, eh?’
The medic receives a mere muffled sheepish whine as a reply and Feligris’ whole body trembles as the rhythmic suction continues, at which point she jabs the feline’s gravid belly. ‘You have fun as usual, I have work to do!’
Nnnngh… why does it have to feel so good, it’s always so embarrassing… Feligris grumbles mentally, while observing the medic’s back as she works on laboratory samples and idly noting how curvy she is under her form-fitting suit. In the meantime she grows increasingly flustered from the enjoyable suction which gradually eases the aching of her milk glands until she’s rudely interrupted by a loud buzzing sound upon which the suction instantly stops.
‘Fun’s over for today, you naughty cat, go get some food and keep gestating this big litter! And maybe you’ll get out here eventually.’ the medic blurts as she spins around to step back over to Feligris, quickly plucking out the suction cups and cleaning her nipples before stuffing her boobs back into her suit to zip it up again and lock it up. The booth rotates around and the arm comes out to roughly undo the muzzle, leaving Feligris to straighten out her whiskers and cheek fur once she’s able to get back up.
‘THANK YOU, I GUESS!’ she yells at the medic behind the glass, unsure if she’s able to hear but nevertheless lingering for a bit to watch her wide hips move before she she slinks out through the double doors – holding her tail in her arms this time.
‘Oh yeah, food, I’m famished all the time these days – time to see if I can keep packing enough into my stomach with my womb taking up all the space in me.’ she mutters as she drops her tail down to support her middle with her arms instead, content to have her breasts relieved at least even if the litter keeps kicking her uterine walls and her bladder which is already painfully squished all the time. On her way towards the mess hall she hopes the next contract won’t be even larger or she might run out of room completely…
The end, for now again.
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