The zoo

Two hours later the accelerated pregnancy reached its end.

Elle hung unconscious in the specialized birthing chair Sarah had ordered, legs forced wide in heavy restraints, belly still grotesquely swollen. The rented medical team—two efficient Class 2 nurses—worked between her spread thighs while the final contractions wrenched the last sounds from her throat. Sarah had already grown bored of the noise. She left them to it, walked into her bedroom, and slept lightly for nearly an hour, the distant screams serving as an oddly soothing background.

When she returned the child was out. A healthy infant, already cleaned and wrapped by the nurses. Sarah inspected it briefly, nodded once, then dismissed the medical team with a digital payment. She unlocked Mason’s cage and ordered him to his feet.

Elle was still strapped open, blood and residual fluids streaking her inner thighs and the chair. Sarah released the restraints, hauled the dazed, blood-smeared woman upright, and did the same with the newborn. Both were left completely naked. She loaded them into the back of a rented transport van like cargo—Elle barely conscious, the infant silent against her chest—and pushed Mason in after them.

The drive to the zoo was short. The manager, a young Class 1 woman with an easy professional smile, met them at a private side entrance.

“Welcome. We’re ready whenever you are.”

She led them on a brief tour first. The exhibits stretched in clean, modern enclosures. Many of the “animals” were heavily modified human women: some with forced animalistic features—digitigrade legs, elongated spines, permanently presented hips—others altered only enough to emphasize exotic traits. Women of clearly foreign origin were displayed in themed habitats that played on racial caricatures, locked behind glass or low barriers so visitors could observe them feeding, grooming, or being used by staff. A few enclosures held breeding groups already swollen with earlier pregnancies. Public viewing platforms overlooked everything. The overall atmosphere was calm, educational, and openly commercial.

They stopped at a row of smaller holding cages near the main breeding wing. Guests were already beginning to filter in for the afternoon.

Sarah asked which of the exhibits Mason should service first.

The manager laughed.

“Doesn’t matter. We’ll just move him from cage to cage. Visitors are arriving now—gives them something live to watch. Almost like the animals are free-ranging for the afternoon.”

She gestured toward the nearest occupied enclosure, where several modified women of different appearances already waited on the other side of the bars, some looking up with dull interest, others with visible nervousness.

“He can choose the first one himself if you like. Makes a nicer show for the audience.”

Sarah turned to Mason, still naked, still marked by the earlier use, and gave a small nod.

“Go on. Pick your first animal.”