Final destination

The five-minute limit held. Staff moved Mason from enclosure to enclosure without pause. By the time the public hours wound down he had been forced through more than five hundred of the modified women. His body operated on pure rule-driven mechanics—hard at every touch, filling each one on command, never emptying. The viewing platforms stayed crowded until the last cage.

Only then did they bring Elle forward. She was still naked, still marked with dried blood from the earlier birth. The newborn was placed in her arms and she was ordered to nurse while Mason mounted her from behind on the same low bench. Sarah reopened the specialized window with a single kick order, then stepped back.

Mason fucked her with the same mechanical intensity the rules demanded. The accelerated pregnancy began almost at once; her belly started to round again under the volume. Elle’s small body could not absorb the combination of the renewed speed-pregnancy, the relentless thrusting, and the sheer quantity of cum. Something internal tore. She convulsed once, milk still leaking from her breast into the infant’s mouth, then went completely slack. The nurses confirmed it moments later: dead.

The two Class 1 women—Sarah and the zoo manager—exchanged a brief, amused look.

“Fewer mouths to feed at dinner,” the manager said lightly. “We’ll still take the infant. The corpse can go to the rendering side.”

Sarah accepted the adjusted payment without argument. Mason was cleaned off with a hose, loaded back into the van, and returned to the apartment in silence. The dead weight of Elle and the living infant were left at the zoo.

Late that night the doorbell rang again.

The birthday girl stood there glowing with satisfaction, her friends waiting by the car. Between them they carried what remained of Simone. The Class 2 woman had been reduced to a torso—arms and legs removed cleanly at the joints, eyes destroyed, nose broken and flattened. Against every expectation her large breasts were still intact, unmarked except for residual bruises and dried fluids. She was conscious, breathing in short ragged pulls, but no longer capable of speech.

The girl handed over the final digital transfer—onehundred dollars for the rent—plus the extras for the missing limbs. She thanked Sarah brightly, mentioned they had filmed everything, and left.

Sarah looked down at the mutilated torso on her floor, then at Mason still kneeling where she had left him. She felt no particular emotion beyond mild practical interest. The Class 2 had earned her fee. The apartment was quiet again except for the wet sound of Simone’s breathing.

Sarah locked Mason back in the cage for the night and went to bed, already considering what other uses the remaining pieces might still have.