Tomorrow's a child

A passing nurse stopped for a moment outside birthing room 7, to chat with the midwife standing there in idle patience.

"Not quite yet then?" He asked, smiling the distracted smile of the perpetually overworked.

"No… shouldn't be too long though. She's got a good set of hips on her, for such a young thing. I expect she'll get a nice, regular crop going after this first one's out the way."

The nurse nodded contentedly. The first harvest was always the hardest, for their baby-making charges… both physically and emotionally. The breeding centre went to great pains to offer as much support and comfort as could possibly be provided... but, at the end of the day… There was still a good amount of nature's contentious wiles to the process. After their second or third, the girls could usually just pump out another child for the Homes every 9 months, like clockwork. Up till then, however; there tended to be a good amount of gritted teeth and tears.

"And what about this one?" He asked, finally drawing attention to the small, kneeling figure who had been on its knees between them the whole time. Jesse’s head was buried securely between the thighs of the more qualified medical practitioner, her hand gripping the back of his head encouragingly through the rubbery material of her uniform.

"Oh, he's some friend of the momma-to-be… it's quite sweet actually. He got special permission from his fancy slut-school to be here. Who knows what kinda extra study practice he'd have to have put in to make that deal. You know what those cane and ruler places are like…"

The male nurse's commiserating face made clear he did, at least by gossip and rumor's standards. Though, he also gained a glint to his eyes as to why his colleague was making use of this cute, little treat while she had the chance. The toys the company provided in their own break room tended to be overused and barely trained… clearly 3rd class submissives bought in bulk from the Algorithm’s discount auctions. Of course, you could always go and play with the breeders… but those passive, pampered creatures were not to everybody's taste. No, there was definitely something special about a pretty teen in a pleated skirt who absolutely needed you to get off on their practiced attentions. The bastards who could afford such playthings better bloody appreciate what they were getting.

The two staff members made their goodbyes, one not wanting to stick around as the other began her red-faced build up to an all-encompassing orgasm. Jesse was always surprised how easy it was to bring some strangers to climax… compared to the concise and demanding perfection his teachers demanded. This nice lady must have spent a good chunk of her monthly salary just to rent him for these five panting minutes in a corridor. The sissy only wished he could offer a little more for free, to anyone who was working to help his dear Betsy in this moment. He felt so useless and lost in the sidelines of that room, while everyone else seemed to know exactly what their job was and where they needed to be. Seeing the person he had always privately considered the most tough and unshakeable in all the world, huff and puff her way through breathing exercises and clear waves of distress… shook him to the core. He had indeed had to move mountains and face Madame Stanfield herself in order to gain permission to be here… Yet, what good was a tarted-up femboy trained in twelve different ways to innocently lean forward and wiggle his bottom, in the real world?

The midwife gathered herself together and led him back inside, pulling up her panties and heading straight for the wash basin to regain some sense of hygiene and cleanliness. The young woman in the bed was still being guided through counting minutes between contractions… trying her best to politely smile her way through all the complex, arguing signals her body was sending her. For months, she had been guided through every inch of this ‘miracle of nature’. Prepared for every eventuality in achieving the purpose the Grand Algorithm had laid out for her, in order to produce the precious product that Procreation Centre 57 existed to generate. So many thoughts were rushing through her head… caught up in all that she had learned in her illicit dives into the records room, and all the hormones roaring through her veins. Nothing seemed to make sense in the clear and outlined way that her life had seemed guided up till now. Everything seemed to be swelling up in these waves that engulfed every muscle and nerve in her body, blotting out every shape and face and word that surrounded her. Ready to break upon the shore of tomorrow and ravage its coastline with changes that never could be gone back upon. A decision was being made, in her and through her. The young woman could feel it as palpably part of the new life pushing itself through her innards, towards the light. Yet she couldn’t focus on it at all… couldn’t guess at even a hint of what shape it might take… past the pure exertion of allowing it to happen.

Suddenly, through the haze… Someone she could see appeared. Jesse. Her dear Jesse. Here with her as he would always have had to have been. His eyes were glistening with worry and doubt, beautiful and pure as they ever were. She reached out a hand and wiped one from his cheek, immune to all pain for a moment… besides that of upsetting him. She felt his delicate, soft fingers enlace with her own… and knew nothing could stop her with such jewels to defend. This baby was going to enter the world on the back of love insurmountable.