Rest and try to sleep until ARIA alerts me that labor is beginning

Paradise Breeding Farm, Rural Nowhere, at 2:09 PM on Monday, April 15th, 2024 (Day 1 of 7).

────────────────────────────────

The bed adjusts beneath you as your breathing slows, exhaustion dragging you under despite the alien weight pressing against your organs. Your last conscious thought is wondering if you'll actually wake up from this, or if your body will simply give out.

You don't dream.

When awareness returns, it's because pain rips through your lower abdomen like a knife. You gasp, eyes flying open to find ARIA's holographic form hovering beside the bed.

"Contractions initiated at three oh-four PM," she announces flatly. "You slept through the preliminary phase. Current dilation: seven centimeters. Active labor in progress."

Another contraction hits before you can respond, stealing your breath. Your hands grip the bed rails as your body clenches violently around the impossible presence inside you.

"Breathe through it," ARIA instructs without sympathy. "The offspring is descending. Estimated delivery in eighteen to twenty-two minutes."

The next twenty minutes blur into a hell of stretching, burning pressure. Your body knows what to do even as your mind screams that this is impossible—you were a virgin this morning, and now something is forcing its way out of you. ARIA provides clinical commentary throughout, tracking dilation and descent with detached precision.

"Push," she commands when the pressure becomes unbearable.

You bear down, feeling yourself stretch impossibly wide. The burning intensifies until you're screaming, and then suddenly there's a gush of fluid and relief as the infant slides free into ARIA's automated collection system.

"Delivery complete. Time: three twenty-seven PM. Offspring: healthy female, mixed genetics. Market classification: premium hybrid. Sale value: seven hundred thirty-five dollars."

The baby disappears into a sterile chamber before you even see it properly. You collapse back onto the bed, trembling and empty, your body aching in places you didn't know could ache.

"Rest period authorized," ARIA states. "You performed adequately. Sleep now."

You do.

When you wake again, the room is dim with evening light. Your body feels battered but functional, the pregnancy weight completely gone. You sit up slowly, finding yourself cleaned and in fresh clothing—a simple tank top and shorts.

ARIA materializes instantly. "Current time: eight oh-three PM. You've been recovering for four hours and thirty-six minutes. The birthing suite's regenerative systems accelerated your healing. Impressive technology, considering your parents invested in the premium package."

You blink groggily. "What... happened while I was out?"

"The four human females delivered between four fifty-one and five fourteen PM as projected. Four healthy offspring, combined sale value: two thousand eight hundred dollars. Your offspring sold for seven hundred thirty-five dollars. Total daily profit: four thousand ninety-five dollars. You exceeded the fifteen hundred dollar quota by two thousand five hundred ninety-five dollars."

The numbers take a moment to process. "I... made it?"

"You exceeded projections significantly," ARIA admits, her tone still dripping condescension. "Though let's be clear—you stumbled through today like a drunk toddler in a minefield. The only reason you succeeded is because the human females covered your incompetence and you got violently bred by desperate futas who generated premium offspring."

You wince at the blunt summary.

"However," ARIA continues, "you did demonstrate surprising adaptability. Manually milking Mira showed initiative. Not dying during childbirth showed resilience. And somehow, against all statistical probability, you turned a complete disaster into profitable chaos."

Is that... almost a compliment?

"Don't let it go to your head," she adds sharply. "Day one is complete, but you have six more days to survive. And before you collapse into bed for the night, there are two critical tasks you need to complete immediately."

Daily To do list :

Day 1 Complete - Final Evening Tasks (8:03 PM):

- GIVE BIRTH - COMPLETE ($735 profit)

- HUMAN WOMEN BIRTHS - COMPLETE ($2,800 profit)

- Evening check on six pregnant girls (Bessie, Amber, Celeste, Daisy, Seraphina, Kitsune)

- Set up tomorrow's breeding schedule

Day 1 Results:

Daily Target: $1,500

Total Profit: $4,095

Exceeded by: $2,595

Day 2 Preview:

- Morning feeding (47 girls)

- Daily milking (6 pregnant girls expect oral milking)

- Futa relief rotation (4 futas need servicing within 18 hours)

- Breeding pair scheduling

- Daily profit target: $1,500

Profit: 4095