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Lime was in bliss. Every morning, Orange was on his knees and servicing them, mouth theirs to use until Lime was cumming and exhausted. White was a cuddler, soothing a cooling secretion over their straining belly until the skin was soft and supple, allowing Lime to sigh in relief that even the best cunnilingus could not soothe. In the evenings, Orange would again service them, shivery as Lime shocked them in increments to keep them docile and compliant.

If this was the price Lime paid for fucking monstrous aliens for the rest of their days, sign them the fuck up.

Lime swelled, some eggs not viable and dissolving, but more than enough had been fertilized and now grew in their body, though not by much. Lime wondered if they could host more eggs, have more put inside, seeing as their body wasn’t quite that large for a pregnancy. In fact, Lime looked maybe four or five month along, almost able to hide their belly in the oversized spacesuit. They wanted to be too round for that, too full and heavy.

Lime wanted an excuse to be lazy but also to get more sex.

It seemed like a good way to get both in quality as well as quantity.

Lime was a slut and a ho, but that didn’t mean they had to take substandard bullshit to get what they wanted. If Lime just happened to get exactly what they wanted and a harem of easily subdued aliens, well. That was just cream in their coffee. Really, it wasn’t that hard. And, with less than a month to a space station port, Lime didn’t have to worry about being called on for duties they pretty much hated.

“I’m surprised you’re not writhing in agony and laying our young yet,” grumbled Orange as he rubbed Lime’s feet that night, Lime a puddle of goo in their bunk. White made a protesting noise, cuddling Lime higher up their chest. “Oh, shut it. We never dealt with mammals except as food before.”

White spluttered as Lime laughed, head thrown back and body shaking. “A few weeks are so much better than eight to ten months,” they finally retort, cheeks warm and rounded with the small amount of weight they had put on. “I'm definitely not complaining.”

Both Imposters flinched at the mention of months. Mammals were so slow at building their numbers, and yet were still successful at over-running themselves. It was insane, honestly. Lime would definitely be one of the weird humans to fit right in as a self-established breeder and do it well. Do it enthusiastically, even.

So Lime was pampered. Week one went by slowly, some eggs popping hard enough Lime felt it, others dissolving gently. Orange’s eggs swelled more than White’s, the membranes soft compared to the harder, thicker shell of the larger eggs. Yet, he had lost more eggs, terminated due to a series of reasons. White had far less eggs, yet far less failures or growth.

Week two brought about random bouts of hunger, cravings, and sleeping more and more often.

Week three was when the Imposters went on tenterhooks. They were extra vigilant as the time for the arrival at the station got closer, Lime barely able to hide their bulk in an older, larger lime-colored suit found in storage. Week four was docking week, everyone helping to clean the ship and check inventory for restocking. Lime was fine, humming to themself as they worked, clipboard in hand and at least one hovering lover-slash-baby-daddy. They did notice Black starting to pay them more attention, but that was neither here nor there.

The day of the docking came upon them swiftly and before long, Lime was in private quarters on the station as professional stockers and cleaners went to town on their ride. For once, neither White nor Orange was at hand and Lime felt a little upset about that. So much so that they were pacing, rearranging bed clothes, ordering more, putting them in the nest, and then starting all over.

When their door beeped for entry, Lime didn’t think to hide their body, didn’t think that anyone other than White or Orange would show up. That’s why when they saw Black, Lime froze. That’s when it happened. Watery fluid dropped down their leg and Lime looked surprised as they looked down at the sudden puddle. Black was taken aback, head tilted.

“Oh. My water broke.”

Black was a militant creature, one born and bred for combat. He was dangerous and sharp and had ten ways to kill a human with one limb. He was not ready for Lime to go into labor.

It startled him enough to make his body buckle under the illusion of humanity for a second, one he couldn't hide or divert. So having the human Lime relax and beckon him in was strange and surreal. Having them lock the door as they waddled to their… nest—why had they built such a nest? Was that normal human stuff? It was strange and unusual and Black had never seen it before even as Lime settled inside, hands resting on their spread knees once their undergarments were discarded.

“How good are you at catching eggs?”

Black blinked back to awareness of the human, brow vanishing as his limbs distorted more. Perhaps he could scare—wait. Eggs. Eggs? What did they mean eggs? “EGGS?”

Lime grimaced. “Yup, and here comes the first one… owwie…”

Black did not faint. He didn’t.

(Okay, maybe he did.)

Lime sighed as Black slumped over before taking a deep breath. Lamaze classes, who knew they would come in handy? Thankfully, their sibling had made Lime go with them back planet side and now they had an idea of what was happening. What to expect when you’re expecting eggs, however, was a little bit different to expecting a live human infant. For one, Lime wasn’t pushing a watermelon out their body, just some eggs, some which may or may not fall under fist-sized at max. For two, Lime didn’t have a doctor on hand, just two very inexperienced alien lovers and one alien who fainted at the mere mention of them laying eggs.

Yeah, no. Lime was on their own and that was fine. It was fine. All of it was fine.

“I’m training them in midwifery,” Lime grunted, waiting out the contractions that stole their breath and made them flinch. To be fair, the alien carriers were probably attended by other carriers and the studs would never see this side of reproduction, but that didn’t help them right now. Slow deep breaths between contractions that gained intensity and spite as their body readied itself kept Lime from crying loudly or passing out, but only just. It was as the first egg actually settled into place that they realized how many times they would have to do this.

“Oh fuck me,” they snapped, baring down as the egg slowly moved, stretching them out in reverse. Of course, that’s what got them into this situation. They laughed, the egg pushing down faster and faster as they bore down. The sudden and utter relief of the egg popping out onto the bedding was instantaneous, Lime glad the smooth surface didn’t catch on their vaginal lips. They didn’t get to celebrate long as another lined up. They bore down on the contraction and three eggs left their body, sliding down to land alongside their sibling. Lime whimpered, shaking already.

It wasn’t just from the mild pain of a dilated cervix. Lime had actually had worse pain during the act of receiving the eggs. This, in turn, has made the pain part of the sexual experience. Made it equate desire and arousal.

Lime was getting horny.

“This is f-fucking rid-diculous.”

With the floodgates open and their womb expelling their strange young, it was no wonder that Lime started to bliss out, body working on automatic as egg after egg dropped from their body, traveled the length of their channel, and pooled at their heels. They were delirious with it, the need to keep pushing, to feel the sting and burn and sharp pain followed by the tease of the egg vacating their body. Lime knew they were in trouble, knew that they would want this again and again, more and more and more until they were used up and useless. So when the last egg left them empty and barren, Lime knew they would ask for more. Beg for it. Kneel in supplication for it.

They were in big trouble.

Once Lime was coherent enough to realize what was happening around them, they swiftly checked their new little eggies. There were… more than they thought had survived. Fourteen from White with those eggs the size of ping pong balls, and twenty-nine from Orange, half the size of White’s. The blanket they were sitting on was soaked through, but the eggs were still warm to the touch.

“Oh stars—!”

Lime looked up to see Black staring at the pile of eggs, glancing back and forth to them and the eggs. Lime gave a tired wave as they started to clean up. They had a basket set aside for the eggs, though it might not be large enough now. Lime frowned as they stripped the bed as they gently wiped each egg clean and settled them one by one in their smaller, snugger nest. After that, they hitched the back on their shaky hip and went to take a very well deserved shower.

Black followed, mesmerized. Lime wasn’t even offended, well aware how rare it was to have more than a handful of viable young from a successful breeding. Here were more than three dozen babies that would eventually hatch and then begin their journey to adulthood. Laying their heated pad over it, Lime stepped into the shower to clean up and relax.

The heat was very welcome, their body relaxing as the stress from birthing forty-three eggs drained away. By the time they stepped out, Black was on the floor, cradling the basket of eggs as he lost the hominid shape for something more quadrupedal. Or, uh. There were eight legs, actually, the face having elongated with an empty helmet set aside. He still looked like an eyeless, jackal-headed conglomeration of canine and arachnid. The thorax-torso pinched at the waist like a wasp, a bulbous abdomen immediately attached.

Before Lime could get more in depth of their new “friend”, Black was looking at them—for a given of looking. “All of these young… they are viable!”

Lime hummed as they dried off, wincing when the cloth rubbed over their loins. Even if the birthing had been exceptionally fun, they were not up to play any time soon. They were sore. “From what I’ve been told, that’s not very common anymore.”

“It isn’t common at all!!” The alien clicked and clacked in the back of his throat, noises Lime had no way of making themselves. “This is unprecedented! Our kind has been dying for centuries, our numbers dwindling, and you! You lay more eggs that will produce sprats than all of a sector’s carriers combined! At once!”

Lime pulled a robe on, starting to remake their nest. “Yes, well, it will be a few weeks before I can do that again. I’m not made for that, exactly, so I need to heal first.”

Honestly, there was “gene therapy” available, but their pay grade was along the lines of broker-than-broke but also on the poverty line. Like, technically above it as long as they didn’t buy sanitary necessities, food, or clothing. So, yeah. Broke. Being in space allowed them to save up so they could own things like a roof over their head since the company paid for everything else, even if it was shit when push came to shove.

Still, free food and lodgings and necessities was absolutely the perk. Healthcare was decent. Not great by any stretch, but useable.

Damn, Lime was tired of this was where their brain was at. They needed a nap and to cuddle their eggs. Pulling a clean blanket over their shoulders, Lime took their eggs to bed and was soon asleep.

Black had not been ready. Black was still not ready.

There were forty-three viable eggs sitting right there. His own egg sacks tightened as desire filled him. Their carrier, however, was a human. It was unheard of! Centuries of pure creatures and then this human, this carrier swept in and thrust the failures of his kind in his face. He had never seen this many sprats in all his life. His enhanced hearing, smell, and thermal vision allowed him to know the sprats were moving, coordination and energy in spades as they coiled and bent in their confines. If they didn’t hatch within the next three cycles, he would be surprised.

Glancing back at their exhausted carrier, he made a human face, frowning as deeply as his mandibles and jaw allowed. It was unheard of, unprecedented, and obviously against the rules. Rules he was made and bred to enforce. Rules he was actively ignoring now that he knew this was possible. And subordinates he was going to kick out the stars' be damned airlock.

Making his way to the door, he hesitated. If he left now and undid the locks, who would see? Who would come into a room without permission? On this space station, Black thought of far too many. The gentle knock at the locked door brought him back to attention. Adjusting his vocal chords to the of the human’s, he called out.

“Who’s there?”

Orange answered, tone sharp and biting but otherwise comfortable speaking to the human. White piped up right after and Back wondered how this whole mess happened.

It wouldn’t do to actually kill two who had successfully bred a non-species carrier, one that even seemed happy to do it again. Opening the door, he glared at them from the sliver that allowed them to see him. Orange sighed while White attempted to leave. Black swiped them both into the room, closing the door more forcefully than he had meant to.

It was time they had a talk…