Carrion415 was old, but she was well-respected. She had been the first to carry dizygotic twins for two different sets of parents. Just thirteen she had been, and as narrow-hipped as a garter-snake, but she had carried them to term. A boy for his family in Berlin; a girl for her family in Melbourne. Five years later: trizygotic triplets! For that, she had earned the right to a Delivery Boy of her choice.

Nobody remembered how many she had Carried anymore. Perhaps not even Carrion415 herself. And no losses for the company. Not one! If the Carrion of paper tiger  corp had been allowed such foolishness, they might have worshipped her.

But Carrion415 was tired. As the baby in her turned, pain shot through her inner thighs. Her skin felt stretched too thin. Like a balloon that has been inflated and emptied too many times.

She dreamed of the mothers and fathers who held her babies. Plump, wealthy parents. Mothers with flat bellies. In her dreams, all the fathers were like the boy she had known before her contract matured. The one who had stolen a kiss from her, even though they had both known she belonged to the paper tiger corp.

It was just one kiss, but she dreamed of it still, and of the blush that consumed her afterwards. The heat that had risen inside her. Oh, that heat was rising still.