Work Text:
“In these days of uncertainty and colony collapse, it is becoming increasingly apparent that the only way forward is an increased fertility output for any hive which wishes to remain viable. The old Royal System is not only ill-suited to these increased demands, but the cruelty of feeding a potential worker the Jelly and turning them into a bloated, dimwitted queen, has long been a source of controversy.
But no more! Hybrid Incubators are the new wave of the future. By transferring the duties of pregnancy to our product, the hatch rate of your colony can be increased up to ten-fold. In addition to this, you will notice a marked uptick in hive moral once all colony workers are able to have a part in the reproduction ritual!”
The Salesbee emphasized her point by tapping on the upward slope of one of her graphs. The Sisterhood of Apis Colony conferred among themselves. Their Queen had passed away over the winter and their stores were depleted. They desperately needed more workers to refresh themselves. Some of the Sisterhood had started laying unfertilized eggs out of desperation, but so far all of their efforts had hatched into Drones, straining the hive's already stressed resources. Collapse was imminent, but the Sisterhood had yet to find a willing volunteer to take the Jelly.
“This could save us,” one of the Sisters buzzed.
“She is a Solitary,” another protested, “what could she know of hive life? Her words are nectar from a poisoned petal.”
“Does that mean you volunteer?”
“What other choice do we have?”
“The Sisterhoods of Mellifera and Cerana were very satisfied with the results from my product,” the Salesbee buzzed. “If it would help your decision making, I offer a DIY demo package. It included one unmodified female, tool kit, and supplements. It’s a reduced rate – no honey down – no honey, period, if you are not fully satisfied, that’s how much confidence I have that you will love my Incubators.”
An uncertain buzz went through the gathered members of the Sisterhood.
“We accept your demo offer,” a Sister said.
The Salesbee fluttered her wings. “You will not be disappointed.”
*
“When she said DIY, she wasn’t joking,” a Sister said, lightly prodding the bound bundle the Salesbee had delivered to the hive entrance. The pathetic looking lump of soft, mammalian flesh whimpered at her touch. It was a disgusting creature, with wax-like skin, greasy black hair, no exo-skeleton to speak of, and only four, feeble limbs.
“According to the anatomy charts, this is the mouth.” The Sister reading the instructions used her feelers to probe at the Incubator’s ugly, fleshy lips. The Incubator snapped at her. The Sister promptly withdrew her feeler before it could be injury by the Incubator’s teeth. “Who has the safety feeder?”
The metal gag was retrieved from the pile of tools that had come with the Incubator and passed to the Sister closest to the creature’s mouth. The Incubator clenched her teeth. Her ugly, single lensed eyes seemed to roll around in her head, looking from Sister to Sister. It was disturbing. Three Sisters working together forced her jaw open so that the two metal bits of the gag could be locked into place between her teeth. The gag was secured behind her head, a handle turned, and the woman’s mouth was forced into a painfully wide gape.
“Step one: apply safety feeder. Done. Step two: mix supplements into Jelly.”
Several Sisters knelt in a circle, bending their heads so they faced into a specially crafted cell. The other Sisters chanted together and danced as the foreheads of the kneeling Sisters began to glisten and slowly, drop by drop, to excrete the pale and miraculous liquid which could turn a vibrant and intelligent Worker into a bloated, mindless Queen. The bound Incubator lay on its side watching the proceedings, its mouth warped into a ghoulish smile by the gag, eyes red and running with salty liquid.
“Step three: while preparing supplemented Jelly, lubricate Incubator for posterior insertions.”
A few Sisters broke away from the group dancing for the Jelly makers. They pushed the Incubator onto its back and untied its legs for better access. The Incubator promptly began kicking at them, forcing several more Sisters to join them. Three Sisters on each side were required to spread the Incubator’s legs, revealing the two openings tucked between them.
The Sister who had been reading the instructions set them aside for a moment. She wiped her forehead with her front right arm, smearing its final segment with pure Jelly. The Incubator squirmed as she approached. The Sister used her un-Jellied segments to spread open the folds of the Incubator’s ventral posterior hole before slowly pressing her lubricated segment inside of it. The Incubator bucked and let out a low keening sound. The Sister could feel its muscles and strange, yielding tissues attempting to clench around the exoskeleton of her forearm.
The Sister pressed deeper, ensuring that the Incubator would be fully lubricated and stretched for the next step. She wiped her forehead with her left forearm, and then used the newly jellied segment to probe the Incubator’s second opening.
The dorsal hole was small and tighter. The instructions had made it clear that it made require a more delicate touch than the ventral posterior aperture. The Sister patiently wiggled her segment against its puckered entrance. Her exoskeleton was much harder than the Incubator’s soft flesh. It would be easy to force her way inside, but the instructions had cautioned that doing so could lead to damage which would void the Incubator’s warranty.
It took many minutes, but the Sister eventually managed to insert the tip of her left forearm into the Incubator’s second posterior opening. Using her left midarm, she wiped her forehead again, adding more Jelly. The Incubator’s skin was shiny with sweat, and Jelly, and the clear fluid that leaked out as the Sister worked her way in deeper, filling both openings at once.
Behind her, the dancing and chanting droned to a close.
“The Jelly is mixed,” a Sister announced.
With a twinge of disappointment, the Sister between he Incubator’s leg withdrew her arms and retrieved the instructions for the next step. The Incubator moaned and babbled. The Sister thought of this process being carried out on herself or one of her fellow workers and shuddered. If using mammalian hybrids was successful it would be a huge improvement to the traditional order of things. For such a gross and malformed creature, transformation into a Queen might actually be an improvement on its current state.
The Incubator continued to squirm and resist as the Sisters inserted the metal nozzle at the end of the Jelly delivery tubes into its posterior openings. Supplemented Jelly was poured into bag, attached to the tubes, and lifted into the air by teams of flying Sisters. The Incubator thrashed and nearly dislodged the tubing when the flow started. Sisters poured wax over its limbs to secure them into place. The Incubator whimpered as the wax hardened around it. Drool poured from its mouth as a sister maneuvered a feeding funnel into place.
“Pour at a steady rate, leaving regular intervals for respiration,” the Sister with the instructions read.
Jugs of supplemented Jelly were administered according to her direction.
The Incubator’s belly became to swell. Steaks appeared on its side as its skin stretched under the strain of its expanding gut. A Sister tapped the Incubators stomach. It made a hollow, sloshing sound. The Sisters continued feeding and pouring until the many gallons of supplemented Jelly had been administered and the Incubator’s midsection was distended almost beyond recognition. With the feeding finished, the gag was removed.
The Incubator slackly opened and closed its mouth, making a strange breathy sound. More liquid leaked from its eyes, but the Sister with the instructions assured the others that this was normal. The nozzles in its posterior openings were carefully removed and replaced with a pair of metal plugs to prevent the Incubator from expelling any of the Jelly.
“Step five: Apply suction and external stimulation to encourage metamorphosis,” the Sister with he instructions read.
Small vacuum pumps were attached to the Incubator’s nipples and the sensitive lump of tissue above its ventral posterior opening. The Incubator let out a sharp cry as the suction was turned on, followed by a series of high pitched sobs. According to the instructions, this was a happy response as the Incubator realized that its useless clitoris would soon be re-purposed into an ovipositor.
“How long before it’s ready?” a Sister asked.
The Sister with the instructions flipped through the pages.
“It says that with daily doses of jelly and alteration between suction and vibration, the Incubator should be ready to receive her first eggs within a single fortnight.”
*
The Sisters gathered around their Incubator.
It had been an arduous two weeks. With most of the worker population tasked with caring for the Incubator during its metamorphosis, there had been less nectar gathered than usual. Many of the Sisters were hungry. Even if they wanted to, the hive was now too depleted to raise a natural Queen even if they wanted to. The Incubator was their only hope.
It had swollen grotesquely from the constant feedings, but otherwise, it looked much more beautiful and healthy than it had at the start. The Incubator’s skin was now a hard, shiny black, striped with yellow where it had cracked as it grew. The greasy locks of hair had long since fallen out and been cleared away. While the Incubator’s facial features would never be pretty, the set of maxillae which now protruded from the sides of its mouth made it significantly less ugly.
Its mammalian breasts had grown, especially the nipples, which now functioned as glands to produce Royal Jelly. For several days, the Sisters had been able to harvest all of the Jelly needed for the Incubator’s feedings from the Incubator itself, which had helped to relieve some of the strain on the colony.
The most dramatic transformations had occurred between the Incubators legs. Under the regime of constant suction and vibration, its clitoris had grown into a thirty-inch long ovipositor. The long, narrow, protuberance of flesh was extremely sensitive. The slightest touch and the Incubator would scream and thrash, its oversized stomach heaving as it gasped for air.
“Release the Drones,” a Sister solemnly buzzed.
The mindless, muscle-bound males were escorted to the Incubator by a guard of highly trained Sisters. The rest of the Sisterhood watched the proceedings from behind clear wax barriers. The Drones buzzed in hormonal frenzy when presented with the Incubator, unable to tell this distorted parody of a natural Queen from the real thing. They immediately set to the task of fertilization. Instinctively jabbing their bulbous, hooked penises into the Incubator’s posterior openings.
When they had finished, the trained Sisters herded them away, back to their normal holding cells. The clear wax wall was dismantled, and the Sisters of the Hive of Apis formed a line. One by one they approach the Incubator. One by one they pledged their allegiance to her as their Queen. One by one they positioned their ovipositor into a posterior hole. Each Sister deposited a single, rounded egg. With each egg, the already hugely deform stomach of the Incubator Queen grew larger. The Incubator Queen moaned. The yellow stripes on her side increased in width. The eggs the Sisters laid would be fertilized inside the Incubator Queen by the Drone sperm. The Incubator Queen would then carry the eggs to term, her warm, mutated body providing the perfect environment for their development into Workers.
The eggs would be laid out of the Incubator Queen’s newly formed ovipositor. The Sisters of the Hive of Apis would care for them and raise them to adulthood. The Sister would collect nectar. The Drones would act as guard dogs and sperm donors. The Incubator Queen would be bred again and again and again.
And the colony would survive.
“Would you like to purchase another?” the Salesbee asked, watching over the proceedings.
For the Sisterhood of the Hive of Apis, it was an easy answer:
“We’ll take three.”