Done Deal?

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Notes: This one has stuff with group sex and lactation … go figure.
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The Elders and the Clan Mothers agreed with Chak’tou that his son should be spared. That means, at least until I give birth, I will be spared. The female medic, Rah’chond, is charged with my care. Her predictions about my pregnancy are 100% right. When I go into labor at seven months, my body is already impossibly large and I simply can’t eat enough to sustain the two of us. The baby, already a strapping fifteen pounds, is too big to pass between my legs, so they have to cut him out. Since one of the trials for Yautja females is that they must be able to deliver their babies naturally, without medical intervention, they have no idea how to perform a C-section. I nearly die from the shock and the blood loss. I am determined, however, to hold my son, so I adamantly refuse to die or even lose consciousness.

When Rah’chond puts him in my arms, I tear up. He looks less alien than I expect. When I unwrap him, there’s no question he’s a boy. His skin is a much paler green than his father’s and he has no spots. Rah’chond explains his pattern will assert itself around the time he starts to walk. The ridge around his skull is barely noticeable and his mandibles are tiny and quite delicate. Rah’chond tells me even Yautja females would be unable to deliver their babies if the mandibles were proportional at birth. Besides, they would just get in the way when feeding. His eyes are yellow, like Chak’tou’s, and they focus as well as they can on my face. My voice rivets him.

“He knows you’re his mother,” Rah’chond notes.

The baby coos at me, waving his little mandibles and displaying his comforting lack of teeth. Rah’chond has warned me that even without them, it’ll probably hurt when he suckles. Experimentally, I give him my knuckle, which his inner mouth latches onto greedily. The amount of force he exerts is impressive. Now I understand why Rah’chond has tortured me through nipple toughening exercises for the last two months.

He releases my finger and protests, crying for the first time. That he might be hungry doesn’t surprise me at all. I look at Rah’chond uncertainly. I don’t know how to breastfeed a human baby, let alone a Yautja one.

“Here,” she says, helping me to position the baby.

“Ahhhhhh,” I gasp, because the pain of him latching onto my nipple is bracing.

I stroke his little skull, trying to ignore it. He sucks vigorously, purring contentedly, so he must be getting something. His little hand, its claws newborn soft, pats my breast. He closes his eyes, sporting a pleased expression I’ve seen on his father many, many times.

“Where is Chak’tou?” I ask.

Rah’chond chuckles. “It’s up to the mother when the father gets to see the baby.”

I know Chak’tou has been anxious because of the unusual circumstances of this child’s existence. He has even seemed concerned about what this pregnancy might do to me. “Has he been told I went into labor?”

“Yes. I’ll go see if he’s waiting outside.”

He beats Rah’chond back into the room, his eager eyes fixed on his son. I’m surprised when he spares me a glance.

“You okay, Kat?” he asks.

I smile, his concern touching me more than I should let it. “Your son is trying to tear my nipple off, but I think I’ll survive.”

The baby starts to chuff at my breast, sounding irritated.

“You need to let him try to tear off the other one off for awhile,” Rah’chond teases. “I think the one he’s got is empty.”

She helps me shift him to the other breast. I try to not to let on how painful it is in front of his father, but the tears that roll down my cheeks give it away. Chak’tou leans over and licks my face, which makes me cry more. He rubs my back with one hand and lets me. With the other, he unwraps his son and examines him the same way I did. His purr swells.

“He looks perfect,” Chak’tou confirms at last.

“So what happens to me now?” I ask, sobering.

“As long as the child breast feeds, you can’t go anywhere,” Rah’chond points out. “Not even the Elders and the Clan Mothers would jeopardize his health by denying him his mother’s milk.”

“We can always make you pregnant again,” Chak’tou suggests and he’s only half-joking.

Rah’chond takes him seriously, her amber eyes regarding him gravely. “Kat’s lucky to be alive. We had to cut the baby out of her and she almost bled to death. She won’t be in any condition to have sex for quite awhile.”

To my surprise, I feel as disappointed as Chak’tou looks. We had some mighty fine sex all the way up until I delivered. Rah’chond catches our mutual expression.

“Not only that, but Kat’s going to need to be sleeping anytime she’s not eating or feeding this baby. She’s pretty weak.”

“I’d like to stay with her,” Chak’tou offers.

To say I’m shocked is an understatement.

Rah’chond’s reaction is more jaundiced. “I told you, no sex,” she repeats, flatly.

“I do have some self-control,” he intones, with considerable annoyance. “I think she sleeps better with me next to her.”

My medic is no dummy. “And you sleep better with her next to you, too,” she adds, and I can tell he’s embarrassed.

Chak’tou acts like he doesn’t care, but on some level, I know he does. There are things he’s said and done that undermine his act, things that have nothing to do with the baby. At some point in our travels, I went from nameless human sex slave to Kat, mate and mother. I know mother is the more important of the two, however. Mate doesn’t mean for Yautja what it does for humans.

Yautja aren’t monogamous, not even those who pair bond. Although females can mate at any time, most aren’t terribly interested if they’re not in heat, which happens once a year. So that there are new young born year round, the females are segregated into three groups so their cycles synch. One group is in heat every four months. Hunters time their hunts around the females’ heat cycles, being sure to come home with the trophies they use to secure mating rights right before a heat cycle starts. It’s rare for a female not to be pregnant at the end of her heat cycle unless she’s someone in a highly skilled field where bearing and raising children is counterproductive.

Rah’chond is one such female. She will go into heat soon, but uses birth control to prevent offspring. She has offered to take care of Chak’tou for me while I heal up. In their culture, this is actually a generous offer, because it will prevent him from siring another child so that his attention stays focused on me and our son. Although I accepted her offer, it’s hard for me not to feel jealous. I think of Chak’tou as mine in a way that makes no sense to Yautja. Rah’chond claims I’ll be too exhausted to care who he fucks.

“What are you naming him?” Rah’chond asks me.

“I get to name him?” One thing I really like about the Yautja is the respect and deference accorded to their females.

“Yes,” Chak’tou agrees with no hesitation.

I look down at the child at my breast and stroke his cheek. He sucks harder, his purring intensifying. “Is there a name in your language that means ‘unexpected surprise’?”

Both Yautja laugh at me hard enough to make the baby forsake my nipple, his big yellow eyes round with alarm. “Nhaw’che. It means Lucky One,” Rah’chond offers.

“Nhaw’che,” I repeat to the child, who coos at me and snatches my nipple back into his hungry mouth.

******

Over the next several weeks, I decide I would take Rah’chond gambling with me if we were ever on Earth together. She can even predict my reactions correctly. When she goes into heat, Chak’tou fucks her all over his house. While I’m sometimes conscious enough to hear it, I’m too tired to care. My life has become one long round of eating, sleeping and feeding insatiable Nhaw’che.

At first, breastfeeding him just makes me sore, but then it becomes an agony. His hungry cries make me burst into tears of dread. Finally, my nipples toughen up to the point where they’re numb. Now all I feel is the pressure of his suction and relief at the emptying of my full breasts, which isn’t half bad. I hold Nhaw’che and sing to him while he eats. Sometimes, Chak’tou holds both of us while I feed the baby and sing.

My milk must be rich, because Nhaw’che grows fast. Like a human baby, he doubles his weight in the first few months, but unlike any human baby, that makes him heavier than a lot of human two-year-olds. Considering what I have to eat every day to keep up with him, it can’t help but be rich. I didn’t think it was possible for me to eat in such quantities, but I’m ravenous. I even wake up in the middle of night to eat. At first, I can’t keep enough water in my body, no matter how much I drink, so Rah’chond gives me an IV.

Although I feel one step from death much of the time, I’m gradually getting stronger. The IV comes out. I stop needing help getting to the bathroom. When I dare to look at my stomach, expecting to see a jagged, angry-looking gash where they practically had to cut me in half to get the baby out, I see a scar only about four inches long that appears to be fading fast. Shortly after that, I realize I can lift quite hefty Nhaw’che without feeling any pain in my middle. He’s also surprisingly easy for me to lift, despite his bulk. Something is happening to my bones and muscles; I wonder how much Chak’tou’s blood is going to change me before it’s finished.

When Nhaw’che is about three months old, I start thinking about Chak’tou as something other than his father or a person who fetches things for me. As soon as she sees me next, Rah’chond looks at me strangely and insists on giving me a thorough medical exam.

“It’s no wonder the Elders and the Clan Mothers don’t want you here,” she says, in sudden understanding.

“What?” I ask, completely lost.

“You smell like you’re in heat, but at a lower level than Yautja females. You’re not mindless with it, like we get. And, right now, you’re the only female in miles who is remotely in heat. That’ll make any males near here easily irritated and overly aggressive.”

“Well, you’re direct,” I stammer, blushing. “Tell me I can have Chak’tou again and I’ll try to fix the problem.”

Rah’chond misunderstands me, responding as a female instead of as my doctor. “Have Chak’tou again? He was never mine, Kat. I went into heat and he fucked me. I thought you understood this.”

Now it’s about to be her turn to be embarrassed. “No, I meant for you to tell me it’s medically okay for me to fuck Chak’tou again.”

As I predicted, her mandibles flutter. “I guess that makes us even. There is no medical reason why not. You barely have a scar and all your female organs have recovered from the pregnancy. I don’t need to tell you you’ll want to be careful with your breasts.”

I hate to ask, but I have to. “I won’t get pregnant again, will I?”

“Very unlikely. Even Yautja females who dally between heats seldom get pregnant if they’re suckling young. As you well know, babies take an enormous amount of energy to feed.”

I nod, lost in thought.

“Do you want me to send Chak’tou to you?” she prompts.

I peek over at the slumbering baby and agree it’s an excellent idea.

******

The moment he enters the room, Chak’tou’s demeanor changes. “You smell so good,” he groans.

“Didn’t Rah’chond to tell you why I needed you?”

He full out smiles, an expression I seldom see. “No, she didn’t, but I think I know now. She told you it’s okay?”

I smile back at him, feeling a delicious heat well up between my legs. “She gave me a full exam and says I’m fine. Just watch out for my nipples.”

“There are other areas we can focus on.” He trills for emphasis, making my heat turn moist.

I slide out of the simple robe I’m wearing, the only piece of clothing that has made any sense since Nhaw’che was born. His eyes rake over my bare skin as he pulls off his own clothing. Rah’chond or no, I can tell he’s missed me. Me. Kat.

A moment later, he’s in bed with me, his head between my legs, savoring my arousal. “Mine,” he says, nipping the inside of my thigh.

“Yours,” I agree, spreading myself open wide for him, not caring where he might bite me next.

Chak’tou does grab bits of my tender flesh with his teeth, but he doesn’t break the skin, only pulls on it and twists it in ways that make it swell further. He makes me wait for a long time before letting me feel his tongue. I’m so ready he doesn’t waste much time, purring as he slides it up into me to feed on my juice. I’m so wound I come on it as if it was a penis, squeezing it hard. I can feel my nipples leaking.

“I’ve missed your taste,” he breathes as he withdraws from me.

I let him roll me onto my side, knowing what he’ll do next. Sex while spooning became a great favorite for us as my belly and breasts grew uncomfortable in later pregnancy. Chak’tou is long enough that we can have a very satisfying fuck in that position. I tilt my hips back but let him do the work of arranging me so that his cock can reach me. He’s eager to comply.

It feels so good when he enters me we both moan. “I’ve missed this, too,” he confesses. “There’s no one else like you, Kat.”

On his world, that’s probably true, I realize, but I refuse to consider that his affection for me could be more about me being a human female with a tight pussy than about me being Kat.

I take it as a compliment instead and push back again him, sliding him in deeper. The stretch of him inside me is intense, almost painful. I can tell my swollen flesh has tightened up from nonuse. Now that there isn’t a baby in the way, I press my hand against my lower belly. His cock is big enough I can just feel its hardness through my flesh.

“You feel so good,” I whimper and absolutely mean it.

He can’t resist moving in me after that, but his rhythm is smooth and gentle, because he knows my body isn’t as used to him as it was. I lay there and drift on a sea of exquisite sensation while he thrusts in and out of me. Despite having had Rah’chond—and who knew who else—while I was incapacitated, I can tell he’s too excited to last very long. He wraps an arm around me, careful to avoid my breasts, and anchors himself so he get as deeply into me as he can. I’m so full that I can’t help but orgasm, forcing Chak’tou to follow suit.

As I’m coming this time, I actually squirt milk. He must smell it, because he reaches forward and catches some of it. I can hear him lick it off his hand behind me. “Maybe he is the lucky one,” Chak’tou quips.

Almost as if his father had called him, I hear Nhaw’che start to snuffle in his bed. He’ll be up and crying to be fed shortly. The thought of Chak’tou having to withdraw from me so soon saddens me. It must sadden him, too.

“I can go get him and we can pick up where we left off,” he suggests.

The idea of having a baby at my nipple while there is a cock in my pussy just scandalizes me and I’m far from prudish. “We can’t do that!”

“Why not?” he challenges me. “The baby won’t know or care.”

Chak’tou is right about that. Our son will be in his own Nirvana while eating. At that moment, Nhaw’che makes part of the decision for us, a throaty baby growl rising from the cradle where he lays. His father rises to retrieve him and gives him to me. While I’m situating him on my breast, his father starts situating himself at my other end.

“Chak’tou!” I hiss, but I really can’t move without upsetting our now vigorously sucking child.

I also can’t deny how good the reinsertion of his cock feels. “See, now everybody’s happy,” he tells me with obscene glee.

******

All good things must come to an end. Growing Yautja babies require so much sustenance that even Yautja mothers can seldom support them on milk alone for more than a year. By the time Nhaw’che reaches half that age, I’ve reached my limit on the milk diet. We have to start feeding him ground up meat, too, so he doesn’t cry constantly from hunger. We keep it secret as long as we can, but the Clan Mothers somehow find out about it. I am dragged before them forthwith.

Let me tell you, they are one scary group of bitches. I’m not sure exactly how it works, but it seems that old Yautja females are the biggest of all, bigger than younger females, bigger than the Hunters and even the Elders.

“What did you hope to gain by hiding the child’s need for solid food?” the largest one, who I guess is their leader, wants to know.

I stand my ground, despite feeling like a naughty child because of the size difference. “I don’t want to be separated from my son. Nhaw’che is my baby.”

To my surprise, their attitude thaws a little at that. “This is understandable, but you cannot stay here and you cannot take the child.”

“I understand why he needs to be raised among you, but why do I have to leave?” I demand.

A smaller, older-looking female shakes her head tolerantly. “You have no idea of your effect on our males, do you?”

“Rah’chond and Chak’tou say I’m always in heat,” I explain.

“Do you think you can raise your child locked up in Chak’tou’s house forever? How do you plan to function here, where every male who scents you will want to mate with you?”

“I can just tell them no,” I insist, but my words sound lame even to me.

“Could you tell Chak’tou no?” presses the leader.

I sigh. “He took me anyway.”

“As would some others here. They would fight over who takes you. Vital males would die needlessly over a non-breeding female. This is a situation the clan cannot abide.”

“Non-breeding female?!” I explode. “What the hell do you call Nhaw’che?”

“Your child is exceptionally rare,” a third Clan Mother chimes in. “The likelihood you will produce another is slim. A Yautja female will become pregnant every time she is in heat. It is a waste for our males to fight over such as you.”

A Clan Mother farther back in the room, one who seemed smaller and perhaps younger, pipes up. “Human females live in other clans … “

“One human female in one other clan!” the leader corrects her, peeved. “She is an experienced hunter allied with a powerful warrior. She hasn’t borne a child here and is treated more like a male than a female.” Her eyes bore into mine. “You would want to be considered a female since you wish to stay on planet to raise your son.

There’s no denying that, I agree to myself, but I can’t keep my misery from my face.

“I know you think us heartless, but it isn’t true. Would it help Nhaw’che if we let you stay long enough for him to remember you?”

I sidestep that issue. “I have no place in my own world anymore either. They know what Chak’tou did to me. I had been taken prisoner when he offered me the chance to leave Earth with him. If I go back, I’ll have to live in hiding.”

My argument sounds compelling to me, but the Clan Mother leader is unmoved. “Perhaps you need to go talk to the Elders, so you have a better understanding of what will happen if you stay here.”

******

Sending me to meet with the Elders gets the Clan Mothers’ point across more eloquently than any discussion could have. As soon as I’m left me in the room with the Elders, several of them are up and walking around me. I realize what they are doing immediately; they are enjoying my scent, as Chak’tou often does. All the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

“You wish to stay here,” the Clan Leader says to me, leaning his scarred face down onto my hair.

Uh oh.

“I wish to continue to raise my son,” I stammer, horrified that his gesture is making me feel heat where I don’t want to.

I feel one behind me run a sensual hand down my back and trill. “I have no objection.”

Other hands reach out and touch me all over. No one seems to have any objections and they’re all smiling and purring as they circle me.

“Please,” I manage, as the Clan Leader starts to undress me. “I’m not here for this.”

“Your scent says otherwise,” he replies. “Did you think you could walk in here smelling like this and not get this response?”

“We know Chak’tou fucks you regularly. Does it hurt?” asks another.

I can’t make myself lie and say it does.

“You know we won’t hurt you,” offers another, correctly interpreting my lack of response.

The Clan Leader has finished undressing me. In spite of myself, I can feel that I’m wet. Even with his white hair and obvious age, he is an impressive fellow beneath his loincloth. I find it impossible to do anything other than comply when he lays me down on the council table and enters me.

Immediately, he trills. “I had forgotten how tight humans are.”

God help me, he feels as good inside me as Chak’tou. As he enjoys me, I start to understand the Clan Mothers’ objection to me staying on this planet. The Elders are patient, content to wait their turn to have me. Young hunters wouldn’t want to wait. When he finishes, I find I have three on me at once.

Two of them are sniffing me, licking me, teasing me, while a third one enters my now fully receptive body. A fourth one approaches me, and it’s clear he’s got designs on my mouth. Obviously, he’s been around the block a time or two with human females. He groans as my lips encompass him. That grateful sound sends me over the edge and I come, much to the delight of the one inside me.

I lose count of how many of the Elders take me in one end or the other. And I really wish I could call it rape, but considering how many orgasms I have, I just can’t. Being in a state of semi-heat seems to mean it’s impossible for me to resist male advances. I understand now why monogamy can’t exist among the Yautja. I also understand now why the concept of rape makes little sense to them. Females in heat are willing, period. Even an aroused human woman who hasn’t gotten the shot I did can pass for being in heat to them. The first time Chak’tou fucked me was no rape to him, because my scent told him I wanted it. The Elders all know I want it, too. And, God help me, they’re right.

Two days later, Chak’tou and I are sequestered in a room on a ship bound for Earth. It still hurts for me to walk. The Elders weren’t brutal with me, lacking the forcefulness of youth, but they also took longer to reach orgasm and there were a lot of them. I also miss Nhaw’che terribly, my full breasts aching for his mouth and my heart breaking because I can’t hold him against it anymore. I cry a lot, which Chak’tou endures with good grace. Thankfully, he understands why I don’t want to have sex with him. Once I’m finally receptive again, he has more than earned the right to enjoy me. I expect him to be brutal with pent up need, but he’s surprisingly tender with me. As much as I don’t want to, I know I’ll miss him, too.

All too soon, we’re in orbit around Earth. Despite the circumstances under which I’m returning, I’m pathetically glad to see my blue planet. It takes some doing, but Chak’tou convinces the hunt leader to leave me in the United States. Still, the location where he agrees to leave me is a thousand miles from home. I have no human clothes and no money. Chak’tou prevails upon him again and, to my amazement, he produces not only a passable set of clothes but a few thousand dollars in cash, non-grisly souvenirs liberated from some of his kills here.

We land in a wheat field in Nebraska, just as the sun is setting. I don’t know what to say to Chak’tou; he seems equally at a loss. I finally just hug him, a behavior he has always found odd when it happens outside of sex. He knows I like it, though.

“Kat,” he says at last, and there is a wistfulness to the word.

Probably as close as he’ll get to saying, ‘I’ll miss you.’ Considering I’m close to tears, I take a page from his book.

“Chak’tou,” I say, bravely trying to smile.

Then he is gone. Standing on my own planet among the familiar sounds and smells of a summer evening, it’s as if the last year and a half has never happened. As I start walking towards the nearest glow of light in the sky, I wonder what I’m going to say to my mother. I’m sure she was told I’m dead. I don’t dare call her, in case they’re monitoring her phone on the off chance I return. I hope my appearance on her doorstep doesn’t kill her off, but I want to get to her before military intelligence can disappear me again.

I’m almost to the nearest town when I throw up.