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Message-ID: <34081asstr$1008479405@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Mother Kali <kali_mother@yahoo.com>
MIME-Version: 1.0
Subject: {ASSM} ST: The Surrogate Species, 2/3 (sci fi, M/M, NC, tg, med, body mod, castration, male preg)
Date: Sun, 16 Dec 2001 00:10:05 -0500
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

Standard disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. It is
for entertainment purposes only and intended
exclusively for adults. If you are not legally of age
according to the laws of your land, please go away.

Special disclaimer: Some people may find this story--
well, kind of yucky. Please beware that it contains
extreme body modification, acts of non-consensual sex
between men, and male pregnancy, all set in a galaxy
far, far away. If this is not your cup of tea, go back
now. You've been warned!

Warnings: sci fi, M/M, NC, tg, medical, extreme body
modification, castration, male pregnancy

***

The Surrogate Species
by Mother Kali

(Part 2/3) 

Garon had not touched a woman since that last time
with Jaina. With no hope of offspring, it would just
be sex, and he would not demean his wife's suffering
for the trifle of physical pleasure. 

He had not even felt the stirring of desire for as
long as he could remember. But now, just remembering
the golden-haired man's pale softness, his
mountain-colored eyes, his warm, musky scent made
Garon's penis stand erect and fully aroused. He ran a
finger along the length of it and shuddered. It had
been so long 

He began to stroke himself, even though he practically
never indulged this way. It had been drilled into his
head since he was a child that his seed was precious.
Each microspawn he wasted masturbating or having
frivolous sex with an incompatible alien was a future
Kael that died before it had a chance to live. A
thought that morbid tended to put a damper on a man's
libido. Garon was impeccably disciplined when it came
to his wants. There had been perhaps three or four
times in his life when he'd brought himself to orgasm,
and each time he'd felt the most intense guilt
afterwards as he cleaned the wasted seed from his
belly, knowing it was a child that would never be
born. 

For similar reasons, he had never dabbled in sex with
other men. It was not taboo in his culture, as it was
in many others, for members of the warrior cast to
take their pleasure with submissive males. Even a Kael
could indulge such tastes, as long as he fulfilled his
manly obligations by marrying and creating offspring.
But Garon had never understood the allure of man-love.
He preferred the soft, pliant nature of females, their
delicacy, their mysteriousness.

But the golden-haired man-- well, there was a softness
to his species that touched on all Garon's erotic hot
spots. He imagined having the beautiful surrogate
beneath him, naked and fertile, legs wide flung, eager
to take Garon's cock, the pale, receptive body ready
to accept his seed and shelter it while it grew into a
precious child.

It was the thought of impregnating the golden-haired
surrogate that finally sent Garon over the edge. He
gripped his cock, closed his eyes tightly shut and
came in shuddering waves. As his orgasm subsided, he
flopped back down on the bed and rested while his
breathing slowly returned to normal. He felt his penis
soften and retract. His belly was sticky with semen.
He sighed and used a corner of the bedclothes to clean
himself. 

He commanded the computer to shut off the lights, and
he turned onto his side. He had been sleeping by
himself so long that even a night spent on the Marak
space station could not make him feel more desolate
than usual.

***
 
Early the next morning, the Marak came to his
quarters, so they could continue the tour. Garon had
already dined on what passed for breakfast, and he was
eager to finish the inspection and be on his way.
 

"We will begin with the breeding suite," the Marak
informed him and turned to lead the way.

The Marak showed him into a small control center. It
pushed a button, and the visor on the observation
window retracted. Garon could see into the large room.
There were rows and rows of surrogates in the process
of being bred by Krill warriors. The surrogates were
bent over padded benches, legs spread, their wrists
and ankles cuffed to the supports of the bench, their
posteriors high in the air for easy entry. The men
flailed futilely at their bonds. They screamed and
begged to be set free, their faces bright red with
strain.

Garon watched his warriors in various stages of
coitus. Some were just getting hard, their phalluses
unfurling from their protective carapaces, glistening
with natural lubrication. Others were holding their
surrogate's cheeks apart, positioning their cocks for
entry. Some were riding hard, holding their
surrogate's hips as they pistoned in and out of them.
Others were yelling out, their faces distorted by
pleasure, as they climaxed and filled their surrogates
with their seed. 

This was the ultimate reward for courage in battle--to
be sent here, to have the chance to replicate one's
genes. However, the warriors would have no legal claim
to the resulting offspring. The children would be
placed with the oldest and most respected Krill
families, with all due consideration given to those
who had been politically useful in the past. Such was
the reality of governing so large an empire. The
downside to this arrangement was that the warriors
felt none of the usual attachment a Krill male felt
for his mate. There was no room for tenderness con in
this Marak assembly line. So the warriors went about
breeding the surrogates as if it were a visit to a
bawdy whorehouse. 

And the surrogates all screamed in terror.

The Marak seemed to sense Garon's unease. "They are
not being physically harmed," it said. "Perhaps there
is a little discomfort, but no pain. From what we've
gleaned, it is taboo in their culture for a male to be
sexually penetrated. That is why they scream."

Its voice was flat, emotionless. It saw nothing wrong
with a mass rape, as long as its objectives were
served. How could a creature like this possibly
understand what sex was supposed to be? What the act
of procreation meant to Garon's people? The Marak had
its job to do. That was all it understood, all it
cared about. 

But Garon could not pretend he did not know how very
wrong this was, how completely un-Krill-like. A Krill
man did not treat the mother of his child like a cheap
prostitute. The connection between a man and his mate
was tender, respectful, a life-long bond that was
mutual and loving. New life should not come from an
act of degradation. The future should not be created
by force.

"These circumstances don't help matters," Garon said.

"What do you mean?" the Marak asked.

"Why do they have to be chained like that? Why do they
have to be positioned in such a humiliating and
uncomfortable way?"

"The surrogates refuse to cooperate, so the restraints
are necessary. This position is the most efficient for
guaranteeing pregnancy."
 

"Couldn't there at least be some privacy?"

"That condition is not necessary for successful
procreation."

"But it *is* necessary to keep this from being a
traumatic experience for the surrogate."

"That is not our objective," the Marak said. "The
emotional state of the surrogate is of no interest to
us. We only care that they produce healthy offspring."

Garon sighed. He had known that the Marak would say
just this, but it was still frustrating. Sometimes,
talking to Toorah was like talking back to the
computer console, a totally fruitless waste of time.

At the bench nearest the observation window, the Krill
warrior roared as he came inside his surrogate, a
dark-haired man. He pulled out and stumbled back a
step. A Marak security officer led him away. A Marak
technician hurried over to the surrogate and pulled
his cheeks wide apart to examine him.

"When they become pregnant," the Marak explained. "The
anal ring turns bright red."

"Stop it!" the surrogate screamed. "Get your fucking
hands off me." He thrashed helplessly.

The Marak removed its hands. Apparently, the surrogate
had not been successfully inseminated. The technician
signaled the Marak security officer at the door.
Another solider was shown in, his thick cock already
unfurled, bobbing lustfully in front of him.  The
security officer pointed out where he was to go. The
soldier strode eagerly over to the surrogate and
mounted him without ceremony. The dark-haired man
sobbed pitifully as he was once again ridden hard.

Two rows away, another technician unbuckled a
surrogate who apparently had been made pregnant and
led him away. Tears trickled down the surrogate's
face. Seminal fluid ran down his legs. He walked
gingerly and held a hand to his butt as if he were in
pain.

"You said they could accommodate a Krill phallus,"
Garon said, accusingly.

"They can," the Marak answered. "That one is simply
sore, not injured. Not every surrogate is compatible
with every Krill male. We went through six of your
warriors before we found one who could impregnate this
particular surrogate."

"You made him have intercourse with six men, one right
after another?"

"Yes."

"That's barbaric."

 
The Marak looked annoyed, if that was possible. "Kael,
I assure you that if we could perform some diagnostic
test to predict which Krill would be compatible with
which surrogate we would do that. As you know, we
prize efficiency. But we have not been able to
identify the factors that determine compatibility.
Until we do, our only recourse is trial and error."

The door opened, and security officers dragged in the
next surrogate to take the place of the one who had
just been escorted out. It was the golden-haired man
Garon had fantasized about the night before. Two
security officers held him tightly by the arms, but he
still fought, cursing and spitting at his Marak
captors. One of the security officers held a lightning
rifle against his neck and sent a jolt of white-hot
pain through his body. The golden-haired man screeched
loudly and sagged in their arms. Garon admired the
man's courage for fighting back, but it was pointless
to try to resist the lightning rifle. It used your own
pain receptacles against you, spreading the worst
agony imaginable throughout your entire body.

The security officers dumped him onto the bench and
began securing the restraints. Somehow, the
golden-haired man found the strength to try to kick
them away.

"He has spirit," Garon remarked.

"From their ship's records, it appears that his
function was to help defend the people onboard."

"So he is a warrior."

"He was. Now, he is simply a surrogate, like all the
rest."

The security officers finished securing the
golden-haired man. On both sides of him, there were
others of his kind, perhaps men he had known, perhaps
even friends, screaming as they were taken against
their wills. The golden-haired man shouted insults and
fought futilely against his bonds. He watched over his
shoulder as another Krill warrior was admitted into
the room and pointed in his direction.

"Fuckers! You stay the hell away from me," the
golden-haired man screamed.

Garon found himself tensing as the warrior strode over
to the surrogate. The Krill warrior began to fondle
the man's ass to arouse himself, so his penis would
emerge and harden.

The Marak noticed his reaction. "You have some
interest in #04631?" it asked.

"I-- Well--"

Garon could not frame the words. He did not enjoy
talking business with this creature. He certainly
wasn't about to admit his most intimate sexual
feelings.

"We could make this surrogate available to you if you
wish," the Marak said.

"What will it cost me?" Garon asked, sarcastically.
 

"Nothing, Kael. Consider it a gesture of good will
between our people."

The Marak spoke into its communication device. A
technician hurried over to the golden-haired man and
directed the warrior about to penetrate him to another
surrogate. Security officers unbound the golden-haired
man and dragged him from the room.

"He will be kept in the holding area until you have
returned from the tour. As I mentioned, not all
surrogates are compatible with all Krill males. If you
wish to stay another night, we could bring him to your
quarters this evening, and if he proves suitable, we
will prepare him to depart with you tomorrow."

"And that's it?" Garon regarded the Marak with
suspicion. "You won't want anything in return for
this-- goodwill gesture?"

"Only that you remember the source of your good
fortune when this surrogate provides you with many
offspring."

"What would your terms be to release all the
surrogates to me?" Garon asked.

The resources of his people were already strained, but
he could not bear the idea of leaving the mothers of
their children here in this baby-making factory, the
slaves of these cold-hearted *things*.

"That is not open for negotiation," the Marak told
him.

"I would be willing to make a generous offer. Surely,
there are other assets of the Krill Empre that you've
admired?"

The Marak shook its head. "This species has proven
itself very versatile. We are investigating future
uses for them. We project they will have produced
enough offspring to rebuild your planet's population
in ten years, and that will fulfill the final terms of
our agreement. This species' longevity is much longer
than that. We believe there will be many other
opportunities to generate profit from them."

The Marak's bland, matter-of-fact voice as it
discussed the future exploitation of this species made
Garon ill. But there was little he could do. He needed
the Marak to restore his people's future. He would
have to make his peace with the fact that the mothers
of that future would never be an honored part of Krill
society, would not enjoy loving and respectful
relationships with the fathers of their children.

"But the golden-haired one is mine, right?" Garon
said.

The Marak nodded. "Yes. We will make this one
surrogate a gift to your people, but it will be the
only one."

Garon sighed. "Fine," he said. "Now, can we move on?
I've seen enough here."

 
"As you wish, Kael," the Marak said. 

It closed the iris on the view screen and led Garon
out of the control room and down the hall.

"The next step in the process, of course, is
gestation," the Marak said. "The surrogates are housed
in communal dormitories. We find it efficient to group
together first-time mothers with those who have
already been through a pregnancy. They are able to
educate one another and help with the adjustment
process."

The Marak punched in an access code, and the door to
yet another control room opened. Garon followed the
researcher inside. The Marak spoke to the technician
seated at the console. It hit a button, and a display
screen flickered on. It showed a large room with rows
of cots. There was a common food dispenser and eating
area, as well as a place to exercise and bathing and
toilet facilities. Everything was in plain view of the
Marak monitors. There was no such thing as privacy for
these surrogates.

"We have ten dormitories, each one with its own
observation center. From here, we can monitor the
daily activities of the surrogates. They follow a
carefully designed regimen of exercise, rest and
nutrition, to ensure the health of the offspring.
Gestation takes six standard interstellar months. It
encompasses three distinct phases which we call
bimesters..."

The Marak continued to talk, but Garon was not paying
attention. He could not take his eyes off the screen.

In every art museum on Krill, the walls were filled
with representations of fertility, images of nude
figures, their bellies beautifully swollen with
approaching motherhood. The focal point of every Krill
house was the family altar, on which proudly stood as
statuette of the Goddess, in all her bounty, her
figure lush and ripe, powerful with life-giving
energy. There was nothing more sacred to the Krill
people than the ability to bear new life. 

During the past twenty years, these icons had seemed
to mock his people. Garon himself had stopped
meditating in front of his own household altar. It
made him too bitter, given everything he had been
through with Jaina. But now, the Krill were fruitful
once more. Garon had never seen anything more
beautiful than these mothers. It didn't matter that
they were not of his own kind. Their round bellies
filled him with the most intense joy. If it had not
been for the Marak, he would have let his tears flow
freely.

The surrogates were all at different stages of
gestation. Some were hardly showing; others were
clearly approaching term. They all seemed much less
afraid than the new arrivals Garon had seen the day
before. They chatted companionably amongst themselves
as they went about small housekeeping chores. Those
most pregnant rested on their cots. They possessed
that serene glow that Garon had always associated with
pregnancy, something he had not seen for many years.
It moved him deeply.

"The surrogate you witnessed being successfully bred
will join this community. You will be able to observe
how the surrogates assist one another in adjusting to
their new station in life. This species is highly
social. We have found studying their interactions most
fascinating."

Garon frowned as he noticed an extremely young looking
surrogate rush to the toilet area, bend over the bowl,
and begin to retch. 

"Is he all right?" Garon asked with concern.

"Yes. His health is perfectly satisfactory. Nausea is
a symptom during the first bimester of pregnancy. The
surrogates may also experience fatigue,
light-headedness, back aches. These symptoms are
normal and temporary."

An older man knelt beside the young surrogate and
rubbed his back in comforting circles. He murmured to
him in a low, soothing voice. This tenderness amazed
Garon. There was a saying among his own people: "No
room is large enough for two pregnant Krill females."
It seemed the surrogates had no such trouble getting
along with one another. 

Another group clustered around a surrogate who was
feeling his baby kick for the first time.

The surrogate's face was bright with wonder. "Oh, my
God!" He pressed a hand to his belly. "Feel! It's
moving!"

The other surrogates each took a turn feeling the baby
move and offering the mother congratulations. 

"They seem--" Garon shook his head in disbelief.
"Happy."

"There appears to be a chemical process that takes
place sometime during the second bimester, a hormonal
reaction of some sort, but we haven't been able to
isolate it. This creates an emotional bond between the
surrogate and offspring."

Garon watched the surrogate tenderly stroking his
pregnant belly, enjoying the feeling of the child
moving inside him. 

"They love their children," he said, his throat
constricting with raw emotion.

"Whether they love their children or not is of no
concern to us," the Marak said, dismissively. "The
emotional bond is simply a convenient side-effect, one
we had not foreseen, but are happy to exploit for our
purposes. It motivates the surrogates to be scrupulous
in following their prenatal program. And that enables
us to provide you with healthy offspring on schedule."

Garon did not look at the Marak. It was the only way
he could keep from strangling it. Instead, he watched
the mothers. They *did* love their children. That was
clear to him. And Garon was abandoning them here to
live under the tyranny of these *things* who honestly
believed that a mother's love was irrelevant. 

Garon forced himself to push away the thought and
focus on the surrogates, on the wonder of pregnancy. 

"What is that swelling in the chest area?" he asked.

"It's another side-effect of pregnancy," the Marak
said. "In the females of their species, this is where
the glands are located that produce nourishment for
their offspring. When they are pregnant, the glands
swell. Their infants feed from those darker structures
on the chest, called nipples. For some reason, this
swelling also occurs in the males, although they lack
the glands the females possess."

Garon frowned. "Is this where our offspring are
supposed to feed?"

"We considered that option," the Marak said. "But it
was too difficult to adapt those structures to the
needs of your offspring. The nipples are too small and
the wrong shape to suckle a Krill infant. As you
remember, we implanted a gland in the surrogate's
bladder to convert its liquid waste into nourishment
suitable for Krill offspring. After the gonads are
removed, the surrogate's phallus shrinks. By the time
the surrogate delivers, it is the perfect size for the
offspring to suckle. You'll notice that the phallus is
swollen and appears erect the surrogates who are
approaching term. They start to produce nourishment in
the third bimester."

"It's just amazing," Garon said. "It looks almost
exactly like a Krill female's nursing organ."

"Yes, the similarity is quite remarkable," the Marak
said. "It's the correct size and shape, and even in
roughly the same area of the body. This is yet another
reason the members of this species make such effective
surrogates." 

The Marak's comm device buzzed, and it spoke into it.

"The new surrogate is ready to be introduced into the
community," the Marak informed him.

Inside the dormitory area, a bell sounded. The
surrogates all jumped to their feet and hurried to
form a line. 

"They train well, all things considered," the Marak
noted. "Once they've been impregnated, they become
particularly docile. Their emotional bond with the
offspring aids us in keeping order. They know a blast
from a lightning rifle could harm their child, and so
they are careful to behave and avoid such
repercussions."

Garon stared at the Marak in horror. "You would kill
one of my offspring?"

The Marak returned his gaze coolly. "No, of course
not, Kael. But the surrogates do not know that, and so
the threat is quite effective."

The door opened. A Marak guard escorted the newly
impregnated surrogate inside. The man was crying, and
he still looked as if he was in pain.

"Get in line," the guard instructed him.

The man appeared to be in a mild state of shock and
stood frozen. When he did not immediately obey, the
Marak guard pushed him roughly forward. The man
stumbled, and another surrogate quickly reached out to
steady him and help him get into line.

"#39681 is assigned to this dormitory. You will
explain the rules to him and see that he obeys."

The Marak left, and the door closed behind it.

"Come lie down," a tall, hugely pregnant surrogate
said the newcomer. "We'll get you cleaned up, and then
you can rest."

The surrogate helped the man over to a cot.

"They-- Oh, god. They--" The man cried harder. "They
raped me."

"It's okay," the other surrogate soothed him. "Just
lie down." He helped him onto the cot. "There you go."

The dark-haired man curled into a ball on the bed. The
other surrogate ran some water in a basin, found a
washcloth and brought it over to him. The surrogate
sat down on the cot beside the weeping man and gently
wiped away the seminal fluid from between his legs and
cheeks. The dark-haired man flinched, but he didn't
resist.

"That's better." The motherly surrogate tenderly
stroked the man's hair.

"Did they do it to you, too?" the dark-haired man
asked, his mouth trembling.

"Ssssh," the surrogate said. "It's over now. Try not
to think about it."

But the dark-haired man only grew more upset. "Did
they do *that* to you?" He pointed to the other
surrogate's enormous belly.

"It's not the way you think. Everything's going to be
just fine. You'll see."

The dark-haired man froze for a moment, and then his
eyes went wide. "Oh, god. Oh, my god. Did they do that
to *me*, too?" He shook his head desperately. "No. No!
Not *that*."

"It's going to be okay," the other surrogate assured
him. "Try not to get so upset. You *are* pregnant, but
it's going to be wonderful. I promise."

The man stared at him in disbelief. "*Wonderful*? Do
you even know what you're saying? Or have they totally
brainwashed you? We're *men*, for god's sake. It is
*not* wonderful. Those disgusting *things* fucked me
in the ass against my will, and now-- Now, I'm-- " His
whole body shook as he cried.

"This is my third baby," the surrogate told him. "I
was upset at first, too. I thought it was unnatural,
disgusting, everything you're thinking right now. I
hated them for what they'd done to me. All of it. The
sex. And the pregnancy. But once you give birth--
Well, it's the most indescribably joyous thing you can
ever imagine. It changes how you see things. And it
has nothing to do with brainwashing. I swear."

The dark-haired man wouldn't look at him. "I don't
know what's wrong with you, what they've done to your
mind. But I still remember what it means to be a man,
what it means to be *human*. And I don't want this
*thing* growing inside me." Tears streaked his face.
"I don't care what you say. I'm not like you. I'm
*never* going to accept this."

"Maybe you can learn to think of it as an opportunity
instead of an outrage. A chance to experience
something you never could have experienced in your old
life. Because the fact is that you *are* pregnant. You
*will* give birth when the time comes. And when this
baby is weaned, you will do it all over again. That's
just the way things are now. You're going to have to
make your peace with it. Or they will hurt you. And
your baby."

The dark-haired man sobbed into his pillow. 

"Okay," the other surrogate said. "We'll leave you to
yourself for a little while, give you a chance to calm
down and think about what I've just said. We can go
over the rules when you're feeling better." He got up
and rejoined the other surrogates who were gathered a
few feet away. The dark-haired man went on crying.

"He'll be okay in a few days," the motherly surrogate
assured the others. "You all remember how it was in
the beginning."

The other mothers nodded.

"We'll let him sleep for a while, and then make sure
he eats something."

Garon frowned as he watched. "This one does not seem
particularly pleased to be pregnant."

"It's part of the normal adjustment process," the
Marak said. "New surrogates are resistant at first,
but they quickly accept their altered reality. The
other surrogates help facilitate the transition, as
you can see."

The Marak's comm device buzzed again.

"There's a mother ready to deliver in the birthing
suite," it said. "If we go now, we can witness it."

Garon nodded eagerly. "Yes. Let's go."

It was only a short distance to the birthing suite.
The Marak hurried into the control room, and Garon
followed closely on its heels. Inside, there were a
number of technicians. Each one sat in front of a
console and monitored several birthing chambers.

"No one attends a surrogate while he is in labor?"
Garon asked.

On Krill, birth was a celebration. A pregnant woman's
family rushed to her home when they learned she had
gone into labor. They waited in the great hall and
entertained friends who wanted to be on hand for the
happy event. It was considered a great honor to assist
the bringing of new life, and only a woman's closest
kin, usually her husband, mother and sisters, attended
her in the delivery room. They helped divert the
woman's attention from the pain, eased her burden, and
physically supported her while she delivered the baby.


"Labor can last many hours, Kael. It would be an
inefficient use of resources to assign a technician to
each surrogate for that length of time, and besides,
their attention is only necessary during the critical
end stage of labor. We monitor the surrogates very
carefully from here and give them instructions as
needed. If there is an emergency, a response team is
quickly deployed. But most deliveries transpire
without incident."

"I rather doubt the mothers see it that way. You don't
think they're frightened? That it would make them feel
safer to have someone with them?"

"First-time mothers do tend to exhibit signs of
nervousness, but they still manage to successfully
birth healthy offspring. That is all that is relevant
to the achievement of our objectives. But perhaps you
will be reassured to know that experience does assuage
their fears. Once they have been through the process
the first time, they are much calmer during subsequent
births."

The Marak led him from console to console, so he could
watch the surrogates preparing to give birth. In one
room, a short, red-haired surrogate walked around the
perimeter of the small birthing chamber. He was
apparently between contractions and moving around to
stretch his legs. His belly hung low, and he held his
back to help support the weight. He was singing softly
to the baby, something low and melodic. Garon guessed
it was lullaby.

"This is his third child," the Marak said. "He's only
at the beginning stage of labor. His contractions are
still ten minutes apart. I'm afraid we won't have time
to see him deliver."

In another room, a surrogate squatted, practicing
breathing exercises as he rode out a series of
contractions.

"This is a second-time mother. His labor is well
underway and should be very easy. We may be able to
come back and see this birth after we witness the one
that's about to occur now. If you'll follow me to the
last console."

Garon followed it to the end of the row and took a
place behind the Marak technician at the console. The
surrogate was a mature male with dark eyes and light
hair. He appeared to be rather panic-stricken.

"Do not be alarmed, Kael," the Marak assured him.
"This is a first-time mother, and he may become very
emotional. But all vital signs for the surrogate and
the offspring are within acceptable tolerances. There
is no danger."

"Help me," the surrogate begged. "Please, god. Help
me!"

His face was bright red with strain, and sweat beaded
along his hairline and above his lip. His legs
trembled as he squatted. His belly rippled. His organ
was dark purple and swollen. It stood straight out
from his body, and milky droplets glistened at its
tip.

"Make it stop. *Please*, make it stop!" he pleaded.

"Can't you at least give him something for the pain?"
Garon demanded of the Marak.

"Pain medication at this stage might harm the child
and impede delivery. This surrogate is very close to
giving birth. The worst of the contractions are over,
and according to the instruments, his anus is fully
dilated. It's almost time to push."

At that moment, the surrogate froze, and his eyes went
wide with terror.

"Oh, *fuck*! It's coming out my ass. I *feel* it. You
bastards! What the hell are you going to me?"

"Surrogate #45128," the technician spoke calmly into
the comm port. "Soon, you should feel your sphincter
pulsing open. This is a sign that it's time to push."

The surrogate shook his head. His face was streaked
with tears. 

"No!" he said, emphatically. "Just cut it out of me.
Please! It's too big. It can't come out my ass. I
can't take it."

"Surrogate #45128, remain calm. Do you feel your anal
muscle opening?"

"Yes! And it hurts! My ass is killing me. *You're*
killing me. I'm going to die. Oh, god. I'm going to
die."

"Surrogate #45128, you are in no danger. But you do
need to push," the technician instructed him. "Just as
if you were having a bowel movement."

"Just cut it out of me! Please!"

"That is not possible. You have to push. The sooner
you cooperate, the sooner it will be over."

The surrogate took a deep breath, pushed and screamed.

"Aaaaagh! Oh, god. Oh, god. My ass is ripping apart."

"Stay calm. Continue pushing."

The surrogate panted for breath and then pushed some
more.

"God! Get it out of me. Just get it out. It's too big.
It's tearing me up inside."

"Keep pushing," the technician said. "It's almost
over."

The surrogate held his belly and wailed loudly as he
pushed as hard as he could. And then, Garon could see
the offspring's dark head begin to emerge from the
birth canal. The surrogate saw it too, in the
reflective surface of the wall. He screamed in terror.

"Push!" the technician commanded.

The surrogate grunted and gritted his teeth as he made
one final heave and pushed the baby all the way out.

Two Marak technicians hurried into the room. The first
went to the infant and used a surgical instrument to
free the baby from the natal membrane. It attached an
environater to the child's neck. The baby took its
first breath and then started shrieking. 

The Marak researcher turned to Garon.
"Congratulations, Kael. It is a female. Your people
have another healthy offspring."

"Is the surrogate going to be all right?" he asked.

The birth had left the man's anus torn and bleeding.
He moaned in pain as the other Marak technician
attended to him.

"The technician will repair the muscle and administer
pain medication. The anus will be just as strong as it
was before. This surrogate will be able to give birth
to many more offspring."

The technician helped the mother onto an anti-grav
gurney. The other Marak carried the infant from the
room.

"The offspring will be cleaned and given a complete
physical in the natal health unit. If there are no
problems, she will be returned to her mother in the
nursing suite."

Garon nodded. He could not trust himself to speak. Of
course, he had held each of the weaned infants that
had been delivered to Krill, before turning them over
to their adoptive families. Being Kael did have its
privileges. But to see his children actually being
born, to witness their first moments of life-- Well,
it nearly overwhelmed him. It had been such a long
time since he'd seen little hands balling into fists,
little eyes squinting as they took in the world for
the first time, little feet kicking with the sheer joy
of being alive. Nothing had ever been more beautiful,
on any planet, in any far corner of the cosmos. He was
certain of it.

"We can make a stop at the natal unit if you would
care to examine the offspring for yourself," the Marak
said.

"Yes. I would. But first, I want to see that other
mother deliver."

"Very well."

The Marak led him back to the appropriate console. The
mother had already started to push. His face was set
in an expression of intense concentration. He breathed
rhythmically in and out as he pushed. He held his
cheeks open with his hands and felt for the offspring.
As the head crowned and the child started to emerge,
he guided it the rest of the way out and gently
cushioned its landing. The mother slumped forward in
exhaustion. Marak technicians responded as they had to
the other birth.

"How would you describe the level of pain you are
experiencing?" the Marak asked the mother.

"Um, about a five, I think," he said. "It definitely
hurt a lot less than the last time."

The Marak nodded and administered the appropriate dose
of medication. The other Marak had already freed the
infant from the birth sack and was about to take the
baby away.

"Wait," the mother said. "Please. Can't I just hold
the baby for a moment?"

The Marak technicians exchanged a glance. Clearly,
this was not the usual procedure. But Garon felt
certain they'd been instructed to encourage the
emotional bonding the Marak found so useful in
controlling the surrogates.

The technician laid the child in the mother's arms.
"It is a male," it said.

The mother smiled blissfully down at his baby. "He's
so beautiful," he said.

They allowed him to cuddle the child for a few
minutes, and then the Marak took the baby back. "He
will be returned to you in the nursing suite," it said
and left the room.

The other technician carefully examined the mother's
anus and then mended it. "Is this degree of pain
management sufficient to your needs?" it asked.

The mother nodded. "Yeah. It's really not too bad. A
lot better than last time."

(Continued in Part 3/3)

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reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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