Message-ID: <34081asstr$1008479405@assm.asstr-mirror.org> Return-Path: <kali_mother@yahoo.com> X-Original-Message-ID: <20011216021308.32078.qmail@web11403.mail.yahoo.com> From: Mother Kali <kali_mother@yahoo.com> MIME-Version: 1.0 X-ASSTR-Arrival-Date: Sat, 15 Dec 2001 18:13:08 -0800 (PST) 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 X-Archived-At: <URL:http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/Year2001/34081> X-Moderator-Contact: ASSTR ASSM moderation <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Story-Submission: <ckought69@hotmail.com> X-Moderator-ID: dennyw, hecate 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) __________________________________________________ Do You Yahoo!? Check out Yahoo! Shopping and Yahoo! Auctions for all of your unique holiday gifts! Buy at http://shopping.yahoo.com or bid at http://auctions.yahoo.com -- Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated. +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ | alt.sex.stories.moderated ----- send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com> | | FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderator: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+ |Archive: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org> Hosted by Alt.Sex.Stories Text Repository | |<http://www.asstr-mirror.org>, an entity supported entirely by donations. | +---------------------------------------------------------------------------+