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Message-ID: <61508asstr$1316819403@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: "Riv" <rivyavtry@myway.com>
Importance: normal
Subject: {ASSM} Griven {Riv Yavtry} (M/F,rape,SciFi)
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Date: Fri, 23 Sep 2011 19:10:03 -0400
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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<1st attachment, "griven.txt" begin>

Usual disclaimers about this being a work of imagination, with no
relationship to real people or events.

This story would probably be better as a full-length novella. As it
is, it's the denouement interspersed with enough narrative to make
sense of the scenario - a real dog's breakfast. Nevertheless I
enjoyed writing it and I hope you enjoyed reading it.

All feedback welcome. After all, if you're reading this, it's
probably in your interests to help me become a better author.

(You can comment anonymously via the feedback form on my asstr site -
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/rivyavtry/www/or directly using -
http://secure.asstr-mirror.org/cgi-bin/ah_feedback.cgi?id=FEMDAIYELOZDWGN)

******************************* Griven {Riv Yavtry} (M/F,rape,SciFi)
*******************************

I gritted my teeth, took a deep breath and pressed my thumb on the
thumb pad. I never even noticed the prick.

"Welcome, Special Investigator Crowbridge," said the automated voice
as the door slid open, my DNA having been recognised.

We'd see just how welcome I was in the next few minutes. I really
didn't want to be here today, but a six-monthly face-to-face meeting
with the boss was mandatory unless deep undercover; non-appearance
resulting in an automatic suspension pending investigation. My
previous six-monthly had been carried out in the field in perfunctory
fashion by an unqualified field agent who basically only checked I
was still alive.

I waddled over to the lifts, noting the shocked appearances of some
casual acquaintances. Normally I'd climb the stairs to the
departmental offices on the fifth floor, but in my condition I really
didn't want to undergo the exertion.

When I stepped out of the lift of the fifth floor I waddled towards
the desk indicated, where the automated system would have retrieved
my belongings from storage. However I didn't make it that far before
the shit hit the fan.

"Crowbridge. My office. NOW!"

I should have known I wouldn't make it past Chief Prosecuter Edwin
Lambert's office without being noticed. I waddled inside, shutting
the door behind me and sitting down without being invited - I didn't
think he'd object under the circumstances.

Chief Prosecutor Lambert activated the privacy screens. That was bad
news; it meant I was REALLY going to be chewed out.

"Natalie, you're like a daughter to me, and I don't want anything
bad to happen to you, even though that's a risk we have to take in
our job. Your ability merits a lot of latitude in the cases you
pursue and the methods you use. I know how keen you are to nail the
bastard but please tell me you didn't get pregnant just to catch 'The
Fetal Cannibal Killer'."

"I didn't get pregnant just to catch 'The Fetal Cannibal Killer'," I
replied slowly and deliberately, knowing full well the Chief
Prosecutor would be monitoring my voice patterns with lie-detection
software.

A strange look passed over his face, a sort of combination of relief
that I wasn't lying coupled with disbelief and exasperation that
somehow software hadn't worked. I reckon I could have beaten the
software anyway, but in this case I was telling the literal truth.

We both had a very good idea who 'The Fetal Cannibal Killer' was,
the man who abducted heavily pregnant women and raped them, then cut
their fetuses from their wombs while they were still alive to cook
and eat while their mothers bled to death. But so far billionaire
industrialist Jake Kalazari had managed to leave absolutely no
forensic evidence and had been able to supply what looked like cast-
iron alibis for the time of each murder, although we suspected the
alibis had been bought. It was almost as though he was mocking us,
because he made no effort to hide the crimes other than destroying
all forensic evidence. 

When I was recruited to the Galactic Bureau of Investigation,
situated on Bellhanger 2, there was only one known victim known to
the bureau, found on Bellhanger 2 itself, but the trail had gone
cold. About a year later there was a second victim on Bellhanger 2,
the name 'The Fetal Cannibal Killer' was coined and the bureau re-
opened the investigation in earnest.

Despite my junior status at the time, I was the one who realised
that the killer was almost certainly a wealthy offworlder, and I
initiated contact with a sample of other worlds of similar high-end
industrialised status. The results turned up further victims with an
identical modus operandi. The search was widened and even more
victims were uncovered, giving us a body count of at least fifty over
a five year time span.

The bureau threw unprecedented resources at this headline-breaking
case, and again I was the one to make the next breakthrough. I
collated and checked immigration records for all the worlds concerned
but there was only one offworlder on every world at the time of every
murder: Jake Kalazari. But when you had twenty respected businessmen
and political leaders giving him an alibi for the time of each
murder, it seemed the only way to secure a conviction would be to
catch him in the act.

The sudden outbreak of terrorism stopped the investigation in its
tracks. All resources were switched to hunting down and catching the
terrorists. The brutal murder and butchery of fifty women was small
fry in comparison to the hundreds of thousands killed and injured in
the bombings.

Much as I hated to leave the investigation at such a stage, I
accepted an undercover role to infiltrate a terrorist cell based on a
primitive world on the galactic outer rim. The terrorists were not
too bright, and easily suckered by an apparent pretty female zealot
such as myself. That was where I heard of the strange life-cycle of
the Griven, a symbiotic parasite which had adapted to human colonists
on a remote backwoods world called Daventer 4.

"Jesus! Please tell me you didn't fuck a terrorist!"

Three things struck me. I had worked for Chief Prosecutor Lambert
for a number of years now, and I knew that 'Please tell me' was a
personal 'tell' that the response was going to be subject to the lie-
detection software. Second, I found the use of the expletive unusual,
because he wasn't normally prone to emotive language. And third,
fucking a suspect in the line of duty wasn't a requirement of the job
but it was acceptable practice so it should have been no big deal for
him. Perhaps he really did care for me beyond the normal Chief
Prosecutor/Special Investigator relationship. 

"I didn't fuck a terrorist. After I brought down the terrorist cell
on Macahailie 5 I treated myself to a little R&R and hired a male
escort."

Chief Prosecutor Lambert looked shocked. The concept of my having to
pay for sex was something which hadn't crossed his mind. What he
didn't know was that I had travelled to Daventer 4 to hire the escort.

In a bid to control the Griven, notification had been made mandatory
when infection was diagnosed, and sex between infected and clean
people was strictly prohibited. However my special status as a
Special Investigator with the GBI meant I could get away with things
that average citizens couldn't. I had deliberately tracked down a
male escort who was infected. He was actually quite cute and I
enjoyed the sex, but he wasn't a keeper.

On our last night together, we were cuddling in post-coital bliss.

"What's it like having swimmers living in your prostate?" I asked him.

That shocked him to the core and he tried to make a break for it,
but I was able to hold him down. You have to be very fit to be a
Special Investigator.

"Jesus, I thought you wouldn't know."

"I have my sources."

"You're not a cop, are you?"

He was seriously worried now because he wasn't too bright. Ordinary
cops wouldn't deliberately have allowed themselves to become
infected, as hopefully I had just done.

"Actually I am," I said, pausing for a second to toy with the guy,
"but I need to be infected with a mature Griven as part of an
undercover operation."

"So you're not going to turn me in?"

"No, that would blow my cover. But I might tip off my sources to
keep an eye on you in future." 

"Okay, I'm turning over a new leaf right now."

"Good. You're cute and good in bed and I wouldn't like to see you in
trouble. So what does it feel like to be infected?"

"I hardly notice it. I guess it's like when you're old and you have
an enlarged prostate. I sometimes have difficulty peeing and I have
to pee more often, but it actually seems to help my sexual
functionality."

"So I can see," I commented, noting that his beautiful cock was hard
again already.

I rolled him on his back and mounted him, taking his full length in
one smooth motion.

"Let's make absolutely sure I get infected," I laughed, as I started
raising and lowering myself in the age-old rhythm.

I smiled inwardly at the happy memory. 

Infected people are forbidden to leave Daventer 4, but I was a
Special Investigator and I knew how to buck the system. The infection
seemed to increase my libido, but I knew better than to let a cock
anywhere near my cunt - my Griven would have released a bunch of
swimmers to make their way up the urethra of the cock and into the
prostate of the guy fucking me. Instead I made do with the
unsatisfactory substitutes of toys, occasional gifts of cunnilingus
and the very occasional ass fuck.

I hung around in the boondocks for a few months, doing unnecessary
grunt work which I should have delegated to the locals, while my
Griven rapidly grew to maturity, nourished by my high protein diet. I
deliberately wanted its timeline to be obscure. 

I looked at Chief Prosecutor Lambert with new eyes. I knew he wasn't
married. I wondered what his cock was like, and whether he was any
good in bed. I felt myself getting wet down below. Christ, the Griven
was actually making me consider fucking my boss! I felt a hot flush
flow through me at that realisation.

 "Jesus, I hope you didn't get infected with anything," continued
Chief Prosecutor Lambert.

"Well obviously I did!"

"Okay," he rolled his eyes and sighed, "when is it due?"

"A couple of weeks, but a first baby often late."

I threw in that last detail to add to my dissemblance.

"If I'd known, I wouldn't have summoned you in here so urgently. Get
your paperwork up to date today and lodged with Prosecutor Esterhass
then you're on paid leave. Take as long as you need. You're one of my
best investigators and if a few extra weeks is what it takes to
persuade you to come back to work afterwards, it will be worth every
credit."

"Thank you, but I was planning on working right up until the end.
Even in this condition," I indicated the huge bump emerging from my
abdomen, "I can revisit 'The Fetal Cannibal Killer' local crime
scenes and case notes and see if we missed anything."

"Okay, but be careful."

I left the Chief Prosecutor's office with a huge sigh of relief.
That could have been a lot worse.

I made my way to my designated desk and logged in to the system.
Fortunately my official status was still logged as 'deep undercover'
so I was able to authorise a new ID for myself: Natasha Crowthorne,
tourist, married to Ralston Crowthorne, entrepreneur, visiting
Bellhanger 2 on holiday and checked into a decent hotel. I filled in
background details and set the software in motion to enter me in all
the databases necessary for my new identity to pass background
checks. 

I raided Tech Services for a pair of their latest contact lenses.
They could record sound and vision for up to 24 hours, and since they
didn't transmit they were virtually undetectable unless someone was
specifically looking for them. I had a sample of my DNA registered
against my new ID and a PhotoPass card generated with me wearing the
contact lenses. To confound identification by occasional
acquaintances I had already changed my hairstyle from my bureau
PhotoPass card, lightening the shade and cutting it short - no big
loss since despite the high protein diet, my hair had become lank and
brittle due to the Griven leeching my minerals. Finally I contacted
Procurement and mandated them to supply two tickets to the Grand
Opening of the Jake Kalazari Museum of Contemporary Art on Bellhanger
2, to be attended by Jake Kalazari himself. I reckoned two tickets,
one of which would remain unused, would make my cover story more
convincing.

The day of the Grand Opening I got myself nicely scrubbed up, bought
a posh frock which nevertheless fitted over my bump, and hired some
bling. Examining myself in the mirror I was pleased, I looked every
inch a plutocrat's trophy wife.

After my taxi dropped me off, I showed my tickets to the doorman and
explained that my husband had been called away on business. He
directed me to the ante-room where the opening ceremony was due to
take place. A generous buffet had been laid on plus complimentary
Champagne and soft drinks. I mingled with the other attendees,
playing the part of the trophy wife tourist to the full.

Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jake Kalazari himself,
talking with some museum officials on a makeshift stage. Eventually
he noticed me, and fired a lengthy stare in my direction. The hook
was baited!

Standing up was making me tired, so I had an attendant rustle up a
chair for me. Just in time, because the ceremony was just about to
start. I attracted more than a few envious glances!

The speeches took quite a while. Minor dignitary followed minor
dignitary in praising Jake Kalazari and his generous contributions to
the arts. All the time, Jake kept flicking glances in my direction
from his seat on the stage. Finally it was Jake's turn, and he kept
his speech mercifully short, thanking everyone who had made his dream
of a museum come to fruition, and thanking everyone for coming to
join the celebration. All the time he seemed to be staring in my
direction. Finally he was handed a pair of scissors, and used them to
cut a ceremonial ribbon.

"I now declare the Jake Kalazari Museum of Contemporary Art open.
Please feel free to spend the rest of the evening wandering round and
enjoying the wonderful exhibits." 

The doors to the various exhibition halls were opened. I got up,
waddled into one and started to look around. I didn't want to make it
too easy for Jake.

From one hall to the next, and then a third, I wandered round the
exhibits, pretending to be interested. No sign of Jake, but I knew I
had to be patient because I was sure I had piqued his interest.
Finally he was there at my shoulder and I hadn't even noticed.

"Good evening," he said. "Are you a follower of contemporary art?"

I discreetly switched on the contact lenses so that they would
record everything I saw or heard from now on.

"You're Jake Kalazari, aren't you? It's such an honor to meet you!
I'm afraid my husband's the art enthusiast but he couldn't be here
tonight. I had to come anyway so I could tell him all about it. You
might have heard of him, Ralston Crowthorne."

"Sorry, no, but I meet so many people. What line of business is he
in?"

"He's a commodity trader. He buys things cheap on one planet and has
them shipped to another planet where he can sell them on for a
profit."

"I see. Perhaps we could do business together. Have him give me a
call," he said, handing me a business card.

"Thank you. Is there somewhere I can sit down for a moment? All this
walking around is killing me."

"Of course. There's a private room for just such an eventuality. Let
me escort you there."

Jake escorted me to the room, a sort of private lounge for
entertaining guests.

"Can I get you another drink?" he asked.

"Please. Another Champagne if I may, you've honored us with a
classic vintage this evening."

Jake disappeared, then returned a couple of minutes later with a
bottle of Champagne. He popped the cork and poured us both a glass. I
noted that there was an instant when my glass was hidden from view.
He was undoubtedly administering a drug of some sort, but that was
what I expected. I knew he'd want me conscious when he raped me, so I
drained the glass as greedily as a trophy wife might.

When I woke up, I was definitely no longer in the museum; I was
lying on a bed in a luxurious suite somewhere. Fortunately he had
used one of the newer sedatives, so I didn't have a headache or a
hangover mouth. I was still fully dressed, so I hadn't been violated
yet. I had been sure Jake would want to look into my eyes while
raping me. 

My wrists and ankles had been immobilised by portable stasis
generators: very expensive, but much more reliable and comfortable
than old-fashioned rope. Officially the bureau used stasis generators
to restrain prisoners in transit, but unofficially we also used them
in more volatile situations. If someone was holding a hostage with a
gun to their head, we'd zap them with a giant stasis field then
disable the perp - a bullet through the head was often the choice!
But these models were way fancier than the technology we used. 

Now that I was awake, I was strangely keen for events to put a move
on. I had no idea how long I had been out, or how long Jake would
keep me waiting. It seemed like hours, but was probably only a
fraction of that. I could at least wriggle my body so it wasn't stuck
in one position, not that I was in any danger of contracting bed
sores.

At last the door slid open and Jake walked in.

"Special Investigator Crowbridge, I see you're awake at last."

"You've made a mistake. I'm Natasha Crowthorne, and my husband is
going to be very angry when he finds out about this."

"You're Special Investigator Natalie Crowbridge. I have a copy of
your Galactic Bureau of Investigation file and DNA sample. There's no
point in prolonging your charade."

I thought quickly. That meant there was a mole inside the bureau. I
really needed to get out of this alive to report the fact.

"Jake Kalazari, you are under arrest for the rape and murder of
fifty women, fifty illegal abortions, fifty cases of cannibalism and
the abduction of a government agent. If you do not surrender
peacefully I may use commensurate force."

"I surrender," joked Jake, holding his hands in the air for a
moment. "No, wait, you're the one who's tied down and helpless."

"My colleagues know where I am. They're likely to come through that
door at any moment."

"Yes, they know you're at home in your apartment. I'm in a board
meeting, as twenty respectable local business will testify. Even you
don't know where you are. I suspect it's a trap of some sort, but
it's so clever that I can't work it out so I'm just going to play
along and see what happens. I've been following your career with
great interest, Special Investigator. You've caused me more problems
than all of your colleagues put together. What I'm about to do now
might possibly be the crowning achievement of my life."

"It will definitely be your swan song."

Jake pulled out a vicious looking knife. The blade matched the
autopsy descriptions of the knife which butchered the women. I
shivered involuntarily. Fortunately his only aim at the moment was to
slice my clothing away until I was completely naked. Again the
autopsy findings had been correct; the women were still alive when
they were raped.

When the deed was done, he gently ran his hands over my body,
lovingly cupping my tits. Christ, my tits! They didn't look like
those of a pregnant woman, not swollen with milk and with enlarged,
darkened areolas. Fortunately Jake hadn't noticed. He gently rolled
and squeezed my nipples and to my horror I saw them harden. He
diverted his attention to my bump, stroking it gently, perhaps hoping
to feel a fetus kicking.

"So what will it be, a boy or a girl?"

Shit, another possible cock-up in my plan; Jake could easily have
given me an ultrasound. I really was riding my luck.

"It's going to be a surprise."

Jake took off his own clothes. He was slightly below average height
and a bit pudgy with thinning hair, but immaculately groomed, just as
you might expect a successful business magnate to be. But when he
revealed his cock I was very impressed. Although average length it
was very thick and an upward curve which meant the head would rub
against my G-Spot while fucking me. If only we'd met under different
circumstances I might have enjoyed it.

Using the portable stasis generators, Jake dragged me to the edge of
the bed then he put a pillow under my ass. He pulled my ankles up to
my thighs with my knees splayed outwards. All he needed to do to fuck
me was stand there and stick his cock in.

"Please don't do this, you'll be making a big mistake," I told him
in a controlled voice.

"You're a very special woman, Special Investigator Crowbridge. All
the other women in this situation were crying and begging me to spare
their lives."

"Well I'm trying to save yours!" I replied sassily, despite the
sinking feeling I was getting.

If Jake followed his usual schedule, he was already as good as dead.
The only issue to be settled was whether I would live through it too.
For that to happen, I had to be really in fear of my life, and hating
being raped. I had been so confident about my plan that I hadn't
really been afraid. With the extra horniness endowed by my symbiotic
parasite coupled with Jake's beautiful cock, there was the horrible
possibility my body would betray me and enjoy the fuck.

Jake lubed his cock, expecting me to be dry. I had no idea whether I
was or not.  I deeply regretted my earlier impatience. If only I
could wind back time and start over with the knowledge I currently
had.

Jake approached the bed; the moment of resolution was at hand.

I tried everything I could think of. I wrestled against the stasis
fields, I thought of my friends and family, I thought of my
colleagues, then I thought of fifty women, raped and butchered and
left to bleed to death while Jake cooked and ate their fetuses.

Jake's cock slid in. It felt so good. My body was screaming at me to
relax and enjoy the fuck. No, I had to fight it, I didn't want to be
raped, I didn't want to die! Jake's cock hit my cervix. I'm not
religious, but at that moment I closed my eyes and prayed.

The next moment Jake was screaming.

If Jake were having consensual sex with me, the parasitic nature of
my Griven would prevail and he'd only get an infection of swimmers,
his demise coming later when he butchered me to try to extract the
fetus. However I had persuaded the Griven that my life was in danger,
and the sex was non-consensual and its symbiotic nature had come into
play, making it protect its host.

When you give birth naturally, it involves a lot of time and a lot
of pain. Somehow a Griven can control the host's body so that
complete dilation of the cervix can happen almost instantaneously and
with minimal pain.   

I opened my eyes to record as Jake pulled his cock out of my cunt.
Actually there was only a bloody stump left, and that was firmly in
the grip of my Griven's teeth. Imagine something the size of a
domestic pussy-cat, only completely bald and smooth. Add the head and
teeth of a shark and you get a pretty good idea of what the mature
extra-uterine form of this ruthless carnivore looks like. A Griven
has two jaws so one set of teeth can maintain a vise-like grip on its
prey while the other advances. Once a Griven attacks, it never gives
up until either it or its prey are dead.

Jake didn't stand a chance, and he was quickly reduced to a pile of
bloody bones and a large red stain on the carpet. I forced myself to
watch so that the whole thing could be recorded by the contact lenses.

That left me with the problem of escaping from my restraints and
this unfamiliar room; I didn't want any of Jake's minions to find me.
I had heard stories of the psychic link between a mature extra-
uterine Griven and its host but obviously they had to be bunkum.
After all, psychic phenomena are contrary to the laws of science. And
yet I found myself willing instructions to my Griven. Even stranger,
I actually felt affinity for this weird feral creature.

'Come here sweetie, get on the bed just there, out of range of the
stasis fields. Now jump at the portable generator and try to knock it
over.'

To my utter astonishment, the Griven obliged. At the first attempt
it merely jiggled the generator a fraction, but at the second attempt
it knocked it round until it was facing away from me. I had a wrist
free! I grabbed a pillow and threw it at another generator,
disorientating that too so my other wrist was free, and then it was a
simple matter to liberate my ankles and free myself completely.

As I stood up to examine the room the Griven leapt into my arms,
causing me to stagger as I struggled to support it now that it had
the weight of Jake's flesh inside its stomach. I managed to balance
its weight on my slowly deflating bump, stroking it gently and
causing it to sigh happily. I was going to have to do some hard
exercising to get my figure back!

I decided to call the Griven 'Jake'. After all, there was a lot of
Jake in it. All his flesh, that is.

Fuck, I was giving it a name? Actually that brought to mind a cruel
trick of Evolution. Once a Griven was lured out of its host it became
neuter - no more propagation through swimmers. Afterwards they made
very good guard pets, although only for singletons. Their strong link
to their symbiote plus their ferocious nature meant that they often
ended up devouring partners or children. On Daventer 4 mature extra-
uterine Griven were quite legal, although licensing was a
requirement. 

The propensity of mature intra-uterine Griven to emerge and devour
rapists was well documented although rare. The usual method of
persuading a mature Griven to leave its host was to lure it out with
raw, bloody meat in or near the host's cunt. Although parasitic, it
wasn't trying to wipe out its host species so had to leave an out for
the hosts to propagate and continue. My male escort on Daventer 4
would become clean and normally fertile after enough ejaculations to
exhaust his dose of swimmers, provided he didn't fuck any infected
women in the meantime.

I quickly found evidence of where I was - the Presidential Suite of
the Hilton Hotel on Bellhanger 3. Jake had somehow even managed to
smuggle me off the planet, the bastard! 

I knew that there was a panic button situated in the suite, and if I
pressed it the local cops would arrive within minutes. I also knew
that they'd come in with hair-triggers and the most likely outcome
would be our demise in a hail of bullets. Our? Damn this symbiotic
link, it was forcing me to consider the welfare of the remorseless
killing machine sighing happily in my arms.

I found a robe in the bathroom and put it on so that I wasn't naked,
my clothes and Jake's having been ripped to shreds. I couldn't find
any useable footwear. Amongst the bloody heap of bones I found a tiny
scrap of Jake's flesh. I really needed to get out of this suite so I
held the flesh up to the thumb pad on the entrance. Success, the door
slid open granting me entry to the express elevator down to the
ground floor lobby. At least it was a better option than staying in
the room.

I quickly thought through my options. I decided to brazen it out,
although it was going to take a hell of a lot of chutzpah.

At the lobby I got out and walked across to the reception desk,
carefully selecting a male receptionist while feigning extreme
tiredness and possible narcotic intoxication.

"Those guys sure know how to party, I'm pooped. Could you call me a
taxi?"   

He looked at me, dressed only in one of the hotel's bathrobes, and
looked as though he was going to protest. I stroked my Griven and it
sighed.

"What the hell's that?" asked the receptionist.

"A rare breed of cat," I lied. "A superlative present to a
superlative fuck. I bet you would love to fuck me too if you could
afford me."

The receptionist turned beet red, I had pegged him to a 't'.
Flustered, he forgot about his previous concerns and ordered a taxi.
It arrived almost instantly. I didn't have anything to tip him so I
leaned over, grasped his head and kissed him. I forced his mouth open
and swapped tongues for a fleeting moment. My robe 'accidentally'
ballooned open at the top, giving him an eyeful of my tits, then I
pulled away.

"See you again sometime," I bade, as I made for the taxi.

I had simultaneously made and ruined his day. My last glimpse was of
him nervously rearranging his pants to hide the erection I had given
him.

I sauntered up to the taxi as if it were the most natural thing in
the world to be barefoot, wearing only a stolen bathrobe and carrying
a strange carnivore.

"Police Headquarters please," I said, getting into the taxi.

It was a relief to sit down and take the weight of Jake off my feet.
Well, the weight of both Jakes, come to think of it.

"Certainly miss. And how are you planning to pay?" asked the driver
superciliously, pointedly not moving.

I was tempted to let Jake the Griven give him a playful nip, but the
danger was it wouldn't stop until the taxi driver was completely
reduced to bloody bones like Jake Kalazari.

"Credit."

The taxi driver passed me a thumb pad. Fortunately I still had the
little bit of Jake's flesh.

"That will be fine, er, Mr Kalazari," he said, and pulled away from
the hotel.

"My employer. I have special authorisation," I lied.

The taxi driver wouldn't care as long as he got paid, and it sounded
plausible.

A short time later we pulled up outside the Police Station.

"No, this is the Police Station. It's full of police. I want Police
Headquarters. It's full of bureaucrats," I sighed.

"Sorry, I don't know where that is."

"You could ask a policeman," I suggested, as one walked over to the
taxi to point out we were in a controlled parking zone.

The taxi driver asked for and received directions, and drove me to
my preferred destination.

"Well," he observed, looking at the large, anonymous office block,
"all the years I've been driving round here I never knew this was the
Police Headquarters."

I authorised a very generous tip to the taxi driver for being so
obligingly stupid. After all, I wasn't paying. I struggled out of the
taxi carrying Jake and walked up to the main entrance. I pressed my
thumb on the thumb pad.

"Sorry, your DNA has not been recognised. Please use the intercom to
call for assistance."

I pressed the buzzer and miraculously a real human answered.

"Yes?"

"This is Special Investigator Crowbridge of the Galactic Bureau of
Investigation. I require the use of a private office and a secure
line to GBI Headquarters on Bellhanger 2."

Bureaucrats are easy to deal with if they think you outrank them. At
the Police Station I could have been made to wait hours before they'd
let me have what I wanted, and by that time the remains of Jake
Kalazari might have been discovered and I would have been in deep
shit with the locals.  

"Please make your way to reception."

The door buzzed open and I went in. Reception turned out to be the
empty room inside the door. Bureaucrats like their little jokes.

A bureaucrat appeared, and seemed shocked that I was barefoot,
wearing only a bathrobe, and carrying a strange creature. I jumped in
first to keep him off balance.

"Please get me an identification device linked to the Galactic
Bureau of Investigation personnel database."

Happy that the problem of what to do with me was temporarily
postponed, he scuttled away. A few minutes later he returned with a
portable thumb pad. I pressed my thumb onto the device.

"Special Investigator Crowbridge - DNA recognised," it intoned.

That surprised the bureaucrat. He thought there was no way someone
dressed like me, or rather undressed like me, could possibly be who I
had claimed.

"Um, what did you want again?" he asked, suitably cowed.

"The use of a private office, a secure line to GBI headquarters on
Bellhanger 2, and I'd appreciate something to wear. Deep cover sucks
sometimes."

Even using the emergency code, it was nearly half an hour before
Chief Prosecutor Lambert came on the line. In the meantime the
bureaucrat managed to rustle up a Maintenance Department boiler suit
for me, better than nothing although I wouldn't have minded some
underwear - I was leaking down below and the boiler suit quickly
developed a wet patch at the groin. I secured the door and programmed
it only to admit the Chief Prosecutor, then settled Jake the Griven
on the floor. 

"Jesus, Natalie, what's so important that you have to disturb me at
five in the morning?"

I had forgotten that Bellhanger 2 and Bellhanger 3 were on different
times. It was about nine hours since Jake Kalazari had drugged me.

"I'm in Police Headquarters on Bellhanger 3. 'The Fetal Cannibal
Killer' Case has just broken and it's going to get nasty."

Chief Prosecutor Lambert audibly sighed. 

"Jake Kalazari is in an all-night board meeting. We've got people
watching him."

"All that's left of Jake Kalazari is a bloody pile of bones in the
Penthouse suite of the Hilton Hotel on Bellhanger 3, but I got a
recording of an admission of guilt before he died."

"That's impossible, he can't be in two places at once."

I put the tiny scrap of Jake Kalazari's flesh on the thumb pad.

"Jake Kalazari - DNA recognised," it intoned.

"Jake has insiders in the bureau," I explained. "He even had my DNA
and personal details. We need agents we can really trust on this one."

"Jesus. Did you kill him?"

"No, I didn't touch him. Actually he raped me. It's all recorded."

"What killed him then?"

"Let's just say I wished him dead, and it worked. The recording will
explain everything but I'll hand it over to you and you only."

I was aware of a growing, gnawing pain in my stomach and cunt. Well,
I had sort of given birth not long ago and I no longer had the
anaesthetic benefits of my symbiote inside me.

"How's your baby?"

"It's a long story. Just promise me that when someone comes to bring
me in, they won't shoot anything."

"Okay, but I won't even pretend I understand that. We'll have to do
this by the book. I'll get Internal Affairs involved. Local
Bellhanger 3 forensics can handle the hotel crime scene under our
supervision. No agent will operate alone. I'll come and pick you up
myself, accompanied by Prosecutor Esterhass."

"Thanks. And bring some clothes and incontinence pads."

The pain was finally too much, and I slumped to the floor. Jake the
Griven came over and lay down too, nestling against my stomach. The
pain eased and I drifted into a deep sleep.

I was woken by the cold water spraying me. Someone had set off the
sprinkler system! The phone was ringing and Jake the Griven was by
the door, hissing furiously. My stomach and cunt were aching again
but not as badly as before.

I hauled myself into the chair and mentally summoned Jake. It
bounded over and leapt into my lap, temporarily winding me. I stroked
it and it purred, and I felt the gnawing pains recede again. I
answered the phone.

"Special Investigator Crowbridge."

"Thank God. It's Chief Prosecutor Lambert and Prosecutor Esterhass
with backup. We're right outside. We tried to come in but there was a
ferocious animal guarding the door. The others wanted to shoot it but
you said not to and it looked as though it hadn't harmed you. When
you didn't answer the phone we turned the sprinklers on."

"Thanks, if anything happened to this creature, I think I'd be in
even deeper shit that I currently am. You can come in now, it's
pacified."

The sprinklers had been switched off as soon as I had identified
myself. The boiler suit was soaking wet which was sort of good
because it hid the wet patch on my crotch.

The door was cautiously opened and Chief Prosecutor Lambert,
Prosecutor Esterhass and five people wearing naval uniforms came in,
another two stationing themselves outside.

"We checked Kalazari's Board Meeting and he wasn't there so we
arrested our agents who were reporting that he was. Internal Affairs
didn't think they could cope with something of this magnitude so I
went right to the top and Naval Intelligence agreed to help us out.
Every one of our operatives on this case now has a Naval Intelligence
operative shadowing everything they do. I'm in charge for now but
that could change at any moment so time is of the essence," explained
Chief Prosecutor Lambert.

He indicated three of the naval personnel in the room, all female.

"Two out of three of these officers will be with you 24/7 for
protection, even when you go to pee. The other two are shadows for
myself and Prosecutor Esterhass. The two officers outside are for
general security. Prosecutor Esterhass has the items you requested.
There's a bathroom with a shower on this floor, the officers will
take you there. Get cleaned up and dressed then go up to the top
floor. We've requisitioned the Police Commissioner's complementary
apartment for the debriefing."

"We've got a device upstairs to read and copy the contact lens
recordings," said Prosecutor Esterhass. "If you give us the lenses,
we can process them while we're waiting for you."

Prosecutor Esterhass went up in my estimation, that was a good idea
and would save some time. I  removed the contact lenses, putting them
in the special container she proffered. The other two naval officers
made notes to confirm chain of custody.

I got up, holding Jake the Griven tightly. Prosecutor Esterhass made
to hand me a travel bag, then turned and gave it to one of the women
naval officers as she realised my arms were already full.

The three women naval officers and I went to the bathroom. I put
Jake the Griven on the floor, feeling a slight pang of loss and an
increase in my gnawing pains. I stroked Jake until it sighed happily,
then mentally bade it stay while I took a shower. The naval officers
were rightly nervous but fortunately did nothing to enrage my Griven.

After I was clean and dry I raided the travel bag. It contained full
dress uniform - not a good sign, it suggested some sort of formal
interview - underwear, incontinence pads and shoes. I got dressed,
although the panties were a stretch with an incontinence pad and my
still bloated stomach to contend with, and I had to leave the pants
unfastened at the waist.

I picked up Jake, feeling grateful at its alleviation of my pains
despite its weight, and we made out way up to the top floor. Two
naval officers were outside the complementary apartment on guard duty.

We went in. There were eight people already inside: Chief Prosecutor
Lambert, Prosecutor Esterhass, two guys from Tech Services and their
four naval shadows. The Tech Services guys had already made multiple
duplicates of the recordings, and they were now watching them play.
On my direction they fast-forwarded to the good bit. I grabbed a
comfy seat, stroking Jake as it lay on my lap.

Everybody's eyes were glued to the 3-D screen as Jake Kalazari
entered the bedroom, and watched with utter fascination as events
played out. When Jake started playing with my tits, one or two of the
audience surreptitiously rearranged their pants. My tits are quite
nice anyway, but I have to admit that the slightly distorted view was
flattering.

When Jake screamed, and the audience saw the Griven emerge from my
cunt with a death-grip on Jake Kalazari's cock, then overpower and
eat its victim, several of the audience flinched then turned various
shades of white or green. Unfortunately, or fortunately for my
modesty, there wasn't a cunt-eye view of the scene.

Shortly after my escape from the stasis fields, the Chief Prosecutor
stopped the playback. He had a grim look on his face.

"Everyone take a break for refreshments. When we resume I will be
asking Special Investigator Crowbridge to give her version of events
up to and including what we've just seen. But what the fuck is that
thing?" Chief Prosecutor Lambert indicated my Griven.

Jake didn't like his tone and hissed, making everyone jump. A couple
of the naval officers let their hands drift menacingly close to their
sidearms. I stroked Jake until it was sighing again.

"This is a Griven, a parasitic symbiote from Daventer 4. I know it
sounds far-fetched but there seems to be some sort of psychic link
between us. If you harm either one of us or try to separate us, I'm
unsure what the consequences might be. I call it Jake because there's
a lot of Jake Kalazari in it, as you saw from the recordings."

That brought out a nervous titter from some of the assembly.

A buffet and drinks had been laid on. No raw meat, but Jake would be
sated for quite a while. I tucked in, my body telling me that I need
to replace fluids and nutrients.

When we reconvened I sat down and composed myself. I looked at the
seated audience facing me. I found it mildly amusing that I had been
sexually interested in Chief Prosecutor Lambert last time we had met.
That was purely the effect of the Griven on my libido, he was older
than my father. I really didn't fancy a cock anywhere near my sore
cunt at the moment. On the other hand, I couldn't see how I had
failed to notice Prosecutor Simone Esterhass before. She was about
ten years older than me and quite cute in an understated way. It
would be nice to feel her tongue licking my cunt and clitty, and I'd
like to taste her too.

I shook my head in an attempt to clear it - the Griven sighing
contentedly in my lap was still messing with my libido. 

I told my story. I didn't leave much out. I left out the pleasure I
got from fucking the male escort. I made no secret of violating
Daventer 4 quarantine laws. I explained the problem I had when Jake
Kalazari was about to rape me, that I might not be afraid enough to
lure out my Griven, but I didn't mention what an unexpectedly
beautiful cock the late billionaire industrialist was endowed with. I
didn't mention my apparent psychic link to my symbiote because I
didn't think it was strictly relevant to the record.

After I finished there was complete silence.

"If there are no questions, I need to go to the bathroom again to
change my pad."

"Do you need to see a doctor?" asked one of the women naval officers.

"I guess I'd better."

"Can it wait until we get you back to Bellhanger 2?" asked the Chief
Prosecutor.

"I think so, provided Jake is in close proximity at all times. It
seems to be alleviating the pain."

The Chief prosecutor dismissed me to the bathroom, accompanied of
course by the three women naval officers, while he went into a huddle
with the others. By the time we got back, some sort of decision had
been made.

"Special Investigator Crowbridge, you are hereby suspended from duty
pending a tribunal. Until then you and your symbiote will be returned
to Bellhanger 2 by diplomatic transport to avoid scrutiny, and there
you will be confined to a Naval Intelligence Safe House, the location
of which will not be known to any Galactic Bureau of Investigation
personnel, including myself."

I recognised the official tone - that was going on the record along
with my testimony.

The Chief Prosecutor then looked at the Tech Services guys and
received some sort of signal.

"Off the record," the Chief Prosecutor added conspiratorially, "that
is the most unbelievably stupid thing I have ever seen from any of my
Investigators, and the galaxy owes you a huge debt of gratitude for
ridding it of such a monster."

A spontaneous round of cheering and applause broke out, although it
was noticeable that nobody came up to shake my hand or the like
because of the Griven sitting in my lap.  

***** Epilogue *****

No biological heirs to Jake Kalazari could be found to take over his
empire - no surprise - and none of his lieutenants had the balls to
step up to the plate, so after a month the threat was reassessed and
my house arrest relaxed. About time too, I hads been going stir crazy
and had already seduced all three women naval officers assigned to
guard/protect me. I was allowed out under armed guard and permitted
authorised visitors, including Chief Prosecutor Lambert, who slipped
me an illegal copy of my contact lenses recording. I spent lots of
time exercising, getting back to my fighting weight.

The whole shooting-match was hijacked by the politicians, and a
cover-up was settled upon as the best solution. So many businessmen
and dignitaries on so many worlds were implicated in the corruption
that it would have taken forever and caused utter chaos to prosecute
them all. Jake Kalazari was publicly eulogised as a great
industrialist and philanthropist, but his empire was quietly
dissolved back to its constituent companies. An awful lot of
businessmen and dignitaries made sizeable charitable donations then
retired to 'spend more time with their families'. Half a dozen junior
agents in the Galactic Bureau of Investigation were found to be
corrupt and summarily sacked with black marks on their records.

The announcement of the death of the unnamed chief suspect in 'The
Fetal Cannibal Killer' case warranted media headlines and speculation
for a few days then quickly died.

A team of scientists was authorised to travel to Daventer 4 to
examine the relationship between mature extra-uterine Griven and
their hosts but budget cuts whittled the number down to one, and he
was never heard of again.

My tribunal never happened, but my silence was bought after
negotiations with faceless bureaucrats. I was granted a full pardon
for my crimes on Daventer 4. I could no longer work undercover with
my Griven in tow, so I was given a sideways promotion to Prosecutor,
still working for Chief Prosecutor Lambert but with a special remit
for field investigations.

I was allowed my freedom, and so was Jake provided I kept it muzzled
and on a leash in public. A new category of PhotoPass was created for
a person plus a symbiote, and I was the first holder. No doubt others
would follow when the legislation filtered down to Daventer 4.  

There were a few other personal bequests, most of which are
irrelevant here. I had experimental surgery to remove the stretch
marks and stomach flap that carrying the Griven had left me with.
Precision lasers remove slices of skin one cell wide, so narrow that
it heals without scarring. My stomach and skin are now washboard flat
again. With expense not an object the surgeons were keen to try the
same technique on my cunt, but no way was I going to let them stick
lasers up there. Instead I used the old-fashioned technique of pelvic
floor exercises. I haven't had any complaints. 



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