With terrified trembles and shivers of pleasure, Derrami wraps her arms around Tema's waist, as much as she can. Planting her face against that swell. How is it so swollen? She puts her lips to the suit and kisses. "Tema, is this real?"
"Of course it's real. You think I've got a big fruit under here?"
"Is it mine?"
"I bet you'd be ready to jerk your little cock and cum all over it even if it belonged to your worst enemy." Tema grabs either side of the doctor's head. "Yes, it's yours, you pathetic little worrywart. They're both female, three months in. Haven't picked names—"
"Two? You have two?"
"Yes, we have two. Also, I didn't tell you to stop kissing."
"Tema, I…" Derrami closes her eyes, swallowing, trying to ignore the footsteps around them. The talking. The public space. The showers are empty by now, and the crowd is dispersing, but not everyone. Not Tema. And plenty of people want to stay, to see what a two-stripe officer is doing in the middle of this isolated house of gardens.
What can she say?
"I want to feel your skin," she whispers.
"That's so much better," Tema purrs. Without so much as a snap of her fingers, the midsection of her uniform peels off, becoming an inside-out skirt. The top section remains to cover her breasts. Which, Derrami quickly notices, are larger than she remembers.
Giving into her perverse nature completely, she digs her tongue straight into the navel and licks upward. Tema's abdomen—once thick muscle, covered in a small layer of fat—is stretched. Her flesh still feels tight, but it's different now. Oh, Gods is it different. She never considered being a parent, but all at once she realizes that it was because she did not want the burden of position to interfere with the burden of family. She never could have given up her work. Her travels to remote and disgusting places. But now, the only disgusting place she wants to be is between Tema's ass cheeks.
No. That's not even fair to say. She presses her lips down and sucks on the flesh, kissing her way up and then around to one side, dragging her cheeks along it, smearing her face against Tema's—against her children. Her seed is in there. Her two girls are in there. Something they've both created. She worships in silent awe.
Derrami still wants to explore distant life. She still wants to collect bugs and crabs and sample algae and study contamination. But she knows…
She knows that Tema will take care of absolutely everything.
Tema is competence and authority and a bypass of all issues. If she does what Tema says, then there are no issues. She wants her so badly. To hold the leash. To hold her body. To hold her offspring inside her body. To mate. To procreate. To make a family. Derrami can have everything she wants if she just.
Obeys.
This.
Woman.
The suit peels down further. Derrami doesn't even dream of speaking while her dinner is in front of her.
She dives for it. She slides down the growing slope of that belly and kisses the familiar pubes.
She eats.
"Unbelievable." A voice hits her ears. It's Aagal's voice. Derrami ducks her head between Tema's legs like a baby sandgull.
"Did you say something, convict?" Tema snaps, keeping her hands over Derrami's head.
"No, Ma'am," the voice replies straight away.
"It sounded like you had something to say. Would you like to repeat it?"
"No, Ma'am."
"If you ever talk to Derrami like that again I am going to put you in a stockade and rape you. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
Tema digs her fingers through Derrami's hair. "Repeat back to me what I'll do to you if you talk down to my woman."
"...Put me in a stockade and rape me."
"Good. Keep walking."
The doctor simply cowers, and basks in the sensation of thighs against her cheeks, trying desperately not to cry.
"You know, Derra. Let's have it your way for once," Tema muses. "Shall we go somewhere more private?"
—
It still seems like a dream. To be escorted by her. Teased by her. Have her neck bitten as they flitter through the hallways and paths back to bed. It's too real to be a dream: but don't dreams seem less real after you wake up?
Tema pulls her white robe off.
"Am I yours again?"
"You're always mine." The overseer discards her uniform, pushing Derrami against a wall, humping against her with that thick bare belly between them. Both of them touch each other. Hands rubbing over bodies. Appreciating shapes that have been lost for however long it's really been.
"Please tell me what's happening."
"I already told you to stop thinking," Tema replies. Not angry, just authoritative. Taking stock of Derrami's figure. "You've gained some weight back. That's—"
"But I don't want to lose you!" She whines. Even now she doesn't know why. Shouldn't she be angry? Angry that this woman has returned from nowhere, demanding everything again? Angry for all the acts committed against her? Yet she clings to those gorgeous, strong shoulders. Their scars, by now, are not so rough. Smoothed by time and healing. Yet the grey patches stretch down over the top of Tema's swollen belly.
Imagine if I'd…
Been more accurate.
Made it stronger.
Ambushed her with it.
What if they'd already been growing?
"I'm the one with the stripes. I take care of those worries," Tema insists. "Your job is to bark when I tell you. Speaking of which: you remember how to kneel?"
The doctor slides down, smothering the larger woman with love along the way, until she reaches the floor, sitting on her knees and spreading her legs, opening her mouth, looking up. Tongue extended.
"Beautiful. Let's get you a reward right away." Tema leans forward with both hands against the wall for support, before lifting a foot and pressing it down on Derrami's twitching cock.
"Oh fuck," she rasps, before leaning in and diving between those legs again, this time without fear. Sliding her tongue against that slit, dragging it up, digging it in, sucking the fat swollen flesh as toes wrap over her shaft and drive her wild.
"Becoming Sintra negates a few of the issues with gestation. You know? A lot less nausea. But the hot flashes. The weight. And the hormones, they're still there," Tema explains even as her voice grows louder and shakier with the service provided between her legs. She leans her head against the wall, looking down at her prize. "For the past couple weeks, I've been having these dreams where we're in my office on the ship. I grow a cock and fuck you in the ass. Then somehow you're stuck in my stomach, trying to push your way out of me until I pop. I always wake up soaked."
Derrami doesn't reply except to lap obediently and moan loudly.
"They say there's psychology behind that stuff, but I'm not so sure." Tema laughs, taking her foot away so that the doctor doesn't cum too early. It's hard to tell how much of this is a joke, how much of this is genuine. She's acting strange… But not the same sort of strange as that fateful day when the two were pulled apart. This is different: a manic sort of strange. An explosive delight, a sort of fey mischief.
"You're so big already," Derrami gasps, drooling slick juices as she stares up in awe at the view-blocking stomach.
"I knew you'd enjoy it."
"I don't understand it."
"So much of life you've ignored, for such a long time…" She laughs again. "Get up, now. I want you to cum inside of me."
"Gods, yes."
"Majesty, you mean."
"I don't care about that, I just need you."
Tema hoists the little girl up by the shoulders with such force that Derrami fears she may have made a fatal overstep. The overseer scowls. But there is still a faint grin. "It's a start," she whispers.
Derrami is thrown back onto her bed. The Sintra-Avari's strength has not diminished. Not at all. She climbs on top of the bed like a stalking beast, but the doctor is not afraid. She doesn't run. She throbs. Her shaft fires a clear spurt of goo over her belly, her fingers tense and squeeze the sheets, clawing at them. This is really happening. She is really ready. "I need you," she says again. "I've been so fucking alone."
"Needed me to hold you down and milk you dry?"
"Yes."
Derrami's honesty only makes Tema move faster, sliding up over her legs, leaning forward and pressing her belly down onto the pale, thin form, as though she were trying to roll her lover flat. She scooches, rises, and presses down, pinning that little shaft between their bodies. "I'm going to keep you in range of my cunt for the rest of your life, so that I can drag every drop out of you."
"Fuck." Derrami's head falls back, limp. She shakes. "Tema I'm going to cum right now, you need to put it in."
And she does.
Has it always felt this good? It feels really good. Derrami feels really,
really good.
Tema glides down over her, heavy stomach bouncing against the doctor's body when reaching the bottom and slipping her all the way inside of her wet, hot depths. Then rising just an inch, and bouncing down again. So much weight to it. So much heft.
With her hands unbound, Derrami reaches out to hold onto the stomach. She can't stop thinking about it. She is utterly enchanted. She barely even processes the fact that she is cumming her brains out. She wants to—
Fuel her? Feed her. Nourish.
Her fingers, covered in sweat and musk, gently stroking down the firm flesh. Breathing. In sync? Perhaps, perhaps not. Bodies matched. Bodies made for each other. Or perhaps 'my body made for her'.
It's endless. The breathless doctor gives up everything she has, and after only minutes of having her limp shaft squeezed and squashed between the two pelvises, she's ready to go again. Tema, of course, never stopped being ready: grinding and whispering sweet nothings the entire time.
The sloppy wet space between them only grows as they go at it again. Pulsing pleasure destroys Derrami's mind. Like her whole body is firing up inside of her chosen one. The one she loves. The one she wants to give everything to.
It doesn't matter why.
Cum pouring out of her body, Tema drags herself forward when the second round is finished. She climbs slowly, leaving a trail of goop over Derrami's stomach before lifting her butt, spinning it, and wordlessly pressing herself down over the doctor's face with a smirk.
Derrami can't help but bite her lips in delirious joy as she watches the moon eclipse her vision. And finally, the hot, black, sopping wet cheeks are over her. Smothering her entirely. She sucks it dry, and swallows it all. She drinks it in, she licks it clean. She is an animal. Maybe less than an animal. And as the woman above her squeezes her breasts and plays with her body, all she can do is scream into her flesh for more.
It is a long morning. Breakfast is delivered at Tema's request. Then it's back to bed.
Face still sticky with love, Derrami lies on her side in utter exhaustion, forehead to forehead with Tema. Limbs intertwined, sheets draped above. Ruined. Effectively asleep.
There are unwanted thoughts. Shouldn't I hate her? Shouldn't I kill her? Why is she here now, why won't she tell me? They are like steel needles digging through her skull. She doesn't want to have those thoughts. She wants a moment of peace and quiet.
But how and why does Tema represent peace and quiet? Isn't this place, the 'House', the place of calm tranquility? Wasn't the Fifth Gaze, with Tema, chaos and fear?
It doesn't make any sense. It hurts to question it.
"I understand you're well on your way to citizenship." Tema's words are soft, but it's a wonder she has energy to talk. After all, she's the one doing most of the pushing.
"I don't understand anything," Derra sighs.
"Don't worry. Today, we're relaxing. And tomorrow? I'll take care of it all."