“I don’t want a pause,” I pouted. “I should be the one giving her all her feedings and bathing her.”
I felt guilty about not nursing Anrel, but the poison had only just left my body. Even if I hadn’t been a toxin warehouse for all those days, the early birth and the ravages I had gone through meant I had no milk to give to Anrel. Tep had been wise to secure formula back on Earth in the event something would happen to prevent me from breastfeeding. I’d been both chagrined and amused to discover that he had made an extensive checklist of emergency supplies the moment he’d learned he had a pregnant woman coming on the ship. Grateful, too. Who would have ever thought any of this would happen to me and my child?
Oses leaned on the edge of my bed and reached to brush my hair from my face. “I can’t imagine how hard this is for you. Yet I hope you are thankful to have all the support you do.”
I was embarrassed by his reminder that in the end, I had nothing to be grouchy over. “You’re right. Candy, Anrel, and I are all going to be okay. People are coming out of the woodwork to make sure of that. I have you two watching over us. I have no reason to be selfish.”
Betra winked at me from the opposite side. “Except that you want your baby when you want her, which is all the time. Nothing is going to change that, but I think it’s a good thing.”
I snuggled in the soft mattress, trying not to hate it or my debilitation that wasn’t getting better fast enough to suit impatient me. “I’m a mom, but I’m missing out on so much of it right now. Each visit when I see Anrel, I swear she’s a touch longer, a bit heavier. A little more aware. I should be there for every second she grows.”
“She’ll know that you are her mother and what she means to you,” Oses promised.
He stretched over to kiss me. It started off as a light pressure, as chaste as a brother with his sister. There had been many kisses of that nature since I woke up from the nightmare of the It.
However, the tone of his embrace changed. The tip of his tongue lightly traced between my lips, tickling in a delicious way. I remembered the last sexual encounter we had, how I’d been held helpless by stasis. My poor wrecked body didn’t require help to re-enact that vulnerability without the field.
I had the strength to wrap my arms around his neck and cling in the hopes he wouldn’t stop. The Nobek’s big arms circled around me, holding me close. My lips parted, and his tongue swept in. Our breath mingled as we tasted each other. It was like receiving the air of life itself. I filled with the promise of returning vitality.
Fingers sketched up my thighs, pushing my Medical-issued gown up. More warm breath wafted over my skin before Betra sprinkled kisses of his own up my legs. I had plenty of doubts that Tep would approve of getting amorous given my state, but Tep could pout if he found out. I sure as hell wasn’t going to tell him. Not with my pussy warming in anticipation of the Imdiko closing in on it.
Betra parted my legs with care, as if opening a long-awaited gift in a manner that would prolong the anticipation. Oses palmed my breast. I found the strength to arch a little into his touch. He kneaded eager flesh, sending warm pleasure to suffuse me.
Betra kissed my slit, the buss as chaste as a nun’s. Another caress. Then, as Oses had done, the Imdiko took a careful taste, as if to tease my pussy to open. I felt wetness slide from me, and that glorious contact lost all hesitation, lapping eagerly.
I moaned into Oses’s mouth. The hand on my breast squeezed and his tongue slid against mine in a dance of excitement.
Betra traced long licks over my trembling womanhood, building tension there. His mouth played over my clit, sending darts of heat deep inside me. I clenched my fists in Oses’s hair as desire heightened. My feet dug shallow furrows into the mattress beneath me as I reacted to the intensifying burn.
Oses pinched one nipple and the other through my gown, adding jolts of electrifying pain. He tugged on the tightening points. His demanding touch amplified the pleasure melting my core. I tore my mouth from his to gasp, “More,” before he took me with that mind-stealing kiss once again.
I got what I asked for. The cruelty of the Nobek’s pincer-grasp fed the maelstrom of sensation building in my gut. I was overcome, punished and pleasured, until there was nothing but me and those two men.
Betra’s mouth plastered over my pussy, sucking against the folds to seal us together. His tongue whipped over my trapped clit, berating it back and forth against the raspy surface. I cried out, my wail muffled by Oses. Sheer bliss shot through me.
Betra growled. The powerful sound vibrated against my nub even faster. My pussy seized, brightness growing and glowing. It arced higher...higher...higher...
I’d reached the summit. I gathered all that blinding brilliance and leaped.
I soared on pulses of vivid pleasure, flying through golden-basked nirvana. The heavens opened for me. I flew and flew, forgetting the ground beneath me, denying gravity for eternity-filled seconds. Even when it was done, I floated like a cloud in peaceful completion. The storms were over, chased away by the men who gathered close to hold me in sheltering arms.
Life is precious. The people who fill mine are more precious still.
SHALIA’S DIARY
BOOK 7
A Clans of Kalquor Story
By
Tracy St. John
© copyright December 2015, Tracy St. John
Cover art by Erin Dameron-Hill, © copyright March 2016
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s
imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or
events is merely coincidence.
Smashwords Edition
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July 10
It’s been a few days since I last recorded anything. My free time is filled up with Anrel. I want every single moment I can have with my little girl, especially since we came so close to not having anything. Tep has to chase me out of Isolation to rest. I’m still recovering from the It’s takeover and being poisoned to flush it out.
My Anrel is hanging in there. She’s got a long way to go before her tiny body can venture out of Isolation. Her organs, though developed ahead of schedule, are not strong enough by far. But my pint-sized fighter is determined to stick around, and for that I am profoundly grateful.
I was recording a message to Clan Seot this morning. I looked like hell, but I wanted to show Anrel off to her prospective fathers. Betra walked in, interrupting me.
I smiled up at the Imdiko and paused my recording. “Look who it is, small fry,” I cooed to Anrel who was kicking her adorable feet in weak slow motion. “Uncle Betra is here to visit his precious niece.”
“Actually, Tep sent me in here to make you leave for a short while,” Betra corrected. Yet he wasted not an instant in bending over me and Anrel to fuss over her. He stroked her head, her arms, her legs. “Hello, sweetling. Hello, little heart. Just look at that pretty girl.”
Anrel paid no attention, as usual. She’d discovered for the hundredth time that day how tasty her fist is. All her attention was centered on stuffing it in her mouth. Betra and I said ridiculously gooey things in voices pitched high. I’m sure we looked like idiots ... especially my liaison, since he’s well over six feet tall and made of deliciously sculpted muscle. Watching such a behemoth cooing and making silly faces is its own brand of sweet and goofy.
My level of admittedly shaky maturity asserted itself. “I just want to finish recording a message to Clan Seot. They should see this adorable baby. I’m dying for their reaction to her.”
Anrel is bare
ly big enough to fill a Kalquorian’s hands. I wanted to know how my suitors will respond to such a tiny, vulnerable being. She continues to wear a sensor vest that can be hooked up to feed her intravenously with medications and nutrition. Will Clan Seot be horrified? Or will their hearts melt? It’s important for me to discover how they respond to a helpless child.
I also want to do the same with my second batch of suitors, Clan Aslada. If I’m to trust any men to be fathers to my child, they have to demonstrate they deserve her. That they can care for and protect her. Heaven knows with my track record, she’ll need strong people close by. I wish I was stronger myself. Some days I feel as weak as Anrel. It’s pathetic.
Betra surprised me by saying, “Don’t record the message. There is a better option on its way.”
“Better option? Such as?”
“Such as speaking to your suitors in real time.” He grinned. “The ship will be in range of mini-portals in less than a week.”
“I can talk to Kalquor?” I gasped. “I can talk to the clans face-to-face for real?”
The news couldn’t have made me happier. I knew about miniature wormholes, bridges through space much too small for spacecraft to use. Yet they were perfect for instant communication, if you had someone on the other end of the portal who you wanted to talk to.
Betra had more news. “There are two portals, Shalia. One will allow instantaneous transmissions to Kalquor. The other goes to the rim of Earth’s solar system. There is a relay station out there, which will bounce our signal to your old home world. The delay is only a few seconds if you wish to contact your dads.”
I gave a squeal of childish delight. Anrel’s face screwed up at the high-pitched sound, as if she thought about crying. I immediately covered her in light butterfly kisses to make up for startling her. She chirruped, yawned, and resumed sucking her fist.
Once she was settled again, I asked, “How long will we be in range?”
“Three days. That should allow you to have decent conversations with your candidates and fathers.”
“Erase recording,” I told my handheld. “I definitely want to talk to all of them in real time.”
Tep’s lithe frame stepped into the room. The ship’s head doctor eyed Betra severely. “I asked you to take Shalia out of here. She needs a break.”
“I was working on that.” My liaison scooped Anrel out of my lap, her usual spot when I sit with her. I’m regaining my strength, but my arms go shaky after a few minutes of cradling her.
“Bye, sweet baby,” I said, sad as always when we are forced to part. Her eyes were closing in readiness to nap.
Tep came close to squeeze my shoulder. “Katrina is here to sit with her. She’s busy flirting with Dr. Ret at the moment.”
That made some of the gloom disappear. Dr. Ret is Captain Wotref’s Imdiko. Katrina has been carrying on with their clan for a few weeks now. I’m beginning to suspect it’s serious.
Betra settled Anrel in her tiny incubator that had been rigged for her. Similar to the full-sized medi-beds, it generates its own heat and is computerized for any treatments Anrel might need. Nothing is left to chance with my baby girl.
I know she is safe and receiving the best possible care. It doesn’t stop me from feeling as if I’m abandoning her when my hover chair is floated out of Isolation. I can’t wait for the day when Anrel is strong enough for me to bring her to my quarters and keep at my side nonstop.
July 10
Betra guided me to my quarters in the hover chair allotted to me until I’m stronger. I walk a little farther every day along with performing physical therapy, but it’s an easy thing to wipe me out. The poisoning took a hell of a toll on me. Plus my therapist is a sadistic shit named Dramok Resan. Okay, okay, I know he’s just doing his job. Still, there is something about that man that scrapes my nerves raw. Sometimes I think he enjoys putting me through the wringer. I believe he pushes me harder than is necessary.
At any rate, I tire fast. Anrel isn’t the only gal with a ways to go when it comes to being healthy.
It didn’t take us long to reach my rooms in the Matara section of the ship. I was greeted with smiles and inquiries about Anrel from my fellow travelers, Earther and Kalquorian alike. It’s nice to be cared about by so many.
Betra guided me into my sitting room. “Here or the sleeping room?”
“Here is fine. Despite Tep’s worries, I’m not that tired. No P.T. today, so I’ve got some strength. That vampire Resan didn’t get the chance to steal my life force.”
Betra chuckled and watched me as I stood and walked to the lounger. “Resan’s doing something right. It was only days ago that you would have to nap after an hour with Anrel.”
I sat down and mused. “You’re right. I’m recovering faster than I thought.”
“Don’t rush it,” the Imdiko warned. “You have to take it easy.”
I looked him over, appreciating his gorgeous physique. “I can’t wait to be cleared for sex. I’m not that religious, but it’s a sin to have you running around and not enjoy every inch of that body.”
That brought out Betra’s goofiest grin. “You like it?” He ran his palms up his thighs, over his abdomen, ending with that chiseled chest that his armored formsuit can’t quite disguise. Then they traveled down again.
“Gimme,” I begged, reaching for him. “Stop being such a tease.”
He stayed out of reach, but swiveled to display that pert, round ass of his. He cupped his buttocks, accentuating their perfection. “Tease? Not me.”
“You’re a meanie. I’m telling Oses. He’ll teach you a lesson.”
Betra turned again. His expression was a cross between anxiety and anticipation. Oses has his number in a lot of ways. I could tell Betra was weighing the pros and cons of being tattled on to the big weapons commander.
His grin was saucy again. “Shalia, don’t you enjoy being teased?”
He tugged the collar of the formsuit, slowly opening it down the re-sealable seam that ran from the collar to his groin. I bit my lip as a hint of that wide chest came into view.
“You are so going to get it,” I warned him, licking my lips as a triangle of fabric opened up to display more coffee-with-cream colored flesh. Mentally, I urged him on. Even if I couldn’t have sex, I wasn’t averse to the strip show.
“Yeah? What is it you’re giving me?” Betra pulled the top of the formsuit wide, displaying his shoulders. Gorgeous, strong shoulders. I heard a tiny groan spill from my throat.
“Bastard,” I whispered. I didn’t tell him to stop.
The Imdiko peeled free of the uniform’s long sleeves. Veined biceps joined the muscled shoulders to delight my gaze. I thought of all the times he’d held me. I shivered.
Betra saw. He damned near gloated over the effect he was having on me. “Poor Shalia,” he whispered. “Ready men at her beck and call, and she can’t have them. Poor, poor girl.”
He pulled at the seam again, opening his formsuit to just below his navel. The ridges of his abdomen came into view. I could have humped the double row of eight hills for days on end. Betra was too magnificent.
“Oses will parade you up and down the ship naked,” I threatened him. “I’ll tell him to.”
Betra’s eyes widened. The bulge that had formed at his crotch grew bigger still. The Imdiko possesses a dominating personality, particularly when it comes to sex, but he also has a weakness for being humiliated. I think the differing drives confuse him as much as me.
“I have fun showing off,” he purred. “I can imagine how exciting it would be to be shown off.”
“On a leash,” I added, seeing the excitement growing in his expression, as well as parts south. “With a switch striping your ass as you’re walked.”
It was Betra’s turn to shiver. However, his smile only got more evil. “Do you mean this ass?”
He pushed the lower part of his uniform down. There it was, his perfect ass, more gorgeous than any master’s sculpture has ever been. I sighed as he rubbed his
palms up and down it, wishing it was me touching him.
“Keep going,” I urged.
He grinned at me over his shoulder. Then he bent over – hallelujah – to tug his boots off. His butt flexed in entrancing ways as he did so. He peeled his formsuit down, baring firm chiseled legs. I drank him in from head to heels. I couldn’t get enough.
The man is a bona fide work of art.
Betra pivoted slowly, drawing out the enjoyment of my appreciation. My poor wrecked body did its best to forget it was in no shape for wild abandon. I could feel my nipples drawing tight. My pussy was wet, salivating for more than it could have. I should have been mad at Betra for his cruel taunting, but instead, I drowned in delight. I figured, what the hell, I can always rub one out ... or better yet, ask him to do it for me.
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