Monday, October 23, 2017

February 4, later




I’m not sure what I expected from my clan when it came to the idea of creating a donor-egg registry or my intentions to be the first to put her baby-starters up for adoption. One moment I thought it wouldn’t be a major deal. After all, Clan Dusa had turned away from an actual baby cooking in my oven. Why should my guys care the first thing about unfertilized eggs?

Then I would think about how I was a member of Seot’s clan. Did that infer that my reproductive bits and pieces should be their concern as well? Did it give them a say on what I did with those eggs that could conceivably be their children one fine day? Would it matter even though I potentially had hundreds of thousands of those eggs, more than enough to spare?

Maybe it would hurt Seot, Cifa and Larten’s feelings that I considered helping others get pregnant before giving our clan biological children. Or maybe they wouldn’t give a hot shit about any of this. There was no way of being sure before discussing the matter with them.

I decided to go with the theory that it wasn’t an earthshaking idea. I made no big matter out of it at dinner when I said in my most off-hand tone, “I’m considering talking with other Earther women about donating some of our eggs to Kalquorian Mataras. I believe it would be nice for clans who have had reproductive problems to have healthy daughters. Do you have any ideas on how I would start such a project?”

Seot froze in place, a strip of ronka halfway to his wide-open mouth. He stared at me in that pose for perhaps a full two seconds before putting the meat back on his tray. Cifa’s mouth opened and closed and opened and closed, reminding me of a fish out of water. Okay, it might be a serious thing after all, except for Larten’s reaction. He only seemed confused about the matter.

“Eggs?” he said.

“Yeah, you know, the basic baby-building blocks in us gals. Your sperm fertilizes it, turns on the switch that cranks up the whole reproduction thing, causes children to happen?” I couldn’t believe I had to explain Procreation 101 to the big lug.

“Oh. For some reason, I was thinking you wanted to donate swala eggs to people.” He laughed at himself. “Human eggs make a lot more sense.”

Seot and Cifa had recovered by then. “There isn’t anything similar to that in place yet?” my Imdiko wondered.

“Not that I’ve heard,” Seot said. “Although it’s not an issue this clan has to worry about, so what would I know?”

“Dr. Cafir and I were discussing it in therapy today,” I said. “We’re guessing the Earther female possessiveness over our potential children might be an issue. Kalquorian women feeling bad they can’t do it on their own could play a part too. With those two problems, that kind of program hasn’t been able to gain solid footing yet.”

I explained to the guys what we had talked about and how I felt the barriers we’d considered could be surmounted. “But I don’t have the first idea about the legal or medical stuff. I don’t know what stands in the way of making something like this happen.”

“I’ll talk to my law staff at work,” Seot promised. “They can point you in the right direction as far as that’s concerned.”

“My mother would be able to find fertility and reproductive specialists who could give you the medical end of the project,” Cifa added with a grin. “She wasted no time researching those as soon as Ila hit puberty. Then she started putting together names again when Ila was clanned, a fact she reminds her and Bazi of at every opportunity.”

“That poor woman is determined to be a grandmother a dozen times over,” I laughed. “And your sister and sister-in-law are in no hurry to grant her wish.”

Cifa snickered. “They’re young and deserve to have their fun first.” He sobered then. “Plus it’s desperately frightening to think they potentially have the same problems Matara Hina and so many other women have.”

I considered my bright and happy in-laws dealing with the emotional pain that had brought Hina to such an awful place. No, I didn’t blame them for waiting as long as they could before facing the uncertainty that would come from any pregnancy.

“What about Matara Hina?” Seot asked me.

“She wasn’t there today. It was my personal therapy,” I said.

“I know. I wondered if you were considering donating some of your eggs to her.”

I looked at him in surprise. Yet it made sense that such an idea should have been on my radar. Wasn’t she the person who’d inspired the idea? Wasn’t it her pain that I kept responding to, her particular loss?

“Would she be allowed to have a child?” I wondered. “What with her having a kind of breakdown and all.”

“Maybe not at this time. Sooner or later, however, she should make a full recovery if she continues to use the resources given her. At least one hopes she will. What then?”

“It would be a goal for her to strive for,” I said, turning the idea over in my mind. “An incentive to be as emotionally healthy as possible. Her psychologist would be the person to ask if it might be a worthwhile idea.”

It was a heady thing, to think I could offer Hina hope for the one thing she wanted most, the one thing she didn’t believe she could have. I wanted it for her too. I wished for it with all my heart.

“None of you mind me giving away my eggs so that Kalquorian women can have children?” I asked.

“They’re yours. It’s your body. Why should we mind?” Cifa asked. He gave me the adorable-Imdiko look, the expression he uses when he wants something. “You’ll save three or four for your clan though, right?”

I laughed. “I’ll give you a house full of rugrats, if you want. We’ll keep your mom happy and let Ila and Bazi off the hook for a little while.”

Contingent on Dr. Conyod’s approval, it could be that I’ll be giving Hina a daughter of her own after all.

Thursday, October 19, 2017

February 4, early



I have a cause. An honest-to-goodness campaign to make life better for those who need the kind of help I might be able to provide.

It all started with my therapy appointment today. This was my personal session, not one with Hina. Dr. Cafir asked me the usual questions about how I was doing with my abandonment issues, what triggers had made me feel insecure with my clan, that sort of thing. Things are not going badly on that front. I have my moments, but I’m learning to recognize when an instance of temper or sadness is a result of worry. Seot, Larten, and Cifa are beyond patient with me. It may not be perfect, but I’m getting there. I really sense I am.

I guess Dr. Cafir believes so too. After we discussed a few new coping skills to try, she asked me, “What’s in the overall picture for you, Shalia? What do you hope to accomplish beyond being a clanmate, a mother, and head of a department in a large, successful business? What’s next for you to strive for?”

I considered. “I’m not sure. I hadn’t really thought of anything beyond my work, my clan, and Anrel. It seems like that would be more than enough to keep me occupied for a while.”

“In the short term, perhaps. In the end, most people’s satisfaction stems from a larger worldview, a quality that comes from outside family and work. What can you see yourself doing to turn Kalquor into a better place for you and your family to live in?”

“Wow, you dream big,” I laughed, wondering if she was pulling my leg. What in the hell could I possibly do to make some sort of difference on such a large scale? I’m no scientist working on medical cures or a philosopher with an incredible truth to share with anyone. I’m Shalia Monroe, a great monstrous mess of a woman.

I had an idea. “I’m helping my best friend with her attempt to convince the Empire to redefine the legal definition of a clan.” I briefly explained Candy’s cause.

“That’s nice of you to assist your friend. But it’s not your cause, is it? Outside of wanting to help Matara Candy, it’s not a project you’re really invested in. Or am I wrong?”

She wasn’t. I could understand Candy’s point of view and I certainly thought her relationship with Stidmun deserved legal standing when it came to property and all that recognition stuff. But no, it wasn’t near and dear to my heart. If not for Candy, I wouldn’t think twice about the matter. It doesn’t resonate with me in a truly meaningful way.

“Outside of your clan and Anrel, what sparks the most emotion for you these days?” Dr. Cafir prodded me. “Don’t think about it; just answer.”

“Matara Hina.”

“There you go.” She smiled at me as if I’d done something particularly clever. “What about Hina’s situation resonates with you most?”

“That her daughters died. That she probably can’t give birth to a living girl.” My heart throbbed in painful sympathy.

“Is there no hope for her?”

“How can there be?” I scowled, not liking that we were on such a hurtful subject.

“What kind of support existed on Earth for women who couldn’t have children?”

“There were fertility procedures. Donated sperm and eggs. Nothing that would help Kalquorian females, not when all of you have that issue with your chromosomes. You’d have to get creative, such as use Earther DNA, like the eggs—” I stopped. I stared.

“Now that’s an interesting idea,” Cafir said in her soft voice. “Our doctors have looked into it and it’s feasible for us to be impregnated with fertilized Earther eggs. However, few of us Kalquorian women have become acquainted with you Earthers. We can’t very well walk up to random women and ask you to donate to us.”

“There should be a registry,” I said.

“A registry?”

“A list of Earther females willing to donate their eggs to Kalquorians who want children. It could be anonymous, even. Would it be hard to put something of that nature into place?”

“I don’t know. Perhaps someone motivated to see such a thing happen should check into the matter. Maybe spearhead a campaign to start it.” A corner of her lips lifted.

“I could even get it rolling by donating some of mine.” I was excited by the idea. Women in the same boat as Hina could have daughters. I could help make it happen.

“You’ll want to discuss the matter with your clan,” Cafir advised me. “This is not a small decision, Shalia. Harvesting eggs is easy enough from a medical standpoint. Understanding there are children out there that might have been yours is a bigger deal. Earthers are rather territorial when it comes to their biological children, aren’t they?”

“Mothers, mostly,” I confirmed. I thought of my father, who in the end hadn’t given a rat’s ass about me. I also thought of my once-rabid need to figure out who Anrel’s natural father was. I was still curious about that, but it wasn’t as desperate an urge as it had once been. Seot, Cifa, and Larten worked hard to be the perfect daddies for her.

“That possessiveness may be why donation hasn’t been widely embraced by the Earther women who have come here,” Cafir said. “Also, many Kalquorian females worry about being little more than incubators for the children they would bear for their clans. Children they do not share genetics with.”

I could see what she meant. “On Earth, some DNA from the mother-to-be was inserted in an embryo produced from a donated egg,” I said. “Surely something similar could be done here.”

“Again, that would be a project for someone interested in helping Kalquorian women to check into. What do you think, Shalia? Is it a cause you could take up?”

My mind was already flying through the possibilities. I imagined Hina pregnant with a daughter and knowing this time she wouldn’t be faced with heartbreaking loss. That image alone decided me.

“I’ll talk to my clan tonight,” I said.

Monday, October 16, 2017

January 30, part 2



I cleaned off the surface of my desk with most unladylike haste. Cifa maintained a stern expression, but I swear I saw amusement in his eyes.

To hell with pride and decorum. I love what I love. I’m not the kind of gal to waste time grabbing it.

I kicked off my slip-on shoes. He opened my desk drawers and rummaged. In the one where I keep a few toiletry items, he fished out my brush. Oh. Ouch. Yay.

“This will do a decent job, I believe,” he said. “You may bend over for your spanking.”

I did so, shivering with anxious anticipation. Being with Cifa in the middle of the workday is a perk I’d looked forward to enjoying, especially since Candy can take Anrel off my hands every now and again. Benefits. I’m all about the benefits.

Cifa placed the brush on the desk in front of my face, freeing both hands to raise my skirt with slow care, pulling it up and over my waist. I peeked to see him smiling with pleasure at my silk-covered backend. That thin barrier soon drifted down to my ankles, leaving me exposed for view and punishment.

He started by gripping my buttocks in his strong hands, rubbing and kneading them in preparation for more extreme measures. Though I knew pain was coming, possibly a great deal of it, I couldn’t help but relax under his ministrations. Is it weird that I enjoy a lovely ass massage? Considering all the other things I’m into, it’s probably not so strange. It might be one of my lesser odd leanings.

It was lovely enough that I ended up a limp little puddle on the surface of my desk. When Cifa left off and picked the brush up, I didn’t budge. Ditto for when his hand settled between my shoulders, pinning me down. I was all contentment, my head drifting in clouds of pleasure. Ass massages. All women should have them, at least once a day.

Then the brush thudded against my butt cheek, and all the soft, dreamy serenity vanished. Good night, didn’t it hurt! I’d only started my first yelp when the other cheek got an identical wallop.

Okay, maybe not a wallop. Cifa didn’t beat me black and blue, or anything awful like that. But honey, I felt that damned brush. I felt it and then some.

One cheek and then the next, he paddled my ass. All of it. That man did not miss an inch of my poor, defenseless rump. I howled, kicking air and pounding the desk as he wore me out. It was as thorough a spanking as if I’d done something to deserve it.

I wasn’t consciously trying to escape the discipline. I’d invited it. I wanted it, even with my ass burning as if it had caught on fire. But Cifa had to hold me down to force me to take it, because the instinct to run away had overloaded my need to surrender to my Imdiko.

Yet instinct knows when its beaten, however. At last I lay with only my butt jerking in reaction as the brush rose and fell, rose and fell, putting me in my place. Reminding me who was in charge. Who I lived to please. I sobbed softly as Cifa corrected me in advance of my next transgression.

The best part happened, the part where my mind drifted off. Once again, it was easy with tranquility, not at all interested in what happened to my body. My rear smarted and raged as it was delivered its punishment, but I experienced a euphoric calm, fed by the endorphins that had risen.

The steady thwacks of the brush against my ass stopped. In its wake, all I heard were my own soft moans and Cifa’s quick breathing. He tossed the brush to clatter on my desktop and rubbed my ass again, making the delicious pain sink deep into my flesh.

“Are you my good girl, Shalia?” he asked, massaging hard.

“Always,” I sighed.

He slid his fingers against my cunt and found me soaking wet. My pussy clenched to feel his touch there. “You are a good girl,” he grunted, spreading my honey up to coat my rear entrance as well. “I’m going to fuck my good girl now.”

“Thank you,” I whispered. I stepped out of the leg of my panties so I could spread my legs for him.

“That’s right. Open up for your Imdiko.” There was the familiar sound of his crotch seam pulling open, freeing his cocks. I shivered, anticipating them shoving inside me.

Yet Cifa took his time, entering slowly, as if to make up for the spanking. His main cock dipped into my rear entrance and then retreated. Re-entered, and drove a smidgeon further in. Pulled back so the tip of him barely remained inside. Slipped forward once more, allowing his smaller prick to tease my pussy.

Back and forth, joining us a bit more with each gentle surge. His hands gripped my hips, holding me for the slow invasion. I imagined him watching as he forged within my accepting body, the way he enjoyed it when we were together.

“Such a nice, tight ass. Excellent, wet, warm pussy,” he sighed as he took me. “You make me glad to be a man, my Matara.”

I’m pretty damned happy he’s a man too. It is astounding when he’s inside me.

When he was in as far as he could go, he paused, his groin shoved up tight against my aching ass. I didn’t try to move away. I wanted the bit of hurt that reminded me of how I’d surrendered to his strength. It melded so well with the delicious sensation of being filled with him.

He lay over me, his weight pinning me fast to the desk. He reached beneath, his fingers searching out and finding my clit. He played with it, rubbing and stroking so that I clenched firmly around his shafts. I jerked as harsh jolts of pleasure barreled from his touch into the pit of my stomach, but I had nowhere to go.

“Sweet little clit,” he murmured in my ear as he continued to tease the sensitive nub. “I adore how you squeeze my cocks when I touch it.”

He began fucking me slowly, keeping his body resting on mine, continuing to rub my throbbing nub. Within seconds I was gasping, my toes dancing up and down on the floor. The illusion of helplessness is a major turn-on for me. One doesn’t feel more helpless than when she’s pinned by more than two hundred pounds of muscled male.

“That’s my girl,” he whispered, his voice husky. “Show me how much you like it when I fuck you and you can’t do anything about it. That’s it. Moan for me. Take it.”

His pace continued to be slow, but he shoved inside with growing power. He pulled and pinched my clit with more force, forcing rapture on me. I slapped the top of the desk, unable to resist the growing tide of desire. My insides turned twisty as excitement built.

“My Matara loves being fucked. She needs to come for me.”

I did need it. All that ecstasy was coalescing into a bright point of light and sensation, readying to tear loose and consume the whole of me. I whined, beyond words, a desperate pleading sound.

“Almost there? Good. Let it go, pretty Shalia. Come for your Imdiko. Come hard.”

I was on the verge. His thrusts were brutal against that magic spot inside my pussy, and his ceaseless toying with my clit made my tightly wound insides fray under the pressure.

“No escape. You have to come for me now. You have no choice.”

Maybe it was the words, snarled right in my ear. Or maybe my body simply gave up whatever resistance it had held onto. I came undone. Pleasure billowed all at once, igniting my whole body. I swear, it felt as if even my eyeballs climaxed. I screamed in rapture. Pulses rumbled through me in lesser but still shocking quakes that had me kicking the air.

Having forced me into orgasm, Cifa’s cocks pounded me fast as he chased down his own gratification. The quick friction within kept me spasming with unchecked glory. I had no choice but to continue climaxing as he had me, his animal growls signaling the loss of control. He shoved. He pushed. He thrust with growing desperation until at last his whole body jerked. Then he emitted a long, drawn-out groan as his cocks jolted within me. He came as hard as I had. His shafts lurched as they spent their passion.

Fringe benefits. I highly recommend them.