Iri
Ten months later
Baby kicking is what wakes me. I’m surrounded by purrs. All at slightly different pitches. If I could purr in return, I would. It’s entirely far too comforting to have them everywhere. To feel the rumble in their chests and their body heat.
Daunt is behind me. My head rests on his folded arm. His other hand is on my stomach. In front of me is Luken. His hand lies over my stomach, too. Behind Luken is Rhydian, wrapped tightly. Rhydian’s hand is over Luken’s, his fingers pressed between Luken’s, resting on my bare stomach.
Hakan is where he always is. Lying between my legs with his head on Luken’s hip, his face pressed into my stomach. His arm is over my hips, hand gripping my ass cheek tightly. Even in his sleep.
It’s incredible to think that not long ago, we didn’t have this. We weren’t a pack. It was just me and Luken. It feels as though they’ve always been here. In some way, they’ve always existed in our love.
As a history teacher, I know what traits from our ancient ancestors carried over and which science says didn’t. That’s what I teach—historical and scientific facts.
There are things that were carried down the generations that maybe aren’t as widespread as what exists for everyone, though. Purring, for example. I think only a quarter of the breeder population and the rare breedable here and there can purr.
There’s an untested hypothesis that states if we looked hard enough and followed the genetics backward, we would see that the betas from long ago, whose family line transitioned into breeders, are the familial lines unable to purr.
To me, someone who is not a scientist, that makes sense.
But then again, maybe it’s just a muscle mutation not everyone has. Like being double-jointed.
I love their purrs. There’s nothing more comforting and calming than purring. It instantly soothes any nerves, calms my stress, and relaxes my muscles. They are simply the Zen-iest of Zen. I could lie here like this all day.
But baby is now pushing in a very uncomfortable way. If I don’t get up to pee soon, I’m going to wet the bed. He seems to like using my bladder as a pillow, pounding it into submission before snuggling up with it—as one does.
After taking a closer inventory of my need to pee, I decide I can spare another minute or two. I hate the idea of getting out of bed. I just want to stay here for the entire day, cuddled up with my pack. With their hands over our growing baby.
I’m not sure I made it a full two minutes before my bladder threatens mutiny if I don’t get up. Sighing, I say, “I need to pee.” It’s far whinier than it needs to be, but I’m feeling a little whiny since I don’t want to get up.
Hakan immediately sits up and disentangles himself from my legs. He offers me his hands, and I let him help me down the length of the bed and to my feet. He kisses my forehead, and when I turn, he gently grabs my ass.
It’s not just my ass he’s obsessed with. He loves all our asses. They get equal amounts of attention. I playfully roll my eyes, but there’s no hiding my smirk. I love it.
I do my business over the toilet and wait a minute while wiggling my hips, hopefully getting the last drips out.
Shimmy, shake, and dance. That doesn’t mean I won’t drip when I walk away.
I can’t even blame that on baby pressing against my bladder.
That’s just what happens when you have a damn dick.
To see my dick when it’s soft, and I’m not looking in the mirror, I have to truly contort my body.
I can see my cockhead readily enough if I’m hard, though.
That’s a confidence boost like little else.
Otherwise, my baby belly is completely in the way.
I can barely see my toes when I’m standing straight.
I stop at the sink to wash my hands, and my reflection catches my attention. With clean, wet hands, I place them on my stomach.
Sometimes I wonder if male breedable gestation is so long because we can’t stop marveling at a baby growing inside us. It takes a long time to wrap our heads around this amazing conception. I’m not calling it a miracle because it’s not. It’s science. Procreation is all biology.
What’s miraculous about it is that somewhere along the lines, evolution decided to move toward making all genders truly equal. Everyone can procreate. Everyone can conceive. Everyone has seed to spread.
I’ll admit that I’m not as up to date on how female breeders’ biology works.
That’s a whole different kind of fascination, but irrelevant for my life and those around me.
But the fact biology is expanding these roles to everyone is like nature giving a big fuck you to the ancients who thought one role in life was more important than another.
One made better leaders. One was stronger, more intelligent.
Biology said, ‘ Hold my genetic wand and let me show you how stupid you are by making you carry a fucking child, bitch, ’ and thus, male pregnancy began.
Okay, biology might not be so vulgar, but I stand by that.
A knock on the door makes me look up. Hakan pushes it open far enough to stick his head in, which doesn’t surprise me.
If I’m out of sight for more than a minute, tops, someone is looking for me to make sure I’m okay.
Especially now that I’ve reached a fully mature baby, and could go into labor at any minute. Any second.
I’m due any day now. I’m so damn excited, even if I’m also slightly terrified.
“Everything okay?” Hakan asks when he sees me standing in front of the mirror with my hands on my stomach.
I nod. “I’m going to miss being pregnant,” I confide. I’ve loved every single minute of it. Including all the knots I’ve taken. You know, to make sure baby has all the nutrients to grow big and strong.
Not that he’ll be big. A male breedable newborn is, on average, only four pounds. They’re tiny. Which seems counterintuitive since they incubate for so damn long. I think it has a lot to do with how they grow and the room they have to grow in.
Hakan wraps his arms around me, pressing his lips to my temple. “We will gladly keep you pregnant for the rest of your breedable years, sweetheart.”
I grin because I know that’s the truth. I’m pretty sure I’m all here for it, too. Is there a limit on how many kids I want? How many kids we want? It’s not something that’s come up, but I don’t think there is. We want all the babies. All of them.
Sighing, I lean into him and stare at our reflection in the mirror. There have been many times that I’ve stood just like this with one or multiple or all of my pack around me. Admiring us in real time.
Luken and I talked about having a pack a lot growing up, and even just before my breeding maturity hit. It was something we always wanted.
Society still thrives in packs. More love, more support for each other, and the offspring they bring into the world. There are the occasional two-some households, but they’re not nearly as prominent as packs. In fact, I’m not sure a single two-some exists in Alyra.
We don’t usually begin with one-on-one breeding partners. The idea of bringing more male breedables into the world means we need to create an environment that has the highest odds.
That being said, a breedable isn’t forced to have two or four or more lovers at once, either. If they prefer to begin with one, that wish is granted. We’re all about body autonomy. Especially in the family cities.
The dark underground is a different story.
“I’m so ready to meet our baby,” I say.
Hakan’s hand slides down to rest under my stomach and gently lifts my baby mass. I groan, my back relaxing as the weight of our little boy is lifted. I’m small enough that he can do so with a single hand. That doesn’t mean it’s not heavy on my spine.
“Soon, love,” Hakan says as he continues to hold my baby weight for a minute longer. I sigh heavily when he gently places the weight back down.
Okay, maybe I’m ready to lose the extra weight for a while. Just a short time.
“How about a bath?” Hakan asks. “Want me to wash your hair?”
I’ve always loved baths, but they’re definitely not as hot as I’d like them because it would boil our baby. Maybe not actually boil him, but I’m careful not to do anything that could hurt our unborn. Still, I love baths, and I especially love it when one of my breeders wants to bathe me.
“Yes, please.”
Hakan kisses the side of my head and guides me to the tub, where he begins filling it. The plug immediately keeps the cold water from washing down the drain, and that way, he can just turn the hot water on, and the cold already in the pipes dilutes the hot.
He waits until there’s enough warm water before helping me in. I sit with my legs folded under me and lean back against the side of the tub. I sit forward long enough for Hakan to wet my hair and then back again while he suds me.
His fingers against my scalp make me sigh. My eyes close as I relax into his touch.
“Hair’s getting long,” he says quietly. “You want to grow it out?”
I shake my head a bit. Not enough to disturb his ministrations, but enough to answer his question.
“We’ll head to your appointment this morning and then stop for a haircut on the way home.”
I smile, humming in pleasure.
The only sound is the gentle movement of the water and the slcksh sounds of his fingers moving through my sudsy hair. That is, until the moans of the rest of our pack filter in through the closed bathroom door. I grin.
Under normal circumstances… nah, I’d get hard under any circumstances when hearing my pack getting busy.
It’s even sexier watching. I thought being the one with a cock in his ass was the hottest thing in the world.
Not true. Watching any of them take it, seeing the pleasure coloring their faces and coming out in unfiltered sounds to fill the room? That is the sexiest thing in the world.
My dick thinks so, too. It’s getting hard as I listen to Daunt, Luken, and Rhydian fucking around. No one has been penetrated yet. I know that sound, having made it a lot in the last few years with Luken.
“You feel like being bred, love?” Hakan asks in a deep, growly voice.
The tone skitters down my spine and pools in my balls. “Yes.”
“Lean forward. Let’s get the soap out of your hair.”
I do as I’m told. Hakan doesn’t hurry. It’s not like there’s a deadline on when we can join them. He’s gentle and thorough as he rinses my hair. Then he pulls the plug and helps me to my feet.
As I climb over the side of the tub, baby gives a sudden lurch, and I gasp. My hands go to my stomach as terror rushes through me.
All four members of my pack turn silent. Hakan stares at me. I can feel the other three ‘ staring ’ within our bonds.
I try not to panic as baby moves. There’s something uncomfortable about this. Is something wrong?
“Hakan,” I whisper, fear making my voice shake.
But then the sensation of what can only be described as a water balloon popping rushes through me, and I feel I’m leaking everywhere.
With wide, horrified eyes, I meet Hakan’s grinning face.
“It’s time, Iri.” He wraps an extra-large towel around me and then scoops me up. “The boys are going to have to watch our son being born with fat knots.”
I laugh as he steps into the bedroom. Everyone is already scrambling off the bed and into whatever discarded clothes they can find.
It’s time. It’s time to meet our baby!