Chapter 4 – MRin
“M'Rin, sir, can you come to Carmen's quarters?”
“On my way,” I say, immediately putting down the report I'd been reading and heading out of my office. “What's happened?”
“I'm really not sure. She's in distress. I've checked her all over and can't find anything wrong. She's even responding to simple questions, but I can't work out what's happened!” His voice loses its veneer of calm.
“I'm almost there. Stay steady for her.”
H'Nue takes an audible breath. “Yes, sir.”
I hang up and don't bother to slow my steps until I am in Carmen's quarters. I pause to take in the scene. Carmen is on all fours, like usual, but her head is hanging low and she is staring at the floor in front of her hands. H'Nue is similarly positioned beside her, his side touching hers and his nose touching the back of her head. She isn't rejecting his touch, but she isn't reacting to it either. Just kneeling there with tears streaming down her face.
H'Nue looks up hopefully when he hears me approach. His sympathetic distress is plain to see, and confirms why he is such a valued employee.
I move to Carmen's other side and mirror H'Nue's position.
“I'm here, sweetheart,” I murmur, projecting confidence that my presence will make a difference. I don't actually feel any of that confidence, since I have a suspicion about the source of Carmen's distress, and there is nothing I can do about it.
Carmen leans into my side and H'Nue shoots me a relieved look.
We stay in that position for a while, and I try not to get distracted by the way Carmen's curves mould to my harder form. I try to will away all thoughts of hardness, but that becomes impossible when Carmen tucks her arm behind and under mine, nestling slightly under me, then presses her cheek into my shoulder.
This triggers instincts that no amount of willpower can combat, and I'm just happy that she can't see my body's untimely reaction.
“Is it memories from before?” I ask at last, needing confirmation.
She gives a short nod and presses harder against me.
My arousal deflates at the reminder of her distress, and from the corner of my eye, I see H'Nue frowning with self-recrimination.
“You weren't to know, H'Nue. Your first instinct to check for physical harm was absolutely correct, as was your second to call me.” I turn my head enough to meet his eyes, careful not to dislodge Carmen. “The past of first generation hus is deliberately withheld to allow them a fresh start here. Most of the time, that isn't a problem, especially since it's rare for a hu to retain cognition. Those that do, have time to process their reasons for coming to Bovaria before they get to this stage. However, I suspect for Carmen, it has been a very abrupt resumption of grief after a couple of weeks of blessed nothingness.” She nods into my shoulder again. “And that will have been sudden and shocking. But it will get better,” I say the last to Carmen, nuzzling the top of her head. “It hurts, but it will get better.” She presses harder into me, not seeming keen to have to deal with her memories. If I were in her position, I'd probably feel the same.
“And if you need me, perhaps you can give H'Nue a double tap”–there's a hitch in her body and a slight huff–“and he will know to fetch me.”
H'Nue hums a confirmation and Carmen nods against me once more.
“Okay.” I allow myself a small sigh, relieved to be able to help Carmen in some way.
“H'Nue needs to go”–she presses harder into my side–“but I can stay for a bit longer, is that okay?”
Another nod. Damn, but communicating with her is so addictive, even in this limited way.
“Thank you,” I murmur to H'Nue, and try to silently convey that I want to talk to him later.
He nods and strokes Carmen's side in farewell. “I'll see you soon, Carmen.”
She nods again, and H'Nue's pleasure that she is responding to him again is visible.
I hold my position, and Carmen gradually relaxes. Not pressing so hard; just keeping contact. When that contact starts peeling away, I swear I can almost see the blankness descending on her again.
I'm happy she'll have some relief from what seem to be torturous memories, but I can't help feeling a sense of loss as she mentally retreats. Then she physically retreats, too; just up and walks away on all fours as her attention wanders to her food bowl and it occurs to her that she hasn't had breakfast yet.
After checking that she has everything she needs, I leave to find H'Nue.
“Is she okay now?” he asks when I find him tending Erika, another hucow. He brushes her firmly, and I can see her leaning into each stroke.
“Seems to be. She's gone under now, but when she returns it might be a bit overwhelming again.”
“I'll keep an eye and ear out for her.”
“Thank you. How many times has she become alert? I know of two instances.”
“Just one more–I think–the day before I called you, although I'm not sure.”
“So for the last three days. Would you agree that the periods of lucidity are getting longer?”
“Yes.” He pauses his brushing and glances up at me. “Something pretty bad must have happened to her.” His face twists. “I've never really given much thought to their pasts.”
“Don't beat yourself up over it. Those pasts are concealed from us on purpose. And–with all due respect–except for a rare lucid case, are all but irrelevant to us too.”
“How do we help her? I haven't met any other lucid hus, assuming that's what she really is, so I don't know how to treat her.”
“You treat every hu with the utmost respect, so just keep doing that. Additionally, we'll provide the comfort of our presence and touch when she needs it. If she regains speech, we can listen if she wants to talk. It's a pity that the translator doesn't work with the written word,” I muse, then continue, “otherwise, we continue to follow the transformation routine. Regardless of what happened in her past, she chose to become a hucow, and we will honour that choice.”
H'Nue nods, then responds to Erika's increasingly insistent nudges and quiet entreaties by resuming his brushing.
“Speaking of her transformation,” I continue, “she'll need a tail very soon. She really is progressing far faster than usual.”
“I did notice that, I was going to insert her tail plug after grooming today. Should I wait?”
“No, but keep an eye on her during the next lucid period.” I really hope there will be another one, a longer one, and then another and another, until she is always cognisant. “I wouldn't want her getting distressed and pulling at it.”
“Of course. I assume you'll be providing another semen measure soon?”
I frown, thrown by the apparent change in topic. “I thought the long term storage wasn't affected by the incident the other week?”
H'Nue looks taken aback. “Umm, no, just the current use. But we are running short of fresh doses, and you know we prefer fresh over frozen when possible. I only have two days' worth right now, and there'll be less than that after I dose Carmen today.”
“What?”
“It's policy to have more than two days' worth at any point in time–”
“I know the policy. I wrote it,” I snap, immediately regretting my abruptness, but unable to help myself. “Why is Carmen being dosed with my semen?”
H'Nue pales, and I wrestle my attitude back under control. I strongly suspect this is someone else's doing, and it's not fair or right to take it out on him.
“It's written up on her transformation sheet.”
“And it's signed off?”
“Y-yes.”
“Whose signature?”
“I'm not sure.” His voice is getting quieter.
I force in a deep breath and blow it out. “I'll check.”
“I-it wouldn't be ideal to change donor at this stage,” H'Nue reminds me, risking my ire to ensure optimal care for Carmen.
“I know. I'll provide a new measure. I'm sure this has nothing to do with you, I'm sorry.”
H'Nue shakes his head, brushing off my apology. “I just want what's best for our hus.”
“I know, and I appreciate that.” I touch my nose to his in apology before I leave.
I head directly to the biological storage area and use the computer there to check the signature on Carmen's transformation record. M'Rinna's, as I had suspected. Damn her meddling.
Disappointment slides through me. Now I don't know if Carmen's solace in my presence is just biology. My heart aches. I'd been starting to believe there had been something more between us, and with her increasing lucidity...
This conundrum is why I've been so careful with my semen. Other than fulfilling my government regulated breeding session responsibilities, I have not allowed my semen to be used on a hucow. It creates a bond, and I sentimentally want to save that for just one female. More importantly, I'd wanted to form a relationship without its influence.
M'Rinna and I might be twins, but she just doesn't think like me, so I have never tried to explain my desire for my breed-mate to be my life partner. She wouldn't understand, and I'd have to suffer through a whole lot of unwanted conversations about societal expectations, family responsibility, and inheritance law.
But now she's done this, then left on season-leave–not that I can actually blame the timing of her season on her–but it means I'm backed into a corner. Was my reaction to Carmen even mine? Or was it simply biology? I push away the thought and enter the collection room.
There is a variety of arousing material available, but I don't need it. All I need is the memory of Carmen's shoulder beneath mine.
I approach the mounting bench with my eyes half closed, imagining how it would feel to have her whole body beneath me. The suede-like cover of the cushion slides tantalisingly over my chest and abs, and I hook my arms over where a hucow's shoulders would be. I lower the weight of my torso onto the bench, and it drops in the same way a female–Bovarian cow or hucow–would submit by lowering her chest and shoulders to the ground.
It clicks into place and I raise my torso slightly to give myself room to move.
I slowly push my cock into the silicone sleeve, imagining it is Carmen's plush body that I am entering. I remember how the lips of her sex looked today–starting to get plump and prominent, and almost completely hairless already–and then imagine those lips completely bare, full and beckoning, proudly jutting out between her thighs and slick with arousal, waiting for me.
I groan as I feel the sleeve cushions press against the base of my cock, just like her lips would if I was fully inside her. Pausing for a moment, I sink into the fantasy, then with my eyes closed, I start to thrust.
Slowly at first, as if warming her up, then with greater and greater force. My impacts make the bench shudder and jolt, and I relish the sound of my rutting. There is no need to hold back here, so I slam my hips into the brace until I come into the collection sleeve with a long bellow. The silicone pulses around me, drawing out more and more semen until I am spent.
The measure is safely stored away by the machinery, and I am left feeling very conflicted as I withdraw from the sleeve and reset the room.