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Atavistic Motherhood by Tegeli CHAPTER 1 The vertigo took its time to clear, after my first glance from the tiny lounge bar clinging to the mountain side. Just outside the window and hundreds of feet below was the tranquil valley, named 'Auspiscion', curving up from a river and fields into pine forests and snow-covered peaks above. My fianc? Maurice kept his arm on my shoulders, so I didn't have to fear falling through the thick glass. Our host, a man who styled himself as Guis 'Marquis' d'Astuce, was pleasant enough. With his narrow face and prominent jaw, he had a distinct appearance, reminiscent of an organic ancestral look inherited for generations. Admittedly, he might have wanted to cultivate such an image for his aristocratic presumptions. Guis's wife Minna hadn't used any title, as far as I had noticed. She was petite and flawless; like a doll, save for her stern expression. With her unfocused gaze glued to the window, she had the air of boredom and contempt. Accordingly, Guis mollycoddled her like she was a spoiled child. Of course, the husband's concern had an understandable reason: Minna's distended belly dominated her small frame. The sight of her made me push my thighs together. I could still feel my shrunken genitals, but not for long, if there wasn't any obstacles to my surgery. Not only wouldn't I be outwardly a complete woman for Maurice's use, the local company would implant a fecund womb into me. It was an intimidating prospect; to leave behind my old life for the ability to create new. In truth, my motives were nothing as poetic as that. Obviously I wanted a family with Maurice, but first we'd participate in a primordial biological mystery. Maurice would have me, until I couldn't escape bearing his children. The thought made me squirm in place. "What do you think, Therine?" Guis asked. I hadn't been listening the men talk. Something about a house. "I'm sure it's nice," I said. Guis chuckled, a good-natured but posh sound. He must have thought me a halfwit. My face warmed. Maurice rubbed my shoulder. "He asked, if we'd prefer taking a room in the spa in valley, or a cabin at the tree line." "Oh, sorry. Both would be nice, but I guess we've had enough of cabins for a while." Guis smiled. "Good choice. Soaking in the natural hot springs will be good for your health." The small talk continued, with mostly the two men doing the speaking. When the subject turned to economy, Maurice half-joked that he wasn't sure he even owned anything any more. Guis mentioned that the local community was doing well. The valley was increasingly autarkic in terms of basic manufacturing and infrastructure: a clear invitation to stay in more permanent capacity. Looking at the view, I wouldn't have minded. "We are going catch up over drinks before dinner," Guis said to his wife. "Do y--" "I need to go check on Sabel," Minna said. "It's been half an hour." "Very well." Guis turned to me. "How about you? Would you prefer sitting with us, or sharing the ride with my wife?" The local wine had been heady, and I didn't want to get sloshed this early in the afternoon. Additionally, I couldn't help but be curious about Minna. I said: "I have had enough alcohol for the moment." Minna didn't speak during ride, and I couldn't come up with anything to break the ice. Her state presumably made her uninterested to hear about my plans to 'expand' similarly. The autocar sped down the serpentine road and back up the end of the valley. The moment the autocar stopped at the large house, Minna climbed out and waddled to the door. It slid open, and a disembodied voice declared: "Welcome home, mistress Minna." "This is Therine," Minna said. "Give her full guest access." "Very well." "How's Sabel?" Minna kicked off her low heels and hurried inside. "She is still sleeping, though with the scheduled feeding time imminent, the estimated probability of the onset of hunger approaches one." I took off my coat and shoes and followed Minna. She skittered to a large living room with massive windows overlooking the valley. A baby cot slid to the woman, who stopped to stare at the child sleeping there, completely ignoring me for a good while. Minna turned to me. She had a smirk on her face. "You don't have to stand there in attention. Make yourself comfortable. Or not, if you prefer." I tried to play off my awkwardness with a chuckle, as I joined her next to the crib. The dreaming baby was surprisingly adorable. I couldn't remember the last time I had seen a live infant. My mouth dried from the mixture of wanting my own child and the creeping fear of the potentiality that I couldn't become a mother after all. Minna's content sigh brought me back to reality. She went to sit on the couch, and the cot followed her. She said: "If you want anything to drink, the kitchen will provide." "Alright. Do you want anything?" "No." Minna leaned back and immediately sat up straight. "Or actually... No, we are supposed to eat soon. Ah... Therine, if you would, get me a bowl of ice cream. The machine knows what I want." I returned with a glass of juice for myself and a huge bowl of chocolate ice cream for Minna. She was feeding her child. I couldn't avert my eyes. Outside their support, her breasts sagged with the full natural weight of their size. The skin was crossed with visible veins and the areola was incongruously dark to her softly tanned skin. I did enjoy having my own sizeable breasts, but hers were straight up primal. I place the bowl next to her and sat on an armchair. After Minna was done feeding her child, she played with Sabel. However, the child was drowsy. Minna had a wistful smile on her face, as she placed the child back into the cot. She fixed her gown and looked at me. Her smile turned into a smirk. "You keep staring at me." "No--" "Come on. You have a good reason to be curious." She gestured me to come closer to her and began scooping up the ice cream. I sat next to her and collected my courage to ask: "May I touch it?" "My belly?" "Y-yeah." Minna chuckled. She put down the bowl and pulled up her gown to reveal her burdened abdomen. "Go on, grope it to your heart's content." Minna grinned. "Though I'm sure you'll get to do that more than enough." With one finger, I touched her. The skin was taut. Not quite like a balloon about to pop, but still in a way human skin wasn't designed for, as evident by the stretch marks. I removed my hand. "Does it hurt?" "Your touching?" I pouted. "In general." "Not really, though it is uncomfortable. Human pregnancy does push the body to its limits." Minna sighed. "Even with all the technological enhancements, I must be insane to go through this. Again." She turned to smirk at me. "Then the hormones take over my brain, and I'm in this weird bliss. It does feel good to be useful while doing nothing in particular. I really shouldn't complain. Even with this full capacity twin pregnancy, I'm suffering noticeably less than women used to." She patted her belly, pulled her gown down and muttered: "Suck it, Eve." "Did you say twins?" "Yes, I did. How perceptive of you." She chuckled. "Sorry, Ther. Just you know, I'm in therapy for being a jerk. Anyhow, Guis wanted twins, and I got carried away by his... enthusiasm. I'm sure he'll convince me to have triplets the next time. Then quadruplets and so on. Eventually I'll pop." Despite it being a joke, I shuddered, mostly from how excited I myself was. "How did you and Guis find each other? I mean it's unusual that..." I made a vague gesture with my hand. "Oh, he bought me and then convinced me that being his wife was what I had wanted in the first place." Minna giggled. "I might be brainwashed, but then again, I wouldn't know." She took the bowl and returned to the scooping. "Let me be nosy now. How about you and Maurice? He doesn't seem to be a weirdo like my husband." I cleared my throat. "I was incarcerated in his home." Minna gave me an incredulous look. "What sort of crime did you do to be sentenced into becoming a baby factory?" "I didn't do anything. It was some freak mistake in the AGI bureaucracy. I think." I wasn't going to mention that I had been selected as a sleeper agent by nebulous revolutionary organisation. "Besides, getting children was my idea." "Oh, then you are a lucky girl to find--" The front door opened, and the house greeted Guis and Maurice. CHAPTER 2 The sedatives were slow at killing my fear. The procedure wasn't just cosmetic genital surgery, though that in itself would have been scary enough. They'd alter my hips, shift my guts, place an uterus into me and attach other implants to regulate my body chemistry. My penis would be gone, most likely forever. I found that I didn't mind. I wouldn't lose anything essential. My Maurice would still get to poke into my butt and fondle my nub, but also so much more. "See you in the recovery, my love." Maurice kissed my forehead and squeezed my hand. I tried to tell him that I was scared to death, but my voice didn't work. The room drifted away, though Maurice still smiled at me. I did my best to smile back. It sure would be a bummer, if I died on the operating table. My lower abdomen ached. The moment I realised, what that meant, I let out a strained moan and tried to sit up. However, I could barely even open my eyes, let alone move. "Hey-hey!" The medical technician hurried to my side. "Relax. The sedatives will take a while to dissipate." "Did it work?" I muttered. The med-tech smiled. "Yes. No complications whatsoever." As touch returned to me, it was clear my crotch had been altered. The sensations were a mumbled mess, but the med-tech assured that my nerves would quickly adjust. That was a relief. I didn't like, how my groin felt like a cracked open penis. Maurice woke me up from my beauty sleep. He held my hand. "How do you feel, honey?" "Fine, master. I'm not in pain." Under the thick thermal blanket, my free hand wandered my below my navel. I didn't dare to move it further down yet. "Though I'm still processing all that has happened. I have this horrid suspicion, that you'll leave me now that I'm..." A sob escaped me. "It's fine," Maurice murmured. "I won't leave you. Just try to relax, but feel free to cry. They said your new organs will mess up with your mood for a while." I embarrassed myself by wailing. Maurice was so good to me. I needed him. My hand moved down to find the moistened lips with their unfamiliar folds. And yet, despite the changes, a familiar cluster of nerve remained. I touched it more to scratch the new but wonderful itch. Maurice's puzzled look turned into a hungry smirk. He cursed under his lips. "It will be hard to wait until the ceremony." My nails sunk into his hand. "Let's do it now, master." The man twisted his mouth. "They did say your tissue is all healed and connected. But we should still wait, just to be sure." "That's mean." I moved my hand above the blanket. "But I'm used to waiting for you." I had to stay in the recovery for another day of frustrating anticipation. The moment we got back to our hotel room, I embraced Maurice. Gently, he pushed me away. "I got you a gift." He handed me a parcel. "I decided to make our wedding night special. So, until then, you'll wear this." In the packet was a chastity belt, a device much larger than the cage I had used. Both disappointment and thrill combined into a shiver through me. "Kinky," I said. "Alright, master. I'll go put it on." I had barely had the time to explore my new equipment in the shower, and now I locked it away. But I knew well, how Maurice rewarded patience. Anyhow, a semi-virginal bride mad with lust with her cherry locked by her man would add romance to our wedding. Maurice slouched on the couch, when I sauntered out of the bathroom with just the belt on. I handed him the key. "I am yours, master." He smiled. "Is it comfortable?" "Yes, surprisingly so. Nevertheless, I want out of it, so we'll start planning the wedding right now. If that suits you, master." "Right after you soften this stiffness you caused." I pouted, but obediently knelt between his feet. The local tailor designed my wedding outfit. I asked for multiple layers, and she provided them. Under everything except the chastity belt, was a white bodyglove. Wearing it was about as indecent as one could get while fully covered. Next was an undergown sheer enough to be nearly transparent. The main 'gown' itself was two stiff angular halves, which covered my thighs, hips and torso, and framed my shoulders like wings of ice. I was unenthusiastic about the garment, until I saw it on myself. The whole outfit sure left an impression. Above it all I wore a prismatic gauze, which floated like mist around me. Maurice knew intimately, what was underneath, so demure modesty was pointless. But we could pretend otherwise for one evening. Our marriage contract was boilerplate: mutual fidelity, sexual access, shared property. We both knew, what we wanted from the deal, but those additional stipulations were private and didn't need legal enforcement. The ceremony itself was at the root of a massive tree in middle of a copse, already verdant from the start of spring. The event would have been like animist festival, if there had been a priest for the ritual. I was in my snow-white outfit, while Maurice wore a dark red suit vaguely reminiscent of a combat uniform without armour plates. With his straight posture, he was dashing in his antiqued martial form of masculinity. We mimicked the bygone tradition of ring gifting. However, instead of the bride getting some gaudy crystal, we both put on identical rings of near-eternal superalloy. They were cheap enough that nobody would ever bother recycling them, so they would in all likelihood last until they were ground to dust by aeons of tectonic activity. Neither of us professed any strong metaphysical world views. Thus we only announced our pledges to each other, surrounded by a good part of the valley residents as our witnesses. He'd be my husband, my love, my companion, my man and the father of my children. I'd be his wife, his love, his companion, his woman and the mother of his children. We'd love each other, and do our best to wade through any --hopefully brief-- hardships together. These we pledged, while my heart pounded with in my chest. Inside my mind I pledged that he'd remain my master, even if I wouldn't call him that. Maurice's hand was clammy with sweat, when he took my hand. But so was mine. The big dumb smile on his face wavered, as our eyes met for the first time as a married couple. We kissed, first with chaste decorum. We corrected our mistake by showing our shared wanton desire in our embrace. This was no religious occasion, after all, even if it was sacred to us. After we managed to get back to the hotel room, our lips couldn't keep apart. Our kisses made undressing me into a frustrating operation, but eventually I was bare save for my chastity belt. Maurice threw me the key and started to undress himself. I fumbled the belt open and let it fall on the floor. My husband dashed to embrace me, but I pushed him away. It was my turn to get a little revenge. "Wait a moment, my husband. First I will have to refresh myself." Though I took only a quick shower, I lingered in front of the mirror. The pubic hair of my new parts had grown into a stubble, but the slit was still in clear view. I reached to touch my crotch again, but decided better of it; the vulva was overly sensitive and I was already flooded with arousal. I didn't want my first orgasm as a wife to be from fingering myself in the bathroom. "Did you get lost?" Maurice shouted. "Yes! But the locals are very friendly to tourists in this land! I'll ask for directions." I took a deep breath. Sleeping with Maurice me again shouldn't have been intimidating, but this time it would be different. I didn't have just a repurposed pucker for him to use. Not only that. I had seen the medical scan of my abdomen. Inside me was everything a woman had, plus regulating modules. And I had living proof in Minna that the uterine implant did work as intended. According to the sensors inside me, my body wasn't at '100% fecund', but that didn't rule out conception from one intercourse. Afterwards I'd experience a nine months ride to an alien existence as a mother. My mind often got stuck in the titillating carnal part of the role, but I would have to be so much more than my master's toy. But those considerations could wait. Now we would act our roles in a primordial play, though laced with modern spices of course. My nether parts clenched in a sensation I hadn't gotten used to yet. A sigh escaped my lips from the heat flaring through me. I sure was receptive to fulfilling my new biological purpose. "Alright. I'm coming out now." I stepped into the dark room, but Maurice was nowhere to be seen. A shiver went up my spine. From behind the bathroom door, an arm reached around my waist. The hand of another grabbed my throat. "Scream, and I'll snap your pretty neck," the man growled. "Please don't hurt me!" I shuddered. "Where's my husband?" "That's irrelevant. You should think about your own safety." The beast pushed me down on the thick carpet. Before I could get up, he knelt between my legs and pressed my back to keep me down. "No, please!" I squirmed to get away, but the man was too strong. My body went limp. I was too weak to escape. A hand moved up my thigh. The man had complete power over me. My mind grew light, yet the man's touch burned through the dizziness. "Don't!" I whined. "I'm saving myself..." "You were saving yourself for me." His fingers touched my moist nether lips. One of them sunk to move inside me. I shivered from how nice it felt. The brute rubbed me and growled: "All wet, like a good bitch should." "No..." The sensation was too much. If I had known, how to stifle an orgasm, I would have. The sudden glow radiated through my lower half. I sighed from satisfaction. "What the--" The man removed his hand from my back. "Did you come?" I turned around and grinned at Maurice. "I did. Sorry." After the break-in at Maurice's cabin, I had enjoyed play-pretend about intruders, but those fantasies always involved my rightful man saving me, his girl. "Naughty little thing." He helped me up and to the bed. "Do you feel like continuing?" "Yes, husband." Weirdly enough, the glow hadn't entirely faded yet. Maurice's hands surged to hold me. He clambered on top and fumbled to position his member for entrance. I moaned into his mouth, when the cock forced me open and slid smoothly inside. I had requested a hymen, but the only unpleasant sensation was a tiny sting. The rest was pleasure, as my body engulfed his rod. Maurice continued his sloppy kisses, as he thrust with deliberate imprecision. I lifted my legs in a clumsy attempt to wrap them around him. I was his, and he needed to know he was mine. More of his weight fell on me; a lovely proof of how much in his power I was. Together with him, I didn't have to fear anything. The man's breath deepened, and his movements became smaller. His rod merely churned inside me. Yet it kept the tension in me going, which was more than enough for me. Maurice stifled his satisfied sigh. Warm liquid joined his cock in my sheath. He panted a whisper: "You are in for it now, honey." I giggled, and Maurice moved off me. He pulled the blanket to cover us and drew me against him. My hand wandered down to touch my crotch. Along the moisture was familiar thick slime. I pressed my fingers on my lower abdomen. If I was lucky, soon my belly would feel very different. I came to from my hazy half-dream, still in Maurice's embrace. The room remained dark. "Oh, you woke," Maurice said. "Your snoring sounded funny." "I don't snore!" "You do. But it's more of a cute wheeze than a raspy combustion engine." We remained silent for a minute or two. "Master... Maurice... What do you think about Minna?" "I-- Are you trying to make me say another woman is pretty on our wedding night?" "No, I meant... Imagine--" I moved my hands over my belly. "That but on me." "Oh, you fear I'll lose my interest after you balloon." Maurice paused long enough that I thought he had fallen asleep. "I admit though it has it's appeal, I find it weird; putting a woman through something arduous, which a machine could just as well do. And the belly does look like the symptom of a horrendous medical condition. But then again, there's nothing more feminine, at least in raw biological terms." "I think that's why Guis likes it." A hand reached from the darkness and pinched my nose. "Don't worry. I didn't marry you, because you weren't bloated at the moment. And if you change you mind, the embryo can be transferred to an artificial uterus." I nuzzled against him to seem like I was agreeing. But I knew wasn't going to give up that direct biological connection to him and our child. CHAPTER 3 Guis had sent me a small handheld medical scanner. I wasted a good number of needles on bi-daily blood tests, but I had to wait two weeks for the thrilling and terrifying news. I was pregnant. The elation robbed me of most of my weight. I jumped up and pranced around the room. Maurice really had made me his girl. My fertility had been set to random, but slightly skewed towards multiples. I had decided that I'd ask my physician not to tell me the details. The exact sex of the child, or even the amount of children, would be a surprise, just as nature intended. When Maurice returned, I was in the bed poking my belly. I had been trying to feel, what was inside, even though I knew everything would be too small to touch. "Guess what, my husband," I cooed. "You figured out this was all a huge mistake, and want to go back to being a boy?" Maurice kicked of his shoes and collapsed on the couch. I pouted. "I wouldn't give up this for the world. Maurice, I'm pregnant." He smiled. "Come here, so I can 'rub it in'." I stood up and with slow steps walked Maurice. He took my hand and helped me mount his lap. His appreciation of my form was apparent in the hardness in his trousers. The feeling was mutual: my underwear clung to my moist moistened crotch. The man's other hand move under my gown to touch the skin under my navel. Maurice whispered a curse under his breath. I giggled. "Not in the earshot of the baby!" "It's just that..." He chuckled. "You aren't the only one to whom this is a huge affair. Obviously, to you this is positively enormous, but as far as I know, I don't have children." He let out a sigh. "Kind of changes one's outlook on life." "You'll be a great father." I wrapped my free hand around his neck. "So, did you get the job?" "It's not a job." He smirked. "More like voluntary community service." I bit my lip. "Will it be dangerous? I don't want to be a widowed mother." Maurice smirked. "Not at all. I won't be out there, physically defending this valley. It's just threat analysis and security assessment. Besides, the biggest problem right now is that the valley is still reliant on global suppliers, which might at any moment decide their profit-driven business model is inefficient for the control of more resource." I humped against him. "This talk about security makes me hot inside." "What doesn't?" His hands sunk into my buttocks. I pressed my forehead against his. "For one, becoming a widow. So don't ever do that to me." Against my expectations, Minna hadn't been about ready, when we first met. Instead, she was still overtly pregnant almost a month later. Despite her frighteningly large belly, Minna held Sabel's hand as the giggling toddler struggle to take steps. "So, how does it feel?" she asked me. "To know that for the next nine months you will be a really crappy fleshy replacement for an uterine pod?" "I try to contain my excitement." Minna smiled and lifted Sabel to sit with her on the couch. "It is exciting, I agree. Until you feel every part of your body creaking under the stress of its new responsibilities." Sitting, her belly protruded over halfway to her knees. A lump pushed out of her belly, threatening to breach her taut skin. I jolted in place. Minna laughed. "They are restless." My heart raced from the silly scare. I did my best to control my voice, as I said: "That didn't hurt?" "Of course not. It's actually nice, how they are finally getting ready to leave. Though it does remind me of a vid about wasp larvae squirming inside a caterpillar." She giggled at my shudder. "Have you decided the names yet?" I asked. "No. Guis can't decide, if he'd want the names of some mythological twins, or two snobby regional names. He's making a list, from which I'll select the pair I like the most. But the truth is, if it was up to me, I'd call them 'B' and 'C', with little 'A' here." She tickled Sabel under the child's arm. "Let them figure out, what they want to be called. It's not like I had a proper name before 'Minna', though then again, I can't I say turned out fine." "You seem to be handling being a mother well enough." Minna frowned. "I have to constantly watch myself. Considering my background, I'm at risk of being a horribly abusive parent." She gave me a lopsided smile. "I'm quite sure my implants flood my system with hormones to keep me compulsively motherly." I shifted uncomfortably in place. I couldn't claim hormones weren't influencing my feelings and behaviour, but I preferred to think I was my own person. Yet, paradoxically, the thought that I was at the mercy of my body chemistry made me warm inside. The rational sentient part of me was shackled by my biological purpose. In a sense, it was an island of safety from all the uncertainty in life. A grimace twisted Minna's face. "Damn... It's starting." I leaned forward. "Are you sure?" Minna lifted the child off her lap. "Positive. I've been timing the contractions, and besides, this is all eerily familiar. House, call Guis and get the car." "Yes, mistress Minna," the voice answered. She waved my help away and got up with some effort. "If you want to help," she said. "Pick up the duffel bag in the corner." She wrapped a sling around her neck and placed the tiny girl it. I followed her outside with the bag. The car was already waiting. Minna placed Sabel in a safety seat and clambered inside. "Hop in," she said to me. "The car can take you back to the hotel on the same trip." Guis, wearing medical garb, was waiting outside the medical compound. He took the bag from me and picked up Sabel. "Take the seat, dear," he said and motioned to a wheelchair. "I'm not a cripple," Minna snapped, despite her slouch and holding her back. Guis kept his calm smile. "But you are experimentally pregnant, dear." "Fine. I guess you can't carry me this time." Minna sat down. "Thanks, Therine, for the help and company." "It was no trouble." "I too want to thank you for helping my wife," Guis said. "You can take the car instead of waiting for another ride." "See you later, Therine." Minna flicked the controls to make the wheelchair spin in place, to Guis's visible but impotent consternation. Next day I got a message about a successful and surprisingly fast delivery, with a picture of the weird looking pair of lumps. CHAPTER 4 Auspiscion built a house for me and Maurice next to the original ancient village. Though the house had a fully antiquated outward appearance with its tile roof and whitewashed walls, inside it was a fully automated modern home. The building was considerably large, with plenty of spare rooms, to which I couldn't imagine any use. Save maybe children's bedrooms. Due to the sophisticated machinery, I had minimal amount of chores to do. My idle fancy of being a home mum threatened to become awfully boring. I'd have to figure out a hobby, but I couldn't really do anything useful, as my vocation from my life before was less than worthless in the valley. On her spare time, Minna was studying medicine emphasizing neurochemistry. I however wasn't particularly academically inclined, so I tried my hand with practical botany. My own produce would give me an excuse to cook meals by myself. Maurice pretended to love my cooking with such a believability that usually I was convinced that he preferred my attempts to the kitchen's. Spending a lot of time outside was great for my pasty complexion. The locals shunned virtual reality and weren't particularly favourable to other digital entertainment either, so I frequently bumped into our new neighbours. They were a friendly bunch, always eager to pass on the results of their handicrafts, like baked goods and warm knitted socks. At times I vividly experienced a notion that I had been dropped into the hoary past before global information networks. Luckily, I wasn't at risk of dying from typhus. Or childbirth. I closely monitored the growth of my belly, but only by touch. I wasn't going to ruin the surprise by using a medical scanner. My physician of course knew, but she was willing not to divulge the details to neither me nor Maurice. Two months in, I thought myself to be huge, even though baggy clothes could still hide the smooth bump. Not that I wanted to hide the visible sign that I was Maurice's woman. However, the pregnancy made any outfit even a little revealing look awfully indecent. The mother of our children wouldn't be a slut, expect maybe in privacy with her master. We didn't get any VR equipment, though not solely because of Guis's strong opinion about the technology. A man like Maurice had never been a huge fan of full escapism, and I hadn't missed it during my stay with him. I didn't need to escape. Still, we weren't going to go back to telling stories around the campfire for entertainment. I huddled against Maurice, as we watched a recently written interactive series. The director program was at its wits ends trying to accommodate to our preferences. The guys would turn into a snivelling girlies and end up in a steamy relationship with one of the remaining hunks. Beyond the gratuitous sex, most of the characters acted with barely any awareness of the bigger plot. "Do you ever wish you had a harem like that?" I asked during a superfluous bathing scene. "My hands are full with just one girl." Maurice's fingers snaked for squeeze my breast. "Though I've been thinking... That Constanze would make a fine addition to my collection." I gasped in mock outrage, without being able to hide all of the flaring jealousy. "Are you serious?" "Of course not. If I wanted to bump more than one woman, I'd hook my brain into VR." The vid's story lost all coherence, when the main rival of the evilly handsome king came back from death as a woman and fell in love with the dastardly monarch. When the new girl appeared at her wedding holding a bulbous belly, Maurice placed his hand on mine in a possessive gesture, which made shudder with satisfaction. "Do you enjoy the sigh of the fruits of your conquest?" I cooed in an echo of the vid's dialogue. Maurice let his smirk show some teeth. "I fear I'm developing a bio- fetish." Maurice pushed me on my back, and lay down next to me, with his head at level with my torso. "You know what that means." He kissed my belly. "Oh no..." I moaned. "Where are we going to keep all the children?" Maurice chuckled and moved himself to lay at my side. "We have room." I placed my hands on my stomach. "It already feels cramped in here." "Do you want to try forcing in more occupants?" I giggled. "That won't work." My mind blanked for a moment. "Gosh, I hope so." "Let's try anyway." I wasn't going to deny his libido. Lack of reproductive purpose had never impeded our sex life. It shouldn't have surprised me that a sixth month pregnancy would feel heavy. What actually was weird was that, most of the time, I didn't notice the 'weight' of my stomach. My physician assured such shifts were completely normal and not the sign of my ramshackle uterus threatening to slide out. Minna was my only real peer support. There were other pregnant women in the pack of fellow hens, who I had befriended. But Minna was the only one, who knew the additional terror, which having an implanted uterus caused. As far as my hormone-addled brain knew, every cramp or odd shift could portend something horrible. "Just relax," Minna said. "Practice contractions and other shifts are perfectly normal." Easy for her to say. After the twins, she hadn't gotten pregnant again. We were sitting at the side of a neighbourhood picnic. I held my oversized belly from the instinctive need to keep it from unravelling. At that moment, I hoped my child would already be running among the flock of kids instead of making me upset with worry. Guis was still testing his firstborn's recent ability to run a few feet before falling on the sward, when Maurice returned with our grilled sandwiches. I gobbled it down without much thought, but fortunately Maurice had another one for me. Namely his own. He was my rock in the raging ocean of my mind. Minna's little twins stared at the world from the safety of her double baby sling. As my pregnancy developed, I found myself more assured --and hopeful-- that I only had one child in me. Maurice was all I wanted from a husband, and I was glad that I could think of him as my master. But that wasn't the role-model I wanted to give to my children, especially my daughters. Not every man was worth of the trust I had for Maurice. Sitting next to him on a couch, I twisted my torso to poke my huge belly slightly in front of him. I asked: "What if it's a girl?" Maurice looked at me with a smirk on his face. He must have read me like a book, yet he said: "Why do you ask?" I pursed my mouth. "You know... I'm uncertain what sort of example I make. Nobody here calls their husband a master." "You don't either." "Yes, but only because I don't want anyone to think you are mistreating me." I pressed against the man as much as my belly allowed. "The people here aren't primitive enough to approve of that." "I'm not either." Maurice guided me to lay my head on his lap and brushed my hair with his hand. "You are obviously not scared of me, so anyone can see I'm not forcing you to anything. But this isn't really about that, is it? Instead, you think you won't make a good role-model to your children. I hope you aren't you embarrassed just because you have no prospects planned beyond being a housewife." "It's not that!" I swallowed. "Well, I... Perhaps it is. Everyone here is so busy with their work, or hobbies, or research or arts." "You have been a busy little bee in our garden." "Oh yeah. That disaster. I'm not sure the garlics are doing anything but rotting in the soil." Maurice chuckled. "You'll figure it out. At least I hope so. I like your cooking much more than what the kitchen makes." "Really?" I turned on my back, but the position was uncomfortable. Maurice helped me up to sit. "Yes. It has more personality." "That just another term for 'defective in a peculiar way'." "Not at all. You have talent. In fact, I think we should invite the neighbours for a meal sometime." I couldn't contain my smile. "Sounds nice. But only after my current bun is done. The stress would be too much for us." He kissed me in a such tender way that deserved some good pepper stew as reward. I did my best to remain active, even though my body tried to turn me sessile with aching and straight up pain. Walking in the shallow pool of the spa and soaking in the warm baths seemed the best method to keep up my fitness while avoiding discomfort. I couldn't remember having seen any visibly pregnant women before coming to the valley, but now I did water aerobics among a group of half a dozen fellow nutcases. Apparently the only people in the area, who utilised artificial wombs, were those without an intimate access to a natural one. My need for Maurice's touch didn't disappear, even though my libido shrunk a little, especially after a climax led to yet another fit of 'practice contractions'. Though they weren't particularly painful, they were weird and made me scared that the pregnancy was turning premature. I sat in Maurice's hug, all huge and cumbersome. He repaid my earlier oral attention with tender touching, but I barely managed to concentrate on anything but my back pain. A contraction, a properly painful one, made me wince. "Oh, no." I groaned. "This must be it." Maurice kissed the side of my head. "Honey, you said that yesterday and the day before." He took my hand. A flash of anger clouded my mind, but I managed to calm down by noticing the hand holding mine. I whimpered: "This time the contraction actually hurt." "Alright. Let's time them." Maurice's apparent calm dented, as the consistency of my contractions became irrefutable. "You need to get to the maternity ward." In a sudden burst of strength from augmented muscle, Maurice lifted me up and carried me outside to the car, where my bag was already waiting. The specifically designed "labour couch" was an intimidating contraption with multiple arms, but it allowed a safe and relatively comfortable upright posture. When the pressure heightened, I prepared to curse Maurice for roping me into this, but the sudden fiery pain was too mind-blanking for externalised anger. The worst only lasted for a brief moment. I was helped to lay down, with the knowledge that I had only been pregnant with one child. I was immensely relieved and a hint disappointed. All that disappeared from my mind, when the medical technician lowered the rosy fragile little bundle on me. I had read everything I could about maternal bonding, down to the specific interactions of chemicals in the brain. I had feared those hormones would rob me of my mind, yet at times I had been afraid that my brain would be too different for the crucial mechanism to work properly. Those considerations turned out to be altogether irrelevant. My girl was vulnerable and needed her mother. If anything more important than her had existed, it would have become the centre of my new religious system. My giddy elation cleared a little by the time the infant found her strength to cry and to feed. Maurice came to my side. His mellow satisfied smile implied that his brain hadn't remained unaffected by the parental surge of hormones. I shivered from uncontrollable unease, all the while my mind floated in an immense sea of happiness. Due to my 'special' anatomy, it was prudent that I stayed at the medical centre for additional two days of testing, observation and scans. Any additional data might help others like me, so I didn't mind. Maurice could do his work from my room and so stayed with us. Guis came to congratulate us, though a few of his questions had the taste of a quality assurance questionnaire. I obviously hadn't enjoyed the pain and discomfort, but I couldn't know how much of it was necessary. But I wouldn't have undone any of it, as that would have been erasing a large part of what I was now. Autumn had spread its gold and red throughout the lower valley. I sat in my fading garden, with my little Anna huddled against me. She was bit of an anxious child, but always calmed down quickly when held. "Do my girls need another blanket?" Maurice asked from the doorsill. I was comfortable enough, but I smiled at his excuse. He sat next to me and wrapped the blanket around our shoulders. "The view is quite nice," Maurice said. "Yes, it is." "But I think we should travel. After the kids grow up a bit. The people here are pleasant, but I don't feel like 'growing roots', just yet at least." "I agree. Though how many kids are you planning to put me through? I don't want to 'go for the high score', like Lin." Maurice chuckled. "How many does she have? Fourteen?" "Yes, and she's pregnant again." Maurice shook his head. "Two or three --the bare minimum to do our part against the voluntary extinction-- would be enough for me." "Sounds good. For a start." I kissed his cheek. "After we have travelled enough for a while, I want to continue my horticulture experiment. To tend a proper garden, and perhaps try a little winemaking on the side." "This village could use a botanical garden." Maurice nodded at Anna. "May I hold her?" "Of course." Anna was slightly unsettled by her change of holder, but she calmed down, perhaps recognising her father. She stared at him with intensity, which made me smirk. "She's so small." Maurice glanced at me. "Odd, considering..." I pouted. "Are you implying I'm fat?" I had been upset by how much my body had been changed by pregnancy. Thorough explanation about procedures for fixing all of it had calmed me enough to realise how unnecessary it was. I looked like a mother, and that was what I had wanted. "Not quite. You should continue to exercise, though," His smile was tender. "Let's go for a walk. Would you get the sling for me?" "Why didn't you--" My smile widened. "Alright." I took my good time changing into more suitable outfit, but soon I couldn't tarry any longer. I sneaked a look at Maurice and the infant from the doorsill. He was leaning over her, talking in soft murmur to Anna, who kept reaching for his face with her tiny arms. Maurice would make a good father. I'd have more children with him, that was sure, perhaps more than three but certainly not a dozen. Just enough to fill our home with life. AUTHOR'S NOTES: I found myself bummed that 'The Valley of Atavism' ended a bit too soon. The childbearing angle was quite central to the non-plot, but we never actually got to see that. Also, 'Marquis/Guis' and 'Maurice' are rather similar names, but that can't be fixed. Thanks for reading. All rights are waived on this text, CC0.