by Selena Kitt
“Not half as sorry as I am.” K wrapped her arms around herself again and rested her chin on her knees. “I’m frightened, Boone. I... I liked the way I looked before.” Her eyes stung and she blinked rapidly, trying not to cry. “I never wanted this.”
“I know you didn’t, darlin’,” he murmured softly. “And I’m to blame for it—I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t say anything.” K rolled onto her side and stared at the wall. “Just leave me alone.”
“Sure,” he said quietly, settling down on the other side of the sleeping platform without touching her. “If that’s the way you want it.”
“I do.” K closed her eyes, trying to shut out the light, trying to forget what was happening to her. I should beg him to give back my skinsuit. If I could just wear it again, even for a little while, it might stop this, stop what’s happening inside me.
But she was too proud to beg. And even though she hated the strange and messy process her body was going through, she wasn’t sure she disliked it quite enough to go back to her former emotionless state. Her own indecision made her hate herself even more. She was weak now. Weak and cowardly and soft.
And soon her outer body would mirror her inner self.
Chapter Fifteen
In the days that followed her first menstrual cycle, K became even more silent and withdrawn than she’d been after the shower incident. She barely spoke to Boone and her appetite fell off to almost nothing. Boone was fairly sure her body was continuing to develop but he couldn’t be certain because now she kept herself hidden from him at all times. With the advent of her period, her touch cravings seemed to have dropped off so she no longer needed their time outs, or to be held by him at night. They still shared the same room and sleeping platform but now they seldom talked and never touched.
It was torture.
Boone hadn’t realized how much he enjoyed holding her, talking to her and hearing that low, contralto voice answer. He missed their work-outs, their discussion of literature and life, K’s quaint way of expressing herself which was a strange mixture of candor and threat with a quiet sense of humor almost no one else could have detected. He missed teaching her to cook and introducing her to new foods. Basically he missed everything about her.
More than once he thought about offering her the suit back. It was mostly regenerated so she could probably put it back on and wear it effectively now. Without the plasma gauntlets attached, it could hurt no one but her. It might even be able to arrest the rapid physical development she was going through—though he doubted it could reverse it.
But though he came close several times, he couldn’t bear to let her have it back. Boone told himself it was because he was a doctor—the suit had been hurting her, pumping her full of drugs and inhibitors, controlling her moods and her actions. He wouldn’t give a heroine or blaze addict back their drug supply just because they were unhappy without it, would he? Especially knowing how harmful it would be to them.
Deep down, though, he knew that was just a rationalization. The real reason he didn’t offer K her suit was that he couldn’t bear to see her turn back into the cold, emotionless robot she’d been when he first captured her. She was angry with him now but even her anger was better than nothing at all. He told himself uneasily that she would get over it, that once her first menstrual cycle was over her hormones would settle and maybe she would see that being a sexually mature woman wasn’t so bad. Wouldn’t she? God, he hoped so. Hoped she wouldn’t hate him forever... because he was almost certain he was falling in love with her.
And how screwed up was that?
K’s body changed more every day. It was a frightening process that made her feel helpless and out of control. When she dared to drop her clothing and look at herself naked in the viewer, she felt she didn’t even know the person looking back at her. Her body was no longer the sleek, sexless weapon it had been for most of her life. Now it had curves where there should be straight lines, mounds and lumps where there should have been flat planes. She was sensitive too, dangerously sensitive at the tips of her newly grown breasts and between her legs. They were weak spots no enemy would hesitate to exploit.
K hated that.
But worst of all, worse than her self-recrimination and her traitorous body, was her longing to be close to Boone. She was angry with him—he was the source of all her problems, she told herself. It was his fault she was growing breasts and leaking blood like some faulty machine about to malfunction. His fault she was swamped with emotions day and night until she could barely think from feeling so much.
And yet even as she hated him, she missed him.
Every night he was right beside her, only inches away. She could feel the heat of his big body against her spine but now she couldn’t touch him. Couldn’t curl up in his arms and feel the hard press of his muscular chest against her back and the comforting warmth of his breath against the back of her neck. K told herself she was glad the touch cravings had left her so she no longer had to endure his skin against hers. But the truth was she felt like something inside her was starving every time she wanted to touch him and couldn’t.
The irony of the situation was not lost on her. When she’d first woken up without her suit she had been horrified about being contaminated—now she craved it. It was wrong but she couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop it. But at the same time, she had too much pride to do anything about it. So she went through the days and nights as they made their way to Eros not touching or talking to Boone, even though she missed him so desperately tears came to her eyes at times.
The emotions of loss and longing continued to torment her, even after the bleeding stopped. And then, after the cramps ceased, she had a new pain to contend with.
She ignored it at first. It started with an emptiness inside her—a feeling of being hollow, of needing to be filled somehow between her thighs. K told herself it was ridiculous—why would her body suddenly demand to have something inserted into it—especially there? It didn’t make sense. But then the hollow feeling got worse and was joined by new pains—sharp twinges in the tips of her breasts and the sensitive spot between her thighs—mostly in the tiny button of flesh that now grew between the lips of her sex.
Still, K ignored her symptoms. She didn’t like this new body with its curves and mounds, its inconvenient monthly leaking and of course, the endless barrage of emotions it was subject to. It was easier to pretend that nothing was wrong, to pretend she felt nothing as she always had. But the feeling of emptiness grew and the twinges turned into aches which gave way to a throbbing heat until she felt like someone was holding an open flame to her most delicate areas. It grew harder and harder to ignore the signals her body was sending. Harder and harder to pretend she was fine.
But K tried. She fought it for three days and nights as they made their final approach to Eros, stubbornly silent despite the escalating discomfort. It’s probably just part of this new cycle Boone says I have to go through every month, she told herself uneasily as she tossed restlessly beside him in the dark on the third night. But wouldn’t he have told her if that was so? Maybe he doesn’t know—he’s a male, after all. What does he know about female pain? Except he was a doctor and he’d known all about the menstrual cramps which had so incapacitated her the first night. Wouldn’t he have warned her to expect the burning pain in her nipples and sex? The aching to be filled between her thighs? Shouldn’t he have explained why it happened?
K didn’t know the answers; she only knew she couldn’t stand much more of it. Biting her lips to keep from crying out, she turned on her side. She was wearing her loosest outfit—Boone’s largest shirt—because the feeling of fabric against her newly sensitive nipples had become completely unbearable. Even so, as she turned, her right breast brushed against the side of the shirt. The cool synthi-cotton fabric might as well have been agony thorns—painful heat rushed through K’s entire body, drawing an involuntary moan from her lips. Purity, it hurt so much! And the drawing ache of her em
pty sex made it even worse.
“That’s it.” Boone’s voice sounded impatient and worried in the darkness. K felt him sit up beside her and then he muttered, “Lights.”
She squinted as the overhead glows flashed on, illuminating the room. “Boone, what are you doing?”
“Finding out what’s wrong with you.” He glared down at her, his eyes narrowed. “So what is it? What’s wrong?”
She wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Nothing.”
“Bullshit!” he exploded. “Look, darlin’, I realize you’re pissed at me and I’ve been trying to give you some space but this is ridiculous. I hear you thrashing around, trying not to moan or cry. I see the way you move—so stiff and careful. Like everything that touches you hurts you. So tell me, K, what the hell is going on?”
“I don’t know,” she flared back, sitting up. “I only know I hurt.”
“K, sweetheart...” Boone looked like he wanted to reach for her but didn’t quite dare. “Where do you hurt? Are you still having cramps?”
“No.” K shifted and winced as the soft shirt brushed her other sensitive nipple. “Nothing like that. Well... not exactly.”
“What do you mean, ‘not exactly?’ Is it touch cravings?” Boone asked softly. “I haven’t noticed you shaking or seizing but K, if you need to be touched, you know all you have to do is ask.”
“I don’t know what I need.” She glared at him briefly and then looked down at her hands. “And even if this—whatever it is—does have to do with touch cravings, I doubt... doubt you’d want to touch me now.”
He frowned. “What makes you say that?”
K looked away. “I’ve changed so much... too much. Before you took my suit I was a warrior. Now I’m noting but another soft, helpless female.”
Boone sighed. “I’m sorry I took the suit, K, but I had no choice.”
“There is always a choice.” K lifted her chin. “You chose to rearrange my life—my entire existence is upside down because of you, Boone.”
“Speaking of choices, I wouldn’t have been able to if you hadn’t chosen to attack our ship,” he reminded her. “And besides, K, I haven’t heard you asking to get the suit back for a while.”
K frowned but found she couldn’t meet his eyes. “That’s true.”
“Are you asking for it now?” he asked softly.
K clenched her jaw. “Yes... no... I don’t know!” she exploded. “I’m having all these pains and biological processes I never had to deal with before, Boone. Before, with my suit, all I had to do was fight and sleep. And even sleep wasn’t a necessity—I could skip it for days at a time if I wanted to—my suit kept me alert.”
“By pumping you full of dangerous stimulants, no doubt.” He frowned.
K sighed. “The point is, now I have to expend time and energy and so many other things. I have to eat and sleep regularly and I leak blood once a month and have all these emotions—”
“Then why haven’t you asked for it back?” His tone was soft but challenging. “Could it be that you don’t want to go back to the way you were before?”
K looked down at her hands. “I should want to go back. I should hate this existence you forced on me. I should hate you, Boone,”
“Do you?” His deep voice was wistful. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did but I can’t help wishing you don’t.”
K sighed again. “No, I don’t hate you.” She looked up at him. “Don’t take that as a reprieve on your death sentence, though. I have still sworn to kill you.”
“I know.” His tone was completely serious. “But until then, until you get back your suit and come looking to take me down, can’t we declare some kind of a truce? I’ve got to be honest, darlin’, this last little while you’ve been mad at me has seemed like an awful long time.”
K bit her lip. “It... seemed like a long time to me, too,” she admitted softly. “But somehow I just couldn’t say anything about it.”
He shook his head. “That’s because you’re one of the most stubborn people I’ve ever met. And the strongest. Being feminine and soft doesn’t mean you’re weak, K.”
“It does to me.” Her eyes were stinging but she refused to cry. “I look so different now. And this pain isn’t helping me feel any better about my ‘new body’ either.”
Boone sighed. “Why don’t you let me examine you? I can tell you if I see anything abnormal and maybe we can find out why you’re hurting so much.”
K was reluctant to undress, reluctant to let him see her new shape—the unsightly curves which had overtaken her lovely straight lines and flat planes. But the pain was getting so bad she didn’t think she had a choice. “All right,” she said tightly. “But only because I can’t stand this anymore.”
“I’ll do my best to help you,” Boone promised quietly. “Go ahead, darlin’—it’s okay.”
Slowly, with trembling fingers, K forced herself to unbutton the shirt. Then, not daring to look Boone in the eyes, she bit her lip and spread the synthi-cotton fabric open.
There was a long moment of silence and then Boone let out a low, hoarse curse.
I knew it! I’m hideous! K started to pull the shirt closed but he stopped her with one large hand on her wrist.
“Wait a minute, darlin’. Don’t do that.”
“I don’t want you to look anymore.” K felt her chin tremble and cursed herself for being a weak, emotional fool. “I don’t want you to see me this way.”
“What way? I’ve seen you naked before,” he reminded her softly.
“Not like this. Now I’m so... so ugly.” K shook her head. It shouldn’t matter to her how she looked, but somehow it did. Especially when it was Boone doing the looking.
“K, darlin’ let me be very clear about this.” Ducking his head, he looked into her eyes. “You’re not ugly. You do look... different from when I first saw you but that’s just because you have a woman’s body now. And, K, it’s beautiful. You’re beautiful.”
“You’re just saying that.” K lifted her chin. “I don’t want your pity.”
“It’s not pity—I wouldn’t dare to pity you.” He gave a low laugh. “Hell, you’d probably cut my balls off if I did. But believe me, darlin’, you don’t need anyone’s pity looking the way you do.” He ran a hand through his hair and shifted uncomfortably.
Looking down, K could see a strange bulge had appeared in the crotch of his underbriefs. It looked very hard and it was pressing insistently against the black fabric. No wonder he was having trouble sitting still.
A sudden thought occurred to her—was she the cause of his problem? Had looking at her made him... hard? K knew the rudiments of sexual reproduction—the male’s shaft grew rigid and he inserted it into the female’s nether orifice. Could it be that observing her new, changed body had stimulated Boone to want to... but no, she couldn’t think about that. The mere idea of it made her cheeks feel hot and the throbbing emptiness in her sex seemed to intensify tenfold. What in Purity was wrong with her?
“Um...” Boone cleared his throat and appeared to make an effort to look up at her face. “So what seems to be the problem?”
“I have a burning, aching sensation here and here.” Lightly, K touched each of her tender, sensitive nipples in turn. “Oh, and here.” She let her hand trail down to rest just above her swollen cleft. “There’s some kind of a little nub or button there and it aches so much.”
“Christ.” Boone swallowed hard and ran both hands through his hair this time. “Anything else?”
K wasn’t sure how to describe it. “I have a feeling... like I’m empty inside. Like I need to be filled somehow. Between my thighs—here.” She nodded at her sex again. “But that doesn’t make any sense—does it? I mean, it’s not part of the whole menstrual cycle thing, is it?”
“Not that I know of but Erian physiology is different from other Earth-normal humans. How long has this been going on?”
“Three days at least,” K admitted in a low voice. Now that she was sure he didn’t think
she was ugly, she enjoyed having the scratchy fabric away from her breasts. The cool breeze circulating through the room felt good against her throbbing nipples and the cleft of her sex. With a sigh, she spread her legs a little wider, trying to ease some of the tension between her thighs.
Boone cursed again and looked away quickly. “Uh, let me think about this. It could be withdrawal symptoms from your suit but it could also be part of the normal sex cycle of an Erian.”
K bit her lip as sudden fear filled her. “You don’t think my body wants to... to engage in sexual reproduction, do you? To have, what do you call it... to have sex?”
“We call it making love when it’s with someone you care for,” Boone said softly. “But to answer your question, I don’t really know, K. I wish I knew more about the female Erian’s cycle. I’d look it up if I could but they’re pretty secretive when it comes to those kinds of things.”
“I don’t know if I could do that. If I could stand it,” K whispered. “I can’t... can’t even imagine it, Boone.”