I couldn't resist. I HAD to share my most favourite part of the entire Psych seasons. This is just super hilarious that I couldn't stop thinking about it XD
Disclaimer: I do not own this video
"Come on, come on..."
Sol was at the edge of her toes as she watched her latest batch of eggs starting to hatch. Her hands clasped tight as her heart prayed that this time it would be a success.
This marked the 4th time she and Twik had tried for smeebies to secure their lineage. The past 3 times were a total failure; all the eggs were stillborn and did not hatch. Worse, the 2nd time she and Kwil tried for smeebies ended up in a miscarriage due to work-related stress.
Sol shuddered at the memory of being fine for one moment, and then the next moment she was starting to bleed between her legs and the eggs just slid out of her womb in front of her eyes the moment the medics removed her bodysuit to try and salvage the pregnancy. If it weren't for the fact that the level-headed Kwil was there by her side throughout the entire ordeal (blame his human-raised emotions for that, since Irken females usually go through birth alone), she would've been screaming at the medics, blaming them for her loss (again, blame her human-raised emotions for that).
Sol shook her head to rid of that memory. This time the eggs are hatching. This time it will work. It will succeed.
Time passed almost too slowly for her liking as the eggs popped and cracked. Sol was almost tempted to just use her claw and ripped the shell apart but she knew it would only break the cycle and interrupt the smeebies' natural process of breathing on their own. She had to restrain herself as she continued watching. Her leg couldn't stop tapping though.
Finally, after what felt like forever, 3 eggs have successfully hatched. 3 beautiful little smeebies crawled out of their shell, wheezing and mewling for their mother. Sol mourned for the loss of the other 2 eggs that failed to hatch, but soon regained composure as she cradled the 3 successful ones in her arms.
All 3 smeebies were born physically perfect. They all inherited the claws and bipeds of their father and had their father's darker green complexion. Sol cooed at them lovingly as she checked their cloacas: 2 males and 1 female. Both males somehow inherited her eyes while the female inherited their father's eyes. Sol could almost cry with joy if not for the fact that the tough part was after the hatching process.
Grabbing a cloth, she gently wiped the smeebies down, cleaning them off of the mucus and tiny shell shards that clung on their skin. She couldn't risk cleaning them in the birth tank until the worst is over. The smeebies, once hatched, had to be given a 30 minutes headstart to see if their will to live was strong enough to adjust to life outside the egg. If they did not last for the first 30 minutes of their lives, they are considered a failure along with the rest of the stillborn eggs. It was a touch-and-go situation.
Wrapping them up in big towels to give them some warmth, Sol cradled them close to her chest, rocking them every so often. The smeebies had stopped mewling and flailing and had settled to cooing and sucking their thumbs.
"You're strong, like your father. You can do this, I know you can. Fight on, fight to live in this world, my little smeebies," Sol whispered as she paced around the room. "I know your father will decide names for you later, but I am going to have a say of name for at least one of you. Hmm...Let's see, I think I'll name you Sonia, how's that?" she tapped the female smeeby's antennas at that, "Yes, I'm definitely giving you the name Sonia. I don't care if they say I'm not supposed to name you before you survive this phase, but I'm naming you anyway, since you are going to survive this. I know you are."
Sol paced the room long enough to wear a hole through the floor before she checked the time. 35 minutes have passed. She smiled. The smeebies have passed the touch-and-go stage. They've survived the post-hatching process. Delighted, she intercommed Twik to come over.
Jaden was in the middle of teaching his latest batch of Irkens when the call came. He excused himself as he went out of the classroom to answer it.
"I can't talk right now, I'm the middle of cla..."
"Jaden, you better come quick!"
Jaden blinked at Kwil's distressed voice at the end of the line.
"Kwil? What's going on?" Jaden asked in concern. Despite years of being told that he'd rather be called by his human name than his Irken name, Jaden insisted on calling him the latter to train him to get used to it since he'll be called that by 'the next gajillion citizens, both Irken and human, that he can't kill'.
"It's...It's Sol," Kwil replied, his distress seemed to make him forget to retort in annoyance at being called his Irken name. "The eggs...She..."
"Understood," Jaden replied and hung up. Re-entering the classroom, he gathered his things and turned to his students, "Class dismissed. Emergency. Remember to study Chapter 69 on Diplomatic Immunity."
Loud thrashing and banging could be heard by the time Jaden arrived at the Tallest quarters. He saw Kwil cradling Twik on his lap and flinched as the sound of somewhat a heavy object was hurled against the door.
"What happened to Twik?" Jaden asked as he checked the unconscious Irken.
"Sol sorta knocked him out in her outburst when he tried to calm her down," Kwil replied awkwardly. "He's probably having a concussion right now, and I'm planning to take him to the medic. May have broken a few ribs of his and dislocated his shoulder, but he'll live."
"So...the hatching didn't go well, huh?"
"Alright. Take him to the medic. I'll handle her."
Kwil nodded and hoisted Twik over his shoulders to bring him to the medic. Jaden watched him leave for a while before bracing himself to enter the room. He felt almost thankful that Sol gave him the passcode to her door in one of her attempts to seduce him as he clicked on the buttons to unlock it.
As soon as the sliding door hissed open, he reflexively dodged an incoming lamp thrown at him. Standing out of harm's way, he saw that the room was completely trashed. Most of the furniture had suffered her wrath and crude claw marks were all over the bed sheets. He could see signs of mucus and egg shells on the surface of the bed and some on the floor.
He turned to see Sol slamming her fists against a mirror next. The poor inanimate object didn't stand a chance. Sol maybe quite small, but she compensated with strength, and the mirror shattered in an instance with one punch. That didn't stop the female Irken from punching it over and over again, and her fists were starting to bleed from the mirror shards getting shoved deeper and deeper into her tiny hands.
"Sol, Sol!" Jaden speed-walked over and grabbed her by the wrists, pulling her away from the mirror. "Sol, that's enough!"
"Let go of me!! Let go of me!!!" Sol struggled in his manhandling. "GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME!!!"
"Sol, CALM DOWN!! You're not helping yourself or the situation by hurting yourself like this!"
"What do you know about my situation?! Why do YOU care?! You're always avoiding me and defy my advances even though I'm your Tallest!! What the HELL do you know?!"
"I know that if you don't stop right now you're gonna risk losing those hands."
"What do I care?! It's not like I can lose anything else!! I can't even do my duty to secure my lineage for my mates!! I'm a Tallest and I can't even produce heirs for my husbands!! I'm a failure! A FAILURE!!!"
"No!" Jaden held her close to his chest. "No, don't say that. You're not a failure. You're a Tallest. You lead your soldiers to battle and saved the world many times over against the Navokai. You watch over your people alongside Twik and Kwil and make tough but fair decisions for their wellbeing. You perform your duties wisely and just. You're not a failure. And I do not train failures. You know that. You're not a failure."
"YES, I AM!! Lemme go!! LEMME GO!!" Sol screamed, struggling in his arms, wanting to push him away, wanting him to leave rather than seeing her so vulnerable right now. This was not the impression she wanted to give his long-time crush. She didn't want him to see her like this.
"No, you're not. You're just a grieving mother who lost a child. You were a mother whose luck was not on your side. You were a victim of fate. That's all you are right now. Not a failure."
Slowly, the female Irken stopped struggling and slumped in the hybrid's arms, her claws gripping tightly at his suit. Her shoulders shook as she started sobbing long and hard into his chest, muffled cries and wails that would break anyone's heart coming out of those lips.
"I...I was so sure..." Sol whimpered. "I was so sure...they would live...They passed the post-hatching phase...They lasted more than 35 minutes...Twik was...was so happy..."
"I know, I know," Jaden whispered as he rubbed her back, crooning at her gently.
"They...They just started wheezing...the moment we decided to clean them properly...S...Sonia started first...One minute she was OK, and the next she...and her brothers..."
Jaden continued to croon at her, letting out a purr that he seemed to have inherited from his mother.
"I watched them die...They died...in my arms...I tried...I tried so hard..."
"Shh, shh, shh..."
The world outside was soon momentarily forgotten as Jaden held Sol in his arms, hushing and purring at her as he rocked her gently to and fro, the room echoing with Sol's tiny sobs and whimpers.
"What if you give birth during the battlefield?"
Christian's words turned out to be prophetic.
Majara's first pangs began in the middle of the battlefield. Small at first, like a bit of a small indigestion, and she paid no attention to it. She fought on for hours--she twisted, dodged and leapt. Sometimes the pains enhanced her strength and she took advantage of those moments. With her psychic powers to plant suggestions into the enemies' minds, she battled through Navokai soldiers, taking out the commander of their soulless squadron. Without guidance the troops ran rampant. Chaos reigned.
Then Majara ducked an incoming shot and felt something in her belly pop. Fluids started to leaked out between her legs and through her suit and flooded down her thighs. Skirmishes became a swirling haze. Opponents were brutally dispatched as Majara lashed out. Pain clouded her perception and she never saw where the bodies fell. She could feel her womb holding and releasing. Slow pulses at first, then more frequent and faster, like a fist tightening. Fighting through the contractions soon became impossible. Her body screamed with an instinct she never felt before and did not understand.
Now on her knees, Majara crawled through smoke, flames and shadows. Shells exploded so close their shrapnel showered her in fire. Still she pressed on. Her amniotic fluids trailed in her wake with traces of her Irken blood in it, like a greenish slime.
"Please..." Majara whispered, "...just a little...further..."
She looked to the left. Then to the right. All around her were the bodies of fallen friends and foes, their blank, misty eyes staring into eternity.
Majara dragged the bodies into a pile. She formed a crude, round shelter and inched underneath, conscious that every single face represented a shattered dream.
She doubled down on her hands and knees. Her forehead touched the ground. The pains were less than a minute apart and turned her vision white. Who was she? Why did she hurt? Why was she here again?
Sightless eyes were everywhere. So many dead...so much white-hot agony. She felt as if her body was going to be ripped in two. Was this supposed to hurt that bad? Her memories retained from her original specimen indicated that Irken histories spoke of childbirth in the old days before cloning as just a process, like how Earth animals would lay or bear their young, with very minimal to no pain, with no lasting effects. Only humans...
Half of what her smeeby is right now.
Majara could feel her cloacas parting. She shakily used her blade to tear that area of clothing apart, revealing her exposed cloacas that began to part wider, as if in a dilation movement. Another contraction caused it to part its widest, exposing the tender folds of her vagina within that was opening and closing as the muscles within worked on its own accord to expel the egg inside her.
"Oh!" Majara dragged air into her lungs, cursing in Irken profanities. Her vision blurred and once or twice she thought she had passed out. A distant muffled ringing was in her ears. Smells of blood, amniotic fluids, gun powder and smoke from the dead bodies and her sweat and hot breath choked the small space.
The pain--the pain was unmatched by any physical agony she experienced in the past.
Afraid, alone, but somehow knowing what to do, Majara screamed out as she started pushing along with the contractions, letting instincts take over her being. The tip of the egg began to crown through the walls of her vagina. Blood and mucus clung to it and came off on her hand in strings as she tried to pry the folds of her womb more for easier access. Majara growled into the burning sensation of her womb stretched to the limit...like a ring of fire. More sweat flowed and fresh tears continuously poured down her cheeks, adding to her discomfort. She groaned, hissed and panted, arching down her back and spreading her legs wider as she pushed as hard as she could.
She wished for dear life and to gods of all religion, both Irken and Earthian, that Christian was there with her to go through this, but it was wishful thinking. He was miles away back at the base and her psychic connection with him was not that strong or close enough to allow him to feel her distress. A few times she was tempted to just break down and cry and admit defeat, but it was not an option. She was an Invader, and she had to be strong in his absence. Her smeeby needs to be born right now and there is no way she could stop this.
Furrows marked where her fingers dug into the dirt. She pushed down some more, a whimper she didn't know she could make escaped her lips. The egg inched out further. She was deaf and blind to the chaos outside her makeshift shelter. Outside did not matter. Her objective--to have this child--became the only thing she cared about. She felt every inch of the egg as it emerged from her body.
And so, with death and despair pressing down upon her back, Majara pushed one last time and cried out as she brought forth life. Her agonized shriek faded to silence--and, almost gently, the egg slid out of her body and fell between her legs.
"Unh..." Majara collapsed onto her side, clutching the egg that fit perfectly in both arms and soon passed out, entombing herself in the mound of bodies, obeying her body's need to succumb to the Land of Nod, not realizing that her fingers had unconsciously reached to the wristband on her left hand to press on the distress call beacon.
Majara's eyes slowly fluttered open as cool air slowly seeped through her makeshift birth sanctuary. She groaned as the light hit her eyes and she slowly looked up to see who it was that rudely roused her from her peaceful slumber.
"I got your distress call signal. Didn't think I'd find..." Dib paused as he saw the egg held possessively in her arms. "Is...Is that...?"
Majara looked down to where he was gesturing and soon remembered the grueling ordeal she had just went through. There was the product of her and Christian's union right there in her arms, cradled safely within her embrace, born just minutes, maybe hours, ago. She just tiredly nodded a reply.
"We'll talk about it later. We better get you back to the base before the Navokai catch wind of this. Come on."
Majara immediately forgot the pain of her delivery at the thought of the Navokai getting their hands on her smeeby. She quickly reached up to take Dib's hand, forcing her tired body to get onto her feet and allowed him to hoist her arm around his shoulder, while her other arm clutched the egg gently to her chest in a protective embrace. Keeping her smeeby alive was all that mattered, and she would do anything to ensure it.
Dib looked at Majara's thighs and was worried that the blood and fluids would attract the Navokai's attention. Making sure that the female Irken had the egg secured in her arms, he checked his surroundings and raced to take cover behind a row of abandoned barracks. Take cover, check, run. Cover, check, run. Hopefully the trail was too irregular to follow. He repeated the random pattern all the way back to base, and only after venturing inside did he feel safe enough to breathe.
Christian ran like the wind towards the medic chambers. Word of his fiance being admitted reached him through his communicator from Dib and he wanted nothing other than to make sure his beloved was alright.
As the sliding door hissed open, Christian saw her lying dwn in bed. Her human disguise was disabled, her antenna laid back and spread against the pillow. She looked like she had ran a marathon, slightly pale from loss of blood, but other than that she was her same old self.
In her arms was the egg, bearing the swirly marks of the dominant genes of the father, as all Irken eggs in the past do to determine the paternal donor. There was no doubt that the mixture of red and green, the features of his hair and eyes, were engraved on that shell, screaming "You're the father" at his face.
He wanted to grab Majara, to scold her for being brash, for going out secretly like this to battle while she is carrying his child, THEIR child, inside her. He wanted to yell into her mind that she was being such an idiot for even thinking of risking her and their baby's life to play hero.
He wanted to say all that and more.
But seeing Majara, his beloved fiance, cradling the egg so tenderly with a look no Irken is capable of having, he lost all heart to even think of doing that. He realized whatever happened had happened, and that she was there right now safe and sound, with their baby. That's all that mattered.
Besides, she had been through enough. It was punishment enough for her. This was not the time or place for him to rub it in.
Majara looked up at him and he could see those no-nonsense eyes she often portrayed when she tried to be strong. A small smile creased along her lips as he heard her whispered weakly, "Look, it's our smeeby. It's safe."
Christian gave her a sad look of pity. How it must've hurt her so badly to go through the birth alone without him by her side. He felt like kicking himself for not being there for her, for having to let her go through the birth alone out there surrounded by death and destruction. Natural birth, for an Irken like her who has been brought up to learn that artificial creation of life was the way to go, must have been frightfully painful for her, and he wasn't even there to help her ease that pain.
His musing was broken when he saw her eyes melt into a pool of tears and her facial expression collapsed into that of a child who was caught doing something terribly wrong.
"I'm sorry...I'm sorry...I'm so sorry...It hurts so bad...It really hurts..."
Christian speed-walked to her and knelt down beside her at the bed, hugging her close in a tight embrace, rocking her gently to and fro, letting her sob in his chest, allowing her these few moments of vulnerability that was privy between them to share.
"Stupid...Stupid...You're so stupid...You're so stupid, you know that...?" Christian whispered affectionately over and over again in her mind, his tone telling her that there was nothing to be sorry about, that her pain was finally over.
They had their baby. They were a family. That's all that mattered.
Majara slammed the button to disconnect her call to Irken base, swearing in Irken. Her SIR unit seemed to have flinched a little from her outburst, but otherwise it had not moved from its spot.More to come...
The familiar sound of a ladder leaned gently against her window broke her out of her fuming. Unlike the underground lab base that the Irken she was assigned to eliminate had, she made no effort to hide her Irken technology. Nobody visits her home anyway, and even if they do, a simple click of a few buttons was enough for her to cloak herself and the entire place with its camouflage shield to let it blend with its surroundings, making it look like an abandoned home, and no one would be the wiser.
But then again, humans here in this planet are too stupid to even notice a huge-ass computer screen the size of a car and a sentient robot even if it screamed at their faces anyway. Proven perfectly so the last time she tried to blast Zim out into oblivion.
"I'm not in the mood, Chris-human."
Christian slowly ascended the ladder and climbed through the window. If it were anyone, they would've either found themselves in an empty room or got blasted out with a plasma gun. Not him. Christian was special. Well, at least to her, anyway. She couldn't understand or put words to describe this feeling she had towards her, but she knew she couldn't treat him the same contemptous way she treated other humans.
She has yet to determine whether it was actually love or not, but one thing's for sure, she does not hate him.
"You sound troubled," Christian's concerned voice rang in her head the moment he touched her wrist. Majara made no attempt to shove him away.
"Just another rough day at work, that's all. Majara is fine."
Majara felt a gentle ripple of emotion that told her Christian was not convinced. His raised brow further accentuates it.
"Fine, fine, Chris-human. That stupid Zim-filth has outsmarted me again!" Majara sighed and proceed to elaborately describe her latest plan to assassinate Zim by triggering the school's fire alarm and trap him in the toilet, and to rig the emergency water sprinklers to put it to continuous flow so that he'll die of allergic reaction from it. She went on to further elaborate grudgingly that Zim somehow saw through her plan and rigged back the water sprinklers to set it to unable to sprinkle water at all, though it did cause the water pump to explode from the interrupted pressure, but somehow he got away unscathed.
If only she knew that Dib, who had learned to spot abnormalities from his years of experience hunting down Zim, was the one who saw the kinks on the toilet doors indicating a possible entrapment, and subtly hinted to the spaztic male Irken about Majara's "diabolical plan to ensnare the mighty ZIM", as he put it.
"And The Tallest didn't even want to accept my explanation and said that they were disappointed of me failing such a mission that 'my original specimen I was cloned from would've completed in a heartbeat'. The nerve! After all I've done, this is the gratitude they give me?!"
"Maybe it's about time you let it go, give it up," Christian suggested with a encouraging smile. "Maybe he's really not worth your time."
"Never! I'm Majara, one of the most powerful psychic Invaders of all Irk! And I've been given the solemn duty by the Tallest! An Irken does not desert their orders! I WILL kill ZIM!"
Christian sighed and shook his head, chuckling weakly. If anything that this she-Invader share in common with Zim was their stubbornness, tenacity and determination. He had long since known from the day he knew her that she was an assassin, and Zim was her target to eliminate. He wasn't agreeable of Majara killing Zim, or murder in general, but he knew she meant business especially with her heavy artillery and knew better than to interfere with her work.
"Well, at least lemme help you get rid of all that stress," Christian offered. "I'm sure you can't work in these tense conditions, can you?"
As much as Majara wanted to deny it, she did feel a little stressed out. Her joints were giving her the aches, not to mention the throbbing headache she was having thanks to enduring the Tallests' ranting and raving. She sighed and nodded tiredly.
"You got any some sort of lotion or oil about?"
"Huh? Why?" Majara eyed him curiously.
"Just wanna show you how we humans relax after a long day's work," Christian winked in an almost devious nature. "Don't worry, it'll be great, trust me."
Majara eyed at him some more, suspicious even, before sending her SIR unit to retrieve the Vortian lubricant she had in her cleaning chambers. Being that she could not bathe by human means due to the same allergic affliction she shared with Zim--and as a female, she was entitled to vanity cleaning--she had acquired a steady order of Vortian lubricant to indulge in other than the usual dry particle-cleaning her Irken bath tank provided.
Christian knelt down to accept the bottle of lubricant with a nod of thanks to the little SIR unit and took one of Majara's longer claws to speak.
"You're going to need to lie down on the bed and be naked for this."
"What? Why?" Majara exclaimed awkwardly. "Why must I be naked for this relaxation you speak of?"
"It's just how it is," Christian replied. "It's called massaging, which includes skin contact, and I can't very well massage you properly with your tight-fitting suit on now, can I?"
Majara bit her lip. The only time she was ever actually naked in front of Christian was the day Christian discovered her true identity. She had just returned from another failed attempt to kill Zim that involved garbage chutes and soot-filled chimneys when it happened.
One moment she was turning off her human hologram disguise and stripping herself bare to prepare to enter the bath tank, the next moment she found herself staring at Christian looking at her through the window wide-eyed and slack-jawed at her Irken form. She contemplated killing him to hide her secret, but surprise overtook her instead when Christian grabbed the nearest ladder, climbed into the window and made short gasps and noises a mute usually does, looking as if he had just found the Holy Grail, whatever that human expression meant.
"No wonder you can read my mind!"
That was the ultimatum that sealed their somewhat odd friendship.
Majara finally sighed in defeat as she took off her gear and her body suit before slowly lying down on bed. It's not like he was going to do anything worse. Even if he did, her plasma gun was just nearby.
"No, lie down on your stomach," Christian said in her mind, and waited for her to comply before nodding in satisfaction. "Much better. Now just relax and don't think about anything."
Majara closed her eyes and soon felt the warm Vortian lubricant poured onto her body in a elaborate zig-zag fashion, then a pair of warm hands against her slightly cold clammy skin, working their way along and around her thin, slender frame. She felt gentle fingers pressing and rubbing against her tense spots and pressure points, easing them down and just caressing them away as if they've never been there.
"Mmh...What--mhh--What technique is this...? Nnh...How do--aah--How do you know just--nnah--where to press and--nggh--squeeze me...? Unhh..." Majara was mildly surprised that she was able to make such noises.
"I aspire to become a professional masseuse," Christian replied as he helped get rid of the kinks on her lower back. "I've been taking health courses and massage therapy classes on the side."
"Mmh...But...But why...? Surely--aah--with your intellect--mmhh--you can do any Earthian profession...ughh..."
"Personal experience," Christian gave a gentle press on her shoulderblade, "I was born premature, you see. Doctors were certain that I will not survive, but a massage therapist proved them otherwise. Massage twice a day, with medication in between, and I was out of the incubator sooner than the doctors predicted."
"It did not--ooh--cure your vocal defect though...nnhh..."
"You'll have to blame genetics for that. I guess it's the price I had to pay to live."
"Your human chemistry theory of equivalent exchange cannot be applied here."
"I guess not, but that's how it is."
"Such--mmhh--genetic inferiority," Majara mumbled. "Makes me--nnh--glad that we do not practice such primitive--mmh--methods to produce young."
"You'd be surprised just how good these 'primitive methods' are," Christian replied as he pressed down a kink on Majara's inner thigh, earning a loud moan from her, making him flinch. Was that her sensitive spot?
"W...Why are you stopping, Chris-human?" Majara opened her eyes to look up at him, failing to realise that a tint of dark bluish-green, the blushing kind, was strewn across her face.
Christian swallowed and shook his head, continuing to massage that part. Loud moan after another escaped the Irken's lips, her antenna furled backwards, twitching ever so slightly, her claws gripping at the sheets. The more he did it, the tighter his crotch felt. Christian blushed hard.
Was he turned on, and by an alien, no doubt? Was he some kind of xenophile?
But the way the female Irken spread her legs to allow him to massage more at that part; the way she trembled, whines and moans escaping those quivering, panting lips; the way her eyes fluttered, half-lidded as every press and squeeze on her sensitive spots made her twitch and jolt with pleasure; the way her cheeks just get darker as blood rushed to colour them...It was such an irresistible sight somehow.
"Wh...What are you...doing to me...Chris-human...aannhh?" Majara whimpered. "I...I feel...mmnaahh...so weird...like I'm burning up..."
Christian swallowed again. Dare he venture into this taboo area where whatever he was going to do transcends the boundaries of human-alien interaction?
"I'm...giving you a more advance version of massage therapy," Christian worded his thoughts carefully as he caressed the female Irken's thighs. "That is...if you'll let me..."
He was expecting Majara, by the way she pouted and contemplate, to say 'No' and kick him out of the house. He was expecting her to cry (if Irkens are capable of crying) and scold him and tell him to keep his hands off her. He was expecting her to at least decline and hide under the covers or something. Anything to give him second thoughts about what he was about to do.
None of that happened.
Majara's nod and his trembling hand reaching over to massage and tease her cloacas proved to be their undoing.
Majara groaned as her eyes fluttered open. Her groggy mind slowly tried to piece back what was she doing naked in bed, pins and needles from the waist down and feeling like she had just returned from space and back, and with Christian equally naked by her side...
She turned around to face the young mute boy who slept beside her, his arm around her waist. She stared at him in bewilderment at first, at how they ended up naked as a smeet together in her hover bed, trying to make sense of this.
'Ah yes...' she thought. 'Chris-human was giving this... relaxation technique, this...massage...Then he was touching me in a way that made me feel weird and burned up...then...then we...'
Majara blushed hard again. She started to remember how Christian started teasing her cloacas; how his skillful fingers managed to part them to reveal her most private insides, his other hand massaging and rubbing at her breasts; how his tongue trailed down her neck as he pushed his fingers deep into her womb; and how he made her look at his huge penis before entering...
Christian's tiny groan as he started to stir as well broke her out of her muse. She watched him as his eyes slowly blinked open, staring at her with those half-lidded green orbs for a moment or two before they snap wide open in realization and him shooting to an upright position.
She watched in partial amusement as he wanted to say something but didn't dare to reach over to touch her to let himself be heard. He fumbled about the hover bed until he literally toppled over it with a loud crash to the floor, then went on his hands and knees, bowing over and over again, making short gagging-like sounds from his defected vocals as he tried to apologize. He even made those funny human sign languages all mute people do but then face-palmed when he thought she couldn't understand them (though in reality she does after memorizing an entire handbook of American sign-languages) and went back to his profused bowing again.
Majara couldn't understand somehow at her lack of anger over this. If she had thought this carefully, and what with studying about human sex ed, she was technically being raped. She had every right to be angry. She should be yelling at him for being a beast, for hurting her and causing her such shame, and either kill him or blast him out to kingdom come.
But she was not hurting. She was not feeling shame. She was not even the slightest bit angry at all.
In fact, she had never felt such pleasure in all her life.
Every gentle touch and massage on her breasts that made her tingle, every thrust Christian made with his fingers inside her that made her shiver with delight, every jolt of pleasurable electricity that went through her spine whenever he jabbed something inside her womanhood, every tug and nibble at her antenna whenever he made her go on all fours that made her brain numb, every moment when she felt something inside her explode over and over again that sent her whole body into overdrive...every single part of that moment played back in her mind like a broken CD in a eternal loop.
And it was rivoting.
"Calm down, Chris-human," she said in a commanding tone to bring the young man back to reality, offering her claw to him so he could talk to her. "It's OK, really."
"I'm so sorry!" Christian's loud plea boomed in her head. "I didn't mean to...I dunno what got into me! I'm so, so sorry! I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..."
"Say another 'sorry' again and I will use my plasma gun on you."
"But...this is a bad thing for me to do this to you, even in human standards! Th-There must be something I can do to make it up to you!"
Majara's lips creased into a devious smile.
"Could you do it again?"