Raise your weapon
I counted my toes.
Nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen-
"I ran out of toes," I said, wriggling my littlest toe. I didn't know I could do that.
Liam looked at me sideways from his desk, warily. "Use fingers then."
"I don't want to use my fingers," I rebutted, spreading them apart and placing them over my exposed belly. My fingertips couldn't reach even midway to my belly button from the sides. I sighed.
Either I was tiny, or this was a big baby. Well, Liam is at least a foot taller than me. I arched back slightly, and I felt him rolling inside. I winced, feeling slightly nauseous, and smiled.
The first time I felt him move was when I lying on the floor naked, covered in cum while his good father stood over me, with that hunger in his eyes.
I had seen enough, heard enough to guess what was going on in Liam's brain as he looked down on me.
Then I felt a little kick. It was such a nonsensical thing, that if it hadn't happened again, I'd have thought I had imagined it. Suddenly, I felt ready. And Liam backed down.
After that, every time my baby moved, I would talk to him in my head. He was such a wonderful, interesting thing. He calmed me down like nothing had ever before. When I felt Liam too much, I turned my mind to my baby. He kept him out of my mind, at least, by giving me something to do.
I stepped off the bed, pulling the gown tightly around me. I placed my hands over Liam's shoulders. He tensed up when he felt me, so I massaged them until he calmed down, then ran my fingers through his hair.
"You're blond," I commented, suddenly noticing the roots of his hair. "I thought you were the odd one out."
"Mine is different from Alex and Bam's," he said, not looking up.
"Yeah, they're more sandy, this is way lighter... But that means you do your eyebrows as well," I said slyly.
"Yes." He sounded slightly uncomfortable.
"You're a sneaky bastard," I giggled. This was too good to pass up. "Wait a second- that means you look like your cousin Karl!"
The only time I had met Dr. Karl was at Liam's house that day when his mother made me stay for lunch. He had come with his wife, an icy-looking lady who had stayed quiet most of the time while he talked. Karl was a severe looking man, with almost the same sharp features as Liam and an even sharper tongue. I hated him on sight, and I was sure the feeling was reciprocated.
Liam snorted, still not looking at me.
"We're first cousins, that's why. Our fathers were twins."
"And Benjy?"
"He's my second cousin, but I grew up in their house for a while, so we just ended up 'being' brothers."
"Ah," I recalled. "No wonder Karl kept talking about genetics that day, I thought it was because it was his speciality or something. Am I going to be the one to end this rare gene pool? Oh no..." I fake cried, throwing my head on his shoulder.
He pulled me down onto his lap, and I settled, trying to balance myself by wrapping my arms around his neck.
"I think you're an improvement," he whispered, kissing my nose.
"Have you gone to the doctor?" I asked suddenly.
He looked away, clicking his tongue in annoyance. I hummed angrily, pulling his chin back. He now had a pained expression on his face.
"It's not necessary. I have it for sure. Don't you believe me?"
"Liam, I'm not saying that. You still haven't shown any symptoms-"
"I'm not going to wait around for symptoms."
"Your siblings are clear-"
"Have you seen my father?"
"Have you considered another diagnosis?"
"Don't you trust Karl?"
"From your story, he's the one that put this situation on you in the first place," I hissed.
"That's why I'm going to keep doing what I do," he replied. "Are you with me, or not?"
I stood up, crossing my arms. "What does it look like?" I asked softly.
He stared back, silent for a moment, then broke into a smile.
"It looks like I got lucky, for once," he replied.
He turned to his screen, and smiled again. "Oh. Make that twice."
"Really?" I asked, interested.
"Guess who's invited to attend the board of director's meeting tomorrow afternoon," he pointed at the screen, and I read the email.
"Hmm." I scanned the list of recipients then turned to kiss his forehead. "Liam... Please... Maybe you'll be lucky a third time?"
He laughed, but it was a sad laugh, and held my hands against my belly, and kissed them.
"Babydoll, I don't see the point of it. It doesn't matter if I'm lucky the third time."
The lamplight cast odd shadows over his face, accentuating the cluster of faint crow's feet stemming the corners of his downcast eyes.
Did anyone ever look at you, the way that I do? I wondered.
I traced his jaw lightly with my finger, grazing the darker stubble. He was always clean shaven; I had never seen him grow out his beard. The roughness sent little shivers up my hand, so I ran a thumb over the outline of his lips, and he bent his head back, lazily.
"What are you doing..." he muttered, but had an amused expression on his face.
"I'm looking at you," I said softly. "We get so caught up, I don't think we've ever sat and looked at each other enough."
"I look at you long enough. You don't need to look at me."
I raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Why?"
"Because you don't need to remember the face of someone who's going to die."
"Actually, your death sounds like a fine reason to start memorizing your face." I made my tone standoffish, but still felt my throat tighten.
Why did he do this to me?
Because now the only way to hurt you is by hurting myself.
replied his voice in my mind.
I swallowed the lump in my throat, and kissed his forehead. "Are you... Do you believe in hell?" I asked.
"Would you like me to be poetic about it?" he asked snidely.
"Answer truthfully," I said seriously.
"I don't know. If it exists, I don't care. If it doesn't, I don't care."
"Hell is where you'll be tortured eternally," I pressed. He rolled his eyes.
"So they say. And? I'm already leaving this place. It's bad enough."
I gasped, stifling a sob. He tutted.
"Little rabbit... Don't be like this," he said, reaching a hand to cup my face. I turned, and kissed his hand.
"Only you make me cry," I said into his hand.
"I know. I like that I can. Sick, aren't I?" he grinned.
I smiled, despite myself.
I bent down to catch his lips in a kiss, and he was ready, forcefully rubbing my lips against his teeth. It cut my lips, and I felt his tongue against the warm open cut, tasting the salt...
"I love you," I whispered, moving away for a bit. He stared back, looking slightly annoyed that we broke contact. I bought his hands around my waist, and opened my gown. I looked down between my full, heavy breasts, to my belly, round and stretched. I trailed the thin, dark line down the middle of my abdomen with a finger. He followed my finger, then looked up, blinking languidly. I felt him put a hand between my legs, and I squeezed it, enjoying his cold hand.
"I love you," I repeated. "You made me into this. Let me do something for you."
"So, my little rabbit is feeling playful again?" he asked, getting up. He now dominated over my frame, but I grasped his elbows, and pushed him back, gently yet forcefully.
"Why?" he asked. He was still smiling, albeit confusedly.
"Take it as a birthday present from me," I said, randomly throwing in a reason.
"You don't even know my birthday," he said, raising an eyebrow.
"When is it, then?" I asked, slowly pushing him back.
"You're already a month too late, silly girl," he laughed, as I head-butted his chest softly.
"Let me," I insisted.
He threw his hands up, as if surrendering, and walked backwards to sit on the bed. I followed him as he lay down, and I settled over him, straddling him.
"You try so much to teach me," I said, pulling up his t-shirt. "Just... Let me do... Let me serve you."
I ran my hands slowly from his broad shoulders, down his chest, to his navel, feeling the cut of his muscles, the feel of his skin, the rise of his breath.
On a whim I licked around his navel, and he jumped, clearly not expecting it.
"Relax," I cooed.
I undid his jeans, slowly moving backwards, caressing his hips and thighs with my hands, bringing myself down as low as possible to his body. He moaned as my breasts and face brushed past his member, and I felt him tense, wriggling to undo the rest of his clothes and reaching for my shoulders.
"Please," I pleaded, and he stopped, settling for just helping me remove his jeans and boxers.
I never had him this calm before. It made me slightly afraid. But I pressed on.
His dick was hardening, hot in my hands, and I ran my hands up and down slowly. The smell, warmth, and most of all, his look, as I jerked him off, aroused me. He was so intensely focused- he was always intensely focused - but this was the first time the spotlight was on me, and I felt every wave of attention he focused on me. And it felt good, that I meant so much...
I made little noises as I played, bringing his head down to rest lightly against my folds, or giving it a tiny lick, or kissing up the length of his cock. I tugged and rubbed his balls, and out of the corner of my eye, I noticed him grabbing fistfuls of the bedsheet, his hands trembling slightly...
When I felt it ready, I pushed my wet pussy against his cock, feeling it in my folds.
