The Host

After several days of fierce but intermittent clashes, the enemy was in full retreat. Following fast on a dense front of cover fire from their air support, Yeva's company surged forward and overwhelmed the enemy's mobile command post. The victory did not come without heavy losses on both sides. No victory ever did.

The events of the week preceding her present deployment seemed like a vat dream. She fought with the same reckless ferocity that the company had written into her genes, her muscles, and her mind, never fearing that she might be abandoned again or retired upon returning to base. In the lull between battles, though, while technicians repaired her power armor and tended to her injuries, she wondered.

She wondered about the alien pod that had violated her body and planted its offspring inside her. She wondered about the company doctor who had raped her, and probably countless other soldiers before her. She wondered about the creature that had emerged from her womb in a riot of agony and ecstasy. What had become of it, or the doctor?

With the battle done, perhaps she would find out soon enough. They collected the prisoners, casualties, and salvage like they did after every victory. This done, Yeva found herself back on the transport with the remnants of her platoon and another. Her platoon leader, Tatiana 3692, had died in the final assault. She kept thinking to comment on it, but did not. No one spoke of the dead.

The ride back should have taken two hours. When twice that amount of time had passed, the older soldiers started exchanging ominous looks through their visors. The transport finally started descending only half an hour before it would have exhausted its fuel reserves. A soldier with command markings on her armor perked up and, a moment later, briefed them.

"I am Tatiana 6843," she said, her voice calm and clear in every headset. "All soldiers present are hereby reassigned to Platoon 9 under my command." As she spoke, their visors displayed an updated chain of command. Yeva was startled to find herself a squad leader.

"We will retake the base from a hostile force," Tatiana continued. "All friendly personnel on base are assumed killed or captured. The use of all antipersonnel and antivehicle weaponry is authorized. This is not an exercise. Perform your final equipment checks. We deploy in five minutes."

No one asked any questions. No one discussed the fate of the support personnel on base. They just ran diagnostics on their armor and weapons. Their transport touched down and the platoon exited through the rear doors into the capacious hangar, where two other units had already formed up and several more were deploying.

Tatiana led them into the residential facility, where they split up into squads and painstakingly swept the abandoned barracks. Nothing there looked particularly out of place, but then, all of the soldiers have either been away at the battle or under care in the medical facility.

"Yeva 2547," Tatiana's voice sounded in Yeva's helmet, "have you completed your sweep?"

"Yes, Sir," Yeva replied.

"Squad 3 is taking over for you. As soon as they arrive, report to my location with your squad."

"Acknowledged." Yeva did not even get a chance to brief her squad before their relief arrived, and without exchanging any words, she departed and homed in on the platoon leader's position.

She was in the barracks that housed Yeva's old unit. Squad 1 admitted them into the perimeter, and Yeva found Tatiana standing beside a bunk. Yeva's bunk. The two who slept above and below her were dead.

"Did you leave your bunk like this, Soldier?" Tatiana asked, indicating with a nod at the thermal blanket strewn across the molded foam mattress. Her footlocker had been dragged out from under the bunk and now dangled half-open from its twisted rails. Those rails could withstand half a tonne of weight or more, and Yeva doubted she could bend them without the assistance of power armor.

"Soldier!" Tatiana's voice carried only the slightest note of irritation. "I asked you a question."

"No, Sir." Yeva tore her gaze from the wreck of her bunk. She stared at her platoon leader's face through the translucent visor.

After what seemed like a long time, Tatiana nodded. "The facility is secured, but the company is sending scientists to analyze this bunk."

When the science team arrived with its own elite security, Yeva's platoon was sent away for debriefing. Scuttlebutt said the entire staff of the base, ten humans and a platoon of soldiers, was missing and presumed dead.

A company man asked Yeva about her bunk again. She honestly did not know what had happened to it, and replied as much, but kept her educated guesses to herself. The last time she volunteered information, she ended up in solitary confinement, then in the hands of that doctor.

All the same, Tatiana detained her until the briefing had ended, then commanded her to follow. Command-grade soldiers were quartered in pairs, separate from the grunts. Their rooms were tiny and spare, but nominally private.

When she noticed that room they stopped at had been her deceased platoon leader's quarters, Yeva was not sure if she should be more surprised by how sorry she felt, or the fact that she had remembered the room number at all. Tatiana waved her in and left her standing beside the door.

Tatiana began stripping out of her duty uniform. Yeva watched, keenly aware of a growing arousal deep inside her. Down to the skin-tight gray baselayer, Tatiana tossed her uniform into the cleaning chute and turned around to face Yeva, arms akimbo. "Take off your clothes," she said equably.

Yeva just stared at her. Tatiana narrowed her ice blue eyes and strode up to Yeva. Like most command-grades and specialists, she was shorter and more slender than the average soldier, though still muscular and hairless. She reached out and tapped a sequence on the door panel, which emitted a locking tone.

"Soldiers obey without hesitation or doubt," Tatiana said. "The ones who do not get retired."

"Sir, are you hoping to retire me, or fuck me?" Yeva asked, surprised by her own audacity.

The smile that she received in response was more startling. "I do not hope," Tatiana replied. "I get what I want, and what I want depends a lot on your compliance. Take. Off. Your. Clothes. All of it. "

Yeva unzipped her duty uniform jacket and shrugged out of it. The baselayer beneath strained over her full breasts, which did not return to their previous state of virtual nonexistence after her brief pregnancy. Satisfied that she was cooperative now, Tatiana leaned back against her bunk. Yeva removed her boots, then her trousers, then the tremendously tight baselayer.

"Come to me," Tatiana ordered, running a long-fingered hand idly over a nipple that showed through the fabric of her own baselayer. Yeva stepped up, looming over her commanding officer both by virtue of posture and stature. Tatiana's hand closed around one of Yeva's breasts.

The friction of Tatiana's palm against her nipple and the pressure of cool fingers on her breast flooded Yeva with pleasure. Her head rolled back, her eyes slid shut, and her lips parted with a soft moan. A warm, wet suction on her other nipple drew a gasp from her and she opened her eyes to see Tatiana's mouth latched onto her breast. The sight was strangely hypnotic, and one of Yeva's hands came up to caress the smooth skin of her commanding officer's scalp.

Tatiana growled and bit down on Yeva's nipple, simultaneously pulling back her hand to strike the other breast. Yeva's body jerked and convulsed with the sharp double-tap of pain. Meanwhile, Tatiana's other hand has worked between Yeva's thighs and parted her labia. The tips of her fingers found the vulva slippery with arousal and dipped in - then back out, then in, further and further. Yeva's breath hitched in her throat when two fingers slipped deep inside her and curled back, expertly locating that elusive spot. The thumb of the same hand braced firmly against the clitoris, rubbing mercilessly.

Yeva clenched her teeth, her hips rocking toward the stimulation. Tatiana went back to suckling her nipple as she thrusted harder and faster. Yeva's breathing grew urgent and quick. She braced both of her hands on the frame of the bunk in front of her, arms and legs tensing against the building tide of pleasure that broke over her so suddenly she cried out.

Tatiana's fingers stayed inside her, but she released the nipple between her lips and stood up straight. Even at her full height, she must tilt her head back to look Yeva in the eyes, but there was nothing subservient in her piercing blue gaze. "Well done, Soldier." She pitched her voice low, like an animal's growl. Her fingers curled against the spot, and Yeva moaned, her head still reeling from the sudden and violent orgasm.

"I know you are not sated. I would not be, either." Tatiana's free hand unzipped her own baselayer, sliding the fastener slowly from throat to crotch. "We are soldiers, made to endure, and our appetites are great." She eased her fingers out of Yeva at last, sliding the heavily lubricated digits past her clitoris as they go. "Kneel," she commanded, shucking the baselayer to expose a pale body, like Yeva's, completely devoid of hair. Her nipples were engorged, sharp little pink nubs on nearly flat breasts.

Yeva sanks to her knees as Tatiana dropped her baselayer to the ground and steps out of the garment - forward, putting her pubic mound right up against Yeva's nose. The air in the small quarters already smelled of sex, but now Yeva's nostrils were filled with the scent of arousal. She knew exactly what she needed to do, and almost went straight to it before remembering the reprimand her last proactive touch had brought. She looked up, waiting.

"Lick and suck. Keep your hands to yourself - however you like." Not waiting for Yeva to comply this time, Tatiana lifted her right leg up to rest the muscular thigh on Yeva's shoulder, putting her vulva right up against her subordinate's lips. "I will let you know if you are doing anything wrong."

Yeva swallowed the retort that came unbidden to her tongue, using it instead to part Tatiana's flushed labia. She had tasted her own sexual fluids before, but to lap it directly from the warm, soft folds of another soldier was another experience altogether. Tatiana's response to her touch was immediate and unrestrained, hips rolling forward, head tilting back, mouth falling open to emit a long, tortured moan.

A jolt of giddy pleasure shot from Yeva's mouth down to her abdomen. Her tongue grew bolder, sweeping firmly between labia, swirling around the clitoris, even dipping into the vaginal canal before being forced out by a quick squeeze of the muscles that ring it. She could not stop staring at her commanding officer, who in turn could not seem to hold still.

Titiana's hands roamed over her body, pinched her nipples and twisted them, dropped to Yeva's smooth scalp to nudge her in this direction or that, then lifted over her head to grasp the rails bordering the top bunk. Bracing herself thus, she swung her other leg over Yeva's shoulder and crossed her ankles behind her back. She squeezed her thighs together just enough to trap Yeva's head against her dripping sex.

Yeva redoubled her efforts, dragging the flat of her tongue over Tatiana's clitoris - more prominent now than when she first touched it - again and again. Tatiana rocked her hips harder and faster, legs tensing around Yeva's head enough to block out her rapid breathing and incoherent words.

Being pressed so close to her lover and partially restrained suddenly brought back to Yeva her experiences inside the alien pod which had held her captive. Her hand dropped into her lap, fingers rubbing feverishly at her clitoris, fortunately still well-lubricated from Tatiana's attention earlier.

If Tatiana noticed, she gave no indication as she ground herself against Yeva's mouth with ever-greater enthusiasm. Yeva took advantage of her position to close her lips around the clitoral hood and suck with all her might. Just like that, Tatiana went still, her vulva twitching rhythmically against Yeva's lips. Then she relaxed, her thighs falling away from Yeva's ears, the sound of her gasping suddenly loud and intimate again.

She took a moment to catch her breath before dismounting Yeva's face and flopping over onto the lower bunk. Yeva remained on her knees, licking her lips and studying Tatiana's body, sprawled languidly across the sheets.

"Tatiana 3692, your former platoon leader," said Tatiana 6843, her eyes fixed on the underside of the bunk above her, "was my lover. She taught me everything. About the company, about soldiers, about sex." She rolled onto her side, cheek propped up on one hand. "Not much point in me trying to pass along those first two, I guess. The last, though..."

"Why me?" The words had left Yeva's mouth before she had a chance to contemplate their wisdom.

Tatiana's gaze drops to Yeva's breasts, and her lips quirk into a half-smile. "Maybe I was curious, no? Get over here so I can satisfy my curiosity some more."

Yeva obeyed, climbing onto the bed gingerly for fear that the frame might not support their combined weight. It was a ridiculous thought, as all the bunks were made to the same specifications, and some heavy weapons specialists weighted easily twice as much as Yeva.

She lay on her side and rested her head on one folded arm. Tatiana cupped one of her breasts and squeezed it, then hefts it in her hand as if estimating its mass. The casual touch soothed Yeva's nerves - she had not even realized she was so keyed up.

"Besides, you were convenient," Tatiana adds. "You had been singled out already, no one would think it odd if I wished to question or discipline you." Her hand slid down over the perfect, toned muscles of Yeva's torso and caressed her pelvis. "You do need some displining, after all. I do not know where you learned to talk back to your superiors, but that can get you retired."

Yeva watched Tatiana's hand move across her body, fascinated. "I thought they would have retired me as soon as they were done running tests on me, so I did not think I had much to lose." She glanced back up to find Tatiana watching her face. "As for you, I knew you wanted me."

"Impudent," said Tatiana, though she did not sound particularly offended. Her fingers traced Yeva's inguinal crease and dip between her legs. "Accurate, however. You need to learn to play the good soldier, if you want to survive."

"Soldiers are not made to survive." Yeva interrupted herself with a gasp when Tatiana's fingertips found her clitoris again. Her legs parted of their own accord to accommodate the welcomed intrusion. "We are made to obey, to fight, to - oh..." Tatiana was working her fingers inside Yeva again, none too gently, as if intentionally trying to derail her sentence. " - to die."

"But you are a survivor," Tatiana insisted. She withdrew her hand only to add a third finger on the next stroke. "I can see it in your eyes." The fourth and smallest finger joined in on the next.

Yeva did not argue this time. She could only pant softly as she stared down at Tatiana's right hand, lodged half-way inside her, knuckles pressing insistently now against her slick opening.

Tatiana eased off the pressure just a little and braced her thumb against Yeva's clitoris, rubbing it in small circles. "Also," she said off-handedly, "you killed Doctor Denisovich."

Yeva might have disagreed, except that Tatiana started twisting her hand right then. Even though she had - she was certain - experienced penetration by girthier appendages, the knuckles still bought their passage with pain sharp enough to take her breath away. But then Tatiana eased off again. Yeva could not actually see how much of the other soldier's hand she had taken in, but it felt enormous. Despite the pain, her body was a riot of desperate arousal.

"They say childbirth makes this easier." Tatiana shifted on the bed to give herself a little more room, then rotated her hand further, tucking in the thumb. "You are lucky. I had to learn to take this the hard way." The ridges of her fingers passing over Yeva's inner walls pushed Yeva toward another orgasm. "It is better if you do not fight it - but that really is not like you, is it?" So saying, Tatiana pushed her hand forward yet again. The last few centimeters, where her hand narrows toward the wrist slid home with little resistance. This also put one of her knuckles right up against the spot.

Yeva hovered on the edge of climax, her entire body humming with tension. She was breathing as if she had just run ten kilometers in malfunctioning power armor. Within seconds, she was trembling from the effort of fending off the orgasm.

Tatiana chuckled and moved her wrist just a fraction. All fine articulations of her beautifully engineered hand followed their intended functions and moved inside Yeva, one knuckle moving off of her G-spot to be replaced by another. Yeva stifled her scream with her own hand, but scream she did as her body convulsed around Tatiana's hand, milking it for something it would not supply.

Yeva did not come down from that orgasm at once, for Tatiana continued rolling her wrist as if stirring a cup with a very small spoon. Yeva's cry terminated in a ragged gasp. Her body arched off of the bed, but Tatiana shoved her back down with a hand on her abdomen - pressing from outside what her other hand was pressing from inside - and then kept it there. For all Yeva's strength, she could only squirm under the smaller soldier's weight.

When the orgasm finally ended, Yeva's mind slowly returned to the awareness that she was not out of her predicament yet. Titiana had no intention of stopping, even though she almost assuredly knew Yeva would find the continued stimulation unbearable. In fact, judging by her smile, she was counting on it.

As Yeva's pelvic muscles fatigued, Tatiana was able to unclench her hand just a little, pressing her fingers outward against Yeva's much-abused cunt. Meanwhile, her other hand played up and down Yeva's body, often lingering on her breasts but occasionally massaging her G-spot from without. After five more minutes of this routine, she managed to wring yet another orgasm from Yeva.

It came as no surprise, just a helpless drop from a grueling climb against her overstimulated nerves. Yeva's breath hitched, and then hitched again. Tears crowded her eyes and slid free. Though clouded with pleasure and pain, Yeva's mind suddenly signalled danger, a sensation no soldier ever ignored. She could not pinpoint the sensory input that had set it off, however. "Stop," she said.

"Finally had enough?" Tatiana teased, pushing her hand deeper, up against Yeva's cervix.

"No..." The word came out as a moan. "Something is wrong."

The mattress shifted from some additional weight, though neither soldier had moved. Tatiana turned, and whatever she saw - beyond Yeva's field of vision - made her go tense, which did not help when she started to withdraw her hand. The sharp stab of pain made Yeva grunt, and a fraction of a second later she it, though only blurrily through her tears: a long, orange-colored tendril.

It appeared organic and motile. It moved incredibly fast, latching onto Tatiana's free wrist and yanking her toward the foot of the bed. The hand that had been lodged inside Yeva pulled free with a wet sucking sound and a blaze of agony. Tatiana went tumbling toward the tendril and fell right into the rest of the creature to which it belonged.

When Yeva blinked her eyes clear, she knew exactly what she was looking at. The amorphous thing grappling Tatiana was many times the size of the creature that had forced its way out of Yeva's womb, but not nearly as large as the pod that had trapped and impregnated her previous to that. She was still wondering how it had grown so much so fast when she noticed how it was encasing Tatiana with its flesh and squeezing down.