Kajirae-gor
Copyright© 2026 by Megumi Kashuahara
Chapter 10: Growing
Science Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 10: Growing - Ryker Jamison's mission becomes a nightmare when a wormhole throws his ship onto Kajirae-Gor—a world where uncollared women are hunted. To save his crew, he uses alien biotech collars creating permanent neural bonds. What begins as survival becomes Commander something deeper: four women discovering their truest selves through impossible choices. A story of trauma, healing, unconventional love, and family forged when surrender becomes freedom.
Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Consensual Romantic Slavery Science Fiction Aliens DomSub MaleDom Harem Polygamy/Polyamory Interracial Black Female White Male Oriental Female Hispanic Female Big Breasts Small Breasts Illustrated AI Generated
Month Four - Medical Bay
Dr. Chen’s office was sterile, professional, and currently occupied by a very pregnant Vorathian warrior trying to maintain her dignity while sitting on an exam table in nothing but a collar.
Drak’vora’s hand rested protectively on her belly—no longer flat, now curved with undeniable evidence. Four months. Far enough along that hiding it was impossible.
The doctor’s scanner hummed over her abdomen, and Dr. Chen’s expression remained carefully neutral.
“Fetal development appears normal for Vorathian gestation,” she said, studying her tablet. “Heartbeat strong. Growth consistent with approximately sixteen weeks. Due date...” She paused, calculating. “Seven months from now, give or take.”
“Vorathian pregnancy is eleven months,” Drak’vora said quietly. “Longer than human.”
“Noted.” Dr. Chen set down the scanner and met her eyes. “You understand I’m required to file a report on this.”
“I understand.”
“And you understand the implications. A civilian asset, pregnant by the commanding officer, during what was supposed to be a six-month return journey.”
“I am aware.”
Dr. Chen sighed. “For what it’s worth, you look healthy. Strong. The baby is developing well.” A pause. “Congratulations.”
Drak’vora’s hand tightened on her belly. “Thank you.”
“Do you want to know the sex?”
“Not yet.” A faint smile. “Let it be a surprise.”
When Drak’vora returned to quarters, she found the others waiting—Ryker, So-Ye, Maria, Zynthara all gathered in his cabin. Through the meld, they’d felt her anxiety, her relief, her joy.
“It’s real,” she said simply. “Confirmed. Healthy.”
Zynthara bounced up and down. “You’re going to be a mother!”
“We’re all going to be mothers,” Maria corrected gently. She glanced at Zynthara. “Some of us sooner than others.”
The tiny empath pressed both hands to her own belly—still flat, but not for much longer. She’d been having symptoms for weeks: nausea, fatigue, heightened emotions beyond even her normal empathic sensitivity.
“I haven’t gone to medical yet,” Zynthara admitted. “I want to wait. Let Drak’vora have her moment.”
“Don’t wait too long,” So-Ye said. “Dr. Chen already suspects.”
“How do you know?”
“Because she asked me if I was pregnant during my last physical.” So-Ye’s voice was dry. “I’m not. Yet. But she’s clearly looking for patterns.”
Through the meld, Ryker felt their collective awareness: the consequences approaching, the judgment waiting, the uncertain future.
But also: joy. Hope. New life growing.
Drak’vora moved to stand in front of him, took his hand, and placed it on her belly.
“Feel,” she whispered.
He did. The slight curve, the warmth, the promise of the child within.
“Thank you,” she said. “For giving me this. For making me matter.”
“You always mattered.”
“I know.” She smiled. “But now I have proof.”
Month Five - Crew Mess Hall
The whispers had started weeks ago, but by month five, they’d become impossible to ignore.
Drak’vora’s pregnancy was obvious now—her uniform strained across her belly, the curve unmistakable. She moved with a warrior’s grace despite the extra weight, but every eye in the mess hall tracked her as she collected her meal.
So-Ye sat with Maria at a corner table, both women in uniform, both hyperaware of the stares.
“They’re going to crucify him,” Maria murmured. “When we dock. Star Command will see Drak’vora pregnant and—”
“I know.”
“And if Zynthara’s showing by then—”
“She will be.” So-Ye’s voice was flat. “She’s tiny. Even two months will be visible on her.”
Maria was quiet for a moment. “What about us?”
“What about us?”
“After the debriefing. After whatever punishment comes.” Maria’s hand found So-Ye’s under the table. “Do we ... continue?”
So-Ye looked at her—this woman she’d fallen in love with in the wreckage of trauma, this woman who’d become her anchor and her desire.
“Yes,” she said simply. “Whatever happens, yes.”
Across the mess hall, Chief Engineer Kowalski approached their table. He nodded respectfully.
“Ladies. Mind if I sit?”
They tensed, but So-Ye gestured to the empty chair.
Kowalski sat heavily, his weathered face thoughtful. “I’m not here to judge,” he said quietly. “I just want you to know that some of the crew ... we understand.”
“Understand what?” Maria asked carefully.
“That you went through hell down there. That Lieutenant Vasquez was captive for ten days. That the Commander did what he had to do to get you both back alive.” He paused. “And that whatever those collars did to you, it wasn’t your choice.”
So-Ye and Maria exchanged glances.
“It’s more complicated than that,” So-Ye said.
“I’m sure it is.” Kowalski stood. “But when the brass comes down on the Commander, when they start asking questions and pointing fingers, there are crew members who will testify that he saved lives. That he made impossible decisions under impossible circumstances.” He nodded once. “Just wanted you to know.”
He walked away, leaving them staring after him.
“Not everyone hates us,” Maria said softly.
“No.” So-Ye’s hand tightened on hers. “Not everyone.”
Month Five, Week Three - Zynthara’s Revelation
Zynthara stood in front of the mirror in Ryker’s quarters, naked, turning sideways to study her reflection.
There.
A subtle curve. A slight swell. Her belly, no longer completely flat.
“Mini mite,” she whispered, pressing both hands to the bump. “You’re really in there.”
Through the meld, Ryker felt her wonder, her joy, her overwhelming love for the child she hadn’t even met yet.
But he also felt something else. Something that had been building for days.
Hunger.
Zynthara turned from the mirror and looked at him where he sat on the edge of the bed. Her eyes were dark, pupils dilated, her breathing already faster.
“I need you,” she said.
“Zyn, we were together this morning.”
“I know.” She crossed to him, climbed into his lap with familiar ease. “But I need you again. The pregnancy—it’s making me—I can’t stop thinking about—”
“I know.” His hands settled on her hips, steadying her. “But you’re already getting more than anyone else. Daily, plus seconds, plus Sundays. I can’t—”
“Please.” Her voice broke. “Please, I’m so—I feel like I’m going to crawl out of my skin if I don’t—”
Through the meld, he felt it: pregnancy hormones amplifying her already intense sex drive, turning her into a creature of pure need.
“Zynthara.” He cupped her face gently. “I love you. But I physically cannot increase your time without neglecting the others. You understand that, right?”
She nodded miserably. “I know. I know it’s not fair. I just—” Tears welled. “I’m so horny I can’t think straight and I don’t know what to do.”
“Have you talked to the others?”
“About what?”
“About ... help.”
She blinked. “You mean...?”
“You’re not interested in women. I know. But you’re also desperate. And So-Ye, Maria, Drak’vora—they care about you. They might—”
“I can’t ask them that.” Her cheeks flushed deeper blue. “I’m straight. I’ve never—with a woman—”
“You’ve never been pregnant before either.” His voice was gentle. “Things change. Needs change. And family helps family.”
She buried her face in his shoulder. “I don’t know if I can.”
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