Love As The Darker Binding Ch. 04

"We're good, ... good for length like, ... thi—this , Dusty. If we-re really a , ... a couple now, then – hhhhh – hhh! Hhh! Hhh! Fuck me."

She lowered her head so that it hung down fully as she worked, "Fuck me but be, ... be gentle and don't go in HHH! HHH! HHH. Not far. HHH! HHH! Not hard. HHH! HHH!

Baby, I love you and, ... HHH! Hhh! And I'm yours now. Please fuck me."

Dusty got the message. He didn't understand the mechanics of what Imogen meant, but he'd do what she wanted. Imogen moved herself a little farther up as she felt how close he could come to hitting her cervix after that, but though there were no loud and long shouts or wails, they managed to fuck for a surprising length of time to her and she had several really good orgasms before he came with that series of grunts that she was beginning to love to hear from him.

"You're such a beast," she smiled as she raised her head for another kiss afterward. "I know what Abi said and I mean that in the nicest way.

Can we stay like this for a while? It doesn't tickle as your stuff runs out of me like this. I probably couldn't do that again tonight, but that was amazing."

She lowered her head and sighed. "You're amazing, and I'm yours now, a troubled and um, introverted human, as Abi would say. What do they call females where you're from, I mean besides females?"

He spoke the word and she couldn't understand it. "It's about the closest thing to us as when you say 'girls'."

"You don't call them your bitches or anything like that?" she asked.

He shook his head, "No, never. Why?"

"Nothing, I guess," she sighed, "I like that you don't.

Guys around here use that word way too much, and the only time that I feel like a bitch is when I'm on my period and feeling miserable. Then I'm a bitch, but it's just how I think to myself then. I don't know why they do that. It would be the same as if I called them stupid dogs, since that's the word and where it comes from. A male dog is called a dog. A female one is called a bitch."

She felt an impression come to her and she tried to focus on it with her eyes closed.

She saw a female Ushandi, a large one from her first impression, but then Imogen saw others and she guessed that the female was about the same size as Dusty, possibly larger, though she couldn't really tell from the low view. As things progressed, Imogen saw that most of the young males nearby were only a little smaller than the female, all but one who was just a little larger than she was. That one shook visibly as she stared him down with her lips pulled back to reveal her long teeth.

Imogen thought that she recognized the males, but their demeanor was markedly different now. Imogen didn't hear any mocking laughter from them at all. Right there in her mind, Imogen saw the searing glare and heard the hot blasts of the female's breath as she stood before them all with her bunched muscles quivering in her anger. There was nothing said and the young males turned away, but it was too late for that.

Without warning, the female lunged silently and the bloody fur flew everywhere, the motions far faster than Imogen could follow in her mind's eye. None of them had even a chance to run. As she noticed one turning to flee, the female knocked the one she was mauling flat to the ground and went after the would-be runner with her already-bloodied claws gleaming at full extension. Imogen she saw her tearing right through the ones she recognized as Dusty's brothers and their friends. She wasn't even taking names.

She was just dishing it REALLY hard.

It ended with her surrounded by beaten-down young males on the ground as she focused her rage on the largest one. He looked like a large, tortured and screaming soccer ball as she hunkered over him, holding him with her constantly moving, ripping claws until she sank her teeth in deeply with a low growl.

From start to finish, that growl was the only vocalization that she made.

A moment later, the female's expression turned into worried concern as her face came closer in Imogen's view. Her last impression was of the body of one Ushandi lying on his side in a slowly spreading puddle of dark blood, not moving.

"Who was THAT?" she asked and Dusty chuckled.

"My mother."

Imogen's eyes opened so wide that Dusty thought they might leave her head.

"Your mother?

Holy fuck!" she whispered, "She was a machine – like a running, jumping, chainsaw food processor or something. She wailed the shit out of all of those guys at the same time! Your brothers again?"

He nodded, "All four of them. The other two were their friends.

Ushandi mothers never raise more than a palm to their young. But if you see your mother coming and you can see her claws clearly, then she's beyond pissed and it might be your last day."

"The one who was lying down, ..."

"Dead," he said.

Imogen was astounded, "Dead?"

Dusty nodded, "A friend of my brothers and the very worst bully there. He hurt me the most and urged them all on. She killed him for it. No one would have protected him except maybe his own mother, but she wasn't around or my mother would have ripped her apart like she was nothing to get to him.

What happened to me was considered very tragic and serious by everyone, not that it made me feel any better. I thought I was dying from what they did to me before she got there. She carried me home by the scruff of my neck and she was already crying by then. I didn't walk again for many days because I couldn't stand up without feeling dizzy.

Other than the royal ones, we often have our young in pairs. I was a late single surprise to my parents and I've always been small. Other than my middle two brothers who were twice my age, most of them were a little older and there were six of them. I was very young then. I guess you might think of a six year-old as a comparison. My brothers would have been twelve and fourteen, two pairs.

The one who died always said that I shouldn't have been allowed to live. The things that he said hurt, but the beatings from them all hurt a lot more. All of my brothers always lied to our mother and told her that I was the one who was lying, that I'd annoyed all of my playmates every time that I came home beat up.

Your mother always tries to see if it's too bad, but you're supposed to learn to fight with others your own age. I didn't do much of that because I always lost, since I was smaller than the rest my age. I didn't see any point to it, since I knew what would always happen. She'd stare at the marks on me and looked doubtful after a few times. Once, I saw her hold up her own claws to one of my wounds. I think she was checking for size and spread.

That day it got out of hand because they didn't stop. I never had a chance when I tried to run. It was six on one. I never had a hope. I guess that one time when I really needed her, our mother must have figured it out or heard my screams and come for me.

I was badly mauled and almost died from losing so much blood. I wore the scars for a long time. It was a good while before any of my brothers could get near enough to me to apologize. I forgave them but I never forgot and we weren't the same after that.

Our mother left them all to lick their own wounds and wouldn't speak to them for days, other than to warn them to get away when she saw them come to try to say they were sorry. I guess she didn't trust herself to keep it at that.

My father had to find them food because she told him that since they were such good fighters, then they could hunt their own as far as she was concerned. He did it, but he didn't speak to them either. He was angry and sad over what had happened. I heard my mother cry quietly for a few days.

She was heartbroken over it and she never forgave the oldest two. Ushandi young are taught to care for each other. They were supposed to have been watching out for me. For them not to have protected me was one huge thing to her as it would have been to any mother there that I ever saw. But for them to have been a part of the attacks hurt her the most and she took it hard.

A young Ushandi who won't protect a younger sibling is considered worthless and he loses the trust of his parents. One who joins an attack on a younger sibling who had to trust him to even have been led to it is almost a murderer to any mother – especially his own after about the equivalent of nine years old.

That day. as soon as she saw what they'd done to me - what they were about to do, my mother saw that she had four sons like that, so it really hurt her.

As soon as she knew that they could hunt for themselves, she threw the oldest ones out and they were never spoken of again.

Not long after we got home, the dead one's father came to our home in a rage and my mother almost killed him too. A male is larger and stronger, but nothing on our world fights like an Ushandi mother for her young. From where I was lying, I saw that she didn't say a thing to him.

He got one sentence out about killing all of us for the loss of his son.

She left him with half a face. Since she must have felt a little better after that; she only maimed him then. He almost crawled away. I never saw him again.

When my father led my brothers back home after hunting for them, he found out about it, and I never saw my father like that before in my life. I thought my mother was mean-looking when she was angry, but he looked like he was ready to kill anything then.

He found out where they lived after a bit of hunting and he killed that couple, since there were no other young. What they should have done was come to apologize for what their son had done and offer any help they could – even in their grief. That's expected then. But if the male knew of it, then the mother had to know as well and he was there for the wrong reasons.

We take things like that very seriously. I was never my mother's favorite when I was little. She never made a big deal about it, but we all knew that the oldest of us were her favorites. After that day and the months afterward as I healed, she treated me like a gift to her and I never forgot it.

A long time later, after I'd grown up, the lord we both work for came to ask for one Ushandi. It was his right to ask, since he is our overlord, above even the king. He wanted one who was not large, but who had fine motor control. I'd met him not long before and he tested me.

That day, he called out for me and I walked to stand next to him. My parents were really proud of me. I thought my mother was going to fall down.

I've been back since, and my mother is known as the mother of the overlord's pilot now so she's looked up to there."

Dusty thought for a moment to remember and then he said, "I always went out to play alone after I was better. My parents didn't like the idea, but it was either that or I wasn't going out at all. I never trusted my brothers again. If I even saw them coming while I was alone, I ran."

He chuckled a little, "Nobody ever tried to get into a fight with me, though. My mother was famous after that day and nobody wanted to see her like that again. So everybody just left me alone."

He sighed, "Now you see why no one ever refers to an Ushandi female with a word like 'bitch'. No such word exists in our language."

"No doubt," Imogen said from under her raised eyebrows, now that everything about his shyness made sense to her.