Bought

Blair groaned, stretching his back when he felt the spasms tighten, growing much worse. He rubbed at his weary, red-rimmed eyes. It was late and the babies were down for their nap. They had started sleeping a little longer at night recently, but he knew that soon they would awaken again, hungry, and he would feed them once more before going to bed himself.



While he waited for them to waken, he had started in on the huge number of confidential files that Dr. Miller had sent him. Files that were not open to public distribution as they were thought to be too inflammatory, or controversial. What that really meant was not in support of Sentinel Government and popular Sentinel thought. Blair read each draft eagerly, soaking up the classified information. Study after study, paper after paper. They mapped out a very different world from the one he lived in now.



As he read he was compiling his own paper in his mind, jotting down notes.



When it came to Guides it was painfully obvious to him that the focus of energy was on children first. Yes, despite the way the Sentinel world thought, it was absolutely irrefutable given the evidence of his own life and the observations of others in the reams of documents in front of him, that Guides gravitated towards their children first and foremost.



The unnatural and brutal custom of removing the babies so early from their Guide parent perhaps gave the illusion that Guides were more attached to Sentinels, but it wasn't true. Premature removal of children did push Guides into Heat more rapidly than otherwise would happen. Which in turn made them receptive to conception. Meaning sex. Being as most had only Sentinels available to them for such activity, of course Guides focused on Sentinels until they gave birth. Then they had at most a month, most of them, to care for the true priorities of their lives before the babies were taken away to live in Guide Houses and Nurseries.



Blair shook his head. A real life muck up of experimental structure. If you give any subject only one choice the subject will chose the choice he or she is left with. What is the alternative? No choice? He sniffed.



Heat. Now there was an interesting topic. Creepy, too. No matter who he read on that particular subject he had the uncomfortable feeling that he was reading articles relating to animal husbandry. He felt like an animal, because it was him, his kind, being discussed. He was a Guide. The double blind studies, the attempts to cause Heat artificially, it made him shudder. It was inhuman, what they were doing. These people, scientists, would look on Blair himself as a test subject, not a fellow human.



As far as attachment to children being a stronger pull than sex, Blair had his own experience to add fuel to the fodder. When he heard a coo, a cry, or a murmur from his children it went through his body like an electric shock. His breasts tightened, he could actually feel his nipples engorge in preparation for feeding, the letdown of milk, dribbling from his body if he took too long to reach his babies; he was always ready to nurse them, eager to do so.



The waves of warm affection, of love that overwhelmed him when he held his children was more intense than any emotion he had felt before. He loved them. He'd had little affairs of the heart before with various women, thought he loved and was loved in return, but now he knew what real love was. The secret had been locked in three small, helpless bodies, waiting to be born. He had love now. And he would hold on to it with every fiber of his being.



With his Sentinels, Jim Ellison and Brian Rafe, he felt safe. He felt cared for. He felt his children were also safe and cared for, and that was even more important.



Certainly he felt some attraction to the two men. They were handsome, virile, and strong. But he wasn't about to let himself forget that some of that attraction came out of a very real need to bind them to him, and thus to ensure the safety of his children. Blair needed them to care about him. To attain the greatest possible security for his babies. Sex was part of that, or he told himself wryly, it soon would be. Sex spoke to Sentinels. Sex would bind them to him with pleasure as well as the duty any Sentinel had to care for his Guide's well being.



The problem was he didn't want to become pregnant again, not so soon. He had trouble meeting the needs of the three infants he had now, they were the center of his life, his world. If he had three more it would be impossible to care adequately for all of them. He feared if Jim saw how much attention and time they took he might consider placing some of them in a Guide House. Or a Guide Nursery. The idea itself came close to stopping Blair's heart.



He searched frantically for something to help him out of his dilemma. Yet, of all the research Blair went through, and it was extensive, none of it mentioned any way of controlling the period of time between conceptions. Not even in passing. There was a total absence of information available.



Admittedly the concern over hyper-fertility wasn't as common as infertility. Few Guides were likely to need access to any kind of birth control. But, even so Blair found it curious that there was no research at all on the subject. At least none he could find. Which was the same as saying there wasn't any available. Because Blair had years of practice finding obscure data in obscure places. If it was there, he would have found it.



So, there was no way to control conception, aside from abstinence, if you were a Guide. Not a variable most Guides were in control of. Sentinels decided on sex, on taking Guides to Houses to be mated, not Guides. There were laws on the subject. None of those things were subject to Blair's will. Abstinence wasn't going to be an option for Blair much longer. He was feeling the drive already, the tingle that presaged true Heat, and his children were only four months of age.



Soon he would be in Heat, fertile. Blair read the article now on his screen, the cool, precise descriptions of what would happen to his body. Was happening already. He didn't like it, not at all. He could understand how anyone observing a subject in such a state could equate Guides with animals.



Encouraging Brian and Jim to handle the babies, to bond with them as parents would work to a degree to keep the babies here, with Blair. But Blair didn't delude himself. It wouldn't do the same thing as binding his Sentinels to him. That would forge them into a family group. That arrangement would be the most secure. And that meant dealing with being sexual, being in Heat, and finding a way not to get pregnant immediately.



Sentinels didn't think of children first. Not like Guides. They thought of Guides first. Mating. Possession. Sex. Territory. Position and Rank. Blair had no doubt of it. Jim's hand on his shoulder, leading him around, controlling his movement in public, showing his ownership, Blair could ~feel~ it. He could also feel Jim's, and Rafe's, physical interest in him. Blair's Empathy was in full evidence now. He felt the babies waking before they opened their eyes, felt it when they were wet, hungry, anxious, and needing anything.



He also felt the desire, the lust that Jim and Rafe experienced when they looked at him. They suppressed it, kept it under control for the most part. But it wouldn't be that way forever. He ~felt~ their eyes on him, on his body, seeing him even through his clothing. Lingering on his breasts, which were visibly engorged with milk, not hidden and flat against his chest any longer, not since the end of his pregnancy.



More and more frequently of late, he felt arousal himself. That more than anything scared him. Lust, want, need, it all cluttered the mind, made thinking second to desire. He might give away everything and gain not enough in return. Blair hung his head for a moment, gritting his teeth. He hated having to think this way. He hated it. But his children were relying on him. He was their only chance at a normal life, a life as more than an object, a thing for a Sentinel to use, a breeding machine.



The arousal was sharp, not gentle when it rode him. It came at odd times, most often when he was near his Sentinels. And once or twice, even when he was near William. He had caught himself leaning closer to the older man, admiring his strength, his power, knowing William could do much for Blair and his children. Finding to his distress that he was thinking of what kind of father William might be to any new children he had with Blair. And planning how to lure him into fathering them.



Blair had fled after that stark realization, taking refuge in the nursery, holding the babies together in his arms, against his chest. Shuddering until his lingering arousal faded to a manageable degree.



Blair had thrown himself into his research and the children after that. He meditated when he could, struggling for calm. Not letting himself think about sex, isolating himself as much as he could to give himself time to think, to find an answer. He avoided any Sentinel when he was able. He also forbid himself to think of William. Not completely successfully, but he kept what sexual thoughts he did have on Jim, not on Jim's father.



Blair stretched again as his back twinged. He wished fervently the chair wasn't so big, that it offered him more support. As it was....he had his feet propped up on a stool, a pillow wadded behind him, and even so, his hips didn't go all the way back. It was a chair made for a Sentinel, not a Guide. As far as manufacturers were concerned, there just wasn't a market for Guide-friendly desk chairs. Of course if Blair asked maybe William would order him a chair from some Mundane shop. But so far, the fact William hadn't thought of it himself was a pointed reminder Blair thought he needed. Whatever words William Ellison spouted, he still saw Blair as a Guide. Not an equal.



Blair lowered his forehead down to rest against his balled fists on the desktop. He missed the time in his life when sex was just sex. Another hunger to feed, another itch to scratch. Simple. Intense. Pure pleasure without so many consequences. Sex was no longer so uncomplicated. Sex was a monster, and the consequences were huge. From the first moment he was kidnapped, when he had discovered his body wasn't sacred, or protected, that he could be raped. All the way through the months to now, when he had to seriously consider his body, his sex, as a tool to use to get what he desperately needed.



Blair moved his hands out from under his head, rubbed along either side of his spine, trying to work out the ache before he realized he wasn't alone. He looked up to see Rafe in the doorway.



Taller and stronger than any Guide, and watching Blair with dark, smoldering eyes. Blair, caught unprepared, felt a spike of desire tingle through his pelvis along with a healthy dose of fear. He felt his body soften, moisten, his nipples peak, his nerves sing. A flush rode his cheeks, traveling up his neck like wild fire. He groaned involuntarily, arching his chest forward as if offering the wet peaks to the Sentinel who gazed down at him.



Blair watched, helplessly as Rafe's nostrils flared in reaction. Blair knew without being told that he was suddenly in deep trouble. Yet he couldn't stop himself from arching even more, letting his knees part, making the invitation.



A dozen steps across the sound absorbing, thick pile carpet, and Rafe was at Blair's side. The Sentinel swung the chair around. Reaching out with his wide, Sentinel-strong hands, hands that clamped around Blair's waist, fingers digging in, gripping him. Blair felt the bite of those powerful fingers even through the folds of his robe.



Then Brian was lifting him bodily out of the chair. Blair sliding out of the leather chair like he was riding on a cushion of air. Then all the way down to the carpeting, to lie flat on his back. Settled there with a little less gentleness than Blair had come to expect. It jarred him. Like a knife tearing through his gut. Sharp and startling.



Blair had for a while taken to wearing Levi's, a T-shirt and a loose, flannel shirt on top, as had been his custom before he was outed as a Guide. But the Mundane clothing made nursing awkward. And so, he more often than not wore robes, especially at night, when he would soon be going to bed. There was another reason Guides wore robes, Blair thought, a little panicked. Easy access for amorous Sentinels. Robes traditionally were not worn with underclothing of any kind.



Rafe's hands found their way under Blair's robe and onto his skin. Blair felt the fingers moving, spreading out over his belly, brushing against his sex, moving around to lock around his sides, holding, squeezing, pinning him down. In contrast to what he expected the next caress was soft, light, barely ghosting over his flesh.



It was Rafe's turn to moan, pressing his face into the softness of Blair's belly. His tongue stole out; he licked the trembling skin under his mouth. Licked and suckled it, a spot just below Blair's belly button. Innocent flesh, not sexual, but sensual.



Teeth were there next, teasing him. Sharp if sharp could be called gentle in the next breath. Blair's legs spasmed, closing the fraction they could around Rafe's wide shoulders, then lifting to rest on top of them. He couldn't be more open, more vulnerable. Rafe's hand cupped over his hip, thumbs sliding down, parting him and Blair shuddered, as the long thumb rubbed him, so close to intimate parts. So close. He tried to sit up. Couldn't. Fell back and lay there, heart pounding, tripping like he'd run a race, his whole body singing, burning, begging.



A tongue lapped at him, low down, wet muscle gliding across tender flesh, licking, licking. Tasting him. Blair groaned again, pressing up into that shocking touch. He'd never had this done to him. This hungry nuzzling, almost feeding. Rafe was making sounds that raised the hair along Blair's neck, ran down his spine and exploded in every part of his body it passed.



Then there was a deeper sound, a rumbling cry, different enough to raise Blair's head, make him fight up out of numbing, confusing pleasure. He focused, not without difficulty, on the lean, strong form of his Alpha Sentinel. Jim was behind Rafe, his face a study of anger and lust both at their most pure.



Blair's vision blurred. He couldn't think. Couldn't consider what would happen now. What had he lost letting Rafe be the one to touch him this way, to play with his magic tongue? What had he lost by not ensuring the first to do this was Jim? His head fell back, lifted again.



Rafe let out that sound again. Blair tried to see. Jim was closer, up tight against Rafe's back, moving in an unmistakable rhythm. Driving into the body beneath his, while Rafe's face turned and pushed against Blair. Blair tried not to, but at last he had to. To reach down, to hold Rafe's head, to turn him just so, and tilt his pelvis up against the parted mouth, hold Rafe's mouth there, where he needed it to be.



Jim's hand came up, fisted in his mate's hair. Dragged his head back. Blair whimpered at the loss of Rafe's mouth, met the Alpha's eyes, too far gone to hate it when he heard his own voice plead. "Please." A breath, nothing more. "Please." Blair asked. Louder.



Jim pushed Rafe's face down, held him. Folded down across his bent body, growled into his ear, white teeth flashing. "Taste him then. Taste him well." Blair's heart stuttered in his chest. Rafe obeyed. And Blair had no time to be afraid. Only to feel the tongue finding him unerringly, slipping through the wet folds, tasting him as their Alpha said.



"God, god, god...." Blair moaned. No wonder women loved this. He whimpered, writhed. "Oh, god....." The tongue was finding every secret place, laving all of him, piercing him. Blair managed to open his eyes, stared up into the ice blue eyes narrowed down at him, eyes eating up his every reaction. Blair panted. Jim's own tongue stole out; he licked his lips, watching with unflinching hunger as his hips continued their dance, driving hard into Rafe's body.



Blair watched him, couldn't tear his eyes away. His Alpha Sentinel was all primal instinct, power and danger. Jim returned the look. Very slowly he reached up, still fucking Brian, still riding him. His fingers found the lower set of Blair's nipples, now coated in milk. He rolled them, tugging gently yet strongly on the sensitive nubs. Rafe's tongue darted deep.



Blair screamed, his whole body convulsing, seizing hard and fast.



Down the hall the babies woke and howled.



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Blair sat in the chair, waiting with ill concealed impatience while Dr. Miller went over her notes and the results from Blair's blood tests. He wrung his hands under the folds of his robe.



He was close to screaming from his burgeoning anxiety by the time she looked up and into his eyes.



"I don't think there can be any doubt, Blair." She said softly.



"What?!" He snapped, nerves stretched to the breaking point. "What is wrong with me? What can I do?"



"You are in Heat." She told him, flatly. He felt a rush of anger so strong as to be bordering on incoherent rage.



"I know that. What I don't know is what to do about it." His voice rose at the end of the word, snapping like the crack of a whip. "In Heat like some animal. I need it to stop."



"It can't be stopped, Blair," was her soft response. "It is one of the differences between Guides and Mundane. It is part of the ongoing argument that is used to keep the Guides from being recognized as fully human. Guides go through cycles of Heat when they are fertile. There is no way to stop Heat short of conceiving."



Blair held up his hands. "No. Wait. Stop. No way?

Even...animals...don't go into heat when they are nursing young. I am still breast feeding. Doesn't that preclude...." He saw the negation in her eyes, stumbled on. "Can't you...aren't there hormones, medicines to try?"



"Nursing doesn't stop or delay the onset of Heat in all cases. Delivering live babies is often the only trigger a Guide needs to start the cycles. The length of the cycles are individual to the Guide. Your cycle is just that, your cycle. Yours is very short. In fact the shortest I've seen in years. You are fertile now. Your body is telling you that."



"I'm not ready." Blair said. "My children are barely four months old. We are working on changing the laws. I don't have time for this. How can I stop it? Can we try birth control pills? They exist for Mundane women, I don't see why they can't work for me."



"You can't." But she wouldn't look into Blair eyes as she said it.



"Are you expecting me to believe that despite there being birth control of one kind or another for Mundane women for centuries, that there is nothing that will work for me?" Blair almost shouted at her. He needed something. "Cervical caps? Diaphragms?"



"Think about it Blair. Barrier methods are not going to alter the fact you are in Heat. They can prevent conception in a small number of cases, though the shape of the Guide cervix makes Mundane cervical caps and diaphragms useless, but that will only aggravate the condition. Until you become pregnant again you are going to remain in Heat. And it is likely that the feelings, the hot flashes, the arousal, and the lubricating will worsen. There is no way to stop it short of being impregnated."



"I am not ready. I can't go through that again, not so soon. I know there has to be some way. You have been looking into Guide biology all of your professional life." Blair's large blue eyes begged the doctor for help. His hands shook.



Dr Miller bit her lip. "It is illegal Blair. I can lose my license. I can be imprisoned. I can't even talk to a Sentinel about using condoms with a Guide. If a Sentinel has say, a sexually transmitted disease, the only alternative I am able to offer him during treatment is abstinence from his Guide until he is cured. I can't tell him to use protection. With another Sentinel, yes, with a Mundane lover, yes. But I cannot, I am forbidden by law to mention his using condoms with a Guide for any reason at all."



Blair shivered. "You have to give me something." He said. "Something. Anything."