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I'm now in my third trimester.

When I walk, it is with an ungainly, awkward waddle, a laborious process that more often than not leaves me cradling my tight, swollen belly with one hand. Nanaki enjoys seeing me lurch about and gently teases me over it, to which I sometimes lightly bop him on his nose or ruffle his mane. More often than not, though, he leans into the crook where my breasts meet my belly, purring, or gifts me with small, delicate licks on my belly that drag so very sweetly on the taut skin. Sometimes when he does this, our young squirm and tumble in response, and I rest there with one hand in my mate's fur and the other gently caressing my tummy, basking in their movement.

But I rarely walk, now. Instead, I prefer to rest in and around the den. Right now, I am sitting on a flat stone by the nearby book. Nanaki is padding through the nearby flower field, and it would be a perfect afternoon were it not for the scientists on the far end of the glass, observing and cataloguing our movements.

I try to banish them from my mind. There are more pressing matters to attend to. My breasts--which are nice and swollen, at least a full cup size from what they were before--ache. They've been tender throughout my pregnancy, as to be expected, with certain days being worse than others. But the past half-week or so has been a never-ceasing, mounting tide of tenderness that refuses to abate. Now there's a pressure in them that won't go away.

Nanaki finishes his activity and pads over to me, his tail swishing in concern. "What's the matter?" he asks.

I eye him, trying not to hiss at the aching sensation as I gently knead my breasts. "They're so--sore," I say, grunting. "I can't--a-ah..."

He huffs a heavy breath out his nostrils and then pads closer to me. "I think I might try to help," he says. "If..."

"Do it," I hiss, and he complies.

His muzzle gently, so gently nips at one of my tits--not enough to hurt, not really, but enough for me to gasp and squirm from the sensation. He maneuvers his mouth with incredible tenderness until my nipple is within, and then--

He starts to suck.

I moan at the sensation as my body's feedback starts kicking into overdrive. It feels like every single nerve ending has been spurred into a hot-footed dance, and before long my whole breast, nipple and all, is afire with needlepoint sensations that mix pain and sweet, sweet pleasure so thoroughly that it threatens to drive me wild.

"N-Nanaki," I pant out, resting one hand on the back of his neck, "it's too--too much--" But he shoots me a silent, pleading look to just trust him, and my protests die as I acquiesce.

Before long I gasp as a small trickle starts to flow out. It's scarcely more than the small dribblings I've had off and on for the past month or so, but consistent, and an extremely surreal sensation.

And then, after a few more minutes of dedicated sucking, the dam finally breaks, and my aching breast releases its bounty. Milk surges out of me, a river-like flow that is not roaring or rushing, but dedicated and firm. I hear Nanaki purr as he starts to drink it down, and I lean back with a relieved sigh.

The sensation of having my mate nurse from me... it's unlike anything I could have described. Foremost was relief, as the pressure of my overburdened, milk-swollen breasts was finally given an outlet, and the sweet ache of my oversensitive, overstimulated nipples was more than worth the sheer bliss of release. But more than that, I found the sensation--the regular tugging of Nanaki's muzzle against my chest, the regular flow, the feel of being a lifegiver--to be oddly, curiously intimate. A strange feeling blossomed throughout me and as I leaned back, Nanaki drinking from me, I felt a tingly sensation winding from my chest into the rest of me. It was warm, like dying embers, and I felt the heat begin to bud down in my loins despite myself. By now, Nanki had switched to my other teat, and the sense of relief was unparalleled. I was content to just lie there as he eased my tautness.

When he finally pulled up, panting, he locked eyes with me, and I didn't need to see between his legs to know that he was a little worked up from this. I reached up to cup my hand against the side of his muzzle. "Thank you," I murmured, and he pressed into my hand in response. "I might ask you to do this every few days until they're born... maybe daily in the lead-up to it."

"Happily," Nanaki says, his voice like melted chocolate, so deep and sweet.

Still leaning back, I gently squirm my pregnant bulk underneath him so that my pussy is in a more ideal spot, and then I spread my legs.

"Please," I whisper, and he doesn't need telling twice. We make love there by the side of the brook, our bodies rocking as one.

---

More days pass like winter into spring, and I plump up like a berry. I can't imagine it's long, now. A week at most, perhaps. I feel ripe, taut, ready--I can't imagine that my babies aren't prepared to squirm their way out of me either. Or perhaps they have reservations, preferring to nestle in the warm, familiar comfort of my safe, warm womb rather than the perils of the world outside.

But they couldn't be. They'll be like their father. Brave. Forthright. Ready to face the world.

I rarely leave the den anymore, and even when it's time for my checkups, more often than not the scientists have to come and fetch me. (Nanaki was not happy with that arrangement, but I convinced him not to attack provided they behaved themselves.) Despite the fact that my enormity draws more and more eyes than ever, I find myself no longer as prudish and willing to hide my form as I used to be. I've settled comfortably into my new role. Lush--fertile--bred. I am the mother of Nanaki's children, and I don't mind if they read that role in the plump milkiness of my breasts or the gravid globe of my stomach.

But although I rarely leave, today, with Nanaki's help, I have managed to hobble outside, one arm supporting my enormous, hanging belly. I am far larger than a normal human would be at the end of her pregnancy, just shy of twice as large--our cubs are individually smaller than a human child, but Hojo says we can expect four of them, and my belly has grown to match. With Nanaki's help, I wend my way to a hillside covered with soft grass that waves in the caress of the summer breeze. Nanaki eases me onto my back, and I coo as he nudges open my legs.

"Are you certain?" he asks. Always such concern; he makes for a great mate. He'll make for an even better father.

"Just because I'm pregnant doesn't mean I'm not horny," I say. I eye him from my position. "Nanaki, I've hungered for your cock for too long." His tail thrashes in response and I glow with delight. "Eat me out," I say. "Gently, gently."

He complies. Ohhhhhhh, the contrast between his rough, sandy tongue and the sheer loving delicateness with which he drags it over me, tenderly lapping circles around my plump clit and teasing open my labia. I almost can't stand it. I want to arch my back, to knot my fingers in the grass, to push into him--but I'm too large, too pregnant to do anything other than gently sway from side to side and slowly nnnnnn from behind my lips. They're getting fuller, or so I hear. Nanaki whispers to me of how I'm gradually changing with pregnancy.

After a few minutes of Nanaki's tongue gently ministering to me, the sensual bliss crashing regularly like waves upon the sand, I stop him with a whispered word. "Enough, my lion," I say. "Enough foreplay." I spread my legs just a titch farther, giving him ease of access to my flushed, waiting pussy. "Claim your mate."

He meets my proposition with a happy chuff, and as he angles himself, he braces his paws on my belly, resting them gently. Ah, the touch--my skin is so sensitive that even the barest brush of his fur and paw pads against my belly sends shivers of delight skittering through me.

But I can only focus on such sensations briefly. He pushes into me, his cock thick and barbed, and my breath leaves me in a blissful sigh as my eyes flutter. Nanaki holds in me for a moment, both of us enjoying the totality of it all--and then he starts to fuck me good.

His pace is slow and smoky, a deep, sensual, lover's tempo. Every push, every delighted drag leaves me hungry for more, and he's more than happy to oblige. His slow pushes in are something to be savored, and his long drags out leave me praising his name as his barbs stimulate the inside of my cunt.

So much, I think dazedly amidst it all. We've made so much love these past months. And yet I don't tire of it. How could I? Nanaki is the best lover a girl could ask for.

Gradually, without being asked, he picks up his pace, and it's all I never knew I wanted. "Oh," I say as his cock bumps into me, the smooth and inviting fur of his loins rubbing close against my own. "Nanaki, I--ohhhhhh..."

"Aerith," he pants, bucking against me. It's an incredible sight--a handsome, beautiful creature, wolflike and lionlike and yet unlike them both, proud and intelligent and orange like a summer sunset, perched on my belly, gripping it just so. That sight is buoyed even further by the fact that it's his young nestled in my womb, his cubs, and I find myself blushing at the realization of how thoroughly I've been bred, been claimed. I am his--his hole to fill, his womb to seed, his mate to fuck and knot and fill with children.

But then, if I'm his, then he's mine, too.

"Faster," I say. "Harder."

And he doesn't need any more encouragement than that. His pace picks up as he ruts me more and more passionately, and before long, I'm reeling from bliss, my whole body rocking as he fucks me full-force. Every push, every drag, they bleed into each other, one after the next after the next ... all roiling together into a single symphony of wondrous pleasure. I feel sensation in my breasts--our activity is stimulating them. Small trickles of milk are trailing down, following my maternal curves.

Maybe it's the tenderness of my hormone-addled body, but I seem to be getting close extra fast today, and when Nanaki finally hilts in me, howling as his knot swells my sopping cunt, that's all it takes for me to orgasm, my eyes rolling in the back of my head as my pussy flutters uselessly, trying fruitlessly to clench down on his ever-swelling knot. Nanaki himself spurts more of his hot cum directly into me.

He stays knotted in me as he lays his head upon my stomach, slowly moving his paws over it. I feel the rumble of a small purr, and the knowledge fills me with warmth and pride.

Who could ever want more than this?

---

Later that same evening, after Nanaki has helped support me as I waddle my way back into our den, I wake once more to movement within my belly.

It's grown to be a regular occurrence, that. I don't mind it much. It keeps me close to them. Connected.

Tonight they are especially active, and despite myself I coo and giggle as I feel them tumbling and squirming within me. One of them acts up and I gasp as I see little bumps on my exposed tummy in the glooming light.

Nanaki shifts behind me and for a moment I wonder if I've woken him--but then I realize that he's been awake for a while.

"Evening," I say, rubbing my hands over my belly.

"Evening," he replies. He slowly rises and pads around to my front, eying my lush, swollen stomach with wonder. He raises his head, his eyes meeting mine in query, and I nod. He wants to show affection to our little ones.

Nanki's tongue dips low, brushing my stomach, and then slowly sliiiiiiiiiiiides up, dragging so slowly, so sweetly, that it almost drives me mad with stimulation. I feel every drag, every brush as his sandpaper tongue stimulates my already sensitive skin.

Our cubs respond to their father's touch with more activity. I gasp quietly, color blooming in my cheeks as I feel them squirming and tossing inside of me. They're already so active--I can imagine them putting that energy to good use, rushing through the long grasses and bounding over each other in wild fits of play. I wonder, is that a paw pressing against me, causing a bump on my belly that Nanaki meets with a gentle, loving lick? Or is it a muzzle, a tiny tail?

"Nanaki..." I murr, whispering his name to the quiet den, and he meets me with a purr, picking up his loving licks, trailing them all across my belly until every inch of my roundness burns with a tired sweetness, sheened from his attentions and affections.

How long do I bask there, luxuriating in the dual sensations of my babies moving within me, my mate gently attending to them? I can't rightly say. All I know is that joy--not sexual pleasure, but real, intense, euphoric joy--is winding through me.

After our cubs quiet down, Nanaki nuzzles close to me, nudging me with his muzzle. I can feel the low carburetor rumble of his purr as I stroke his fur, my eyes half-lidded.

It seems the right time to say it.

"Nanaki?" I say, reaching around to cup the side of his head. His one good eye meets mine, golden like the dawn.

"Mm?"

"I... I love you," I say to him.

He doesn't respond, but his eye still meets mine, wide and searching.

"I mean it, Nanaki," I say, wrapping my arms around his neck to hold him close. "I love you so much. You and our cubs." Without prompting he rests one gentle paw on my belly and I shiver as the intimacy of it.

"I want more," I say, voicing desires I've considered and settled on lately. "More cubs. I'll bear your children for as long as you let me. I--I love you. I love us."

He looks elated--but then his gaze turns away. "Shinra caged us together. That's why..."

"Fuck Shinra," I growl, yanking his attention back to me. "And fuck Hojo. Fuck the whole lot of them! Don't misunderstand me, Nanaki. I don't want to spend my days here in this building. I don't want to be their test subject. I want to be free again. And I will be. With you, and our cubs, and--and then you can take us back to Cosmo Canyon. You can take us home. And we'll all live there together, a family, you and your mate and your cubs."

He meets my face again, his eyes wide. "You... you really mean it, don't you," he says.

"I do," I whisper, and then I hold tight to him. "I don't know how, but we'll get out someday. And when we do, I'll stay by your side. I'll bear your children. Because we're mates, Nanaki. You're the most beautiful creature in the world, and I don't want to be anywhere unless you're there too."

He looks at me for a moment and then he sinks into me, and this proud, noble, deep-voiced creature is sobbing. "Thank you," he says, his voice tight with emotion. "Aerith, I... I love you too. I have for so long, but I never--I never thought you could love a beast like me..."

"A beast? You?" I say, rubbing my hands through his fur. My own voice is tight. "Nanaki, you dolt. You're no beast. You're a blessing."

---

The contractions start only a few days after that. The first one sneaks up on me a few hours before, surprising me like an adder's bite and making me squeak. Thankfully, Nanaki is not around to spy it, nor do the scientists seem to pick up on it. I retreat to our den, now knowing what to expect, and when the new contractions come every thirty minutes or so, this time I'm ready, letting them roll through me with a low, soft moan.

My body continues preparing itself as the day stretches on, and by the time night settles down on us, I barely react to them with more than an exhalation of breath. Nanaki curls against me, the bigger spoon as always, and quickly nods into slumber.

I wait, and wait.

It's an hour or so before midnight when I gently shake him awake. My lover quickly blinks himself out of slumber and looks at me queryingly.

All I have to say is "it's time."

Quietly, wordlessly, we maneuver around our den, though both of us are first-time parents. I position myself on my hands and knees, grunting at the weight of my belly pulling me down. Nanaki paces around me, giving me space but ready to intervene the moment I ask him.

My mind is racing a million miles a minute, but I force it to quiet and follow my maternal instincts. I slowly start to rock my hips, moaning at the sensation. The movement seems to help my entrance open just a bit farther. "Okay," I breathe out, biting my lower lip. The urge to push is on me. "Okay. I can do this."

The contractions have picked up by now, coming regular like a drumbeat, and on the next one, I push.

I feel one of our cubs settle into me, stretching me, and I choke back a sob. Our cubs can't be that big, and yet the sensation is so, so huge--I can barely stand it! I lay there, quivering, the sensation of my child just starting to stretch my birth canal, and then the contraction comes on me again and I push and the cub settles lower and I sink, quivering, sobbing because it's such a deep, incredible ache.

Nanaki is on me, his tail swishing back and forth with worry. "Are you alright, Aerith?" he asks.

"Hurts," I manage to force out behind my teeth. "Hurts so--so--"

I let the words die. There's too much to focus on. I give myself to my instincts, losing track of time as I push, push, push. I feel liquid, hot and viscous, leaking from my cunt and trailing down my thigh, and with every push my cub slides lower, stretching me farther and farther. My whole world is nothing but stretches and pushes until--

A sudden pressure at my entrance. My breath hitches high, and I wordlessly cry out for Nanaki. He rushes around, leaning in so close I can feel his breath on my cunt. I grunt and squeeze, my pussy slowly stretching open until I can feel it coming loose, my cub. When it's partway out, Nanaki surprises me by leaning in and gently nipping our cub by the scruff on the back of its neck. The little thing squeals--and oh Lifestream and spirits that's my baby's voice my baby is chirping and warbling into the world I've done it I've brought in new life--and then Nanaki, with a firm yet gentle pull, tugs it out of me and I'm left gasping from the sudden emptiness. My cunt aches and I dip my head between my legs. In the upside-down world that results, I see Nanaki licking off our cub. It's small, about two-thirds the size of a human newborn, with wet reddish-brown fur and a long tail like its father's. My baby's paws are kneading fruitlessly at the air and its voice fills the den as Nanaki keeps licking it.

I've never seen a more beautiful sight in my life.

But there isn't much time to wait. Another weight settles in and I resume pushing.

Partway through my ordeal, Nanaki takes our newly-cleaned cub and deposits it right beneath my hanging breasts. The little one's searching mouth quickly finds a nipple and I sob as the milk flows free. My newborn is suckling me and I'm feeding new life for the first time, and the sensation is indescribable. It's pure motherhood, raw maternal bliss, and I find myself weeping with joy that overtakes me and speeds along the whole process. By the time our second cub is breaching, ready for Nanaki to help pull it out as he did the first, our firstborn is finished drinking and is now curled against itself in slumber against the wall of the den, fat-bellied with mother's milk.

The third is even easier than the second, and the fourth still, and by the time the sun rises, I am no longer a mother-to-be.

I don't know what it is that prompts Shinra that the day has finally arrived. Maybe it's that neither of us have left the den despite their false morning shining over the enclosure. Maybe it's the fact that neither of us have collected our breakfast. Or maybe they just have a camera in the den itself.

Whatever the reason, it's not long after dawn that we hear them coming. Scientists grunt, wriggling into our den, scribbling away on clipboards or hurriedly tapping info into devices. They look rushed, frustrated. I imagine they wanted to observe the birth firsthand, perhaps ensure I bore my children in a sterile, clean lab.

Well. There was a reason I kept it quiet until late at night.

Hojo is the last to arrive, and for once, his face bears no smugness. I can see it in the thin line of his mouth, the way his nostrils flare, his hands clenched so tight that his fingernails dig into his palms. He feels cheated from a proper scientific observation. He wanted to see me give birth.

I lay there, weary and prone from my long night's labor, cuddling two cubs against me. Each one has latched onto a teat and is sucking away diligently, the milk coming smooth. Near me, Nanaki is curled around the other two, both dozing against their father. His tail is wrapped protectively around them.

I look at Hojo and despite my bone-deep weariness, despite lying there, naked, caked in birthing juices, I feel triumph. This is my family. This was my labor. And I gave birth on my terms, not his. And though I feel inclined to say something, our eyes meet and I sense the anger and frustration in him and I realize that there's no need.

Fleeting it might be, but I won. And so I lean back with a happy sigh, glad to feel my young kneading against me as they suckle from my milky breasts.