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<channel>
	<title>Pregnant Porn Blog</title>
	<link>http://preggyblog.com</link>
	<description>Pregnant sex pictures preggo blog preggy movies pregnant sex stories</description>
	<pubDate>Wed, 19 Nov 2008 17:29:31 +0000</pubDate>
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		<item>
		<title>Cookie Crumbs</title>
		<link>http://preggyblog.com/pregnant/cookie-crumbs/</link>
		<comments>http://preggyblog.com/pregnant/cookie-crumbs/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 13 Nov 2008 15:50:04 +0000</pubDate>
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	<category>lactating fetish</category>
		<guid>http://preggyblog.com/pregnant/cookie-crumbs/</guid>
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			<content:encoded><![CDATA[ (A Secret Santa Story)
 By Dryad (MF, Holiday)
 
 Merry Christmas! If you aren't old enough to vote, please find
 something more suitable for you to read. These works pop out of
 my own head, so unless you're one of the voices in there, this
 work is mine, just ask if you are interested. Comments Grovelled
 for.
 ******
 Written with much love for my buddy Wiseguy.  Love you! I'm
 glad you enjoyed it!
 ********
 
 She quietly closed the door.  It took two readings of "The
 Polar Express", one "Night before Christmas" and "The Fourth
 Wise Man" to get the two wiggle worms to fall asleep. 
 Threatening that Santa wouldn't come until they were asleep
 didn't seem to do any good.
 
 "Mark, They're asleep." She stage whispered down the hall. "I
 need your help bringing down the rest of the gifts." She heard
 him bound up the carpeted stairs, his long legs taking them
 three at a time. She walked down the hall ahead of him into
 their bedroom, where Santa's presents were waiting in their
 closet. 
 
 "Here. You take these, I've got these. One more trip should do
 it." They quietly carried the beribboned booty back down the
 stairs.
 "I saw Mommy kissing Santa Claus...." Rang low through the stereo
 speakers as they placed the presents carefully around the tree. 
 
 "You filled the stockings?"
 
 "Mmhmm. Did you remember that present we hid in the office
 closet? What possessed you to buy such a large one?"
 
 She smiled at him. "Oh, stop being such a bah humbug." He
 grinned back.
 
 "One more job to do!" He said with a salacious look on his face.
 
 "What's that?"
 
 "Well, Santa needs to eat his milk and cookies." 
 
 "Oh, Really?" she asked as he sat down in his recliner. She
 took the plate off the mantel and straddled his lap.
 
 "Which one would you like first?" her eyes twinkled
 mischievously.
 
 "That one." He pointed. He took a bite as she held it out for
 him. "Oh, wow. These are awesome, Kit. You have got to make
 these again next year."
 
 She giggled as he dropped crumbs all down his front.
 
 
 "Such a sloppy Santa. Do you need some help?"
 
 With a twinkle in his eye, he answered, "Of course, are you
 going to clean me up, Mrs. Claus?"
 
 "Kitty Claus. I like the ring of that." 
 
 Mark nearly snarfed. "My Kitty does not have claws. Come here..."
 
 Mark pulled her down in front of the fire they'd built in the
 fireplace. Some show the kids watched said that the fire needed
 to be there, or Santa wouldn't come. Since it was on TV of
 COURSE it had to be true, but the fire was welcome. Mark placed
 the cookies on the hearth before leaning back and wrapping his
 arm around Kit. He nuzzled her ear and murmured, "The kids are
 asleep."
 
 "Why Santa." She grinned as she leaned into his oncoming kiss.
 Her fingers came up to his jaw, stroking the beard as his tongue
 flickered against her cheek. She turned in his embrace, catching
 ...End of the part1. To be continued..]]></content:encoded>
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	</item>
		<item>
		<title>A work of fantasy</title>
		<link>http://preggyblog.com/pregnant/a-work-of-fantasy/</link>
		<comments>http://preggyblog.com/pregnant/a-work-of-fantasy/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 12 Nov 2008 15:23:02 +0000</pubDate>
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	<category>Uncategorized</category>
		<guid>http://preggyblog.com/pregnant/a-work-of-fantasy/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[ Oh, and I work hard on my writingï¿½so guess what? Its mine.  That's right boys and girlsï¿½its copyrightedï¿½so if you want it? Just askJ we'll talk.
 
 Dryad 
 
 
 Dear Nancy,
 Okay, I'm running out of "good" stationary and envelopes. So sue me. Or run off to Canada with me. Either way, I love you. You know that, but I'll tell you again anyway.  I LOVE YOU."
 
 The letter goes on, but she folds it closed. Her shoulders shudder slightly, breath hard to pull into her lungs. What a mess I've gotten myself into she thinks.   The rest of the letter falls into her lap.
 
 Nancy gazes out through the window.  A nice house, nice yard.  She hears her children playing outside on the swing.  Daniel will be home soon.  After being married for 9 years, she still loves him. But something stirs in her.  I'm more than the sum of my parts! She cries out internally, though her face still holds the stoic, patient  look it always does. She leans back in the kitchen chair and closes her eyes.
 
 She met Ethan quite by accident.  Friends goaded her into visiting a chat online.  It was innocent fun, visiting with these people.  Until Ethan. Ethan was- IS her soul mate.  Never has anyone been so intuitive of her needs, any of them, and unstintly cherished and took care of them.  But this was after Daniel.
 
 So as any good wife, she fought it. God, did she fight. Her mantra became,  he's just a friend, he's just a friend. But friends don't talk of kissing like that. Or touching.  His words became virtual caresses, touching her deep in her soul, until she no longer needed physical presence to make her cum harder than she ever had. But she kept making excuses in her mind.  He's so far awayï¿½its just harmless fantasy. But she knew it was becoming more real than any relationship she had.
 
 Then the phone calls started. Then, suddenly, he was here. He was here so close he could be touched.  And still, she tried to be good, even if it meant going against her heart.  Until the second meeting. Her eyes flutter at the memory.  Caution, certainly, but stolen touchesï¿½ soft hands on smooth skinï¿½ whispered words of love-Kisses that went on forever and then some, the kind that enlarge your soul until you can no longer be concerned about anything but that moment in timeï¿½and certainly it seems longer than that.  Even now, she can feel the tease of his tongue, the tenderness and depth of the love within that simple kiss.
 
 She didn't mean for this.  She wars with herself.  If things had been different, she would be with Ethan.  No question.  But things are as they are.  And responsibilities and yes, love, are what she has.  But there are so many different ways to love, and yes, even love romantically.  Anyone who says you can't love more than one person is either stingy, or close-minded. But she believes in promises.  And lets face it, marriage is just one big promise.  And she wars, why couldn't I have waited? Or, why can't I let him go? Or wondering if all her ideals are for nought, and she's a fool for not grasping the brass ring.
 
 She reads the end of the letterï¿½
 "I can't do something temporary and meaningless.  I'm too shy with strangers (yes, I am!) to do that.  But anyway- I will always be yours.  The deepest corners of my heart, where secrets are hidden even from me, will always find your name carved on their walls.  Your mark is on my soul, and the mark will never disappear."
 
 Copyright Dryad (gbbjg@yahoo.com) 2001
]]></content:encoded>
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	</item>
		<item>
		<title>blond dates part2</title>
		<link>http://preggyblog.com/pregnant/blond-dates-part2/</link>
		<comments>http://preggyblog.com/pregnant/blond-dates-part2/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 11 Nov 2008 15:25:03 +0000</pubDate>
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	<category>babeonboard</category>
	<category>3month</category>
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		<guid>http://preggyblog.com/pregnant/blond-dates-part2/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[ “Lucky guy.” He snickered as she turned away.
 
 She sat back down in her car and waited, wondering if she was in for a repeat performance.  
 She didn’t have to wait long, as a blue car pulled up beside her.  He smiled brightly at 
 her (he saw her photo, she hadn’t seen his). And she knew.  She stepped out of the car, 
 locked it, and opened his passenger door.  Her smile must have been brighter with relief 
 because his brightened as well, and it was all the sweeter for the sense of nervousness she 
 felt in it.  
 
 “You here to meet someone?” He smiled at her.
 
 “Yeah, My name is Daphne.”
 
 “I’m Matt.”  
 
 They shook hands like business associates, and giggled.  She climbed in, as he asked where 
 did she want to go.  Okay, maybe this is not a smart idea; it wasn’t.  But something about 
 him, something she couldn’t describe, made her feel at home with him, like an old friend.  
 Maybe it was his nervousness, how it showed through in the mundane chattiness she listened 
 to. Maybe it was her own hormones outweighing her judgment.
 
 With the thought of parking, they took off toward a large mall.  They drove through the 
 darkness, feeling each other out first verbally, then a bit physically, hands traveling 
 thighs, shoulders—hair.   By the time they reached their destination, they were 
 comfortable with each other, definitely wanting each other.  But the parking lot was 
 very bright, and not exactly conducive to what they had in mind.  They began to wander 
 the back roads, and found an open lot.  They drove up, and shut the lights off.  
 
 There was an awkward pause as they looked at each other. They smiled, and leaned into each 
 other for a kiss. It wasn’t a timid kiss; they fell to each other as one would at a feast 
 after a famine.  Their hands pulled at their clothes.  She tugged his shirt out of his 
 waist, as he slid hers off her shoulders.  Scrambling in the small car, they squirmed 
 to rid themselves of barriers.  Still kissing, they lurched into the back seat.  She 
 reached low and felt his hard, thick cock pointing upward.  She measured it with her 
 hand, sighing into the kiss appreciatively.  She released the kiss, and slid down low 
 to give such a beautiful cock the appropriate worshipping it deserved.  She flicked the 
 head, watching it jump, and absorbing the guttural moan it incited from her companion.  
 She smiled up in the half dark, and slid her mouth down over the head, applying pressure 
 and a gentle suction.  Her hands moved over the rest of his length, until they reached 
 his balls, which she lightly squeezed.  Her mouth continued its journey down, moving 
 slowly up and down the length of him, savoring the wonderful feeling of cock in her 
 mouth.  She would moan at the simple pleasure, and then smile at the jerk his cock would 
 give at the added stimulation.  He sighed warmly, brushing her hair back, before pressing 
 her on her back.  
 
 She could see the pleasant smile in the dark.  He gave her a small kiss, then began to 
 worship her in the same respect. His tongue teased her core, flitting one side, then 
 the other; never entering, never hitting her clit.  She squirmed in delirium, panting 
 wildly.  She stroked his hair, until he started entering her. Long slow licks finishing at 
 her clit, making her squeal and jump.  She arched into his mouth, her legs unconsciously 
 wrapping around his head, holding him in tighter as she neared her own orgasm. Her moans 
 became louder, more insistent, as she felt the delicious tension getting closer and closer 
 to breaking. She screamed his name as she came.  She felt him sit up, her legs limp around 
 him, as she heard him open a package.  Then he was on her again, pressing into her.  She 
 shuddered, so close already to another orgasm, so well was he filling her. She shuddered 
 beneath him, her fingers digging into his back, careful even now not to scratch or 
 leave marks.  He pressed into her slowly, eliciting a deep guttural moan from her.  
 His pace quickened, both hungry for each other.  Her body began to bow as her second 
 orgasm came upon her, shrieking into the dark.  As she came back down, she pressed him 
 back, and straddled his lap.  She pressed her chest into his, kissing him warmly, and 
 began to ride him.  She smiled into the kiss, shivering occasionally at the feeling of 
 him inside her.  She sighed into the shared kiss, and felt him begin to tense. She rode 
 him harder and faster, feeling his own completion nearing.  He groaned as he came, and 
 even with the condom, she could feel it against her sides.  She continued to ride him, 
 softly, slowly, drawing out his orgasm as long as possible.  She settled over him as she 
 heard his breathing slow and become more controlled.  They kissed each other softly.
 
 “Wow.” He whispered to her.
 
 “Mmmhmm, you’re rather incredible yourself.” She smiled back at him.  She gave him a soft kiss.
 
 They moved to the front seats, and began making sense of their disarrayed clothes.  She 
 leaned over and kissed him again.
 
 “I’m glad the others stood me up.  This was FAR better.” She smirked.
 
 He smiled back, with a small amount of disbelief in his eyes.  He started the car, 
 and drove her back to the McDonalds and her car.  They touched each other gently on 
 the way back, asking about the small details of the other’s life, falling into the comfort 
 of the other’s company, and she realized she liked him on a personal level as well as a sexual.
 
 When they arrived, they exchanged email addresses. Yes, they did keep in touch…
 
 But that is another story.
 
 Copyright Dryad (gbbjg@yahoo.com) 2002]]></content:encoded>
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	</item>
		<item>
		<title>blond dates</title>
		<link>http://preggyblog.com/pregnant/blond-dates/</link>
		<comments>http://preggyblog.com/pregnant/blond-dates/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 10 Nov 2008 16:46:03 +0000</pubDate>
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	<category>8month</category>
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		<description><![CDATA[]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[ This is a work of fantasy. It is not about real people, and if it is, its not what they 
 would do. (not that you are likely to know them anyway). If you are under 18, go away, 
 since I don’t like to get in trouble. If you are turned off by perversion, what are you 
 doing at asstr? In other words, go away. If none of this applies to you, great! Read on! 
 Have fun! Let me know  what you like!
 Oh, and I work hard on my writing…so guess what? Its mine. That’s right boys and girls…its 
 copyrighted…so if you want it? Just ask- we’ll talk.
 
 Dryad
 ******************************************************************************
 
 “Oh, God, I’m horny!” she thought to herself.  She began looking through the chat room for 
 fresh meat.  This one was too far away, this one wanted a submissive…She started humming an 
 old song, “Where have all the good men gone…” she giggled to herself.  She teased this one, 
 cajoled that one, was frankly a little cyber cock tease, hoping to entice someone within her 
 range.  
 
 She knew what she wanted. A hunger this deep was not going to be quenched with a single man, 
 no matter how incredible he was.  She felt herself crawling her mental walls, shrieking in 
 need.  “For all the supposedly horny men in here, you’d think I could find a few that wanted 
 a good time!”  She felt herself getting even wetter, and knew she’d have to clean her chair 
 once more after she got offline.  She squirmed, finding a few friends interested, but timing 
 just wasn’t there.  She moaned audibly, looking for some sort of relief beyond her humming toy.
 
 “Where do you live? How old are you? Are you married?  What do you like?”
 She felt like she was interviewing for a position; then she smirked to herself, in reality 
 she was, her ass, her mouth or her pussy.
 
 She got quite a gang going, even others looking for her, wanting a full report of the 
 activities in repayment.  She made dates with a few, setting up one for that evening that 
 might lead to something more group oriented another night.  With time and a public meeting 
 place,  (She was horny not stupid) she got offline.
 
 She squirmed.  After all, she didn’t know these men.  She wanted to dress sexy, accessible, 
 but not so sexy or accessible as to invite danger if the man wasn’t all he was cracked up 
 to be.  She wore a just above the knee miniskirt, one she often wore to work.  No nylons, 
 they’d get in the way, and she hadn’t worn underwear unless necessary for a number of 
 years now.  She wore a soft sweater, one that would tease her skin, and possibly their 
 hands.  No makeup, so perfume, so careful to think of their positions, as some were married, 
 and who wanted to get snagged on a simple thing like a perfume?  She pulled her long coat 
 over her outfit, fluffed her long hair, grabbed her keys, and headed out the door.
 
 The first meeting. They were to meet at a local college.  She was there a few minutes 
 early, between anticipation and location; it was much closer to her.  She sat outside, 
 waiting to see who came up to her.  Students milled around her, some catching rides 
 from friends and parents. She looked at the time, realizing he was late.  If it was one 
 thing she couldn’t stand, it was someone who was late.  But, to be fair, perhaps he had 
 a problem finding it, or traffic, or parking.  So she waited.  
 
 A half hour after the designated time, she got up and drove the short distance home.  
 His loss.  While she was still violently horny, and getting hornier by the second, she had 
 to laugh at her new lesson…some men were all talk, and couldn’t follow up.
 
 “God, I need something…and its not getting any better!”  She gets back online, and starts 
 over, picking up where she leaves off.  One who had spoken of meeting, but had been too 
 late, catching her after the other.  Nothing really stood out about him; he was another 
 in a sea of human sexuality. But he was close, really close.  Her mind went offline, and 
 her libido took over, asking him to meet her at a McDonalds.
 
 She shivered in anticipation, unable to keep her fingers out of her pussy on the way there.  
 It felt so decadent, so crazy to meet a total stranger for sex.  She pulled up, looking for 
 a blue foreign car.  She was a few minutes early, but he was closer to the place than she was.  
 She saw one, but saw two men in it.  It wasn’t exactly the model she’d been told, but she’d 
 never been good at cars.  Perhaps seeing how she was playing online had made him bring a 
 friend.  She saw them look at her, and wondered why they didn’t come over.  They looked 
 uncouth, scraggly.  She shuddered for a moment, wondering what she’d gotten into.  When 
 they didn’t come over, she got out of her car, and walked up to theirs.
 
 “Are you here to meet someone?”
 
 “Yes, we are.” The one in the driver seat replied.
 
 “Do you mind if I ask who?” she was still hoping.
 
 “Oh, just his brother.” He jerked a finger at his passenger and he smiled with his tobacco 
 stained teeth. “You have a blind date?”
 
 “Yeah, is it that obvious?” she smiled, being polite, too relieved to mind anymore.
 
 ...End of the part1. To be continued..]]></content:encoded>
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	</item>
		<item>
		<title>The Art of the Kiss</title>
		<link>http://preggyblog.com/pregnant/the-art-of-the-kiss/</link>
		<comments>http://preggyblog.com/pregnant/the-art-of-the-kiss/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 09 Nov 2008 16:38:03 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid>http://preggyblog.com/pregnant/the-art-of-the-kiss/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[ 
 His lips breathe softly over hers; the merest hint of a touch.  They do not linger,
 but pull back, so his eyes could gaze into her faraway eyes. She smiled slowly, 
 leaning into him. Their lips connected, embraced, teasing—nuzzling lightly.  His 
 tongue flicked out to trace the sensuous outline of her lip.  Her own tongue flicked 
 out to meet his own, tempting him further. He pulled back his tongue, closing his lips. 
 He taunted her unmercifully, making her moan slightly.  She leaned further into him, 
 greedy for his kiss.  Languorously, he nuzzled, softly brushing his lips.  Her mouth 
 opened in reflex, silently begging for a more intimate attention.  With a low moan, his 
 tongue entered her softly. He flicked at her own tongue, before exploring her upper palate,
 her teeth, her cheek.  Slowly he made his way around, languidly.  Her arms wrapped 
 around his neck, as her chest pressed into his.   She did her best to entice him, 
 to draw him further, but he held back.  She whimpered in need, and he smiled into her 
 lips.  His actions became more energetic.  Teeth nipped at her lips, before suckling 
 on her tongue, pulling it into his mouth.  She returned the heightened ardor, nipping 
 on his own lip, sucking it into her mouth before releasing it. As he did, his hands 
 roamed lightly over her back, caressing her before pulling her even closer to him.  She 
 leaned into him eagerly, their tongues rolling over the other’s like acrobats at play.  
 They exchanged breath.  Fingers tightened on each other’s bodies.  They pulled apart 
 slowly, smiling.
 
 
 copyright Dryad (gbbjg@yahoo.com) 2002]]></content:encoded>
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	</item>
		<item>
		<title>Afraid</title>
		<link>http://preggyblog.com/pregnant/afraid/</link>
		<comments>http://preggyblog.com/pregnant/afraid/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 08 Nov 2008 16:53:02 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid>http://preggyblog.com/pregnant/afraid/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[ By Dryad
 
 I was walking into Mr. Allan's class when Gary spoke to me.
 
 "I signed up."  
 
 "Signed up for what?" For a sport? For a class? What?
 
 "The Marine recruiter is down in the guidance office." The Marines? Was he crazy? I looked into his face. Purpose and excitement.
 
 "What about College?" I guess I was saying what about me. He thought it was a fucking game! Go play soldier. Didn't he realize people DIED?
 
 Died. Then I got scared. I mean, we'd been going out for 2 years now, ever since he moved into town. 
 
 "You know I gotta go. College will be here when I come back." He kissed me. The bell rang, and we took our seats. English class flew by; I didn't hear a word. I sat next to him, covertly watching him.  
 
 After English, we went down to study hall. The junior/senior study hall was open, and ever since the war began, they'd put the large screen TV in there, so we could watch CNN. We sat close to it, watching the night-vision commentaries; him in anticipation, me in dread. I held his hand, as if I could keep him here with me. 
 
 I took a deep breath. All the "experts" seem to say it won't last long. So I began to do something stupid. I started to pray. Pray to God, pray to fate, hell, pray to any greater being who'd listen. Make it end. Make it end before graduation.  I gripped his hand tighter. He looked at me, questioningly. I couldn't answer. I rested my head on his shoulder, and he wrapped his arm around me.  I willed myself not to cry.
 
 Fuck. I hate being selfish. Here I am worried about me, how it will affect me and my plans.
 
 "Why?" I finally managed to whisper.
 
 He squeezed me tighter,  "Aw, honey, it's not about you, it's about what's right."
 
  He was the one who was going. Willing to stand up to the bullies of the world; hell, whip their ass.  I squeezed him tightly to me.  The teacher walked up to us, make us split up, I'm sure.
 
 Then he did something strange.
 
 "Gary, you were in the guidance office this morning, weren't you?"
 
 "Yep."
 
 "You're going?"
 
 He nodded shyly. Gary was always cute that way; one of the things I loved about him was his modesty. Like he never realized what a great guy he was.
 
 Instead of making us sit apart, he just smiled this weird adult smile and walked away. I swear, I nearly lost it.  I felt Gary kiss the top of my head, his arm holding me tighter to him. We sat and watched the news repeat the same news bytes over and over until the end of study hall.
 That night he came over after he got home from work. He asked my parents if it was all right if we went out for a drive, since it was a school night. My parents of course, loved him. My dad just nodded when I told him that Gary'd enlisted. He seemed to expect it. Maybe its some sort of guy thing that I just can't understand.
 
 While he was at work, I poured my anger into my diary. My hurt, my fear. Because as I started thinking about it, I realized what it was. 
 
 I was afraid. Afraid how this would change him, change US.  I knew change was coming, I mean, we're leaving school; but I never considered that we'd be apart.  War is so REAL. What would I do if he died? I can't act the widow; we aren't married. All I heard in my head was "just a girlfriend" Just. Jesus. He could have at least talked to me about it!
 
 But he couldn't. I tried to be logical about this. It's his life. Hell, in some ways, he thinks it's a responsibility. And damn it, I hated to say it.
 
 It is.
 
 Then I got really proud of him. HE didn't need to be called; he enlisted of his own free will.  He knew what's at stake.  And part of me--the part that isn't selfish-- loved him even more.
 
 I'll try to be a bigger person. I quashed down that selfish part, told it to shut the hell up, that it doesn't know what it's talking about.
 
 So when he asked my parents if we could go for a drive, I knew what he was asking me.  My parents, said yes, though they never had before.  We drove around for a bit, just quietly talking about whatever, but avoiding the real topic.  We made it to one of our make out places. Yes, we had a few. He turned off the car, and we climbed into the back.  For a while, he just held me, kissing me softly. I sat in his lap, curling up against him. My fingers traced his face and I could feel his smooth skin. I sighed into the kiss. 
 
 I leaned into his body, wanting him closer to me.  In my head I was already counting down the time to when he'd be shipped off to San Diego for basic. Three months, more or less. Five months until he'd be shipped overseas. I sighed again, holding him close to me. His hands moved to my waist, sliding beneath my shirt and skimming my chest to my breasts. I shifted in his lap, and straddled him, as his hands shed me of my shirt, momentarily breaking our kiss.  His lips returned, but to my breasts, rather than to my mouth. My back arched as I moaned in response. His mouth was hungry, and I was desperate for this closeness. My fingers worked through his hair, pulling him closer to me.  He rolled, and placed me laying on my back.  The moonlight reflected in his earnest eyes. I could see the unspoken question in his eyes.
 
 I leaned up and kissed him gently, easing his t-shirt over his head. We kissed again, my chest pressed up against his chilled skin. His body shivered, and it made me smile. Suddenly, I felt powerful. I nibbled on his chin, my fingers sliding down his back to his jeans. A slight tug got him looking at me again.
 
 We tried to squirm out of our respective jeans, both of us giggling at the contortions necessitated by the small confines of the back seat. Then, he came to me. I could feel the heat his dick brought against my thigh. I shivered, not sure of the decision I was about to make.
 
 For the last 2 years, I'd said no. Victorian charm, fear, censure, morality; call it what you will. I loved Gary. He knew that. And it's not like I never let him do anything; we'd fooled around as much as any other teenage couple; we just never actually "did it".
 
 But fear is a powerful thing and I needed to be closer. I arched into him, moaning his name, as he nibbled at my neck. I pressed my pelvis into his, silently begging for more. Gary must've felt the difference in my reactions because he leaned up from me. I gave a barely perceptible nod.  
 
 Shaking, he asked, "Are you sure?"
 
  I leaned up to kiss him in response. He jumped, and I had to giggle as he hit his head on the roof of the car. He reached into the front seat to get his wallet out of his jeans, and pulled out a condom. Putting it on the ledge behind the back seat, he leaned back down to kiss me.  His fingers went down lower, teasing my pussy.  His fingers moved within me, making me jerk beneath him. My breath became ragged, until I was begging him. Quickly he slipped on the condom, and nervously pressed his head against my opening. It felt different, bigger than his fingers, firmer. I breathed deeply, shakily as my body started to get used to the feeling. I opened my eyes to see him watching my face for my reactions. I smiled gently at him and pressed back against him. 
 
 I felt the pull as something tore, and my body tensed. He groaned, visibly shaking to keep still.
  He murmured, "God, you are so beautiful," then slowly pulled out.  It ached a bit, then he pressed gradually back in. He moved gently inside me, his eyes focused on my face. I watched the concern and love and yes, fear, in his eyes. Even in the half-dark, I could read their glittering depths. I leaned up and kissed him, first tenderly, then more passionately.
 
 It was as if I had given him permission, and he was pressing into me more and more firmly. The ache was gone, only a fullness and a yearning.  I pressed up against his bucking thighs, moaning incoherently.  He continued, as he stroked the sweat soaked hair out of my face. I could feel his thrusts getting choppier. With a deep groan, he jerked against me, and I felt the sudden expansion of his dick.
 
 I was panting, still unfulfilled.  He collapsed against me, kissing my breast, moaning against my skin.  Suddenly, he shifted, his hand reaching lower. 
 
 "I'm sorry. I just couldn't help myself. You're so beautiful." He gasped out.  And as he said it, his fingers found my clit, flicking it quickly. My inner muscles squeezed against his deflating cock, causing him to moan. His fingers moved faster, practiced at making me cum this way. It didn't take him long to get me to join him, and I was shrieking my praise.
 
 We laid down together spoon style on the seat, his arm curled around me, holding me to me.  I felt him whisper in against my hair.
 
 "You're so beautiful."
 
 "You've said that already."
 
 "Well, it bears repeating. I love you." He was quiet for a moment, his fingers moving idly over my skin.  "I'll come back. I promise." His fingers stilled, then squeezed me. 
 
 I whispered quietly as I turned to look at him, "don't make promises you can't keep."
 
 "Your love for me will keep me safe." I looked at him. If he weren't so serious, so earnest, it would have sounded like the corniest thing in the world. But I saw the look in his eyes. And there was nothing I wanted more than to believe him.
 
 Copyright Dryad (gbbjg@yahoo.com) 2003
]]></content:encoded>
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	</item>
		<item>
		<title>God in Heaven</title>
		<link>http://preggyblog.com/pregnant/god-in-heaven/</link>
		<comments>http://preggyblog.com/pregnant/god-in-heaven/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 07 Nov 2008 16:18:02 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid>http://preggyblog.com/pregnant/god-in-heaven/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[ By Dryad
 (MF, Exh, Flash)
 
 Her hand gripped the bench in front of her before returning to her lap.
 
 "What are you doing?" she whispered frantically.
 
 His enigmatic smile and his fingers climbing her thigh beneath her dress were his only answer.  They brushed lightly, teasing her sensitive skin.  Her lids fluttered as he caressed small circles on her inner thigh, creeping ever closer to the line of her panties.  She squirmed, trying to dislodge his hand, but he was determined.  His eyes focused forward, but his hand...
   
 She shifted upon the bench, sitting ramrod straight. Her body was tense as his fingers cleared the barrier of elastic and softly stroked her damp lips. They receded, then returned only to delve deeper. His fingertip found, then fluttered, over the taut pearl he unearthed. Again and again he flickered his finger against it until she thought she'd faint with bliss. Her hand tightened on the papers in her lap, rustling them slightly.  She could see the ghost of a smile on his face as she fought for control.  Her teeth bit down on her lower lip, holding back her need to moan, to squeal, to cry out.
 
 And still his fingers teased and tempted her core.
 
 She felt the tension coming, afraid of coming, not wanting to come, but as certain as the sun, the waves started to envelop her.
 
 "Oh, GOD!" she cried out.
 
 "Can I have an 'Amen, Sister!' Another Soul saved!" the preacher called out as the congregation turned toward her blushing face.
 
 copyright Dryad (gbbjg@yahoo.com)2003]]></content:encoded>
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	</item>
		<item>
		<title>Eddies</title>
		<link>http://preggyblog.com/pregnant/eddies/</link>
		<comments>http://preggyblog.com/pregnant/eddies/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 06 Nov 2008 16:17:02 +0000</pubDate>
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	<category>9month</category>
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		<description><![CDATA[]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[ [A Fisherman's Widow Tale]
 (MF, Exh, WL)
 
 Copyright by me, ask for permission to repost. If you can't go see a NC17 movie, get outta here. Blowjob principle applies. 
 Thanks to Desdmona!!! for her grand editing work...And Nick Scipio and Gary for ummm clearing up my "maleness"
 *************************************************************
 Escape
 By Dryad (MF,Oral,cheat)
 
 I rapped my knuckles on the screen door as I held the box with my other hand.  Another quick job; replace a CDRW drive, get in and get out. I sighed as I looked at my watch. I waited a few moments, then saw her peek through the glass.
 
 First I was struck by how her girl-next-door features fit the voice I heard when I called to set up the appointment. As she opened the door for me, the second thing I noticed was a bit more unprofessional of me: her nipples pressed out against her soft sweater.
 
 "Come on in," she said as I shook myself out of my reverie. "Ignore the mess, I haven't had a chance to clean."
 
 She led me through the kitchen. A few breakfast dishes sat in the sink. On the table, an open tin of crayons sat beside a small stack of coloring books. This was nothing compared to some kitchens I'd been forced to walk through. "Whose kitchen DOESN'T look like this?" 
 
 She shrugged and kept walking. I followed. She was truly small--barely five feet. At six-foot-four, I tower over the average woman. She would barely reach my chest.
 
 We passed through an equally lived-in but well kept living room to her office. She looked embarrassed as she led me in.  "I'm sorry it's such a disaster. It's supposed to be my office, but all sorts of stuff ends up getting tossed in here." 
 
 I could see her point--broken toys, a Barbie house, and linens all jockeyed for space with the books and computer equipment in the small room. This was obviously her workspace, so why did everyone throw all their crap in here? Didn't they care?
 
 I sat down at the computer and began work--reset the screen, checked drivers and such.  Verified the specs on the RAM, virus protections and the CD-RW driver. Her computer's system wasn't going to support the new CDRW that was sent so it was a good thing I brought the new program. After optimizing, it was time to open up the housing.
 
 I'm used to having clients hang around and watch what I'm doing. After all, it is their system, their house. Doesn't bother me. She stayed close though, closer than most carrying on inane chatter;
 
 "Have you been doing this long?" She moved things about on her desk without any sort of rhyme or reason, her arm occasionally bumping into mine.
 
 "A while; about five years." I watched her from the corner of my eye as I worked. She flitted about like a bird, staying at my elbow, shuffling papers, then reshuffling them.
 
 "Are you nervous?" I finally asked.
 
 "Not at all!" she answered shrilly. 
 
 "No need to be," I said as I opened up the tower.  I turned to explain what I was going to do. She leaned over my shoulder for a closer look. Her breast brushed against me, and her nipple, hard as a pebble, pressed into my shoulder. It took a moment for me to refocus on what I was supposed to be doing. My fingers fumbled.
 
 She pointed to the small flashlight I was using. "I could hold that for you if it would help." I didn't really need it, often doing this by sense of touch, but with her body so close to mine, my hands were unsteady. So I agreed.
 
 She moved behind me and scrunched up close in the tight confines of the room. Her chest grazed my back. She moved like a feline--soft and sleek--but something was holding her back.
 
 "Just a bit more this way." I placed my hand over hers, redirecting the light. I was amazed at the difference; my large, thick fingers over her delicate, pale hand. Her fingers were cold, belying her earlier contention of not being nervous.  
 
 "What do you use the computer for?" I asked, trying to get back on track.
 
  "I design web sites. Work for a couple different companies." She shifted, bringing her body close to mine again. "I like the flexibility of working from home.  If one of the children is sick, I don't have to worry. If I want to go out for lunch, no big deal." She was animated yet more relaxed than before.
 
 "Well, it's a lovely home you have." Not bad for working from home.
 
 "My husband's and mine." Her entire demeanor became subdued. The energy she had just seemed to disappear. 
 
 "You're married?" I was surprised.
 
 "Yeah."
  
 "What does your husband do?" I straightened up, having gotten the drive out. 
 
 "He's a bus driver." Her tone was abrupt.
 
 "Kinda opposite ends of the spectrum there, huh?" She nodded, focusing on my hands. I pulled the new drive out of its packaging. 
 
 "That's it? That's great! They told me they wouldn't be able to upgrade!" she rubbed her hands together, suddenly excited once more. I wonder if she realized how quickly she changed the subject, or for that matter, her mood in general.
 
 "Well, your old drive was actually obsolete. Can't even find it anymore. So now you have this one. It's why your old driver won't work."
 
 She grew silent as I worked the drive into the casing.   She leaned closer into me, and I have to admit, she was making me feel hot under the collar. I knew she could hear my quickened breath, but damned if I could stop it or quiet it. I focused myself on getting the disk drive into the housing. It was a tight fit.
 
 Of course, that set my brain in a whole other direction; at five feet tall, she would fit so snugly against my body, and my body shifted at the thought.  I finally forced the stupid drive in, and I pinched my finger.
 
 "Shit!" A really good blood blister began to bubble up. I made a tight fist until the sting diminished a little, and turned back to my work. With the drive in, I was able to close the tower back up and install the driver.   
 
 While it was loading, I asked her where the facilities were.
 
 "Right around the corner," she said, nodding towards the hallway.
 
 I took care of business in the small room then washed my hands in the sink surrounded by children's toothbrushes and Blue's Clues soap.
 
 As I came back from the bathroom, I noticed it. A hole in the wall.  Directly across from the office door, a large hole, as if someone had been leaning against the wall to break down the office door, and instead broke through the sheetrock. You could almost see the indent of a shoulder. Don't know how I missed it before. She'd apologized for just about everything else in the house, she must've forgotten the hole was there. How could you forget something like that? It reeked of anger. I shook my head. She didn't belong; but then again, no woman belonged in a place that bespoke of violence.
 
 I went back into the office. Her back was to me, fiddling with books on the bookshelf, straightening papers on her desk. I watched for a moment, then cleared my throat. She jumped at the sound before turning around. 
         
 "You're blushing." I could smell her scent, could see her fighting some need 
 
 Her hand flew to her face, cupping her cheek. "Really? I haven't blushed in ages."
 
 "Mmmhmm. Right down your chest." I looked at the dip in her V-neck sweater.  Her eyes followed my gaze. A crimson flush blazed across her pale flesh. She surprised me by lowering her hand and stroking her flushed skin.
 
 "Would you like to see how far down it goes?" She said it so quietly, I almost missed it. 
 
 Her head was down, not looking at me, as if she were a good little catholic girl about to give her first real confession. My God, she was shaking! I cursed the fool who made her feel ashamed of her body, ashamed of her desire. 
 
 "Whatever you want to do is fine with me." I struggled with wanting to touch her, comfort her, but it wouldn't be me choosing how this thing continued. This was her battle, her demon.  Slowly, she lifted the hem of her sweater, pulling it up over her breasts. My breath caught. 
 
 She was beautiful. 
 
 Her skin something a Renaissance artist would have painted. She looked up at me, saw the look on my face, my hands clenched at my sides.
 
 "It's okay if you want to touch them."  My fingers itched for just such a thing. The round curves leading up to her crinkled, apricot nipples. Slowly, as though reaching for a skittish colt, my fingers brushed up the outside curve of her breast. My fingers circled their heft, kneading them gently, then more firmly.  Her body shivered and swayed against me. My thumbs flickered lightly over her nipples. She moaned softly at first, then with more fervor.
 
 Her tone shifted, and I knew she was about to ask for more. My hands moved over her warm, malleable breasts as my brain raced ahead to what I should--what I _would_ do--if she asked.  She deserved better than what I'd seen, certainly, but I also knew this wasn't about me. Her hand left my chest and I could hear the soft sound of a zipper being undone. Suddenly, she stepped away from me and left her skirt in a puddle on the floor at her feet. She stood there for a moment in all her nude glory.  I didn't know what to do.
 
 She took the decision out of my hands when she suddenly knelt before me. Her fingers raked my pants down my legs, raising a sigh from me.  My dick popped out and her eyes grew wide. Her fingers touched me as she looked up.  It jumped at her touch, and I was no longer able to deny her anything.  She placed her warm lips against my head and sucked it into her mouth.  My legs shivered, and I pulled the computer chair over to me.  I collapsed in it, and she never lost connection.
 
 She was amazing and enthusiastic, that much was certain. She could take my entire length in her mouth and throat, a feat all in itself. But she also managed to know exactly when I was about to come and pulled back just enough to keep me on the edge.  It was about the third time she did this when my brain kicked back in, and I realized that this was all wrong. Not necessarily the sex, that was her choice, but that here I was taking and not giving.  From what I'd seen, that in itself was a gross error.
 
 Slowly, I pulled her off my aching cock and turned her around.  She looked concerned until I began to stroke her steaming pussy.  God, she was so hot and wet.  Her knees buckled, and I caught her.  
 
 "Lean back." I hushed.
 
 She fell back against my chest, her head nestled into the crook of my neck. My hands continued to investigate all her secrets, finding first her moist depths, rubbing quickly against her clitoris.  Her body arched and climbed up higher on my body.  Her moans became squeals, and then squeals became whines. One hand wandered back up to her soft breasts. I picked up speed over her clitoris, and whines turned into shrieks.  Tension eased from her body as she lay against me, sated.
 
 After a few moments, she whispered, "Let me return the favor." 
 
 "You don't need to do that," but she had already slipped between my legs, sucking my hardness back into her gifted mouth.  She slid my thickness deep, making me squirm and utter sounds I haven't uttered in ages.  My fingers gently stroked her hair from her face as I moaned what few words of praise I could squeak out. It didn't take long this time for me to feel the impending onrush.  I grasped the chair's armrests until my knuckles were white as my orgasm erupted into her mouth.  I was shocked as she continued to swallow. The head of my penis squeezed in her throat. My groaned "Thank Yous" mixed with my cries to God as I continued to pump into her mouth.
 
 It took me a moment to regain my sense of self. At first, I felt a bit guilty for taking advantage of her, but her radiant smile soon put that thought, at least temporarily, out of my head.  I sighed as I pulled myself back together.
 
 I still had a bit of work to do.  Reluctantly, I checked the new drivers, making sure everything worked well. I called my boss to let him know the new additions and the edited time of my arrival. I boxed up the old disc drive while she signed my paperwork.  She led me to the door.
 
 I stood at the door, looking at her dispirited beauty. Having to leave but not wanting to. "If he's not careful, he's going to lose you."
 
 She nodded. 
 
 I looked for a moment longer, then stepped out the door.
 
 Copyright Dryad (gbbjg@yahoo.com) 2003
]]></content:encoded>
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	</item>
		<item>
		<title>Annsachd MF First WL part2</title>
		<link>http://preggyblog.com/pregnant/annsachd-mf-first-wl-part2/</link>
		<comments>http://preggyblog.com/pregnant/annsachd-mf-first-wl-part2/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 05 Nov 2008 16:46:03 +0000</pubDate>
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		<description><![CDATA[]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[ 
 "A Bath? M'lord. T'is not healthy!" I bit my tongue as soon as the words spilled out, even though everyone knew bathing made you ill.  He glared down at me.  I blushed in my embarrassment, curtsying, "I'm sorry m'lord, I've forgotten my place."
 
 Aline, the maid, who I found was a distant cousin of Tilde, tried her best to make me feel comfortable.
 
 "Bathing here isn't the same as it is in the village. Warm water, in very warm room, with scents in your bath to make you smell fresh as the dawn.  I will be with you until he comes to you, so do not be afraid, Child.  It will not be long." And a mutter under her breath as she led me into the bathing room, "it never is."
 
 Ignoring that cryptic comment, I started to loosen the ties on my dress. She helped me to pull it over my head, stopping a moment to look at the work. "You and your mother do very fine work.  You should be proud. It is a lovely dress."  
 
 I nodded and smiled, but felt odd to be standing in my shift before a stranger.  My face must have heated up, for she took a sonsy tone, "Don't worry about it, child. T'is common, and nothing I have not seen before."
 
 Slowly, shyly, I pulled my shift over my head then stepped cautiously into the tub. The water felt like nothing I'd been in before.  Sweet herbs and steam teased my nose as I slowly slid into the full tub. I felt myself relax in the warmth until I nearly forgot what was about to occur.  It was much too soon when I stood to be rinsed, and was rubbed dry.
 
 "Put this on, dear." This was a beautiful night shift of fine linen, finer in fact than anything I had ever seen.
 
 "Oh, no, I couldn't! T'is far too fine for me."
 
 "Tosh! Take it Child, it's the only thing of any value you'll take home from tonight.  As though he could replace what he will be taking, but he gives one of these to each bride that comes." With a nod and a shrug, I pulled it over my head.  She pulled the torch of rushes off the wall, before climbing stairs.
 
 The room itself was fairly dark. The logs in the fireplace and the rush torch were the only light in the room. A large bed was silhouetted by the light, making it seem larger and more imposing.  I fell back, and brushed against Aline. "T'is only the light that makes it fearful. Go in, and I will get you settled."
 
 I crossed the chilled room, and clambered up into the high bed.  So soft! I couldn't imagine how many winter fowl had died to make such a comfortable bed. The bedclothes were heavy and warm.
 
 It was then I determined not to be swayed by such richness.  T'would be easy to do. This is not here for me, but for M'lord, to whom I'm about to become a chore.  My Ian loves me, and I would rather be in our little home, on a heather mattress than here surrounded by all these riches about to be sacrificed in the name of some Lord.  I'll do my duty, but I don't have to enjoy it.
 
 Aline tucked me in, then withdrew with the promise that she would be back after Lord Farrington left.
 
 I heard him enter before I saw him, He was without his wig, and I could see his hair was thin for the firelight reflected off his scalp.  He shucked of his clothing and moved across the bed.  The bedclothes were removed from my body, and he pulled up my nightdress. I felt his substantial weight over me, and felt him press against me. I forced myself to relax, somehow knowing it would be worse if I were tense. This seems so wrong! I wanted to cry out, but knew t'would be no matter. He pressed into me, feeling my maidenhead. I could feel the pressure, the dull ache. He began to hum and mumble some bawdy tune from court, and I gasped. He thrust through it and though I wanted to scream, I would not give him the pleasure. He continued to hum, thrusting in and out of my limp body in rhythm to the song. Such an odd habit.
 
 The blood made it easier to endure. Not that it was really much to endure; shortly after, he trembled mightily, then fell to the side of me, removing himself from my body.  A few moments more and he gathered his clothing and left.
 
 Praise the Saints!
 
 It didn't take Aline long to show up.
 
 "If ever there was a time when I would be grateful for one of those baths, Mistress Aline, I believe it t'would be now." I murmured.
 
 "Of course, Child, come with me. Do you feel you can stand?"  
 
 "I am stronger than I look." Stronger than that man, that much is for certain.
 
 We made our way back down the stairs to the bathing room.  The tub was already filled.
 
 "You knew?" I was astonished.
 
 "T'is common to feel the need to rid your body of an unwanted touch.  I would have been more surprised if you had NOT asked."
 
 I nodded mutely, anxious to be in the bath. My body slipped in and I let the warmth remove the feeling of his clammy skin and foul breath.
 
 "Mistress Aline, may I ask a bold question?"
 
 "Of course."
 
 "Is it always like that?" It couldn't be. Ian loved me. But I had to know if that is what I had to look toward to.
 
 "Goodness no Child.  The lord has no love of you, nor quite frankly, love of the deed.  Your true wedding night will be much different, and I daresay much better."
 
 I nodded in response, thankful at least that my feelings were right.
 
 I don't know how long I was in it, but Aline helped me out.  Once again I dried off, and pulled on the nightshift.  This time she led me to a different room.
 
 "You can sleep in peace here, child." The room was small, with a common bed.  I gained comfort from those things that were known to me. It took me very little time to fall asleep surrounded by the scent of heather.
 
 The next morning, Aline once again helped me to dress. I hugged her, appreciating all she had done for me.  One of the lord's men held me gently in front of them.  He went slowly, and I can only guess he was considering my comfort. I whispered a thank you for his kindness.
 
 The trip seemed shorter this time, perhaps because it was something I was looking forward to.
 
 The wedding party was still there, since the first Prima Nocte, the village would continue the party to keep the groom occupied and in reasonable cheer. I rushed down, turning only a moment to thank the lord's man for his attention. Then I rushed to my Ian.
 
 He only looked better to me. I reached for him, hoping he would not hold what was done against me. I looked in his eyes, and saw the relief as he rushed toward me and swept me up into his arms.
 
 "Annsachd, I will love you always," he said as his lips, warm and full met mine.
 
 The village party quickly began singing, leading us to our new home.  We would be left there to celebrate our wedding properly.  Gifts of food would be left at the doorstep for the first few days, a tradition I'm told is particular to our village.   Ian lifted me up and carried me into our new home, his strength making me feel delicate.  Then, the door was shut and we were alone.
 
 "Did he hurt you?" he whispered.
 
 "No more than should be expected."
 
 His voice grew quieter as he sat on the edge of our bed, "Will you miss him?" 
 
 "Oh, Annsachd!" I kissed him gently as I settled into his lap, "He may be Lord, and he may have fine things, but he has no fine manners.  And all I could consider was this, even surrounded by that finery, I would rather be here, with you, even in our poor home. He had no love for me, and I'm not even entirely certain he knew my name." My hands ranged his muscled shoulders and arms. "I missed you. And I did not make love with him.  It was no different than setting a prize boar on a sow. He did his rutting with no spare thought for me, good or ill, and left.  He did what he was required to do, as did I."
 
 I pulled away enough to look him in the eye. "Would you help me forget that?"
 
 His lips fell quickly onto my own, his hands tugging at my ties. My own hands fell to his  clothing, and I could not wait to see what sort of prize I had won when I married him.
 
 We were quick and clumsy and we fell into bed beside each other. Hands moved over fevered skin, and I felt my own heart race.  I looked into his face, and his eyes sparkled in the half light.  The look seemed to change him, and he dawdled.  His fingers drew fanciful designs upon my skin, causing me to moan in frustration; of what I knew not.
 
 "Ian, Annsachd, please…." 
 
 He smiled, "Oh, I will please you, I will please you and myself as well." His tongue flicked over my breasts and I gasped at such a touch. His fingers slowly crept toward my center, until they were there, exploring my tenderness.
 
 I moved against him, desperate.  My body knew, yet I did not. His lips trailed kisses down my stomach and then…
 
 I went fuzzy. Hot breath and warm gentleness. I could feel my innards curl in waves, like the wind across the fields of barley.  Finally, I could stand the tension no longer, and I cried out to God.
 
 Ian quickly came back up to me, kissing my face, my eyes, my nose, my cheeks before settling back on my mouth. A different taste was on his lips, but t'was not foul. I felt his hardness press me, and almost against my will, I tensed. Then I forced myself to relax. This t'will be different, Mistress Aline said so.
 
 
 A fullness I could not imagine filled my core. Slowly, so slowly, Ian pressed into me. I opened my eyes to see him watching my face closely, looking for signs of my discomfort. I smiled warmly at him, at this man I truly loved, and pressed back into him.  I had been selfish, and wanted this to be as beautiful for him as for me.
 
 I raised my hand up and around his neck, pulling him to me.  I sought purchase to press myself farther against his shaft. I felt the waves begin again, and I sighed into the kiss we were sharing.  I felt him shaking, and thought that it t'was nearly over.
 
 "Shhh, Annsachd, I want to make this good for you. Do not rush me or we will be over before we've begun," he said in a tortured whisper. And then I understood the shaking was his lapsing control. I tried to still my body, I did. But he felt so wonderful inside me, his warm skin against mine, and I could not help myself. I bucked against him and heard him moan.  Such a sweet sound.  I bucked again, and he growled. His hands moved to my hips to still me, but I was in a lust.  I could not be stopped, and the waves crested. I screamed this time, my body releasing its tension wave after wave.
 
 He looked down in amazement, his own breath coming in gasps. "You are beautiful, Annsachd, So beautiful." And then he began to thrust wildly, pulling my hips against him. I continued to moan in that half sense caused by bliss. My body relaxed, so relaxed.
 
 Ian, my Annsachd, my beloved, let out a mighty roar, and I could see the same tension course through his body.  I pulled him down to me, tight against me. 
 
 It was then I heard it, "Huzzah! Huzzah!" and music began to play.  I was certain if I went to the door now, there would be food upon the step, and the villagers would be celebrating our true union.
 
 I chose to stay where I was, curled up against Ian and listen to his heartbeat. It would not be long before my humours came upon me. And then we could start working on our family in earnest.
 
 Copyright Dryad (gbbjg@yahoo.com) 2003
 
 Author's Notes:
 I don't usually do quite this much research for a story, but I thought I would share what I learned.
 
 Prima Nocte, First Night, or Droit de Signeur is a right that lords had where they could sleep with the subject brides on their wedding night.  Most of my research states that this was not usual, more pockets than a universally followed right. It was used more as a literary tool.  It first appears in the mid eighteenth century.
 
 Powdered wigs also came into popularity during the mid eighteenth century. It made its way north from France, where Louis XIV brought it into style when he began losing his own hair.  It was common for men to shave their heads to make the wig easier to wear.  They were out of style as a fashion statement around the 1820's in Europe.
 
 Annsachd is Scot's Gaelic for "beloved".
 
 Even in the eighteenth century, peasant houses were usually mud and wattle (woven branches).  Wood, especially in the highlands of Scotland, would be a rare commodity.  Stones were often used, but took much more work and knowledge so they were usually reserved for community buildings.
]]></content:encoded>
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	</item>
		<item>
		<title>Annsachd MF First WL</title>
		<link>http://preggyblog.com/pregnant/annsachd-mf-first-wl/</link>
		<comments>http://preggyblog.com/pregnant/annsachd-mf-first-wl/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 04 Nov 2008 16:41:03 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>Administrator</dc:creator>
		
	<category>8month</category>
	<category>pregnant stories</category>
	<category>preggy sex</category>
	<category>pregnant tits</category>
		<guid>http://preggyblog.com/pregnant/annsachd-mf-first-wl/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[ 
 
 T'was the proper season. The barley crop had been harvested, the shearing done.  My man.  Goodness, the sound of that. Ian asked my father in the spring, and now that the bans had been observed, we were free to wed.
 
 The village was excited.  Everyone thought that Ian and I would be a good match, ever since I was a child.  The day before the festivities, the children ran out and picked wildflowers.  The wedding was to be done during the harvest festival.  My mother took my dress out beyond the village, and set it across the sweet grass to bleach white in the sun.  We spent most of our spare time over the summer making the dress and other things I'd need for my new home.
 
 Ian had also been busy over the summer.  He built our home near the edge of the village, where out the window we would be able to see the sheep grazing in the distance. The mud on the wattle had dried nicely, and t'would be a snug home.  He'd built the few pieces of furniture we'd need, the bed, tied well with rope, and the mattress full of heather.  He whitewashed the inside, so it seemed bright and airy.
 
 We'd met with Father, where we learned about our new roles. He explained what the Latin said in the service, and how loving each other was an extension of God's love for us.
 
 He also explained about Prima Nocte.
 
 One of the greater lords, an Englishman, had proclaimed that the lords under him have the right and duty to bed each woman under his rule on the night of her wedding.  Ian turned green at the notion.  My Ian is a brave sort, but it was the law, and nothing he could do.  Father looked understandingly.  A woman should pair with her husband; "Therefore, what God hath put together, let no man separate." He had no love of the law.
 
 Of course, what Father didn't share with us then was why our lord felt so inclined to force such a sinful law upon his good people.  
 
 The eve before the wedding, Father asked me to come to chapel to pray with him. When I entered, I saw the midwife speaking with him. I attempted to stay in the shadow, as I didn't wish to interrupt a private matter.
 
 "Evie, come my child. Tilda is here for us tonight," he called out when he heard the door shut behind me.  I slowly made my way up to the altar.
 
 "Before we start our prayers, my dear, we must purify ourselves.  Drink this."
 
 The midwife handed me a cup. "Drink it all now dear."
 
 I sputtered on the first sip, "T'is bitter!" Then, seeing the look they gave me, nodded and did my best to finish the drink.
 
 We knelt before the altar, praying that I would follow the good and true path of wife.  We prayed to that men in power would see the sinful nature of  Prima Nocte.  We prayed to God to forgive me and to console my soon to be husband for the morrow. "in Deus, Patri et Spiritus Sanctus," the father intoned, as we all crossed ourselves.  We bowed to the altar and moved away.
 
 "Evie," the midwife called to me.  
 
 "Yes, ma'am?"
 
 "Expect your humours to attend you in two to three days." She looked at Father. "The purifying drink will bring them on."
 
 Certainly, I will go to hell for this! It is sinful! I gasped aloud.
 
 "Yes, dear. I know. But desperate times call for desperate measures. And I tell you in Father's presence, you are still a child of God, and will not be punished in this life or the next for what you've done this night."  Father nodded, blushing.
 
 "T'will protect your womb from a seed that does not belong there. When your cycle starts, our Lord will know he has not sired off you, as he has not done off a girl from this village in these past years. Have you not heard what they call him in court?"
 
 "Now, Tilde, we do not need to pass around court gossip.  It has served us well to remind our Lord that he cannot bend God's will and command.  You must submit your body; there is nothing we can do about that.  But we have protected your family."
 
 "Thank you, Father. Thank you, Tilde. I must go and tell Ian. He t'will be relieved. By your leave?" Father nodded, and I hurried out of the chapel.
 
 I explained to Ian, who then laughed. "I always wondered how it was that there were never any of his seed running about here.  It does take trouble off my mind. Not that I don't want you round with our child.  I look forward to seeing you like that. Often. Ours will be a big, happy family.  You'll see, Annsachd." He whispered this last to me, his mouth close to my ear. I turned, so I could feel his lips against my cheek.
 
 The morning was bright, and I danced about in glee. "Thank you God, for such a gift!" My mother smiled at me for speaking such out loud.  I was a bit sad, no longer would I be in this home, most of my belongings had already been moved to the new house.  A few linens, a few changes of clothes, as I would wear my wedding gown to the Lord's keep.
 
 Mother and my sister helped me put on the dress, tying the laces, and tucking in bits of rosemary for remembrance and late heather to match the crown the children had woven for me.  We walked carefully through the dusty street to the stone chapel.
 
 Everyone was there, the entire village; my rivals, my friends, my family.  My father walked me to the altar, so he could speak when it was time to give me away. My big, bold, brash father, bless his heart had tears in his eyes.  
 
 I smiled at Ian as we knelt beside each other and received communion from Father.  We stood up as he declared the benediction. Ian leaned into me, his lips soft against mine, while his strong arms gently wrapped around me.
 
 I'd never been happier.
 
 Then we were all outside, enjoying the bright fall sun.  The pits had been opened so there were roast meats and harvest vegetables and late fruits, honey cakes and mead. Ian never left my side, touching me as he never felt free to do before.  His hand on my waist felt warm and possessive.  His hand would come up, and stroke my loose flowing hair, as though he'd never truly felt how soft it could be.  
 
 We ate, we danced, we spoke with friends.  We knew our time was growing short. So did the village, and they pretended to not notice when we snuck off by ourselves.  We knew the punishment if the Lord did not receive a virgin. But we touched, and murmured and caressed.  His lips that were always soft and careful, were now full of passion, heat and desire.  I wanted nothing more than to melt into him.  To let him take me to our new home, and make me into a woman, HIS woman.  I murmured against his lips, that I was his wife, his woman, my heart and soul.  His strong arms crushed me tighter to him. My own arms squeezed him as well.  Slowly, we drew apart, and returned to the festivities, knowing we would be called shortly anyway.
 
 We returned, with our arms around each other, both of us just wanting to get the next twelve hours over with. We didn't have to wait long before our Lord rode up on a grey charger.
 
 "Where is the bride I am to see?" The Lord looked over the gathering.  You could see he once sat proudly on this steed, but his posture had started to crumble and sag into his gut.    His wig was beginning to look weedy, and the white hair only made his face look more sallow.
 
 I attempted to step forward, but Ian's grip tightened around my waist.
 
 "Annsachd, please don't make this harder for me. It is not my choice, but t'is my duty." I whispered then touched his hand. He slowly released me, but followed me closely as I moved toward Lord Farrington.
 
 "I am here, M'lord."
 
 Ian took my hand and turned me to him.  His lips fell to mine softly, whispering softly against my lips, before taking me boldly, his tongue an invader in my mouth. Then his kisses became caresses until he moved away. I didn't want him to, until I heard Lord Farrington clear his throat. I blushed mightily, realizing it probably wasn't the first time, and I had not even noticed. Ian lifted me by my waist as though I t'were a bundle of twigs and placed me before Farrington.
 
 "M'lord, I realize I cannot stop what happens this night. But harm her, and even the angels will not protect you. I give you my oath." Farrington, whom, I would guess had heard many words such as this on similar wedding days, simply nodded curtly.
 
 Lord Farrington's arms were around me as he held the reins, the horse going at a brisk canter.  It was obvious he wanted to reach the keep before dark.  My body stayed tense, since there was no way to truly hold onto the horse the way I was on it, only relying on M'lord's arms to keep me from toppling into the horse's hooves.
 
 It was dusk when he pulled to a stop at the gate.  A number of people were waiting there.  I suddenly felt shy. I'm just a country girl, not some high raised child. He handed me over to a kindly looking maid.
 
 "Bathe her then bring her to my chamber."
 ...End of the part1. To be continued..]]></content:encoded>
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	</item>
		<item>
		<title>8 Hours</title>
		<link>http://preggyblog.com/pregnant/8-hours/</link>
		<comments>http://preggyblog.com/pregnant/8-hours/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 03 Nov 2008 15:42:03 +0000</pubDate>
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	<category>3month</category>
		<guid>http://preggyblog.com/pregnant/8-hours/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[ by Dryad
 (F-solo)
 
 She moaned in frustration.  She pulled the wet pink dildo out
 of her glistening cunt. "Fuck! New batteries again!" she moaned,
 flicking open the battery cover and dumping the rechargeables
 out onto the bed.  She reached for the stand pulled out the
 freshly charged batteries and put them in. She looked at the
 clock, figuring the battery time.  2 hours. Shit.
 
 Sighing, she pressed the pink gel cock back into her yearning
 pussy. The hum was louder now, more insistent, reverberating in
 her pussy and against her clit.  Yet still...
 
 She pulled the laptop closer to her, scanning for stories that
 would get her going. Going through her favorite authors...good
 stories...but not enough sex. She started pulling up the stroke
 that normally she wouldn't touch--hot, nasty and fast.  The
 vanilla stuff wasn't working, so it was time to find more
 unusual fuel to jumpstart her motor.
 
 Read stories on bondage. Warmer. Humiliation-warmer yet.
 Aliens, dogs, horses, rape...each took her baby step closer, but
 still so, so far away.
 
 She glared at the clock, which was laughing at her.  Four hours
 and still no relief.  She flicked on the TV and filled the room
 with sounds of pornographic fucking-titled thusly as it sounds
 different from your normal average fucking, because the
 enjoyment sounds pathetically fake. Men with big-titted women,
 women with women,  women getting double fucked, and even triple
 fucked.
 
 Guess you can only listen to so many cries of "Baby ooooh,
 yeah, fuck me good" before it doesn't do anything for ya.
 
 She groaned in frustration, reaching for her bedside drawer.
 She pulled out the 10 inch, thickly veined plastic cock and
 swirled it in her mouth.  Once it was dripping with saliva, she
 lowered it, pressing it below the still vibrating pink toy. The
 pressure caused the pink dildo to vibrate more harshly against
 her pubic bone as the head of the new toy popped into her sticky
 pussy. Feeling quite full as she pressed the new toy deeper into
 her cunt, she thought perhaps now she could finally cum.
 
 She squirmed on the bed, her hips working against the double
 assault in her cunt, and yet still she was stuck in third gear. 
 She screamed and cursed in frustration, moving her hips faster.
 Her hands worked the two dildoes in a syncopated rhythm, moving
 faster and faster.  Finally, she reached for the nearby phone
 and flicked off her toy's noisy vibration.
 
 "Hi Crissy, let me speak to Adam please?"
 
 "Just a moment, Mrs.South." the hold muzac came on as she
 turned the vibrator back on, getting a pleasant jolt.
 
 "Hey sweetheart, to what do I owe this surprise?"
 
 "Do you have any meetings this afternoon?" she said
 breathlessly into the phone.
 
 "No," he paused. "What's that noise in the background? Are you
 shaving the dog?"
 
 "Mmmm" she answered noncommittally. "Can you come home early?"  
 
 "I guess so. You need help with something?"
 
 "Yeah. I need something that only male muscle will fix."
 
 "I'll be home as soon as I can get away then. Love you."
 
 "Love you too," she said as she hung up the phone.
 
 She flicked the movie back on, and reset the vibrator to low,
 knowing that relief would be there soon. She squirmed a bit on
 the bed, relishing now the constant ache in her pussy. The movie
 ended, and she rewound it back to the beginning, then drew the
 computer near her, reading up on rough sex and humiliation. The
 batteries, having gone for nearly 3 hours straight now, were
 starting to give back out, so she took the next set out of the
 recharger and switched them. Since she had to stop, she decided
 now might be a good time to go to the bathroom, since Adam might
 be home soon.  When she returned, she squeezed the dildoes back
 in her tight twat. She moaned and squeezed her tit, making the
 nipple rise up. She pinched it between her fingers, feeling the
 small shock down to her core.
 
 It was some time before she heard the front door open. Floating
 in a sexual haze, she called out, "I'm in the bedroom!"
 
 She could hear him coming down the hall... "Honey, I brought Mike
 home to help me. I figured you needed to move something heavy."
 
 He stopped dead in his tracks when he reached the bedroom door,
 Mike gaping over his shoulder.
 
 "Hi honey. You left something turned on at home."
 
 
 Copyright Dryad (gbbjg@yahoo.com) 2003
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	</item>
		<item>
		<title>BOUNDFN2COM Comments on Bound for Fun I  II part5</title>
		<link>http://preggyblog.com/pregnant/boundfn2com-comments-on-bound-for-fun-i-ii-part5/</link>
		<comments>http://preggyblog.com/pregnant/boundfn2com-comments-on-bound-for-fun-i-ii-part5/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sun, 02 Nov 2008 16:04:04 +0000</pubDate>
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	<category>pregnant stories</category>
	<category>pregnant movies</category>
		<guid>http://preggyblog.com/pregnant/boundfn2com-comments-on-bound-for-fun-i-ii-part5/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[ made it into a quite nice place to live, with an old converted cistern as
 a "dungeon" play-room.  The ambience is unbelievable.  Joe's clients are
 willing to pay his now much higher prices, for the thrill.  Joe can charge
 more now, because he doesn't have to do it, to make a living.  His mail-order,
 and personal sales of his line of "Dungeon-Ware" is quite good, and growing.
 
 IN>Do they win the lottery and keep having kids?
 
 The only "lottery" Joe is interested in, is the "baby-sweepstakes" that
 Lynn has once a year, when they reenact her "lesson" in rape.  Other than
 that, Joe doesn't gamble, and neither do the other two.
 
 IN>(Actually, I would not worry about the lottery if I were Joe.  He has
 IN>already won big.)
 
 Amen.
     _____
      /  '               /
   ,-/-, __  __.  ____  /_ 
  (_/   / (_(_/|_/ / <_ / <_
 
 BTW, I'm going to try to save all of these comments, and put them in the
 package when I send it to you.  I'll remove all references to your name,
 and to you, when I do.  You can then edit it again, and put it out to the
 net, as a comment on the story-line.  I'm not sure if it should go to
 a.s.s, or a.s.s.d.   Probably to a.s.s, as it does kind of complete the story.
 
 IN>Frank,
 
 IN>Well, the wait may not have been worth it, I'll leave that up to
 IN>you to decide, but here are my editorial comments on your wonderful
 IN>"Bound for Fun" stories.
 
 <whew !> (Sound of a man releasing breath he's held for days.)   ;-}
 
 IN>First , "BfF I"
 
 IN>>  MY GOD!  For the first time, I realized just how far I had  gone.
 IN>>  Not  only  had  I came in the little  girl,  possibly  (Probably)
 IN>come in the little girl...
 IN>...
 
 No, came is right.  Past tense of "cum" or come.  As in "I came, I saw,
 I knocked the girl up."  to misquote.
 
 IN>>   using  the diaphragm to protect her daughter from pregnancy  this
 IN>>   time.  Oh well!  At least ONCE, I had done it.  Actually squirted
 IN>>   my  seed  in  the little girl's unprotected belly,  that  it.   I
 IN>that is
 IN>...
 
 I already found and corrected that one.
 
 IN>>   and Mr. Jones attend to things, OK?"
 IN>>        "Okay  Momma.  If you say so."  Dutifully, lay back  on  the
 IN>Dutifully, she...
 IN>>   bed, and let me open her up, to her mother's administrations.
 IN>Did you mean ministrations?
 IN>...
 
 OOOPS!  You're right.
 
 IN>>   stimulation,  of having her mother poking around in her,  and  me
 IN>>   from  the thought of this incredible sexy, kinky  woman  actually
 IN>>   squirting my sperm in her own daughter womb, while making the kid
 IN>daughter's womb...
 
 OOPS again.
 
 
 
 IN>And then, "BfF II"
 
 
 IN>>   huh?  Frank looked almost like a nerd, but even though some would
 IN>>   consider him "over the hill" he still had the best imagination of
 IN>>   the lot of us, when it came to ingenious torture.  Especially the
 IN>>   kind  that hurt, but didn't damage.  Fred was a guy you'd  expect
 IN>Is this a Hitchcock-like cameo, Mr. McCoy?
 IN>...
 
 Weeeelll. . . somewhat.  Not exactly, but somewhat.  The description is
 close, but not completely true.  Especially, I DO NOT go for torture.
 even bondage, is not really my bag.
 
 IN>>   something.   It wasn't real, until that final blow.   Now  seeing
 IN>>   the knife sticking in her belly, while she reeled from the deadly
 IN>>   blow, it finally got home to her.  This wasn't a game, and it was
 IN>How do you reel from a blow when you are tied down?
 IN>...
 
 You're right.  It was her mind that reeled, not her body.
 
 IN>>   couldn't.   Any force over about two ounces, caused the blade  to
 IN>>   vanish into the sheath.  It was an amazingly effective  illusion,
 IN>>   especially when combined with fake blood canisters, but not worth
 IN>Doesn't the blade vanish into the handle?
 
 Right again!.  My mind slipped.
 
 IN>I hope these comments are of some value to you,
 IN>and of course, they are all from a friendly source, and not meant to be
 IN>barbed, even if they seem that way when viewed on a CRT.
 
 BARBED???!!!  Heck, those are FRIENDLY comments.  I even welcome barbed ones,
 if they show mistakes in what I was trying to get across.
 
 IN>I hope to hear from you soon!
 
 I'll try to edit in these changes, and the others we discussed sometime this
 week, and send you the final disk.  I'll also send along another story that's
 been sitting for almost a year, waiting to be completed, but neither Tammy or
 I seem to want to finish it, so we wrapped it up, and left it where it ended.
 It ends fairly nicely, but it was originally planned to be twice as long.  If
 we ever do finish it, it'll have to be "Chapter 2".
 
 IN>I have seen all of the material I posted (finally)
 
 I saw your second post, just the other day.
 
 IN>and have sent out some stuff to folks who missed part 1 of 4, etc.
 
 Thanks.
 
 IN>I will be posting more from your first disk soon.
 
 Could you send me another copy of the list of files I sent you?
 I forgot which, and I don't want to duplicate.
     _____
      /  '               /
   ,-/-, __  __.  ____  /_ 
  (_/   / (_(_/|_/ / <_/ <_
</whew></_>]]></content:encoded>
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		<title>BOUNDFN2COM Comments on Bound for Fun I  II part4</title>
		<link>http://preggyblog.com/pregnant/boundfn2com-comments-on-bound-for-fun-i-ii-part4/</link>
		<comments>http://preggyblog.com/pregnant/boundfn2com-comments-on-bound-for-fun-i-ii-part4/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Sat, 01 Nov 2008 14:53:02 +0000</pubDate>
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	<category>pregnant movies</category>
		<guid>http://preggyblog.com/pregnant/boundfn2com-comments-on-bound-for-fun-i-ii-part4/</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[ out any discrepancies there, I assume you bought that one, and the story
 can stand.  (Typos and other corrections gladly accepted.)
 
 BTW, the story is NOT about LYNN's suffering, but JOE's.  HIS hurt, is the
 one that's supposed to break your heart.
 Think about it, having to do that to someone you love, in the HOPE that
 it MIGHT save her for someone else.  To be willing to make someone you
 love, and had hoped to have love you, hate you, so that they'll survive.
 "Greater love hath no man. . ."  I think that being willing to give up
 the love of someone for their well-being, is at least as great, and THAT's
 the point I was trying to make.
 
 I'll admit, I WAS trying for shock-value, when Joe "did-in" her mother.
 I wanted to raise at least a LITTLE doubt in the reader's mind, whether
 or not they had figured Joe out right.
     _____
      /  '               /
   ,-/-, __  __.  ____  /_ 
  (_/   / (_(_/|_/ / <_ / <_
 
     ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
 
 IN>Frank,
 
 IN>Re whether Lynn was hoodwinked, yes, I think
 IN>Joe and her mother did a good job of convincing the trusting
 IN>starry-eyed girl that she was actually given up to a degenerate,
 IN>and that he would enjoy her, and then kill her.
 IN>Joe's suffering is evident.  Maybe you could put the "greater
 IN>love hath no man..." quote in the story.  It is both dramatic
 IN>and succinct of the feelings Joe must have gone through before
 IN>Lynn came over and all was patched up.
 
 I would like to.  I just can't think of a neat way (or place) to put it in.
 I'll re-read it, maybe I can.  Hmmmm.  maybe afterwards, in a comment by
 Lynn, or June.  I'll have to think about it.  It's a nice Idea, but I want
 the story to flow smoothly.  I'll try.  No guarantees though.
 
 IN>For my own version of "what is right" you might
 IN>also add in the epilogue that Lynn finished HS on the honor roll,
 IN>despite her bulging belly.
 
 Good point.  I'll fit that in somewhere at the end.  "After finishing
 High-school, Lynn has worked her way through college, and is now working
 on her doctorate by taking evening classes, while June and I watch the
 kids, sometimes alternating, and sometimes together.  Now that the oldest
 is 12, and can watch the younger ones, we find interesting things to do
 together while still maintaining a presence in the house."
 
 Something like that.  I'll have to work on it.  Any suggestions about this,
 or the other will be appreciated.  I think, that if I put in that Lynn's
 working on her doctorate, then her finishing high-school (honor-roll or not)
 would be superfluous.  What do you think?
 
 IN>Everybody seems to live and make love happily ever after.
 IN>Does Joe continue as a professional top?
 
 Yes, but in later years it becomes more of a side-line.  His main line
 becomes designing and supplying bondage clothing and accessories, with
 Lynn as his main model.  Do you think this needs to be in the story?
 
 IN>do Lynn and June become his beautiful and kinky assistants?
 
 Lynn does, as explained above.  June is closer to being a "top", than
 a "bottom".  Sometime she helps him with a fantasy with Lynn.  June remains
 as kinky as ever, but with her own twist on things.  How and why and where
 she gets those kids of hers, are each stories in their own right.  Joe
 THINKS almost all the kids are his, but he's not sure about at least 2 of
 them.  June likes to keep him guessing.  (BTW, outside of the story,
 for your information only, they ALL are.  June loves him just as much
 as Lynn does, and wouldn't dream of cheating him.  Make him THINK they might
 not be his, yes.  Actually HAVE anyone else's kids, no.  Joe suspects this.)
 
 IN>Does the huge family move out of the soundproof apartment?
 
 That's a bachelor apartment.  What do you think?  One-bedroom, bath,
 kitchen and tiny living-room, plus the one extra "dungeon" room.   Of course,
 the owners have bigger, fancier apartments, at sky-high rentals.  No, they
 moved to a small fixer-upper ex-farm-house, at the outskirts of the city.
 By the time the story ends, with the three of them working on it, they've
 ...End of the part4. To be continued..</_>]]></content:encoded>
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		<title>BOUNDFN2COM Comments on Bound for Fun I  II part3</title>
		<link>http://preggyblog.com/pregnant/boundfn2com-comments-on-bound-for-fun-i-ii-part3/</link>
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		<pubDate>Fri, 31 Oct 2008 15:57:02 +0000</pubDate>
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		<description><![CDATA[]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[ IN>     slipped past your spell checker.
 
 I'll be waiting with "baited breath", like the cat who ate cheese, and sat by
 the mousehole.
     _____
      /  '               /
   ,-/-, __  __.  ____  /_
  (_/   / (_(_/|_/ / <_ / <_
 
 P.S.    Do you mind if I save this letter, except for your name, and use it
         and my response to answer any future flames/criticism?  It helps not
         to have to do it twice.
 P.P.S.  I got the scanner, and recovered part-2.  Story follows this post.
         PLEASE don't get squicked, until you've finished the whole story.
         THEN feel free to let me have it with both barrels.  ;-}
 
         +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
 
 IN>     Frank,
 
 IN>1.  Using my last letter to respond to other critics, some
 IN>probably not as friendly.  I re-read the letter, and it is fine, except
 IN>for my personal identity, which you should please safeguard totally, and
 IN>the first paragraph.  The first paragraph is not only irrelevant to the
 IN>story, but also is pretty identifiable as written by me.  To those who
 IN>know me, that may be true of the whole thing, but they would not be able
 IN>to prove anything, so go ahead.
 
 I'll remove the first paragraph, and anything else that points to you.
 
 IN>2.  Have not yet had time to go over "BfF I" in the detail I
 IN>promised, to send you the minor typos, etc.  Hope to do so today,
 IN>if not, tomorrow.
 
 I'll wait on both stories for your criticism.
 
 IN>3.  "Bound for Fun II" - the blistering literary criticism!  ;=}
 
 IN>Anyway, I liked "BfF II"  It certainly
 IN>did not squick me.  It dealt well with the trust issues, and the whole
 IN>fascination with violence and torture as "fun" when in the real world
 IN>  1) they actually go on, and
 IN>  2) they are __NO fun.
 
 Amen.
 
 IN>Now, the literary hard part for me, is that I must tell you that you
 IN>did not pull the wool over the reader's eyes.  This reader, at least.
 IN>Jones is clearly too careful of Lynn's feelings, her peripheral
 IN>circulation, etc. etc. for him to actually be planning to kill her
 IN>This plot reminds me of the movie "The Sting"  I thought that
 IN>was a fantastic movie, because it was all about a sting operation, and
 IN>audience member thinks he is in on it, but in the end, gets totally
 IN>taken in himself, and actually gasps when it appears that one of the good
 IN>guys kills the other.  Again, at least this viewer.
 
 IN>I do not read a lot of the NC stories, except the Parker works,
 IN>and so I am not too good at telling you what a NC perpetrator must "think
 IN>like" in a story, but one thing is that he must be totally
 IN>uncaring about the victim, except regarding leaving clues.
 IN>Clues don't really have to do with
 IN>the victim, just protecting himself, but at least that as close as he gets
 IN>to giving a damn about the victim.  Jones is way too careful.
 IN>He is also clearly too nice a guy.  I really don't know
 IN>how to remedy this from the dramatic
 IN>viewpoint in the story.  That he is careful is okay,
 IN> but that he is careful of the girl's
 IN>feelings and comfort is not.  I don't know how to get across his care,
 IN>and maybe carefully and intentionally mislead the innocent reader, with
 IN>statements
 IN>that when read quickly look like the self-centered detail worries of a
 IN>schmuck trying to cover the clues, but on rereading after the surprise
 IN>ending actually may be interpreted to see that he was looking out for
 IN>her all along.  A difficult task,
 IN>but the only way I can see to get the desired effect and leave it in 1st
 IN>person.
 
 The idea was never to pull the wool over the reader's eyes.  The Idea was
 to see if you could convince the reader that "Joe" was good enough and
 convincing enough to pull the wool over Lynn's eyes.  Since you don't point
 ...End of the part3. To be continued..</_>]]></content:encoded>
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		<title>BOUNDFN2COM Comments on</title>
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		<pubDate>Wed, 29 Oct 2008 15:08:02 +0000</pubDate>
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		<description><![CDATA[]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[ 
 As I said in the preamble to the stories, they were written for a friend.
 After writing them, I managed to "lose" the second one on my hard-disk,
 only retaining a hard-copy printout.  This forced me into buying a scanner
 to recover "Bound for Fun II"  This is mentioned in passing below.
 
 I sent both stories to the friend for comment, with a gap between them,
 as I recovered the second.  The enclosed material is excerpts from our
 e-mail discussion of the stories.  I am publishing this as an addendum
 to both stories, to answer some questions (and possible flames) that
 might otherwise raise their heads.
 
 
 IN>     Frank,
 
 IN>     Thank you very much for the story "Bound for Fun" which I read last
 IN>     week.
 
 Thank YOU for the nice long response.
 
 IN>     Your story sure hits on some of our common and individual favorite
 IN>     themes. The girl is old enough for my tastes, I hope she is young
 IN>     enough for yours.
 
 She is.
 
 IN>     I loved the allusion to "Preggie Sarah."  That was really choice.
 IN>     You really have a thing for getting them pregnant, don't you?
 
 As I've said before, getting pregnant is one of my biggest fantasies.
 I'd give half of what I own, for the chance.
 I know that I'm not the only man to harbor such desires, and
 many women love the thought of BEING pregnant.
 
 IN>     The promise of a mother/daughter hot combo is also quite
 IN>     appealing, especially if both of them are kinked in the same
 IN>     directions as the protagonist, as they seem to be.
 
 They are, but in slightly different ways.
 
 IN>     I appreciate the fact that you stayed away from specific descriptions
 IN>     of the bondage, etc, which you are not an expert in.  This is great
 IN>     by me, since I find stories that start to read like parts catalogs for
 IN>     fetish wear to be tedious.
 
 I always toss the ones that are nothing more than a description of torture-
 devices.
 
 IN>     I am certainly no expert in bondage, although I have lurked about
 IN>     alt.sex.bondage for quite a while, but I think this story has some
 IN>     real-world problems with consensuality.  Please let me note at the
 IN>     outset that I __know this is just fantasy, and no harm done, etc. etc.
 IN>     But the aspect of consensuality that primarily concerns me is the
 IN>     pregnancy one.  Is the girl dumb, or am I?  Does she know that she has
 IN>     been knocked up, and approve, or is she being taken along for a ride
 IN>     by her trusted parent?  This could generate a lot of flames in a.s.b.
 
 A. She's dumb.  Well, not DUMB exactly, just WAY too trusting.  This is
    explored MUCH more deeply in the second story.  She trust EVERYONE,
    even when she shouldn't.  Most especially, she trusts her mother to watch
    out for her best interests, and in her own way June does.
 B. Does she know?  No.
 C. Does she approve?  I tried to make the implication, that she actually
    WANTS to get pregnant, but is scared to do it, because:
    1.  She isn't married, and doesn't even have a steady boyfriend.
    2.  She's afraid of what her school-mates would think, if she showed up
        at school with a bulging belly.
    3.  This is the kicker.  Most importantly, she THINKS her mother would
        disapprove, and she doesn't want to hurt her mother.  If it wasn't
        for fear of overburdening her mother with raising another child,
        Lynn would probably have already sneaked out and gotten pregnant
        anyway.  Her mother knows this, and implies at the start, that Lynn
        would have to "earn" the privilege of getting pregnant.
 
 IN>     Also, I think, again with the "this is only fantasy" caveat, that it
 IN>     would be pretty weird for a loving, caring mother, which this one
 IN>     seems to be, to leave her kid in the hands of a semi-pro BD
 IN>     specialist, with only threats of retribution to safeguard her.  I
 IN>     think a bit of talk about her extensive checking of Jones' background,
 ...End of the part1. To be continued..]]></content:encoded>
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		<item>
		<title>8 Hours</title>
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		<pubDate>Tue, 28 Oct 2008 15:52:04 +0000</pubDate>
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		<description><![CDATA[]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[ by Dryad
 (F-solo)
 
 She moaned in frustration.  She pulled the wet pink dildo out
 of her glistening cunt. "Fuck! New batteries again!" she moaned,
 flicking open the battery cover and dumping the rechargeables
 out onto the bed.  She reached for the stand pulled out the
 freshly charged batteries and put them in. She looked at the
 clock, figuring the battery time.  2 hours. Shit.
 
 Sighing, she pressed the pink gel cock back into her yearning
 pussy. The hum was louder now, more insistent, reverberating in
 her pussy and against her clit.  Yet still...
 
 She pulled the laptop closer to her, scanning for stories that
 would get her going. Going through her favorite authors...good
 stories...but not enough sex. She started pulling up the stroke
 that normally she wouldn't touch--hot, nasty and fast.  The
 vanilla stuff wasn't working, so it was time to find more
 unusual fuel to jumpstart her motor.
 
 Read stories on bondage. Warmer. Humiliation-warmer yet.
 Aliens, dogs, horses, rape...each took her baby step closer, but
 still so, so far away.
 
 She glared at the clock, which was laughing at her.  Four hours
 and still no relief.  She flicked on the TV and filled the room
 with sounds of pornographic fucking-titled thusly as it sounds
 different from your normal average fucking, because the
 enjoyment sounds pathetically fake. Men with big-titted women,
 women with women,  women getting double fucked, and even triple
 fucked.
 
 Guess you can only listen to so many cries of "Baby ooooh,
 yeah, fuck me good" before it doesn't do anything for ya.
 
 She groaned in frustration, reaching for her bedside drawer.
 She pulled out the 10 inch, thickly veined plastic cock and
 swirled it in her mouth.  Once it was dripping with saliva, she
 lowered it, pressing it below the still vibrating pink toy. The
 pressure caused the pink dildo to vibrate more harshly against
 her pubic bone as the head of the new toy popped into her sticky
 pussy. Feeling quite full as she pressed the new toy deeper into
 her cunt, she thought perhaps now she could finally cum.
 
 She squirmed on the bed, her hips working against the double
 assault in her cunt, and yet still she was stuck in third gear. 
 She screamed and cursed in frustration, moving her hips faster.
 Her hands worked the two dildoes in a syncopated rhythm, moving
 faster and faster.  Finally, she reached for the nearby phone
 and flicked off her toy's noisy vibration.
 
 "Hi Crissy, let me speak to Adam please?"
 
 "Just a moment, Mrs.South." the hold muzac came on as she
 turned the vibrator back on, getting a pleasant jolt.
 
 "Hey sweetheart, to what do I owe this surprise?"
 
 "Do you have any meetings this afternoon?" she said
 breathlessly into the phone.
 
 "No," he paused. "What's that noise in the background? Are you
 shaving the dog?"
 
 "Mmmm" she answered noncommittally. "Can you come home early?"  
 
 "I guess so. You need help with something?"
 
 "Yeah. I need something that only male muscle will fix."
 
 "I'll be home as soon as I can get away then. Love you."
 
 "Love you too," she said as she hung up the phone.
 
 She flicked the movie back on, and reset the vibrator to low,
 knowing that relief would be there soon. She squirmed a bit on
 the bed, relishing now the constant ache in her pussy. The movie
 ended, and she rewound it back to the beginning, then drew the
 computer near her, reading up on rough sex and humiliation. The
 batteries, having gone for nearly 3 hours straight now, were
 starting to give back out, so she took the next set out of the
 recharger and switched them. Since she had to stop, she decided
 now might be a good time to go to the bathroom, since Adam might
 be home soon.  When she returned, she squeezed the dildoes back
 in her tight twat. She moaned and squeezed her tit, making the
 nipple rise up. She pinched it between her fingers, feeling the
 small shock down to her core.
 
 It was some time before she heard the front door open. Floating
 in a sexual haze, she called out, "I'm in the bedroom!"
 
 She could hear him coming down the hall... "Honey, I brought Mike
 home to help me. I figured you needed to move something heavy."
 
 He stopped dead in his tracks when he reached the bedroom door,
 Mike gaping over his shoulder.
 
 "Hi honey. You left something turned on at home."
 
 
 Copyright Dryad (gbbjg@yahoo.com) 2003
]]></content:encoded>
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		<title>Something About Melinda By DrDan</title>
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		<pubDate>Sun, 26 Oct 2008 15:55:02 +0000</pubDate>
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		<description><![CDATA[]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[ 
 Copyright 1999 by DrDan
  
 It was only an email message from my girlfriend.  I mean, how ominous could something so seemingly innocuous possibly be? Melinda wanted me to meet her at 9:00 P.M. at her home. She hadn’t discussed the possibility of anything resembling a date for the occasion, so there were no definitive plans to go anywhere or to engage in any specific activities except for my visiting her at the house. Simple enough, one would think we would simply pleasure ourselves with one another’s company once we got together. Since I had never actually been inside her home before, I was certain that there would be plenty for us to see and do.
  
 Upon reading the message a second time, however, I felt the familiar sensation of beetles dancing in my stomach and goosebumps raising on my skin. The single paragraph email was more of an order than an invitation. There were no directions to call her to confirm things and it hadn’t seemed as though she’d considered the possibility that something urgent would arise at the last moment. The unspoken instruction was to drop everything and attend, an instruction she knew I was certain to follow. 
 
 With each successive encounter, Melinda seemed to be consolidating the rather dominant role she had defined for herself in our relationship. She was the one who initially pursued me at a party thrown by a mutual acquaintance, cornering and engaging me in a conversation about blues artists. It was a subject she somehow knew would pique my interest and about which she proved to be unusually knowledgeable, a trait that impressed me greatly. 
 
 When the conversation drifted to topics of a more personal nature, Melinda bemoaned the fact that her 5’11" frame and assertive nature intimidated many of the men she dated. She was indeed a rare beauty, tall and statuesque, of Asian ancestry and wearing a clingy jade green silk dress, a garment that accentuated her shapely body exceptionally well. I took the opportunity to reveal my interest in her. 
 
 "Well," I stuttered, "perhaps then you need to find someone older than yourself who’s maybe a bit more mature." I smiled broadly, pausing for just a second, "maybe someone like me." Melinda looked into my eyes, her curiosity piqued. 
 
 "And what makes you think that you’re older than I am?" She giggled just slightly, but knowingly, as though she were guarding a secret. 
 
 "Umm... it’s obvious." I smiled and shifted uncomfortably, not wishing to reveal too much. "You’re still a young woman, I’m approaching middle age." Melinda smiled and pecked me tenderly on the lips. 
 
 "Awww, that’s sweet," she cooed softly,  "but please remember that things are not always as they seem, and that it’s not too difficult sometimes to get yourself into more trouble than you had bargained for." 
 
 "Trouble?" I chuckled, sensing a cryptic come on. "I’d risk all the trouble in the world for someone like you." I watched her eyes widen as she licked her lips and looked me up and down, in much the same manner that a butcher would inspect a side of beef. 
 
 "Yes," she repeated, "trouble. You look like a man well worth having, but I need for you to understand what you’re getting yourself into" I shot a quick glance between Melinda’s legs as she uttered the words "getting yourself into." 
 
 "I would take that chance for the opportunity to be with someone like you," I smiled, eyeing her in the same manner she had me. 
 
 Melinda didn’t utter a word, rather she smiled and took me by the hand, leading me to an adjacent bedroom. The ensuing sexual encounter, while indescribably erotic in the conventional sense, was also one of the more esoteric trysts I had ever experienced. Melinda repeatedly licked my head and neck, and seemed to have an unusual interest in a tiny spot on my face where I'd recently cut myself shaving. She sucked on the small wound, successfully drawing a drop of blood, smiling as she swirled it sensually on her tongue. Melinda sucked harder and carefully drew a tiny stream of blood. She raked it across her teeth, smiling, then cupped my face in her hands. She pulled us nose to nose and swallowed slowly, her mouth puffing up into a contented grin as I lost myself in her earthy gaze. A powerful chill simultaneously danced up my spine, short circuiting my nervous system and briefly buckling my knees. I knew in the depths of my being that it was coming through her eyes. 
 
 Those eyes, gazing deeply into mine, piercing my psyche and laying a claim on my soul. 
 
 "On you knees, lover," she whispered, pushing on my shoulders until I crumpled deliriously to the floor. Melinda guided my head under her dress, between her legs, shrinking the size of my world, encapsulating me in a velvety darkness strongly punctuated by the aroma of her most intimate scent. I allowed my mouth to hang open, my tongue protruding ever so slightly.. until a strong hand clutched the back of my neck and pushed me into her sex. 
 
 I greeted the swelled, moist familiar shape of engorged labia lips with abandon; suckling, licking, kissing and slurping. I greedily swallowed her wetness like a dehydrated man inhaling the last few drops from a spent canteen. I was overcome with arousal, then dizziness, then an odd detachment as the secretions stung my eyes and dribbled down my throat. Melinda clamped her thighs around my face and spent herself on me, her moans muffled as I instinctively parted my jaws to catch and consume her gushing juices. 
 
 Melinda lifted her dress, split her legs and I dropped. I fought an odd altered state of semi-paralysis as I fell to the floor, watching helplessly as she methodically undressed us and mounted my stiff cock, fucking me hard and deep, pinning my wrists and raking her teeth across the soft skin on my neck. When she drew blood she sucked and lapped it luxuriantly as though she were a debutante at a wine tasting. Melinda rode herself to a long, throaty orgasm before dismounting and taking my cock into her hand. With a few short jerks I spasmed in climax,sending a rope of hot cum spewing across my stomach and chest. She smeared my spunk evenly across my body before piercing her own finger with a needle, carefully measuring out a few drops of her own blood and commingling it with my semen, forming a paste of sorts. I watched helplessly.. my limbs still feeling like lead.. as she dolloped the mixture lightly onto strategic areas on my body, my forehead, my neck, behind my kneecaps, and on my scrotal sac. Then she rose and stood over me.. licking her lips.. a predatory smile crossing her face. 
 
 "There is no turning back now, my love," I breathed deeply, feeling the paralysis abate a little. I looked into her eyes as she licked her lips. "You are to be mine." Melinda helped me to my feet, rubbing the mixture of drying bodily fluids deeper into my skin. 
 
 "I don't want you to shower today, darling." she cooed, "I want you to think about me all night and through tomorrow. I want our scents to linger and I want every thought that enters your mind to be prefaced with a thought about me. Now get dressed and go home." She turned and walked away, blowing a brief kiss as my strength returned. I staggered away, staying at the party only long enough to regain my composure before slipping away. 
 *********************************************************************** 
 
 I had no trouble finding the house. It was a modest, modern split level bungalow overlooking the ocean with an oversized front yard and a chained Rottweiler dog barking in the front yard. Although it was difficult to make out specific details in the darkness, it was obvious that the structure was tidy and well kept up. 
 
 I had an ominous feeling as I approached the house, having dated Melinda for some months now and nurturing a premonition of dread I was afraid awaited me on this particular day. We had replayed the sexual tryst that took place on our first meeting several times by now, at some times more intensely than at others. It always involved her consumption of a small quantity of my blood and my wearing a small quantity of hers. I couldn't help but feel a psychic exchange, a compromise of my free will, a progressive invasion of my soul strengthened with each encounter. Melinda was on my mind more and more frequently, and it became increasingly difficult for me to concentrate on my job or many of the more mundane matters of my day to day life. I found myself masturbating perpetually, neglecting my own affairs for the sake of fondling thoughts about my sweet siren. 
 
 The dog growled ominously at me as I teetered up the walkway. I jumped as he lunged for my leg, barely escaping the animal's clenching jaws as I retreated, hearing a sharp rebuke break the darkness. 
 
 "Bruce!" It was Melinda. "That will be enough of that." Melinda looked into my eyes as she swatted the retreating dog and smiled at me deeply, greeting me with a warm embrace. 
 
 "Don't worry, sweetheart, the puppy will not harm you," Melinda licked her lips, "only I will harm you." 
 
 She was casually dressed, wearing jeans, a T-shirt, and her trademark python boots. I smiled nervously and offered her my arm, which she took as she led me into the modestly furnished home. We seated ourselves on the sofa, at which time she kissed my forehead tenderly and caressed my hair. 
 
 "How are you feeling, darling?" Her concern seemed genuine enough. 
 
 "Well, I-" Melinda smiled. 
 
 "Nervous, scared, a little afraid of me, aren't you?" I nodded tentatively, pierced again by those globular brown eyes, softening and comforting me now as she stroked my hair again and cradled me in her arms. 
 
 "I know, darling.. I know. It's normal to feel that way right about now. My other pets all had the same experience, so be still. Don't make things worse by resisting me. I am here to guide you through this unsettling time. After tonight, things will become much clearer for you." Melinda leaned over to kiss me, pushing her tongue deep inside my mouth, enveloping me in the familiar canopy of control that had come to characterize our relationship. 
 
 She kissed passionately for a moment, then broke it off, abruptly directing my attention to an old high school science textbook she had placed on the coffee table. I thought it odd to punctuate an erotic moment by consulting a drab reference, but I said nothing. She leisurely picked the book up and began leafing through the pages. Melinda found the appropriate place and grinned. The article looked to be one about a specific insect. 
 
 "You know what? This has got to be my favorite bug," Melinda spoke casually and pointed out a picture of an odd looking little creature. I looked, mildly curious, wondering where she was going with this train of thought. "..Abrostocetus Hagenowii.. it's a tiny little wasp that lives in the western United States. It's a little carnivore which feeds primarily on carrion, but when it comes time for the wasp to reproduce, it does a very curious thing." Melinda looked into my eyes, licking her lips, then continued. 
 
 "It goes out and searches for an insect to host its eggs. Typically this is a beetle or some similar creature.. generally much larger than the wasp itself. It stings the beetle with a poison that disorients it without killing it. The wasp waits patiently for the poison to take effect, to make his prey nice and docile." Melinda took time out from her narrative to stroke my hair, placing special emphasis on the word "docile." 
 
 "The wasp then measures and chops off a portion of the beetle's antennae, effectively rendering it senseless. It then herds the confused prey into its lair, where it lays an egg on it and gives the beetle one more sting to put it to sleep without killing it. When the egg hatches, well..." Melinda smiled and closed the book "..let's just say that breakfast is served." I looked at Melinda's soft smile and squirmed uncomfortably, dreading that she was preparing to draw an analogy of some sort between the carnivorous insect and the two of us. I didn’t have to wait long. 
 
 "Relationships are funny, daniel. Really they are. There’s always a good deal of talk about equality and the equitable distribution of power. But in the real world, partners are seldom equals. Typically one partner very clearly takes charge." Melinda looked right at me. "In this particular case, I think the partner who has taken charge of things has been me, wouldn't you agree?" 
 
 "You've taken charge sexually, I will admit to that, but I don't necessarily think that means that-" Melinda laughed throatily. 
 
 "Oh, but it does. And I plan to prove it to you." She licked the tip of her finger, trailing it along my nose and lips slowly, resting it on a tuft of chest hair. "daniel, would you like to share with me what has happened to you since we met? Do you find yourself thinking about me a lot?" 
 
 "Uhmm.. I think about you, yeah.. but I think that's normal in a er-uhmmm.. man woman relationship." Melinda just laughed and licked her finger again, unbuttoning the top button on my shirt. 
 
 "I think you're not telling the whole truth, daniel. I believe that you think of me all the time. I believe that your first thought in the morning is of me and the last thought at night before you turn in is of me also." I gulped and sighed heavily as she locked her eyes onto mine. Melinda smiled and tugged my chest hair. Her voice lowered as she moved close to me and almost whispered in my ear. "I've bitten you, daniel. Just like the wasp, I have confused you and paralyzed you. I have disoriented you, rendering you nearly unable to function. The first part of my plan has gone well, very well indeed." I looked at her for a minute, horrified, then began to stand up. 
 
 "I think-I think I need to leave..." I stood up, but found myself dizzy, dazed, barely able to move. It was impossible to find the door. Melinda came over and grabbed my wrists, forcing them over my head and looking into my eyes. She spoke softly, unsmiling. 
 
 "Sit down, daniel.." Her grip was strong, my soul riveted. The senses that had betrayed me returned once I was in her grasp. The only option was obedience. I sat down and Melinda smiled. 
 
 "That’s very good, my love. Now let me explain a little bit about what is going to happen next. Please keep in mind that what I am about to impart to you constitutes ancient knowledge, very powerful and profound. If you weren’t already mine, I wouldn’t share any of this with you. However the process has already progressed beyond your mortal ability to stop it." She smirked and sat next to me, stroking my hair and wiping the perspiration from my brow. She took a deep breath and looked as though she was preparing to deliver a familiar speech. Melinda licked her lips and cleared her throat. 
 
 "Many centuries ago, a group of women who lived in the South American Andes discovered something very special about the psychic connection between the exchange of bodily fluids between people and the ensuing bond that may be formed from that exchange. In many cases, the bond is egalitarian, and people develop a relationship akin to one that close siblings would have." Melinda paused and smiled, gently stroking my neck near the carotid artery. "The ancient women, however, discovered that such an exchange coupled with very specific sexual acts allowed them to gain control of their partners to an almost frightening degree. They further noticed that each psychic and sexual conquest allowed them to restore their youthful beauty and vigor, and eventually that it allowed them to extend their lifespans for an extraordinary period of time." Melinda licked my neck, lightly scraping her teeth across my artery. I noted an increase in my heart rate, as well as a sense of impending doom. "The lifespans of the men, by contrast, tended also to lengthen by such exchanges. But they benefited in other ways as well, because the essence of the woman lived in them, providing a calming influence and checking their beastly nature for as long as they did live. The man also had an unusual opportunity to express his total devotion and undying love for his woman by offering himself to her in this manner." 
 
 "So you mean to tell me that you’re a vam- vampire?" I was aghast, trying to resist her but feeling the psychic leash tightening. Melinda laughed. 
 
 "No, silly. Modern vampire stories are based on the reality of what I just explained to you. They are also terribly sexist and inaccurate, since they almost always depict a male vampire and a female supplicant. Typical nineteenth century sexism, in my opinion. The reality is completely different, the roles are utterly reversed." Melinda smiled. "I haven’t taken your soul yet, but once I do you will feel the length, depth, and breadth of my power over you." I looked at her in disbelief, a rebellion welling within me. 
 
  "This is absurd. For you to lay claim to my "soul" based upon your swallowing a few drops of my blood is...ridiculous!" Melinda’s eyes narrowed as she looked down at me. I felt a familiar twinge in my stomach and those dark brown eyes burrowing through me. I sensed her displeasure but continued with my diatribe. 
 "..hypnosis, perhaps, or the inducement of a peculiar form of panic. I attribute that to some skillful erotic manipulation on your part. But a "soul" is far to ethereal to quantify, much less possess." Melinda only grinned and then spoke very, very softly. 
 
 "Oh but the soul does exist, daniel. Your soul will, in fact, be taken over by mine before the evening is over." She ran a finger along my forehead and nose, scratching very lightly, then down my lips to my neck. She pinched a spot on my throat ever so slightly. "Right there is a good place, I think. That’s always a wonderful spot to open a wound. The blood tends to gush, and the supplicant does stop resisting after only a few seconds." She smiled as I began to back away from her on the sofa. Melinda followed, scooting near. "Don’t worry, I won’t kill or even seriously injure you. But I am going to make you mine. You will know what it is to be overwhelmed by a force which you cannot comprehend." She smiled wickedly as I shook my head wordlessly, fearfully, trying in vain to keep her at bay. 
 
 Melinda reached out and grabbed me suddenly by the ear, pulling my head abruptly towards hers. I resisted, jerking away as she pulled harder and managed to snake her other hand through some of my hair. After roughly yanking my head to one side to expose the arteries bulging beneath my skin, she opened her mouth wide, clamping down hard on me and sealing the grip tightly with her lips. I felt her tongue briefly scan my defenseless neck, searching, probing for exactly the right spot, then shrieked in terror as her incisors punctured me, simultaneously drawing the blood from my body and yet holding me tenderly, beckoning me wordlessly not to fight her. I felt her skillfully take my essence from me, the blood spilling out of me in hot spurts at first until I became dizzy and detached, unable to resist her, perched on the cusp of losing consciousness. 
 
 She stopped sucking and just lapped at my wound now, seemingly able to stem the flow of blood from my severed artery magically with a few strokes of her tongue. She licked like a kitten, trailing her tongue leisurely across my neck, savoring the liquid that remained until she had consumed it, then blowing lightly on the bite to seal it shut before looking into my eyes. 
 I met her gaze weakened and barely to move or breathe, my mouth agape, so submissive and contrite. Her eyes were a conduit for something powerful, and as I lost myself in their depths I felt something enter me, an energy dancing electrically down my spine and then back up again, filling me with vigor yet not filling me too fully. Melinda leaned down and kissed me deeply, forcing her tongue inside me, painting the roof of my mouth with the taste of my own blood. She pulled back, regarding me, licking her lips and smiling broadly. 
 
 "Stand up and take off all your clothes." she said. "Do it slowly. Unwrap yourself like a Christmas gift for me." I did as she said, slowly rising and removing my clothing methodically as she kicked me a little with her boot.
 
 "Dance, boy. Don’t bore me. You need to keep me happy." I responded by dancing sinuously, sensually for her, moving licentiously to some imaginary tune I knew she was thinking of, teasing like a strip club performer and slowly disrobing. 
 I surprised myself and delighted her, my limbs taking a life of their own as my own motor skills were repressed. I took my cues from her gaze, ultimately winding up naked before her and suddenly weak again, collapsing into the couch beside her. She looked at me and smiled, stroking my hair, then forcing my mouth open. She deliberately cut her finger on my tooth and then removed her hand, dotting her blood on my face, neck, and shoulders, marking me, purring lowly. My body responded almost on cue with a deep sexual arousal as 
 she moved down to grope my genitals, deliciously painting them in blood as she did so. She licked my neck and face again, then paused to look into my eyes. 
 
 "We’re almost finished, daniel. Very soon now you will be mine." Melinda locked her eyes onto mine, pulling me into an inescapable psychic vortex. She continued speaking softly, sensuously, and very slowly. "The bondage I’m creating for you involves an exchange of fluids, daniel. I have extracted and consumed a good deal of blood from your body, but unless you extract and consume a specific bodily fluid of mine, the bond will not seal." She stroked my hair and tended to the wound on my neck with her finger, continuing. "The final exchange must be consensual. I cannot force you to relinquish your soul, nor would I desire the soul of one who would notwillingly give it to me." She kissed me tenderly on the cheek and looked into my eye, stroking my hair. "I’ve taken you this far, daniel, will you allow me to guide you the rest of the way into your new life?" I inhaled sharply and trembled, mustering my vanquished will, and glared defiantly, albeit weakly. 
 
 "No." I whispered, almost inaudibly. Melinda looked at me and broke into a giggle. 
 
 "No? Are you saying no to me?" I nodded as she continued to chuckle, almost as though she’d expected such a response. 
 
 "Please Melinda," I whispered softly, weakly, nude and rock hard before my fully clothed girlfriend. "please let me go. I don’t want this. Allow me to go home. Give me my life back." Melinda just smiled and spoke softly. 
 
 "Darling, if you want me to release you from your bondage, I will freely do so." She licked her lips and held me tightly, her hand stroking my rock hard cock. "You should know, however, that your carotid artery is severed. It is only the spell of dominance that I’m weaving which keeps your blood behind its walls. Should I release you now, you will likely bleed to death in less than a minute." She smiled triumphantly as I whimpered, not certain whether to believe her but knowing that a mistake could be fatal. She continued to speak. "So you see, sweetheart, while you may be free of me if you so desire, this is the last time you will ever say ‘no’ to me regardless of your decision." 
 
 Melinda smiled and abruptly stood up, breaking eye contact, striding purposefully across the room. "Come to me darling. Crawl to me. Give yourself willingly, unconditionally. Surrender to me. I give you a minute to decide before I break the spell. Choose your freedom and die, or be mine and live forever!" 
 
 My consciousness churned like a tornado. I looked across the room at Melinda standing, legs spread and arms crossed, licking her lips. She was so sexy, so powerful, and essentially irresistible. I crumpled to the floor and found myself crawling slowly, hand over hand, knee over knee, to where she stood. She looked down at me, expressionless, unimpressed. 
 
 "Tell me what you want, daniel. Tell me now, please." 
 
 "I want..." The words came with great difficulty "I want to be yours, Melinda." She looked down at me, smiling slightly. 
 
 "Mmmmm, I must have scared you then, mustn’t I?" She strode in a circle around me as my body began to weaken. I could feel the wound on my neck begin to crack open slightly, with a few drops of blood trickling out and spilling onto the floor. "Why should I have you now? Just a moment ago you wanted me to release you. Is your change of heart truly out of devotion to me, or is it to save your own hide?" 
 
 "Please, Melinda! I beg you!" A warm stream trickled down my neck, nestling in my chest hairs and dripping onto the floor. The severed artery was breaking open. "I don’t want to die!" 
 
 "Not good enough," she smirked. "Nobody wants to die. Either convince me now that I should take you or I shall shortly feed your carcass to the dog!" I shook with terror as the wound opened a bit more, the stream of blood gushing a little more freely, my senses reeling, lightheadedness setting in. I looked up at her in reverie, deciding suddenly to bare my soul. 
 
 "Oh Melinda, I-I must be dense. I have not been able to grasp what has been happening to me of late." I barely noticed as the trickle of blood began to slow. "I love you and want to be with you, but I am afraid of you as well. Please don’t misinterpret my trepidation. My first response is a cautious one when it comes to ownership of my soul, but if I were to give it away, it would be to you." Melinda looked down at me and smiled, mussing my hair ever so slightly. 
 
 "That is sweet, daniel. But do you really feel that way? Would you really give it freely if it were not forced upon you?" 
 
 "Yes, Mistress." It was the first time I had called her that. "To you, I would give it freely." Melinda held me close. The bleeding had stopped. 
 
 "Then I release you," she said. "The spell is broken. You will not die. Should you choose to walk away from this relationship right this minute, the wound will not reopen. You are free." 
 
 "No, Mistress," I nuzzled next to her legs. "I would rather that you take me if you will have me." Melinda smiled down on me, then bent over to plant a kiss on the crown of my head. 
 
 "Thank you, daniel. That is very sweet. We must complete the exchange in order to seal the bond. Are you ready to do that now?" I nodded, weakening just a little bit once again. She looked down at me. "daniel, I want you to use just your mouth to take down my pants, then I want you to pleasure me orally. When I climax, you will swallow all of it. You may feel a little strange as you do so. Don’t worry about that and don’t try to fight it. Just think of me, think of your life up until now, and consider what your future probably holds for you. Allow it to sweep you away. Is that clear?" 
 
 "Yes, Mistress," I reached for her belt using just my mouth. Melinda flashed an approving smile as I awkwardly tugged it loose. I wrapped my tongue and lips around the clasp holding her jeans up, and managed to unbuckle it. I unzipped the jeans with my lips and teeth, releasing a pungent, dizzying, intimate scent that served to weaken me a bit further as I tugged her panties down. Melinda grabbed me by the hair and began backing up, beckoning me to follow as she sat down on a leather easy chair, flipping her legs over my head, using her pulled down jeans to trap me between them as I found myself staring straight into her sex. 
 
 "Kiss me, slave. Worship me with your mouth and give me the gift of yourself." I nuzzled my way up Melinda’s inner thigh, intoxicated by her feminine scent, and felt a tingle dance up my tongue as I touched her wet clitoris with it and commingled some of her juices with my saliva. I opened my mouth wide, holding my tongue out for her as she pulled me inside. I kissed and licked with abandon, letting go, bathing her pussy with my warm breath and plunging my tongue between her labia folds, curling it, suckling, swallowing her juices as my eyes burned and my face became numb. I felt a detachment, a displacement within my body, an almost incomprehensible sensation of ecstasy coupled with dread. I burrowed my tongue deeper within her, opening my mouth wider to capture her nectar, more ardently stimulated her genitalia with my lips, tongue, and nose, desiring above all else to please her and comply with her wishes. I jettisoned my free will and acquiesced, a decision I was certain she sensed when she pushed me deep within her wet crevice, clamping her thighs tightly shut, reaching down to hold me close and hug me as she climaxed, her juices covering my face and trickling down my throat. 
 
 Something intangible entered me, I’m not certain what. It worked its way down my head and shoulders to my torso, then my pelvis, and finally to the tips of my very toes. I felt a onenes