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The first thing I noticed upon returning to my senses was the peculiar
sensation of lying supine in a strange location. I was still naked but on a
soft surface, much like a bed. The lighting was a bit dim, the
surroundings seemed feminine, and the linens were perfumed. My wrists were
locked into fur-lined shackles and confined above my head, with both ankles
being fastened to the bedposts at the other end in a similar fashion.
There was a good deal of laughing and revelry coming from an adjacent room,
all of which seemed to be female voices. It sounded like a party. I
strained to hear some of the things being said, but all of the chatter was
interspersed with giggling and wasn’t too lucid. After a short period of
time, a woman poked her head in the door and called out to the partygoers
after noticing my emerging consciousness.
“Gina!” the voice said. “He’s awake!” She abruptly closed the door and
began conversing with someone in the hall. I tried to shake the cobwebs
from my head as I seemed to hear the assemblage of voices move away. When I
had almost drifted to sleep again, the door opened and an attractive woman
came inside.
It was the woman who had prosecuted me in the courtroom. She had changed
from her business suit into blue jeans and a sweatshirt, but my body still
tensed in mortification at her presence. She smiled sweetly as she sat upon
the bed, and roughly grabbed and pulled my face towards her as I began to
glance away.
“You can look at me, Daniel,” she said, smiling infectiously stroking my
hair lightly. “In fact, I want you to look at me!”
“What happened? Where am -” I was still a bit groggy from whatever drug
they had used to sedate me in the courtroom.
“The jury retired after you deprived us of your conscious presence,” Gina
said, matter of factly. “You were subsequently convicted of first degree
rape. It took them about fifteen minutes to decide.”
“Well, why–why am I here? Where’s my own attorney? What-what’s going
on?” I strained against my bonds. “Why am I tied up like this?”
“You’re here because I wanted you here.” Gina licked her lips and trailed
her fingernail sensuouly down my neck. “I defeated you in public before
the world, and now it gives me enormous pleasure to defeat you in private.”
“What are you talking about?” I raised my head as much as the restraints
would allow. Gina smiled.
“Minutes after the unanimous verdict was read, the world’s various
governments ordered the full implementation of a global policy of male
management. That order is being carried out as I speak, with males
worldwide being separated from one another and segregated into small groups
for transport to labor camps at diverse locations.” I groaned and leaned
back as Gina’s light touch danced about my erect nipples.
“In fact, Daniel, you are now something of a pariah amongst the male
population.” She continued to rub me softly, with my own humiliation
heightened by my arousal. “Some of them speak of inflicting bodily injury
on you. Others talk openly of murder. They consider you weak and
worthless, a poor representative of your own gender.” Gina suddenly reached
down and cupped my scrotum, giggling audibly as she stared into my eyes.
“Which, of course, is what you are. That’s why we targeted you for
prosecution and for this demonstration.” Gina brought my thickening organ
to a fully erect state with some skillful stimulation, much as she had in
the courtroom. She continued to speak.
“We will, naturally, fully protect your safety and provide you with a
comfortable existence. You will never have to work in the camps with the
other males. In fact, you won’t be allowed to work at all. Which is why
you’ll probably never again see another male in person for as long as you
live. From time to time, we’ll take pictures of you apparently living a
life of luxury and leak those photographs to the males in the camps.” She
grinned from ear to ear as I squirmed in agony. “Keeping the males angry at
…End of the part5. To be continued..

Finally, I get into her cunt and wow! it’s everything I hoped for– all
juicy and slippery. I spread her legs as far apart as they’ll go and just look
at that beautiful pink pussy before I come down onto it with my mouth. I reach
out my tongue to lick around the soft lips and slide it in and out of her
private opening. I kiss her little clit and nip at it while she squirms and
wiggles her ass around under me. Then I really suck at her and I feel all Hell
break loose when my load comes off in her mouth and she heaves her ass up off
the ground and practically drowns me with her sweet juice.

Finally, after sucking and licking her up, I turn back and cuddle her in my
arms and we go to sleep with the sun drying the sweat on our bodies.

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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.

(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.
_____
/ ‘ /
,-/-, __ __. ____ /_
(_/ / (_(_/|_/ / <_/ <_

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..

It was then that the captain, for he couldn’t have been
anything else, came off the forecastle deck. Her breath stuck
in her throat. Pure male perfection in a uniform that left
nothing to the imagination. She gulped. He caught her gaze and
gave a sheepish grin.

“Hi there! You must be Mrs. Aubrey, the lone parent brave enough!”

She nodded in answer.

“Garish, isn’t it? And I’m Evan.” he flashed a winsome smile.

“I don’t know. I imagine you get hit on a lot because of it,”
she replied, shaking his hand. “Please call me Ann. ‘Mrs.
Aubrey’ makes me sound like my mother-in-law.”

Her own buccaneers were chasing each other around the deck
soaking everything in their path with the Supersoaker 3000’s
they carried. She couldn’t follow what it was they were playing,
but there were plenty of kids getting soaked.

“Seems like a nice set-up,” she said changing the subject.

“It is, during the tourist season, and during the Conch
Republic Independence celebrations.” He replied, leaning against
the ships’ rail. “Let me guess, the husband is fishing.”

She blushed. “You must see us fisherman’s widows a lot.”

He grinned. “Why do you think we have the costumes? Drums up
business.” He chuckled. She would’ve nudged him but stopped
herself; she didn’t know him well enough to be that familiar.
She settled for replying, “That’s terrible!” but grinning with
him through it. She looked out over the deck as the boys chased
each other with their water guns.

She heard the blast of water before she felt it. Her nipples
reacted quickly to the cold water, pushing out against the wet
cloth, as though they hoped to escape into the warmer air. The
cloth itself became nearly transparent so that even her areolas
were visible.

“BOYS!” She yelled. Embarrassed, she crossed her arms in front
of her chest, berating the boys for not being more careful. She
blushed dreadfully; she was talking with one of the sexiest men
she’d seen in a while, and here she was acting like a gauche
schoolgirl.

“Shit.” She muttered under her breath, loud enough for him to
hear.

“Hey, this happens all the time. Come with me to the Captain’s
quarters. We have some extra uniforms there.” He waggled his
eyebrows. She gave it serious consideration. She knew he was
flirting with her, but then, he himself had mentioned the myriad
fisherman’s widows they had. It could be just as much an act as
the rest. But hell, she was giving everyone a show now…she
needed to get something over her. She followed him across the
deck, circumspectly sighing over the perfection of his ass.

He led her beneath the forecastle deck into a shadowy room. It
was furnished just as you would expect a pirate captain’s
quarters to be furnished; a large wooden desk, old maps, swords
and muskets hung on the walls. When she looked about, he noticed
and explained.

“Sometimes we have to hold our festivities below decks, like
when we hit a rain shower; so we use this room. She nodded as he
pulled an extra poet’s shirt out of a chest then continued to
…End of the part2. To be continued..

_She was gone._

He shook his head — all their years together — a tear slowly wended its way down his
cheek, as he began to pack her things.

The blue dress she wore to their daughter Denise’s wedding. He remembered how happy
she was, how she felt in his arms as they danced around the room. The material was soft,
clingy, sensual; like her. It floated around them, reminding him of their own wedding
day, when her veil floated around them as he swept her in his arms. He sighed softly,
inhaling her lingering scent.

Maybe this was a bad idea. It was too soon, too raw a wound to clean out now. He
didn’t want to lose what he had left of her. He closed the half filled box and headed out
the door.

He found himself walking. Not quite aimlessly, but meandering nonetheless. He ended
up in the city park, a grand old place. He walked the avenue of ancient oaks that soared
above him in an arch. The squirrels tittered at his feet, playing some sort of squirrel
soccer with a nut. He smiled slightly, remembering how she would always throw them
the saltines she invariably kept in her oversized purse.

They met in this park, near the large central fountain. It was right after the war. He had
come home, feeling lucky but feeling so very tired. She made him want to celebrate, to
_Live_. Her dark sparkling eyes, always so full of fun. She used to chase him around the
fountain until he reversed gears and would catch her. She would rock in his arms,
slightly out of breath, her breasts against his chest, as she tiptoed up to sneak a kiss.

It was as he was wandering that he bumped into her; Sandy, Denise’s best friend.

“Mr. Allard, I’m so sorry. I heard. It was so sudden. She was too young. I’ll miss her”
She said empathetically, her hand on his arm. He was unsure whether it helped or made
him angry.

“Thank you,” he said forcing a slight smile. “It was quick; she didn’t suffer much.” _Kid,
what did she know?_ She fell into step with him.

“This place,” he shook his head, “it was so special. Did you know, Laura and I met here?
I proposed to her, at the fountain.” He chuckled slightly. “I was never so scared. I shook
so bad, I actually dropped the ring in the fountain.” Sandy smiled at him. “I could see
you doing that. I bet Mrs. Allard just laughed.”

He nodded, smiling in memory, “We both jumped in, running our hands around looking
for it. She was so wet….” His voice trailed off, realizing to whom he was speaking.

Sandy reached out for his hand, squeezing it. “It’s okay. It’s important to remember her
that way. I’m not exactly the little kid you remember,” she pointed out softly.

And to his chagrin he noticed her obvious warmth and personality. A body young enough
to remember its soft curves but old enough to understand them. _She had to be what?_ He
thought to himself idly, _29? Yes, must be since Denise was._ With dusk quickly
approaching, it had begun to rain softly and he observed her nipples harden as the cold
water soaked her thin peasant blouse before shaking himself out of his reverie.

Sandy smiled at him, softly, empathetically. She took the hand she held in hers, and
placed it over her breast. “It’s okay.” She murmured softly. His fingers trembled, first to
pull back, then to rest over her breast. _So soft._ He shivered in memory, remembering
when Laura had given him her virginity. A very private moment, one he didn’t list when
he explained why the park was so special. Laura felt so soft under his hands, his fingers
pleading as his mouth couldn’t do. And she gave, God, did she give.

They ran through the rain, ran into the hemlock stand. The thick branches gave them
cover from peering eyes and the falling rain. He leaned low and kissed her softly, putting
all his boiling emotion into it. His hand caressed her face, memorizing each detail, the
soft slope of her jaw, the curve of her neck.

She leaned into the kiss, pressing her firm breasts into him, her arms wrapped around his
neck, open and giving. She showed him with her body, reminded him he was alive. Her
leg went up to link into his. Their lips parted, their noses touching when suddenly they
lost their balance and she landed on top of him. They laughed out loud, and she rubbed
his bottom, making the minor pain glow into something more substantial. They rolled in
the soft loamy dirt and dried needles that made their temporary bed as satiny as expensive
sheets. They smelled the damp spring rain, as their heavy breaths curled over their heads.

He pressed into her, kissing her, but suddenly shy. _What next? Should I? Can I?_ So
tender of her, even now adoring her. Her hands told him though, pressing his shoulders so
his lips were within reach of her chest. His lips covered a chilled nipple through her thin
shirt, warming it with his tongue. Emboldened by her shifting sighs, he laved the
opposite one with the same attention. Her body writhed beneath his, her hips pressing up
to meet his.

“Please.”

It was only a whisper. He heard it though, rejoiced in it. She would be his. He continued
to trail down her soft stomach. Her skirt was bunched up, and he could see her exposed
thighs. He gently knelt between her legs, kissing the inside of her thighs. Her hands
reached for his hair, pulling him closer. He nuzzled at her core, feeling the dampness on
her panties that had nothing to do with the rain. Her hands reached down to help him,
peeling them downward, down with her stockings. He sighed at the sight of her. The
scent of aroused woman, spring rain and hemlock would always make him remember.

He flicked his tongue on the outer ridges, enjoying her moans and squirms. He breathed
in her scent before nuzzling her core. Her body silently shuddered in response, and he felt
her lips spasm quickly. So silent, so different from the girls he’d met in Europe. They
had to announce to the world. Her orgasm was silent, just for him. His tongue fluttered
over her clitoris, lengthening her joy, until she whimpered low and he felt her pull upon
him, pulling him down.

He knelt up, trembling, wanting everything to be right for her. He pressed his head
against her opening, rubbing it softly against her wetness, before pressing slowly into her.

His body was shaking with the amount of concentration to retain his control. Slowly he
pressed into her warmth. Never had it felt like this. So warm, so tight. He pressed in
fully, before sliding back out just as slowly. Her moan of desire stirred him, and he
pressed back in. Slowly he built up the tempo, until he got lost in her, lost all control.
And then with her soft sighs, he too had his release.

As he came down, he opened his eyes. Sandy was beneath him, smiling softly. He was
stunned, even a bit embarrassed. It seemed so real, but it wasn’t Laura. _Laura…my
Laura…She’s gone. _

He collapsed onto her waiting, soft body, and wept, Sandy’s arms wrapped around him.
**************************

To be followed shortly by a mirror story, “Return” from Sandy’s point of view.

Copyright Dryad 2002 (gbbjg@yahoo.com) http://www.asstr.org/~Dryad

The eighteen-year-old blond single mother to be was the next to be seen. Brenda had been seeing him once every few weeks ever since her third month. Doctor Joseph Robert’s, who was a handsome man in his mid thirties and had a gentle touch. She recalled her previous visits as her panties dampened. She crossed her legs tightly to curb the feelings stirring within her.

“When will he be finished?” she thought to herself.

After what seemed like an eternity, the thirty three year old doctor finally walked out of his exam room with an attractive young Hispanic woman who was also in her eighth month. The woman appeared breathless and wide-eyed. Doctor Robert’s motioned for Brenda and escorted her into his exam room. He promptly closed and locked the door behind them.
.
“You know the woman that just left?” Doctor Roberts asked.

Brenda nodded her head wondering if the doctor was referring to how flushed the woman’s face was.

“This is her third child with me. She likes it when I relax her before the exam.” He told Brenda as she began undressing for the exam.

Brenda slipped off her blouse and folded it on the chair next to the exam table. Smiling at the doctor, she unclasped her maternity bra, allowing her milk filled breasts with their darker then normal nipples to fall free. She unzipped her skirt and placed it on top of her blouse. Then her thumbs tugged at the waistband of her panties and slipped them down and off her legs.

“So, how do you relax them” Brenda coyly asked.

“Oh, most with a calm voice, other’s a gentle touch. Some get fingered. A few like her need to be opened up with something long and warm.” He smiled.

“Wow. I like that idea doctor. I’ve been waiting to see you so much for the past couple of weeks.” Brenda complained as she lay on the exam table.

“This is normal when you are pregnant. During this time the increased hormones heighten the desire within your body, especially around the nipples and vagina. It’s common for a woman to masturbate three or four times a day during her pregnancy.”

“Doctor how safe is intercourse during pregnancy?” Brenda cautiously asked.

“That depends on the woman. Some need to stop intercourse after the first trimester while others can have intercourse well into the last. In some cases intercourse is strongly encouraged when a pregnancy is late.” Doctor Robbers looked down at Brenda’s chart.

“You have no anomalies Brenda. So there is nothing preventing you from having intercourse in the last trimester.

Brenda beamed as she watched the doctor warm his stethoscope in the palm of his hand. He then slipped it against her chest, listening intently to her heart. Brenda instinctively breathed in and out. This caused her breasts to balloon up and down with each breath. The doctor listened for any abnormalities as he moved the stethoscope around.

“Ok everything seems normal there.” He added, placing the stethoscope on the table beside him.

“Have you been rubbing yourself with baby oil everyday Brenda? This prevents stretch marks and keeps your skin nice a smooth.” He asked as he picked up bottle of baby oil from the table.

“Yes doctor.” Brenda lay there quietly while Doctor Robert’s squirted generous amounts of oil into her belly button, and then with a gentle touch began rubbing it all over her paunch belly.

“ How’s that?” He asked softly.

“It actually feels very nice, you have soft hands.”

“Have you been vigorously massaging your nipples like I showed you? This is so you can nurse without pain when your baby comes.” The doctor asked as his fingers twisted and pulled on the erect nipples.

“Yes doctor I have.” Brenda answered with a grin.

“Better your fingers toughen up your nipples then your baby’s hungry mouth Brenda.”

“Hhhhhmmmmm” Brenda moaned as the nipple discharged milk droplets from his manipulations. The doctor then cupped her breast fully in his hand and squeezed it from underneath. This caused a stream of milk to squirt from her breast staining the doctor’s white exam coat.

“Ohhhhh! Doctor! Please suck on them now. You have to. I need it so badly,” Brenda cooed as she offered the doctor her leaking nipple.

“Hmm…Ohhhh” Brenda felt the doctor’s tongue swirling around her leaking nipple. He was rewarded with a warm jet stream of sweet breast milk. He suckled her for some time until finally draining her left breast.

“Ohhhhh Christ yessss suck like that. That feels so good.” Brenda began caressing
the doctor’s thick black hair.

“Ohhhhhh yess. Don’t stop!” she begged as the doctor switched and suckled on her right nipple harder than the first.
“Ohhhh, doctor keep sucking.” Brenda moaned, “You do that so well.”
The doctor returned to his clinical manner. “ Did you start your pudendal massages to help stretch and open you up for the big day?”

“I don’t think I can do them as good as you.” Brenda pouted.

“Pudendal massages make your labor and delivery so much easier Brenda.” Doctor Robert’s answered as he placed Brenda’s legs in the stirrups.

He then sat down on the stool at the end of the exam table. He caressed Brenda’s big belly and said in a soothing voice,” I’m going to do the internal massages now, Brenda. Take a few deep breathes and relax.”

He casually began a preliminary pudendal massage. His fingers circled Brenda’s labia and when they relaxed, he penetrated her. He began a slow thorough massage touching of every square millimeter inside her passage. Brenda was experiencing the heightened sexual awareness the doctor predicted. Her mouth was salivating.

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, goddddddddddd,” Brenda gasped while Doctor Robert’s jammed his fingers in and out with brutal precision

“Oh don’t stop!!! Just do that! Oh yessssssss, finger me hard! Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh.” Dr Robert’s made certain that his fingers rubbed hard over her clit.

“Ohhhhhh, yesssss! Do my clit! Ohhhh my! That feels so good! Do that harder!’

It only took a matter of minutes before another climax gripped the doctor’s fingers.

“Oohhhhh…Ahhhhhhh.Ohhhh Myyyy… goddddddd!!!” Brenda moaned loudly, “It’s been so long! Doctor, please, please! Pull your cock out and fuck me!’

Doctor Robert’s wasted no time. He dropped his pants and pulled out his already hard 9-inch penis. He quickly slipped it all the way inside her.

“Mmmmmmm yesssss fuck me doctor!” Brenda moaned as she bucked her hips in and out against the doctor’s thrusting. Doctor Roberts’s fingers returned to fondling her breasts.

“Doctor, are you sure this won’t hurt the baby?” Brenda asked.

“Ohhhhhhhhhhh No Brenda.” The doctor panted,”Ohhhhh.On the contrary. This is good for the baby. It feels what you do.”
“Then please give it to me harder doctor!” Brenda begged.

Doctor Robert’s took her request and grabbed Brenda’s hips for leverage and started thrusting faster.

“I’m cumming again doctor!! Ohhhhhhh!! Ohhhhh!! Ohhh!!! Ahhhh!!”

Brenda felt a jolt of orgasmic energy course through her body. Her vagina contracted tightly around her unborn and the doctor’s thrusting penis.

“AhhhhhhhhhOhhhhhh Jesus doctor please don’t stop!!”

Doctor Roberts dislodged Brenda’s ankles from the stirrups and helped her get off the table.“Turn over Brenda. This will be more comfortable for both you and the baby.”

Brenda bent over the table as Doctor Roberts approached her from the rear. His hands firmly squeezed her sensitive breasts as he rubbed his thick penis up and down her dripping vagina.

“Please put it back in Doctor. Ohhh!!” Brenda pleaded.“Ohhh.ohhhh.ohhhh.ohhh.ohhhh!” Brenda chanted in time with each thrust into her moist slit. The doctor slowed his strokes; he did not wish to climax to soon.

“Ohmmmmph” Brenda moaned as Doctor Robert’s pumped his penis deeply into her pregnant womb.

After several long strokes Doctor Robert’s felt his balls contract.

“Ohhhhh. Ahhhh! “Doctor Robert’s groaned as he continued pumping harder and harder into Brenda. “I’m cumminng Brenda. I’m going to baptize the baby!”

“Ohhhhhhhhhhh…Yesss doctor please baptize the babbbyyyyyyyy. Ahhhhhh!” The doctor’s balls spurted his warm semen deeply into her. They remained locked together until Doctor Roberts kissed her then slowly withdrew. That day Brenda had experienced about three or four of the most incredibly satisfying orgasms in her life. The doctor was right again.

After they both got dressed the doctor escorted Brenda to the lounge.

“Don’t forget that you have an appointment for the first of next month,” He winked.

“Thank you so much doctor.” Brenda smiled.

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..

She was a Dutch girl from Utrecht, and she took her job pretty seriously. But every now and then she clicked over to a Dutch women’s forum to read up on other women and their bumps. Most of the topics were standard – about hormones and the nesting instinct – but one caught her eye.

‘Does your pregnancy make you insatiable?’it read in Dutch. She went on to explore the list and read the testimonies of many different Dutch women who found themselves not only with morning sickness in the first trimester, but craving physical attention from their husbands.

Though she would blush to admit it to anyone in the office, these women were right. She had never felt (or it seemed looked) as sexy as she did when she was pregnant.

Her ash brown hair looked alive. The early wrinkles under her eyes seemed to heal up.

It must be a girl she thought – for all of these female hormones to be exploding all over her body.

‘Oh my God – it’s so sexy’ she thought. She thought of her husband Max fucking her the way he did. He was a really good lay – and he had a nice sized dick. Just the thoughts of sizing up her husbands elephant trunk exciting her and she thought she really just had to go pee to cool herself off, and let some of that hot piss satisfy her for now.

She got up from the desk and started to walk towards the door when Robert came in.

Robert was about 7 years younger than she was, she reckoned, and he was the cutest boy at work – the one that was a little shy, but with a sweet side. The one, who if stuck on a desert island with, she would have no problem using to continue the human species.

‘Good morning, Robert,’she said in her soft Germanic accent. ‘Good morning, Greta’he replied. There was something so comforting in his body – she thought. Whenever she had to get close to him in the office it was as if every muscle relaxed. Sex signals, she thought. Radar. She was no twit. Buts she had a date to go the restroom and to ease her itch.

In the restroom she guided herself towards the last stall and sat down. There was a newspaper on the floor and she began to read on about those funny Americans Jessica Simpson and Angelina Jolie – as her naked finger snaked its way up and down her ravine.

She looked down and she liked what she saw. She loved her vagina – and she loved it more now that she was pregnant. She loved tracing a signature over her pink lips and relished pushing her clit ever so slightly. She began to work her slender fingers and developed a sort of groove or rhythm as she read on about the news. She knew she really shouldn’t get off in the ladies toilet, but her finger kept its rhythm and so she began to squeeze her leg muscles and rub her flesh.

She began to think about Max and his big muscle and how it filled her box up. She really enjoyed the late night fuckings they had had. But she knew that not just Max could get her off in a quick way so she would have to go a little dirty. As she toyed with her wet flesh she began to envision another man – a bit silent, a bit dark, but handsome and warm – with a long body, and a long penis.

As he guided her to the bed in her fantasy she opened herself to him and let him have his way with her. She enthusiastically sucked him and let him have her ass and her face and finally her pussy – yes her pussy, where he would shoot his thick hot load. Mmm. The pleasure.

She continued to itch at herself – building a rhythm and embracing the strong man of her fantasy who took her ass, who took her everything, who used her like a rubber and threw her away.

Christ he was big. He stretched her with that big cock… GASP. When you withhold a loud orgasm the one that comes is a bit different and Greta essentially felt her body implode. It was like that idea of seeing stars. She felt a bit delirious and her body began to chill and convulse. Cold sweat built up on the back of her neck. She was light headed but then reclaimed her sense of place

‘Ah,’ She thought. ‘Now that is what English-speakers call ‘the big O.”

After she had calmed her pink pussy lips in the ladies, Greta returned to clarity. She remembered that Max was having a show that Thursday night in a comedy production in North Beach.

She had promised him to get as many of her coworkers to come, and so she dutifully announced to her coworkers when she got back from the ladies that they should all come and spend $5 to see Max and his colleagues perform at the church.

‘I’m going, Robert’ said matter of factly. ‘My girlfriend’s sister is in that show.’

Robert looked cute, Greta thought in a relaxed way. Maybe he was her mystery date in the ladies. ‘Oh,’ Greta smiled from behind her work station. ‘See you there.’

BARE AS A BODKIN

City Thursdays in Spring sometimes were wet and moist, sometimes were cold and windy, but on special occasions were humid and warm a prelude to summer.

Bars filled up after work, and all the good looking city people got together to drink beer, shoot pool, and engage in ancient courting rituals.

While Katrina and Robert needed neither spirits nor atmosphere to get their grooves on, they decided to have a few beers before catching her sister Lila in the show at St. Agnes.

The performance was called “Bare as a Bodkin” and it was some sort of raunchy take on Shakespeare. As they walked to the theater the two began to hold hands.

‘You know some people from work might be here tonight,’ Robert said trying to make small talk.

‘Oh yeah, who?’ asked Katrina. ‘Well, I know that Greta’s husband Max is performing, so I guess we’ll see Greta.’

‘Oh’ said Katrina. ‘That’s cool.’

Robert could tell that Katrina was a bit jealous. The truth was she knew that he probably liked her – she knew her boyfriend’s postures, his language, the way he said a woman’s name. Sensing his girlfriend’s apprehension he decided to proclaim her lack of accessibility to him.

‘Yeah, she’s expecting,’ he said.

‘Oh yeah?’ Katrina said, returning from her analytical detachment. ‘How far a long is she?’

‘Three months, ‘Robert answered.

When they got to St. Agnes they saw that it was going to be a big show. The line was out the church’s basement door and all sorts of hipster kids were outside smoking and joking.

Katrina and Robert waited in line, and slowly worked their way to the table where two young women, dressed as nymphs out of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, took their $10 and stamped their hands. They then proceeded into the main chamber, which was entirely black and surrounded by bleachers. Katrina and Robert worked their way up to the top of one side and got a good seat.

Robert strained to recognize any of the guys from work, but couldn’t see anybody. Then out of the corner of his eye he spied her shape across the stage and at the front row. She was dressed in a dark velvety dress and had on black heels. She looked SEXY.

The bleachers began to fill up until the whole room was heavy with breathing and anticipation – when one of the nymphs came on stage and launched into a very risque sonnet. The audience laughed, but Robert was preoccupied with the mass across from him. He thought about her bump and he felt a noticeable twang in his penis.

There were several men on stage, but Robert couldn’t tell which one was Max. He assumed he was the bigger guy – but who knew. All he knew is that he just wanted to keep sneaking glances at his coworker Greta, and he did until she got up about half an hour into the show – just about the same time he felt a pressure on his bladder from the beer he had had earlier.

He asked one of the non-acting nymphs to point him towards the restrooms and she instructed him to go through a series of doors towards the back of the church, behind the kitchen. He almost got lost, but finally wound his way through the maze to the men’s restroom where he let go of his huge burden. He cleaned himself off and buttoned up and turned around to leave, all the time thinking of Greta and her legs and her bump, and her smile. He ‘must have a crush’he thought, hoping that if he classified his emotions they would go away.

But then he saw her coming the opposite direction. In her gorgeous medieval outfit. Their eyes met and he felt like he had been shot with 120 volts of energy.

‘Hi Greta.’

‘Oh – it’s so good you came,’ she said. She seemed cheerful and less industrious than her normal workself. They exchanged a bit of awkward body language but then Robert blurted out ‘You look really nice tonight.’

‘Thank you, so do you’ she said. This was terrible he thought. He had to do something. He had to say something, and the alcohol in his system just let his true thoughts slip out without warning.

‘I think you look really nice – especially because you are pregnant,’ he said.

‘Oh you are not the only one who has noticed,’ Greta replied with a grin. ‘I have noticed too. I think I am having a girl because of all this estrogen in my body. ‘She reached down and touched her bump and moved closer to him.

‘Here, feel,’ she said. ‘Feel my bump.’ She pulled her nervous hand closer and put it on her belly.

The bump felt somewhere between soft and hard. He was nervous to touch it too heavily, but felt calmed by the bump. She looked up at him, a kind of deep glare in her eyes and breathed heavily. ‘You know Robert,’ she said with a hysterical tinge to her voice.

‘I really want to kiss you. Will you kiss me?’

he leaned forward and kissed her forehead and then her nose, and then…my God…her mouth. ‘I just feel so sexy since I have been pregnant,’ Greta said sensitively, wrapping her arms around his tree trunk of a waist. ‘I just feel so aroused all the time.’

They began to kiss and Robert felt like a 14 year old in the middle of his first time. The air seemed so cold and he felt afraid because he was kissing another man’s wife, and afraid because she was pregnant, but overwhelmed by whatever pheromones escaped from her body and deeply in love with her scent, a scent he had breathed so deeply.

‘Please come with me’ she said, leading him down a hall way through a door to a dark room. She flicked on a switch and there hung many robes worn by priests and lay people.

‘Here’ she said, ‘help me take this thing off.’ Robert helped her lift the skirt off her trim body revealing nothing underneath but her angelic form – her tiny, yet swollen breasts, like a 15 year-old’s, so soft they would fit perfect in his hand. And of course her tummy, which started at the base of her rib cage, and protruded out in a natural arc just like he had thought of – perfect, hot and growing.

‘Can I?,’Robert hesitated. ‘Can I kiss it?’ She planted hot kisses on his cheeks and guided his face down to her bump. He kneeled before her and began to plant little daisies of kisses along the lining of her skin, hiding them in her pelvic valleys, and stopping to feel her curly black pubic hair tickle his chin.

She looked so gorgeous in the cloakroom light and he felt a bit overwhelmed down on his knees. But he stood up and she began to unbutton his shirt and pants. They soon were both completely hot and naked and she decided to take advantage of the situation.

‘Robert – I want you to fuck me’she said. ‘I want you in every orifice of me’she said as she guided his cock towards her thigh. She then slowly kneeled down and began to plant kisses along his rod, looking up to savor the feeling of another man’s big dick in her palm. Robert, as she expected, was quite long and thick and engorged by the sight of her angelic body. She felt so hot as she let his big thickness come into her mouth. She toyed with his p-spot as he grabbed masses of her hair and stood at attention and continued to bob her head up and down on his big dick. He mumbled and a certain giddiness began to spur in his testes as the night air hit his shaft as she savored him. He thought about where he would fuck her, in her throat, in her puckered little ass, that tight little ass, and finally deep in her mystic oven, where the next generation was brewing.

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