Glencross Manor - Ruth's Story

"Yes, er, thanks," I replied as Mrs. McEill got up and left the room.

I now found myself in a uniquely odd position - one of these men, whose profiles I was now flipping through as though I was shopping from a catalogue, would hopefully become the father of my child. There were, as Mrs. McEill had mentioned, dozens of them to choose from. There were blond haired, blue eyed men, brown haired men with blue eyes, redheads with green eyes - every conceivable variation seemed to be there. Sure enough, after a while I came across

Karl's and Jason's profiles. I felt as though I was being faced with the most difficult choice anyone had ever faced. The truth was that they were all good looking men, and I was sure that any one of them would be a wonderful father for my child. That was of course, until I finally saw him.

He had the most soulful brown eyes I'd yet come across, and he had soft light brown hair that positively shone with vitality. He had a kindly face with a smile that could melt any woman's heart, and I genuinely felt my heart skip not one, but several beats. He was, in short, my personal vision of masculine perfection.

I decided then and there that he was the one.

"This one," I announced as Mrs. McEill returned. "He is definitely the one!"

"Ah, Richard Selworth - a very popular choice!" Mrs. McEill beamed as she took a look at the screen. "I can vouch for the fact that he comes very highly recommended! So, I shall introduce him to you tomorrow and you can spend some time getting to know him. I have arranged an appointment for your screening tests at three o'clock this afternoon. In the meantime, I suggest you head over to our cafeteria for some lunch."

I eagerly took her up on her suggestion - I was starving, having not eaten since earlier that morning on the train. I guess my excitement at the prospect of meeting the man I hoped would father a child for me added to my hunger.

Jason reappeared and accompanied me to the cafeteria, and together we sat and had lunch together. He opted for a light rocket salad with mustard vinaigrette, while I selected the hearty scotch broth and crusty bread for myself.

"Mrs. McEill informed me you have already made your choice," he said as he speared a few leaves with his fork.

"As soon as I saw him I just knew he was the one!" I replied as I tore off a pice of bread and dunked it in my soup.

"Yeah, Richard has that effect on women!" Jason chuckled. "Still, I can't complain myself - I get more than my fair share of clients."

"How often do you have a client?" I asked him out of genuine curiosity.

"Well, it varies of course," he replied. "But I'd say on average about two clients a month. The actual making babies part actually takes up the least amount of our time here. Most of the time we're doing whatever other jobs need doing to help keep the place running smoothly. We have plenty of free time as well - most of which is spent working out or playing sports to keep us all nice and fit and healthy."

"So this Richard guy that I've selected, do you know him?" I enquired.

"Know him? He's like my best mate here!" Jason chortled. "Believe me, you couldn't have chosen a better man to have as the father of your child!"

Well, I guess I'll find out for myself tomorrow, I thought as I tucked in to my bowl of hearty broth.

After lunch I returned to my room, as there was still over an hour until my appointment for the screening tests. I was under no illusions that they wouldn't particularly be fun, but I was so excited to be finally doing something positive that would help me fulfil my dream of being a mother that I was prepared to go through pretty much anything. I wanted to be as fresh and clean for whoever would be carrying out the tests, so I took a long shower, making sure not to miss a spot. I was so fastidious that after I rinsed off, I went through the whole process a second time, just to be extra doubly sure I was as clean as a whistle!

As I was drying my hair, Jason knocked on my door.

"Just a minute!" I called back as I finished up with the hairdryer and brushed my hair.

I opened the door to find him standing in the corridor with what appeared to be some kind of dressing gown and one of those disposable hospital gowns draped over his arm. He also held what looked like a pair of some kind of disposable sandals - a little like something one would wear on a beach, only less colourful.

"The gynaecologist is ready for your screening appointment, Ms. Vyne," he announced. "You are requested to strip to your underwear and then put these on."

He handed me the sandals and the flimsy looking garments.

"I'll wait out here until you're ready," Jason added. "And then I'll take you down."

"Yes, er, thank you, Jason," I said as I took them from him.

I guess I should have expected to have to wear something like this - I hated these things! Still, I kept my mind focused on why I was doing all this, so I dutifully stripped off down to just my underwear and then slipped on the gowns. I rejoined Jason, who then guided me to the appropriate room in the medical block. It felt odd being outside in such minimally institutional attire, and I even felt a little cold even though I'd worn much less on the beach at the height of summer, and it wasn't a cold day by any stretch of the imagination. Maybe it was the thought of what I was about to go through that made me feel a little cold - I never did like visiting medical places and going to the doctors - least of all the gynaecologist. I guess it was a bit ironic really, given that my best friend was a doctor.

At least I wasn't outside for long - the medical block was only a few yards from the women's accommodation building, and before I knew it I was being ushered into a room with 'Dr. L Mendez MRCOG' engraved on a little brass plaque on the door.

"Ms. Vyne to see you, Dr. Mendez," Jason announced as he showed me in.

"Thank you, Jason," the gynaecologist replied warmly.

Jason then left the room and closed the door on his way out.

"Hi, Ms. Vyne - I'm Laura Mendez, I'll be carrying out your screening tests today, and also performing a full pelvic exam."

"Er yes," I replied a little uneasily. "Oh, call me Ruth, by the way."

"I take it you've had a pelvic exam before?" Dr. Mendez said as she invited me to take a seat.

"Once," I answered. "I didn't particularly enjoy it."

"Well, it's not meant to be enjoyable, of course," the gynaecologist said. "But it's a necessary evil I'm afraid. What about smear tests? Are you up to date with those?"

"Every three years," I replied. "They're not much fun either - if only men had to put up with having things shoved inside them!" I added with a snort.

"If only indeed," Dr. Mendez said. "But not for the reason you think. Anyway, let us get on with the job at hand, shall we? First off, I shall collect a blood sample from you, and then I'll ask you to provide a urine sample. After that I shall be taking a couple of genital swabs before moving on to the pelvic exam."

The blood test was fairly routine, having had one several times before it was nothing new to me, and I was then handed a little plastic pot in order to provide the requested urine sample. Whoever invented those things definitely hadn't taken female anatomy into consideration, I thought to myself as I tried to hold it in place whilst I hovered over the toilet seat in a small cubicle next to the gynaecologists consulting room. With much care I managed to fill the sample pot without it overflowing, and I screwed the cap on, ready to hand to Dr. Mendez.

"Okay, time to take some swabs from you," the gynaecologist announced as I handed her my urine sample. "I'm sure you know the drill by now - knickers off, hop up onto the chair, feet in stirrups, bottom forward!"

I always hated being made to adopt such an undignified position, but I reasoned that if I wanted to have a baby it was something I'd have to get used to. Dr. Mendez slipped on a pair of sterile gloves and a couple of swabs contained inside sterile plastic tubes. She wheeled her chair in front of me and unscrewed one of the tubes.

"Okay, Ruth, you comfortable?" she asked me.

"Not really!" I confessed.

"Well, I'll be as quick as I can," Dr. Mendez replied. "The swabs literally take a few seconds each, and as soon as I've done those I'll perform the pelvic exam which should only take a minute or two."

And with that, the gynaecologist set about her task. Situations like this never got any easier, despite the amount of times I'd been on one of these examination chairs with my legs in the air whilst a medical professional probes around my most intimate areas. I always tend to follow my dear old mother's advice in such moments: "just lie back and think of England" she always used to say. Or rather "lie back and think of Scotland" on this occasion.

Once she'd done the swabs - one in my vagina, and a second in my urethra - Dr. Mendez removed her gloves, tossed them in a small yellow bin, and then slipped on a fresh pair. I took in a deep breath and steeled myself for what I knew was coming as she smeared a generous squirt of lubricant onto her right hand. Fortunately, Dr. Mendez's hands were smaller than the male Harley Street gynaecologist who had last performed this particular examination one me, and wasn't really any worse than having a speculum inside me, and before I knew it, Dr. Mendez was pulling her gloves off and tossing them into the bin along with the first pair.

"All done!" she announced brightly. "You can hop down and pop your underwear back on now."

"Er, how does it look in there?" I asked her as I dismounted the chair.

"All ship shape and Bristol fashion, as they say," she replied with a broad smile. "No sinister lurking nasties - I'm quite happy to give you a clean bill of health, providing the swab results come back okay."

"Well, that's a relief!" I said as I bent down to pick up my underwear and slip them on.

"You'll be relieved to hear that the rest of this appointment is of a considerably less intimate nature!" Dr. Mendez grinned. "Just the usual measurements: height and weight so that I can calculate your body mass, and from that I can work out the dosage for the supplements that you will need to take for the next couple of months."

"I'm glad that's over!" I said to Jason ten minutes later, as he waited outside to take me back to my room.

"At least you only have to go through that once," Jason remarked. "It's once a month for us men here, except of course it's the andrologist for us instead."

"Andrologist?" I queried, having never heard the word before.

"The male equivalent of a gynaecologist," Jason clarified.

"I never knew there was such a thing," I replied. "I thought men go to a urologist when they have trouble down there."

"Oh, we have one of those here too," Jason said as he held the door open for me. "But the Andrologist's expertise focuses entirely on the reproductive system for us guys, whilst the urologist is really here for female clients more than anything else."

"Ah, of course, well I guess that makes sense," I answered, a little more enlightened.

Andrologist, I thought to myself, I guess it ought to have been obvious really. I resolved to ask my doctor friend if she knew about such a specialism next time I saw her.

I spent most of the rest of the afternoon in my room, just watching TV and generally relaxing after a long day. I returned to the cafeteria for dinner and enjoyed a hearty and very well presented meal, before returning to my room for a long soak in the bath and finally retiring to bed. The next day I would be meeting the man I'd chosen to father my child, and it would prove to be a rather eye-opening experience.

* * * * * *

I awoke the next morning having spent a restless night - not because I was worried or nervous about anything, but because I was excited about meeting Richard, the man I had chosen to father my child. I couldn't have asked to have woken up in a more beautiful place, however. As I drew open the curtains I was greeted by a view out over the formal gardens, with the pine forests scaling up the hillsides beyond.

It wasn't yet eight o'clock and already there were a few men outside tending to the garden. Elsewhere a group of people, mainly men but with a few women too, were doing some warmup stretches, presumably getting ready to take a morning run around the estate. I stepped into my bathroom to take a quick shower - I didn't need to undress as I had slept naked, as I was normally in the habit of doing.

As I stepped out of the bathroom a few minutes later, I noticed a slip of paper had been pushed under my door.

Good morning, Ms. Vyne - Mrs. McEill would like you to meet her in the library at 11 o'clock to meet your chosen donor. Regards, Jason.

My heart skipped a beat - it was really happening!

Never before had three hours felt like so long - every time I checked my watch in the intervening time between having breakfast in the cafeteria and the appointed hour for my meeting with Mrs. McEill and my chosen donor, it seemed as though not a single second had elapsed. To fill the time I decided to go for a walk around the gardens and out into the landscape beyond to the shore of the loch. As I passed through the gardens, the same men I had seen earlier nodded a polite good morning to me, which I reciprocated in kind. They had obviously been working hard, for already they had taken their shirts off and were now bare chested. Judging from their physique, they clearly looked after themselves.

The loch was only a ten minute walk away, amid lofty pine trees that made the place feel more Scandinavian than Scottish, but it was a beautifully tranquil place to be in, infused by the scent of pine and with the sound of the occasional woodpecker in the background. As I stood on the shore of the loch I was utterly dumbstruck by the sheer beauty of the place. Around halfway along the loch, a small boathouse stood, looking like a miniature version of the main house. At the far end of the loch, rising majestically over the surrounding landscape, the ominous beauty of Ben Nevis dominated the view. The highest mountain in the whole of the British isles may be modest in terms of altitude compared to the mountains of mainland Europe, but it was certainly up there with the best of them as far as its natural beauty was concerned.

Eventually, finally, my watch ticked over to eleven o'clock, and as I waited nervously outside the door to the library in the main house, I was almost trembling with excitement.

"Ah, Ms. Vyne, I see you got the note I asked Jason to send," Mrs. McEill smiled as she greeted me. "Come on inside, your donor awaits!"

I took a moment to compose myself before entering. The library itself was pretty much as I'd imagined it, that is to say a room filled with bookshelves containing hundreds of leather bound tomes. The room held a distinctly masculine air, dominated as it was by solid oak crenellated bookcases and large armchairs for reading. Of course, the masculine air of the room was enhanced further by the presence of the man stood in the middle of the room.

"Ruth, I am pleased to introduce you to Richard," Mrs. McEill said proudly.

"Good morning, Ms. Vyne," Richard greeted me politely.

My God, was he ever gorgeous! He was dressed, rather simply, in what appeared to be a long black silk bathrobe with a hood that gave him an almost monastic appearance. On his feet, adding to the pious appearance of his attire, he wore a simple pair of sandals, similar to those I had worn the previous afternoon when I went to see the gynaecologist. His face was just as kindly as I remembered from his photograph, and even from several feet away from him, I could sense his benevolent nature.

"Richard is twenty seven years old, and has been with us for the last four years," Mrs. McEill said. "In that time he has sired thirty eight babies, including three sets of twins and even a set of triplets."

Mrs. McEill then turned to face him, and I was simply stunned by what she did next.

With one swift tug, she undid the silk cord around his waist and, after stepping around behind him, pulled the robe off his shoulders with a flourish to leave him totally, and very beautifully, naked, save for a small black pendant around his neck on a silver chain. I gasped as I saw the sight of him in all his masculine entirety. Richard, on the other hand, merely stood there, stoically staring straight ahead.

"Do you like what you see?" Mrs. McEill asked me, although to be honest I almost missed what she said entirely.

"Umm, er, he's, er, very nice!" I blustered.

"A nice physique, don't you think?" Mrs. McEill added.

"Er, yes, very much so," I concurred.

"Thank you, Ms. Vyne," Richard said.

He was, and I'm not exaggerating here, the most perfect specimen of masculinity I'd ever set eyes on. I'd seen plenty of naked men before, but they all seemed to have at least one physical flaw, but on Richard I simply could not find a single thing about him that marred his male beauty. His chest was hairless, giving an unobstructed view of his well defined pectorals, crowned by beautifully pert nipples. His stomach was flat, with subtly defined abs that gave his torso the appearance of a well-honed athlete, rather than a bodybuilding beefcake. His shoulders were broad and powerful, and I could imagine this man working in the field, scything wheat or tearing at the soil with a pick axe as the sun glinted off the beads of sweat on his back as he toiled.

His hips were narrow, in contrast to his shoulders, which further added to his seemingly effortless masculinity. His legs were strong and muscular, reminiscent of an Olympian competing on the track. And at his very centre, nestling below one of the most perfect navels I'd ever set eyes on, was the focal point of his maleness - the most beautiful penis I'd ever seen. It was in perfect proportion to the rest of his body - neither too large nor too small, and it rested softly before his testicles, the source of the sperm that would hopefully soon be fertilising my egg. He had only the bare minimum of pubic hair - his balls were cleanly shaven, as was most of the rest of his crotch, all there was in the way of hair was a small, neat patch of it around the top of his penis.

"He looks just as good from behind," I heard Mrs. McEill say to me.

"What? Oh, er, yes," I stammered.

I stepped around him as he stood proudly in the middle of the room, seemingly unperturbed about having his naked body appraised by a fully clothed woman he'd never met before. His shoulder blades showed through his taut, evenly tanned skin, and his spine was as strong and straight as an arrow. His buttocks were as soft and smooth as the most perfect classical sculpture, yet they positively radiated strength - in my mind's eye I visualised the strong muscles contained within those supple cheeks, squeezing and flexing as he thrust his hips into me. I know it sounds corny, but I was definitely feeling moisture gathering inside my underwear - I would definitely have to change them before too long!

"Can I... can I touch him?" I asked Mrs. McEill, sounding like a nervous schoolgirl.

"You'd better ask him that!" Mrs. McEill chortled.

"Please, be my guest, Ms. Vyne," Richard said with a smile, granting me permission to explore him further.

"Oh, please, call me Ruth," I said.

Tentatively, I reached out until my fingers just about made contact with his hairless chest. All of a sudden, his pectorals twitched, which caused me to quickly withdraw my hand. Seeing the look of surprise on my face, Richard smiled and chuckled lightly.

"Sorry, couldn't resist it!" he said with a broad smile. "Please, go right ahead and touch me if you like, Ruth. I don't mind, really!"