Lady of Flanders 04: Pregnant, Horny

Aleid is brood slave to the Master, friend to sex-fiend Gia.

And now she's pregnant and horny as hell.

Pregnant and Horny

Pregnancy took less time than she'd planned. Her period was due according to the moon, but was a day late and then three. She imagined she could feel herself changing, though it was early.

She attended more to Gia's licking of her nipples, enjoying it acutely, but that might just have been her vivid imagination at work.

She spent hours in the garden imagining what the whelp would look like, who's it was. It could be anybody's since only weeks had passed from her first assault.

If it was the Pirate Captains, it would be dark and thin. A sailors - squat and strong. The Master's? She imagined brutish and short with a perpetual sneer.

What of the manservant? Could she be pregnant from the treatment he'd given her?

She wasn't sure. His cock had been thoroughly inside her; his cum had flowed profusely. Any part of her insides involved with baby making had probably been drenched in it. She was doubtful, having not had a mother she was ignorant of the particulars.

She played at imagining a child dark as night and strong. She even dreamed of having Gia's child, though that was preposterous. Still having an elfin baby appealed to her in her dreams.

Gia figured it out soon, how she couldn't tell. But the next time Gia visited she took one look at Aleid lying naked and exclaimed!

Then she slipped up to her in the bed, putting one hand on her stomach, still flat and not showing.

Gia made a show of listening at her belly, then turned her head and smiled a wide smile into her eyes.

That night Gia was like a wild cat, cumming three times for her, making her cum twice. Afterward they lay in the moonlight, sweaty, limbs entwined, Gia kissing Aleid's belly absently and twirling a finger in her pussy hair, matted with girl cum.

From then Gia brought extra food - a strange rubbery cheese, some crunchy green root vegetables, occasionally a little wine. She would sing as she came in, depositing the tray and bending to kiss Aleid's belly, then skipping out again while the older maid stood blocking the door looking severe.

The cheese was salty and rich, not like the cow's milk cheeses she'd grown up with but with vivid flavor and a tangy aftertaste. She grew to like it, and looked forward to Gia's little additions to her tray.

Being strong but slight, it didn't take but a month for Aleid to show. Her bump raised the hem of her gown obscenely, looking as if she was always raising her shirt to show her sex. Gia thought it was hilarious, teasing and tugging at the blouse and releasing it to pop up, dissolving her into giggles.

Aleid soon took to leaving the garment off entirely, doing her daily functions naked but for straw sandals and a ribbon in her hair.

Whether this nakedness was the reason or not, the Master's visits did not stop or even diminish. He regularly stopped by her chamber in the evening, and whereever he found her he would wrap his arms around her from behind, stroke her belly and breasts, and then bend her over and enter her from the rear.

Her condition seemed to excite him for now he would spend a little time in fingering her cunt and explore her wetness with the tip of his cock, before settling in to stroke and cum. Still he would leave right afterward, maybe pausing to suck each tit before striding off without a word.

Trying to make herself understood to Gia, she hesitantly asked why the Master continued to cum in her even though she was pregnant. Once she got past the giggles and obscene gestures, Gia understood instantly.

"To make strong! Each time, baby stronger!"

So that was their tradition - a pregnant woman was supposed to gain vigor for the child through continued fucking and semen injection.

Aleid had no response to that. As far as she knew, it could even be true. And strong babies was the reason she was there after all - to provide beautiful girls for sale, and strong boys to crew the Master's trading ships.

Her breast began to swell long before she was to deliver. It could have been the Master's habit of massaging and sucking her after sex. In any case her tits grew unreasonably larger and her nipples darkened.

In only a few weeks she began to leak milk, first at night and then all the time.

Gia helped with this, by relieving her of her milk when she shared her bed - Gia seemed especially satisfied to drain first one tit and then the other, sucking and swallowing the increasing flow with enthusiasm.

Aleid thought Gia might even be getting a little rounder from all the extra milk she consumed.

On days Gia did not share her bed she would have to go into the garden, lean over the bench and massage her nipples herself. Once the milk started flowing it would stream by itself from her tits like a small fountain, spraying in several directions until she was drained.

Aleid hoped it was good for the flowers. At least she could sleep better without the pressure.

In her sixth month, on Sunday which she knew by the sounds of the Church and the traffic in the streets outside her wall, Gia came to her midmorning.

"You go! To Church! Master wants you!"

The oaken door was open, the older maid ready with a shawl. Stunned, Gia sliped her gown over her head and Aleid walked through into the corridor she had last seen the day of her incarceration, following the maid to the servant's entrance.

Outside was the horse and wagon, again driven by the dark manservant. He stepped down, lifted Aleid into the box like she weight nothing, and fastened her ankle with the cord.

His knots were competent and strong. She sat in the hay and the cart started off.

The Church was not far, she knew that from the sound of the bells. It was halfway down the hill their house occupied, on a small rise.

A path in front contained carriages with fine ladies and men getting out and gathering for the service. Her driver did not use the path but pulled into a lane by the cemetery.

Here was the Master already, in conversation with a group of similar men. They all had the same arrogant bearing, the same rich clothes, riding boots.

The manservant unhitched her, lifted her down and bade her approach the men. She walked the short path, wondering if she should try to run. But where? Before she could consider a plan, Master saw her, beckoned.

With one hand on her shoulder, he presented her to the group. Their eyes raked her, saw her hair, her fair skin, her swollen belly.

They looked at her, but none saw her - they saw only a fine filly, big with foal. She was property, and he was showing her off.

Whisking the shawl off her shoulders, they gasped at her near nakedness. Master bade them come forward, and they each spent a time stroking her bare belly, patting her thighs, even fingering her cunt.

One even put a finger in her mouth, drew back her lip to see her fine teeth. This man boldly grasped a breast, pulled it from her shift and squeezed expertly - sprayed her milk in an arc to land in the grass. The others spoke to the Master, congratulating him, admiring his good buy and his skill in breeding.

The Church bell rang, and the men made to go inside. She wondered what next? Would she be paraded into the building, to be shown to the good people of the town in front of the priest? Perhaps the priest would have a go at her!

But no, the manservant stepped up and took her in charge, picked up her shawl and led her back to the wagon as the service began. They were to wait here it seemed.

She looked at the man leaning on the box, clearly bored with this task. His arms were crossed, the muscles standing out in relief from his shoulders. He shifted against the wagon, and she saw movement beneath his shirt.

She flushed involuntarily, suddenly hot even in the brief garment and with the cool breeze. She made a decision.

Turning from him, she began to walk toward a small stone crypt. She heard him straighten and come for her. Stopping, she turned and gave him a look as he reached for her shoulder. She shrugged away from his hand, stepped up to him and thrust one hand down his pants.

He looked surprised, then understanding dawned. He leered, grabbed her arm and began pulling it up and down, rubbing her hand on his cock.

Beneath her hand she felt the monster stir, growing at an alarming rate, filling her hand and erupting up through the waist of his pants.

Grabbing him, her fingers barely able to wrap fully around his member, she tugged him toward the crypt like leading a bull by a rope.

The doorway was carved as two pillars entwined with flowers. Inside was a stone box, about waist-high, carved similarly. A sarcophagus.

She went in, still pulling him by his cock, sat on the box, and with one hand slipped her garment over her head.

Her light skin shone in the darkness. She could barely see his dark form in the dim enclosure, save his teeth which were displayed in a leering smile.

He dropped his pants, stepped to her. Lifting her, he turned her, bent her over the box.

Her belly was cold against the stone, her elbows bracing her, her backside presented for his enjoyment. She felt his prodigious cock probing her butt, looking for it's home.

Reaching between her legs, she grabbed him. Pulling downward, tilting her hips to expose her sex, she planted his engorged tip firmly in her cunt. He gasped, surprised again.

Moving as if to pull away, mindful of his Masters wrath, she could tell the moment the light dawned in his mind. She was already pregnant! He could have her any way he wanted, and no one would ever know.

Grabbing her hips he lifted her unexpectedly off the stone, and she released her grip. His cock rose with her until it stood straight up, the knob engaged with her vulva, poised to enter.

She was upright on her toes now, almost dangling in his grip. Slowly, deliberately he lowered her inch by inch, his immense length feeding into her body, her cunt clutching and stretching against the invasion.

She gave in to the sensation, straightening and leaning back between his arms, her back against his rippling chest, her arms raised to stroke his muscled shoulders, her prodigious breasts jutting forward, her belly turgid and prominent.

An involuntary groan escaped her throat, sounding more like a wail of anguish than lust. It was too big! Surely he would have to stop! But wasn't it about the size of Gia's arm? This could work!

Soon she felt the jolt! as he hit her innermost parts. He pushed her down a little bit more; she winced at the pressure. Then he shifted his hands to her waist, began slowly to ease her up and down.

Like a puppet on a stick, he manipulated her body as a sort of sock for his member. No, not a sock. A butter churn, his cock was the dasher and she was the churn!

Slish-slosh, slish-slosh, he filled her cunt with his cock, turning her guts into butter. Half-way inside her, then lifted almost out, then down! and partly sheathed inside again.

His pulsing tip leaked juices into her. His slippery slush and hers mixed, became oily and slick. A dozen strokes and she felt her orgasm rising, cumming, clenching on his shaft, lifting and scissoring her legs to trap him inside as she gushed forth.

He shortened his stroke, jiggling her up and down now, enjoying her spasming cunt, began cumming in her, the semen filling her then spurting out around his shaft through her clenching pussy lips.

She cried out, bend her legs back and twined them around his rock-hard thighs, clinging to him, suspended in the air now, torso convulsing against his muscled chest and stomach. He held her for a long moment this way, pressed against his body, orgasmic pulses slowing.

When he was spent he gently raised her up, pulled her off of him with a gush of released cum. She untangled her legs, pointed her toes looking for purchase, his fluid flowing down both legs, dripping from her feet.

He deposited her back on the ground, wet cock bumping into her back, smearing her there too. Weak in the knees, she fell forward over the crypt again, belly against stone, nipples scraping the surface, supporting herself with her arms.

By the time she'd regained her balance he was gone. She spent a moment just leaning on the cool stone, the storm in her body settling.

Looking around she spied some wilted flowers on the sarcophagus; plucking the soft blossoms she fashioned a wad and scraped her legs fairly clean with it, stropping the cum off her thighs and calves, spattering the stone. Her feet still squished in her sandals.

She tossed the sodden wad in a corner, slipped on her garment and stepped outside. He was lounging against the wagon again, as if nothing had happened, gazing into the middle distance.

She walked back toward him, stumbling once as a weakened knee buckled. He laughed at this, stepped to meet her, picked her up effortlessly and carried her to the back of the wagon, sat her on the straw.

His consideration softened her.

She sat cross-legged, flexed the muscles of her cunt, squeezing their cum out of her vulva onto the wagon bed with lewd bubbles and pops. He looked at this, as if unable to look away.

Standing in front of her, she saw his still-stiff member just poking through his waistband. Reaching out one soft hand, she stroked the head gently. It pulsed warmly; she grasped it, rubbed the tip with her palm.

He took her wrist, prised her hand away, shook his head. She smiled wickedly at him, shook her hand free. Impulsively she leaned over and kissed his wet tip.

He stepped back, alarmed. Taking the rope he fastened the ankle she held out for him, then returned to the front of the wagon. He remained there, not looking at her, until the bells rang again.

The master came out of the church still in the company of his cohort. Scanning the cemetery he caught his manservant's attention, gave him a sign. The man stepped into the wagon, gave a cluck! and the horse started off.

Taking the path through the cemetery, passing strangely shaped headstones and curiously carved mausoleums of saints she could not identify, they came out the other side, turned into an alley between two boarding houses.

This way was little used, and theirs was the only traffic as far as she could see.

Narrow balconies lined the upper stories on both sides. Two women gathering clothes from crossed lines overhead on opposite side called out with musical voices; the African gave each a dismissive wave.

They called out more challengingly, clearly meaning to get a rise out of him. He laughed, answered in kind, then impulsively pulled back on the reins, stopped the horse.

Stepping into the box with her, he looked up at the two women in turn, met their gaze, dropped his short pants. He put a hand behind Aleid's head as she sat and poked his now-rampant member at her face.

Catching it in one hand, she opened her mouth and sucked it in, in one motion.

It was so big around, it strained her mouth even to get the tip inside! So much larger than any of the sailors had been, even slick with her recent juices it barely slid between her lips.

She could not possibly get her tongue in position to lick at the underside. She bobbed her head in short strokes, just accomodating the bulbous head.

Unsatisfied, he put one hand behind her head and shoved! his hips forward. The enormous cock drove back through her head and into her throat.

She tried to gag but there was no room; she succeeded only in going bug-eyed and heaving her breast.

He steadily slid down her throat, the cock entering an improbable distance into her body. She curved her back and neck, straightening the path from lips to stomach so he could fit even more.

With long careful strokes he eased nearly out, just the bulb in her mouth, her tongue caressing it, then plunged back down her gullet.

She gasped a quick breath at each extraction, slobbering and choking.

The women were crying out loudly now, irate and catty, bent over their railings, full breasts bobbing in their work dress, shaking their fists. He laughed, gave her face two more thrusts, then held and began to cum inside her.

Holding her head, pushing, pushing, he deposited spurt after spurt directly into her throat, cock almost entirely sheathed inside her, her nose nearly touching his black bush. She tried to swallow, but the cock jammed in her throat prevented even that.

He moaned theatrically, head back, an ecstatic look on his face. She held her breath, grasped his spasming balls, and held on for dear life as his member pulsed cum directly into her stomach.

Content with the display, he let her go. She pulled her head back carefully, extracting him like some circus clown pulling a sausage out of a bag. Ropes of spit and cum followed, and once clear she went into a coughing fit.

He paid no mind, fetching his pants back up and making one last comment to his audience. Returning to the driver's seat he soon had the wagon underway.

Jeers followed them down the lane.

An empty grain sack served to blot her face, chin and breast, clean away some of the evidence of sex.

She wondered to herself, how had this happened? Was this man any different from the others, wanting her body to satisfy his lust?

She had not planned it. But somehow, making even this small choice gave her some power over her life. She had used his body to gain some measure of satisfaction for herself. It was more control than she'd had in a long time. That would have to be enough.

Back at the manor house she was escorted to her chambers by the disagreeable maid. Gia met her passing in the hallway, looked her over critically, noticed some matted cum on her bush, gave her a glare.

It was more cute than angry. Aleid grinned at her, pleased to have news to share with Gia later that night.

Gia appeared almost immediately she was in her room, bursting in like a storm cloud. She blew past and out the exterior door without pausing. Aleid followed meekly.

They both sat on the bench in the garden. Aleid petted her shoulder, kissed the side of her face, held her hand. It didn't take long for Gia to forgive her.

She was more interested in descriptions of the African's body anyway, his enormous member. Holding her hands apart half a foot, Aleid shook her head No! and pulled them apart, doubling the distance. Gia's eyes widened, her expression uncertain whether to believe.

She then made a ring with thumb and index finger, showing Aleid. Her hands were tiny, and the suggested girth was no larger than any ordinary man. Again, No! and the took Gia's entire arm, wrapped her own hand around that, showed Gia. Again, disbelief, then they both burst into laughter.

Gia said "I fit, I go in you. Maybe so!", mimed shoving her clenched fist up inside Aleid obscenely.

Aleid bit her lower lip, took the outstretched arm, lowered it to her cunt, bumped the fist against her crotch gently. Reaching across to Gia's lap, she slipped her hand under her dress hem and laid two fingers on her pretty bush.

Gia understood at once, but shook her head.

"Not now!" Seeing Aleid's disappointment, she added "Tonight!" She stood and led Aleid back inside, and left.

It was hard to wait. She fiddled in the garden, pulled a few weeds, picked some buds to float in her pitcher, straightened her bedclothes, arranged her hair. For some reason tonight seemed special; she didn't know why.

She was still very, very pregnant. She had just fucked another man, to Gia's discomfort. What would be changed now?

Would Gia still be the limber wildcat she'd been? Would she punish her for taking a cock other than the master's? Had it been a mistake?

Unreasonably she valued Gia's opinion of her, and got herself into a state over what her rash actions of the day might have undone. By the time the light was falling, she was so worked up she couldn't see how she would sleep. But suddenly it was dark, and Gia was beside her.