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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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Baby Bump
by Abner Wizzle (abnerwizzle@hotmail.com)
***
When your teenage daughter needs that fashionable baby
bump in time for the Senior Prom or graduation, who are
you gonna call? (MF/f-teen, underage, inc, preg)
***
Mrs. Nila Nordquist approached the old oak door with the
half-window of bubbled glass. Stenciled across the
glass' surface were 1940s-era block letters with
exaggerated drop shadows. Mrs. Nordquist grinned
curiously at this anachronism, noting how it reminded
her of an old black-and-white detective movie.
However, there was really nothing anachronistic about it
at all – the stencil read 'Wm. West & Sons – Quality
Breeders'. It was a business nearly as old as the town
of Westchester itself. In fact, the "Wm." in the sign
referred to Wm. West, the great-great-great grandson of
the founder of Westchester, Thaddeus Abbott West, who
was a world-class progenitor and breeder himself. During
his 76 years on this planet, Thaddeus sired at least 400
babies.
Mrs. Nordquist stepped inside. There, at a vintage turn-
of-last-century desk sat Wm. West himself – a very fit,
handsome man in his late 40s, and the patriarch of a
family of breeding professionals. He and his six sons
were who you called if you needed impregnation services
in Westchester. No one did it better, or with a full
money back guarantee.
Mr. West looked up from his Tom Robbins paperback and
gave the attractive woman in his doorway a welcoming
grin. "Mrs. Nordquist, right? Come on in and sit down."
Mrs. Nordquist had explained on the phone why she was
there, but she went into greater detail now. Her 17
year-old daughter Shawna needed to get pregnant as soon
as possible.
"After going through five different boyfriends and even
one of her teachers, Shawna still isn't showing. Here it
is – early January – and she hasn't been impregnated
yet. The Senior Prom is in late May and graduation the
month after that. If she doesn't have a baby bump for
those events, she'll be a complete outcast, Mr. West. I
can't have that – our family's reputation in Westchester
will be ruined."
It was no exaggeration; virtually every other senior
girl at Westchester High – and we're talking 350 young
ladies – had her baby bump coming in on schedule. Shawna
Nordquist was one of the marquee students – blonde,
apple-cheeked, nubile, a cheerleader and valedictorian –
and everyone was expecting her to show up at Prom with a
generous baby bump. It was tradition.
"We've been to her doctor and he ran a whole bunch of
tests and even attempted a fertilization himself with
Shawna. But it didn't take."
Wm. West shook his head with contempt. Damn doctors,
acting like they know how to do a proper fertilization.
It probably wasn't even within Shawna's cycle when he
tried. "Do you have her files?"
Mrs. Nordquist handed over the manila folder and watched
silently as Wm. West thumbed through the charts and
tables on the pages. Finally looking up, he gave the
mother his diagnosis.
"It seems that your daughter is completely normal. She's
just something we call a 'hard case'.
"Hard case?"
"Her eggs are quite finicky. It's gonna take a regimen
of nearly continuous fertilization during her next
cycle, which is –" Wm. West consulted one of the charts
again. "It looks like her next optimal window of
opportunity begins later today and continues all the way
through the end of next week."
Mrs. Norquist smiled. "Great, great." She pulled out her
phone and started texting. "I'll just get Shawna down
here as soon as – "
Wm. West waved her off. "No, no, I'm sorry, Mrs.
Nordquist, but we are booked solid throughout the
weekend. Busy time of the year, y'know. All six of my
boys are busy impregnating clients as we speak."
"Oh, please, Mr. West." Nila Nordquist sounded
desperate.
Wm. West grinned. He'd seen this before. No mother wants
to see her daughter – especially one with such high
social standing – be ostracized from important school
activities because she was the only one without a baby
bump. However, the patriarch remained adamant.
"Like I said, Mrs. Nordquist, your daughter is a 'hard
case'. However, I believe if you get her in here first
thing Monday morning, I can put all six of my boys with
her and they'll give her round-the-clock fertilization
sessions. I guarantee she'll be pregnant by Friday. But
–" Wm. West paused for dramatic effect . "I'm afraid
such an extravagant and intense treatment will be
costly."
Mrs. Nordquist reached into her purse and produced a
huge stack of $100 bills. "Here's five-thousand. That's
your price for the best treatment, no?"
Wm. West smiled and took the stack of cash. "Perfect,
Mrs. Nordquist."
"But are you sure it will work? Can you really guarantee
your work?"
Wm. West flashed Nila Nordquist the countenance of a
proud and confident businessman. He glanced at the clock
on the wall. "How about this? I have an appointment at
2pm, but if you'd like a free sample of our work here,
I'd be happy to provide it and explain a little further
how this works." Wm. West rose from behind his desk. He
was wearing tight tan slacks and the clear outline of
his breeding pole indicated that it was at least 10
inches long and as thick as a kielbasa sausage.
Mrs. Nordquist swallowed hard and suddenly felt her face
grow hot and flushed. She sensed a growing wetness
between her legs as her natural breeding juices
lubricated the walls of her love canal. All she could do
was nod as she followed Wm. West through the rear doors
and into the Breeding House.
The sounds of feminine pleasure – the purring and cooing
and squeals of joy – filled the hallways as the two
walked past one closed door and then another. "It's
important during the mating act for the female to be
fully receptive, and pure pleasurable sensations are the
best way to guarantee that she is absolutely open and
ready to be fertilized. My boys and I make sure that the
pleasure of the client is Job #1. After that,
fertilization is a snap."
Wm. West led Mrs. Nordquist past a room with a Jacuzzi
in it. "Preparation is important to prime the female to
be extra receptive to a man's seed. We will make sure
your daughter spends a lot of time here. The warm water
and bubbles will coax her eggs to the fore of her womb.
Then, she will have her babyhole massaged orally by my
sons Justin and Jorge. That's a specialty of them both."
Nila Nordquist's own babyhole was throbbing as sexblood
pumped throughout her labia and love mound. She couldn't
help it and she started rubbing the visible cleft,
causing an exaggerated camel-toe in her tight white
slacks.
Wm. West grinned. They stopped at the last door at the
end of the hallway. "It looks like you might not need a
dip in the Jacuzzi or an oral massage. No, not at all."
He opened the door and Mrs. Nordquist stepped inside the
bedroom. Taking up nearly the entire tiny room was a
king-sized bed with a four-poster frame. Still rubbing
her crotch, breeding juice began to stain the crotch of
her slacks. She watched with a boiling passion in her
eyes as Mr. West began undressing.
"Now, before I put my breeding pole in you, you need to
understand this is a free sample and there is no
guarantee, no warranty, nothing implied. I am merely
demonstrating just a glimpse of what your daughter will
receive next week during her fertilization."
Mrs. Nordquist was now overwhelmed by lust as she pulled
off her shirt without unbuttoning it, popping the
buttons and sending little coral projectiles flying
throughout the bedroom. She was now grinding her mound
against one of polished oak knobs on the lower bedpost
as a guttural purring emerged from deep down in her
throat. Pure animal instinct had taken over her mind and
she was more than ready for Wm. West's breeding pole.
She tore off her slacks and panties and crawled onto the
bed on all fours. She thrust her ample round rump high
up into the air, displaying her distended, swollen
labia. Her natural breeding juices dripped onto the
bedspread as she flexed the opening to her love canal
and moved her hips as if she were doing a subdued belly
dance.
Wm. West, although all business, always enjoyed this
part of the mating ritual the most. All of that activity
was virtually involuntary in the female, as the breeding
instincts overtook all control of the brain and body.
Mrs. Nordquist was absolutely at her arousal zenith and
completely primed for breeding. As he readied himself to
mount her from behind, the thought crossed his mind that
she was probably at the beginning of her fertility
cycle, just like her daughter. After all, women who
lived together often had their cycles link up over time.
Reduced to animal groans, but desperately wanting to be
penetrated, Nila Nordquist squealed with pleasure as Wm.
West mounted her with a long violent jab up her inflamed
oily-slick babyhole. She climaxed within seconds – one
time, two times, three times – as Mr. West worked his
breeding pole deep inside her. After a few more
climaxes, Mr. West pulled out and allowed Mrs. Nordquist
to straddle him and copulate through several more
sensations. Then, Wm. West pulled out again, pushed her
onto her back and mounted her yet again, this time to
begin the fertilization.
With Nila's fingernails digging into his back and her
hips thrusting like a locomotive, she wailed
uncontrollably as Mr. West groaned deeply – his only
concession to the intense sensations that came with the
culmination of his job – and sent huge hydraulic spurts
of babyjuice into his client. Overcome by sensations,
Mrs. Nordquist was still aware that she was being
fertilized, and fertilized mightily by this
professional.
And it was the first time it crossed her mind that she
hadn't worn her IUD today.
***
Later, after getting dressed and returning to the
office, Mrs. Nordquist texted her daughter to let her
know the plan for next week – five days in the Breeding
House, with all six West boys servicing her womb and
guaranteeing a late-May baby bump.
But then Nila Nordquist returned to HER needs. "That was
really something, Mr. West."
Wm. West was usually all professional, but he liked this
one. He smiled. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. And I'm sure
your daughter will be very pleased with my boys and
their breeding poles."
"Oh, I'm sure. But –" Mrs. Nordquist hesitated. She
licked her lips, partly to be seductive, but also
because she was still a little wobbly from the breeding
session. "I think I want a baby bump, too. I haven't had
one in 17 years and I'm not getting any younger."
Wm. West glanced at the 2-carat wedding ring on her left
hand. "Don't you want your husband to do the honors?"
Mrs. Nordquist sat on the edge of the desk and moved in
closer, again licking her lips. "I've never been so
receptive to fertilization in my life as I was just now
with you. I know you'll give me a baby bump. I just know
it." She cast her eyes downward like a shy schoolgirl.
"I know you don't work for free, and I'm tapped out
paying for my daughter's fertilization, but..."
Nila Nordquist slipped the wedding ring off her finger
and handed it to Wm. West. "Please. It's worth at least
$2000. Please give me a baby bump, Mr. West."
Wm. West eyed Mrs. Nordquist and decided that she did
have a pretty hot body for an older client. In fact, he
certainly didn't mind the idea of spending the
afternoons with her during her fertile cycle. Even
though she was deep into her 40s, there was still a very
real possibility of knocking her up. He would never
admit it, but he even briefly considered a little pro
bono breeding with Nila Nordquist.
Finally, the patriarch smiled and agreed to the payment.
"It's pretty busy this time of year, but I think I can
squeeze you in." He rubbed the crotch of his slacks.
"Especially since you're right in the sweet spot of your
breeding cycle. Tomorrow afternoon, about the same
time?"
Nila Nordquist nodded appreciatively. "Thank you, Mr.
West. See you tomorrow." She blew him a kiss and then
slipped out the front door.
Wm. West felt a rare excitable throb up and down the
length of his breeding pole. He realized he was looking
forward to tomorrow afternoon. He hadn't felt that way
about a client in a long, long time and he couldn't help
but smile at this unexpected rejuvenation.
Then he opened his desk drawer, revealing a huge pile of
precious rings, necklaces and loose diamonds. He tossed
Nila's wedding ring on top of stack, and reminded
himself that he really needed to make a trip to
Westchester Gold & Gem to convert the jewelry into cash.
***
While Nila Nordquist was getting her satisfaction
guaranteed, it turned out that her 17 year-old daughter
Shawna was not at school taking her algebra exam like
she was supposed to. Instead, she was still at home.
She'd decided to hedge her bets and make damn sure she'd
have the baby bump she so desperately wanted for her
Senior Prom and her graduation ceremony.
Make no mistake – she was looking forward to spending
next week being sexually satisfied and expertly
fertilized by the breeding poles of the six handsome and
studly West boys. But she had another idea she wanted to
explore first.
Shawna's father, Dan, was a highly-fertile 42 year-old
man who'd already impregnated two of Shawna's teenaged
friends during a pretty wild Halloween party this past
year. Jacquelyn and Traci were both beginning to show,
and each of their baby bumps would be fully blossomed by
the time the Senior Prom rolled around.
Shawna shed her nightgown and let herself into the
Master Bathroom where her father was showering before
work. She pulled back the blue vinyl curtain and swiftly
slipped under the water before her surprised father
could react.
"Hi, Daddy," she smiled as she wrapped her arms around
him. "Hope you don't mind me joining you." Before he
could answer, she gave him a passionate french kiss.
Soon, both father and daughter were engaged in a full
erotic embrace.
Dan Nordquist's breeding pole was instantly firm and
expanded. Shawna leapt up into her father's arms and
rubbed her hot dripping babyhole seductively up and down
the shaft, coaxing him to do what nature intently
dictated.
"Uhhoooohh!" Shawna cried softly as her father slid deep
up inside her love canal. Dan groaned with satisfaction
as his breeding pole reached its limit. Their incestuous
coupling soon became frenzied and lustful, a pure carnal
hunger, all grunts and gropes and feverish rutting.
It didn't take long before Dan's daughter was climaxing
long and loud, crying for his seed. "Give it to me,
Daddy! Knock me up...Pleeeeeease!"
Hearing his daughter begging to be impregnated caused
Dan to lose all control and he fertilized her tender
womb with great generous gushes of hot babyjuice. "Uhh,
my god, Shawna..." he managed as their first breeding
tryst reached an apex.
They exited the bathroom and moved into the bedroom.
"Why didn't you tell me earlier that you wanted me to
get you pregnant?" Dan asked his 17 year-old daughter as
they fell onto the bed and into a fresh embrace, their
skin still warm and moist from the shower. "I didn't
know you were having difficulties with...how many
different boyfriends have you had this year?"
Shawna giggled. "Lots, Daddy," she responded before
kissing him again. "But I guess those schoolboys aren't
potent enough for me." She gazed deep into her father's
eyes. "But I know you are. You gave my both my best
friends baby bumps and I want one, too."
Shawna fluttered her eyelashes and pursed her lips,
mock-pouting and playing up her role as Daddy's Little
Girl. "You want me to be happy, don't you, Daddy? Right
now, I'm the only girl at Westchester High who won't
have a baby bump for Prom."
Shawna ran her hand down between Dan's legs and caressed
his heavy seed-filled balls. "I want you to breed with
me today and tomorrow and the next day, Daddy. I want
you to fertilize my eggs and make a baby in me."
Dan smiled as he eased his daughter onto her back and
mounted her again. "Of course I will, Honey. But it's
only a few months until your Prom and graduation. I hope
I can help you in time." He moaned as he again sank his
breeding pole deep inside Shawna's cozy babyhole. She
sighed contently and the two fell into a slow,
deliberate breeding rhythm.
Dan had an important meeting at work, but family came
first. And both of them were going to come a lot before
the day was over.
Dan bred with his teenage daughter all morning and into
the afternoon, fertilizing her again and again. Even
after Mrs. Nordquist returned home, father and daughter
remained in the Master Bedroom, their mutual pleasured
moans filtering through the closed door and throughout
the family home.
As she prepared the family's dinner, Nila could only
smile with approval. Perhaps her daughter would be ready
for Prom after all.
END
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The author does not condone child abuse, this story is
meant as an erotic fantasy not depicting anything in
real life. Anyone acting out such scenarios in "real
life" can look forward to many unproductive years
getting it up the butt by a fellow convict in their
local prison system.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 83