Kit's such a whore...

The man snuck quietly in the dark room ; the curtains on the large bed throning in the middle unmoved. As he removed his garments by himself her voice came, sleepy, from a daze beyond, just like a lullaby.
"Come to me, love."
"I'm soiled, Kittyⁱ." he offered, as he climbed inside the contraption. She wallowed and struggled in her chemise like a seal moving on land, her pregnancy quite as advanced as to appear over-term.
"Is my sweet rod covered in some whore's secret juice ?" she inquired, sing-song voice betraying much excitement on her part. "I wonder if I can guess which one!" She put her lips to his liberated manhood carefully in the dark, and licked it exploringly. "Oh my! This is no whore, not just yet! This is a maiden's eager young blood!"
"So it is."
"An hour old ?"
"I just left her but a moment ago."
"So fresh... so lovely... she is so healthy... was she a great fuck ?"
"That she was. I expect she's still bleeding in my cum inside of her."
"Please Johann, force it into my womb. I want to feed its taste to my boy I'm feeding inside me for you, so he remembers it when grown."

The man did her bidding, helping her on her back and then stroking her much engorged flower slowly on his bloodied rod.
"I'm keeping tally of them all, you know." she whispered to him, past him. "When he'll be grown I'll bring them over, one by one, and say to him 'Behold my son, that woman. See her ? Mark her well ; for when I was rounded and full with you as yet unborn, your father slayed her in the lovely way. He took her maidenhead from her, and that's how she became a woman, while you were becoming a newborn boy!' And then I'll say to her, 'Come, show my son where on your body his father wounded you.' and they'll strip naked, or maybe just lift up their skirts, and spread their legs, and show him womanhood ; and he'll fuck them all."
"What if they're married, Kitty ?"
"It is his birthright! Besides, they won't mind... Who was it, which shy little young maid did you ravish tonight ?" The man made no answer. It wasn't hostility or disinterest, on the contrary, he was watching her with happy, smiling eyes, half convinced she'd guess, half teasing her, egging her on to try. "I bet it was Griet, that young slut from the country. She was eating you with her eyes so..."
"That's right."
"How did you do her ?"
"I gave her to Pieter's boy for amusement, to play with her while he ate, and for her to eat him like a Frenchwoman afterwards."
"Then you walked in on them ?"
"Indeed."
"And he was on his back, her bent over him, suckling him ?"
"Precisely."
"So you went over to her, and took her from behind ? Did she struggle ?"
"No, she parted her flesh with her own hand."
"Eager little slut."
"So I said, and she agreed. She says she'll do it anytime."
"What did Mssr van Ruijven's boy say ?"
"He wants to marry her."
"A good match. Will you permit it ?"
"I think I will, once we're done with her."
"You told him so, no doubt ?"
"Indeed."
"May I ring for her ?"
"No. Let her have her whore's pay, why suck it right back out of her ?"
"Because it is delicious. And I love to! Sucking the lovely cream filling back out of their choux a la creme... you scatter it and I try to gather it all back inside me, isn't that we do ?"
"Besides, the boy will want his own way with her. So he can never know for sure whose she really was tonight, once they are married."
"You think he's smart enough for that ?"
"He seemed smart enough ; besides, she's there to press it on him. I think she wants to marry too, and what is better for a servant than that doubt ?"
"It is the best way for the first time, when they are thoroughly filled and their womb makes its own choice, secretly, inside of them. Shall I have her in my bed tomorrow night then ?"
"You long to make her caress you with her mouth, don't you."
"I do. I'll have her kiss my monstrous, engorged cunt, while I tell her fanciful tales and imagined stories of pregnancy, whispered horrors in her ear."
"You're such a whore, Kit."
"Thank you, milord."

1. Really the historical character's name's just perfect! Dutch Catharina can be affectionately rendered Carine, Cato, Ina, Kaat, 'Kaatje, Rina, Nienke, Tiny, Toos, Trijn, I think there's perhaps a dozen more, all of which would work splendidly. It is the first time, and a mindblowing experience of record setting in my tortured existence as a calophile, whereby there's such abundance of perfectly workable options to impossibly choose among. Life always almost plays out the other way, when one's stuck choosing between three or four miserable candidates that none really work ; that's what I hate the most. Sometimes there's a self-obvious single candidate (though self-obvious means it's seldom obvious to anyone but me, at least before it's written down), which is how most of my writing proceeds, the words are hammered in place since before the world began, just, nobody was there to know it then. This time, though...

   PS. A calophile is one who writes considering the actual words he uses, as opposed to one whose preoccupation is with the "ideas" he supposedly "expresses". I know you didn't know.

   PPS. Speaking of that ridiculously retarded nedeflorena whose principal claim to fame'd be, as far as I can tell, having completed her scullery training at something called The Chevy Chase Highschool : Vermeer did not use "Indian yellow", it's Old Master's yellow, aite ? Dumbass. [↩]