Page 15 of Against Her Will

He was already dressed, and she wasn’t allowed to dress in anything other than her chains, so they were ready quickly. No breakfast was eaten by him or offered to her, which was strange and out of their ordinary routine.

He fastened a lead to her collar, then used it to pull her out of the room. She couldn’t walk nearly as fast as he could, since the chains between her feet, which were removable, had deliberately been kept short, and not wanting to cause her to fall he moved behind her, instead, using the end of the leather leash on her behind frequently to encourage her to walk as fast as she could.

They went back into the other side of the building, where she hadn’t been since she was brought to him, and turned into a room that looked somewhat like the examination room she had first been in, but it wasn’t as big. There was a table there that she recognized – and didn’t want to – with the same type of strange things for her feet.

Jurek motioned for her to get onto the table, and she did so, growing ever more nervous as the seconds passed.

The door opened, and the Count came in, smiling at Jurek but not acknowledging Cassie in the least, for which she was eternally grateful - although he did stare at her in a very unnerving manner but it was her body or hair that he was looking at, never her eyes.

Then a strange man came into the room. He was small and wiry and didn’t look at any of them at all, although he did execute a bit of a bow to the Count. Jurek jumped to get her into a better position as they conversed around her in a language she couldn’t understand, but that she might have guessed was German or Polish or Russian or something like that, but she soon became more preoccupied with what Jurek was doing to her than worrying about what they might be saying about her.

She was strapped down to the table, her wrists in the familiar position above her head, her ankles spread wide apart and fitted into those strange metal cups and fastened there, so that she couldn’t remove them.

The strange man took a seat between her splayed legs as all of Cassie flushed violently hot, so much so that she thought she was going to faint. She didn’t think she’d ever get used to being so callously handled and looked upon as nothing more than an object. This man didn’t make any move to talk to her at all or help her fell less embarrassed or nervous about what he was going to do as he probed her inside and out, feeling her lower stomach and pressing two fingers up inside her with no lubricant at all, making her moan slightly until she saw Jurek frowning furiously at her and she knew she had just chalked up yet another painful punishment that would no doubt be delivered the moment they ended up back in his room.

But Cassie couldn’t worry about that now. She was much more concerned about how she was being handled by this man, who kept shoving fingers inside her and pressing down on her lower stomach, rattling off things to Jurek and the Count about her that she couldn’t understand.

Something he said made them very happy, though, and Cassie didn’t think she wanted to know what it was, but after he had left, Jurek lifted her off the table rather than expecting her to get off it herself, and carried her back to his room after enthusiastically shaking the Count’s hand.

“This is the best news,” he fairly crowed as he lay her down on his bed. “You’re pregnant. And so soon! That’s very good! I’ll be able to get a lot of suckers off you if you’re so easily caught.”

The news wasn’t good as far as Cassie was concerned. She had prayed that she would be barren, but her monthlies were regular as clockwork, and she hadn’t had one since the time she had told him about the first day she had known him.

She didn’t want to be pregnant, and certainly didn’t want to be forced to give birth to a baby that was going to be taken from her as soon as it was born, but she had yet to see a way to escape. She was constantly bound and often watched, or both at the same time. There was just no clear cut opportunity.

There was one good thing about her condition, though. It hadn’t just been his elation that had kept Jurek from punishing her for her audacity at groaning as a man she didn’t know stuck his big fingers up her. For the next three months, he barely touched her, except to help her on and off the bed. He even bathed her himself, having a big brass tub brought into his room as he did for his own baths instead of the usual method of letting the matrons scrap the skin of her till she was raw.

She was barely allowed to stand on her own, and spent most of her time in bed, not even bound, usually, although she had noticed that there were always now two guards outside the door, so she couldn’t have gotten far anyway. She was given her own trays of food, which seemed to be of even better quality than what Jurek had so graciously allowed her, and was even given English books to read to pass the time.

Unfortunately, Jurek and the Count were trying to be so cautious with her pregnancy that she had to see the doctor almost every day, which meant letting another boor of a man paw around between her legs what seemed like every five seconds. At least when Jurek had fucked her, he had often brought her to ecstasy, too. Granted, he was only doing it because he knew she hated it, but still. At least it was something – an acknowledgement of her presence. Their “doctor” – if he even was one – was quite perfunctory and very sausage fingered, at that, prying her rudely open each time without ever even the nicety of something to aid his entry.

There was another benefit though, but at first she wouldn’t have agreed that it was one. They were trying to keep her as relax and happy as was possible for her situation, so that she was less likely to lose the baby in the first trimester, which was when that was most likely to happen. So one morning, not long after she had been told she was enceinte, the two matrons appeared at the door again, and Jurek ushered them in. They had brought a portable version of the examination table, so Cassie was on alert. Jurek lifted her off his bed and placed her onto the table, face down, saying nothing more than “Stay.”

The next half an hour or so was about the same haze as had been the weeks of travel after Paris, although not at first. The two women dipped their hands into heated lavender oil, and then began to massage her, gently at first, then with more vigor.

This was yet another thing that she wished she could avoid responding to, but those two women made her putty in their hands within seconds of the time their hands met her shoulders, where she had always carried stress.

And when they were done, before she could gather enough strength to move, Jurek began to stroke her himself, insinuating his big hand between her legs, using some of the lotion that remained to ease his passage until he found exactly what he wanted – her clit. It had been neglected a bit lately – Victor didn’t think that orgasms were good for pregnant women – especially at the beginning of their pregnancies. Jurek didn’t necessarily agree, although he couldn’t really see anything wrong with being overly cautious, especially in Cassie’s case.

But she was so relaxed he couldn’t resist toying with her a bit, flicking and pressing and ever so slightly pinching that impudent bud as it swelled between his fingers, and he heard Cassie moan softly and redoubled his efforts, leaning down to kiss her bare backside – absent, as it was of any signs of punishment, since that, too, was verboten but for the entirety of her gestation, not just the first few months. He pressed his whole face into her bottom cheek, then grazed it with his teeth, nibbling just a bit as his fingers worked their magic, swirling and gliding and teasing her incessantly until he could tell she could tolerate not one more stroke.

“Cum, Cassie. Do as you’re told and cum for me.”

She rode his fingers like a well trained whore, moaning and writhing and screaming breathlessly through two full peaks, and then a smaller, more sedate third.

“Very nice,” he complimented, wrapping her up in a blanket and bringing her back to the bed.

Cassie’s pregnancy proceeded with no problems, except for the fact that her breasts and belly had expanded enormously very early on, which lead the doctor to believe that she might be carrying twins.

“Do they run in her family?” he asked the men, who then translated the question to Cassie.

She thought about it for a moment, then said, “I don’t think I remember hearing about any sets of twins on either side. Why? Am I having twins?” she asked.

But no one answered her question. As little as possible was done that might trigger a maternal feeling within her. They all knew that her body would demand it of her, but they tried to keep her environment and conversation to a minimum about that subject in particular, despite the fact that it was the whole reason why she had been brought her.

In Victor’s experience, keeping the female as much in the dark as possible about her own pregnancy – especially someone like Cassie, who probably never even knew anyone who had given up their baby – except, of course, the slave women who lived on Two Rivers, who were expected to do so routinely – was the better way to go. It was much easier than all of that emotional stuff that happened if they were allowed to think of the being growing within them as their child. The less attachment she felt for these babies, the better. Everyone agreed.

The bigger and more unwieldy she got, the more tired she felt, so she spent a lot of her days napping, when Jurek wasn’t at her. Her breasts – swollen now to more than twice their usual size in her seventh month – ached constantly. Jurek often massaged them for her, although they had become that much more sensitive, too, and as good as that felt, she often begged him not to, because she was ashamed that it also aroused her, and there was no avoiding the way her nipples came to taut points whenever his hand settled on a burgeoning globe.

---