Cuckoo

Part Twelve: Pregnancy

As soon as we were sure that the host was pregnant Vivian and I adjusted Amanda's duties to safeguard the well being of our unborn baby. We eased off a bit on some of the most physically demanding labour and concentrated on more subtle forms of psychological control so that the pain of a spanking less often traumatised her. The application of the strap was suspended completely although I was not foolish enough to inform her of that fact. But there was no sense in risking a miscarriage now we'd come so far. I was even obliged to curtail my sexual usage of the lovely blonde slave, an inconvenience which I found mildly frustrating on occasion, although not even a fraction as frustrating as the girl herself! Since I had to refrain from enjoying the pleasures of her sex I saw no reason why she should benefit from it herself. I lowered her base level of arousal somewhat and I also put a strict cap on the ceiling, a little below the level at which she could achieve an orgasm. For the last six months of her pregnancy Amanda didn't enjoy so much as a single climax, although she continued to feel the urge to masturbate if rather less frequently than before.

Just because I was denying myself access to Amanda's cunt, it didn't mean that I couldn't continue to exploit some of the other features of the girl's anatomy. I didn't consider her arse off limits until she was showing a pronounced bulge and so she was regularly buggered, albeit somewhat more gently than hitherto. The metal slugs which Mrs. Tibbs was planting deep inside her pretty bottom were doing their work well, stretching the girl's muscles and widening her nether passageway so that I was able to enjoy longer and more penetrating excursions into her rectum. I also had the opportunity to continue her training in oral sex. Amanda has a lovely tongue as you've experienced for yourself. I had been savouring her dainty little kisses and delicate licking round my balls for some time now and although she'd more recently learned to ingest my ejaculations I really wanted to be able to deep throat her, so that I'd be sure every last drop was destined for her stomach. This was something the poor girl found difficult to swallow. Her natural instinct was to gag and choke when my member pressed home too far. But her mouth is wide and perfectly constructed to suck a fat cock so I knew that with sufficient tuition her natural instinct could be overcome and I'd be tickling her tonsils with my bell end whether she liked it or not! So little by little, I accustomed her to opening her mouth and throat wider and wider to my cock. And at last I was able to plunge my member up to the hilt in her.

When the oral sex was immediately preceded by anal sex, I know my fastidious blonde maid found it particularly unpleasant to have to use her mouth to clean an organ tainted by the flavours of her own bottom. She did it anyway though. I insisted.

But you may be asking yourself how the girl reacted emotionally to the knowledge of her pregnancy? This, after all, was really the key to the success of the entire project and I must admit I'm proud of the way my wife and I handled it.

So what to say to Amanda to ensure she reacted to the baby she was nurturing in the right way? Well nothing at first; nothing consciously anyway. My wife and I let Amanda deduce her pregnancy by slow degrees; the first missing period, the rush of hormones, the subtle adjustments and slow accommodations her body made as the tiny foetus inside her grew on the rich nourishment provided by her bloodstream and the security of her womb. Unconsciously, our healthy blonde breeder was prepared quite carefully with a revised program of subliminal messages. But this was the easy part. We were working with nature, not against it. Millions of years of evolution had already programmed Amanda for the requirements of successful reproduction - with instincts to cherish and protect any unborn baby inside her more powerful than that of the hapless marsh pipit and with no evolutionary defence against our kind of cuckoo!

Nevertheless… nevertheless there were precedents for rebellion if the psychology of the situation was mishandled. Perhaps even for the disaster of an attempted abortion or worse if she found out what was really going on. That couldn't be permitted. Amanda was left to believe that she was at least half responsible for the baby! It was safer for her to think of herself as the mother - safer and of course a lot more plausible. But what about the father? After all, I'd told her I'd had a vasectomy right at the outset of our relationship and her conditioning had continued to bamboozle her about this ever since so she'd never thought to question if the sperm I was so frequently expelling into her body was 'live' at all. Apart from Dr. Stebbing's own understandable indulgencies at Harley Street when he'd been 'testing' her sexuality, she'd had no other penetrative sex with a man since Carol had broken her relationship with Steve. The timing wasn't right for the doctor to be the father. Not knowing about the Cuckoo implant, the only possible conclusion for Amanda would be that I was responsible. As of course I was, but not in that conventional sense! I had a plan in mind. A slightly risky plan if the truth be told but I could reduce the risk with careful ground work in her conditioning. And if the plan worked it would make the period of the pregnancy a great deal safer and easier to manage.

I waited until Amanda had deduced for herself that she was pregnant. The inner turmoil would force her into a confession to me sooner or later because she knew very well she couldn't hide it from me forever. So when she finally knocked on my study door one bright morning and placed my cup of coffee respectfully on the corner of the desk I eyed her nervous figure like a hawk watching a mouse. I knew what she was about to tell me but I let her sweat. I felt like some stern and shocked Victorian headmaster, about to hear of a teenage pregnancy. And that's how I played my little game…

"P… please master. I think. I mean, I…"

She swallowed convulsively.

"Spit it out Amanda!"

"I think… I'm p… p… pregnant" Her voice faded away at the end into a whispered silence.

"What!"

"I think… I mean I could be…. possibly could be pregnant…"

"Good grief how did that happen!"

She looked like she was going to cry.

"Come here and sit on my lap!"

She obeyed without question, meek as ever. I pushed her dress up and away so that the flat of my hand could spread across her belly. It was still too early for any very noticeable swelling but I thought I could already detect a tightening of the skin. And behind that there was a noticeable fluttering which was probably just the quickening of her own nervous heartbeat but which an overactive imagination might have fancied were the first stirrings of the Killingworth baby.

"Are you sure? No of course you're not! How can you be? It'll be some phantom of your imagination my dear. You've always had an overactive imagination, haven't you? I think some sleeping pills to help you to rest at night and perhaps some harder physical work to tire you out. That might keep you from dreaming up these impossible ideas."

"But it's not a dream! I think I really am. I've missed my. There was no b… blood."

"Really?"

I was cold now, turning from ridicule to a calculated distant anger. Perhaps I missed my vocation when I stopped acting after I left school. Although of course so much of high level business is about acting too.

"Well we shall have to get you tested then. But I don't see how you can be pregnant unless you've found some guttersnipe boy from somewhere unsavoury to give up a tupping. And I don't know how you did that without my knowledge or permission."

"I… didn't. I haven't. O you know I haven't!"

She was crying now, tears streaming down her face and little sobs interrupting her.

"It must be your baby. Yours and mine!"

"Well it can't be Eddie's. I know the doctor gave you some intimate tests on his last visit but he didn't mount you this time did he?"

Amanda bowed her head at my objective but humiliating musings. The doctor hadn't fucked her this time and she knew it. She was far too confused to consider the truth of exactly what he had done inside her womb.

"You're probably not pregnant at all my dear", I said at last. "But lets get the tests done and if I'm wrong we can soon have you cleaned out inside eh? A quick little abortion and you'll be back to work in no time."

She stiffened in my arms and went white.

My aim here was to shock. Of course I didn't want her to have an abortion, quite the opposite! What I did want to do was to manoeuvre her into the right mental state and this was only the first step.

"B… but you can't!"

Already you see, she knew it was my decision. But her buy in was what I wanted. And her fear - her fear of the alternative…

"Of course I can. It'll be quick painless and cheap. Now come on Amanda darling, be serious for a minute can't you? How can you possibly keep a baby in your condition? You'd be a single mum and you don't earn nearly enough money to raise a kid. And what about your work? I don't see how you can do a proper job of being a housemaid here in the manor house if you're worrying about dropping a sprog. And you know this job is your last chance don't you? You've made such a mess of all your previous chances. I'm really disappointed in you Amanda!"

I didn't want Amanda to do anything drastic. I just wanted to steer her in the right direction. That involved some more subliminal messages to give her the right ideas. A home pregnancy testing kit confirmed to her (and apparently to me) what I'd known all along and left Amanda desperate. Next day she came to me with 'her' suggestion. It was a rather frantic plea on the face of it but I certainly enjoyed watching her beg. I pursed my lips and looked stern.

"You are asking a great deal here Amanda, you know that don't you? A very great deal… Lets run though it again. You want to bring this baby to term and then you're suggesting that my wife and I adopt it! That we take the baby off your hands and raise it as our own? It's a piece of breathtaking cheek I must say!"

"B… but the baby's yours master - yours and mine!" she answered miserably.

"So you keep saying but it doesn't make it true."

"I don't want to have an abortion!"

I strung her along for a bit longer but then pretended to relent.

"Hmmm…. I shall have to talk to my wife. I'm not promising anything - not promising anything at all, but we'll talk it over."

"Oh thank you master! Thank you!"

The plan had worked perfectly! Because she thought it would ensure her baby's survival Amanda had begged me to take the child away. The silly bitch had begged me to do the very thing I intended to do all along!

I made Amanda wait for a week before I put her out of her misery and gave her the good news. She would be allowed to give birth to the baby but after that, my wife and I agreed to take full responsibility for its upbringing. It would be our child, not hers.

"It's for the best, isn't it Amanda?" I said. "There are too many single mothers in the world. You simply couldn't cope with a child in your line of work."

The subliminals had made that point quite forcibly and she believed everything they said, so my acceptance of her suggestion seemed like an immense favour instead of the cunning manipulation it really was. She couldn't even contemplate anything as radical as leaving of course! Dr. Stebbings' technique really is a marvel.

"Oh thank you master, thank you!"

My desperate blonde slave was pathetically grateful.

"Perhaps you can demonstrate your appreciation."

I unzipped my trousers and Amanda dropped to her knees. She knew what to do and she did it very well! Over the next fifteen minutes I was treated to the best oral sex I had ever enjoyed from my pretty blonde pet. She has a mouth that seems made for ministering to a cock as I've just said and as I'm sure you'll agree from recent personal experience eh? It's wide and sweet with appealing moist lips and a teasing tongue, but as I think I've also said before she had a natural aversion to putting it to its proper use when I first took her on, and it had taken some effort to train her. But now, for the first time she was overwhelmed with relief which translated into enthusiasm and gratitude. Her kissing and licking was divine and in fact this was the first memorable occasion when I achieved full deep throated penetration, her wide adoring eyes touched by a tiny prickle of tears in the corner as I discharged a healthy dose of spunk right down her oesophagus.

It had been a rather dangerous business in some ways but the result was worth it. Because she believed that the baby's life had been in real jeopardy I knew Amanda would now strive extra hard to keep it. And I retained a shadowy and sinister ultimate sanction to replace the threat of the cane I could no longer use. Of course, I'd never put her through an abortion but she didn't know that. So much of the game of power is about bluffing! And I'd bluffed Amanda into a new kind of devoted love slavery to protect the very thing I wished her to protect. It was all so psychologically exquisite.

Once the maid's uniform became too tight for her gravid belly and swelling breasts I had Amanda go naked round the house, save only for a leather collar and a pair of stiletto heels. The collar was just a little touch to amuse me and remind me of her real role as breeding livestock. The shoes improved her posture, helping to keep the curves of her bottom and belly in balance. I insisted on them although I knew that with the extra weight she was now carrying and with the swollen ankles which were a symptom of her pregnancy, they were very uncomfortable for the poor girl.

Amanda quickly became accustomed to working unclothed, although she occasionally seemed to feel a heightened awareness of the shame of it and would blush a fetching shade of pink all over. Naked like this, my wife and I were able to stroke the smooth curves of her bare stomach and sense the rapidly developing life inside. Young James was a hearty baby and he put on a lot of weight in Amanda's tummy. From time to time there was the thrill of seeing a little kick inside as he demonstrated the first significant signs of independent action, making his surrogate mother wince.

This was the period when Vivian really appreciated the benefits of our scheme. She suffered from none of the symptoms afflicting Amanda - the morning sickness, the food cravings, the mood swings and the simple handicap of a bulky body to take care of. Vivian continued to enjoy her social life, albeit a less public one. She could dress elegantly, drink alcohol with a clear conscience and look forward to all the benefits of the birth with none of the physical and emotional distress - Amanda would be taking care of all the messy business!

As a consequence Vivian mellowed a little, her attitude to Amanda becoming quite indulgent now that the time of her triumph over the hapless young woman was drawing so close. She was patronising now, without the cruelty, sometimes sitting the naked blonde on her knee and stroking her thighs, breasts and belly almost tenderly whilst crooning libidinous and crude words into her ear which made the pregnant woman squirm and blush. I was reminded of the way an old fashioned farmer might handle a favourite cow. It was affectionate but ultimately distant and mercenary. Usually she concluded with a light swat to Amanda's bare arse to send her waddling back to her duties - little more than a pat on the bottom compared with the spankings, strappings and canings she'd been subjected to during her acquisition and training but it reminded her very simply of her status.

If Amanda had managed to achieve a temporary truce with my wife, Kirsty wasn't so lucky! Vivian returned from a trip to London one day with a very smug smile and a collection of interesting photographs to share. It seems she'd made an appointment with Dr. Stebbings with the express request of having a 'heart to heart' with his submissive little nurse. The doctor was only too happy to oblige and my wife explained how she'd quickly made it plain to Kirsty exactly what she thought of 'cock teasing sluts who get their hands on my husband's private organ'. The innocent blonde, who'd only done as she was told in serving me, was then bent over my wife's lap with the good doctor's help and given a very sound thrashing indeed! The photographs of Kirsty's bright red bottom and sobbing face had apparently been taken by Helen and they were quite provoking.

"Well it certainly seems like you taught her a lesson, my dear", I commented with apparent approval. Secretly I was wondering if I might find the opportunity for some fun with Kirsty again. I'd enjoyed myself last time and she really looked very fetching in the photographs. It would add an interesting spice to a future liaison if Kirsty was kept well aware of the risks of my wife finding out, but of course, conditioned as she was she'd be unable to refuse me. I saw a chance to recreate the interesting state of mind Amanda had been put through when she'd thought our 'affair' was a secret from my wife. Only this time, it would be a real secret and Kirsty would know for certain how bad the consequences of discovery could be!

Patricia Stebbings had agreed to act as our gynaecologist. Obviously we needed someone we could trust with the unusual nature of the pregnancy. She brought portable scanning equipment on her periodic visits and was able to confirm that James was developing into a normal healthy baby by taking the usual samples. If there'd been any question of handicap or genetic disorder my wife and I had decided we'd terminate the pregnancy and start Amanda off with a fresh implant but fortunately that wasn't necessary.

"The child is putting on lots of weight in the womb", she told us. "It might be a difficult birth."

I shrugged. "You know the priorities."

Patricia answered with a nasty smile. That was the most important reason for employing a gynaecologist who understood the requirements of the labour to come. There must be no question of doing anything that might jeopardise the welfare of the baby - that was paramount at all times. But where medical ethics might conventionally dictate consideration for the mother that wouldn't be necessary in this case. Patricia could take whatever risks she wanted to with Amanda's health and well being, so long as the baby came through the birth unscathed.

When the time came it did prove to be a long and difficult labour, but ultimately a very successful one! Our son James was born on 6th July at 2 o'clock in the morning - healthy, kicking and squalling!