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Message-ID: <55839asstr$1178849401@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Guy Nickologist <menstrualclinic@aim.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Breeding Farm (M, F, Pregnancy, Childbirth, Slavery)
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Date: Thu, 10 May 2007 22:10:01 -0400
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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	This is a work of erotic fiction.  It involves a white slavery ring in an 
undisclosed eastern European country that allows men from the west to fly in 
and use the women as baby machines.  It involves sexual slavery, menstruation, 
pregnancy, childbirth, and mild violence.



Part I

	Ian McAlester's private jet nimbly touched down at the small
airport.  He looked out the window at the dilapidated buildings.  The flight
from Toronto had taken 13 hours which included refueling stops in Iceland
and Belgium.  Officially he was in an undisclosed eastern European country
to meet with members of the regional mafia to whom he was selling his newest
line of MX-A7J private jets, similar to the one that brought him from his
native Canada.  The real reason required discretion.  He still chuckled at
the thought that meeting with murderers and thugs was more palatable than
having a baby.
	A swarthy looking man in a cheap rumbled suit greeted him on the
tarmac.  A uniformed police officer stood to the side under the "No
Smoking" sign puffing away on confiscated contraband cigarettes.  The officer had
already been bribed allowing Ian to walk directly to the limousine.  He and
the swarthy looking man got in.  They sped away.
	Ian stretched and loosened his necktie.  He looked at his watch.
	"What time is it here?"
	The man looked at a pocket watch and announced, "10:37.  Obviously
it's day."
	"Yes, I can see that.  What time is my appointment?"
	"Eleven."
	"Christ we'll never make it."
	"This isn't America."
	"I'm fucking Canadian."
	The man made a mocking gesture.  "We don't allow ourselves to be
slaves to time.  My watch probably isn't even right anyway."
	"They're expecting me there at eleven."
	The man smiled and pulled out a cigarette.  "And you assume they'll
be there at eleven?"
	"They better fucking well be!  I flew ten thousand kilometers and
put out that damn cigarette."
	The man froze, then crushed out the lit end with freshly licked
fingertips and put the cigarette back in his pocket.
	At 11:33 the limo rolled up to a gate.  Two men, kids really,
wearing blue jeans, Reeboks, t-shirts, and AK-47s stood.  One approached the
car.  He recognized the driver and ordered the other to open the gate.  The
limo rolled over the pitted dirt path and parked in front of a farm house.
The farm house made the airport look pristine.
	The two men walked in.  A fat woman with a large mole on her
forehead looked up at them.  Ian was repulsed by the woman.  She chatted
with the other man who instructed Ian into a small room to the right.
	"I leave you here my Canadian friend.  Have fun.", he said with a
wink.
	"I hope the women here are better looking than Broom Hilda back
there?"
	The man didn't understand the cultural reference but of course knew
she was ugly.  "No, only pretty girls.  Pretty, pretty girls."
	The ugly woman picked up the phone, dialed three numbers, chatted in
whatever hell language they spoke around here, then hung up.  About ten
seconds later a small, balding man with wire-rimmed glasses walked through
one of the doors.
	"Mr. McAlester!  Welcome.  How was your trip?"
	Ian eyed the man.  "Long."
	"Good, good", he said as if he hadn't paid attention to the
response.  "Come into my office."
	Ian followed the man into a small, cramped, smelly office.  The man
spoke first.
	"We have spoken on the phone.  I'm the director, Boris Yermansk."
Boris took a sip from his coffee.  "Do you know how it works here?"
	"I didn't fucking fly halfway across the globe because I didn't
know."
	"Just so we have complete understanding, let me explain."
	"What's to know?  I pick a girl, fuck her, come back nine months
later and pick up my son."
	Boris laughed.  "Well, it is up to you to determine the gender, but let
me tell you our costs and policies."
	"The base price is 100,000 euros.  This allows you to breed one of
our women, covers prenatal costs, the birth, and you get to take the baby
home.  But you say you want a son."
	"I want an heir to my company.  It's the largest privately held
aircraft manufacturer in the world.  I want a man like me running it once
I'm gone."
	"Sex selection is 35,000 euros.  If it's a girl you're only out the
35,000 euros, you don't have to take the baby or pay the 100,000 fee."
	"Okay, so I pay you 135,000 euros."
	"We have more to offer."
	"Like what?"
	"For a mere 25,000 euros you can have unlimited access to the woman
for a full year."
	"What the fuck does that mean?"
	"Ordinarily you only see her during the breeding.  But for the added
fee you can visit her everyday.  And it's for a full year.  After the birth
you can continue to play with her.  Drink her milk.  Whatever you want."
	"Cheaper than the hookers I use.  Go ahead."
	"Good.  Good.  I also suggest insurance for 32,000 euros."
	"Insurance against what?"
	"Miscarriage.  Stillbirth.  Freak accidents.  Anything that prevents
us supplying you with a healthy baby."
	"Yeah, I'll take that.  When do I get to pick her out?"
	"In time, in time.  First we need to perform a couple of tests.
First we need to test you for disease."
	"I sent you my medical file from home."
	"I know, but it's precautionary.  We check again.  We also need to
check sperm motility.  No point in doing this if you can't do your part."
	"You want me to beat off into a cup?"
	The director grinned.  "For a mere 250 euros a nurse can assist."
	Ian grinned back.  "Do it."
	After a quick phone call, a nurse arrived in the director's office.
She was somewhat pretty, but didn't look happy.  She led Ian into a small
room.  She quickly drew the blood sample.  She motioned Ian to stand.  She
didn't seem to speak English.  She reached around Ian's waist and unfastened
his belt and slacks.  She slid them down where they settled on his ankles.
She lightly coated her fingers with lubricant and started rubbing Ian's
dick.  It wasn't bad.  He reached his hand around and grabbed her ass.  With
her free hand she pushed his hand away.  After several minutes she held a
small cup and soon after Ian had provided his sample.  The nurse capped the
cup and wiped her hands.  She used a warm washcloth to clean Ian.  She then
washed her hands, grabbed the blood and sperm specimens, and quickly exited
the room.
	"Don't I even get a kiss?", he shouted out to her.
	About 20 minutes later Ian was back in the director's office.  Boris
was slurping a very disgusting looking soup.  He wiped his mouth on his lab
coat sleeve and looked up at Ian.
	"Your blood work came back clean and your sperm are regular Olympic
swimmers.  So we're good."
	"I can't wait."
	"Right now we have 18 girls."
	"Girls?"
	Boris adjusted his glasses.  "The age of consent in this country is
14.  It's not uncommon for girls that age to have sex.  However we have
found girls should be at least 18, even 20 to produce healthy babies.  The
youngest girl we have now is 19."
	"Not that I care."
	"We have 18 girls right now.  You'll pick one.  We'll determine when
she'll be fertile.  Some could be fertile now, others almost a month away.
You know how that works, right?"
	"I do."
	"These are all girls who haven't had sex since their last period.
In fact none have had sex since they arrived here.  Pick one and we'll get
her to you."
	The two walked out of the room and walked towards the cages.


Part II
	Tara was awaken by Olga, the cell keeper.  Actually she didn't know
if her name was Olga.  She just looked like an Olga.  Ugly.  Slavic.
Hateful.  It was shower time.
	Tara lived in a cramped, cold cell.  She could only see into the
cell directly across from hers.  It was unoccupied.  She had figured out
young women from across Europe lived in these cells.  Many didn't understand
English.
	Inside the cells were only a small, filthy cot and a combination
toilet and sink, similar to those used in prisons.  Tara, like all of the
women, were completely naked.  They didn't even have a sheet to cover
themselves at night.
	Tara didn't know where she was or what language Olga spoke.  But she
learned the word for "shower".  All of the cell doors opened at once.  Tara
grabbed her stained mattress and roll of rough toilet paper as did the other
17 women.  They were putting the two items from their cells that couldn't
get wet into a small room.
	She walked behind a blonde who was probably Swedish or Norwegian or
something.  She was crying.  Tara saw the poor woman was having her period.
Blood was smeared on her upper thighs.  They were not provided any hygiene
products.  They were little more than caged animals.  After the showers the
women would fight and claw one another trying to get the cleanest mattress
available.  It wasn't hard to imagine how filthy the bedding had become.
	Tara grabbed a washcloth and a small bottle of combination shampoo
and body wash.  She went back into her cell and closed the door.  She heard
it lock.
	Once all of the women were back in their cells Olga grabbed the
hose.  One by one she sprayed icy water into each cell.  The cold water was
sheer torture.  Tara took a deep breath and let the icy water strike her.
She immediately shivered.  She lathered up her hair and washed her body.
It'd been weeks since her last shower and she felt disgusting.  Olga came
back with the hose and rinsed all of the women off.
	Tara sat in the corner of her cell curled up into a ball shivering.
Olga walked by and shoved two towels through the bars.  She reached over and
grabbed them.  She dried herself off with one, then wrapped it around her
body.  She dried her hair with the second.  She was still shivering, but at
least wasn't quite as wet.
	A shower could mean only one thing.  A customer was visiting.  Tara
wasn't sure what was happening.  A man would visit, look at the women, pick
one, then leave.  Olga would take the woman he picked and leave with her.
That woman would never be seen again.  She assumed they were being sold like
cattle.  While the thought of being sold to someone was repulsive, she
couldn't imagine it being worse than being locked up naked in a cage.  Also
once on the outside she'd have a chance at escape.
	The women were told absolutely no talking or eye contact with the
men.  When Tara was still new she heard a woman start shouting at a man.
They spent the rest of the day standing in the small hall watching the
offender being tortured.
	Olga opened Tara's cage and led her to the end of the hall.  She
took her towels away and dried her long, beautiful red hair with a hair
dryer.  Tara relished the warmth.  Olga brushed her hair and led her back
into her cage.
	The women were allowed to collect their mattresses and toilet paper
again.  She shoved the menstruating Swede away and took the cleaner
mattress.  Tara had never been an aggressive person despite her Irish roots.
But it was survival of the fittest here.
	The customer arrived.  All of the women stood against their cell
doors with eyes cast downward.  As the man walked by, Tara stole a glance.
He was trim and reasonably attractive.  His hair was turning silver.  He
walked about and chatted with the director in English.  She guessed him to
be Canadian.  She used to spend summers at her aunt's house in Nova Scotia
and knew the difference between American and Canadian English.
	The man and director returned to Tara's cage.
	"Would you like to check her out?"
	"Yes", said the customer.
	The director opened the door and let the customer in.  He ran his
hands along Tara's shoulders and rubbed her breasts in a downward motion.  He
asked her to spin around slowly.  He held her and rubbed her ass.  He let go
then grabbed her crotch hard.
	"You think a baby will fit through this tight thing?" the customer
said to the director.
	The director smiled.  "Girl's bodies are amazing things."
	The customer looked at her.
	"I'll take her."
	"Are you sure this is the one you want?  We have others."
	"I want her.  I love her hair."
	"Okay."
	The two exited the cell and Boris closed it.  He shouted some orders
to Olga.
	Olga grabbed Tara by her hair and pulled her to a door at the
opposite end of the hall where the customer exited.  She was shouting at
Tara in her strange language.  She led Tara down a hall.  Olga opened the
door and continued to force Tara to walk.  This hall wasn't disgusting like
the cages.  It looked like a nice hotel.  They came to another door.  Olga
unlocked it, shoved Tara in, then locked it.
	Tara looked around.  It looked like a plush hotel room.  Despite the
comfort she was scared shitless.  She knew she was going to be raped.  It
was a given.  Tara was a virgin.  A 23 year-old virgin.  She had been raised
in a strict Irish Catholic home in the west of the country.
	She heard the door unlock.  She looked up.  It was the director.  He
was alone.  He walked over to Tara, grabbed her left breast with his right
and and twisted hard.
	"The man you are about meet is named Ian.  He has paid a lot of
money to be here.  If I hear one complaint about you I will inflict so much
pain on your breasts and cunt this will feel like a sweet memory."
	He twisted harder.  Tara whimpered.
	"Do you understand?"
	"Yes", Tara squeaked.
	The director let go.  "He'll be with you shortly."


Part III
	Ian instantly fell in love with Tara.  Well, love wasn't the word.
He had always had a thing for redheads.  Why shouldn't the mother of his son
have red hair?
	They returned to the director's office.  He pulled out Tara's chart.
	"Her name is Tara.  Her surname isn't important.  She's from
Ireland.  Her last period started 11 days ago meaning she's moving right
into peak ovulation.  You timed this right.  We'll go ahead and let you have
her for the next week.  If she misses her next period we'll perform a
pregnancy test and inform you."
	"And if she doesn't miss?"
	"You can come back next month and we extend your benefits by the same amount."
	"Take me to her."
	Boris led Ian into another part of the building.  This was significantly 
nicer, almost like a five-star hotel.  Boris entered a code into a panel by 
the door.
	"The door always locks.  It's to prevent her from escaping.  You'll need to 
enter the code coming and going.  It's 5-6-2-2."
	"The last four digits of my cell phone number?"
	"We try to make things easy for our clients."
	The pair entered the room.  Ian immediately spotted Tara.  She was sitting in 
a large chair holding a pillow from the bed against her naked body covering 
her private parts.  Ian offered his hand to Boris.
	"It's been a pleasure doing business with you.  I'll take it from here."
	"Very good."  Boris turned and smiled at Tara.  "Enjoy."  He briskly walked 
out of the room.
	Ian looked at Tara.  She wasn't making eye contact.  She looked very sad.
	"Hello, I'm Ian."
	She sat silently.
	Ian paused, then spoke.  "You know, I'm not a bad guy.  I think you'll enjoy 
this experience."
	She looked at him.  It was a blank, emotionless stare.  She sighed and sunk 
her chin back into the pillow.
	"Are you hungry?"
	No answer.
	"I'll have some food sent up, then I'm going to take a shower.  Anything 
you'd like?"
	Still no answer.
	"Suit yourself."
	Ian called and ordered a vegetarian pizza.  He never smoked, drank, used 
drugs, or ate meat.  He did however sleep with anything with ovaries.
	The staff had unpacked his suitcase and hung up his clothes before Tara 
arrived.  He stripped, out of sight of Tara, grabbed a bath robe then hit the 
shower.  He took a quick one.  He shaved and brushed his teeth, then came back 
into the room.  Tara hadn't moved.  He pulled the covers of the bed down.
	"Come over here."
	Tara looked at the bed, but didn't move.  She turned her eyes back to the 
pillow.  Ian slipped out of the bath robe, revealing his naked body and tossed 
it on the foot of the bed.  He walked over and stood in front of Tara.  He 
didn't speak.  She finally looked up at him.
	"I said I'm a nice guy and I am.  But I don't have a whole lot time.  We can 
do this the easy way, or we can do it the hard way.  It's your choice."
	"Please leave me alone."  Tara sunk her chin back into her pillow.
	Ian rested his hands on either side of Tara's head, on the sides of the 
chair, and bent over.  He got into her face.  "Get your naked body into that 
bed.  I can have Boris come in and tie you spread eagle to the bed for the 
next week."
	Tara huffed, jumped up knocking Ian's arms out of the way and lied down on 
the bed.  She was lying on her back, the pillow still covering her breasts and 
pubic area.
	Ian lied down next to her.  He took the pillow off of her and set it on the 
other side of her.
	"Can we just get this over with?"
	"Get what over with?"
	"My rape?"
	"I'm not going to rape you."
	"What in the bloody hell do you have planned then?"
	"I'm going to make love to the mother of my child."
	She looked at him.  "What are you talking about?"
	Ian laughed.  "My dear Tara, you're not in a whorehouse, you're in a breeding 
farm."
	He voice squeaked a quick "What?"
	"You're going to have my baby.  My son."
	"I can't have a baby!"
	Ian reached his hand to her crotch.  "You have one of these, you can have a 
baby."
	Tara sat up to put distance between Ian's hand and her vulva.  She looked him 
in the eye.
	"I am not having a baby."
	Ian shook the heavy headboard.  "You know, being tied up to this wouldn't be 
very comfortable.  You cannot avoid this.  Why not just... enjoy it?"
	"You're disgusting!"
	Ian shrugged.  Tara lied back down.  Ian kissed her cheek and neck while he 
stroked her breasts.  Tara closed her eyes.  Ian moved his hand and massaged 
her vulva.  He gently tugged at her lips, then started stroking her clitoris.


Part IV
	Tara could not believe what was happening.  She thought a man would come into 
the room, rape her, then leave.  But he was here to impregnate her?  She would 
carry this vile man's baby for nine months?  She thought back to her young 
adult classes at church.  She was a firm opponent of artificial birth control 
and had learned about the natural rhythm method.  She was very likely to get 
pregnant.
	She closed her eyes in an attempt to shut out the horror that was engulfing 
her.  She had heard the expression "Lie back and think of England."  She hated 
the English almost as much as the hated this man pawing her.  England wasn't 
helping.
	Tara wasn't really sure what to do.  She knew he'd be sticking his penis into 
her.  Did she need to prepare?  Well, too late.  Ian was now on top of her. 
She could feel pressure against her vaginal opening.  Ian reached down and 
adjusted it.  She felt it enter her.  It hurt.  It hurt a lot.  His penis was 
was tugging on the walls of her vagina.  Was this normal?  Why did people 
enjoy sex?
	Ian entered into a rhythm.  His thrusts became less and less painful.  His 
penis began to feel like it was gliding inside of her.  His body stiffened. 
She felt a pulsing sensation.  His body went limp.  He rolled over into his 
side, bringing her with him as he was still inside of her.  He kissed her.
	"That was good."
	There was a knock at the door.
	Ian yelled, "Come in!"
	A woman came in with a cart.  On the cart was their food.  Tara had gotten 
used to being naked, but didn't like the idea of someone in the room right 
after having sex.  Having sex?  Being raped.  The woman left.  Ian got up.
	"Are you sure you don't want to eat?"
	Tara shook her head.
	Ian walked back to the bed.  "Suck my dick!"
	Tara looked at him horrified.  Ian grabbed the back of her head and pulled 
her toward him.  Her nose bumped on his public bone.
	"Suck!", he barked.
	Tara swallowed, then slowly opened her mouth.  She allowed the head of his 
mostly limp dick into her mouth.  He pushed his way in more.  Oh, the taste. 
It was very musky.  Very salty.  His penis grew inside her mouth.
	"Move your tongue around."
	She did as she was told.  The taste made her gag.  She opened her mouth wide 
with an enormous gag.  She pulled back away from him covering her now closed 
mouth.  She felt like she was going to puke.
	"We'll work on that.  Now let's eat some pizza."
	Tara walked over and took a piece.  She could feel ooze running out of her 
vagina.  She took it back to the bed and nibbled on it.  Ian was already on 
his second slice.
	"You've never had sex before, have you?"
	Tara looked up.  "I'm a virgin.  Was... a virgin."
	"You'll get better at it as you do it more."
	Tara couldn't believe the vulgarity of that comment.  But she just nibbled on 
her pizza.
	Ian ended up eating four slices.  Tara didn't finish one.  Ian suggested they 
take a nap.  He had been up for more than 24 hours.  Tara had no concept of 
time since she never saw a window or a clock, but she had been up a long time 
also.  Ian held her as they dosed off.  Tara didn't like him touching her, but 
didn't fight him or argue.  She just lied there with his hand on her breasts. 
  She thought of nothing in particular, just resigning herself to her fate. 
She finally dozed off.
	The flushing toilet woke Tara.  She rolled onto her back.  At first she 
didn't know where she was.  She saw a naked man walk towards the bed.  Oh 
yeah.  She sat up and started to the bathroom herself.  Ian stopped her, 
hugged her, and kissed her.  She tolerated it.  He continued.
	"I have to pee."
	"You don't have to be such a colossal bitch to me."
	She couldn't believe he was serious.
	"Look, I know you're here involuntarily.  But I'll treat you well.  Very 
well.  If you cooperate."
	Tara sighed.  Ian let go.  She walked briskly to the bathroom.  She sat and 
peed.  She wiped and noticed she was a little tender down there.  She flushed, 
washed her hands, and returned to the bed.  Ian moved his body so his head was 
near her crotch.  He immediately started licked her cunt.
	Tara didn't know what to make of this.  He seemed to enjoy it.  Was it 
nothing like having a penis on your mouth.  As disgusting as it seemed to her, 
she did sort of like it.  It felt good.  But still...
	Some time passed.  Ian stopped with his tongue and moved his body up on top 
of hers.  "It's just not going to happen is it?"
	"What?"
	Ian laughed.  "You're so cute."
	Tara huffed.
	Ian slid his dick into her.  It went right in.  He quickly entered his rhythm 
and it lasted significantly longer than it had earlier.
	Tara started to sit up.
	"Lie back down.  In fact let me put this pillow under your butt."
	"Why?"
	"I don't want my baby batter leaking out of you."
	Tara secretly tried tightening her vaginal muscles hoping to squeeze his 
semen out of her.  But of course that was impossible.
	Ian had sex with her one more time before they slept for the night.  Over the 
next five days he had sex with her 12, 10, 12, 11, and 12 times.
	The nuns never mentioned sex being pleasurable.  It was a duty.  She couldn't 
admit it to herself, but she liked it when he performed oral sex on her. 
Something happened their third day having sex.  She didn't know that as a 
woman she craved a man during her ovulation cycle.  It was nature's way of 
assuring the propagation of the species.  That morning when he was licking 
her, she experienced an orgasm.  It was her first and would be the last one of 
the week.
	Tara was awaken by sharp pain in her nipple.  She woke up and noticed Ian was 
chewing on it.
	"Good morning sleepy head."
	Tara had no idea what time it was, but she sensed it was early.
	"I just talked to my pilot.  We have to have wheels up no later than noon." 
He playfully slapped the side of her ass as he said, "Now I'm sure you're 
already pregnant, but I thought we should do it a couple of more times.  Also 
I'd like to get you to swallow."
	Ian had insisted on her performing oral sex on him.  She was able to suppress 
the gag reflex and figured out how to move her tongue around in a way he 
liked.  But he wanted to orgasm in her mouth.  They had vaginal sex two more 
times.  He then insisted on oral.  She sucked him.  He exploded into her 
mouth.  It felt like it went up into her sinuses like the way sea water can. 
She pulled her mouth away and coughed and gagged.  But she swallowed.
	Ian took a shower, got dressed, kissed her, then left.


Part V
	Ian's cell phone rang.
	"This is Ian."
	"Good afternoon, this is Boris."
	Ian looked at his watch.
	"It's 7:23 AM here."
	"Of course, of course, time zones.  What a frightful invention."
	"What's going on?"
	"You did it!  Tara is pregnant."
	"Of course she is."  Ian never doubted it.
	"Would you like to see her?"
	Ian looked at the calendar on his computer screen.
	"Yeah, I can fly out Thursday afternoon.  That'll be me there Friday 
afternoon.  I'll have to check with my pilot though, international flight 
planning is a bitch these days."
	"Whenever you can come you're welcome.  She's all yours."
	"Is it a boy?"
	"Too early to tell."
	"But you can tell before it's born, right?"
	"We have an ultrasound machine, but it's not always accurate."
	"Sure, okay.  Listen, I have to go.  I'll call you with my final plans."
	"Congratulations, Mr. McAlester."
	"Yeah, thanks."


Part VI
	After Ian left they moved Tara to a different holding cell.  This one was a 
little larger and the mattress a little thicker.  But still no sheets.  She 
was allowed out of her cell for a couple of hours a day along with the other 
women.  There was a shower head at the end of the hall.  She could shower 
whenever she wanted.
	She immediately recognized many of the women, all in various states of 
pregnancy.  She didn't recognize the very pregnant women.  They had probably 
been impregnated before she arrived.  Only the Dutch woman spoke English and 
she didn't know the language very well.  Two German women were very chatty and 
almost seemed happy to be there.
	None of the women had any clocks, watches, or calendars.  But based on her 
sleep cycles she figured it had been about three weeks since Ian left.  She 
kept wiping herself throughout the day.  No blood.  No period.  She was late.
	Boris came in one day while she was sitting on the lunch table.  He 
instructed her to pee into a small stick.  He wanted her to pee right there on 
the floor in front of the other women who were eating.  She did.  He looked at 
the stick then stuck it into her lab coat.  He instructed her to sit on the 
table and spread her legs.  She did.  He pulled large metal speculum out of 
her pocket and inserted it into her vagina.  It hurt like hell.  It was too 
big and not lubed.  He shined a flashlight inside her, grunted, then pulled 
out a digital camera and took several pictures.  He removed the speculum, put 
it back in his pocket and walked off.
	Tara got off the table and sat at her place.  She pushed her food away, put 
her head down, and cried.  The Dutch woman walked over and put her arm around 
her.  She could feel the Dutch woman's breast against her side, but didn't 
care.  One of the German women started yelling and pulled the Dutch woman off 
of her.  They exchanged words.  Tara had no idea if they understood each 
other.  The Dutch woman slapped the German.  The second German woman walked up 
behind the Dutch woman and held her arms behind her.  The first German woman 
started slapping and punching the Dutch woman's breasts.  She let out a series 
of screams.  Tara didn't know what to do.
	"Let her go you fucking Nazis!"
	Both German women stopped and turned their gaze to Tara.  The word "Nazi" was 
pretty universal and Germans didn't like hearing it.  The Dutch woman squirmed 
away and ran crying back into her cell holding her breasts.  The first German 
woman, the one who had punched the Dutch woman, grabbed Tara's breast and 
twisted it hard.  She grabbed the woman's free hand and bit it hard.
	"Bitch!" the German woman yelled and took a swing at Tara.  But she had to 
release her breast to do that and Tara stumbled backwards.  Before the fight 
could escalate further Boris walked in.
	"Sylvia!"
	The first German woman cast her eyes to the floor and followed Boris out of 
the room.  Her departure was unrelated to the fight.  Now outnumbered the 
second German woman retired to her cell.  The Italian, Norwegian, and Romanian 
women continued their lunches.  The Norwegian showered before returning to her 
cell.  Tara lied on her mattress and sobbed.
	Several days later Tara was showering when Boris walked in.
	"Tara!"
	She quickly rinsed off, grabbed a towel and ran to Boris.  The women were 
instructed to follow all instructions immediately, without question, and 
without incident.  She worried she would be punished for time she took to 
rinse off and grab a towel.
	"Dry off."
	Tara quickly dried off.  She acted like she didn't know what to do with her 
towels.
	"Just drop them."
	Tara did as she was told and followed Boris.  He led her to the same room 
where she first encountered Ian.  Ian was in the room opening a bottle of 
champagne.
	"Ah, there she is!" he shouted as the cork popped.  He filled two glasses. 
"Take one and toast to us."  Tara just stared at him.  "Don't worry, it's 
alcohol-free.  I don't drink and you shouldn't be drinking either."
	Boris sensed the awkwardness and excused himself.
	"Come on, take a glass."
	Tara just stood there.  Her hair was still soaking wet.
	"Suit yourself."  Ian chugged the glass and set it down along with Tara's 
still full glass.  He walked over and hugged her.  She didn't hug back.
	"How's pregnancy suiting you?"
	Tara knew she was pregnant even though no one had told her.  The news was 
like a slap across the face.
	"How's our son?"
	She looked Ian in the face and mustered all the courage she could find.  "I 
have always believed in the deepest depths of my heart that every life is 
God-given and precious.  But I want this... this thing growing in me to die. 
I hate it!"
	Ian pulled back his right arm and backhanded Tara's right breast.  His large 
signet ring hit her hard.  She yelped and held her breast.  She could already 
feel a lump forming.  Ian pulled back his hand again.  Tara cowered expecting 
a slap across the face, but it didn't come.  He instead pointed his index 
finger into her face.
	"That 'thing' as you call it is our son.  You will love him.  You will 
nurture him.  You will welcome the pain of labor and birth to bring our son 
into the world."
	Tara wanted to tell him to fuck off.  But her right breast was throbbing and 
almost felt numb.  She had stayed in her cell since the Germans ganged up on 
her, but she saw fights were common.  The Italian slapped the shit out of the 
other German woman.  The first was still gone.
	"Why are you here?  You've already infected me with your seed."
	Ian shook his head and punched her in the right breast.  She fell to the bed.
	"It's that sort of attitude that is going to change.  We made love to produce 
our son."
	Tara covered her right breast with her left hand and covered her eyes with 
her right arm and sobbed.
	Ian drank her champagne.
	"I'm taking a shower.  My sweet Tara better be back when I get out."


Part VII
	Ian let the warm water glide over him.  It felt good.  He was a pissy mood 
and Tara wasn't helping it.  When he landed in Belgium the authorities took 
him into custody for seven hours.  Apparently some of his planes were used as 
CIA "torture taxis" and a human rights group had filed charges against him in 
Belgium.  It was bullshit.  He had no control what the Americans did with his 
planes.  No one arrested executives from Boeing because their planes were used 
in 9/11.  The delay screwed up his flight plan causing him to have to stay 
overnight in Antwerp.  He instructed his pilot never again to land in that 
damn country.  He'd have to add an hour to the flight by passing through 
Denmark instead.
	What was the deal with Tara?  Women were supposed to be glowing and proud of 
their pregnancies.  Was she going to be this big of a pain in the ass for the 
next nine months?  Jesus Fucking H. Christ!
	Ian shut off the water and grabbed a towel.  All of the other towels tumbled 
to the floor.  "Fucking Christ!"  He kicked them aside.  They were the bitch's 
towels, she'd have to deal with them.
	Ian walked back into the room wearing a towel.  Tara was still lying on the 
bed, but had gotten under the covers.  He sat down next to her.  He lifted her 
hand from her right breast.  It was swollen and a nice bruise had formed.  He 
let go of her hand and she just let it drop.
	"Look, I'm sorry I hurt you."
	Tara didn't say anything.
	"You have to understand that having a son is a very emotional issue for me. 
I want this child whether you want him or not."
	Tara still didn't say anything.
	"If you cooperate with me this can be a very wonderful experience for you. 
If you don't, it will be the most excruciating nine months of your life.  I 
don't want to hurt you.  What's it going to be?"
	Tara lifted her right arm and looked at Ian.  God how she hated this man. 
But he was right.  While he couldn't make her love the baby inside her, she 
could fake it at least.  It might save her life.
	"I'm sorry I said I wanted your baby dead."
	"Our baby."
	"Yes, our baby.  I'm sorry I said I wanted our baby dead.  I love this child 
inside of me.  His life is precious."
	Ian straddled Tara and looked her in the eye.
	"You're lying."
	"I'm not, I swear!"
	Ian knew he was playing a game.  Of course she would never truly love this 
child.  From her perspective this child was conceived from rape and she was 
having to face her rapist again and again.
	"Suck my cock!"
	"What?"
	"If you love our baby you'll love fucking me."
	Ian unfastened his towel, tossed it on the floor and lied on his back.
	"Come on."
	Tara sat up repulsed at what she had to do.  She bent over and took his dick 
into her mouth.  It was as bad as she remembered it.  She tried to disconnect 
her mind from her body and got into the oral sex.  Ian moved his head between 
her legs and reciprocated.  He gushed into her mouth and she guiltily had an 
orgasm.  After a few seconds she rolled off of him and onto her side.  She 
moved her tongue about trying to get rid of the taste.
	Ian stayed for ten full days.


Part VIII
	Tara returned to her cell.  It was morning so all of the women were still in 
their cells.  Tara's breast no longer hurt, but the bruise was still there. 
As usual they opened the cells for lunch.
	She noticed the Romanian woman was gone.  The Italian woman said "Beebee. 
Beebee." while making a motion from her crotch.  The Romanian had given birth.
	She was shocked to see the Dutch woman.  She had a black eye and was covered 
in scratches and sores.  Both German women were gone.  The Dutch woman could 
only say "German, taken away.  Bitches!"  Tara showed the Dutch woman the 
bruise on her breast.  She showed no sympathy.
	The weeks and months went by.  Soon the Italian gave birth as did the 
Norwegian.  More women joined them including the crying Swede.
	The German women returned and were very subdued.  Tara didn't know where they 
had gone or what Boris had done to them, but they mostly behaved themselves. 
Pregnancy didn't sit well with the Swede any more than not being pregnant did. 
  She was always crying.  One evening for dinner they were served corn on the 
cob.  The two German women and a new Swiss woman raped the Swede with their 
ears of corn, then made her eat them.  As she ate they sodomized her with the 
freshly eaten cobs.
	Tara tried to lie low as much as possible.  The Dutch woman was becoming 
borderline lesbian sometimes coming into Tara's cell and trying to cuddle with 
her.  Thankfully the Dutch woman eventually delivered and was out of Tara's 
hair.  The German's went soon after.
	Ian continued to visit her.  She was beginning to enjoy his visits.  She 
hated the perpetual sex he demanded, but it got her out of the cell and into a 
warm bed with good food.  She would get excited when Boris would bark her 
name, but some times it was merely for an exam or photographs.  She was 
disappointed that Ian wasn't there.
	The cells grew gradually colder.  She still had no blanket and no clothes and 
would shiver at night.  Tara couldn't remember not being in this hell hole, 
but remembered it being sticky and hot when she entered.  She rubbed her 
growing belly and figured it to be the dead of winter.
	"Tara!"
	Tara looked out through her cell bars and saw Boris.
	"Tara!"
	He unlocked her cell.  He grabbed her arms and guided her towards the guest 
rooms.  Ian was here.


Part IX
	"Can I take her out to the village for dinner?"
	Boris stared at Ian across his desk.
	"Sure.  But you'll have to take precautions."
	"Like using a condom?", Ian said with a laugh.
	Boris sat straight-faced.  "There are only two restaurants in town you can 
visit.  The owner knows me and knows of my, well, my operation here.  I'm also 
in good standing with the local police chief and the colonel of the national 
police in this district."  Boris pulled out a business card and handed it to 
Ian.  "Here is a card.  If she gives you trouble don't call for police.  Call 
this number.  The right people will find her."
	Ian took the card, glanced at it, then strum it across his knuckles.
	"You think she'll make a run for it?"
	"Some women try to escape.  None ever succeed.  Eat at one of the restaurants 
I tell you to and you'll have no problems."
	"What kind of food?"
	"One is Italian.  Most westerners like it.  The other, local food.  Us men of 
the east prefer it.  You like what you like."
	"Make me a reservation for two at the Italian restaurant."
	"Fine, fine.  Go on up to the room.  You know the way now don't you?  Go see 
your woman."
	Ian opened the door and saw Tara standing in the middle of the room.  He 
hadn't visited in five weeks due to bad weather and commitments at work.  Oh 
fuck was she gorgeous!  Her belly had a well defined roundness to it.  Her 
breasts were full.  Her hair was full of body.  Even her pubic hair looked 
poofy.
	He walked over and gave her a hug.  She hugged back.  She seemed to be 
warming up to him.
	"I missed you."
	Tara took a deep breath and said, "Yeah... I missed you too."
	Ian dropped the embrace, took a step back, and admired her.
	"You look incredible."
	"Thanks."
	"I mean fucking incredible.  Your belly.  Your breasts.  God I just... I just 
want you."
	Tara wasn't crazy about this talk.  She wouldn't want a husband some day 
talking to her like this.  Husband?  Who'd want her now?
	"Let me take some pictures."
	At first Tara was horrified at the idea of naked pictures being taken of her. 
  But she had gotten used to it.  They'd probably end up all over the 
Internet.  She couldn't stop it.
	Ian snapped a lot of pictures of Tara, some tasteful, some in very 
disgusting, in Tara's opinion, poses.  He put the camera in his briefcase then 
locked it.
	"Guess what today is?"
	Tara thought hard.  How in the hell should she know?
	"Christmas?"
	Ian laughed.  "Boy you're off.  No, we're exactly halfway through our pregnancy."
	Tara hated the way he referred to the pregnancy in the plural.  He wasn't the 
one with a bastard child growing inside of him.  He wasn't the one who had to 
push a baby through an opening the size of a drinking straw.  She could never 
get a tampon in, how would a baby fit?
	"Of course that assumes you deliver exactly on time, but still, halfway there."
	Tara smiled and nodded not knowing what to say.
	"We're going to celebrate by going out."
	"Out?"
	"Yeah, there's an Italian place back in the village that's supposed to be good."
	"I get to leave here?"
	"For the evening, yeah.  I also secretly made a beauty salon appointment for 
you.  I love your full hair, but you probably want a trim, right?"
	Tara knew her hair had gotten long and shaggy.  It also had puffed out during 
her pregnancy like everything else on her body.  She was touched Ian had 
considered that.
	Tara looked down at her naked body and said, "Well, I can't well go like this 
can I?"
	Ian laughed.  "No.  I mean I love seeing your gorgeous naked body, but I do 
have an outfit for you.  But..."
	"But what?"
	"You can't get dressed here."
	Tara was puzzled.  "Where should I get dressed?"
	"In my limo.  It's a rule, the c... women can't wear clothes on the 
premises."  Ian had come close to referring to her as a "cow" a term he 
sometimes heard.
	Tara cleared her throat.  "Okay."  She paused.  "When can we go?"
	"Let's go now."


Part X
	Tara felt more naked than she ever had.  She had lost track of time, but in 
reality she hadn't worn any clothing in a little more than seven months.  She 
was about four-and-a-half months pregnant and had spent a little more than 
two-and-a-half waiting for Ian's sperm.
	Ian had his arm around here as they walked down the hall.  In his other arm 
was a heavy coat.  They walked through a door into a dingy, drafty room.  An 
ugly woman sat behind a desk.  Boris was standing next to her desk reading a 
piece of paper.  He looked up.
	"Ah, is the happy couple ready for their celebration?"
	"We're ready to go.", answered Ian.
	Boris turned to Tara.  "When you arrived we implanted a tracking device.  I 
won't say where.  If you try to escape, we'll find you, and your return here 
will be most unpleasant."
	Tara gulped.  There was something eerie about the way he said that.  She 
thought back to the German women.
	"I won't try to leave."
	Ian escorted her out the front door.  "Holy Mother of Christ!" she thought as 
the icy wind hit her.  Ian slipped on his coat while Tara stood there 
completely naked.  Not even shoes.  The snow was up to her shins.  She 
immediately began shivering.
	"Run if you can to the limo.  It's up by the gate."
	Tara tried to run, but the frigid air made her breasts ache and running only 
made it worse.  Also the cold, dry air just burned her lungs.
	In what seemed to be eternity they reached the gate.  She could see Ian's 
limo on the other side.  He handed one of the armed guards some paperwork.  He 
looked it over.  He walked over to Tara and looked her over.  Everywhere.  He 
made her stand at attention so she couldn't attempt to keep warm by folding 
her arms.  Finally the guard signed the paper and ordered the gate be open. 
The two jogged to the limo.  It was warm inside.
	Ian held her to warm her.  He seemed more interested in warming her breasts, 
butt, and crotch.
	"I love you."
	Ian had never said he loved Tara before.  She didn't love him.  In fact she 
hated him.  Yet, she liked his visits.  In high school Tara had researched the 
"Stockholm Syndrome".  This is where a hostage will begin to sympathize with 
his kidnappers, sometimes embracing their cause and attacking the rescuers. 
Was she a victim of this syndrome?
	"I love you too."
	She heard those four words like someone else had said them.  But it was her 
voice.  She didn't mean it.
	The limo started rolling.  Tara became very aware of her nakedness.
	"You have clothes for me?"
	Ian pointed to a bag.  She opened it and saw her outfit.
	Tara always put her panties on first.  She had since she was a little girl. 
She looked through the bag.
	"I don't see any panties."
	"There aren't any.  You don't need them."
	Interesting.  She found a bra, but noticed holes in the nipple area.  She 
hooked it in front, spun the bra around and slipped her arms through the 
straps.  Her entire nipple and some light flesh showed.
	"Interesting bra."
	Ian just smiled.  "I liked it."
	Another car went by the other way.  She wasn't sure if anyone could see her. 
  She had been too cold to notice if she could see inside the limo.  She found 
a blue dress and put it on.  It was cut for her pregnant belly.  Ian zipped 
her.  It had a plunging neckline.  She worried her exposed nipples would show 
of she bent forward.  She put on stockings that came just past her knees.  She 
put on her shoes.
	Ian put a pearl necklace on her then offered her a small makeup bag.
	"Makeup?"
	"You look radiant, but I know women like makeup."
	She put it on and checked herself in the mirror.  She looked great.
	"Your hair appointment is first.  I hope it doesn't mess up your clothes.  I 
didn't know how else to schedule it."
	"It's fine, it's fine.  Thank you for doing this for me, Ian."
	The beautician washed Tara's hair and trimmed it back to her shoulders.  I 
had been halfway down her back.  She kept her ankles wrapped around each other 
so as not to show the world she had no panties.  Ian had a small bag of items 
he picked up at the beautician and paid the bill.
	The limo took them a few blocks over to a restaurant.  Tara could smell the 
garlic bread.  She had a fabulous time with Ian.  It was simply the best food 
she had ever eaten.  Or maybe it was because she'd eaten horrible food for 
seven long months.  The two talked.  She learned about his life back in 
Canada.  His dreams of passing the company on to his son.  For a fleeting 
moment she felt proud she'd be giving birth to the heir of such a great 
company.  Ian had grown up, not dirt poor, but hardly rich in Sudbury, 
Ontario.  He joined the air force, worked his way through the ranks, then 
founded his aerospace company in 1992.  The only bad part about the whole 
dinner was her bra.  She had forgotten how constricting one could be and her 
dress was rubbing against her bare nipples.
	In what seemed like the blink of an eye they were back in front of the farm. 
  She slowly removed her clothing.  Soon she was completely naked.
	"Are you ready?"
	Tara sighed.  "Let's get this over with."
	Ian flung the door open.  Immediately the inside of the limo went from 
comfortably warm to freezing.  Ian got out and slipped into his coat.  Tara 
slowly emerged with her arms wrapped around her.  The sun had long gone down 
and the wind and snow had picked up.  They jogged to the gate.  Tara could see 
inside the guard shack.  Two young men sat in there.  One of them smoking, the 
other looking like he was telling a joke.
	"Come on you bastards." she mumbled into the wind.
	The smoking guard saw Ian and Tara.  He stood, slipped on a coat, grabbed his 
rifle, put out the cigarette, and slowly walked out to them.  He mimicked 
standing at attention and pointed to Tara.  She did.  She thought her breasts 
were going to freeze off.  Ian handed the guard her papers.  He walked around 
Tara staring her up and down.  He shrugged, signed the papers, and signaled to 
the other guard to open the gate.
	Despite the cold and what it did to her breasts, Tara made a quick jog to the 
building.  She didn't wait for Ian, she opened the door and went in.  The room 
was dark.  The ugly woman and Boris had gone home for the night.  Ian closed 
the door.
	"Let's get up to our room and take a hot bath."
	Tara was shivering uncontrollably.  She agreed through her chattering teeth. 
  They hurried to the room.  Ian entered the code and opened the door.  Tara 
ran in and climbed into the bed.  Ian removed his coat then walked into the 
bathroom and started filling the tub.  It was a very large tub.  Hot tub might 
have been a better description.  He left the water running, walked back into 
the room, removed his clothes, and slipped into bed with Tara.
	"Are you warm?"
	"No."
	He pulled her closer.  Her butt was firmly in the curve of his stomach and thigh.
	"Is that better?"
	"A little."
	"I'm running us a hot bath."
	"Thank you."
	She liked the warmth coming off Ian.  She wished he had insisted she be 
allowed to wear clothes in the snow.  Or that his limo be allowed to enter the 
gate.  Maybe he argued for that and didn't succeed.  Who's to say.
	Ian got up and shut off the water.  He walked over to Tara, pulled the 
blankets back, and kissed her cheek.
	"It's bath time."
	Tara rolled onto her back and stretched.  She thrust her breasts out as she 
did.  Ian could see veins in her breasts.  He liked the sight.  She got out of 
bed and followed Ian into the bathroom.  She sat and feed first.  This was 
another thing she had no problem doing, peeing and shitting in front of 
people.  She flushed and got right into the tub.  Ian was already in.  The 
water was hot.  It felt great.
	They took turns bathing each other.  Ian just held her wet, pregnant body in 
the tub.  They talked about nothing in particular.  Ian then spoke up.
	"I like your hair much better trimmed."
	She ran her hands through her wet mane.  "It feels better."
	"Pregnancy does that to a woman.  It makes her hair full.  I think it's the 
estrogen or something.  I forget."
	"Probably."
	"I noticed your pubic hair is pretty wild, I'm going to trim it after our bath."
	Tara noted he didn't ask if he could.  He was just going to do it.
	"I wouldn't know, I haven't seen my pubic hair in about a month.", she said 
while patting her belly.
	They got out and dried each other off.  Tara peed again.  She'd been peeing a 
lot.  She followed Ian back out to the bedroom.  He placed a dry towel on the 
bed and asked her to lie down with her legs open.  Tara liked his commanding 
attitude, but wasn't sure why.  He took the supplies he bought at the beauty 
salon and waxed, shaved, and clipped her pubic mane down.  He took a few 
pictures of his handiwork and suggested she shower off to get the hair off. 
While she did he loaded the pictures onto his laptop.  After she came out he 
showed her before and after shots.  When she was a girl the boys always seemed 
to find girlie magazines.  She opened one once.  She didn't notice the model's 
full breasts or thin waist.  She noticed the weird trims they had in their 
private areas.  The "after" picture reminded her of those magazines.  Her hair 
was closely cropped.  She had a little on her bulge and hair down both sides 
of her labia major.  She could make out every detail of her anatomy as it was 
no longer obscured by hair.
	The two made long, slow love.  For the first time she felt connected with 
Ian.  Was it the pregnancy?  The dinner?  The bath?  She had vowed to kill 
this man and considered him to be her rapist.  She climaxed multiple times 
during their session.  Ian just once.  The held hands under the covers.
	"How long are you staying?"
	"I need to take off no later than 9 tomorrow.  So probably 6, 6:30 or so."
	"You're leaving tomorrow!"
	"I have an aeronautics conference in Moscow.  I know, who the hell plans a 
conference in Moscow in the dead of winter?  I wish I could stay long, but 
duty calls."
	They fell asleep in each others.  Tara was dreaming about being with Ian 
forever when he woke her.  She looked up and saw him standing dressed with his 
suitcase next to him.  Boris was standing in the doorway.
	"I'm sorry Tara.  My pilot called and said Moscow is expecting a storm later 
today, so I need to leave now."
	Tara rubbed the sleep from her eyes.  Ian bent down, kissed her, and left. 
Tara stretched and got out of bed.  Boris had moved into the room.  Tara stood 
up and took a step when Boris grabbed her arm.
	"Come with me."
	"I have to pee."
	"You have a toilet in your cell."
	Boris jerked her down the hall.  The jarring and her pregnancy made her 
dribble.  She was worried Boris would notice she pissed down her leg.  If he 
noticed he didn't say anything.  They entered the room with the cells.  All of 
the women were asleep.  He opened her cell, shoved her in, and slammed the 
door shut.
	Tara brushed her hair out of her face then took a piss.  She was too tired to 
wipe or wash up, so she just fell into bed.  She began to think about Ian.  It 
made her cry.

Part XI
	"McAlester."
	Ian stood on the manufacturing floor of his aircraft plant holding his cell 
phone close to his ear.
	"It's a boy."
	"What's a boy?"
	"Tara.  She's carrying a boy."
	"I know."
	"What?  I haven't told you yet."
	"I said it was going to be a boy."
	"Well, yes, but I performed several ultrasounds and confirmed it."
	"And I told you I planted a boy in her."
	"Well, yes, but you couldn't really no for sure."
	"Listen Boris, I have some Chinese officials here.  I'll be out there in a 
few weeks."
	"Do you want to know how Tara's doing?"
	"Is she alive?"
	"Well, yes."
	"That's all I need to know."

Part XII
	Tara's belly grew larger and larger.  She could feel the baby kicking inside 
of her.  Sometimes it got the hiccups.  She saw very little of Ian which made 
her sad.  Boris was coming for her more.  She would grow excited at the 
prospect of seeing Ian.  Unfortunately more times than not he led her into an 
examination room rather than Boris' room.  She hated the exams.  As she neared 
her due date they became more frequent.  He was very rough with her. 
Sometimes he'd have a nurse in the room.  They spoke in their harsh, 
odd-sounding native tongue.  She never had any idea what was going on.
	When Ian visited his appetite for her seemed insatiable.  It seemed the 
fatter she got, the more she turned him on.  She was now in her eight month of 
pregnancy.  He kept waking her up for more sex.
	Her days in the cells were never a dull moment.  She was now the most 
pregnant woman there.  Everyone else had delivered.  One night the Swedish 
bitch kept them awake all night with her incessant crying.  The next morning 
the ugly cell keeper came in.  She stopped in front of the Swede's cell and 
start yelling in her weird tongue.  She hit the button to open all of the 
cells.  She was slow getting to the Swede's cell, but heard the other women 
gasping.  The Swede had miscarried during the night.  She was curled up in the 
fetal position next to the toilet.  The bloody remains of her now dead baby 
lied in a heap in the middle of the cell.  Out of reflex, Tara made the sign 
of the cross and said a quick prayer.  The cell keeper took exception to this. 
  She grabbed Tara by the hair and led her to a closet.  Inside was a mop and 
bucket.  Tara was going to have to clean up the abortion.
	After cleaning the mess she just lied in her cell, hand on her belly, and 
thought of the Swede's now dead baby.  How horrible.  Boris had come down and 
escorted the Swede away.  She had no idea what would become of the woman and 
wasn't about to ask.
	Tara of course had never been pregnant before.  She hadn't seen a calendar in 
probably a year.  Still, somehow, she knew.  Her baby's birth was imminent.

Part XII
	Ian reached over the naked body of Liu Lee.  The Chinese were trying to 
trying to convince him to install technology on their planes that they weren't 
allowed to have.  Ian wasn't afraid of customs laws.  For the right price he'd 
sell them nukes if he had them.  But he was playing timid, so they hired a 
"consultant" to convince Ian to sell them the technology.  He doubted this 
"consultant" was out of high school, much less possessing a college degree. 
He grabbed his phone and answered.
	"Yeah."
	"Ian, this is Boris."
	"Uh huh."
	"I think you should come out here now."
	"Is she in labor?"
	"Not yet.  But you know how temperamental women are.  She could deliver 
tomorrow or next week."
	"Yeah, I don't want to miss this.  I'll call you once I have my flight plan."
	"Okay.  I'll make preparations on my end."
	Ian hung up the phone.  He looked at Liu in the dim light of his night stand 
lamp.  She was really like fucking a Communist Party official.  She was 
probably reciting Mao's Red Book while they screwed.  But she was young, 
pretty, and had a vagina.  She did nothing enthusiastically, but did 
everything Ian asked her to do.
	Ian's company kept a pool of pilots on standby to shuttle executives, 
engineers, and technicians to any corner of the globe on a moment's notice. 
He called and scheduled his plane and pilot.  He set the phone down and then 
reached between Liu's thighs from behind and started rubbing her clit.  She 
woke up.
	"I have to leave in a few minutes.  How about a send off?"
	Without hesitation or protest, Liu slid her petite body down and started 
giving Ian a blow job.  Life was good.

Part XIII (The Birth)
Tuesday, 10:01 AM
	The limo pulled up in front of the breeding farm's main building.  Ian saw 
Boris outside feeding ducks in a small pond.  He seemed to be in a very good mood.
	"Hello, daddy!"
	Ian look at Boris.  He normally was a sullen man, but seemed to be glowing.
	"Damn Boris, did you get knocked up?"
	"What do you mean?"
	"You're glowing."
	"Well, it's a beautiful day!"
	"Is she in labor?"
	"Tara?  No."
	"Help me with this stuff."
	Ian had been steadily unloading the limo since he arrived.
	"How long are you planning on staying?"
	"Not too long.  This is video and photographic equipment.  I want to catch 
every second on film."
	"Did you bring a film crew too?"
	"Nah.  Most of this is automatic."

Tuesday, 10:53 AM
	Ian was just setting up the last camera when Boris brought Tara in.  She was 
huge.  She seemed to be struggling to walk.  She made it to the bed and lied down.
	"Hi Tara."
	She looked up at him.  "Hi."
	"You look absolutely incredible."
	"I don't feel incredible."
	Tara's hair had gotten shaggy again.  Her face was still as pretty, but she 
looked tired.
	"Getting much sleep?"
	"No, I can't get comfortable.  I want this to be over."
	Her breasts appeared to have doubled in size.  He could see green colored 
veins under the skin.  Her areola were huge and had gotten darker.  Her belly 
was enormous.  So round.  So delicious.  So sexy.  He checked out her crotch. 
  He couldn't see anything because her public hair was as full as the hair on 
her head.  Also her legs were hairy.
	Ian reached over and touched her leg.  "Stopped shaving?"
	Tara moaned.  "I cannot reach my legs and I don't care if I look like a wooly 
mammoth.  I feel too bad to care."
	"I can help you with that."
	Ian helped Tara slide to closer to the center of the bed.  He took out a 
collection of electric and standard razors.  He shaved not only her legs, but 
her vulva clean.  Her bald mound looked yummy.  He ran he mouth over her.  It 
was exciting.
	Ian looked up and saw something else.  He shaved her armpits also.  Personal 
grooming had gone out the window.  A lot of the spark had gone out of Tara. 
She wasn't protesting about anything.  Ian put the razors away then resumed 
running his mouth and tongue across her baldness.
	"Ian, should we be doing this?"
	"Yes."
	Ian ran his tongue all over her.  She was getting wet, but wasn't responding. 
  She wasn't going to orgasm.  But that was no reason for him not to.  He 
helped roll Tara onto her left side.  He got between her legs and penetrated 
her.  Her eyes opened wide, but she had little other reaction.  While he sunk 
his body into her, he played with her large nipples with his mouth and hands. 
  Her softness.  Her roundness.  Her pregnant state just overwhelmed her and 
he emptied into her after only a couple of minutes.
	"I just want to die."
	"Let me give you a bath."
	"I don't think I can get in or out of the tub."
	"We'll manage."
	Ian started the tub, then called Boris up for help.  Ian was shutting the 
water off as Boris walked in.
	"Can you help me get Tara in the tub?"
	"Okay."
	The two walked back into the room.  Boris looked at Tara.
	"My God man, did you fuck her?"
	"Yeah."
	Boris shook his head and smiled.
	It did take both men to get Tara safely into the tub.  She closed her eyes 
and relaxed.  Ian bathed her the best he could.  He hated fat people, 
especially fat women.  But a pregnant woman.  Sheer beauty.  He wanted to 
climb into the tub and fuck her again and again.  But he managed to control 
himself.
	After about 20 minutes she was ready to get out.  It was a real challenge to 
get her out of the tub as she was slick.  Ian dried her the best he could and 
helped her to the bed.  He continued to dry her off.
	"Do you want to get under the covers?"
	"No, I'm too hot.  Just leave me here to die."
	
Tuesday, 2:22 PM
	Not much was happening.  Tara tried to sleep, but simply couldn't.  He took 
hundreds of pictures of her and conducted an interview on tape.  She mostly 
groaned and said she wanted to die.  She didn't know it, but was 5 days overdue.
	Ian was able to get her to eat and drink a little.  He was worried about her 
getting dehydrated, so he pushed the fluids.

Tuesday, 6:07 PM
	Ian made love to Tara two more times.  She was like fucking a warm bowl of 
jelly.  He used a washcloth to clean up her vagina and vulva a little.  They 
ate and drank some more.

Tuesday, 7:43 PM
	Ian and Tara were snuggled under the sheets.  It had been a long day for both 
of them.  Ian fell right to sleep.  Tara tried.  She slept for 10 or 20 
minutes stretches.  She kept having to wake Ian to help her to the bathroom. 
All of the liquid was pouring right through her.

Tuesday, 11:12 PM
	Tara didn't know what had happened.  She thought someone had placed a garden 
hose inside of her and turned it on.  But that didn't happen.  She shook Ian.
	"My water broke."
	Ian came out of his slumber.  He was soaked with amniotic fluid.  He pulled 
back the wet sheets.  Everything was soaked.  He couldn't believe how much 
fluid came out of her.  He kissed her on the clit and said he'd get some 
towels and clean sheets.  A wave of panic came over Tara.  It was really 
happening.

Tuesday, 11:30 PM
	Boris stood in the doorway.  He face was squished up.
	"Her water broke, didn't it?"
	"Yeah.  How'd you know?"
	"I can smell it from here."
	Ian sniffed the air.  He hadn't really noticed.
	Boris walked into the room.  He saw Tara lying on the soaked bed.
	"All of this came out of that?", he asked pointing to Tara.
	"Yeah."
	"No wonder she was so fat, she was all fluid."
	Boris ran his hand on the bed.
	"I'll have to get you a new mattress.  She soaked this one through."
	"Can you do it soon?"
	"Yeah.  How dilated is she?"
	"I haven't checked."
	"You'd better."
	Ian shoved his hand into Tara's vagina.  She gasped.  She wasn't expecting it 
at all.  She tried to move her body away to pull away from his hand, but 
couldn't move.
	"About 3 centimeters.  I can get my index finger in there, but not quite my 
middle finger."
	"She really need to be walking around to open her cervix up.  Why don't you 
two walk down the hall while I have the mattress changed."
	Boris left.  Tara looked at Ian in utter horror.
	"Ian.  You have to get me to a hospital.  I can't have this baby here.  I 
need a hospital and a doctor."
	"Boris is a doctor."
	"Ian, I am so scared.  I am so fucking scared.  Please, for the love of God 
don't make me deliver here.  I'll do anything.  I'll say I'm your wife.  I 
won't mention this place.  Please Ian!  Please!  Don't make me have my baby here."
	"Whose baby?"
	Tara was in tears.  "I can't deliver here.  Please Ian!"
	"Look you little bitch.  That's my baby inside of you, not yours.  And you 
will deliver it here and you will do so with pleasure."
	"For the love of God, Ian, I don't care whose baby it is.  I just want it out 
of me and I want to go a hospital."
	Ian wanted to slap her, but didn't given her current state.  Instead he just 
snarled at her.
	"Tara.  You are having the baby here.  I can make it a comfortable event for 
you, or it can be the worst experience of your life.  You choose.  I suggest 
you cooperate."
	"Fuck you!"
	"What?"
	"I'm not cooperating.  You can't possibly do anything to me that could make 
this any worse for me."
	"Why you little bitch!"
	Ian raised his hand back to slap her face.  She held up both hands to block. 
  He used his left hand to move an arm and slapped her left breast.
	"Go ahead.  Beat me.  I don't care.  Kill the bastard growing inside of me!", 
Tara shrieked.
	Ian considered Tara might give him a little trouble.  He was prepared.  He 
pulled two pairs of handcuffs from a bag.  He attached one to each side of the 
headboard.  Tara was starting to get up off the bed.  Where she thought she 
was going was anyone's guess.  Ian shoved her back down.  She was flat on her 
back.  He grabbed her right ankle and lifted it up over her head and attached 
the loose end of the handcuff.  She clawed at his arms and was shrieking 
hysterically.  He quickly walked around to the other side of the left and 
attached her other ankle to the bed.  She was screaming about the pain in her 
back.
	"You fucking bastard.  This hurts so much!", she yelled through sobs.  "Why 
are you hurting me, Ian, why?  I just want to go to the hospital."
	Ian hadn't noticed that Boris had come in.  Several naked women carried a 
mattress behind him.  He held a stack of sheets and towels.  He had a puzzled 
look on his face.
	"This little redhead is a total fucking bitch."
	Boris set the towels and sheets down.  He motioned for the naked women to 
leave.  He closed the door behind them, cleaned his glasses, then spoke to Ian.
	"You have to understand that a woman in labor is about like a woman with PMS 
times twenty.  Add to it that she's scared."
	Tara tried to reposition herself.  If she hadn't been pregnant, it'd be a 
piece of cake.  But she could hardly move as it was.  The pain in her back was 
excruciating.  She started sobbing saying, "I'm sorry.  I'm sorry.  I'll be good."
	Boris looked over at the spread eagle women.
	"I doubt she can deliver in that position.  I think you should release her, 
and have her walk up and down the hall.  I'll change the mattress."
	"Fuck that!  She can have the soaking wet mattress and she can stay in that 
position until she learns to behave herself."
	"Ian.  In that position she won't be able to deliver.  Her vagina is pinched 
off.  The baby could die."
	"Don't give me that shit.  She can squirt the baby out just fine."
	Boris walked over to Tara.  He took his hand out of his lab coat and inserted 
it into her vagina.  He turned his hand and tried to reposition it.
	"Ian.  I can't touch her cervix.  You're going to have to release her."
	Tara just continued to sob.
	"Fine."
	He walked over to Tara and looked her straight in the eye.
	"I'm going to remove the handcuffs.  But so help me, if you try to escape or 
whine about wanting a hospital, I'll sew your cunt shut and let my son rip his 
way out.  Got it?"
	Tara just sobbed.
	"Got it?"
	"Yes, please, please my back.  Oh God, my back."
	Ian took his key and released Tara.  She fell back into place and was still 
sobbing uncontrollably.  Boris took Ian aside.
	"Ian, what the hell are you doing?"
	"I paid fucking good money for this.  Instead of being rational about this, 
she's asking I rush to a hospital.  Fuck, what does she want?  A baby shower? 
  A bunch of people fawning over her?  Millions of women give birth each week."
	Boris just shrugged.  "You can do what you want with her.  But if the baby 
dies because of what you did, you're still paying for it.  The insurance I 
sold you doesn't cover this."
	"Why is she being such a bitch about this?"
	"You picked her.  Now take her for a walk while I get this mattress out of here."
	Ian ran his hands through his hair.
	"Yeah, okay."

Wednesday, 12:50 AM
	Tara had a lot of difficulty walking at first.  Her back really did hurt her. 
  She had to lean on Ian for support.  She just wanted to die.  She was beyond 
exhausted.  She was in pain.  She was carrying a man's baby who just inflicted 
a great deal of pain on her and she was having to rely on this same man to 
help her walk.
	"I have to rest."
	Tara faced the wall and leaned against it.  Without any warning Ian stuck his 
hand into her vagina to check her cervix.  She had progressed to four centimeters.
	"Would you please tell me before you do that?"
	"No."
	"It's my body.  I hate you just sticking your hand into my like that.  I'll 
deliver this baby when I'm ready to deliver."
	"I paid Boris a lot of money for use of your uterus.  I will continue to 
check you ask often as I want."
	Tara wanted to scream.  She wanted to cry.  But she was simply too exhausted.
	"Rest is over, keep walking."
	"I need to lie down."
	"Keep walking."
	"You don't understand.  I have to stop."
	Ian pulled Tara's hair back and said through clinched teeth, "Keep walking!"
	Tara let out a sob, then took a step.  And then another.  And another.  Her 
legs felt like they were filled with cement.  Every step jarred her back.
	"I have to pee."
	"I'm not stopping you."
	"Can we go back to the room?"
	"If you need to pee, then pee."
	Tara took in a deep breath and continued walking.  She tried to hold it, but 
started to dribble.  Once the dribble started she couldn't hold it.  She heard 
it hitting the carpeted floor.  She started crying, but didn't stop walking. 
The warm urine collected on her thighs which were already coated in amniotic 
fluid.
	Ian turned her around and they started to walk back to the room.  Tara's bare 
feet stepped over the warm, wet puddles she had just left.  He led her to the 
bed.  She collapsed onto it.
	"Get some rest.  I need something to eat."

Wednesday, 3:12 AM
	Back spasms had completely crippled Tara.  She collapsed in the hall.  Ian 
had to practically drag her back into the room.  She was a smelly, sticky mess.
	Ian pulled her onto the bed.  Her pregnant body landed on his.  God she was 
heavy.  He slipped out from under her.
	Ian had been naked since he last fucked her.  He was as hard as a rock.  He 
thought about making Tara give him a blow job, but the way she was acting she 
would probably bite his dick off.  He looked over at her.  She was lying 
spread eagle on the bed, half asleep, half awake.  He walked over to her. 
With his left hand his felt her pussy, running his fingers into her.  With his 
right he jerked off.  He came over her mons venus.  He wiped his right hand on 
her thigh then went into the bathroom to take a shower.

Wednesday, 4:00 AM
	Boris held a stethoscope to Tara's belly.  He had convinced her to sip some 
Gatorade.  He heard the baby's heartbeat.  It was strong.  She was now at 5 
cm.  Contractions had started, but were mild.  Tara complained she was in 
extreme pain in her back.  Boris said he didn't have any drugs to give her. 
Ian stood watching popping grapes into his mouth.  He was as hard as a rock again.

Wednesday, 8:18 AM
	Ian was awaken by a blood curdling scream.  It didn't sound human.  He looked 
over and saw Tara.  Her mouth was wide open and she was struggling to breathe. 
  She finally exhaled, then suddenly inhaled, then let out a long, very loud moan.
	"Ian, please, please don't do this to me."
	"What's wrong?"
	"The contractions.  My back.  Oh God, God, please deliver me from this."
	Ian climbed out of bed, walked around, and stuck his hand inside Tara.  8 cm.
	Ian casually walked away into the bathroom to pee.
	Ian timed the contractions.  They were getting closer together.  Ian new this 
would be a very difficult time for Tara.  He didn't tell her.

Wednesday, 9:47 AM
	Boris walked into the room.
	"The whole damn building can hear her screaming."
	Ian looked up.  "It should end soon, she's at 10 cm."
	"Is she pushing?"
	"Says she's too tired."
	Boris walked over to the bed.  He pulled  his speculum out of his lab coat 
pocket, brushed it off, then shoved it inside Tara.
	"As you English speakers say, 'It's show time!'."
	Boris pocketed his speculum and looked at Ian.  "You have to encourage her to 
push.  Don't threaten.  Encourage."
	Tara was lying sideways on the bed, the head and footboards on her left and 
right.  Ian walked around to her head.  He kneeled with each knee against her 
shoulder.  His rock hard cock was imbedded in her hair.  He looked her 
straight in eye.
	"Tara.  I know this has been rough on you.  You're almost there sweetie, 
almost there.  You have to push.  Remember breathe and push, breathe and push."
	Tara sucked in a breath.  Then another.
	"I can't."
	"Tara, this could be over in a few minutes.  You just need to push.  Press 
down like you're taking a shit.  You're so close."
	Tara's face bunched up as she tried to push.  But her back hurt too much and 
she was too tired.
	Ian looked up at Boris.  Boris shrugged.
	Ian scooted back and held his mouth near her ear.
	"Now you listen up you little bitch.  Fuck a C-section.  If you don't push my 
son into this world now, I will take my fucking Bowie knife, shove it into 
your ass, slice into your vagina, and keep going until I hit public bone.  I 
will then reach into the bloody hole and pull him out and leave you here to die."
	Tara detected the seriousness in Ian's voice.  The way he had been acting 
towards her, she fully believed he was prepared to do it.  She took in three 
gulps of air then pushed with everything she had.  It felt like someone had 
hit her in the small of the back with a flaming axe, but she held it, pushed, 
pushed, pushed.
	Ian got up off the bed and walked to the business end.  He looked.
	Boris looked at Ian.  "I don't want to know what you told her, but she's 
doing a good job now."  He got up and let Ian take his place.
	Ian sat on the stool, slapped the side of her ass and told her she was doing 
great.  He heard Boris sigh behind him.  Ian gently ran his fingers across her 
labia and her clit.  She was so hot.  So fucking hot.  He licked her clit. 
Amazing.
	"You know Tara, childbirth really isn't different from an orgasm.  All of 
that contracting."
	Boris cleared her throat.  "You need to encourage her to push."
	"You heard the doctor.  Push.  Come on!  One, two, three... PUSH!"
	Tara look another deep breath and pushed with all of her might.  Her heels 
came off the bed which push more strain on her back which made the pain worse. 
  But she couldn't push and keep her feet down.
	"Okay, again Tara... PUSH!"

Wednesday, 10:21 AM
	Boris stood at the back of the room just dumbfounded.  Ian couldn't keep his 
mouth off of Tara.  But at least he was reminding her to push.
	"Holy shit, she's crowning."
	Boris looked over his glasses and saw the baby's head appear.
	Ian bent down and kissed the baby's head.  "Daddy loves you."
	Tara pushed again.  She felt the head plop out.  Ian took his son's head.  He 
suctioned the baby's mouth and nose then reached in for his shoulders.  Tara 
again pushed.  He turned his son sideways.  She gave one final push.  Ian 
pulled his son out.  The son began to cry.
	Ian bundled the baby up making sure to hold him at vagina level.  He was so 
handsome.  Once the cord stopped pulsing he clamped it twice the cut the cord. 
  He picked up his son and took him to Boris.
	Boris checked the boy out from head to toe.  He had pinked up and looked 
good.  Once it was obvious the baby was in the clear Ian turned his attention 
back to Tara.  He walked over and started sucking her tit.
	"Ian!  No!"
	"What?  I want to celebrate."
	"If you do that she'll close up.  She still has to pass the placenta."

Wednesday, 10:39 AM
	Tara remembered the baby exiting her.  She heard voices, even some yelling. 
Everything was a blur.  Then a contraction hit.
	"Am I having another baby?"
	Neither Ian nor Boris understood what she had just said.  Instead Ian stood 
by to help deliver the placenta.  Tara kept wanting to close her legs.  It 
took pressure off her back.  Ian kept forcing them open.  Once the placenta 
passed he let her close her legs once more.

Wednesday, 11:11 AM
	"My baby is hungry."
	Tara didn't respond.  She was asleep.
	Ian grabbed her right nipple and tweaked it hard.  She didn't respond.  He 
pinched it and rolled it between his thumb and index finger.  She finally came 
around.
	"That hurts."
	"My baby is hungry."
	He placed his son so he could wrap his mouth over Tara's nipple.  He 
instinctively began to suck.
	For a minute nothing happened.  Then Tara felt tingling in both breasts.  She 
got suddenly thirsty.  The baby began to suck hard.  She felt warm wetness on 
her other nipple.  She saw a white drip that ran down the side of her breast. 
  Her milk had come in.
	Ian's baby didn't nurse for long.  He fell asleep.  Ian placed him in the 
cradle then got into bed with Tara.  He helped himself to her left breast. 
The sweet milk squirted into his mouth.  He ran his left hand over her pussy. 
  She was really sore.  Ian bit her nipple then released.  He slid up to her 
ear kissing her along the way.
	"Boris says I have to wait six weeks to fuck you.  I think I'm going to do it 
now."
	Tara's eyes opened wide.
	"I don't think I can."
	"We examined you after the birth.  Very little tearing.  There's no reason I 
can't fuck you now."
	"Ian..."
	Ian rolled on top of her and slid his dick into her.  She cried out and 
clawed the sheets with both hands.  Ian started his rhythm.
	"You're like fucking the Grand Canyon."
	The pain was so bad that Tara developed the dry heaves.  Ian came with 
explosive force.  His body jerked sending shocks of pain through Tara's 
vagina, uterus, and back.

Part XIV
	Three days had passed.  Tara was able to get out of bed, but was still in a 
lot of pain.  Boris wouldn't even give her Tylenol.  She was bleeding heavily. 
  She wasn't allowed any clothing, so she couldn't wear a maternity pad much 
less a maxipad.  Her bed was a bloody mess.  No one had changed the sheets 
since the birth.
	At some point Boris had circumcised Ian's baby.  She was changing his diapers 
when she noticed.  Ian continued to have sex with her, but they agreed on blow 
jobs.  Drinking his load was better than vaginal sex.
	Ian had just left for China.  He said he had to close a deal.  Right after he 
left Boris walked in.  Ian's baby was asleep in the cradle.  Boris unlocked 
the wheels and instructed Tara to follow him.  The trio walked far to an end 
of the building she had never seen.  Her inner thighs and crotch hurt from the 
walking.  Ian's baby woke up and started to cry.  This triggered her breasts 
to let down.  Ian opened a large steel door.  The odor of sour milk, piss, and 
shit hit Tara in the face.  She followed Boris in and saw a number of small 
cells.  She recognized some of the women.  They had delivered before her.  A 
number of babies were crying.  The cells had two openings in the bars.  She 
saw the Romanian woman with her breasts hanging out of the cell and a large, 
hideous device attached to them sucking her milk out.  Boris opened a cell, 
shoved Tara in, picked Ian's baby out of the cradle and handed him to her.  He 
slammed the cell door shut.
	Tara's days were spent doing very little.  At any given time one of the 
baby's was crying.  She nursed Ian's baby as she needed and just as often she 
was hooked to the milking machine.
	About a week after delivering Ian's baby she was allowed to shower.  The 
water was freezing cold, but she felt clean.
	Ian visited often.  She and his baby were taken back to the same room where 
she delivered.  Usually Ian played with the baby, had sex with her, then drank 
her milk.  She wasn't as sore and anything was better than being hooked up to 
that infernal milking machine.
	Less than a month after delivering the bleeding stopped.  Her period started 
soon after.  She was crampy and bled heavily.  She could hear her mother in 
his thick Irish baroque, "You know Tara, after you have yer fist baby, yer 
periods will get very bad you know.  So just keep havin' babies.  No periods 
when yer pregnant ya' know."
	About three months after delivering Ian's baby she was lying bed with Ian. 
He had his arm around her.  He thanked her for delivering the baby.  He got up 
and started to get dressed.
	"I hired a nanny to take care of my son.  She looks like you.  She God can 
she give head.  I have to pull the sheets out of my ass when she's done."
	Tara was confused.  "Why would you need a nanny?"
	"I can't watch a baby.  I work all day."
	I wave of sadness overcame Tara.  "But... what about me?"
	"In an hour you're no longer mine."
	"What?"
	"I only paid for use of your body for a year.  Can you believe a year has 
gone by?  It was a year ago tomorrow that I first fucked you."
	Tara swallowed.  "Can't I go with you?"
	"Are you kidding?
	"No.  I'll go with you.  I'll raise him.  He's my son.  I can take care of him."
	"No, he's my son!  I rented your uterus for nine months.  I paid for the 
extra three months.  But it's over."
	Tara started sobbing.
	"When he's running my corporation you can take heart knowing he grew inside 
of you."
	With that Ian grabbed his bag, his baby, and walked out the door.

Part XV
	Tara was sobbing uncontrollably.  "How could this have happened?" she 
thought.  As badly as Ian had treated her, she loved him.  They had a child 
together.
	Boris walked into the room.  He grabbed Tara by her hair.  She tried to fight 
him, but he started whipping her breasts with a small whip.  He took her to 
yet another unknown part of the building.  They went down several flights of 
stairs.  Boris opened the door.  Tara looked into the room and screamed, "Oh 
God, no, no...."
	Boris shoved her in and slammed the door.
	

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