J C WINCHESTER’S AUTHOR BIOGRAPHY
JC Winchester is a member of the Wicked Pens, a group of indie romance and erotica writers.
He has been writing erotica since 2003 and discovered a choose-your-own adventure erotic story site, Chyoo. He enjoyed the challenge of adding onto other’s stories, blending his own voice in with theirs. But before too long he was called to serve his country and put down the pen. Nearly a decade later an old friend challenged him to join a Survivor themed writing contest on Literotica. It sparked his muse and before he knew it the stories were rapidly flowing, helping him to place 4th that year. Since then he has slowed down his pace to focus on combining his love of the outdoors and for writing.
When not writing he can usually be found outside trying some new adventure or coaxing his horses into believing they really don’t need to eat as much as they do (probably will never happen but he can wish!).
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The night provided a restless sleep, memories of floating in the ocean with fins circling about haunting his slumber. As much as he tried to, Trent couldn’t recall how he’d ended up on the island whole and unscathed. Fears of going hungry or stir crazy filled the gaps left by the nightmares.
The first morning rays gave him a little reprieve from the nightmares but brought a reality of nothing in the shallows just yet. There was the idea of going nocturnal but he wasn’t thrilled at the idea of walking about the waters in his bare feet lest he discovery a nasty surprise of debris or a well defended animal.
By mid-afternoon Trent had stripped himself of his clothes, after deciding it best to wear them sparingly so they lasted longer when needed. With the clouds in the sky he was a little less concerned about the sun, though he was making it a point to stay along the forest edge and the shade offered by the long leaves.
Walking around nude was taking a bit more to get used to than he at first figured. The warm sun upon his privates was odd at first, as was the feeling of a cool breeze across skin that was not accustomed to it. Still, that he was alone made it a bit easier to deal with. At least he didn’t see the eyes peering at him from afar.
When the water receded for low tide he went for a stroll along the beach, hopeful to find something within the tidal pools that he could add to his diet. While the first coconut had been tasty, he was sure that it wouldn’t be enough to sustain him. The late afternoon had been spent gathering small sticks with the intention to make a blockade in the tidal pools the next time high tide came in. He’d heard once or twice of something like that working and figured it was worth a shot. At the least it kept his mind occupied.
High tide came and went, leaving him feeling the anxiety of waiting to see if his trick would work. Trent took off at a sprint when he saw some splashing coming from one of the pools and almost dived into the pool for fear of whatever it was escaping. He was delighted to find a small flounder having been trapped by the receding tide and didn’t hear the giggles coming from the kelp bed just offshore.
That night the couple of fillets of flounder not only filled his stomach but gave him a much needed boost of confidence that maybe he could make it, at least until help came.
Over the course of the next few days he began to adapt to island life, learning to smear his untanned parts with coconut flesh, sleep during the hottest parts of the day, and break his sleep into two parts to take advantage of cool nights. Most days he caught one if not two fish in his traps and even had a mahi-mahi show up one day. He wasn’t so sure how a deep water fish had been caught in the shallows but chalked it up to good luck and either way it made for good eating. There was a bit of a concern about eating such lean food but once again luck smiled on him with a blue footed booby that he was able to snag. As each day went on he could feel his confidence rising in being able to ride this ordeal out. The only thing that worried him was the constant feeling of being watched.
By the end of his first week on the island he’d figured out a routine, split between food gathering and exploring the island. The only thing that really was beginning to bother him was the loneliness, making him start to understand all the stories of stranded people making friends out of coconuts and whatnot. It was even beginning to make him worry about hallucinations, the night before he thought he’d heard two women chattering off in the water but there was way that could have happened, or at least he told himself that. As he approached one of the tidal traps, he smiled again at his good fortune. The sound of a large splash stole his attention and he looked up to see the ripples of something large having disturbed the surface. Grabbing the fish by the gills, he trotted away from the water’s edge, wary of what might have been that large and yet so close to the beach. Images of sharks hunting in the shallows quickly came to mind.
As he settled against the wall of the hallowed out encampment, stomach full of fish, the thought of the voices had him thinking about how he missed the company of a woman even just to chat. His eyes drifted shut as fond memories on the California beaches played in his head, dozing for a while at the images.
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Dakota stood in the doorway of the bathroom, still dripping wet, and staring at the surprised face of her roommate Kylie who was supposed to have been spending the weekend at her boyfriends. Her secret was open for Kylie to see and the girl was currently very fixated on its still wet, limp form. The perfect weekend alone was ruined, but that was the least of her concerns as she saw images of herself being kicked out of the college and potentially worse occurring.
“Oh hell NO!” Kylie stated loudly, keeping her voice barely below a yell.
Dakota’s lower lip quivered before being gently held between her teeth. She quietly wrapped the robe around her slender body, tying it tightly about her waist. Her eyes followed Kylie into the room, watching as her roommate threw her duffel upon her bed.
Kylie went straight for her closet, diving deep into the back and rummaging about before pulling an object free. It was a bottle of Smirnoff peach vodka that she held by the neck. With a quick twist she cracked the seal upon it and looked over at Dakota.
“Gimme a second, this shit is just too much to deal with sober,” she said while shaking her head as if to rid of a bad thought.
Ruby lips wrapped around the opening of the bottle as she lifted it up. Her throat moved slightly as she took two long swallows of the drink. When the bottle came free of her lips, her eyes screwed tight, and she coughed several times.
“God I forgot how much that shit burns when straight. Burns but damn I need that.” She looked up at Dakota and offered up the bottle. “Want some? I have a feeling this is going to be a conversation best lubed with alcohol.”
“I…I’ve never drank before,” Dakota said, at the moment just glad that it was going to be a conversation for the moment.
“First time for everything sweetie. If you’re going to hang with the girls you better be able to drink like one,” Kylie said before taking another swig off of the bottle and offering it up again.
“I guess,” she said, a little quiver in her voice. Dakota’s fingers wrapped around the glass bottle and brought it to her lips, lifting it just enough to take a sip. Quickly she tried to swallow it down and began to cough at the burning sensation going down her throat.
“Ugh, that stuff is wicked!” Dakota exclaimed once she felt able to speak again.
“Not quite as wicked as breaking up with your boyfriend because he’s a worthless asshole only to come back to your dorm and find out your roommate is a guy,” Kylie said flatly.
Something just snapped in Dakota. “I am not a man!” She nearly yelled but quickly caught herself.
Kylie blinked a couple of times, caught back on her heels by the sudden outburst from her normally docile roommate. Dakota decided to press her advantage and continued on.
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“Fucking asset liquidity rules!” she belted out as her frustration finally boiled over. Her head collapsed into her arms, breathing hard as she fought back the tears. Lisa just couldn’t understand how it was so hard for her to grasp the concept, things hadn’t been nearly this hard in high school and while she’d barely gotten by her freshman year it hadn’t been this hard. A soft tap on her shoulder pulled her from the brink of tears and she glanced up to see Philip looking down at her.
“Fiddlers macroeconomics course eh? You wouldn’t by chance need a little help with studying? Fiddlers smart but she isn’t overly creative when it comes to presenting the material in a way people can understand it.”
For a few seconds she just blinked, jaw open, and when the offer sunk in Lisa damned near kissed him but managed to keep her composure. “Well, I would like to pretend that I could only use a little help but umm, I guess it’s probably easy to tell I need a lot of help. And well, honestly, it’s partly my fault as I seriously suck at taking notes.” She sighed, embarrassed, knowing that most of the people here considered note taking a basic skill.
“It’s ok, I still remember most of my notes but if we get stuck they’re just in my room. Do you have something I could sit on?”
“Ummm my bed would be best I guess, only place with room for two people to sit.” The fact that she was offering a guy a place on her bed, even if it was just to study, struck her. Granted, it seemed he was as intent to help her as she was to actually study the material let her feel that this was more than the usual so called study buddy. All those thoughts went out of her head though, when he started from the beginning and slowly worked her through the chapters for the test.
When she finally glanced up at the clock, Lisa realized that it was past midnight and that he’d spent four hours teaching her what had taken Dr. Fiddler days to attempt to lecture. There had to have been numerous times when she’d frustrated him, of that she was sure. Yet, he’d continued on, patiently going over the different liquidity classes and how bonds worked. She excused herself to use the bathroom, and upon her return found him having passed out on the bed. Lisa couldn’t help but smile a bit at the innocence of it, cleared the bed and curled up on bed being sure to give him some space then passed out herself.
When her alarm went off, she slapped the snooze button and settled back under the covers, taking a second to realize there was a hand resting upon her chest. It took another second for her to remember Philip helping her out and then passing out on her bed. Wonder at how he would react to waking up with a handful of tit crossed her mind, as well as the curiosity if hers was the first one he’d felt. Well, she’d find out in four more minutes when the snooze button went off. A little grin crossed her face and she snuggled a little deeper into the covers.
It took about fifteen seconds of the alarm going off before he finally roused himself and very quickly realized where his hand was. “Oh shit…I..I’m sorry!” Philip moved to get out of the bed and realized he was stuck between her and the wall. “I’m really sorry about that,” he kept repeating till she pressed a finger against his lips.
“It’s ok, I knew your hand was there.” A coy smile played on her lips as she watched his facial expressions change, “I just thought you would like to wake up and realize you’d been feeling it. The only thing I want in return is to know if mine is the first tit you’ve held.” When he slowly nodded yes, she just smiled, kissed him on the cheek, and slipped out of the bed. “Well I better run off to class and take that test. Wish me luck!”
Coming out of the test, Lisa felt the best that she’d felt in ages, actually feeling confident that she’d done well on it. Hell, all things considered if she even passed it, she’d be thrilled. Fortunately for her the test had been on a scantron sheet and the teaching assistants had it scanned and entered by evening. She kept having to refresh the online gradebook, not believing the 89 sitting alongside of Exam 1. That test was simply the highest score she’d gotten since leaving high school and Philip had taught her all the material in one night. Obviously she owed him a big thank you for all of the help and slowly her lips twisted to a smile as one came to mind.
She pulled the shirt down a bit before raising her hand and gently knocking on his door. It was open, most people here kept their door open when studying, but she still wanted to be polite. When he finished the paragraph he was working on, Phil turned to acknowledge her. She asked to come in, and when he said yes, she stepped in and gently shut the door behind her. Lisa told him about the score as she approached the desk. While listening to his congratulations, she kneeled before his chair and looked up at him. “So, let me thank you properly.”
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While she played out the role of the generous benefactor and head of the charity to the public, Ms. Pryde or Mistress Alexis to her closest friends and associates, began to reach out to her contacts and lay out the plan for the other wing. The real reason she’d made this investment and worked out the screen of a charity was her business sense had smelled an unfulfilled market, with a ready supply of workers in dire need of a job. One of the risks of being a prostitute was getting knocked up, and while many were able to catch it in time, there were always those girls who refused to believe it or didn’t notice the symptoms until it was too late to get an abortion. The lucky ones had a support network of friends who helped them get on their feet, the very lucky ones that is, but more often than not they found themselves kicked out by their pimp and unable to support themselves.
The fact that men tended to find pregnant women exceptionally sexy was well known to her, often having heard claims that there was a certain glow about them. Alexis had even heard of a famous nude photographer whose favorite women to photograph were those in their first trimester. That there were also a few websites that seemed to make a tidy profit off of pregnant actresses added to the thought progression. These thoughts had gotten her into deep thought, having watched the struggles a number of prostitutes went through when they were forced to deal with when that line turned a color they didn’t want.
With this thought in mind Alexis had set out to create a place where these young women could go, not that she was necessarily that benevolent, the idea of filling a wanted niche was her primary drive. However, it did help soothe her conscience that the women would have a roof over their heads and that perhaps their children would have a better start to lives than they would otherwise. And now she sat in her office perusing the first applicants for rooms at the home.
She had been admittedly surprised at just how many had applied, knowing what they would have to do to earn their keep. Alexis had to remind herself just what these young women had been doing to keep themselves alive so far, and the desperation was what made them willing to take the chance on an unknown Mistress. A slight sigh did escape her lips at the large number though, realizing she was in for a long task of figuring out just who to accept.
One of the first things she did was to separate the girls by the trimester they were in, bearing in mind that in order for this to work she would need a steady stream of girls. The stack with girls in the third trimester was the thinnest with the stack of second trimester being the thickest. That kind of made sense to her, if you were in denial it wasn’t terribly hard to miss out the first trimester, denial was just that powerful. By the third trimester, a lucky girl or rather a smart one, would have most likely figured out a medical support system and thus not want to leave. The unlucky ones, well, she just put that out of her mind. Those who wanted the opportunities would at least have the chance to prove themselves.
Taking those thoughts into consideration, she decided to start with the thickest pile, figuring they would be far enough along to be showing and thus fulfill the fetish desires and have the most immediate impact on her fledgling business. Through the packets she went, reviewing everything about the young women. She’d requested front and rear shots as well as a checklist of their experiences and a full STD exam. The exam was enough to eliminate a third of the girls right off of the bat, she noted with a shake of her head. Through physical traits and experience in various sexual acts she sorted them, wanting to try to get as broad a selection as she could. The ages she kept to college aged and a few years older.
Finally, she managed to settle on ten girls to administer the physical exams to, and moved on to the group in their first trimester. A similar scan went through their documents, eliminating any who had tested positive, as well as checking background information. No need for girls who’d been busted a couple of times for prostitution. Granted she’d already seen to some protection from police investigations, in exchange for future services rendered, but no need to make it difficult on her protector. Once that pile was completed, she moved over to the two women in their last trimester, giving a cursory quick glance at the health and police records before throwing them on the exam pile. Desperation sometimes made for willing workers.
The breeder pile was not surprisingly empty. Alexis, at least by her current name, was still an unknown commodity, much less the little business she was putting together. To be willing to be knocked up by a paying client, well, she wasn’t surprised that any women had yet to put their names forwards. But in time they would come, and so would the clients.
With that chore done, she cracked open a bottle of merlot, poured herself a glass and settled in on financial records.
A week later and the interviewees had been arriving for the last twelve hours. House staff members were taking them to temporary quarters to rest after traveling, in some cases across the country. The girls weren’t given much information as to what the test would involve, though most of them were seasoned enough to take a guess.
In a separate office Alexis was putting the final touches on the room to get ready for examinations. She’d rounded up a group of willing male testers, not that it was that difficult to find volunteers. Just difficult to find ones that could keep their mouths shut. Each one would help with a different girl. When the room was ready, she walked over to the mirror, fixed up her outfit and put on her best boss persona and signaled for the first woman to be brought in.
The young redhead made her way to the room, then paused at the door and took a deep breath. Her right hand came to rest upon her swollen tummy, seven months along, reminding her of why she was here. Tammy took one more breath, then stepped into the room, mint eyes falling immediately upon the woman seated upon the desk. Instantly she felt under dressed, the woman was in a skirt and button up blouse, while Tammy was in a loose pair of sweatpants and t-shirt, not that her budget would have allowed her to purchase dressier clothes. Nor did her budget really allow for her to afford much at all, having been unable to work as hard and as long as she used to. There was hope though, and it was sitting on the smooth, dark stained, wooden desk.
“Please, have a seat on the couch. Wouldn’t want you to strain too much,” Alexis gestured towards the blue couch across from her.
“Thank you Mistress.” Tammy took the offered seat on the couch, adjusting to get as comfortable as possible. Those mint eyes never left the woman, watching, waiting to see what sort of interview this would be. Her previous pimp had simply hit her hard enough to knock her down, threatened her life if she left, and told her how much she was expected to bring in every day. This place didn’t seem quite like that, at least they mostly likely wouldn’t hit her that hard. But looks were often deceiving.
Alexis nodded slightly at the term used to address her. “Well I’m not much on flowery words or long speeches. I am Ms. Alexis Pryde, you may call me Mistress Alexis, or simply Mistress as you’ve already started to. This business that I am starting up to serve those who are into pregnant women. For now it’s simply to enjoy already pregnant women, though I am making plans to incorporate a breeding program for couples who desire a child. In exchange for this, the women get to live here instead of on the streets. You will receive 3 square meals a day, a clothing allowance, spending money, and if you choose to use it, access to an online education program. Your birthing expenses will be taken care of, as well as convalescing time. With me so far?”
Tammy nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, Mistress Alexis.”
“Good,” Alexis had a little smile on her lips, the terms were better than most of the girls should have even hoped for. “The clientele here will generally be of a higher quality than your average Joe on the streets. Lord knows I’ll be charging enough. In return though they expect only the best and for most of their whims to be tended to. There will be, of course the standard expectations of head, vaginal and anal intercourse, and breast fucking. Some will want to sample your breast milk and while you’re pregnant many will want to leave you with a creampie. Your clients will most likely be male and female, particularly if you remained on as a breeder but that will be discussed another time, should you pass the exam and remain on my staff Does this sound like something that would interest you?”
Honestly it wasn’t like Tammy felt she had a major choice in the matter, at least as far as whoring herself while pregnant. Being a breeder, well, at least she wasn’t having to make that decision for now. Rubbing her stomach lightly, her eyes lifted to the womans’ while her head nodded slightly.
“Yes, it would.”
“Then let’s not waste any more time,” Alexis slid off of the desk and glanced over at a blue curtain. “You can come out of there now, Jason.”
Tammy glanced over as the curtain parted to the side and a nude man came walking into the room. She glanced him over then turned her attention towards Alexis.
“I presume that you wish a demonstration,” she asked simply.
Alexis nodded at her, “yes, nothing overly ambitious is expected. However, I do need to be able to see that you’ll be able to satisfy someone who is capable of getting sex beyond a whore off the streets. I don’t recommend any fancy porn moves but be sure to please him as he’ll be the one grading your performance.”
Tammy offered a smile to the man, “pleased to meet you.” Her eyes followed him as he walked over, pleased to note that his pubic hair was trimmed and that he had a pleasant smell wafting from him. This was already much better than her previous employer.
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A couple hundred feet he found the dean leaned against one of the brick pillars of the smoke pad, puffing away on a vape pen. Levi gave her a slight nod of his head as he passed by.
“Not going to sign up?” she asked with a soft chuckle.
“Nah, looks like you have plenty of volunteers.”
Dean Wright let out a loud sigh at that. “Plenty of kids with the look of a predator flashing in their eyes. No thank you, they’ll get weeded out as best as we can.”
“So, you noticed,” he paused, making it more of a statement than a question.
“Hard not to. Not that we didn’t expect it.” She gave a little shrug and blew out a long puff of vape. “It just is what it is. There will be enough tests to hopefully weed out the bulk of the problem ones. Mostly though, they’re looking for the exceptional ones. Either highly intelligent and high performing, or returning adults like yourself. Some life experience, old enough to be more mature about this, and more likely to not suddenly up and leave.”
He grunted at the last remark and shook his head lightly. “And thus is revealed what you’re really looking for.”
“True. The question though, is what are you looking for? Did you even look at the offer?”
“No point. The government’s already shown me how little they care to make a reasonable offer. Or how little they care to respect offers made.”
“Spoken like a soldier.” She gave a mock sigh of frustration. “I suppose you wouldn’t want a scholarly life anyways. Books instead of guns. Computers over muddy sleeping bags. Sandwiches in a library instead of a pork chop doing the backstroke in rainwater.”
He snorted a little.
“Just think about it!” Dean Wright called as he began to walk away. She took another drag on the vape pen and watched the vape fade into the atmosphere, already knowing what the answer would be. Those who had the intentions for grad school knew that funding was hard to come by. Someone had actually thought this one somewhat through. Or at least, knew how to entice those they wanted.
Levi let out a little sigh as he sat upon the makeshift bed. There was a part of him that was still not convinced that this was a good idea. Still the thought of a quieter life than the one he’d led on the battlefield lingered, content to continue his studies, and perhaps even become somewhat of a scholar. That thought was the reason he found himself seated on the thin mattress.
“Every man has his price,” he muttered to himself as the door began to open.
“So, does every woman,” came the soft reply. Kerri stepped into the room and gently shut the door behind her. She was dressed like him, in a bathrobe tightly tied about the waistline. “You would think that they would at least let us meet first in street clothing.”
“After a few years in the military, well, I figured out it was best to not ever wonder as to the best way to do things. Rarely did they do it that way.” He shifted a little on the bed.
“Military,” she said quietly as she walked towards the bed and took a seat on the edge, “The War?”
“Mhmm. Network crypto so I spent most of my time behind lines, but not always.”
Kerri let herself slide a little closer to him on the bed. “Network crypto? So, computers?”
Levi gave her a short nod, his eyes drawn to the part in her robe. “Yes, led to my majoring in computer engineering. You?”
“Working on my masters in physics. Computer engineering? I can deal with that. At least it means you can work with math.” She paused when she realized how close she’d gotten to him. “I’m Kerri Mayweather, by the way. Nice to suck your…um, meet your acquaintance.” She smiled half sheepishly.
He couldn’t help it, the moan slipped out at that thought of her lips wrapped around his cock. His body was suddenly remembering what it was like to be near a woman for something other than battle or studies. “Nice to lick your…”
“Oh, tease. Suddenly reminds me it’s literally been years.”
“Years?” He blinked a couple of times. She wasn’t supermodel gorgeous, but tall and lithe, with her caramel skin revealing just enough tone to say it wasn’t just from diet. Her breasts, from what he could see past the robe, were perky and just about average in size.
“Uh, three I think. Hard to say, there was a one night stand two years ago, but I think he failed to perform. Too much alcohol left me with too sore a jaw trying to get him up.” She sighed.
“Mm, two years here. Just became a little less important.” He shrugged slightly. “Age or more interested in finally getting my degree.” A little smile played on his lips. “Got worried we might get dragged into another conflict and I wanted to be damned sure that if they were going to call me back that I could push for being an officer. Fuckers had much better quarters.”
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