Prologue--Chastity

            Panting heavily with exertion, Chasity plodded as quickly as possible down the nearly deserted sidewalk.  She almost tripped several times on the raised corners of uneven and cracked cement blocks, but ignored the discomfort the sudden jolts brought to her swollen abdomen in her haste to flee the maddened voice that chased after her.

 

"Chasity, wait!  You must listen to me," the rather average sounding voice pleaded with her as its owner hurried after her, already clutching his side and limping from a sudden stitch--office work really didn't prepare one for physical activity.

 

She kept her gaze locked stubbornly ahead, past the swaying locks of greasy black hair that hung down, and nearly abandoned her broken-down dollar store sandal when it hesitated for a moment in a patch of drying mud.  Her pant-cuffs were dragging, already soaked and grimy feeling whenever they slapped her ankles, and the back of her oversized flannel shirt was soaked with sweat; she sorely wanted a shower--so she was not in the mood for any further inconveniences.  Cupping her hands beneath her hanging belly to secure it, she gritted her teeth and fought to push past exhaustion and annoying voices.

 

"Chasity!  I know you can hear me!"  His cries were broken now by deep coughs and gasping breaths as he stopped and sought to reach her merely by voice now.  "Come back!  You can't possibly be pregnant, I told you!  There might be something seriously wrong!  You need to be treated!  Chasity?  Chasity!"  His cries faded as if the mist, now gathering to embrace the night, sought to smother it for her comfort. 

            This thought brought a slight smile to her lips, which quickly faded as his last calling of her name hung in the air.  Chasity.  Chasity.  She almost wanted to laugh.  "Pure one," it meant, said her mother, "my pure little girl, undefiled, oh so clean," all the while with a smile on her face.  She was quite sure her mother could not have possibly seen into the future when she picked the name.  But then, who could have envisioned their child becoming this.  A homeless vagabond by choice, valuing hidden pleasures above the base needs of life, and weighed down heavily with a child that no one on the face of the earth could possibly claim.  Oh, sure, all of the tests and examinations said the same thing: that her mother was right when she named her.  She was pure, untainted, a homeless little virgin girl, but a virgin nonetheless.  But Chasity knew better, if she thought to, she could tell anyone that she was quite the opposite of pure, and that she just didn't care anymore.  Besides, what kind of moron could look at the swollen melon protruding behind her navel and making war on her spine and say that she was anything but pregnant?  Sure, there might have been tumors that size, she supposed, and that was probably what the good doctor back there thought it was, but he wasn't living in this body, was he?  He couldn't feel it inside of her, moving, kicking; but she could, and who cared if the ultrasound had found not a trace of a living being.

            Too frustrating, too much on her mind; she didn't need this right now.  She was hot, sweaty, sticky--just plain miserable--and she really needed a shower.  Pausing momentarily, she looked around cautiously to be sure that no one was around, and was relieved to find that all was how it should be; it was late and not a soul was in sight.  Quickly, before someone could come upon her, she ducked into an alley to her right; the one that she knew would lead her to a back entrance of her old high school.  Chastity found the old metal door with ease; it had been less than a year since she'd graduated, but she was surprised to find the door still rusted with badly peeling paint.  It was in such bad shape that she popped the lock easily--they must not worry about students breaking back into their old haunting grounds.  The hall behind it led straight to the gym, and from there her goal: the locker rooms.

 

            Chasity kicked her muddy clothing aside, deciding to wash them later, and sighed with relief as the hot water poured over her, steam teasing open her pores and sending a shiver through her whole body.  Closing her eyes, she tilted her head back and let the water simply wash over her for one long, relaxing moment before she set to furiously scrubbing at herself with wetted palms.  She fiercely clawed her fingers through her hair, getting as much dirt out as she possibly could without shampoo and kneading her scalp for a good bit before doing the same to her face, ears, and neck.  She paid special attention to her armpits and beneath her breasts, reflecting in annoyance on how she seemed to sweat more with every passing day of her belly's growth.  For a brief moment she slowed her quick ministrations to gently run her fingers over her stomach, staring at the mass all the while; but then she quickly moved on, pushing her thoughts away from the thing--she'd never cared much about it, to be honest.  But her mind wouldn't let the subject rest as she continued her cleaning, and she began to wonder what she would do with the thing when it was born, assuming it was human.

            Yes, that was the thing.  It didn't have a human father, at least as far as she knew; so she had no idea what it would look like.  If it was like he who had impregnated her, she assumed he'd gladly take it away; but if it was remotely human, what would she do with it, then?  She frowned in annoyance, and then in concern as pain suddenly lanced through her abdomen, pushing her back against the shower stall. 

            The memory flashed through her, of that first time in here, the one that started it all; being pushed back against this metal barrier not by pain, but by a barely tangible force...and indescribable pleasure.  Oh, how frightened she had been, but that had soon melted away; there must have been a choice somewhere, to give in or run away, and she had chosen—she’d given in.  Since then she'd come again and again to the school after hours, when not even the janitor was there, just to come back to this stall.  Every invisible caress, forceful thrust, and mind-blowing orgasm was fresh in her mind—even though she was sure that not a day had passed for the last nine months when she had not given herself over completely to this pleasure, and quite a few times to be sure.  How she wished she had not missed the past three days while that horrid doctor kept her away, and now she wished it would come again, to replace this pain with pleasure.  She didn't care what happened to her, or the baby for that matter; all that mattered was that feeling--she'd given up her entire life for it, and she didn't want to be without it now.

            But her desire was denied as, once again, pain instead of pleasure rocked her back against the wall and then brought her to the cold tile floor.  Chastity cried out, clutched her swollen belly, and then fell into silent awe as she looked down and spotted the flow of blood creeping across the floor from betwixt her legs.  Finally, the awe subsided, swept along by the pain, and she screamed and wept.  The sound of the stall door opening was what, at last, interrupted her.  In stepped the strange nurse she'd met at the hospital who, whenever the doctors were gone, would whisper to her that she knew the truth and that all would be fine once the baby was gone—she had been the one to help her finally escape that place.  And now here she was, smiling kindly down at her, kneeling, and brushing the hair from her face.

 

"Now, now," she whispered, clasping her hand and pressing something firmly into her palm.  "It's almost done."  She closed Chasity's fingers around the object; she felt the slight prick of thorns against her skin and then the pain just...faded.  A mere hint of the pleasure she'd been experiencing swept through her, her eyes slid closed, and she just drifted away.  She woke to the wails of an infant, desperately squeezing the thing in her palm in the hope that it would help her escape again, but it didn’t.  Weeping with the force of her withdrawal, she looked down to find that the mound was gone; she looked like she had never been pregnant at all.  But now she was draped in a white gown.  Finally, she looked up, and found the familiar black cloud above her.  My savior, she thought desperately, he's returned to me.  He was holding her baby, and beside him stood the nurse.  She reached out pleadingly to him, anxious to feel his caresses again; the nurse shook her head, warning her, but she didn’t care.

 

"Please...please...give it to me..." she pleaded.  “I need it. I don’t care if I die, just give it to me.”

 

The nurse shook her head then, and faded from view.  The thing laughed and drew together, seeming to consume her child and then slowly disappear; but just as it seemed he would vanish from sight, part of the cloud broke off and swarmed about her.  Her body spasmed with the force of the pleasure and as the intensity of it stole away her consciousness, her hand opened up, and the blood-tipped chestnut rolled from her palm.