Just a statement, though my publication schedule doesn’t reflect this. I’m acutely aware that I haven’t put out anything new in a while. That having been said, anyone into breeding does have to take into account that as you and your spouse add kids to this world, your responsibilities also increase.
I am blessed with a wife whose traditional outlook causes her preferred role to be as wife and mother, and for my part I focus on earning a paycheck, ensuring we’re financially comfortable, and handling whatever is best handled by testosterone. In the past, I addressed this by working insane numbers of hours at my corporate day job to secure promotions. It did work, but it came at the expense of my various hobbies – writing being one of them.
- Yes, I’m also in charge of brute force oriented household tasks, and killing anything that should need killed. Generally, my wife and I argue a lot about spiders – I am very much inclined to rehome them, and she would prefer to take off and nuke the site from orbit – it’s the only way to be sure.
In other news since my last update here, my family spent most of the covid-19 lockdown period at home, barely leaving the house. But, we still managed to get infected with covid due to unavoidable circumstances with the kids.
But now, fast-forwarding to the present – my fans will be pleased to note that I have joined in the Great Resignation of 2022… which sounds like people are leaving their jobs behind and quitting work. Nothing could be further from the truth amongst the folks I know. We’re all quitting our jobs at one giant corporation and taking better-paying jobs at other corporations because they’re all desperate to hire new talent, but none of them care enough about keeping their existing talent pool to pay them their replacement cost. We corporate types are mostly just playing a gigantic game of “Musical Chairs”, where we all change companies and then to replace us, our former employer have to offer new applicants an amount that we would’ve actually stayed for in the first place.
That’s the general direction of the IT workforce. My own personal direction has been to join a startup with a super work/life balance oriented culture, and now I have both a nice raise and the free time to write again.
I know I’ve proclaimed in the past that I’ll be getting back to writing, and to be fair I did for a while – before projects and deadlines started piling up and demanding all my free time. This time around, I’m not promising anything will get finished soon. Only that I’m writing again, and that the word count in my editor is going up dramatically.
For those interested in exactly what, I’ll share that I’m mostly working on “The Fallback Plan” right now. There’s some skullduggery afoot, no one can trust the machines, and the crew has reasons to distrust each other as well. I’m including a sample from what I’ve been working on lately.
= SAMPLE FROM The Fallback Plan, Chapter 6
Susan hushed the ship’s efforts to guide her to her quarters, preferring to rely on her own memory. As First Officer, she was among the handful of crew members important enough to have her own quarters. Besides her, the captain and various department heads had their own private quarters. It would be a while until enough colonists were born to force anyone to share quarters with other crew members, but once that happened it would be crammed. Susan palmed the door open to her quarters, and poked her head inside. The bed was rumpled and unmade, though she had distinctly remembered making the bed herself with her 70 year old hands before her brain was digitized for the voyage. She resolved to check the logs later on, and find out whether to blame Martinez or Reagan for entering her quarters. Regardless, she’d been brought here for a purpose, and that purpose was throbbing now, vibrating to remind her that she needed to use it.
She was still as nude as when she first awakened; she’d walked from med bay without stitch of fabric, or a second thought about it. As she knew she was the only one awake besides the doctor, she didn’t care. But now she was in her room, and it was time to walk through a familiar dance she’d performed thousands of times before. She stepped into the center of her room, where the mirror on her wall gave a full view of her nude form. She wasn’t exactly a virgin, but she honestly felt that the only person truly worthy to fuck Susan Cappelli was Susan Cappelli herself. She’d once hired a lookalike so that she could fuck herself, but it’d proven disappointing – she knew that any resemblance to her was only cosmetic.
In her original body, she’d earned a fair number of scars throughout the years of military service, and her new body had none of them. The scars weren’t why she’d never really had a consistent lover over the years – she’d spent her youth focusing on career and efficiency, and as youth faded, her drive never let up. One of the aspects she’d found appealing about this expedition was that since she was pretty close to the top of the colony’s career ladder, she had looked forward to spending several decades lustily fucking her way through a colony full of std-free playmates with perfectly formed bodies until there was enough of a planetary government to pursue further ladder-climbing. She ruefully observed that her original plans had involved tons of pregnancy-free sex, and had been replaced by the ship’s plans of tons of sex-free pregnancies.
She gave herself a quarter-turn one way, then the other, before she decided to pick up her mobile and take some pictures of her pre-pregnancy body. She knew pregnancies took a toll on bodies, and she wasn’t sure she trusted the ship to reconstruct her exactly back to where she was before. It would’ve been a shame to never be able to see this perfection again.
Once she felt she’d adequately documented her physical perfection, she decided to get down to business. She dropped her hand between her legs and started off by strumming her clit from a standing position, and the sensations nearly took her off her feet. She’d forgotten just how strong the sensations were when all of her nerves were at full capacity. She bent over a little but kept going, her eyes rolling up in her head as she let out a little gasp. Her pelvic region surged with a rush of heat and wetness, and within seconds she was aching for insertion. She picked up the probe from the table and looked her reflection in the eyes as she first slipped a finger inside herself, moaning slowly as she felt herself slicker and wetter than she could ever remember. She bucked her hips, enjoying her fingers deeper and deeper until she just needed something more. And that’s when the probe came into play.
She squatted a little, parting her legs to slip the probe’s head between her folds. She let out a gasp as she pushed it in a little farther with each thrust, her young body demanding more depth, more penetration. She stood up, relishing the pressure it put against her sides, and then laid down to finish. Susan was going for it now, stroking the probe in and out like an engine’s piston. She arced her hip just a little on the right, helping herself hit just the right spot… and her full first orgasm in her new body was mind-blowing. She just barely remembered to press the release button on the probe, and felt it spurt inside of her, filling her up like none of her male lovers ever had. Susan ground her hips hard against the probe, taking full advantage of the throbbing motion of the pumps to coax herself into … blackness. She knocked herself out.
Susan awoke to the ship’s computer informing her that it was time to report to med bay for nutrient injection. She dragged herself to her feet and cleaned herself off in the shower, then reached into the closet for the uniform she’d set out for herself. She pulled off its plastic cover, took one look at it and knew it wasn’t the same uniform she’d left. It was a standard service uniform, correct for her rank, but she’d put a few pins into the fabric that would’ve fallen out if someone had tampered with it. Cappelli was always suspicious of her crew, and took pains to ensure that no one could touch her things without discovery.
Annoyed, she demanded answers from the computer.
“No one has been in your quarters since launch, First Officer.”
Cappelli shook her head. “Someone’s been in here. This is not my original uniform, and someone’s been on my bed too.”
“My apologies. No human has been in your quarters, First Officer. When Engineer Martinez destroyed the genesis system, aerosol contamination required the replacement of all cloth items in several of the quarters, including yours.”
Susan sighed. “Well, one mystery down.”
She slipped on panties, then discovered that her bra didn’t fit as well as she’d have expected. Looking in the mirror, she realized that’s because her breasts were bigger than she’d ever seen them. She admired herself briefly, then threw on a tank top and her uniform jacket, leaving her unusable bra behind. To simplify things, she skipped her normal pants and opted for a uniform skirt she’d rarely had use for.
Walking down the hall to the med bay, she barked out, “Computer, fabricate new uniforms and underwear suitable for my entire pregnancy. I may not care if the doctor sees me naked, but as the ranking officer on this mission, I am wearing a proper uniform the whole time.”
The computer acknowledged with just a chirp.
Susan walked into med bay just after Kara finished her second nutrient injection. Intellectually, she’d known what had been going to happen, but walking in to see Kara’s first-trimester belly already replaced by a bulging, gravid second-trimester belly drove home what was going to happen to her in time. Her hand unconsciously went to her own belly as she thought about what awaited her.
“The computer says I need nutrients. What do I do?”
Kara explained the nutrient injection process, and Susan reacted with her usual enforce-the-pecking-order barbs. Annoyed, Kara answered the senior officer’s questions on how to self-administer the injection, and then stepped back and let the senior officer do it.
Susan slipped off her panties, but kept the rest of the uniform on and slid the probe up into her vagina. She was less interested in maintaining her decorum in front of Kara, than in determining how to preserve it once there were more crew members. She quickly realized that once the injection started, she had to grit her teeth to maintain composure as the probe stimulated her to the point of orgasm. The uniform jacket she’d refused to take off became constrictive, and she unzipped it and breathed a sigh of relief. This made her choice to skip the bra obvious, her erect nipples visible as the nutrient solution continued to pump into her.
By the time she took the probe out a few minutes later, Susan looked down at her belly and saw that she looked 5 months pregnant, while Kara now looked 7 months along.
Susan walked back to her quarters, getting used to her new center of gravity. The mirror confirmed everything she’d felt, and the stretch marks already beginning to cross her belly were the final straw.
“I’m not doing this,” she hissed. “Not over and over again. I’m not a breeding cow. The rest of the crew can do that, but not me. I am going to win.”
Her hands caressed her swollen midriff. “But unfortunately, first I’m going to need an inner circle. And I know how I’ll have to get them.”
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