Prologue:
The medical staff at Carlton Memorial Hospital was baffled by sudden increase of reported pregnancies. It was a real puzzling case, one that had the entire staff up in arms. There were many odd factors involved; factors that were just too uncanny to be considered anything but a normal coincidence.
Over fourteen pregnancies had been reported already, all within a two-week period, and there was more filtering in every day. Most were local women, but there was quite a number from neighboring towns as well. The whole area seemed to have been affected by a sudden rash of sexual activity. Local MD’s were swamped with women who claimed they thought they were pregnant. Tests confirmed that they indeed were although none knew how that was possible. They were all unexplainably hysteric and highly agitated.
The primary factor was that not one of the pregnant women was under the age of thirty-eight, the oldest being a whopping forty-seven. All women were well into their third month, give or take a few days. It was very strange that over a dozen women had all been impregnated within a week or two of each other. Many questions arose. Why was there a sudden increase in middle-age sexual activity? Why only middle-aged women? Five of the cases were women who were close to having their menstrual cycle cease forever and their pregnancies was a one in a million fluke; the forty-seven-year old hadn’t had it in two years and nobody could explain that one at all! It defied all laws of science.
The second puzzling factor---by many considered the primary and most alarming concern---was that none of the women were able to identify the father. Although all were married (with the exception of two: one was divorced and the other a widow) most claimed to have not been sexually active during quite some time. The widow claimed that she hadn’t been with a man since her husband’s death ten years ago. The divorced lady maintained that although she had been dating, she had not slept with any of her dates. The rest of them shyly admitted that their husbands had lost interest in them; or that their respective husbands were either shooting blanks or had a vasectomy. Either way: having become pregnant was unexplainable. It was extremely nerve racking and the women were all highly agitated. It was just unbelievable!
Medical tests were made. Nothing out of the ordinary was discovered except the fact that all had rather stretched vaginal walls. The women naturally had no idea. They all admitted to have experienced a slight pain the last few weeks---some even claimed having had difficulties walking for awhile---yet none could explain why. All were certainly confused and very shocked. The team of specialized psychologists who spent several hours with the pregnant women came up empty handed. The entire town was baffled. All except one man.
This is his story:
My name is Eric Braddock and I’m a twenty-two year-old college graduate. My friends and I had just graduated from Riley’s College and the ceremonies were scheduled there for tomorrow. The last term papers had been graded; the graduating students had been posted and the long stretch was finally over. Dad was over in Harmony Heights signing some business deals and wasn’t supposed to be back until late this evening and my mom was out grocery shopping. I had the house to myself. It was time to lie back and relax.
Which I was doing. I was home alone and lying on my bed. I had just taken a shower and was lying half-naked with my bathrobe partially wrapped around me, the cool breeze from the open window making the hairs on my chest flutter. I was deeply engrossed in one of my favorite books, a big leather-bound monstrosity the size of an atlas. It was so heavy that the bottom edge was digging a trench in my belly button. It was a gothic thing, the leather covers etched with embossed diagrams depicting medieval dioramas. It was a book that went through the history of witchcraft, demons and the like, and all things unexplainable.
I was studying the chapter on the gift of the evil eye, my favorite chapter. For weeks now I had been reading about this particular subject. According to the author, which by the way was by some 15th century dude called Edmund Jonas Lysterman, this was not a demonic gift but a highly psychological art form that could be learnt by anyone serious enough to believe in it. If practiced properly, it was supposed to be some form of hypnotic gaze that would make the recipient docile and subject to suggestion. All one had to do was to gaze deeply into the other person’s eyes and hold the gaze for five seconds or more without blinking. During the last three seconds of the gaze one was to form a mental image or phrase a mental sentence/order which the recipient was to act upon.
I had been working on this the last few weeks. Purely for kicks. I had practiced on the dog and the kid next door, all to no avail. Perhaps I didn’t understand it properly or perhaps my mental powers were too weak. Perhaps one needed a larger cranium or more brain cells to pull this kind of shit off. Edmund Jonas Lysterman maintained that it would only work during certain circumstances. Certain criteria had to be met. Which fucking criteria? Which circumstances? The asshole didn’t stipulate. All he said was that in order for the evil eye to take effect that one had to really focus. Channel your thoughts, it said. Concentrate and you will rejoice in its power.
Okay. Focus on what? With a frown I flipped through the pages and came across a picture of some white-robed priest or whatever bending over the body of a naked woman She was no spring chicken; that was for sure. She seemed old and flabby and I studied the caption with interest. “The deflowering of Mother Superior Abigail by the Bishop of Ravensport, ca 1477. Numerous rituals like these were often practiced by perverse priests and monks who claimed they were God’s messenger.” The woman was tied down, legs spread wide, apparently screaming like mad. Hmmm, kinky. I swept the robe apart and reached for my cock. It had already sprung to attention.
