Wood Spirit

November 20, 1754

My womb is swollen, and I know I am full of the entity's seed in spite of it's children sucking me dry of it after each brutal bout of intercourse. The days grow shorter, the nights longer - and I am still captive in my cabin though not because of my phantom lover. I am chained here by it's children, who coax me from sleep with gentle suckling on my breasts and sex, untiI I shudder through my release.

The entity does not stay here now. I know not where it wanders, but I know it comes and goes from the cabin - sometimes staying to feed me it's cock and fill my belly as it filled my womb with it's seed.

I can suspect where it is - I hear the cries of pleasure from the forest near the cabin, I have seen the disheveled female natives who leave gifts at my door, their torn dresses.

I cannot help but grow jealous and my sex clenches in desperate need for my phantom to fill me with his immense cock.

I am a wanton to a spirit that hunted and now haunts me with memory of it's rough lovemaking, the joy of having my cunt owned by it a memory since I stopped my courses.

I rub my hand lightly over my growing belly and wonder when the babe will be born, and what it will look like when it is even as I open my legs for the smaller entities to service me with their mouths again.

December, 1754

I do not know what day it is. I woke this morning to an ache in my stomach that left me gasping for air. I think it is too early for the babe to come, but I am not certain. I have never been coached in matters of the marriage bed let alone the fruits of it, so I cannot be certain.

I write this now because I do not know how long I will last. I do not know how much more pain my heart can take.

I felt the small phantoms all around me. The ones who were not massaging my lower back and rubbing my legs to soothe me were suckling my breasts, encouraging my milk to come.

Outside, it is dark and cold and the snow has begun to swirl up and under the oiled hide as the remainder of the phantoms move around the cabin - preparing for the birth I think.

I hear my lover's roar from the dark, forest and a woman scream in fright.

My heart tightens as if a huge fist is squeezing it and I swallow my jealousy as I have so many times before.

As if they can sense my heartbreak, the small phantoms gently pry my thighs open and stroke my sex. I feel small digits enter and stroke me, but it is nothing compared to the way my phantom can fill me.

I hear the woman in the dark forest let out a strangled whimper and I wonder if my lover is feeding her his cock as he fills her cunt. I begin to weep as another pain wracks my body. It stops my tears and makes me cry out as I double up to try and cocoon the pain with my body.

The cabin door is knocked wide open by a gust of wind and the fire dances in the hearth.

I let out a cry of joy as I sense my lover in the doorway and the smaller phantoms flee.

The door is slammed shut and it's presence fills the cabin with it's heat.

My wife. My mate.

"Yes." I whisper even as another pain wracks my body.

It bears me back on the bed with it's invisible presence, lifting and opening my thighs. I cry out happily as I feel the immense head poking at my entry and I wait for the piercing girth to fill me once more.

As another pain explodes through my body, it roughly shoves it's organ deep inside me, tapping at the entry to my womb as something deep within me breaks and I dowse the sheets and bed with fluid. I feel the small phantoms scramble forward to begin licking and sucking at the fecund smelling fluid and my lover buries himself within me to fill me full of it's seed even as result of it's last deposit slips free of my womb and I black out.

I did not see the babe, but I heard it's cries as it was swept from the cabin into the snow tossed storm beyond.

I am alone, the cabin empty of my lover and his children. The fire grows lower in the hearth, but I do not have the energy nor the willpower to stoke it now that my lover has left me.

I am bereft of everything in this world. No family, no husband, no friends, and now that I am no longer mate to the entity the natives call the great spirit, I have no way of feeding myself.

It is only a matter of time that I die, and for that I am thankful.