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.