||[Mar. 15th, 2006|09:18 pm]
Dear childfree_bs Letters, |
I'm a childfree student at a small midwestern college, and I never thought I'd be writing this. I always thought that these stories of cuntnuggets and their breeders were total exaggerations, but boy, was I wrong!
I was walking across campus last spring, my perky 34Ds bouncing unfettered beneath my thin, tight t-shirt. I had been going a bit fast, bringing a slight sheen of sweat across my upper lip, and causing moisture to trickle down the warm crevice of my cleavage. My lithe, tanned legs moved quickly under my mini-skirt, as I was about to be late for my private tutoring lesson in human sexuality. My tutor, Dr. Rod Cannon, had a teaching style that was intimate and thorough. I enjoyed every moment of our sessions together. However, I longed for "more", and made my interest plain. So far, he had failed to pick up on my little hints, but I knew it was only a matter of time before he realized that my constant lack of underwear was a special message meant just for him.
As I approached the psychology building, my scholarly thoughts were broken by a most annoying sound emanating from its ivy-covered walls: the sound of a crotchdropping screaming at the top of its lungs! I recoiled in horror, but forced myself to go on. Chances are, it was only an echo from the parking lot nearby. However, as I entered the building, the sound of rugrat shrieks grew louder and louder, and my nausea and dismay grew along with them. My heart started to pound, and my breasts to heave, my nipples straining against my thin, tight t-shirt as I struggled to control my breathing. I approached the door to Dr. Cannon's office, thighs trembling. My tongue darted out to moisten my parched lips. My taut buttocks ached in fear. The sound was coming from the room!
Taking a deep breath; a movement which threatened to shred the tissue of my thin, tight t-shirt with the swelling of my breasts, I pushed open the door. There, in the middle of the room, was Dr. Rod Cannon, holding a BABY on his lap, while two other cuntnuggets danced around him, pulling on his tweed jacket.
"Daddy! Daddy!" Snotleigh and Bratleigh screamed. "Daddy!"
DADDY?? I was horrified. My fantasies of academic passion crumbled. Dr. Rod Cannon was...a BREEDER! A duh! A sperm donor! He had semon demons--three of them! He touched them WILLINGLY! And he seemed to like it!
"Hello, Candy," he said. "I'd like you to meet my children."
What the fuck??? I wasn't going to stick around and be insulted like that! Breasts tumbling, I spun around and fled. I ran out of the building, sobbing in disgust, leaving behind my dreams of private, intimate tutoring with "Dr. Duhd, PhD".
I had to drop out of school, of course, and start wearing underwear again. The trauma was of this experience was just too great. My breasts may never recover.
Iowa City, IA