Seventeen (Ch. 1)

    "Are you really going to do it?" asked Roberta, Gwen's friend.  "You're so big!" "Yup..." replied Gwen, with a smile under her dark sunglasses as the two women lay back on lounge chairs. "At eight months and one week for this one!" Roberta just stared in amazement in the direction of the innocent being who's time was about to abruptly and violently end. "The child looks so safe in there." she thought to herself.  She then looked up at Gwen as Gwen drank her marguerita. They had been friends in high school, and now, twelve years later, had run into eachother by co-incidence in Tampico, Mexico.
    "Have you had any before?" asked Roberta. Gwen smiled demurely and felt the baby kick. "Seventeen."she said, proudly, after a slight hesitation. "Seventeen?" gulped Roberta, as she looked around nervously to see if anyone had heard. She whispered, aghast, "I didn't know that anyone could have that many abortions!" "Well." said Gwen calmly, on the sun-drenched patio, "I wouldn't suggest it if you mean surgical abortion..."
    She was really enjoying herself on this vacation (maternity leave).
   "I..." started Roberta, looking around again at the Mexicans nearby. "I didn't know there was any other kind!" she whispered emphatically. She waited for Gwen to offer information, but when Gwen just raised her face to the sun, soaking it in, Roberta asked, "How do you kill your children then?" Gwen smiled big in her black bikini, looking down at the enormous, living bulge obscuring her sexy panty. "My doctor uses hypnotic techniques, Roberta." she stated, searching her friend's eyes for any type of comprehension.
   "It's a special type of hypnosis, actually.  She trains and hypnotises me throughout the pregnancy and it is I who hypnotise the baby. It's easy, as long as you have and keep the trust of the child. I can make mine do anything; laugh, cry, wet, take a shit, I can make him sick, flip over, go to sleep..." Roberta was dazzled. She had never heard a person speak in so cavalier-a-fashion about murdering their children, let alone enjoying it! Her clit rose as she considered the captive child whom she could not help.., even if she had wanted to. She swung her legs out, sat up and leaned forward, touching Gwen's thigh. 
    "You just give it a command and the baby spontaneously aborts?" She continued staring at Gwen's distended belly glistening with sun-block. "Well, no..." replied Gwen, humorously. "It's not that simple! There's always a fight between mommy and baby.., but that's where all the fun is!" "Is it a he or a she?" asked Roberta, her eyes sparkling into Gwen's. "It's a he..." replied Gwen. Roberta placed one of her palms on Gwen's taut abdomen, and as she stroked it, wondered if the boy's penis could feel it and if it was becoming erect. "Yes." she said, her voice trembling a bit from excitement.  "I'm sure baby boy does not want to go bye bye!" They both laughed. 
   "Why did you wait so.., you know.., long?" asked Roberta, at the same time admiring the beauty of the huge orb in front of her, protruding from underneath Gwen's breasts.  Roberta felt a perverse amusement to think that the child was so very close to his mother's breasts, but would never taste their milk. She was glad about it, even though she didn't know why. "Two reasons." Gwen replied, taking a sip of her drink (her second marguerita), then placing it down and lighting a cigarette. "One is because I want to spend as much 'quality time' as possible with my little man. And two is because the older and bigger they get, the harder they fight you to stay alive during their ordeal."  Roberta was shocked, but giggled, putting a hand over her mouth. "I think I'll order a drink now myself!" she said. They both chuckled.
  So tell me all about it!" Roberta spouted, crowding close to her old friend whom she had a newfound respect for as a vehicle of life and death. "Well..," began Gwen, wishing she could ask Roberta to straddle her and bounce a little on her tummy to induce pain to the fetus.  "We use large crystals to empower and direct our thought and feeling energy into the womb. We use chanting, too. It creates a rythym which I internalize and it turns into contractions, eventually. There is absolutely no pain. It is an incredible experience. You go into an altered state of consciousness." So there are other people involved?" asked her friend.  "Yes. Usually." said Gwen. "There have been as many as six chanting over me." "So the baby is born alive?" she asked. "No, honey." said the eight-months pregnant woman. "Not usually. We frighten the child to death in the womb." Gwen had Roberta almost completely under her spell, now, and Roberta, upon hearing this, almost burst out laughing. "You should see how much baby shit is in the amnion, afterward..!" commented Gwen. 
  Roberta wished she could get her hands on her pie and masturbate as Gwen was telling her all this. "One of my children was aborted alive, though." Gwen stated. "It happens once in a while." She smiled and kissed Roberta's hand. "I'll tell you what we do with the crystals." Gwen offered, "We position them on and direct their energy into my first and third chakras. Do you know about the energy centers?" "Yes" nodded Roberta.  "Like I said, I train throughout my pregnancies, and once I have sent the child increasingly dark energy at the abortion, and poked and prodded him with "psychic knives", we close off and shut down the energy connections between baby and me. The child goes wild with panic." (Both women's clitoris were standing on end). 
     The abortionist and I send energy through the crystals that attack the child from two different directions. We send thought-forms of snakes, dragons, spiders.., little devils with pitchforks...The baby flails and twists and kicks and screams. You should see my stomach!" laughed Gwen. "You mean you can see the baby writhing from the outside?" "You sure can..." said Gwen, crushing her cigarette and giving her belly a hard slap. Gwen always knew just how much pain her babies could take, and knew that this one had had a very easy morning. She rose, and said, "The abortion is on Sunday. Would you like me to see if I can get you in to attend the murder of my little boy?" Her nipples were so hard that they hurt. Everyone could see them, through the black material. Roberta gulped, her  eyes wide and starry as they took in the sight of a sweet, unborn infant, god's most blessed gift to the world, trapped in a prison which he called "mommy" and who's only sin was being conceived in the wrong place at the wrong time. 
   "Yes, Roberta replied resolutely. "I'd like that very much."
     She actually orgasmed as she said that.