The Shaman's Baby Machine

By JM Ross

Rachael was given a total hysterectomy by an incompetent surgeon several years ago. Her entire life as a woman was taken away from her. She felt empty, like a shell of a human and unable to make love without pain. Added to that, she has intermittent cramps that would double her up.
She volunteered to go with the Red Cross helping victims of a tropical storm in the Philippines.
There, she encountered a shaman and two incredibly handsome men and her life shifted in very interesting directions.
Also...You may enjoy my new video.
I hope you like.
Love.
JM.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ross Publishing
• Release date: Dec 8, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311243775

JM Ross

I love it when my protagonist finds her body contending with an intimate partner or a force that will change her forever. What is she thinking as she looses control of her sexual desires or her body or both? Did she want this to happen? Has it gone too far? Does she like it? How will it end? Will it end? The line between fantasy and reality is sometimes so very, very thin and I adore stepping into fantasy and staying there as long as I can. Love JM PS... If you'd like to see what's coming, click on favorites and Smashwords will keep you updated.

Book preview

The Shaman's Baby Machine

Smashwords Edition

by JM Ross

Copyright 2015

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. It may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this ebook with other people, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. This ebook remains the copyrighted property of the author and may not be reproduced, scanned, or distributed for any commercial or non-commercial purpose without direct permission from the author.

This ebook is a work of fiction and the characters are purely productions of the author's imagination and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. All characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.

Adult Reading Material

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I hope you enjoy.

Love

JM

~~~~

The Shaman's Baby Machine

by JM Ross

Prolog:

I want to feel a man, strong and handsome, move over me. I want to feel his strength and sense his weaknesses. I want to touch his giant phallus... No... Forget that word. I want to feel his giant cock push far into me and consume me and push so deep inside me that I have to gasp for breath, and that he's using every fiber of my body and all I can do is moan in ecstasy as he takes me over and over, and my sexual temperature rises beyond the boiling point.

I want to feel him loose his hot seed deep inside me and make me his property. I want to know that his blistering fertile essence is moving deep into me and impregnating me, changing my body in ways that can never be undone.

I want to feel my belly swell and become large and tight, and stretching me to my limits.

All this would happen because I once loved a man.

Without this, I am null.

But in fifteen minutes, a selfish doctor took everything away from me and I became nothing, a non-person.

Yet, there might be hope...

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Chapter 1

Some years back. On a plane crossing the Pacific...

I don't want to talk about it. Every time I think about the last four years, I get depressed. The damn psychiatrist kept talking in circles about living with the way things are now.

Ya... Ya... Bull!

But, here I was with twenty other Red Cross nurses flying to the Philippines. It was now two months after the typhoon Ilene had hit and so many people continued to suffer. So I volunteered to go to help. I had nothing else to do and I thought that maybe I could loose myself by helping others. Regardless of what the supervisors try to say, I'll spend as much time with the needy children as I can. That's probably the closest I'll ever get to caring for children, considering these past four years.

Inadvertently, my hand found its' way to my middle, exploring the huge scar where they cut me open and took out my future. My hand does that far too often.

Would you like another drink, the flight attendant asked.

I nodded and held up my glass for my forth vodka martini. Vodka helps keep the memories at bay. But then another cramp hit and I held my body rigid, waiting for it to pass. Can't let the others see this. Otherwise, I'd find myself on a flight home. The doctors had said that the cramps would pass with time. But they haven't. And, these were the same doctors that had fucked up my insides in the first place. So, who knows?

Three hours later...

We landed in Manila. What a place. Never been out of the US before. Our supervisor hustled us through customs and two hours later, we were in a string of little microbuses and moving through the city. The streets were crowded with odd little cars and motorcycles and bicycles; horns blaring and people weaving in and out of traffic and there we were, secure in our little cocoon buses; the next batch of volunteers to go into the country side to try to help the suffering in the outlying areas.

We were all exhausted. Long flight. Lousy food. Time zones. Finally the bus pulled into a compound with a huge Red Cross at the gate. I was able to shower and eat and lie down. But then another cramp doubled me up.

Recently, someone had said that I was having another return of my fibroids. But somehow, I just couldn't believe that. No, not after everything the surgeons had done to me.

Someone else suggested another exploratory operation. Well, fuck that shit! Last time I let them near me, their exploratory turned into a total hysterectomy and destroyed my dreams for my future. No! Never again! Never! Never! Never! And there's more to this but I just can't go into it right now. Way too stressful.

Early the next morning, we hit the road again. This time moving into the back country in old World War II jeeps. We split off in four directions with three groups going to flood areas near the sea and the forth moving up into the highlands where many of the children had been sent. With a little fast talking, I managed to find my way into this last group.

The roads turned to dirt and then became badly rutted. Each rut was filled with muddy water making it impossible to judge how deep it was. Six hours later, we entered a camp of three hundred children ranging from two months to thirteen years old. Food