Over the turnings it is no longer a secret that I am with child. I suppose it is somewhat rare to see a slut with a collar about her throat with such a round tummy. It is just not done. Slaves simply never ever forget to drink their slave wine.  If they do they find themselves in the condition I am in, and it is taken care of by a physician. I don’t like to think on such things. In all honesty I am just too delicate of heart to have something like that done to me. It would do irreparable harm to my psyche, and I’m sure Agrippa, my Master, knows this. Sometimes I think he knows me better than I know myself. In fact I’m quite sure of it.

 In any case Agrippa, my beloved Master, has allowed me to keep the child; our child, but I never say those words to him. To him ‘it’ is just property. To me ‘she’ is so much more. My belly has grown round like a pumpkin, and my breasts have doubled in size. They still have their teardrop like shape, but I’ve noticed how much Master seems to be enjoying them. He likes to point out skinny blondes to me lately, and remark on how pretty they are. And in most cases, they are pretty. But, he pointed out one the other day that was just sadly only skin and bones. I could tell she was not a well fed slave, and felt sorry for her.

He doesn’t seem to understand that I love my curves, and plump heart-shaped derriere! I love the way parts of my body jiggle that in the past didn’t. The physician gives me jars, upon jars, of thick cocoanut scented ointment. She tells me to apply it to all the parts of my body that are growing at least three, if not four times a day. I swear on some days I feel like I’m one big butter nut squash that is about to be put on a spit squashed in between to vulos.

The most extraordinary thing has begun to happen. The baby is beginning to move inside me. At first it was just little flutters, but now if I press my hand to stomach I can feel her move. I swear I wanted to go running to some, anyone and tell them to put their hand on this spot so they could feel what I am feeling, but as I stood at the kitchen sink I remember there was no one there but me, and my beloved Master. I do so love the man, but I thought on how he might react. He had been quite grumpy lately, and I’m fairly positive that my condition doesn’t help the situation.