He's Imprinted On My Soul

I was a mere freshman and a big ol' grad student dragged me off to his cave where he ravished me. It was in one hole and then the other and by the time the sun came up there wasn't anything left that was virgin. He hauled me by the hair and sat me on the toilet, brushed his teeth and loaded up his toothbrush and shoved it in my mouth and brushed my teeth for me. Picking me off the toilet by the hair he shoved me in the shower and got in after me. My head under water, he grabbed a washcloth and washed me down front and back and used his fingers to clean my butthole, which he later examined to make sure I didn't a stitch down there.

I was never that little girl after that, I went from girl to woman overnight in his hands and that's exactly how he liked it. Imprinting he called, he was going to imprint himself on me. I was hauled into his lair time and time again until I had my head screwed on straight and all I could see or hear was him. He would say "It's not called love, it's imprinting, like a baby imprints on her mom when she's nursing". I guess he figured that his dick in my mouth was equivalent to nursing.

But amongst us girls it is called falling in love, and it was obvious that I was one of those who fell for bad boys. I did the washing for him, it was my pleasure, he drew out of me all my nurturing instincts. He was going to work after he graduated and he wasn't sure he wanted to leave me, there were many bad actors there and he needed to keep his eyes on me. So I got married during the summer after my freshman year and followed him and finished nursing school and I went into pediatrics. My nurturing and maternal nerve was raw and nothing I did would calm it down.

"Damn girl, you sure you want to ger pregnant?" I lay back and let him impregnate me. I don't doubt that he is imprinted on me, but I call it love. And anyways he's in love too even if he thinks that's nonsense. Imprinting goes both ways.