AI Era: Breeding Towers - Discipline

*All characters are 18+. This is a work of fiction for erotic entertainment only. Real-life sex should always be with enthusiastic consent.*

*This was written for bettiezyx's ""2023 AI: A New Era" Author Challenge.*

*This series can be read in any order.*

***

Year 100010100 (276 Age of Utopia)

276 years after the collapse of human government.

On the brink of another dark age, humanity turned to newly developed technology to solve their problems: AI.

It did.

The System now controls the world. The System decides who is allowed to breed.

—

Breeder Felicia M0164F, please report to the procreation level by 1400.

My fists clenched. Ignoring the twisting in my stomach, I stomped into the shower.

Procreation. They should just be honest and call it 'fucking'. Sex.

My first day in one of those rooms was awful. The System gave me a ten-minute introduction to my new life—lie still, be cooperative, don't have sex with anyone else, violent behavior was prohibited, mild pain may be expected on the first day... I hardly understood what was going on until it stopped rambling and a naked guy walked into the room. He'd just climbed on top of me, fucked me, and left.

The whole thing had taken maybe three minutes (after the rambling). I'd been too confused to do anything, and then it was over.

After I got back to my apartment, I was disgusted. Some guy I didn't know had just used my body. Of course, I knew what my purpose was in the breeding towers, but I thought it would be more procedural. Clinical. Other women who'd returned from the towers said the insemination process was quick and easy, and the rest of the time was fun.

That had not been fun. And I had to return every other day until I tested positive.

Two weeks later, I was done. Not pregnant—screw the System, I was done. There were plenty of women in the world, it didn't need me.

I stepped out of the shower, dried, and purposefully put my clothes back on. Walking into my bedroom, I turned on a show and ignored the reminder messages.

Breeder Felicia, please do not be late. Five minutes transit time—

"Shut up."

—is recommended. Is there a problem?

That was new. "Yes. I want to leave."

A few seconds passed.

You are designated for three offspring, barring medical complications. Your responsibility to the community—

"I don't care! I hate this place! Let me go!"

More silence. It didn't send any more messages.

After a few minutes, I grew a bit nervous. Despite all the System's great advancements, criminal activity still occurred. Every once in a while, we'd receive broadcasts of someone being caught and punished by the System's enforcement bots. But breeders were valuable. It wouldn't hurt me. Probably.

I watched my show. Maybe I shouldn't have let my temper get away from me like that. I could've planned an escape, searched for a way out. The towers were huge; there had to be an overlooked exit somewhere.

When I was chosen to be a breeder, my family and friends had thrown a party for me. I was as excited as they were. The towers! Everyone knew they had the best food, and every day was a fancy party. And, of course, it was the only way to have a kid. I didn't really care about kids one way or the other but I love luxury. It's a fault.

Now that I was here, I wanted out. I hated that my body was being used by these random men. Most of them were quick, but one guy grunted and panted for what felt like hours. I was sore that day. I sat in the bath and hated everything.

I couldn't do that again. They had to let me go.

A soft noise came from the hall. I paused the show and glanced out the door. That sounded like my front door opening.

There was a different noise, quiet and rhythmic. Like footsteps. I looked around for a weapon.

Taking my eyes off the door was a bad idea. In seconds, metal circled my wrists, waist, and feet, caging me tightly. A metal strap clamped over my mouth. I was pulled into a cushioned cylinder, then darkness descended as it closed behind me.

I screamed. It seemed muffled by the container. Everything jolted and began to move. I couldn't move. There was no space in there, and I was still bound. I screamed again and again, hoping someone would hear me.

My panic slowly wore off. The container came to a halt a few minutes later. It opened from behind and I was pulled out. The container rolled away.

I was in a small, dark room. There wasn't much here—a table with some weird objects on it, a chair, chains attached to the walls, and a dim light in the corner.

The chains hooked onto the metal around my ankles and yanked my legs apart. At the same time, my arms were tugged behind my back, then up, forcing me to bend over. I twisted and squirmed, rattling the chains.

Breeder Felicia, you have been assigned to room D205. Please stand still for the discipline process.

"Whmmm?! Mm-ngh!" This was insane!

Light briefly flooded the room. The door closed again. Feet appeared behind me.

"Hello, there. How are you?" The baritone voice came from a muscular, tall man who walked in front of me. His fingers stroked my face, tapping the metal over my mouth. "Ah. That's a pity. We'll work on that."

"Hngh! Mmnngh..." I yanked at my chains, watching him with wide eyes.

He picked up something from the table. Scissors. I went still as he dragged the flat of the blades along my skin and slowly cut my clothes off. The System wouldn't let him hurt me. No one had ever come back harmed.

That I knew of.

Cloth fell to the floor, piece by piece. I shivered as he cut my panties away, snipped at the straps and sides of my bra.

He set the scissors down.

My muscles relaxed slightly. He stepped behind me. Now he was going to fuck me. At least this insane ordeal would be over soon. My pussy was even tingling.

The air snapped. Pain licked up my spine. I shrieked, my back arching.

He'd hit me. The asshole had hit me. It felt like he'd used a belt on my ass, the burning sting gradually fading to a dull throb. I caught my breath and yelled muffled nonsense, twisting wildly. How dare he hit me?

"Be quiet." Smack. Fire lit the other ass cheek.

"Stand still." Snap. A line of pain across both cheeks at once.

I flinched and screamed, my muscles tensing at every lash. A soft wail left my throat when his warm hand rubbed my sore cheeks. He massaged the pain into a warm, almost pleasant sensation. I moaned.

"Good," he purred. "Good girl. Are you ready to cooperate?"

I inhaled and screamed as loud as I could, bucking my hips, hoping to ram him in the balls.

Pain ripped across the back of my thigh. The other. I gasped between strikes, barely able to breathe as he hit me again and again. Tears of pain broke from my eyes.

Then the leather smacked my pussy, and I let out a screaming moan.

That had hurt, but it had also sent a mind-numbing wave of pleasure crashing through my veins. My ass and thighs burned with pain, probably looked red and abused, but my pussy was feeling an entirely different kind of fire. My legs shook as he touched me again, gently rubbing all the places where he'd hit me. His hand moved up my thighs, massaged my ass, eventually cupping my mound.

My dripping, aching mound. I was impossibly wet, my pussy lips welcoming the heat of his hand, the pressure of his fingers. An embarrassing whimper fell from my mouth.

"That's better," he murmured. "Nod if you want me to stop hitting you."

While he rubbed circles on my pussy, the leather dragged up and down my spine. I nodded reluctantly, blinking away my blurry tears.

The leather disappeared. There was a smile in his voice when he said, "I'm glad we understand each other, princess."

I didn't have the energy to protest. I could scream all day; no one would help me. The System's silence was approval—this was my 'discipline'. It didn't make any sense. I just wanted him to fuck me and get it over with, let me soak in a bath, and plan my escape properly next time. Quietly.

So I was silent when he came around and took off the strap on my head. I kept my eyes lowered to avoid giving him a sullen glare.

There was a sound of a zipper in my face. He'd been fully clothed this entire time, just now taking out his cock. It was only semi-hard. I clenched my jaw, trying to decide if I was going to bite him when he fucked my mouth.

He lifted my chin and caught my eyes. I blinked into that intense gaze that promised pain, a chill going down my back. No biting, then.

He smiled. "My name is Damon, but you may call me Master or Sir."

His tone sounded kind right then. I swallowed. "I don't understand—"

He slapped me. It wasn't a gentle slap. Shocked, I was silent as he turned my head back and stroked my cheek.

"Don't speak out of turn. Your mouth isn't for talking unless I ask you a question." I had mistaken his tone earlier. It was more like a velvet-sheathed blade. I didn't move, didn't make a sound.

"Open."

My lips parted. He pushed the tip of his cock into my mouth, then stood still. A few moments passed. It occurred to me that he wanted me to do the work here. I was really tempted to bite.

His fingers threaded my hair and nudged the back of my head. A strip of leather rolled down my spine. In that velvet-steel voice, he said, "The spine is delicate. A lash in the wrong place, too hard, might damage you. Nothing the System couldn't fix, but you could be paralyzed for weeks."

Weeks unable to move while men used me nearly every day. I might lose my mind. I licked.

I stretched my neck and took his whole, limp dick in my mouth, sucking and licking eagerly. My jaw widened as it grew larger, pushing at the back of my throat, then soon enough I couldn't fit the entire length of him in my mouth anymore. Bobbing back and forth, I kept his shaft wet and wrapped in my lips, sliding my tongue along the underside.

My back twitched as he dragged the leather up and down my spine. I desperately sucked harder. His fingers twisted in my hair.

"Look at me."

He held my head still as he thrust into my mouth, staring intently into my eyes. I knew better than to look away.

His cock hardened in my mouth. Long and thick, I was only able to take about half of it before he was opening my throat. An ache began to develop in my jaw. I was slobbering all over his shaft, saliva dripping to the floor as he roughly used my mouth.

"Good girl, princess," he cooed as he fucked my face. "That's how a good girl sucks a cock. Don't you feel better now that you're doing what you're told?"

He pulled out, leaving me gasping and drooling. The leather slithered on my skin. I jerked a nod, my head falling as my back shivered. Anger boiled in my tense muscles. If I looked at him, he might see it. I gritted my teeth and stared at the ground.

Lightning raced up my back. I screamed both in terror and pain. But he hit my side, the back of my ribs I think. I yanked and twisted at the chains. This man was going to seriously injure me. The System wouldn't allow that. Would it?

Another lash on my other side. Blinding pain licked my skin. I struggled harder. The leather smacked my waist, flicking my stomach. My shoulder blades, left, then right. More lashes on my ass. My entire body burned.

When he finally stopped, I hung limp and twitching. Breathing hurt.

"Please..." I whispered.

His hand gently rubbed my ass, where he'd focused most of the strikes. "Shh, none of that. Don't ruin this, princess."

My throat was hoarse from screaming. I stayed quiet. His hand felt nice. His touch stung a bit in spots, but mostly it was warm and soothing. I leaned into it.

And realized how soaking wet my pussy was. I could see myself dripping, a few droplets already on the floor. He must be able to see it. I pulled away from his hand.

This lick from the leather was almost gentle.

"You belong to me."

I gasped. Another smack that barely hurt. It felt like a caress, just enough to tighten my ass and make my pussy spasm.

"You belong to me."

That one made me moan, a spark of pleasure pinching my clit and rushing through my chest. My ass bent back toward him. I wondered if he could make me come this way, just by hitting me.

His gently massaging hand returned and I melted into it, rubbing against it like a purring cat.

"Tell me what you want, princess."

What did he want to hear? His fingers strayed to my slick, puffy flesh. Of course.

My cracked voice begged, "Fuck... please fuck me. Sir... Please..."

His hand disappeared. The large head of his cock slid along my drenched slit. My back arched. He pressed himself to my opening.

"Be still, princess."

His cock spread me open. One firm thrust and he was buried inside me, splitting me apart with that thick shaft. I screamed again, both ecstasy and pain in my voice. It burned. It was exactly what I needed. It hurt so much.

I gasped. "Ah! Ah! Ohh, please... please, sir, can I come?!"

He chuckled. "Yes. Come. Come for me, princess."

My pussy clamped down, my body stiffening in my explosive release. Pleasure rippled my inner muscles as I tried so hard to milk every inch of his shaft. I needed his cum. I needed him to come inside me.

I cried as I came. I cried as he fucked me, hard, fast, and relentless. He dug his fingers into my bruised waist, more tears springing into my eyes. His cock rammed my cervix, bruising me inside and out.

I hated it. I needed it. I didn't stop crying with the pain and overwhelming sensations, my pussy spasming again and again as I wailed, as my body shook with the force of his lunging thrusts. He spanked me. He grabbed my tits and pinched my nipples while his cock plunged in and out.

"That's my good girl," he purred, punctuating his words with deep, rough slams. "Let it out. Let it all out and you'll feel so much better. This is what you're meant for. This is what you're made for. Say it. Tell me what you are."

I didn't know if I could talk. I tried.

"I-I'm... your... fucktoy, sir! Ahh!" More tears leaped into my eyes. More splashes of my pussy juices landed on the floor.

"That's right," he growled. His cock hammered me harder and faster. I tried to stay still for him, angling my hips so the full length of him could pound into me, his pelvis smacking my sore ass. Back and forth, again and again, it felt like he fucked me for hours. My legs cramped. I didn't care.

I wanted to beg and scream for him to rub my clit. I was afraid he'd hurt me just for my pathetic moans and gasping whimpers.

My pussy was an aching, sopping, throbbing mess that he fucked and fucked and fucked. When I felt like I couldn't take anymore, while I hung by my arms and my legs trembled with exhaustion, he finally spoke again.

"Ready for my cum, princess? Are you ready to carry my baby like a proper woman?"

A bubble of fear and anger rose in my chest, somehow surfacing past my exhaustion and pleasure-numbed mind. I didn't want a baby, I didn't to be a 'proper woman'. My body stiffened for a second. Only a second, then it passed, and I broke down in tears.

I hurt. I was tired. I just wanted it to be over.

I nodded meekly as tears streamed down my face. "Yes..."

"I can't hear you," he growled. "Are you ready to behave and take as many cocks as you're assigned, pop out as many babies as your tiny body can handle? Apologize. Say how sorry you are and maybe I won't hurt you anymore."

"I... I'm sorry, sir... I won't... ah... I won't refuse again... ah!" My pathetic words were emphasized by my gasping sobs and his pounding thrusts. "I'm sorry I was so stupid! Nngh! I don't hate this place! I don't want to leave! I... I'm sorry! Ah! Ah! Ahh!" As I blathered, my pussy clenched and squeezed his cock. Despite my crying and begging, the constant slide in and out felt amazing.

He groaned, his cock suddenly feeling larger and harder. My inner muscles tightened around his thick, pulsing shaft. Hot, virile seed pumped right onto my cervix. My sobbing breaths punctuated his quiet groans as he filled me with his cum, rope after rope of fluid spraying my insides, creamy semen drowning my womb.

I whimpered as my pussy squeezed every last drop from his balls. Fear made me squeeze as hard as I could. I hoped he got me pregnant. I hoped he wouldn't hurt me again.

His softening dick stayed buried in my warm tunnel as our mixed juices began dripping out, joining the mess on the floor. My back ached. My shoulders twinge. My legs were jelly.

He was done. He was done using me. He was done fucking me.

My pussy grabbed onto his cock as he pulled out, not wanting to let go. He stepped away. I felt oddly empty and cold without him filling me, touching me. I shivered.

He came around in front of me, leaned down, and lifted my chin.

"Next time, princess, you will ask me nicely to fuck your pussy, and thank me when I fill you with my cum." He pressed his lips to mine, his tongue sweeping my mouth. "Because you belong to me."

He walked out of the room.

The chains slowly lowered me to the floor, then released. My wrists were red and bruised, my feet sore, my shoulders cramped. Cum leaked from my abused hole.

I staggered to the door and found the shower station, stepping into the hot spray.

My ass throbbed, my body was exhausted, my mind numb. And my pussy was so, so wet.

The shower washed away my dried tears but did nothing for the heat inside me. I had to sleep on my stomach that day. Well, eventually I slept, after rubbing myself off a few times.

I wasn't going anywhere. The System wasn't letting me go.

Besides, I belonged to Damon.

—

Room D205—test D1500

Time elapsed: 50 minutes

Morale: acceptable

Impregnation: positive

Analyzing data... ... ...

Updating male model Damon S0389F to version 1.0.804