The Breeder Pt. 01

Audrey's Master wants to breed her; to increase her chances of bearing twins, he experiments with new evolution-informed methods involving orgasm denial. 5k words, very dark content rating.

This is another story that I wrote over a decade ago and which was once posted to a furry site, but which hasn't been available anywhere for many years. I re-wrote it to bring it closer to my current writing quality and to remove the unnecessary furry-based setting.

Content warnings/tags: slavery; nonconsensual impregnation/breeding.

Audrey moaned in pleasure as the man's strong fingers dug into the tense muscle of her thighs, keeping her legs spread wide. His tongue passed over her damp folds again and again, each stroke sending a slow roll of warm pleasure that built on the last, until the sensations were barely distinguishable from each other, just a long, slow throb of heat.

She moved to rock against his face and opened her mouth, trying to say enough--enough teasing, she was ready to come, so ready...

But the words wouldn't come out. His hands, hard as steel, held her hips nearly immobile. His tongue was coming lighter and lighter, fading...no, she was so close--

"No!"

Audrey awoke to the sound of her own desperate cry, and realized all at once that she had been drifting, dreaming.

The desperate throb in her pussy followed her into reality. The hands of her handsome stranger transformed into the steel cuffs that kept her spread-eagled on the odd seat that she had been imprisoned on. It was fashioned from a barrel, she thought, based on the shape, but it had been covered with a layer of cushioned and conditioned leather to make it more comfortable; a seam ran across the top, placed too precisely to be accidental, such that it pressed constantly into her bare clit.

Her Master was the one who had put her there. Audrey was the most basic of house-slaves, trained in simple housekeeping tasks, to provide assistance to the head maid and the cook; she had considered her vocation to be very pedestrian...up until very recently, when her Master had summoned her from the servant's quarters, had brought her down into the dungeon-like cellar under the house and instructed her to undress.

Audrey had assumed that he wanted to make use of her, as the head maid had been snidely commenting since Audrey had reached the age of eighteen, when her Master might legally require her to perform sexual services. But he had only touched her--and touched her, and touched her, caressing her soft skin and her sensitive nipples, and then between her legs, until she was embarrassingly wet--and then he had strapped her up on the barrel-seat and had left her there, burning with unfulfilled desire.

He said it was necessary, for her to breed well; he needed her to be receptive to whichever slave he found to inseminate her, and he had been made to understand that her arousal would make her more fertile, more likely to bear him valuable twins or even triplets. Evidently, matching slave-children attendants were in fashion, and he was hoping to net a tidy profit by producing a set out of her.

He had explained all of this when he had first strapped her into place, and that had been...yesterday? No, wait...

How long? How long had she been unconscious before the ache in her cunny had dragged her back into the waking world? How long had she been locked to this horrid seat?

She had only passed out once, so surely not more than twenty-four hours? But it was difficult to think past the need and the heat between her legs. She had taken her mind off of it long enough to sleep, but her dream had gotten her worked up again, leaving her wet and aching. She could feel an almost torturous fluttering in her pussy, as if it were begging for just a single finger, anything to push her closer to the edge...

Audrey let out a heartfelt groan of frustration and began to desperately rock against the barrel-seat with the tiny range of movement she was afforded. It was barely enough to tease her, and she had tried already--for hours, she had tried--so she had no hope that it would bring her relief, but she simply couldn't stand to sit still.

She became so focused on the little rocking movements and the press of the seam into her throbbing clitty that she didn't hear the footsteps of her Master descending the stairs. When the heavy door scraped open to admit him into the room, she nearly jumped out of her skin.

Her Master was tall and broad-chested; even as a woman of eighteen, Audrey was only a little more than half his height. Seated on the barrel, though, she was raised to nearly of a level with him, leaving her feeling frightfully exposed as his gaze roamed her naked body.

Before Audrey could gather herself enough to greet him--not that she was certain what to say; the past day had been a whirl of confusion for her in terms of how she was meant to address her Master when she had her pussy out--he approached her and placed a hand on her back. He rubbed between her shoulders, then down her spine, petting her.

Audrey couldn't stop herself from shuddering in response to the contact, warm tingles flooding her body from where he touched her. Her knees tightened on the seat, and she let out a little sound of need as her clit ground into the leather.

Still, her Master said nothing. Instead, he began to scratch his fingernails lightly over her lower back, turning the tingles into little sparks of maddening sensation that made her back arch.

Audrey gasped in a breath and finally managed to speak. "M-Master, please...how much longer? I really...it's...I fear I won't be able to tolerate much more of this..."

The man let out a low, rumbling laugh. "Oh, is that so?" He brushed his hand up her back again. "Well, I suppose you'll be happy to hear that I've found you a partner. He's on his way here from Lord Fairbank's manor."

"Oh," Audrey exhaled. "That is a relief, Master, truly--" her words broke into a needy whine as her Master's hand trailed around her front, tickling over the sensitive skin of her stomach and making her clit twitch hopefully.

"I suppose that it is. You've lost so much of your composure, Audrey. You know, I selected you because you've always been such a well-trained, well-dispositioned serving-girl, and now...well." He moved his hand to her thigh, brushing his fingers over the wet patch she'd left pooling on the leather. "You're a bit of a mess, aren't you?"

"I'm sorry, Master," she whispered.

"Don't be. It speaks to the efficacy of my methods." He patted her thigh and then pulled his hand away, leaving her head spinning with how close his fingers had been to where she needed to be touched. "Now, you told me before that you're a virgin, correct? We'll need to be sure that your body is prepared to accept him."

"Accept...oh." Audrey blushed. "Forgive me for speaking out of turn, Master, but I do think--that is, I don't expect much of a, a problem--"

Her Master shook his head. "I understand that you might be feeling quite empty, Audrey, but it wouldn't do to have you throw yourself in too enthusiastically, or for him to do the same, and for you to be injured. That would ruin all of my hard work with you."

He held up an object, which Audrey had failed to notice that he was carrying in his other hand. It was a long glass...well, it appeared to be...she blushed even deeper, staring.

It was a glass penis.

Not that she'd ever seen the flesh and blood kind, or at least not in such a ready state, but there was nothing else that it could be. The end flared out into a flat base, as if it were meant to be sat on a surface so that one could...could...

Her cunt clenched, hard, and Audrey's whole body shuddered.

Her Master's lips curved up in a knowing smile.

He unlocked her manacles, and Audrey gasped as her legs dangled downwards, abruptly putting more weight on her crotch and pressing it even harder into the teasing seam. Then her Master wrapped one arm around her and scooped her up, carrying her to the small cot in the corner of the basement room.

He stood her beside it, leaving her hands tied behind her back as they were, and then wasted no time in bending her forward until her body was pressed into the stiff cot, her feet braced on the floor.

Audrey groaned at the sensation of the fabric rubbing against her nipples. Nerves made her stomach squirm, but she didn't dare object, even as she felt the cold glass nudging between her wet lips. It was a shock, and she was a little frightened--would it even fit? She had only ever put a finger or two inside of herself, never something this large--

But her Master wasn't stopping to ask her opinion; he was pushing it against her, nudging it back and forth in little movements as if he was opening her body--and then it was in, and in, and in, sliding home inside her until the flared base was flush against her throbbing cunt.

At first, it was almost anticlimactic. The stretch at her entrance was vaguely uncomfortable, even a little painful; inside of her, it didn't feel like too much except for a bit of a stretch, a coolness in the glass that was a little soothing.

And then her Master let go of the base, allowing gravity to do its work and settle the weight inside of her, and Audrey moaned. There was an exquisite, beautiful pressure, right against all of the needful places inside of her where she'd been aching and aching for so long...

She began to pant roughly into the bedsheets. Her hips twitched instinctively, humping against air in an automatic little movement, not even intentional enough to try and connect her clit with the edge of the cot. Even these small shifts made the glass rod jog inside her, rubbing against her in infinitely stimulating and maddening ways.

Audrey let out several quiet, desperate squeaks, shifting her legs against one another and then pressing her knees together. All thought of her Master or his job for her had washed from her mind, leaving only the hot, crushing need of her body and the wonderful, cooling weight of the object inside her.

Her Master took hold of the base again.

Audrey gasped, almost a sob, remembering his presence with a combination of dismay and anticipation.

He twisted it slowly, and the sensation shocked her: there was a slight curve that she had barely seen with her eyes when she looked at the object, but now she could feel it, pressing into the delicate walls of her cunny, making her gasp again, and again, each sound becoming louder and more voiced. Her knees parted instinctively, thighs trembling with anticipation, her body convinced that it was about to be soundly fucked.

Her Master released his hold again, allowing the weight to settle into her once more.

Audrey remained where she was, dizzy and lust-addled, unable to think of anything but the tremble of her cunt around the false penis. Her clit ached to be touched, but she retained enough of her sense to know that she would be in trouble if she tried.

Instead, he walked away. Not out of the dungeon, but elsewhere within it--wiping down the leather on the seat she'd been strapped to, and then sorting through the storage trunks at the far end of the stone-walled room.

Dazed and desperate, Audrey was aware of time flowing by in a slow haze. She drifted in and out of fantasies of being fucked by the man from her dreams, or by her Master himself. She rolled and twitched her hips, humping the air, making the glass object rock and bounce inside of her until she was absolutely desperate for satisfaction--but she didn't dare touch her neglected clit, and without the sensation there, her climax remained elusive. She felt as if her sanity had left her, replaced only by this throbbing, hot need and the wetness dripping between her thighs.

When her Master returned, she was lucid enough to anticipate his touch, feeling the warmth of his hand before his hand pressed against her stomach. The light contact made her twitch, hips shifting again despite her attempts to control herself.

Without warning, he pressed his hand up--hard--on her abdomen, putting pressure on the object where it rested inside of her, grinding it firmly into the sensitive walls of her virgin cunt.

Audrey was overwhelmed, letting out a series of "Oh--Oh--Oh--" cries that devolved into desperate, yelping grunts like an injured dog. She squirmed and danced on her toes, trying to find a way to shove down harder into the pressure, to grind even more against the glass rod, but she couldn't find the angle. Even so, she felt a dizzying burst of heat spread through her as a climax finally began to slowly, slowly gather inside her, coalescing around that point where his hand pressed--

And then her Master took his hand out from under her, grabbing her instead by her hips to stop her frenetic humping, and he pulled the glass rod out of her.

Audrey wailed, the waves of pleasure fizzling at the top of her spine, her entire body shaking as she panted and her cunt clenched on the suddenly unbearable emptiness inside of her, struggling to comprehend how the climax that had been less than a second away had been snatched out from under her.

"Master, Master, please, I, I need," she babbled desperately. Then, her feverish mind latched onto a thought: "You--you said I'm more likely to conceive twins if I reach my peak when I'm seeded? If you were to--to bring me to the peak now, with that toy, perhaps my body will be more prepared--and I promise, I promise I'll be ready to do so again once my partner arrives--!"

"Oh, Audrey," he said, and the tone in his voice did not make her very hopeful. "I may have misled you. My research indicates that you're most likely to conceive when you are at the peak of your desperation, not at the peak of pleasure." He rubbed a hand through her hair, letting the words sink in before he continued. "It's a new theory--based in evolutionary science, you know--regarding your body's fertile response to the perceived status of a male who has the confidence to inseminate you without offering you the same satisfaction; although it may be a frustrating experience, your womb should be that much more receptive if you are left wanting, even after being bred."

He rubbed his hand down her neck and between her shoulders again as Audrey stared at him, struggling to process what he had said--and to communicate it to her body, to her throbbing, needy cunt, which was still so certain that she was about to come at any moment.

"But...but not even...Master...then when? When will you let me--?"

Her Master laughed, the low rumble more threatening than comforting now. "I suppose once you deliver me a healthy set of twins. You'll have earned your pleasure by then."

With a final pat on her exposed behind, he left the room again, closing the door behind himself and leaving her to consider his words.