The Breeder Read online

  “We are not going to build you into freaks, slaves,” said the trainer in charge here. “Rather we want to make you strong and capable of much work.”

  I had noted there were no muscle freaks amongst the girls in the gym. I was glad of that for I find the bodies of such girls quite awful. They wanted to make us as athletically fit as it was possible to be... strong, yes, and with an extraordinary endurance, but not muscle-bound. Why was not explained then.

  All day we laboured as our trainers tested the pair of us for fitness and strength and athletic ability on the various machines and apparatus they had in that enormous gymnasium.

  We were not fed and at lunchtime I felt hungry but after an hour or so it passed. They only fed us twice a day since their researches led them to believe two meals were better than three in the digestive process. Have you noticed I said fed and not ate? I will explain it now.

  As the afternoon wore to a close we were taken off the things we were working on and in groups of fifty, were lined up and marched off to the feeding area. When it came our turn, we moved off down the corridor and into the actual feeding room, just as the group before us were leaving. I stared up at the fifty pipes dangling down from a frame against the wall and shook my head in disbelief. Surely not?

  Surely yes! The fifty pipes were more of the same tentacles that had earlier that day intruded into two parts of my body and three of Alicia’s and we had to stand under them, tilt our heads back and open our mouths so the horrible things could worm their way in and down our throats.

  Once down in our bellies, the food was injected straight in. As I said, we didn’t eat we were fed! And that was twice a day. I have no idea what it was we were fed, something very healthy of course. Our bodies were everything to them and I’m sure whatever it was in the mixture that was forced down the pipes would have been totally healthy and nutritious.

  Added to that though were the hormones. They didn’t tell us of these of course but I found out later. They wanted us randy and they wanted us highly fecund. The former to satisfy their own lusts on our bodies and the latter to make us perfect breeding cows - for that was what we were!

  All the effort put into developing us into perfect physiques, apart from their delight in our perfection, was to make us into ideal receptacles for carrying multiple infants. You don’t believe it? Believe it!

  After being fed, which took all of five minutes we were herded out of the feeding room and into the ablution area. They weren’t showers. We were nothing but slaves - breeding sows. We didn’t merit proper showers. It was a plain concrete area with half walls around it and four guards stood outside the walls armed with fire hoses. At the signal, they opened the valves on the nozzles and blasted us with the battering jets for a few seconds then turned them off as we stood shivering. I was handed a bar of soap and the slavegirl pointed to Alicia. I was surprised and not all that pleased to have to rub down the naked body of another woman but I did it as I noticed all the other girls doing it in pairs then I handed the soap to her and she did me. I suppose it wasn’t really that bad and as time passed, I came to enjoy the two times of the day when we washed our bodies for they were among the best.

  After that and when we had dried our bodies with the tiny rags issued to us, we moved off for our last duty of the day.

  Have you guessed? Yes, it was sex. Not all of us. Not me, for until after I was ritually deflowered and my periods could be assessed they weren’t going to risk fertilising me with mere guards and technicians; and not for others who were known to be in the risk period. They were taken away to some other area but I was left with the other girls although the rings in my labia were now padlocked closed.

  We were now in a room that boasted dozens of narrow wooden beds and we had to lie down on them while the guards and technicians filed in, chose one of us, stripped and mounted our bodies.

  Because of my virginal status, I was not going to be used but Alicia, in the bed next to me was and down the way a bit, I noted Jenny was too. I was appalled to see that we could be so casually used by these men but then the hormones hadn’t had time to kick in with me yet. Later, after a few days I would be as randy as the rest of them, hungering for the bodies of these men to assuage the itching lust that seemed to pervade my whole day.

  They could have us as long as they wanted and could swap to another girl if their first choice wasn’t satisfactory. Most stayed with the one girl, however.

  Because the ratio of males to us females was about one to four, three-quarters of the girls had no partner and I was astonished to see the jealousy in their eyes as they lay on their hard wooden bed and watched their sisters being raped by the naked guards and technicians.

  The more senior of the men in the place had us in their bedrooms of course and in private but the men whom I saw raping my sisters in misery didn’t seem at all put out to have to perform in front of their mates.

  I lay on my bed and watched as one by one, the men slaked their lust then got up off the girl, dressed and left. They didn’t speak to her except to grunt as their bodies rose to a crescendo of libidinous lust and when finished, turned their backs on them without another thought. Whether the girl had got her rocks off was of no concern to them. I later found that the aphrodisiac or hormone or whatever it was they used made us very randy indeed and it didn’t take much to tip us over so most were well satisfied by the time their male of that night was finished. Only those who had not been chosen were left hungry for sex.

  Now I understood at last what the doctor had meant when he said I would be in much demand.

  The next day was a repeat of the first. We were roused early, washed and fed in batches as we had been the previous night and then moved to the gymnasium.

  Now I discovered there was another area attached to that huge room. Our exercising was highly scientific, designed to hone our bodies until they were exactly the shape and tone required but then they used our muscles for their own purposes. In this other part of the gymnasium area, there were four rows of machines: a row of enormous capstans, another of treadmills, yet another of tandem bikes, each with space for twenty girls on it, and finally a series of rowing machines, each one also having spaces for a score of girls.

  This room was as vast as the gymnasium proper and could cater for as many girls so there were a couple of hundred in here was well as in the gym itself. I noted there were meters attached to each machine and soon learned that every one of them was attached to a complicated system of gears under the floor and that they drove generators that assisted with the power requirements of the building. Alright, I know a few hundred girls can’t provide much in the way of electricity but I suppose they reasoned it all helped and why not use our muscle power rather than wasting it.

  That first day Alicia and I were put on one of the capstans. They had five spokes with space for four girls on each but nevertheless it was sheer hard slog! This was no gentle walk in the park. Every step was a nightmare of effort and it went on all day, or at least until I dropped in total exhaustion.

  I was then picked up bodily by one of the guards and unceremoniously dropped off to one side of my capstan until I recovered, leaving the other nineteen girls to carry my share as well as their own. When I did come to, it was to be kicked back to work.

  The day after that it was back in the gym proper for more scientific exercising and the day after that again, a stint on the treadmills. In this way Alicia and I worked through each of the machines in that other room, interspersed with alternate days in the gym. When we failed, as we did often during those first few weeks, we were dragged off the machine and left to recover then prodded back to work when we did.

  And the nights were facsimiles of the first as well.

  Until I was ceremonially deflowered, I was locked away from the men but that didn’t stop them kneeling beside my bed and feeling and fondling me although the duty guard kept a weathe
r eye on them for my hymen was to be protected until they were ready for the ceremony.

  That came about ten days after our arrival. By then I was as randy as the rest of them and was aching for a male prick up my hungry hole. Indeed, virgin though I was, none of the ideas I had previously held about retaining my virginity even entered my head by then. I wanted sex. I wanted a prick. I wanted it now!

  The event took place in a small auditorium. It was a room set up for when we girls were to be fertilised by their stud males. It was also designed for exceptional events such as this one and I was led in and forced into a pillory whose apertures were set only a metre up from the floor so that I had to bend over to get my wrists and neck into the holes. Then they drew my feet wide apart and locked them to lugs let into the floor.

  All this was done in front of the all-male audience whose chief member was the President and sitting beside him, Dr Yuen.

  The pillory was set up on a circular turntable that formed part of the stage which was situated below the semi-circular series of seats, each row higher than the one in front so every person present would get a good view of my deflowering. They switched on the turntable and I began to revolve, very slowly but quite perceptibly.

  Then he came in.

  He was a Korean but he was enormous. Not fat, not at all. In fact he was a perfect example of the ideal in any man. He was very tall. I would guess at least six feet six but he might have been even more. His shoulders were very broad as was his chest. His muscles weren’t huge but were in perfect proportion to his body and every one of them was articulated so well, you could see them quite separately from the next and as he moved, they all rippled and corded wonderfully.

  He was perfect in another department as well. His prick was enormous. It didn’t look out of place on his titanic body but I’m sure it had to be twelve inches long and as thick as a woman’s wrist. He was as naked of hair on his body as us girls and this made his genitals look bigger still. His balls were the size of lemons and about the same shape. In short he was a real Titan.

  He was also very good looking. I drooled, actually as well as figuratively, as I stared out from my bent over position at his magnificent body and I hungered for it as I never had before.

  He must have been impressed with mine too for as he stared down at me, his cock began to jerk and to fill with blood, hardening to a monster I could hardly credit. It stood up and out from his so naked groin like the arm of a small boy, pulsing lightly as he stared down at my nakedness.

  But then he beat his broad brown chest with his fist and moved in behind me. I could feel him bending over me and then I felt the head of his cock probing between my now unlocked labia.

  He rammed it in - hard and fast. There was one quick pain and then he was through. I didn’t even feel the blood now oozing down my inner thighs but the audience sighed in a ripple of sound as they saw it. It must have been a cultural thing with them to watch a girl deflowered but I no longer cared.

  The pleasure in my nether regions as that monster tool reamed in and out of my well-secured body was unbelievable. Whether it was the hormones or simply that I had been exposed to so much raw sex over the least ten days I don’t know. Whatever it was, my body responded and so did I.

  I screamed out in my lust and as far as I was able, I thrust my loins back to meet the huge male’s plunging cock while his great hands reached under my body grabbing at and mauling my breasts.

  I don’t know how many orgasms he brought me to. It felt like dozens and it may have been. I do know he held back on his own for ages while the audience out there in the small and now darkened auditorium licked its collective lips at the scene he and I were giving them.

  I was on an all time high. I couldn’t believe the pleasure that thrilled through and through me - all over. Long gone were my prudish reservations about sex before marriage. I wanted it more and more as he raped me hard and long and even when it was all over and he had come inside me, I still wanted more.

  Alas, he was done. He saluted the audience, meaning the President, briefly and then jumped down off the stage to depart. I watched his departing body sadly, dreaming of that great tool as I watched his muscular buttocks rising and falling as he left my sight.

  The audience now rose and followed the President from the room and then I was taken to Dr Yuen’s clinic to be strapped down onto the gynaecological chair. I had to wait a few hours for him to turn up but he did eventually and now began all over again that dreadful examination with the octopus machine, this time including my vaginal entrance.

  He fiddled around for a while, reading off indications on the various instruments on the machine but then his face showed a pleased surprise before settling down to a smile of satisfaction. He turned to me and his smile deepened. “You are pregnant, slave - already - with just that one impregnation and it is triplets!”

  I stared at him in shock and in wonder. How did he know, this early in the piece? But then I thought of that machine. It was apparently a marvel of gynaecological research and investigation.

  But now I was in for even more intrusive procedures, for Dr Yuen was very far advanced in genetic engineering. This machine could not only investigate, it could also engineer the microscopic foetuses in my body! And that is exactly what it proceeded to do, or rather, he did, using the machine as a tool.

  The probe inside my body was horrible. It went deep into my womb and somehow did its tricks with the DNA in the three tiny organisms which would grow into three half Korean, half English males, for Dr Yuen now told me, as he worked on his machine, that the three babies would be accelerated in gestation to six months and that each boy would be as big as the male who had fertilised me and would then be trained as a soldier-slave.

  I stared at him. Soldier-slave? What did he mean?

  He smiled evilly at me, seeing the wonder in my face. “I have developed a means of adapting foetuses to just about any purpose. At the moment, our President is creating an army of slaves trained from birth to kill on command. Your three infants will be born in six months, will then be fed a special diet of hormones that will develop them very rapidly so that in only five years, they will be at an equivalent age of around eighteen - a perfect age for killer soldiers who will be utterly fearless and totally obedient to their officers.

  “They will not be trained to think out strategy but will be very capable as private soldiers and will be utterly ruthless.” He smiled mirthlessly at me once more. “And every six months, you, as well as each of the other five hundred female cows here will produce another three, four or five new infant soldiers. That’s four thousand a year or twenty thousand in five years. Within ten years, when we have finished recruiting another five hundred breeding cows and have trained their offspring, we will have an army of trained fighting machines the like of which has never been seen before!”

  “No!” I screamed, as I lay there on that terrible table while his probe did its horrible things up inside me. “You’re inhuman! Even Hitler and Stalin and Idi Amin, didn’t do such terrible things.”

  His face changed. He had been eager to explain it all to me, to show off his skill as a geneticist but at my words it became black with rage and he grabbed my nipples and twisted them viciously. He also played with more of the buttons and dials on his console and tapped in new instructions into his computer keyboard. I now went pale as new pain enveloped my body. This wasn’t electricity. That would have been dangerous to the tiny cells in my womb but it was just as bad. What it was, I can’t really describe, except to say it was nauseous and sent horrible feelings right through me.

  “Not nice, is it, slut-slave? You see, we don’t only have electricity to punish you with, or I may order that your breasts be whipped, over and over again, until they are so tender that even the waft of a breeze will have you screaming in pain!”

  I subsided. I had no doubt he was telling me the truth and he
had already demonstrated his delight in sadistic tortures with which to control us.

  I lay there quietly now as he went on with his work. I was tired after the long day in the gym - actually I had spent it on the treadmill and this was perhaps the worst of the four machines in the generator room. Do you know what a treadmill is?

  It is a huge drum, very long - long enough for twenty girls to fit side by side, and about twelve feet in diameter. It sits in a pit in the floor with its axle at floor level. Ranged right around its length are a series of boards, arranged as steps. There are forty-five of these, arranged ten inches apart so the step up is quite high.

  And that’s what we had to do. There is a bar at about head level and we had to reach up and hold this while, in unison, step up onto the next board so that our combined weight forced the drum around. It’s just like climbing hundreds of sets of stairs. Doing it for ten hours a day is about equivalent to climbing six hundred storeys.

  It takes about five seconds for each step. That equals twelve per minute or seven hundred and twenty an hour. Ten hours makes 7,200 steps and 12 ten inch steps makes a ten foot storey, that equals the six hundred I mentioned. Now do you believe it?

  Of course it’s a magnificent exercise for the buttocks, thighs and calves but as yet I didn’t know why these muscles, over and above all the others needed to be so exercised. In any case, the capstan worked them too but also the upper body muscles - shoulders and arms; the rowing machine, the shoulders, arms and abdominal muscles; while the tandem bikes worked our buttocks, thighs and calves too, but in a different way, so I didn’t really think of the purpose they might later be put to.

  But it wasn’t only my day on the treadmill that made me tired. I said I had by now begun to ache for sex although I didn’t know why at that stage. It came on me gradually enough, I suppose and I didn’t think of the whys and the wherefores, only that I wanted it, desperately.