Derren Grathy Erotic Stories Amazon Banner

Derren Grathy Erotic Stories Smashwords Banner

Friday, June 20, 2014

Story RP | Slave Breeding

      This is a fantasy I was just inspired to write this morning after seeing this picture. It is a small one-sided roleplay directed towards the sexy woman in the picture. Enjoy!

      You have a picture in your lovely collection, the hazy-eyed slave leaning forward, her glittering collar bordering between her exhausted yet lusty face and her tight and fertile body. It is rather inspiring of a certain fantasy.

      That woman her Master would chain up much the same way, her wrists bound and her body stripped down to the bare flesh. Perhaps she would resist, not wanting her tight tummy to feel the gush of virile spunk her Master would undoubtedly give her. Motherhood might be something she wants to wait for. But it wouldn't matter. That slut would be bound and blindfolded in a similar way to that picture, and her pussy enslaved by toys. What toys her Master would use would depend on what her weaknesses were - does she drip quim from little egg vibrators, does she gush for thick and veined cocks, or perhaps a stretched and filled cunt satisfies her? One by one he would inflict them on her, experimenting, find what makes his little slut scream.

      Oh, it might be fun for her at first. Being pleasured has its obvious joys, does it not? But every time she would cum, every time she would lose herself to her womanly weakness, he would press harder on that front. Make her shiver and squirm, and begin to cry out, "Too much!" from all the humming and sliding of the toys. But it isn't enough for him. Those pleading eyes her Master would blindfold, her whining mouth he would gag so all she could do was moan and exude muffled cries as unknown hands and toys played across her body.

      She would cum. Not for herself, not for a porno, or even for her own fantasies. She would cum for him. Her Master would learn her body like an instrument and run his fingertips along her strings, able to make her sing and screech at his discretion. Now and again she might taste some refreshing water on her dry tongue, dry from how it wagged and panted like a bitch in heat as another uncontrollable orgasm crashed into her after the others. He would not stop, even when her sweaty thighs quivered and gave slack, nor when her slutty juices pooled in slopping drops beneath her used cunt...

      All this time, my dear slave, he would be whispering in her ear. Every time the tension in her flat belly would strain and her pussy gulp around a fake cock, he would threaten to fill her with the real thing. Bare. Unprotected. A slave doesn't have the luxury of choosing when and where she is bred. His palm might stroke down the line of her belly as another orgasm shunts through her veins, feeling how strongly her womb flutters beneath, how fertile his little slut must be for him. And when that man had enough of merely toying with her, he might pull her limp and quaking ass back and push himself deep into her messy pussy.

      A wet and slopping sound would reach her ears, a sick schlicking as his long member penetrates his slave's overpleasured pussy. Stretching her just right, pressing so deep that the head kisses her cervix every few strokes. God, how she would squirm then! "You're getting bred, slave..." he might assure her, her pleasure-pained wail beneath the muffle not enough to convince him otherwise.

      "Your Master is going to knock you up now. Plant a baby in this tight enslaved belly," he might say, stroking around the smooth curve of her midsection and the dangling jewelry that in a few months will have to come out. "Are you going to love Master's baby, slut? Are you going to become Master's slutty mommy now?"

      Yes. She knows she cannot resist. Her body is weak, unable to withstand the agonizing flurry of countless orgasms he subjected her to already. A pleasure-stricken whore, her punch-drunk eyes rolling in her skull as her Master grasps her firm tits, promising to fill them just like he will fill her fertile belly. "Here it comes, slut," her Master will groan, "I'm marking you as mine forever!"

      Wracked with pleasure, he'd make her cum one last time the moment his cock began to spew. Heavy pulses, balls jerking, plunging deep into her spasming cunt so that every hot jet would find its mark. The pink of her inner walls washed white with millions of squirming sperm, thick and virile, invading her greedy womb as it gulps it all down in thirsty drags. Five, ten, fifteen shots and more - how much will her growling Master fill her tight pussy? How many shots will it be until her poor little egg gives in and lets her Master's spunk knock her up? Or will they even give it that chance before making her pregnant?

      And at his end, when after countless moments of his hardly-softening cock pulsing inside her saturated cunt, he would pull out satisfied that he'd inseminated her well enough. Thick globs slopping out of her used cunt and drooling down her thighs as she hangs there, gasping through her gag. He would remove it then, for now her words of protest won't save her little egg from its destiny. And kissing her cheek, fingering her blindfold, and petting her taut fertilized belly, he could whisper in her tired ear the words she most wanted to hear:

      "Ready for your next breeding, slave?"

No comments:

Post a Comment