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Saturday, September 1, 2018

Patreon Monthly Mini | Day of Conception


For the month of July, my Patreon supporters voted for a story centered around the idea of Captivity. The particular story that resulted from it followed the fertile plight of a woman kidnapped months previously, forced to watch a tape her captor proclaimed to be the moment he knocked her up. The evidence swelled before her eyes on her own belly, and chained to the bed as she would be every morning, she is forced to watch her own impregnation and experience what it's like to be his fucktoy in the deepest of ways.

Naturally this story covers topics of dubious consent, coercion, sexual slavery, and the emotions that come from such a conflicted breeding. If that sort of thing isn't going to tickle your fancy, then look forward to next month's lighter story. Otherwise I hope you enjoy this one and consider supporting my efforts through my Patreon and buying my premium works through Smashwords and Amazon.

Enjoy!


The flat screen television flickered on. In the few dim rays of morning light that crept through the tattered curtains of my cell, I heard the voice that wouldn’t stop haunting me.

“Ahh, there we go. You’re going to enjoy this,” Nathan said, straightening up on the screen. The well-worked muscles of his chest and midsection filled out the image while the camera jittered with his adjustments. He wasn’t wearing any clothes. My eyes traced down the trail of hair from his chest and belly to his large, swaying…

I turned to roll away from it, but my restraints caught my neck. A familial pain made me wince, and I stopped trying. He wouldn’t even let me look away, not even in the mornings when I was alone. Every day began with this ritual. Instead of an alarm clock he awoke me with porn, and not just any porn.

“Let me go, please!” I sobbed behind the man, my voice tinny in the recording. His dark laugh chilled me even now, about seven months after he recorded this one. A caption he had written scrolled across the bottom of the screen:

Day of Conception

My insides froze when I saw that. At least mine did. The chains weighed on my wrists, but I still lifted my arms to pet across my stomach. They had to lift high now, my womb dancing painfully with my unborn child who had awoken with me this morning.

“Shhh, please…” I whimpered, petting my squirming belly. I knew he was a boy. A mother knew as much as that. The way he moved inside me, strong enough even now to subdue every thought of me with a mere kick of his tiny feet, took after his father. Would he have the same dark hair and eyes? A sob escaped my lips, but it was nowhere near as loud as my wailing on the recording.

Please, someone help me!”

“Shhh, I’m all you need,” Nathan said. I jerked my face away from his hand as he traced my jaw. That wouldn’t do. A growl and a firm grab later he was drawing my eyes back to his, my cheeks held inescapably between his fingers.

“P-p-please… don’t… fuck, I’m sorry.”

“You know I don’t like foul language from you,” he tore back the sheets that I had cocooned myself in, revealing the chains that bound me to the bedframe. The same that bound me now. I heard them rattle as my feet kicked uselessly, and even now the cold of the chains bound me in the same way – thighs spread and unable to close, made ready for him to take me at any time.

My muffled whines died in his palm, and I in the bed watched his great cock hanging low above my past self. Its veiny length dragged against my heaving breasts and knocked against my chin before he pressed the semi-turgid head against my lips.

“I’ll clean out that foul mouth of yours,” he said, grabbing my hair tight. My gasp gave him opportunity, and he shoved his member past my lips. I gurgled, my face disappearing behind Nathan’s muscled legs and pumping ass. But I didn’t need to see it to remember the way his cock felt, gliding against my tongue, forcing my lips to stretch out to accommodate him. The same lips that my fingers traced unconsciously right then in the bed as his rutting ass and my gurgling protests played out on the screen.

“That’s it, good girl… Choke on my cock,”

Nathan cooed, his hand releasing my hair as I tearfully bobbed up and down on his cock. It was just as he taught me, session after session. And every session he would reward me the same way, by taking his hand and trailing it down to my breast. His hand enveloped one on screen, his strong fingers squeezing tight and letting my nipple appear and disappear beneath his fingers. My own hand followed suit.

My hips rose, both on screen and in the bed. He knew my weaknesses, and even now he had sway over them. My own hand couldn’t close in around my tit the way his did, especially now. It weighed heavy and taut, almost painfully swollen and sensitive. The cold metal of the rings he’d since put through my nipples caught against my palm. He squeezed on screen, and I mimicked him without thinking. A tickle across my stomach drew my attention down to the streak of creamy milk I’d sprayed over myself. I was lactating already, and already wasting the nourishment for his baby growing inside me.

“Mmm, yesss…” Nathan hissed on screen as he kept massaging my breast, “You’ll be weeping out of these tits for me too soon enough.”

A sob broke from my lips, and another spray confirmed his prophetic words. Its warmth went everywhere – my stomach, my hands, even the bedsheets - thanks to those glimmering rings ruining my nipples. He had told me that wives get rings on their fingers, but breeding mares get them through their tits. I bit my lip and squeezed my eyes closed, the warm tears streaking down my cheeks as more of my cream squirted from my tits.

“Noooo! I don’t want your baby!” I wailed on the screen the moment his cock popped out of my mouth. But Nathan didn’t stop. He dragged that slimy, saliva-dripping cock down my body and hiked my legs up onto his broad shoulders.

“Mmm, your body disagrees,” he nuzzled his face against my calf, snarling against it like a dog with his bone. His dangerous shaft, bare and drooling precum, twitched against my vulnerable slit. It lurched like a baton, rising only to knock against my defenseless pussy. On screen my hips squirmed in vain to get away from his. In the bed my hips roved against the bedsheets until my hand crept down between my thighs.

“I can’t… not now… It’s the worst time,” I whined beneath him.

“Now is the best time,” he thrust in, and my squealing cry pealed out as he rutted in.

“Ohhh god, please noo-ooooh!” I groaned in the bed along with my on-screen wails, flicking my fingertips along my slit. That time was the worst time to be fucking bareback, and he knew what he was going to do to me. What he would make of my flat belly and little tits. I plowed my fingers in, two at a time, and pumped in rhythm with Nathan’s purposeful strokes.

It went on and on, the thrusting and the whining and the guilty pleasure playing out in the movements of my body beneath his. My wails turned to desperate moans on the screen, my pussy gripping tight around his plunging shaft and my fingernails digging into his pumping flanks. Much the same happened amid my gently clanking chains, the frigging of my pussy sounding out the same squelching that came out from the television. Only on the screen my forced mate pressed his hand against my flat stomach.

“You’re going to get so big and round here,” he taunted, and I resisted with what little might I had left in me.

“No! Noooo,” I cried out.

“No…” I told my past self. There was no more denying he words. His victory rose high, those mounds he had made of my breasts and stomach irrefutable and impossible to ignore now. I cradled my belly with my free hand, petting along its taut surface as he did on my then-unfertilized stomach. The other my pussy slathered in twitching gushes of quim down to my knuckles.

The way Nathan grunted, a coldly suave man devolving into the brutal animal he really was, made my pussy twinge around my fingers. In one moment he’d grasp my breasts till I screamed, and in another he’d clamp onto my then-lithely waist till my squirming stopped. My legs bounced helplessly against his shoulders, raised in his conquest and my surrender. Every now and again he’d grasp one and plant his kisses along my calf before folding me up between our nearing chests. I could not longer fold up like that – my belly was far too big for that now. But still I gave my pussy a stretching as best I could with my little chained-up hands.

“Yesss, it feels good to breed, doesn’t it?” he threw back his head and bore down on me again, a devilish glint in his eyes.

“No no no!” I stammered, but he clamped his hand over my mouth.

“Shhh, no more lying. I’ll make such a pretty baby inside you right now.”

My muffled scream on screen was met with my rasping breaths on the bed. I knew how this story ended, how he spoke only the truth when he threatened to put a baby in me. Already his son kicked inside me, no doubt feeling the shudders and contractions of my womb quivering on the verge. Milk dribbled from my tits while both instances of myself gasped and fought against the terrible ecstasy. We were about to cum despite the tears wetting our cheeks.

“Close,” he growled. Nathan pumped faster than ever, his cock shunting into my red and glistening pussy with all the ferocity of a pleasure-maddened monster. I beat against his chest until he forced my legs to my chest again and caged me in with my own body. His snarling teeth bared themselves just inches from my face, our eyes connecting as predator and prey.

“I’m going to knock you up.”

“Don’t – please don’t,” I whimpered beneath him, my eyelids already flickering as orgasm crept over me.

“Please,” I repeated on the bed. My body jolted and shuddered. I was so close to cumming. I needed it. I needed to see it.

“Make me a son!” Nathan’s eyes rolled back in his head, and his lunge buried his throbbing tool into me right down to his pulsing balls. My piercing wail, the cry of a defeated bitch, set me off on the bed. I bucked up to meet my fingers with only the chains to hold me back. I came, hard, as Nathan’s heavy balls jerked and thick babymaking sperm foamed out around his still-shunting member.

He was filling me. Stuffing me. Impregnating me. Right before my eyes.

I came on screen as my orgasm continued rolling over me. Squirming, howling, my past-self sobbed despite biting her lower lip and gripping his arms with pleasure-stricken squeezes. But my eyes were on my pussy, stretched tight around Nathan’s throbbing cock and churning with his babymaking load. My mouth open, I just let my loud moans flow out of my chest, letting myself revel for a moment in my sexy misery.

“Ahhhh… cum nice and hard. Make sure it takes,” he commanded, and my treacherous body obeyed. It wasn’t like my mind had changed, that he had convinced me a baby would be exactly what I wanted. He simply gave my body what it wanted, and what it wanted now oozed out around his stilling member. I swore I could feel it even then in my stomach, coating my cervix with a load that I was still carrying today…

“I… I h-hate you!” I managed, unable to catch my breath.

“Mmm, you’ll learn to love this,” Nathan sighed, finally pulling out of my body. His excess followed in a hot gush. A torrent of pearly-white slime crept down the crack of my still-shuddering ass. On screen my hands dove for it, to dig out as much as I could. But the chains stopped me. They were shorter then, and had stopped me from scooping out even a dollop of that dangerous cum. So much of it oozed down towards my vulnerable cervix. That I could still feel. I knew what it was doing to me right then, and I couldn’t stop it.

All I could do was cry. I shook my head as if to make the reality of it all go away. There was no running from it anymore though. His seed had found its mark inside me and now his baby was growing inside me. There was no escaping it, or him. Not then, and not now.

Still, he was right. I had learned to love this.

I hated Nathan. He was a monster, a rapist, a demon sent to punish me. He had kidnapped me from my home, caged me in this cell, and now he was putting his babies into my body. And still as I laid back on the pillows, my every muscle relaxing and my little one wiggling excitedly in my satisfied womb, I felt love. A terrible, overwhelming love. My chains restricted how far I could reach, but I touched my baby bump with a pride and love and pleasure that I never knew before Nathan made me into a mother. It became all the more intense knowing where the love of my life had come from. Hate making love, and I knew my baby would forever remind me of him.

“Shhh, little one… Mommy’s here,” I said, my tears warm and fresh as they spilled onto my pillow. The tape ended, and the screen flickered off. The dimmed lights came up, and the locks on the door snapped open one by one.

Nathan was coming back to appraise and toy with his captive, just as he would every morning. When this captivity would end I could not know. That it would never end, that was what I feared. The steel door screeched open and the heavy boots of my nightmare strode into my prison. I shivered as my eyes flickered close.

“Daddy’s coming,” I told myself and petting over my belly, and gave into my second orgasm of the day.

The End

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