Mere Hours Ago

Waking up in a ‘literal’ breeding pen, her body pinned forward and her breasts hanging freely in the air, was not a pleasant experience. Suction cups were latched onto her sensitive nipples, and pinpricks came and went as long thin syringes injected her mammaries with some kind of drug.

Monica’s breasts quickly swelled, aching like nothing she ever experienced before, and within minutes she could feel something warm being pressured to the surface.

The realization that she was being milked slowly dawned on her. The suction of the machine brought great relief, and pleasure, to her burning breasts, meanwhile she could feel her lower lips being forcibly spread wide by a pair of plastic tongues.

“Don’t you dare!” Monica gasped as she felt something kissing the entrance of her sacred womanhood.

Her protests were ignored.

Something long and cold was inserted into her vaginal folds, and Monica squirmed as more injections were given to her breasts while something invaded her insides.

Her eyelids suddenly grew heavy, the world slipping out of existence, as her head fell forward. When next she opened her eyes, her lower back was throbbing, and she could feel the suction cups suckling her nipples hungrily.

Her breasts were gently being nursed by the mechanisms suction cups beneath her, and she could feel that her womanhood was sullied by something wretched. There was a warmth spreading through her groin, expanding in her loins, going deeper, all the way to the base of her stomach.

A thick bead of sweat strolled down her forehead, reaching down to her eyelids, and dripping off her eyelash. She looked down to see that the plastic tubs attached to the suction cups were drawing a steady stream of motherly fluids from her body into two smaller vats alongside her.

Slowly, Monica collected herself, and decided to test the strength of her restraints.

They were old, rusted through. It took a while, but she could tell it wasn’t impossible to break her arms free, and after a continually pulling against the restraints she managed to free her right arm. Once one arm was free, it took only minutes to free the other, and she was relieved to find no alarms were raised. All the machines seemed worn with age, and she guessed it made sense that the cameras might’ve been damaged.

You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

Or perhaps…whatever was driving the machine that captured her was focused elsewhere?

It took Monica a full thirty minutes to free her legs, and extract the tubes that were inserted in her body. The suction cups were another story. They held on so tightly, it was painful yanking them off. It took an incredible effort to free her nipples from them, and the moment her breasts were unlatched, Monica was stunned to see how much milk was lactating freely from her swollen aureoles.

“Shit…” She gently felt up her engorged breasts, bitting her lip as they felt incredibly sensitive in her grasp. They were indeed larger, sagging a little, and slightly uneven. Her right breast was noticeably larger than the other; her left nipple more puffy, and it seemed to spurt a thicker volume of her sustenance. Monica swore out loud, letting them go, and tried to get used to the new heft of their added weight.

“Poor girls…look what they’ve done to you,” Monica felt like crying. Stifling her tears, she did her best to look away. There would be time to deal with this later, right now she needed to escape, and get back to the group.

They needed to be warned, if it wasn’t already to late.

The older mercenary stumbled out of her pen, and ignored all the other empty stalls around her. There were also stasis tanks, and other strange machines in the room. The chamber itself was more than large enough to house dozens, if not hundreds, of slaves. She didn’t want to think of what all the machines were used for, or how many other women were once caroled here.

Monica was pissed, so engulfed with rage that she wanted that machine that was once Victor to attack her again. This time she would do more than simply crack open its leg casing. This time she would rip out whatever was its heart, and crush it with her bare hands.

Her skin itched, she knew the magical corrosive he sprayed her with did more than just eat away her armor, it must’ve done something to the nerve endings in her skin, which would cause problems down the road. Monica heard stories from freed breeding slaves, about them being unable to wear normal clothes without great discomfort, and she shuddered at the thought.

It was just another thing to think about later.

Monica searched around for anything that could be used as a weapon. Her eyes narrowed on a broken guard rail next to one of the pens. She broke it free, and proceeded to sharpen one end of it using another shard of metal she found on the ground. It didn’t take long, given how furious and focused she was, to turn the piece of pipe into a makeshift spear.

Once armed, Monica stumbled out of the room. Each step spurred a grimace as her breasts bounced, and she wished there was something she could use as a bra to keep them from dangling around.

They weren’t the only things that bothered her, however. Her loins were sore, and a clear sticky substance was running down her legs, leaving a trail behind her as she journeyed down the halls.

It didn’t take long for her to make out grease and oil tracks from the machine that had captured her. Monica decided to follow it, until hearing the sounds of combat down the halls. As the noise grew louder, the former mercenary, and soon-to-be-mother, imagined all the ways she was going to kill that machine, and whoever controlled it.