A Breeding

“I’ll be a breeding **** if that’s what you think best.” You splutter out just above a whisper.

“Then a breeder you shall be. Come, ****.” The Foreman says as he grabs the chain between your wrist shackles and pulls you along to the hallway you say him go to before. He makes a left turn and an immediate left turn again. He takes you into a relatively small room labeled equipment. Inside you see many shackles like yours, and many pain ensuing devices like whips and paddles. The Foreman walks over to the area where many collars hang on the wall. You look at the little label above each color to find them coded. The brown collars go to “Oars”, the reddish orange collar goes to “Crew”, and the magenta looking color goes with “Breeder”. The Foreman reaches up and takes a magenta collar from the rack, pulling it around your neck and clasping it with a lock. He then pulls your hair through the collar before walking towards the corner to grab a small lead which he fastens to a small loop on your new collar. He leads you out of the room.

The Foreman takes you into another room not too far down the hallway from the equipment room. You enter the room to see a middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair and fair skin. You walk in to see him sitting on his chair while a beautiful young girl in chains like yours is being **** to glide his cock in and out of her mouth. You shudder and look away. At least as a breeder you won’t have to do a lot of hard work or sexual acts, right? NO! You’re escaping! You can’t resign to this fate! You’re Rosie, the smart, creative, and strong woman, a friend not all! You’re not just another nameless sex **** resigned to having babies fucked into her until she’s infertile! You’re going to escape. You’re going to escape! You keep telling yourself this, but things look pretty bleak.

The Foreman leads you over to the large contraption that you soon learn is a stockade as the other man ‘finishes up’. The Foreman guides you into a hands and knees position within the stockade. He closes a top block over your head and clasps it, and he clicks both sets of your shackles to intended divots, leaving you trapped at at the mercy of the other man. The Foreman nods to the other man and heads back towards the deck. The doctor finishes with his blowjob in the only way you can imagine him being done, and he pulls up his trousers.

“Remember, you can’t swallow it for 5 minutes. All the crew knows, so don’t try to be sneaky.” He says to the woman he **** as he squeezes her breast before dismissing her.

“Alrighty here, what did the Foreman bring us now? Hmm. Well, you would certainly be a pleasure to fuck, wouldn’t you. A breeder? Damn, guess I won’t be doing that. Ah well.” He continues to read the small note you hadn’t noticed the Foreman give him. “Grade C, alright. So, you’re also due for a tramp stamp and potentially a tit tat. Tit for tat!” The man chuckles to himself. “No piercings of any kind. I guess we do have to leave your skin unpierced, because people buying breeders often don’t want any kind of piercings, so that will be up to whoever buys you. I’m positive you’ll sell.”

The man walks back to some small storage cupboard behind you but you can’t see what it is that he grabs. You feel a cold, wet cloth being run over the back of your neck before you feel what feels like a million pinpricks in such a rapid succession that the pain almost feels continuous. You feel him gently pat the area with a soft fiber. He then gets down on his haunches so that he can better access your womanhood. He sterilizes and begins shooting before you can catch your breath and this one takes a little longer than the other. Once again, he pays the area dry. You cannot see either of your tattoos at the moment.

“We’ll let the buyer worry about any breast tattoos. Less work for me, and that one is more of their preference. Especially if you’re taken by some kind of milk farm.”

You wonder about what he means by milk farm. Would they have you among cattle? Would you be the cattle? You’re unsure of what he means, and unsure of where he intends to sell you. This voyage was only supposed to be 3-4 hours, was it not? You ask the man this question.

“3-4 hours? Is that what they’re telling you guys now? No, it’s beyond just 4 hours. I suppose that’s what they tell the ones that don’t know the nature of this ship. No, we’ll be on the seas for over a day minimum, so get comfy. And for future reference, it’s probably better for you not to speak unless spoken to. The rest of ‘em aren’t quite as nice as me.”

The man walks out for a brief moment before returning with the Foreman. The Foreman unfastens you for your bindings in the stockade, finally freeing you. He picks up the leash that had been sitting on the ground as you shakily climb to full height. You try to readjust to see the tattoo above your mound, and decipher it from your upside-down perspective. “Baby Factory”. Oh God. You know that the tattoo you can never see on the back of your neck is a large letter C, like is found on many of the women down here.

The Foreman leads you to a long hallway along the side of the ship that elevates just above the oars. You see a long row of chains along the wall and small cages on the floor.

“Now, here on this ship, we haven’t much use for breeders, but we can always turn a profit by selling them to the highest bidder. This is where you will be stored until we reach the market. You will be given food and water, but not much else.”

The Foreman forces you to crawl back into the kennel before he unhooks your leash and closes the door to the kennel, instating the manual lock, and leaving.

All that’s left is to wait for market.