The lives of the farmed

At last making it back to his own bedroom, Jesse only really intended to grab a change of clothes before heading to the showers. Betsy was there though, and as soon as she saw the state of him, he was dragged immediately into a suffocating embrace. She had been lying oddly upon her bed… naked, with a cushion under her hips and her feet halfway up the wall. Scrawled trails of marker pen seemed to be smudged across her skin, but Jesse didn't get much of a chance to work out what that was about.

"I have to stay like this for homework… It helps increase the chances of insemination." She said, while still insisting Jesse lie his head upon the pillows of her bosom and tell her everything that had happened. With his knees on the floor and face buried in a valley of soft flesh, Jesse recounted the up and down trials of his day. By the end the tears had returned a little, remembering the feel of rough concrete beneath him as stranger after stranger just walked on by. When all was said and done, Betsy cried "Oh, my poor baby!" and pulled him into a long and deep kiss.

The young man could taste what he realised must have been other men's cocks upon her tongue as she pushed it around his mouth. The alien flavors so strong that they almost made him gag a bit. Just how many must she have sucked upon, to make it so? He awoke to the fact that he'd been so busy complaining about his own troubles, that he hadn't asked Betsy about hers. Guilt of that selfishness hounded him until she finally broke off the kiss, pulling her little 'lapping away his tears' trick again like a mother cat with her young.

"Oh, nowhere near as... exciting as yours." she said. "They stripped us all down and took measurements of this and that… shoving some quite large and awkward things up inside of me. The training centre had all these representatives of the various breeding-centre corporations looking down on us from above, picking out who they might buy as they made us do stretches or jog up and down. A couple of the girl's got picked out and branded right away… but I wasn't one of those…"

Betsy tried to make this sound like an off-hand comment, but her friend could hear the slight hint of bruised pride behind. He got the distinct feeling that the girl did not find the requirements of being a good breeding sow as easy to meet, as those of being a top-of-the-class student. She'd been a teacher's pet for so long that coming in middle of the pack, with no textbook she could spend all night reading to catch up… was a jarring thought.

"They introduced us to some of the best breeders from various 'farms' and got us to um… suckle… on them during lunch." This clearly had been another shock to the system for the girl. She blushed bright red at some unseen memory, before speaking rapidly for a bit to escape it.

"There seems to be a whole lot of superstition wrapped up in the whole industry… not just science. They seem to think that us drinking the excess breast milk of successful breeders will make us better as well! I'm not so sure that's how it works but… Sandra was very lovely… She's just given up her 20th baby and is possibly moving out of the city to a smaller centre in the country. Apparently out where the AI farms grows most of our food, there's little villages of mechanics and engineers who still have to fix things when they break down. Breeders sent out that way get to raise their children to a much older age and are more sort of embedded in the community. People'll come right up and book them privately to have a child for them… so they can then trade it into the system for a certain type of slut they want. It's a lot more old-fashioned and wild out there. They don't trust the algorithm much at all…"

It was clear that this Sandra had made quite the impression on Betsy… Jesse had never heard her speak so enthusiastically about anyone other than, well, him. He surprised himself with a flash of… jealousy? at that thought. The girl carried on. Though she seemed a lot less interested in relaying the details of the rest of her day.

"Then they lined me and the girls up and all the representatives tried us out for the rest of the afternoon. It seemed like this was a big, looked-forward-to event on their calendar… They were all given free beers and pens to write on us and stuff. It was like a big party where we were just fucked over and over again by whoever happened to wander up."

There was a glazed look in her eyes, fairly similar to the one Jesse was sure he'd worn… as he was masturbated onto in the middle of a busy street. He looked down and realised he'd been lying on the words 'Sloppy Bitch' scrawled in unsteady hand onto Betsy's belly. The rest of her was a mess of similar poetry, written anywhere and everywhere they had felt like it. His wonderful genius of a friend… turned into little more than a notebook for cruel morons.