You struggle with the question.

A part of you wants to get free of this oversexed body, get your cock back. But another part of you revels in being a fuck toy.

John climbs off you, his long softening cock sliding pleasantly from you fertile sex, a surge of cum flowing free. “You know, I think I’m going to breed you again...” he says. Then you hear the sound of the typewriter. “There are breeders, a rare but valuable under class of women, their role is solely to breed. Again and again. Because they’re constantly in heat. Craving sex until they’re inseminated. Bambi is a breeder.” He says as he types. “You want to breed. Desperately...” he tells you. “And you will unquestioningly obey commands from everyone else. Only breeders are property. Because you’re too stupid to make decisions for yourself...”

You feel the mental changes being enforced on you. The hormonal shifts become an imperative. You shiver and whine in fear as the breeding urges take hold.

You notice your barcode changes slightly as other things move. Your breasts and nipples swell larger and your hips widen. You grow shorter. You’re sexier. Cuter. And much hornier. You lick your plump lips nervously.

“You’ll regret taking advantage of me Bambi... now go and get dressed you little slut...” he growls. You quiver in fear as you realise how fucked you are. Things can always get worse.