Seven Months Later

"Any day now" the vet said as he removed he's left hand from inside of her and his right from feeling her distended womb. "Its been about seven months since we acquired this one and by my guess she was already two months pregnant. She should whelp sometime this week." The doctor was speaking to the man that Amy now knew was truly her master. The owner of the Happy Acres Stud farm, and a purveyor of the finest goods that could be produced from the trade of breeding women. "Good to hear Doc, we can get this one out of the way, let her heal, and get her right back onto her back. Since we got her for a steal, she should break even with this first pup and then we can turn a profit off of her easily." Formerly, Amy would have turned as red as her hair if she had heard someone talking about her like that, but three months at sea and seven at a breeding farm had removed any sense of pride or shame she had. Now she just focused on the sweet relief that flooded up her chest as the milking machines drained her flooded teats of their milk. She was milked on a less frequent basis to try and make up for her small bust, that meant that she was often in agony by the time she was led out of her cell in the morning to be milked like the cow she knew she was.

Amber was bent over and locked in the now familiar position of the breeding stocks. She was on top on a stainless steel table, on her knees, with a padded bar at her waist, chained to an upright pole under her neck. Her pregnant womb and milk-filled teats hung below her, swaying gently any time she shifted positions slightly. The gentle sucking sound emanating from the two pumps attached to her nipples beat a dull tattoo as they worked away at her larger, but still pert mammaries.

"We should seclude her until she's birthed, we don't want any of the farm hands or studs to damage her if she's in her normal pen. She's too small to stand much punishment." the master said. "When's the last time someone blew some seed into her?"

"She's been cleaning off studs since she's got here, and a few of the hands blew loads into her at the beginning. But we've kept her pretty secluded from the studs since then. No need to waste seed if she's already plugged. Last time was six weeks ago, one of the new hands snuck in at night and filled her." the vet said, reading Amy's chart which contained all of the information about her, including how many times, when, where, and how she'd been taken. This farm was involved in what is known as "boutique breeding" and the master needed to know exactly who the sires might be.

"She'll be cock hungry by the time she's whelped then." said the master. "We can get her in rotation with some of the other rarer types. I'd like her knocked up again within a few weeks if possible."

"We can certainly try." Replied the vet as he unchained Amy from the post. The master unhooked her from the milk pump, feeling each teat after doing so, eliciting one final stream of milk onto the table from each nipple.

Five minute later, Amy was being led past her old cell, which now contained a plump brunette who was being railed by a team of farmhands on their lunch break. With each stroke of the current occupant of her cunt, cum flowed out of her pussy, down her stomach, and pooled in between her large teats, which spilled to either side of her chest. The two lines tattooed on her forehead indicated that she'd already been bred twice and was now being prepared to do so again.

Amy was lead to the far end of the breeding barn, through a hanging plastic buffer that separated the breeding quarters from the birthing quarters. On either side of the narrow track she now walked, were cells where heavily pregnant women were sat, waiting to birth. Amy was led to the sixth, and final cell and led in. There she saw the same straw that blanketed the floor of the whole barn, a pole with hand rails mounted to it, and small, clean mattress in the corner. On top of the mattress was a clean, blue blanket folded in a neat square. The first article of cover Amy had seen since being stripped and fucked on the ship so many months ago.

As the door closed and locked behind her, Amy took stock of her surroundings. Camera's were mounted in every corner of the room, staring down into it and at her, the little red light in the corner indicating that they were watching her. From another cell, she could hear the muffled yells of another sow that was currently birthing, it welcomed her to the next few days of her life ,waiting until she too would find the trio of old slaves that served as the veterinarian's assistants during a birth. Each of them had born many pups in her day, a fact attributed by the dozen or more lines tattooed on their bodies to indicated exactly how many. Their wombs now barren, teats now dry, these women served to usher the fresher stock into their lot in life.