[Part One](https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/ihbfll/breeding_stock_mf_noncon_kidnapping_forced/) | [Part Two](https://www.reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/ihz6j8/breeding_stock_part_2_mf_noncon_pregnant/)
**One Month Later**
There was a period of calm not long after the birth. Not right away, of course. You had too much fun stretching out the agony of it for me, leaving me gaping open and filthy for a few days post birth. I’m not sure who the nurse was that you eventually got to help me, but she was just as cruel as you. There was no anesthesia as she stitched what needed to be stitched, her hands rough as she scrubbed me clean and dragged me over to a bed that that had been set up in the corner of your shed. The entire time, she kept talking about how beautiful my little baby girl had been. How she would be well taken care of by people who would love her. At first, it felt like she may have meant it as a comfort, to ease my worries, but as the hours and days stretched on, her jabs shifted to telling me that I would have been an unfit mother anyway.
What kind of daughter would a filthy, disgusting slut like me raise, anyway?
She was long gone, now, and with the exceptions of a few slaps and kicks and several blow jobs that you demanded while my body was too broken for you to fuck safely, The worst part was the milking. Hooked up for hours each day to a breast pump until I was sore and chaffed and then some. I couldn’t sleep on my stomach or with the blanket over my chest, anything that put pressure or sensation on my nipples was almost too much to bear. I wasn’t sure what you did with the bottles and bottles of milk I produced for you, but I didn’t think I wanted to know. You let me sleep and recuperate and that was more than I thought I would get.
Soon, your visits stopped all together. There was food left for me while I was sleeping, but no more visits. I thought you had abandoned me for the first several days, until I was able to catch sight of you going in and out of your house. I watched as you went about your daily tasks, taking care of the land, disappearing for hours at a time, even overnight sometimes.
You came back eventually, walking into the shed for a quick blowjob and to make sure I was still milking myself. I was disgusted to find that I was *happy* that you were there, that you were spending time with me.
And then you were gone again.
I don’t know how long you kept this pattern up, but I couldn’t stop the way I acted each time you came back. Somewhere deep in the part of my mind that was slipping steadily away, I knew it was a Pavlovian response, or Stockholm Syndrome, or something, but the rest of me didn’t care.
You were gone for a long time this time around. It had been almost two weeks since you had come in to see me. The shed was starting to get colder at night, and my body was almost back to normal. My cycle had even started up again, I had told you that the last time you had come in. I had started talking to you more, trying to get you to engage with me again, but that never happened.
Finally, finally, the creak of the shed door opening. I had been half asleep, but I knew the sound and the thud of your boots on the wood better than any other noise in the world. I also knew the sound of your belt being undone.
“Hello, Sir,” I said without prompting.
You reached out and gripped me by the hair, pulling me from the cot. It was such a shift from your usual visits, but more touch than I had gotten in so long. I moaned, trying to hide my face when my action hit me, but you gripped me tighter.
“Did you miss me that much, slut?” You reached down, between my legs, and I was more ashamed than ever to find how wet I was. My hips pressed down, trying to rub against your hand. “I’ll take that as a yes. Let’s see what we can do to fix that. It’s about time I fuck another baby into you, don’t you think?”
I didn’t have time to answer before your cock was down my throat. I choked and gagged as you took my face rougher than you have since That Night, but it only spurred you on. You talked the entire time, which was new. Telling me how you couldn’t wait to see my stomach get nice and fat again. How my tits would never stop producing milk.
You kept up the litany of your plans for me even as you pulled out of my mouth and dragged me back to the bed, bending me over it and shoving your fat cock into me from behind.
You told me how ruined my cunt would be by the end of it. How you would breed me, over and over and over again, for as long as I could keep producing children. I would be a good slut for you, a good piece of breeding stock, and there was nothing I would ever be able to do about it. No one would want me, you said, not after how wrecked my filthy cunt was. How many of another man’s babies I had pushed out. How wrecked and disgusting of a slut I was.
I felt myself tightening around your cock as your words raced through me. You were right, of course. Who would ever want me? I was used up and a mess and I could hear how wet I was for you. I was fucked up. Completely fucked up. No one would ever want me. Not ever again.
I felt you fill me with your cum, grabbing my throat and pulling me closer so you could whisper in my ear, “No one will ever love you the way that I love you.”
I believed you. Deep down in my soul, I knew you were right.
And I came.
Hard.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/inarte/breeding_stock_part_three_mf_noncon_breeding