e, enslaved

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3. Fictional characters over 18.

Now that she was so close to her due date that the doctor used days instead of weeks, Max stopped letting her orgasm.

"You don't need them," her former professor said. "Orgasms could trigger contractions that lead to accidental labor. You need to focus on being a good incubator for the baby."

But just because she didn't get to come anymore didn't mean he was going to restrict himself from using her body to jack off. She was still fully expected to give him a blowjob every morning, and to reach back and spread her cheeks for him to use her ass when he wanted it.

He had taken to using her other two holes for fucking, and then pulling out to empty his cum in her denied pussy. The most she got to experience was one or two quick pumps before he was spurting inside her, and then she got to feel his shaft softening inside her before he was gone again, leaving her pussy seething in a stew of their juices. 

She had started daydreaming about those early days of their relationship. Such a short span of time, most of their interludes lost in a daze of babymaking fever. Max had fucked her with singleminded intensity, blessing her cunt with cum on a regular basis. The thrill each time they had abandoned, wild sex, with her fully cognizant that this could be it, this might be getting me pregnant. 

And then it happened. She missed her period. Max supervised her in taking two separate pregnancy tests. When the tests showed the positive result, he banged her right against the bathroom counter, fucked her like a madman, molesting her tits and talking about how excited he was for her to start lactating, how he couldn't wait for them to get even bigger and heavier with milk. In her bedroom, he used the long silk belt of her bathroom robe to tie up her tits until she was panting at the constriction. He made her look at herself in the mirror.

"They're going to get even bigger than this," he said, groping the taut, bulging globes. 

He moved her out of the dorm and into his house the next day. He went with her to every doctor's appointment. He handled the cooking and meal prep, supervising her diet and nutrition. She withdrew her enrollment from the college, and quit her job working in the coffee shop on campus. 

As her pregnancy advanced, he stopped the rougher stuff. A pause, he called it. A temporary hiatus. He found other ways to dominate her. With the baby pressing on her bladder, she had to pee more frequently. He told her that she wasn't allowed to use the toilets in his house without his permission. So she had to ask him if she could use the bathroom, which she found humiliating. But not as humiliating as the times when he flat out refused, or ignored her, or didn't even allow her to ask because he had her wearing a gag. When he put her in the position of having accidents, and she wet herself and had to stand there, feeling urine trickling down her leg, that was really fucking humiliating.

He was so happy when her milk let down, because it was another way for him to control her. He decided when he would allow her to express the breastmilk. He experimented with making her wait. One time, he created the conditions where she peed herself at the same time milk was dribbling out of her nipples, wetting her shirt until the whole front was transparent and clinging.

One of her former classmates called her the other day, when she was just sitting on the sofa, waiting for him to come home.

"Hannah," her classmate said. "What's up with you? How have you been? I'm really struggling in this class without you."

Max came back while she was on the phone. He sat next to her and pulled down the neckline of her shirt until the fabric was totally stretched out and caught under her breasts. He lifted a breast to his mouth and started suckling, and she had to cover the phone with one hand to conceal her groan of abject relief.

"I'm, uh, doing all right," she said shakily. "Thanks for the call. I can probably give you my old notes, you know, in case it would be helpful."

"That would be amazing," her friend gushed. "Is there anything you need? What can I do for you? You must be getting pretty close to the delivery, right?"

"Uh huh," she managed to say. Max had started fondling her other nipple, tugging at it, and milk came out in a fine spray.

"Say goodbye for now," he growled. "I need to use my breeder's mouth hole right now."

There was dead silence on the phone, and she mumbled a quick, mortified goodbye, knowing full well that her classmate had heard her professor calling her a breeder. Oh, dear god.

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