Begging For It: The Breeding Trilogy (Impregnation Erotica Book 4) (5 page)

Tom lifted a large bottle of lubricant from the drawer, removed the cap and squeezed a large load onto his hand. He reached forward and dropped it onto Jane's red, tender pussy, allowing much of it to drop to the sheets between her legs.

He turned, reaching for the pants he'd dropped to the ground, and returned carrying two sets of handcuffs. He held out his hand for Jane's, and she complied as he snapped one end around her wrist and the other around the side support of the bed. She watched, confused but quite calm, as he moved around the bed and secured her other hand, leaving her fully immobilized.

For the first time in minutes Tom smiled, but there was a darkness there. His dazzling blue eyes no longer looked like they contained humor, but desperation. He spun again, erratically, and strode towards the door, locking it with a quick flick of his wrist.

Finally he returned to the bed, sitting at the end where he began to massage the lubricant into Jane's tender pussy. She felt the cool gel soothe her, removing some of the raw pain from Tom's thrusting.

'I'm sorry,' he whispered, averting his eyes. 'this is my last chance to produce a child. I've tried with six before you, and I've failed.' He looked ashamed, almost on the verge of tears. 'if I fail once more they'll throw me out of the program. I've trained for this for ten years, and I can't let that happen.' He took a long, deep breath. 'So here's what we're gonna do. We're gonna stay here, in this room, and we're gonna keep trying as long as it takes to make a baby. I'm gonna fill you up, over and over. Sometimes it may feel as if you can't take any more, but we'll push past the pain. I'll fuck you until you drip with my cum, and then I'll fuck you again. Until we succeed you belong to me. Do you understand?'

Jane smiled, and spread her legs wide. She really didn't see the need for the cuffs. Like him, this is what she'd trained for.

'Silly boy, Tom,' she teased, realizing he didn't understand the depth of her love for the breeding program. 'That's what I'm for.'

This would be the start of a beautiful relationship.

CAPTIVE BREEDING

by

Aya Fukunishi

Chapter One

Adam's feet hurt. They always hurt. Always some blister, sprain or other malady plagued him as he walked, and through the thin, worn soles of his shoes his ankles informed him more insistently with each step that they needed a rest. He squinted against the bright sun, peering down the long, straight desert road for signs of a place to take a break.

Adam was a wanderer. He wandered. It was his thing. Most people mistook him for a bum, laughing as they drove by the slim, sunburned man treading slowly and deliberately beside the road. Adam wasn't surprised. He wasn't even surprised when people threw their spare change at his feet while he rested, or kindly offered their leftovers in a doggy bag while he sat outside a cafe, rubbing his aching heels.

He'd always take the offerings, too polite to inform them that he could easily afford to buy their family homes and use them as closets.

Adam's journey began some ten years ago, back when he was a different person. A combination of a vast inheritance, a sharp mind and boyish good looks had turned him into a truly grotesque fraction of a man. He was vain beyond belief, thoughtlessly cruel and selfish despite his immense wealth. He drove his real friends away, leaving only those with an eye on his money to remain, and there wasn't a soul on earth he could truly claim loved him.

His lowest ebb had come at the stroke of midnight on New Year's Eve, 2002. He'd thrown a grand party at his Manhattan penthouse, a sprawling, decadent two level suite with a lush garden that covered the entire roof of the West 75th street apartment. It was
his
night; the perfect end to a perfect year. Hundreds were in attendance, and on the street outside paparazzi lurked, waiting for shots of the actors, singers, models and assorted beautiful people as they poured out into the night.

Adam smiled as the countdown to midnight began, looking around for someone to kiss on the stroke of twelve. He found no one. His smile faltered and his hand dropped to his waist, spilling enough champagne to pay for an average family's groceries for a month.

He spun around, disoriented, and suddenly realized that he didn't
know
any of these people. These people who drank his champagne, ate his food and drunkenly fucked strangers in his many bathrooms... They weren't his friends. He recognized them from the movies, from TV and magazines, but he didn't
know
them, and they didn't know him. Not one of them could name the town where he grew up. Many, he realized, didn't even know it was his party.

Midnight arrived, and around him the revelers celebrated. Adam quickly made his excuses and retired to his room, and as he drifted into a fitful, drunken sleep he could still faintly hear the strangers laughing on his roof.

Adam's cleaner, Rose, a woman he'd employed for thirteen years, was away with her family the following day, but when she returned she found, in amongst the detritus of the party, a bundle of papers from Adam. The first was a personal note to her, thanking her for her long service. The second was a hastily drafted document bequeathing the majority of his fortune to her and her two children.

All he'd taken were a few items of clothing, his wallet and an old pair of sneakers.

Chapter Two

Adam sat in the dust by the side of the road, rubbing the soles of his feet. It had been two days since he'd last seen a bed and a shower, some 50 miles back through the desert. The previous night he'd walked until well after dark searching for somewhere to lay his head, but all he'd found was an old abandoned gas station. Now he was desperate for a shower and somewhere comfortable to sit.

Despite appearances, Adam's long years of wandering the land hadn't been all that uncomfortable. He'd abandoned his old life, leaving behind the Ferrari, floor seats to the Knicks and his daily massage with a happy ending, but he hadn't left every comfort behind. Regular contact with his accountant meant his credit card always worked, and the nights he'd spent out in the open were few and far between.

Most nights, in fact, he'd stroll into a pleasant hotel or bed and breakfast, dropping off his clothes to be laundered while he relaxed in a robe. It was only here, in the desert east of Reno, that he'd found it difficult to lay his head on a comfortable pillow.

Adam squinted once again down the road, struggling to see anything to the west thanks to the setting sun, but he fancied he saw a glint in the horizon. It was probably just the sun reflecting off an approaching car, but there was a chance it could be a building. He stood, stretching his tight, aching muscles, and set off in the direction of the twinkling light.

It was half an hour before he reached the building, sitting alone without a neighbor for miles around. It was little more than a large shack, its wooden walls topped with a corrugated iron roof. Out front lay a car park, at the entrance of which was a broken neon sign: Madame Elise's.

Adam laughed to himself, tickled that the first building he'd come across all day looked very much like it could be a whorehouse. He'd passed through this way a time or two, and while he'd never visited a brothel himself - back in his old life the 'escorts' had come to him - he knew it was legal out here.

He looked down the road, hoping to see another building to push on towards, but there was nothing but sand and dirt as far as the eye could see. He felt a little embarrassed about asking for a place to rest -
just
rest - but it didn't look as if any other opportunity would present itself.

In the years since leaving his old life behind, Adam had lost a lot of the brash self confidence that had come with the money. There was a time when he would have strode through the door and loudly demanded a room, certain that one would be provided for such an important customer. These days, though, his experiences had taught him to be meek. He slipped quietly through the creaking door, pausing at the entrance while he waited for someone to appear.

He didn't wait long. Within moments a beautiful young dark skinned girl rushed through the cramped reception area in tears, holding a handkerchief over her face as she wept silently. As soon as she'd arrived she was gone again, and Adam stood bemused.

Deciding to investigate, he made his way slowly through the reception towards the open door the girl had rushed through. As he walked he couldn't fail to notice that the interior of the building was much nicer than the facade. Where outside was bare wood and iron sheets the reception was decorated in the Japanese style, with tasteful cushions set around low tables decorated with sparse, artfully arranged flowers. He limped through, wishing he could fall down on the cushions and rest a while, but he felt he should do the decent thing and check to make sure the crying woman was OK.

As he reached the door the black woman returned, still sniffing, guided by an older woman who looked just as distraught. It was a few moments before she noticed Adam, and she jumped with a start.

'Good Lord, you scared the life outta me,' she gasped, recovering her composure. 'I'll be right with you, hon. Just gotta deal with my girl here. I'm sure you understand.'

Adam nodded and murmured his assent, shuffling out of the way to allow the two to pass. As soon as they'd gone he returned to a table, dropping heavily to a cushion and flexing his feet up and down to relieve the aches.

It was ten minutes before the older woman returned, by which time Adam had made himself as comfortable as he could on the thin cushions. He'd removed his shoes, but as soon as the woman appeared he quickly moved to replace them.

'Oh, don't worry yourself about those, hon,' she laughed, her accent thick with the desert. She sounded like she wouldn't be out of place running a whorehouse during the gold rush. 'We don't go in for formality around here, and most of our clients are considerably more undressed than you.'

Adam chuckled, leaving his shoes on the carpet and tucking his feet under his legs. 'Thanks, I appreciate it. My dogs have been barking all day.'.

The woman sized him up, narrowing her eyes. 'Yeah, you're the crazy fella walking from Winston, right?' she laughed when she saw Adam's look of surprise. 'No need to look so shocked, mister. The mailman passed you this morning. Told me some damn fool was trying to make it Clarksville on foot through the desert. I expected you'd drop by sometime. Ain't nowhere else to stop 'tween here and there. I'm just surprised you made it so quickly.'

Adam grinned, rubbing the life back into his feet. 'Well, I've had a little practice.'

'I dare say you have,' she said, winking as she took a seat beside him. It occurred to Adam that, while she sat a little too close for comfort, she wasn't at all bad looking despite what had obviously been a life spent worshiping the sun a little too much. She was slim and toned, showing off her body through an almost transparent negligee, and she clearly took good care of herself. Adam guessed she was headed towards 50, but he wouldn't be surprised if the mailman called a little more often than necessary and lingered a little too long. She was certainly a striking woman. She also seemed like the kind of woman who'd tell dirty jokes to a priest just to see his reaction, and Adam couldn't help but warm to her.

'Now,' she said, inching closer. 'What can we do for you today? I've got a lot of fine girls, but I'll warn you that we tend towards the exotic here. If you're looking for white bred I'm afraid you'll have to settle for me.'

Her smile told Adam that she wouldn't have a problem with that. He coughed uncomfortably. 'Actually, I hate to ask but I was hoping I could just take a room for the night. I've been walking for days, and beggars can't be choosers.' As soon as he'd said it he realized how that must sound. 'I mean... I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude. I just mean I couldn't find a regular hotel, that's all.'

The woman grinned at his discomfort, waving away the insult. 'Think nothing of it, hon. Of course you can stay the night. You sure I can't interest you in a girl, though? I've got some real knockouts working tonight.'

'No, thank you,' he replied. 'I can't say it's not tempting, but I'd really just like to rest.'

'Well, suit yourself. If you change your mind, just holler.' She reached into a pocket, drawing out a key. 'My name's Elise. My sheets are clean, and my girls are dirty. Can't say fairer than that. You'll find your room at the end of the hall, number one.'