Bred for Riches: Billionaire's Breeding Dungeon

Bred for Riches: Billionaire's Breeding Dungeon
By Arthur Mitchell

Content copyright © Arthur Mitchell. All rights reserved.

Published in the United States of America.

First published in November, 2012.

The following is a work of fiction. Any resemblance it may hold to persons living or deceased is entirely coincidental.

All individuals depicted in this work are adults over the age of eighteen years old.

About This Work


Rebecca has no one to blame for submitting to a wealthy billionaire's breeding desires. No one, that is, except herself. He's promised her millions for one year of total slavery, far more than the out of place woman could ever hope for.

What she doesn't know is that Aaron Westfield is more than just an impregnation obsessed monster. Her rough start in his personal dungeon quickly changes when he takes her out one evening, bathing her in the opulence that only high class wealth brings.

Soon, Westfield isn't just her Master in name only. Rebecca is shocked to find herself craving this man and his many secrets. Breeding his heir promises her more than marvelous wealth. It hints at wonders that will drive her freely into his arms, and secrets that will chill her blood.

This story contains uncensored scenes of sultry domination, impregnation sex, and passionate intrigue.

An erotic romance novelette of over 8,500 words.

Warmth in a Cold Chamber

Rebecca Redfield was dreaming of sex when she awoke, tied to a steel chair. The dream came in fitful sensations rather than clear visions.

She didn't know how long she had lingered in the darkness, feeling heavy breaths puffing on her skin.

In her dreams, a faceless stranger had slammed her against the wall

Her body spiked onto his pulsing shaft, curled deep within her, preparing to explode at any second. The man growled in her ear as he pinned her shoulders down against the cold brick.

“This is where you belong. Wake up, honey. Wake up and find out what it's really like to feel this happening to you. Trust me, his seed will be a thousand times warmer than this.” He grunted and began to flood her writhing sex.

Rebecca's moans accompanied her into the waking world again. Her legs shifted together, reminding her of the wetness concealed beneath her thin black fabric.

She raised her head up and winced at the discomfort needling through her jaw. The men who had brought her to her buyer's dungeon had left her blindfolded and gagged.

They had dropped her off in the spartan room several hours ago. The men said that their master would be back soon, but “soon” meant half a day.

I must be going nuts,
she thought, her inner voice the only company she had.
I was ready to give it all
up...but I didn't think they would take the whole slavery bit so seriously. I wonder when Mister what'shis-face will show...

A loud click in her ears sent a shock up her back and shattered her ruminations. She was so sleepy and cold that she hadn't noticed the headphones against her ears until now. A strong voice started to speak softly, as if it were a transmission from the dreamworld she had left behind.

“Good evening. If you're listening to this, then you already know why you're here. My name is Aaron Westfield, but to you, I'm simply

You'll be pleased to know that the first five hundred thousand dollar deposit is on its way to your bank account. Unfortunately, the pay is where your pleasantries end, and mine begin.

You, dear girl, are here to serve my desires. I'm paying good money for your service, and I expect to be compensated in all the ways you dare imagine, and some which you probably haven't.

Money can buy most anything, and it's meaning starts to fall by the wayside once you've gotten enough of it. If it weren't for money, you wouldn't be here, waking up in my chilly basement, confused and tied to a chair.

Take a moment to breath deeply and relax. Before I go over the rules, I want you to remember one thing: you chose this.

You didn't have to take the multi-million dollar deal at the interview that your pretty little face got you into. You didn't have to get into the black sedan with my associates, not even after they'd blindfolded your eyes and shoved you into the back of the car. You didn't have to give up your youth and become a high class whore, using your connections to get to me.

Thank your people, your friends, who are much darker than you'll ever be. They've led you to a strike a deal few women can ever contemplate.

Over the next few months, no matter how uncomfortable or angry you get, don't you dare let slip any complaints. I won't listen because
put yourself in this position – no one else. Like any other highly compensated employee, it's up to you to accept your responsibilities.

Unlike any other job, enslavement is a one way trip. There's no walking off the job or getting fired.

After taking my money, you're sworn to secrecy and service – no ifs, ands, or buts.

Now, let's talk about rules. The boundaries of this game are simple, but my tastes are not. You'll learn them as you go, but I want you to keep these beginner's rules in mind as you adjust to your new position:

To you, I'm
. Never Mister Westfield and certainly not Aaron.

Your body should remain accessible to me at all times. You have no right to complain about how late I come to you, or why I've decided to keep you naked in a basement. You chose this, after all.

Finally, I expect full cooperation when I make my appearance. You're to treat myself and all associates in this household with the utmost respect. You're no longer a free woman, but a slave, pressed into total bondage for the next twelve months, as our contract states.

Don't go crying to the local police or God about your rights. You gave those up.

If you're a religious person – which I very much doubt since you're here – then you know how to keep the faith. Your service to me won't be forever. No pleasure or pain I inflict on you lasts indefinitely, and neither do these lives.

In exchange for giving up your freedom now, the money I'm paying you each month is plenty to grant you luxurious liberties for the rest of your life. Consider my interest in your flesh a privilege.

It's not every woman who's considered beautiful enough to land in a billionaire's basement. You're here at my whim, and your body is my rental property, to do with as I like.”


The recording stopped with a sharp crackle. The silky stockings trailing down Rebecca's legs were slick with sweat as she stared at the floor, her chest rising and falling in great waves.

Oh, no, no, no. This is a big mistake. A huge fucking mistake.

Her cheeks flushed with rose blossom redness. When her head came up again, she saw a large mirror off to the side. The sight of her trembling body caused her to groan.

The sound of a door slamming came from beyond the headphones. She tried to turn her head, but whoever entered the room remained out of sight. A long shadow fell upon her from behind.

Rebecca tried not to scream or shake too much. She knew that showing weakness wouldn't be

appreciated – not after she'd told her captors that she was perfectly fine in helpless situations.

A loud ripple tore up from her throat and curled against the gag as a large, calloused hand brushed against her cheek. Stubble grazed the upper tip of her ear. A pair of smooth lips opened and spoke, pulling the headphones aside.

“Welcome, my little pet. Your service begins now. Are there any special conditions I should know about?” Aaron drew away and rounded toward her front, exposing himself to her in the flesh for the first time.

She didn't know whether to laugh or cower. The man in front of her was in his early thirties and dressed as though he had just stepped out of an important business meeting. He wore the finest gray suit she had ever seen – not that Rebecca had noticed very many.

Slowy, he reached around to the back of her head and brought his fingers through her hair. He stopped halfway down and undid the clasp holding the gag in her mouth.

“There. I'm only going to ask you once more: are there any special conditions I should know about? I have your full medical history, so don't think about lying to me. I'm thinking more about psychic and sensual concerns.”

Rebecca tried to think quickly as she ran her tongue over her dry lips, freed from the uncomfortable rubber ball. “I had a knee injury a couple years ago, back in my last year of High School volleyball.

Please don't put much pressure there.”

The billionaire's V-shaped shoulders bulged as he folded his arms. Both his eyebrows rose like flags – a signal of how stupidly trite her confession sounded.

It wasn't much better in Rebecca's ears. She wanted to kick herself for wasting his time.

Come on, Rebecca. Think. Think!

Visions flashed before her eyes. She remembered the dream, a stranger's hot come flooding her, and a new concern flared in her brain.

“I'm not on birth control. When you use me...please use a condom or make some other arrangements,”

she said, forcing a large knot down her throat.

“Ah, yes. I'm aware of your little shortcomings. Unfortunately, when I told you on the recording that I'd taken full possession of your body for the next twelve months, I meant
of your body.” He clasped his fingers together tightly and pressed his folded hands against his chest, stopping along his lower abdomen.

“But...Master, I'm sorry, I didn't think you would want those kinds of consequences. I can't get knocked up like this,” she said, a pathetic tension distorting her last words.

His title sounded strange on her lips. She secretly hoped that he would be satisfied hearing it. Perhaps by showering him with enough respect, he would grant her some small reprieve.

A low chuckle rumbled through his throat, spilling outward and bouncing off the walls. “I keep forgetting how much money means to you. Anyone would guess that I would've figured it out by now.

You're my – what? – fourth girl that I've had in a yearly contract?”

He stopped and held up his fingers, plucking off four as he counted. Then he lowered his head and turned his eyes into dark pools. They threatened to draw her in and hold her there forever.

“I've been thinking about what's going to happen to all of this when I'm gone someday. I'm already past thirty with no prospects of marrying – probably because I don't want anything to do with the arranged marriages my peers enjoy. Still, a man needs an heir, and it just so happens that you've shown up when it's been on my mind...”

Damn it. Just my luck that I would remind him of something so unnatural...

But Rebecca wasn't sure it was so unnatural, so horrible. An uncomfortable itch started in her lower abdomen, flowering outward, until it wrapped around her sex. The discomfort gradually gave way to a wet pulse, like the kind she had felt when waking from the dream.

“I came down here to sample your skills and see what your little body has to offer me. Maybe if you do a good enough job with your other talents, I won't bother hurling you to the ground and breeding you like an animal. But no promises, Rebecca.
is at my discretion here.”

He moved inward until his large frame enveloped her, letting his dark red tie fall toward her face. His hands busily worked the back of the chair, loosening the cord that kept her in place. Rebecca cowered beneath him, feeling two soft globes shaking and glistening with sweat underneath her black bra.

Rebecca struggled out of the black cord, stretching her arms. He held the rope limp in his hands and stared at her.

Well...this is what I'm here for, after all.

Her thoughts weren't terribly reassuring, but duty called. Both her hands darted toward his smooth dark trousers, the gleaming zipper dancing before her in the dim light.

She pulled on it and crouched on her knees. Her eyelids fluttered painfully as the damaged knee touched the floor, but shifting her weight made it tolerable.

It was her only imperfection on a perfect young body – one she managed to hide. An old sport's injury wouldn't hold her back in this or anything.

The billionaire's erection sprang out as soon as she reached in. It was surprisingly normal, thick and hot, a stiff tube that expected perfection.

“Go on. Do it, slave. I'll be surprised if you can satisfy this cock with your mouth and hands, but you're welcome to try.” Aaron closed his hands, pressing his palms to her temples.

She shuddered from the pressure but leaned down, taking all eight inches in her mouth. Rebecca had never shied away from her sexuality. She was barely a freshman in High School when she learned to please a man with her mouth, but this was a test she never imagined.

Surely, a wealthy entrepreneur's nerves are different from an inexperienced boy's – aren't they?

The way his shaft shook and drooled into her mouth made her question old assumptions. Within seconds of her sharp tongue pressed to his underside, he was groaning, and dragging her cheeks further into his crotch.

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