Bound to Breed(PM to join)

It started with the US going to war in the Middle East... Iran, Iraq, Afghanistan... they became a perpetual war zone, the already so few days of peace the areas had dwindled until not a single day went by without violence. At first, it seemed the US might have been doing alright, but after a few years of fighting, their hold on the territories was slipping. Instead of pulling out when they should have, the country kept fighting, and soon the entire operation fell into ruin.

Seeing the US at such a weak point, their military nearly depleted by the wars over seas, other countries seized the opportunity to wage open war on the once might nation's home front. The US's economy was one of the worst in the world by this point, and the country simply could not afford to fund a war on both their own turf and overseas. They fell easily, and soon after, the countries that had banded together to take over began to war amongst themselves over who would hold the seat of power in the former US territories.

The wars that ensued lasted nearly 50 years... with several governments establishing themselves, only to fall shortly thereafter. Finally, after that 50 year war was over, a single power had formed itself, and it held power over not only the US, but a good portion of Europe and Asia as well. It was only a matter of time before they extended their reign, creating a new world order.

During the war, slavery became more and more common. People were snatched right off the street, sometimes in broad daylight. At first, it was said that they were taken as prisoners of war, but after a while this illusion wasn't holding up any longer... The black market's slave trade became one of the most lucrative businesses in the world. Seeing this, the new government seized the opportunity to profit from such business ventures and legalized slavery. Now, no one is safe... Least of all women.

Slavery does not discriminate race, sex, religion, or even bank account size. You're captured, registered as a slave by the company(be they large or small) that caught you, and put on the market, never to be free again unless your freedom is bought back from the government and your owner signs your release papers.

Along with the slavery of those captured off the streets, some companies have endeavored to breed slaves, saving themselves the hassle of having to kidnap, register, and then train people who were previously free. They set up massive breeding facilities, housing both male and female slaves, all selected based on DNA and genetics in hopes of producing ideal off spring. The higher the quality of the slave, the better they sell on the market.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

One such facility houses both male and female slaves, but also breeds some of their female slaves with male clientele who pay to come in and get the women pregnant. Only the most wealthy of clients can afford such things, however, and you have to be extremely well off to afford to be able to not only get the slave pregnant, but then be able to pay for your child afterward. In some instances, the breeder slaves in these scenarios are also sold to those they've produced a child for.

The latest slave to be brought to the breeding facility was not born into this lifestyle. In fact, she was born the youngest daughter of a middle class family, her father's pride and joy. Unfortunately for her, Daddy had a gambling problem... and when he fell into debt, he began embezzling money from his own computer company. Soon, the company went under and the debts were piled too high for him to get out of them. As his only child still living at home, daddy's little girl was taken to pay off his remaining debts.

Simply snatched off the side walk one day as she was coming home from her classes at the local college, she was taken, registered, her medical records and history were looked through, her DNA studied, and soon she was being sold in a high priced slave auction. Bought by one of the largest slave breeding companies in the world, the young woman, barely 18, was given laser surgery to remove all hair from her neck down to her toes, and then housed in one of their high security breeding facilities, as one of the few slaves who would be used to entertain clientele. If she didn't attract any who wished her to produce their offspring, she would also be bred with male slaves.

But based on the girl's fair, creamy skin, stunning body, tight pussy, and the fact that the first man to have her would also be popping her cherry, the manager of the establishment seriously doubted they'd have a hard time finding someone who was interested in her.

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Name: Kitten (Formerly Skye Blackwell)
Slave ID Number: 2315
Hair: Long, soft, wavy and flame red
Eyes: Light Blue
Skin tone: Creamy, flawless
Build: Curvy but delicate
Height: 5'1"

((Please note that to join, you must be willing to play a male character, your posts must be at least a paragraph or two long(the longer the better), you should have proper grammar and punctuation, and you have to be comfortable with rape scenarios. I'm hoping to have this progress from constant rape scenarios to include perhaps some romance, if the characters develop to that point. My idea is to have whoever joins play at least one client. The character in question can be anything from rough and demanding and borderline abusive(though bear in mind that when she's in the breeding house, he can't cause too much damage because they do not want the women to miscarry), to gentle and caring. How you play the character is up to you. I may be open to there being a female character involved as well, but there HAS to be a male character. The other female could be the male's wife or something if they haven't been able to have a child on their own. This would have to be something we discussed at length, and either both characters would have to be played by you, or you'd have to find someone to play the other female.

Please PM me with a character idea and I'll pick whoever I think fits best with what I have in mind for the story. Also, if you do not have a high post count in the SRP section, you would probably do best to send me an example of your writing... If I don't have a lot to look at in your other posts, I probably will pass over you.))

Name: Marcus McNeil Burlington
Age: 26
Height: 5'9
Weight: 174lbs
Hair: Black, high and tight cut
Eyes: Orange
Physical Build: Stocky
Distinguishing marks: Tattoo's cover his arms. Scars litter his chest and back. Covering the gnarled muscles and rugged skin.

Biography:

Born amidst war and to a lower class family Marcus did the only thing that was logical. At the young age of fourteen he joined a militia, lying about his age, and putting in the hard work required to live in this volatile world. His parents will killed two years after he ran away, and all four of his sisters had been taken by the slavers while he was around ten years old.

Having all of this happen to him at such a young age, Marcus had quickly developed the thickest of skins and hardest of hearts. He could kill anyone or anything, drink with some of the biggest men, and fuck any of the most rebellious bitches. His attitude towards leadership and tactical experience quickly got him promoted, and now he has been fighting for 12 years.

He now has his own units, the best of the best with strong DNA to boot, so on behalf of the government they are often treated to various breeding facilities. And while Marcus isn't the wealthiest fighter, he is quickly becoming one.

There is, however, some form of a conscience in him. He has been searching for his sisters all of these years, and he swears that if he ever finds one he will kill anyone and everyone who's ever touched her. His men aren't sure what to say when he goes on those drunken binges, yelling these things with hot tears dripping from his eyes, because he never remembers and whenever they ask him in a sober state he knows just how ridiculous it is that he will ever find one of his sisters.

+++===+++===+++

Explosions filled the night air. Hot, hissing lead leaped through the sky; tracers arching to find the first piece of hot flesh they could find or if none at all they would thud dully into the cool sand. Screams, shouts, and the metallic bark of guns firing added to the cacophony of sound. Among them all Captain Marcus Burlington was both the loudest and firmest, bullets splattered sand and pushed a gentle breeze across his face and he could care less. The troops called him M&M because of his middle name, McNeil, it had nothing to do with the candy that was no longer in production on this once divided planet.

Soon it would all be there's, and right now Marcus and his band of cronies were busy making it all theirs. "Jackson! Jackson!" His booming voice searched and found his heavy gunner.

"Yo M&M, what you need?"

"I told you at the start of this fucking mission that I wanted SUPPRESSIVE fire! Why the hell ain't they suppressed?"

"Sorry suh,"

"You're gonna be sorry in about two minutes when we're all dead, now get the fuck on it!"

"Yes'r!" Jackson quickly ran off.

Marcus crouched behind a thick sand embankment just as a laser hummed through the air where his head had been only moments before. He looked up with a grin and raised his middle finger to the bright light as it slowly faded. "Alright cocksucker, that was too fucking close, time to get going." He muttered into the barrel of his machine pistols. He tore the Velcro strap holding a small padded container to his thick bicep and then opened it carefully. He pulled a syringe out, full of a rapidly acting drug about one hundred times more powerful then your typical adrenaline drug, mixed with a bit of morphine, and some crack cocaine. The moment the plunger was pushed he wouldn't be able to feel pain at all, and he'd be able to run, jump, and react ten times quicker then previously thought possible.

"Get ready to move in!" His voice and body were very strong for a man of his short stature, and that was why absolutely nobody questioned his orders, even in the face of suicidal gunfire.

In a second he plunged the drugs into his veins and took off. Like a bolt of black lightning he streaked across dead man's zone and into the enemy rear. His machine pistols chattered hotly as he destroyed two machine gun teams and then brought both guns to bare on the man who seemed to be in charge. As their guns silenced he roared, "GO GO GO!" And on his men came in a shout... Victory was his that day!

The memory of that day was always a sweet one. Not only had they crushed the opposition, but they'd also "put down" several of the most vocal political leaders who had been hiding out at that camp. In fact that was why it had been so heavily guarded. The Government's intelligence had been fault of course, it was supposed to have been a simple weapons raid and demolition of ammunition and supplies for the opposition, but instead they had ran into the honor guard of several big time political fish.

The fact that they were able to overcome the opposition and eliminate the political figures had earned their unit the Distinguished Unit Citation and several other individual awards. Now they were being brought back to one of the major companies, owned by a powerful member in the Government, for what he called a real reward. Marcus smiled when he remembered the conversation as he shook the man's hand in front of the press:

"Don't worry Captain, these little pieces of medal ain't all you're gettin. You see my wife? You think I got her cause of my good looks?" They had both laughed, before moving to join the others for a group picture.

Marcus had gone immediately to research the man and found that he owned and operated one of the largest breeding industries in the world. Right then and there he had been tempted to jack off. The Captain had been with his fair share of slaves and prostitutes, but to go to a real breeding company and try one of their ridiculously expensive pieces of assess would be the best reward he could think of, though he had his doubts that the man would come through.

But apparently he hadn't forgotten about Marcus at least, and when he saw the invitation three months later, written with gold ink, he had gotten a fucking boner.

That was where he was now. Looking very uncomfortable in a suit, tie, and dressy shoes. He had wanted to wear his uniform, but mercenaries weren't given any standard uniforms and he didn't feel like buying his own dress one, so he had bought this suit for one of his men's funerals and decided it was nice enough to where into this massive complex. He was waiting now to be greeted by the chairman. His eyes flickering lazily back and forth between the secretary, the phone, and the clock on the wall as he silently felt the sweat trickling down the small of his back.

The secretary behind the large desk in the front office was a slave. That much was obvious from the sleek, stainless steel collar around her neck, the company symbol lit up in LEDs hanging from a small pendant at the front of the collar. The pendant had multiple purposes... it held he slave registry information, detailing who she belonged to and what her uses were, but it also showed clearly to the world that she was off limits, the blue LED symbolizing that she was a worker slave, not to be used for any other reason without her owner's direct consent. Oddly enough, in a place like this... to be a worker slave and not a breeder actually put you lower on the food chain. It meant that for whatever reason, you were deemed unworthy of passing along your DNA to the next generation of slaves.

After a few moments of sitting there typing away at her console, the multi-line conference phone chimed at her. Picking up the receiver, she listened for a long moment. "Yes, Master," she said simply, before hanging up the phone and standing. The movement showed that she was dressed in a skirt and suit jacket, both expensive and probably tailored especially to fit her. "Mr. Douglas will see you now." She flashed him her pretty, polite smile and waited for him to stand before leading him down a short hallway. Here, she allowed a hand print reader to scan her hand before the door would let loose a soft hiss of air.

Pulling it open, she stepped aside and let him file past her into the area beyond. Where the rest of the building had been sleek and decorated in glass and chrome, this area was done in solid woods and rich, dark fabrics. He'd find a man sitting behind a massive desk sitting in the room, and when the man stood, he grinned at the young captain. "Captain Burlington, welcome to ZiCore Breeding Industries." He was the same man who'd shaken his hand at the award ceremony, and now he shook the younger man's hand once again.

"I think you will find yourself quite satisfies with our facilities, Captain. I hand picked your girl personally. She just arrived at the facility yesterday. Her name is Kitten." Grabbing a slender screen, he handed the viewing pad to Marcus. The screen was lit up, showing the girl's information, along with a selection of smaller photos that, if he were to touch them, would expand to full size to show a head shot, a clothed full body shot, and a nude full body shot. The nude shot would show her standing, her body hairless, with curves in all the right places but a distinctively fragile look to her. "Based on your profile, she seemed like an ideal match."

All of the specifics on the girl were listed, including the interesting(not to mention rare) fact that she was a virgin. "If she's to your liking, my secretary will show you to the rooms. You've been given a suite as well as a 48 hour pass, should you decide to stay that long. All food and anything else you might need can be provided for you."

Marcus was not surprised to find Mr. Douglas in such a plus and rich office. Why the desk alone had to cost a couple thousand credits. He did still feel a bit nervous, and hot in the damn suit. He managed to shake hands fine, but found nothing to say even as Mr. Douglas explained about his reward in such an offhand and casual matter. He scanned the glass template in front of him several times over, just to make sure it was really there. Tentatively he touched the screen and watched as 'Kitten' expanded to take up the whole screen.

Even with all the nervous energy inside of him Marcus was able to keep his cock from expanding like a balloon.

"She'll do just find Mr. Douglas," While he had read that she was a virgin it didn't quite compute at the moment. Most, if not all of the females Marcus had met were no longer virgin's and they often made no bones about the fact that they were raped at a young age, or forced to do things that quickly removed any hint of innocence from their lives. That was what made Marcus completely forget about anything he read or heard about her, there was a sort of innocent delicateness to this girl that his eyes and dick both hardily approved of. "Thank you Mr. Douglas. It was a real pleasure meetin ya, if you ever need anything you know who to call."

"Hahaha, damn right boy! You sure are expensive, but you're damn worth it, damn worth it, alright. Now hurry along and have some fun. I'll want to see you before you leave, just to review some things, really nonsense."

"Sure thing Mr. Douglas, sir."

"Good, that's good. Okay, the suite is to the left, right down the hall."

"Thank you sir."

Marcus took a deep breath upon shutting Mr. Douglas's door behind him. There was something strange about that man, he was too friendly, and too fucking smart. He glanced over at the secretary who was undoubtedly smiling on the inside, but she wouldn't have let her face show it on pain of death. With a quick nod he headed to the left.

The suite doorway was easy to find. It read boldly, "VIP Only. Welcome to ZiCore Suite and Lounge." A pleseant, robotic, female voice welcomed him as he stepped into the doorway.

"Welcome Mr. Burlington. If you have any questions I will be available for assistance."

Marcus hated those things, "How do I turn you off?"

"Just ask Mr. Burlington."

"Turn the fuck off." He stated coldly, as he shut the door behind him and locked it. The fact that everything was automated pissed him off sometimes. He liked doing things the hard way. Especially exploring new surroundings.

He saw that his pack was already in the room, minus his firearm which was surrendered to security earlier in the day. It rested between a large lazy boy and comfortable couch, both of which faced a massive one-hundred inch flat panel TV/entertainment center that was built into the wall. Behind the chairs was a bar, around which led into the kitchen that was decked out to the nine's. Off from the kitchen was a small bathroom. From the doorway where he stood, straight back there was a hallway towards the bedroom which he took.

In front of him was a massive King sized bed. Spread out on the bed were two open cases about six feet long each, in each were plenty of different toys and devices he'd seen before. Some he'd used to torture prisoners, like whips and tasers, while others he'd used on a few slaves before. Ball gags, handcuffs. He smiled and looked around. He spotted several frames and benches that didn't quite belong, so he supposed they were from his profile.

"That woulda been interestin to read," He drawled, before heading into the massive bathroom. It was divided in half by glass that could be turned into a mirror or solid black glass, there was a toilet inside and out, a sink inside and out, and a jacuzzi inside along with ten different shower nozzles and sprays. It was quite fancy.

Finally he came back out into the main room and headed for the mini-bar that was parked underneath the television, out of which he poured a glass of vodka and sipped it heavily. Vaguely he wondered where his slave was, but he wasn't about to turn on that damn computer just to find out, she'd show up in due time, in the meanwhile he entered the kitchen in search of some grub.

A few minutes after he had made his way back into the kitchen, a panel in the bedroom wall slid to the side and through it stepped a young, obviously nervous and half panicked Kitten. She bit her lower lip softly, tugging down on the bottom of the long sleeve button up shirt she wore. She wasn't positive, but from the smell of it... it couldn't possibly be new, and it belonged to a man... It still carried the hint of a man's cologne despite being clean.

The sleeves were rolled up to be just above her wrists, while the shirt itself fell to just above mid thigh, showing off her long shapely legs. Her hair had been left down and the people who had prepared her had mussed it a bit with their fingers, giving it enough of a free look that said she could have just rolled out of bed and simply run a comb through it without styling it. A necklace hung around her neck, a pendant like the one the secretary had hanging from it, except the LEDs on this one were red, showing she was a breeder slave.

The slave who'd done her hair had told her the man she was servicing was some sort of combat hero... and that two days with her was his prize for a job well done. She was trying to hold back tears and keep her hands from shaking as she followed the sound of activity down the hall and into the main area of the VIP suite.

As soon as she reached the end of the hallway, she stopped and stared wide-eyed at the decor. For being new and not likely being high demand, they certainly had pulled out the stops. The sound of someone to her right made her jump, and she spun to face that direction, taking several steps back as she did so. She had the look of a frightened animal backed into a corner as she looked at the man who stood there.

He wasn't incredibly tall, but something about him was intimidating. He had a rough around the edges look to him despite the suit he wore.

Marcus hadn't heard the sound of the panel sliding open, and neither had he heard the light footsteps on the thick carpet. So he was just as surprised, but hardly as worried, when he stood up from pulling a large handful of grapes out of the fruit section of the fridge. He grinned a bit, and let the bushel of grapes drop back into the fridge as he turned on his heels to face the newcomer. In the process of turn he not only kicked the fridge shut, but also loosened his tie roughly. He didn't remove, having better ideas on how to do that filtering through his mind already.

Kitten was everything her name and profile summed her up to be for him. Perfect. That look, her eyes, the smooth legs poking out of his ten sizes too large shirt were perfect. Hell, even her toes and feet were perfect, curled nervously along with her fingers at her side.

"Hello Kitten," A swaggering rush of confidence slipped over Marcus.

Gone was the nervous underling from Mr. Douglas's office, in his place stood a confident Captain who had killed, fucked, and drank with the most dangerous men in the world. He picked his half-empty glass of vodka off the counter as he walked over to Kitten. While he would never admit it publicly, having a girl that was over six inches shorter then him was something that he enjoyed enormously. It just gave his already powerful presence an added edge that exhilarated him and it was already having an effect on his hostess.

She knew why she was here. He could tell instantly, so instead of explaining or doing anything other then the polite hello he had already offered he simply took another sip of his vodka and gave his orders in a crisp, clear, and quite dangerous voice. "I'm sweaty, tired, and hungry. I'm also fucking horny as hell right now. So here's what yer gonna do doll. First, yer going to take my jacket, and my shirt off. My shoes and socks too. Then yer gonna make me a plate of somethin delicious while i get in the tub. Yer gonna bring me my food and feed me. Then we'll deal with the rest." He downed the rest of his vodka and stood there, waiting for her to move.

When she didn't, his voice raised, "Get the fuck going!!!" His bark was loud and sharp, and with the high ceilings it echoed around the room, much to his delighted satisfaction. A wicked smile spread over his face as he held out his partially undone tie enticingly towards Kitten. "Ya know ya wanna...."

She couldn't breathe... couldn't think... couldn't move. All she could do was stand there and stare up at him, like the sight of him had struck her dumb on the spot. Fear was etched across her face as she prepared herself for the worst. Perhaps it was the fact that she was readying herself for an attack that caused her to not know how to react when he gave his orders.

She heard them.. every word... but for some reason, her body wouldn't move aside from the trembling it was already doing. When he raised his voice and yelled, she jumped and let out a soft sound that was half squeak, half scream. He held out his tie to her and she looked down shyly, unsure how to go about things even as her bare feet carried her the step closer she'd need to be to remove the tie for him.

Some slaves, the ones who'd been doing this longer and were naturally bolder, probably would have looked up at him, would have leaned in close to let him feel their body... but Kitten did nothing of the sort. Her body was stiff, an obvious sign of how nervous she was, and her hands were shaking as she loosened his tie and finally untied it. She draped it over her arm before gently placing her tiny, long fingered hands against his upper chest, just below his shoulders. Sliding them along his shoulders, she eased the jacket off before it too was draped over her arm.

Moving behind him, she helped slide it the rest of the way off his arms before making her way in front of him again. Still, her eyes didn't lift to look at him, their crystal blue hue mostly hidden from the lights of the room. her hands shook hard as she began to unbutton his shirt, starting from the top(and the furthest away from his crotch she could get) and working her way down.

Her fingers fumbled and she let out half frustrated, half apologetic little whimpers as she worked at his shirt, and finally got it, too, off of him. She turned, draping the clothes over the back of a chair carefully before she turned to him once more. Kneeling at his feet, she kept her head bowed as her hands untied his shoes and slid them off when he lifted his feet. His socks followed, and she tucked them into the shoes before stowing those away near the chair with his clothes.

Without another word, the girl stepped around him and toward the kitchen area, praying silently that he'd go get in the bath without hassling her at all while she tried to find something to cook for him(though truth be told she wasn't the best cook in the world).

Without any hesitation Marcus snatched her arm and violently yanked her back in front of him. She looked as if she was about to cry, half expecting to get eaten or killed on the spot. However, he just laughed and said, "Good job." Before pushing his empty glass into her hand, "Take that with you." Then he kissed her on the cheek and groped her tight ass before pushing it and all of her tense little body passed him towards the kitchen.

He walked into the bathroom and set the jacuzzi to bubble and turned up the heat slightly. He slipped out of his pants and admired his rock hard body in the mirror for just a split second. He hadn't worked hard for it, what with all of the freely available hormones and steroids nowadays. But he still took pride in the scars and tattoo's that told a story of their own. The battles he'd fought in, the units he'd fought with, and those he'd been injured next to. It was all written out on top of synthetically advanced muscles.

A deep sigh left his nose as he slid into the hot water, it's powers went to work instantly on his stressed back and tense neck as he submerged all the way to his ears in the hot water.

He'd left the door open and he could hear Kitten making something. He wondered if it was any good. Just then a thought came to him, she was a virgin, and if she was a virgin then that meant she had to know how to do something good, either that or her father had been filthy rich and really didn't know how to do shit. So maybe the food would be shit, he sighed and once again concentrated on the hot water nurturing his body.

His fingers icily slid over two symmetrical lines down the center of his stomach. He remembered exactly how they'd happened. Two rebels, poorly armed and poorly trained, had caught him in the middle of a piss. He'd pulled off his armor and was letting it hang loose when they rose up right from under his feet and stabbed at him with their ancient knives. It had fucking hurt, he'd been in the hospital for ten weeks. Of course he'd had the last laugh, knowing he'd peed on their faces ten seconds before they were cut to bits by his own men. That had been the mission right before this last one, it had been the one that got them noticed by Mr. Douglas.

Suddenly his hand felt his dick bobbing between his legs. He chuckled, "Not yet boy." Before looking up at the door and wondering when the hell Kitten would be done, he hoped she wasn't trying to cook something in the oven. He wanted food now, fuckit! He had it all planned out, she'd feed him whatever he wanted as he relaxed, then as soon as he climbed out of the tub she'd be pressed against that thick glass giving him what he wanted and probably a whole lot more when she found out just how violent he could be.

"Hurry the fuck up..." He muttered, as she entered the bathroom.

The meal she'd finally had to settle on wasn't fancy, but the kitchen didn't provide much in the way of food that wouldn't take a long time to cook. She got a pot of boiling water going and as soon as the boiling started, dumped in enough pasta for a large, healthy helping.

Meanwhile, as those were cooking, Alfredo sauce was warming in a small pot as well. She took the time the food was cooking to hang up his shirt, jacket, and tie, and then nestle them carefully into the closet in the bedroom. She could see him in the bathroom, relaxing in the huge tub, and blushed when she realized he was naked... and she'd soon be feeding him while he sat there in the water.

Shoving the thoughts from her mind, she moved back to the kitchen and toasted two pieces of bread, spreading butter and garlic on them. In a short period of time, she'd fetched him another glass of vodka, a big plate of pasta with alfredo sauce, and two pieces of garlic bread. Hurrying to the bathroom, she kept her eyes down, never daring to look up at him as she moved to kneel on the step of the large tub.

The steps were tiled... which meant her knees would be killing her in no time, but she prayed the meal was sufficient, considering how little time she'd had to prepare it. Without a word, she set his drink within his reach and moved the fork to stir the pasta around in the sauce enough to spread it around, so he wouldn't get too little sauce and not enough pasta, or vice versa.

Once she had a few noodles wrapped around the plate, she hesitated. "I'm sorry it's not much... I didn't think you would want to wait long enough for me to make chicken to go with it..." she finally spoke, and her voice was soft, shy, holding that hint of insecurity in it. Perhaps she'd get lucky... perhaps he'd be content to lounge around and treat her like his maid... like she was supposed to wait on him hand and foot... Perhaps he'd decide against the sex. Perhaps he didn't like her...

"That's fucking fine," Marcus said quickly after taking a deep sip of the vodka and smacking his lips. He explained calmly that she was going to feed him, and to get comfortable. There wasn't any reason for her not too, but she wouldn't move. "Suit yourself," He told her before motioning for her to give him a bite. It didn't take long for the plate of food to disappear, not only was he hungry, but she was doing her best to feed him without pissing him off. However, when she moved to take the plate and utensils back into the kitchen he grabbed her arm again before she could leave.

"Put that shit down," Up to that point he hadn't been sure if he wanted to just fuck her right away or give it sometime to build up, but with the food in his belly and the vodka beginning to make him sleepy he decided fucking her right away wasn't really necessary, though it could become necessary at any second. Once she put the platter down he motioned with his finger for him to come over, closer. Once she was close enough, and looking quite confused, he held up a bar of soap and a wash rag.

"Clean me up, I know how bad I stink."

He chuckled at his own joke and took another sip of the vodka before sitting up and relaxing against the side of the tub. In his own time, he made a lazy movement sot hat his back was against the side of the jacuzzi nearest Kitten. "Just be nice an gentle," He pointed out, "If ya know how ta massage then do a bit of that shit too. I'm tense as a rope around a dead man. Hurry up."

There was something thrilling about putting off the inevitable longer and longer. It was like getting blue balls, but at the same time knowing that he'd be able to get his rocks off whenever the hell he wanted. In fact right now his dick was quite hard, and still bobbing around just under the bubbles, but Marcus didn't turn them off yet, he didn't want to frighten her too badly just yet. "Make sure you get everywhere Kitten." He said, as he closed his eyes and slumped back against her chest, his head resting between her breasts.

When he grabbed her arm and snapped at her to put the dishes and silverware down, she blushed and did as she was told, setting them aside, out of the way so there was no risk of anyone stepping on them or making a mess of them. His hand was strong and calloused and it made her tremble to think that that hand, and the one just like it, would be all over her body whenever he decided to do what he'd been invited her to do.

She only just barely managed to hold the tears back as the fear washed over her. The soap and rag in hand, she'd been about to start lathering the rag up when he turned and leaned against her. He soaked through the shirt they'd taken out of his bag to dress her in, and silently she hoped he wouldn't blame her for that... she'd had so little warning.

Using the rag, which was now wet, to spread water over his body, she chose to lather his back and shoulders directly from the bar of soap. A moment later and both were set aside, her delicate hands moving to his shoulders and neck. Her thumbs were firm in the way they pressed against him, and she tried to remember the couple times she'd given her father shoulder rubs when he'd come home from work stressed out.

A tear slid down her cheek as she remembered that the last shoulder rub she'd given him was just a day before they'd taken her. God, how she missed her father. Her movements were slow and deliberate, firm in the way she pressed into his tense muscles, finding the knots and working them out as best she could.

Meanwhile, Kitten's crystal blue eyes were focused on the wall on the far side of the tub, and not on him at all. She didn't dare look down at his body, even if most of it was hidden beneath the bubbles. She didn't want to see... couldn't bear to see. If that part of his body matched the rest of his body, she was sure he'd split her in half, and the thought caused fear to course through her.

The moment the knots were gone and Kitten did not immediately move towards his cock something inside of Marcus just snapped. He calmly drank the rest of his vodka and placed the glass cup to the side. Just as calmly he took both of Kitten's slim wrists and stopped their movement. He took a deep breath and slowly let go of her wrists; they were so white and slim that his firm grasp left imprints behind. He spoke deliberately, but in a tone he used with his men that told them precisely just how mad he was. It was nothing to fool around with.

"Turn around Kitten." He'd forgotten about the mirrors but not his desire to not frighten her.

Once he was sure she had turned he stood up and pulled a towel down from one of the nearest racks. He stepped out of the jacuzzi while drawing his stomach and thighs. It wasn't a thorough job, he just wanted to stop dripping. He continued halfheartedly drying until he was directly behind her. Then ominously he dropped the towel to the ground behind her feet and seized both of her fair shoulders with his rough hands.

"You aren't going to enjoy this," He hissed as he pushed her forward into the thick glass and slipped his hands down to her wrists, which he brought together and held with just one of his hands. The other he used to lift his shirt off her tight ass and place his cock against her virgin slit. In a single thrust and violent shove he pushed inside of her and up deep into her pussy.

Something between a growl and groan breached his throat as he felt her incredible tightness fail horribly to stop his penetration. While his cock wasn't abnormal, it was the one thing he wouldn't subject to drugs, it wasn't small either. Nearly seven inches, and a full two inches thick. It hurt, but his rock hard body wouldn't let her go anywhere. Not as she screamed, pushed, or even tried to sink to the ground. He held her there, tightly, until she was no longer screaming or thrashing violently.

"Good, now we can get started." He breathed against her neck, before kissing it and relaxing his stance, moving his cock out, before slamming it back in just as brutally as before, if not more so. Another victorious growl and hoot broke from his throat as he quickly got into a steady, violent rhythm.

She'd stepped back from the tub, rubbing her wrists and looking at the ground as fear gripped her, wrapping itself around her throat to keep her from saying anything. He told her to turn around and she did what she was told, a soft whimper leaving her but no words. With her back to him, her eyes lifted. She'd forgotten about the mirrors too...

Her eyes landed on the reflection of his hard body in the mirror and instantly her body went still and stiff, began to tremble. She watched as he dried himself and came closer. It wasn't until his eyes actually landed on her that she forced herself to look down. He was huge! Her mind was screaming at her to run, but she couldn't make her body obey. The tension in it was too much, and it left her standing there, unsure of what was happening or even what exactly to expect.

Surely, he couldn't plan to take her virginity here? His hands found her shoulders and she let out a small squeak of surprise, jumping beneath his touch. A moment later and he was hissing ominously into her ear, pushing her forward without any cerimony until her body was pressed to the mirrors. Tears gathered in her eyes again, and she struggled to break free even as he easily pinned her arms above her head.

"No... please, no..." she managed to whisper, only a second before his cock found her tight slit. He pushed forward suddenly and she screamed in pain as he forced his way into her depths. She was barely moist at all, and that only heightened the pain she felt. When he broke her hymen, blood gathered around his cock, but she didn't notice. All she knew in those moments were pain and terror.

No one had ever warned her it would hurt like this.. No one had ever told her that sex would be hell on earth. Sobbing, she stopped struggling as much, the pain causing her body to simply tremble as he began to move in and out of her, forcing her to accept him over and over again. Cries left her with each movement of his hips, but not a single one of those sounds was pleasant.

Were it not for his hard body holding her in place, she no doubt would have fallen, her legs shaking too much to be able to bear her own weight. "Please..." she managed to get out on a choked sob, but knew by the sound of his growl and cry of pleasure, he wouldn't listen. He didn't care that he'd hurt her. He didn't care that it felt like she was dieing, having him forcing his way in and out of her.

It was hot in the modern bathroom. In no time at all Marcus was sweating hotly from the effort of driving his body into hers and holding Kitten up at the same time. Her pained shrieks barely made it past his ears; he'd heard them before and while they weren't like music as they would be to some sicko's in his unit, they certainly weren't unpleasant.

What was more heightening was the intense tightness and feeling of thick, liquid blood as it coated his cock and dribbled down his balls. More then anything the physical stimulation was something that he enjoyed vigorously. "God fucking yes!" He half shouted and half groaned as he smacked her ass and then pinched it hard; forcing her entire body to tighten even harder, if that was at all possible at this point.

"Good girl," He breathed in her ear as she screamed and her nails tried to grip the sheer surface of the mirrors. "Nice an tight. They got just what I like. Fucking virgin too, god damn you're fucking tight... Mmmmmmrrrr." The deep moan of ecstasy left his throat but it wasn't his orgasm, just a jolt of pleasure that traveled from the tip of his dick, through his balls, and covered his body like the chill of morning with nothing on. "That's right, i'm the fucking hero, and you're my reward. A nice. Tight, fucking unused fucking virgin. Damn. I'm good." He laughed then, at the same exact moment that he drew another scream from her throat with a powerful upthrust of his strong hips.

It took sometime, but eventually Marcus began to feel a tightening in his balls. "Ahh, here we come," He breathed hotly in her ear, sure she didn't want to hear him, "Get ready to have my baby, bitch." His free hand suddenly forced it's way between the mirror and her body, crossing it like a seat belt before firmly latching onto the opposite shoulder. He used it to pull her down onto his brilliant red cock as he pushed up from the balls of his feet.

He held her tightly as he shuddered, pouring poignant seed into her tight body. He finished with a gasp, and suddenly let go of her. Then he took two steps backward. He got a glimpse of his bloody cock, and what was between her legs before he sat rapidly on the edge of the tub and tried to catch his heaving chest.

Her screams continued, a louder ones echoing the softer ones, always in response to his thrusts. She sobbed between the screams, struggling for breath through the nearly blinding pain. Her fingers curled, trying to grab at the glass she was pressed against, but all that happened was her nails dragging against the glass, not even so much as leaving a mark.

She didn't respond to any of his taunting until he mocked her about having his child. "No! No, please?!" but it was too late... he gave a final thrust, and she could feel an odd sort of warmth fill her as his member pulsed inside of her, making her already sore sex all the more tender as it was stretched just that little bit wider as he spasmed within her.

A broken sob left her, defeat lacing the sound as her eyes closed and her head half-hung there, hair falling into her face and clinging to her wet cheeks where the tears had left behind tracks.

He pulled away from her then, dropping her onto her feet, and for a moment she managed to stay upright, only to have her muscles quiver and knees shake for a moment before they gave way. Hitting her hands and knees, she hung her head and let out a pained sob before allowing herself to fall onto her side and curl herself into the fetal position. Pain continued to radiate through her from where he'd forced his way inside her tight body, and she wrapped her arms around her legs, her knees pressed to her chest even as blood dripped from her sex to the floor she lay on.

Her body continued to shake with her sobs, and one hand lifted to hide her face as she tucked her head in toward her knees, trying to convince herself it was a nightmare and that she'd wake up at any moment.

Marcus tilted his head to the side a bit as Kitten lay on the ground whimpering and crying. It reminded him of the thousands of loved ones he'd killed, hundreds he'd seen raped, and as a reward for all of that he got to do it one more time. With a sickened smirk he stood up and splashed water from the jacuzzi onto her bare back. He walked over, until he was standing above her. He spoke in a soft, commanding voice, "Get up, get in the tub, get cleaned up. You've got ten minutes. If you're not out in the living room by then I'm going to come back in here and it's going to hurt worse. Ten time worse."

He was sure that this place was filled with camera's, and while he wasn't shy he didn't really feel like walking around in the nude all the damn time. So he walked into the living room and took a pair of gym shorts out of his pack, slipped them on, and made his way to the mini-bar. He poured himself another drink and fell back onto the couch.

To his utter surprise there was a video feed on the large entertainment screen. Two in fact. One was his recorded fucking of Kitten just moments before, and the other was live; showing her weakly crawling into the tub. "Fucking beautiful," He murmured with a sip of the strong drink. He breathed deeply then and stood up, heading back into the kitchen. He pulled out that bushel of grapes from earlier and a bowl of assorted sweets; he figured he'd need the carbs by the end of the night.

He began eating slowly and sipping his drink as he watched himself cum, then Kitten standing there in absolute horror, before collapsing to her bloody legs. That was something he'd remember for a long time, even as he wondered if he could buy or take the video home with him for free.

Kitten was out in under ten minutes, but still on wobbly legs. And his shirt was wet around the waist, her breasts, and probably a bit on her back, but it was already starting to dry. "C'mere Kitten," He said as he swung out the leg rest on the couch, and patted the seat next him. He was nearly in a fully reclined position by the time she was sitting next to him, "Feed me." He said dismissively while holding up the treats and grapes. His eyes remained fixed on the screen, even when she began to push grapes passed his lips. "You see this shit?" He finally commented, as his head slowly turned to see her reaction to seeing herself on such a big screen.

Her crawl to the tub had been as fast as she could manage without crying out in pain. The heat from the abuse he'd delivered to her virgin slit was still radiating throughout her body, and tears slid unbidden down her cheeks. In the water, she bathed quickly and thoroughly, assuring there wasn't a single trace of blood on her, and only the slight swelling around her entrance showed any sign of what he'd done to her.

Her wrists and shoulders were showing light bruising, but it wasn't as bad as it could have been... He'd only held her as tightly as he had to to keep her in place. She was out of the tub and dressed back in his shirt within a few minutes, returning to the living room on shaky legs... each step slow and careful, as if she was trying to make sure she wouldn't fall.

Indeed, that was part of it... the other part was that she was concentrating on not crying out with each movement. When she entered the living room, she heard the sounds of her own screams echoing in her ears as they were played from the TV.

Taking her seat next to him, she curled her legs beneath her and set to feeding him, careful not to look at the screen. When he asked if she saw what was happening on the screen, she glanced up, then right back down again, unable to mask the shame and pain the far too recent memory brought her. "I'd rather not, Sir..." she murmured softly, feeding him another piece of fruit.

After taking a bite Marcus snatched Kitten's hands, forcing her to look him in the face. "Of course you don't," He said with a leer, "Ya know we're gonna do it again." He snapped his teeth, and then gently bit her finger and sucked on it slightly before letting her go and relaxing back into the reclined portion of the sofa; completely ignoring her at this point. He watched their fuck twice more before becoming both bored and sick of the fruit, so finally he turned with a sinister finality towards Kitten while raising his hands. "Enough fucking fruit."

He sat up and leaned over. Instinctively she cowered and turned her eyes. He caught her chin and violently tugged her head up to look at him, before planting a relatively soft kiss against her lips.

It wasn't that he wanted to be nice, but he was just feel lethargic from the drink and good food. "Listen Kitten, I've already taken what I want from ya. Now ya gotta give me some lovin, so I don't have ta do it again. Ya hear? I'm gonna tell you how to do it real nice and easy."

Again he kissed her rather sweetly; even those his hand was holding her jaw so that she could not move. As he kissed her he pushed forwards from the balls of his feet until she was laying back against the couch. He kissed her cheek down to her neck, and began kissing down her chest before stopping where his shirt stopped. With ease he whipped her over top of him, "Now," He licked his lips, "Do the same ta me, but don't stop. Keep kissin." His eyes watched hungrily as he waited for her lips to press together and begin their walk down his skin. There wasn't even the thought that she would disobey him or refuse, she had been trained in a breeding facility and they knew how to train their slaves.

Tears were in her eyes as he turned to her and told her he'd had enough fruit. She'd been about to rise to take the plate back to the kitchen, but instead he was kissing her, his hands stopping her from leaving. A tremble had begun in her body again, and she silently prepared herself for what she was sure was to come... he'd take her again, and it would be as brutal as the last time.

But somehow, his lips stayed gentle, even as they moved over the fluttering pulse beneath her neck's delicate skin. When he pulled back, she was looking at him through wide, unsure eyes.

With movements too quick for someone with as much muscle as he had, he'd pulled her atop him, and she found herself straddling him, her sore sex pressed against his shorts. A whimper of pain left her, but at his command to do to him what he'd done to her, she nodded and shyly dropped her eyes. At least if they were kissing... he wasn't pinning her to the wall and having her until he caused her to bleed.

Leaning in, she pressed her lips tenderly to his own for a long moment, lingering there before beginning to trail her lips along his cheek and jaw with movements so light, so gentle, one might think her kisses the touch of butterfly wings.

Her fingers played over his chest for a moment, before flattening against the strength there and holding her as she leaned further in, dipping her head further down to press her kisses to his neck and collarbone. She continued to kiss even after she'd hit the place where he'd stopped on her. Her lips created a ring of kisses over his collar bone from one shoulder to the next, moving up to touch his neck on the other side when she reached it, and still she didn't stop, not daring to look up at him.

Her body was still shaking some like a frightened animal, living up to her namesake.

At first Marcus was intent on staring at Kitten and enjoying every twitch of her nervous, lithe little body, but before too long he was content to simply close his eyes and rest as her feather light kisses fell over his scarred skin. His body relaxed deeper and deeper into the soft couch as he kisses swarmed over his alert senses. It wasn't long before a lump was growing in his boxers and pressing against her abused flesh.

"You have... A great touch," He said with a sigh as he reached a hand up to gently caress her cheek while the other trailed tenderly up the inside of her thigh. He imagined her shaking was getting even worse, but it was possible that it was just his imagination.

However, he did not imagine her nervous jump as his fingers slid over her inflamed sex. It was sore and sensitive; he knew that, so he kept his had there and gingerly continued to fondle the raw flesh. Sooner or later he figured she would get used to it. "Keep kissing," He did say, just to keep her mind off what he was doing between her legs and on the task at hand.

The kisses continued to rain as he played with her abused slit. He ran a single finger at a time between her puffed up lips, but mostly toyed around the edges of her inner thigh and near her clitoris. Marcus was hardly a novice around women: he had just gotten to a point where he did not care about their pleasure.

"C'mere Kitty," He said softly as he pushed against her cheek and led her lips to his own. Gently he kissed her. Then harder before breaking the kiss just as he rubbed against the bump atop her slit rather hard, "Again," He whispered, pointing to lips, "Your turn."

His hands moved over her, and though they were gentle, she couldn't fight down the tremble of fear that radiated through her. The more he touched her, the worse the trembling got... But no amount of shaking could compare to the jump she did when his fingers brushed over her abused sex. A soft whimper of pain and fear left her, but her lips continued to kiss over him, trying to keep him happy.

If she kept him happy... he might not be so apt to hurt her again. Maybe once a day would be enough for him... Whimpers continued to leave her as she kept kissing at him, her hands still flat on his chest, braced there, holding her steady as she leaned down over him.

His hips thrust up and she let out a soft gasp of surprise, followed by another pained whimper. When he pulled her in to kiss her, she didn't try to fight against his hold, but she also didn't seem completely sure or confident. His lips met hers and despite herself, she found her lips pressing timidly back against his own.

Pressing back, that is, until he pulled back and told her to kiss him herself. Eyes glancing shyly up at him, she bit her lip for a soft moment before looking down, her eyes going to his mouth. Eyes closing, she leaned in and pressed a timid, gentle kiss to his lips. Her own lips were feather-light, as if afraid of pressing too firmly against his own.

The kiss was so tender and sweet: it reminded Marcus of some vague time long ago whenever he had his first kiss. But it was so long ago it was impossible to remember in any details, and immediately his mouth was watering for more of that light and tender touch. The hand not between her legs slid quickly up her back to her neck where he pulled, pressing her lips more firmly against his. A deep groan rumbled in his chest, but did not spill out his throat just yet. His entire hand instinctively rubbed his entire hand against her abused slit.

A deep breath through his nose as he held still and hoped, secretly, that she would not react badly to the grip he had on her pussy. Perhaps it wasn't as hard as he thought it was, or perhaps she was thinking of something else, but she did nothing more then shiver as she had been doing the entire time.

The warmth in their embrace surprised Marcus, for some reason he had thought of his reward as some sort of slut or toy that would engage in relentless entertaining sex with him for his entire stay. But having Kitten, this timid little thing in his powerful arms, things were slowing down even after that incredibly fast start. Surprisingly he was enjoying it, it felt more like a vacation, a reward, then a simple fucking orgy.

Their lips had not broken once yet, and neither was Kitten crying yet. Slowly Marcus released his grasp on the back of her neck and was once again surprised to find her lips still pressing firmly into his. With his hand free it traveled around her ribs to her breast, he held it reverently, as it was, and squeezed it only gently as if testing vegetable.

He could tell she was quickly becoming a bit confused in what was happening, he could imagining the phrase: oh this isn't... so bad... Running through her head even as images of her previous rape popped up on the large television behind her. With a frown Marcus removed his hand from her chest and turned off the TV, before returning it to it's place and squeezing a bit harder as his hand rubbed more insistently against her crotch which was starting to warm. Finally the kiss broke.

"Yer startin to enjoy this, eh?" He asked with a soft laugh. It wasn't altogether mean, the laugh, it was more amused then anything else. The look in his eyes was more telling, a slight shine in them wanted her to enjoy this. Even if it was only to make it worse later on, but right now, yes, he did wish her to feel some pleasure.

Her body was responding to him, even if she was afraid... even if she didn't quite understand why. She leaned into his kiss a bit more, and through the pain that radiated from her swollen sex, she could feel herself growing warm, growing moist. He was a bit rougher with that part of her than she would have liked, but in all, his rough hand was pulling strange, delightful sensations from her.

He broke the kiss and asked if she was beginning to like things, and a deep blush almost immediately colored her cheeks as she looked down, slightly away from him. "I... do not understand," she managed to whisper. What didn't she understand? Plenty. She didn't understand why he was brutal one moment and so gentle the next. She didn't understand how he could do what he'd done to her and then still make her feel things that while she was certain were sinful, felt amazing.

Biting her lip, she looked back at him, her eyes imploring him for answers, for reassurance. "I know it is rude for a slave to ask for such things... but... I... I'm new... I'm still learning..." Her hands made a helpless gesture here and tears threatened to spill from her eyes as she tried to find words. "Did I displease you earlier? Was I being punished for angering you?"

She sounded half-heartbroken, and perhaps she was... As a slave, the only thing that gave life meaning, that gave you value, was the knowledge that you were pleasing those you served. Had she failed so quickly?

Kitten's honest eyes demanded honesty. They required them, but Marcus was loathe to give her such honesty so quickly, slaves did not typically deserve what they wanted and if you gave it to them early it would ruin much of the fun that was to come later on. At the same time it could make things even more fun, if you broke that tiny thread of trust, and it wasn't like Marcus was ever going to see this particular piece of ass again. She was too valuable. Even after he was finished with her she would be one of the hottest commodities in the factory, so young, with such beautiful skin and those eyes... Very valuable.

Marcus quickly realized that he was thinking too much, "The reason you were assigned to me was because I enjoy doing that kind of thing to fuck toys like you. Especially ones like you."

Gingerly he pushed a strand of Kitten's hair behind her ear so that he could see even more of those beautiful eyes. The tears were still threatening to spill off the corners of her eyes. He wiped just beneath them, saving her smooth cheeks from a soaking.

"You were rewarding me. I wasn't punishing you, or rewarding you. Remember, you are a slave. Nothing about you matters. Heh. I shouldn't have to remind you, so... Just... Stop." Swiftly and gently he snatched her still flipping and flopping hands, reminders of how nervous her innocent young mind was. He held them still easily. There were still tremors running through her body as she tried to comprehend his honesty and cruelty, but he was truly cruel. Slowly he raised one of her two hands to his lips and kissed the top of it. Then the other. Then back to the first. He met her eyes with the same softer, gentler looks he had been giving her earlier, "Do you want to find out what the reward feels like?" He asked.

Pulling, Marcus brought her hands back to his chest, then he wrapped them around his sides until they linked in the back and her lips were inches from his. "Don't be scared," He breathed, but at the end he gave a little chuckle; realizing that she had every reason to be scared. No matter how soft or honest he was at that particular moment. Swiftly he closed the short distance between their lips and once again kissed her firmly. Their lips melted together once again, and he pressed his tongue inside of her hot mouth, trying to shake her from her thinking minds. His hands slid up hers, to her shoulders, then down to cup her ass. Marcus relished the feeling of her strong body under his hands, and he used his grip to pull her closer to him. She would understand... Sooner or later, that his reward could also be hers. For a time.

Kitten listened to what he had to say and lowered her eyes quickly, rather put in her place. She'd known it was wrong to ask... that it would upset him that a slave was speaking so out of turn. "My apologies, Sir... I didn't mean any disrespect... I just wasn't sure if I'd displeased you."

She would have gone on to say that's what she lived for, knowing he was happy, but shortly thereafter he grabbed her hands and began to press gentle kisses to the back of them. Confusion was in her eyes, but she didn't complain about his tender ministrations. So she was rewarding him... that she could live with, as long as he wasn't unhappy with her. No, nothing about her mattered... but if she wasn't pleasing to him, then she knew it would only be right to see to it that another slave, more fitting what he desired, was brought in to replace her. It would mean she'd failed in her purpose, but she'd take any punishment meted out to her as long as he was happy in the end.

When he asked if she wanted to see what the reward was like, she nodded slowly, eyes wide with surprise. He'd just told her she didn't matter... but here he was about to show her what a reward would be like. Confusion reigned on her face when he slid her arms around him until she was holding onto him, her perky breasts pressed against his firm chest, and then he kissed her. The kiss brought a soft gasp from her, but then it was followed by a soft sigh as she melted in against him.

Their hips met, his bulge pressing into her soft folds, and she whimpered softly at the feel, a gentle moan leaving her.