Kept and Filled: Evelyn’s Breeding Basement Fantasy

They kept me in the dark for weeks. No clocks. No windows. Just the scent of sweat and sex clinging to the concrete. Each day, my body became less mine. Each night, I wondered if it would be the night they used me.

It was.

They came without words, just boots on stairs and the cold click of a lock. I was already kneeling. I didn’t remember standing.

The first one gripped my jaw, looked me over like livestock. “She’s soft,” he said. “Ready.”

Ready?

I was trembling.

I was soaking.

I was bred.

One after the next. My wrists bound to the mattress, my legs forced apart. I begged softly, instinctively, not to be left full. But they didn’t stop. Not until my body stopped twitching. Not until the last one groaned and buried himself inside, as if planting something he intended to keep.

I wasn’t a person to them.

Just a hole. Just a heat. Just a vessel.

Now I lie here, slick and shaking, sore and silent.

I can feel them still inside me. Their breath on my neck. Their seed leaking from between my thighs. And worse…

…I want them back.