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The silence. That's what woke me, I think. The stillness and the silence and the faint smell of something that I did not recognize directly, but had caught on the air occasionally. The smell was muted by old leather, and I slowly opened my eyes to the ceiling of a barn high above me. I shifted, my head turning this way and that, and I struggled to sit up - to no avail. No, try as I might, I couldn't move to a sitting position. My head throbbed for a few pounding moments - then faded to a dull ache. Had I been drugged?

I tried to stretch out, my arms feeling cramped - and grunted as the bite of old hemp rope dug into my forearms and wrists. I turned my head to look, and grunted - my arms were tied back, and I felt straw matting between my fingers as I gripped at the earth. I struggled again, trying to get settled. My feet kicked in the air a moment, and I felt, there, the bite of rope at my thighs and shins. I stretched my leg, and my arms bent. I looked - lifting my head as far as the heavy chattel collar allowed. I was tied up, rope stringing my legs open, and bound up like my arms. I was rather exposed.

I was rather exposed, and the stillness tickled at my scales. I looked up at the roof once more, and tried to rationalize my thoughts - but noting came of it. I was still at the farm of my Master, I could smell the grains outside, even through the leather. The earth was still rich with the old river-wash, that was brought in to tend the crops once every three years. My eyes closed in focus, trying to think through my situation - before a noise broke my thought path, and I looked up to see N'ateu, the Overseer of my field.

His scales were a dark shade of brown touched with black, and his uniform of red leather trimmed in a dull, stained yellow was in high form today. He was tall, and quite strong - I remembered seeing him lift a slave by the throat and throw him when two slaves got into a brawl. His whip was coiled in its holster, while his long truncheon was sheathed against his left thigh. He was sinister. His eyes, shaded amber, gazed down at me with the same dispassion he held looking over everything in the world. The corner of his mouth twitched, and I would have sworn to the Gods that he almost smiled at me.

He had always been kind to me, in his way. He had never hit me with his truncheon, and the one time he used the whip he had pulled it at the last moment.

"Good morning, little flower." He spoke to me, lowering to crouch. A hand lowered to the side of my muzzle, and he stroked it, as I had seen him caress one of the hounds that were prominent at the edges of the fields. I turned my face into it, finding comfort in his smell. "Today is a very auspicious day for you. We know it is your time."

I looked up to him, with a light tilt of my head. I gave a curious noise, for the mask did much to prevent proper speech in the conditions I was in. He gave me his small smile again - and then lifted his hand, to point towards one of the inner doors of he barn, near to me. I gazed for a long moment, as he had indicated to do. Nothing happened, as he stroked the side of my face, then gave me a pat on the head.

"Produce many eggs for us, little flower."

He stepped back, and sat upon a stool. At a sound, the door was opened, and I witnessed a sight I had not seen often, and less so as close as it was right now. I shifted in my ropes, my eyes widening on sight of a large, tan colored slave of the fields. His tail was thick and long, and muscle chorded his body from the hard labors of the fields and clearing away lumber on the edges. He snorted through his iron mask, which covered his snout. I could not see his eyes, hidden by panels that would not distract him from what was to be his duty. Between his legs, an enormous shaft extended from his slit, and slapped at his belly when he stalked forward. A handler held a pole to his neck, guiding him towards me.

My insides went chill, and my exposed position made far more sense now.

The bull-male approached on heavy, stalking steps. His head jerked in my direction, clearly scenting me, which I had noticed was heavier in the air. He came towards me, his shaft jerking, surging to full size and a flare of spines along his shaft tip. I swallowed, my breath coming in faster as he loomed before me. I felt myself whimper. I shifted again, but the pressure of N'ateu's foot found my tail - and he looked at me sternly. I tried to calm.

"Big enough, isn't he?" I heard N'ateu mutter. The bull-male was lead closer to me, snuffling again in my direction with a furious growl on him. The bull-male shifted around, his handler guiding him as he approached between my legs. There was a grunt from the handler as he shoved with the pole, pushing the male down to kneel at my flanks. My tail twitched and tried to pull up defensively, but the foot on it kept it in place. My blue scales were snuffed at by the masked male, who dipped his head between my legs, and breathed long and deep. I whined again - but ropes held me fast.

"Look at him, he's ready." The handler murmured low to N'ateu. The pole was relaxed, and the grip loosened as the male continued to snuff at my sex. His breath tingled on my scales, and I found myself getting slightly damp, to my surprise. I was breathing quickly now, as the male stirred his snout between my thighs further, nuzzling. It felt painfully cold, the iron against my thigh, and I winced as it ran across the pouting of my vulva. "Mount."

"He's been pent and made to breath pheromones for two weeks. Caged too. Can't waste, you know?" The male drug his face along my belly, and I felt him nudge in hotter - as if burying himself against me. He drug his face up along my belly, slowly climbing me, but not to the satisfaction of the Overseer. I heard leather clear holster, and then a loud crack, as a gash was opened on the hide of the male that was climbing me.

"Next time, a month." The Overseer grumbled. He glared down at me, but decided I didn't have any say in this, and let the whip hang in his hand. The scent of copper was heavy in the air, before the whip cracked again, and the male finally covered me, and gazed down, though I knew he could not see me through the mask. I gazed up at him, then slowly down his body - over the muscle and hide that was rife with scars, and across a strong torso that flexed as he angled himself over me, and jabbed me with his shaft. His hands settled on either side of my shoulders. "Two. He needs to be motivated. Maybe get the gelding shears."

"Only if he fails to perform properly." The other said, taking a swallow from the canteen at his hip. He drunk long and deep, then passed it to N'ateu, who refused with a shake of his snout. I saw this only peripherally, for my focus was on that large shaft right between the thighs of the bull-male, who rose over me. He rumbled down, his voice a thrum, and soothing. A hand stroked the edge of my thigh, up to my vulva, before his thumb caressed the edge of of my sex, then between, then along my clitoris which sent electric fire through my body. I gasped. I heard a rumbling chuckle from the bull-male. His shaft throbbed against my buttocks, and he drug it slowly up my cleft, to lay on my sex.

He pushed slowly, just enough to tease the sensation of penetration. I had used fingers, once, a female had used her tongue, but gods how different it felt with that spongey heat that filled me, slowly, inexorably. I felt my back arch and I strained the ropes. My jaw shuddered and my head spun - moments began to stretch out as I was filled out. I gasped again - gods, he was far thicker than any finger. My insides gripped him, and he grunted - clearly savoring how tight I strangled his cock. He pushed, and pushed, and pushed, until his thighs met mine, and our slits kissed in the most intimate of ways.

He held still, shuddering, and waves of pleasure crashed through my body, sending spasms jerking through me, which clenched on him, making him thrust, and built into another rendition of pleasure. My insides ached in a beautiful way, and I hung my head back, gasping. He didn't have to do anything but fill me. And I loved being filled.

We held one another for a time - long and quiet and just the feeling of two hearts beating. THe male above me gripped my wrists, and held me down, though I could not escape even if I had wanted to. He held me down, and his fingers squeezed his snout brushed mine through iron and steel and the small spattering of rust. He exhaled, and rumbled slowly towards me. His jaw ground on mine for a moment, and his breath comes in a whispered hiss of pleasure. He pulled back slowly, and I felt empty - until just the tip was set to my sex. And then, in that moment of near panic at being unfilled, he thrust inwards, and I cried out as a wash of delight fluttered thorough me again.

My hips surged up, and small bursts of delight tickled through me. I tucked my chin and curled my toes, while his tail wrapped around mine again. He lifted his hips, and impacted against my buttocks with his thighs - each surge moving through me and rocking my body in the pile of hay. Again he pushed me, ground me, into the hay, and his jaw brushed mine while he surged and took his pleasure. He built up speed, and I grew even more wet with the motion that fluttered through my body. His grunts became a musical symphony, and his claws gripped my sides as he covered me, slapping between my legs and filling me up. I rolled my head back and exposed my throat, and he nuzzled it as his rump rose and fell in his breeding motion. I felt the waves build inside, and flow over me. I felt like I was drowning.

It came with a twisting thrust, and I felt the spines ripple through my vulva and batter against my womb. I felt his heat urge, and I cried out, loud and immodest. I cried out and felt hot tears squeeze from my eyes, as I matted his groin in my own `et heat. I was drowning in sensation and let out a strangled gurgle as I lost control of my body, so jerked, spasmed, andshuddered, I contorted in his play and clutched to him for comfort. Perhaps I loved him.

Moments passed, and his thrusting built up speed. It took little time for his own shudders to pass through him, like the ending note of a long song that passes into night. He filled me with liquid heat, and I felt it flow, and jet, and splatter inside of me, leaving me curiously full and filled. I gasped hotly - and my leather muzzle constrained my breathing. I whined, and squeezed tightly to the bull-male on top of me. I felt good. I felt warm. I felt the radiance of life flow into me, and spill in hot rivulets through my insides.

And then the moment ended. As I felt the last small shudders passed through him and he lay still, the pole was given a tug, then a violent yank - and the male was slowly pulled from my body, like a warm blanket torn away during a storm. He withdrew from me, leaving me cold and hollow and uncomfortably full, and I felt it dribble from my sex now that it was not quite so plugged with shaft. He withdrew from me, almost painfully - his shaft hung and retracted, the last dribbles of our mating slowly sloughing off to drip into the hay. I now knew why the smell was familiar. I saw him, watched him, and wanted to reach for him - but he was lead away, stained from our breeding. The last I would ever see of him, was his head turning towards me and his tail flicking in my direction. I was left alone, and empty, and still tied.

"Very good, little flower." The Overseer said to me, and reached to stroke my cheek, post copulation. "Produce many eggs for us, and you'll be here again, I promise."

Somehow, that did not fill me with hope.

---

Four moons passed, and I had felt the changes inside. My fingers played soft on the curve of my eggs, and I let the touch linger and wander over the swells. It was time for our breaks as the heat of the day rose to a feverish pitch - and the overseer had called us to rest and shade and have three hours of free time to ourselves. I let my fingers place across my belly - and felt a small pinch ripple through my guts. I had been moved to a new field after my mating with the bull-male, and the other females had looked at me with pity and concern, before welcoming me into their ranks as one did on the plantation - point at a bunk and told the rules and left alone.

Four moons had passed as I lay in the cool shade, another of the pregnant females in the eyes of the Overseer, M'asau. He was hard to please, but strictly fair in his governance of the field. I closed my eyes, and winced again as another pinch rippled through my insides. They had been occuring lately, and I worried for my eggs for the time being. I wondered about the fate of their sire, but knew he was probably still breeding, one of ten males kept for the sake of impregnating females. They had tried many things to prevent pregnancy - they still looked at it in horror. Me? I stroked my children's eggs. I was glad.

The sound of claws on dirt caught my attention, and I looked up at the Overseer, M'asau. He gazed down at me, and his eyes studied my belly, then towards my face. He bore a golden-honey hued hide, and eyes blue as cool water. He observed my face, and studied my posture, then nodded when I gave a wince. He snapped his fingers, and the two slaves, both males, approached me. One pulled a hood from a bag, and gazed at me. I looked out over the fields, and towards the distant woods. I could have run.

The hood was pulled over my head, and tied shut, and my hands were bound together through rope. I said nothing, because somehow I understood. I was pulled up, with gentleness that was uncommon, and quietly lead towards the place that scented of fear and wet womanhood. I felt a chill. This was a place spoken of in fear and horror and pain. And as my belly rolled and the pinches became worse, I began to understand why.

And by the end of the day, I knew why they hated being pregnant.

I did too.