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Breeding Adequacies

Join the volunteers, they said. It’s an easy job, they said.

Huff! Huff! Huff!

I admit I overplayed my weakness at that moment. My hands and legs burned, but I didn’t have to bend over the barrel with each step. But I had an idea… A want. Something to prove. So, while I was on carry duty, to bring a few barrels of water closer to the center of the camp, I made myself look… Weaker, so maybe I’d get assigned an easier duty. Or perhaps I’d get those lazy bums of men to help me, instead of having them reclining and napping during the day.

Instead, Senu, a female Leonine, snarled in front of me, grabbed my barrel of water, and hefted it over her massive shoulder like it was nothing. Or a babe. Or a tiny babe. I was sure I’d made her angry because she stomped her way out, while my attempt meant nothing.

Truth was… I wasn’t at my best.

The other females working the camp, a majority of Gnolls, Leonines, and even Loxodons, barely needed me. I mean, they were big and strong, practically a man’s dream if you like big, tall, and powerful women. But I knew they looked at me with scorn and disdain.

Yet, I was the only one working my ass off compared to all the lazy bums, the other guys, the babble of men like me who spent their days comfortable in the caravans or in their tents or chatting on mats while playing dice or reading.

The Females were nice to them, never commenting on their bellies; they were getting over the days. They spoke to them with a soft, calm voice, while I got glares, stink-eyes, and whatnot.

“Hector, the tents!” “Hector, clean up!” “Hector! The beasts!” “Hector! The roots!”

“Hey, Wimpy! We’re not done! Come here!” called out Arisha.

At that time, that oversized and overly muscular Gnoll was my boss. She was also the matriarch, with everyone running around her like a queen bee. And I had to follow since she recruited me.

And she worked me to the tomb: she made me regret my life as a bandit when I starved between each attack, or when I was a farmer growing hardy roots in the Sunlands’ blasted soil so Nobles could get a hard-on. Or… or when I was a young pimple-faced teen working as a Scribe in the Justice Halls.

Nothing was as physically demanding, frustrating, or dull as that place.

I was practically a slave, and yet again, I was dragging my feet to Arisha because she must have a nasty task for me; I thought.

She was pointing fingers and shouting orders when she turned to me and snapped her fingers.

“Wimpy!” she shouted like I was a teen and not a forty-ish-year-old man. “Are you planning to drag your sorry ass all day?”

I didn’t have the energy to reply. That woman was worse than a demon. And yet, I saw how she gave double rations to one of those men before kissing him on the forehead like a mother would do. I looked and saw them laughing around cards before she huffed.

“Don’t look at Bazur’s helpers like that. They won’t do your job! Not for your ugly eyes.”

“What do they do?” I asked. “They’re spending all day relaxing while we’re working.”

“While you’re dragging your ass off,” said Arisha, smacking my nose. “That’s not your problem. If you want to join them, volunteer for Bazur.”

That was it. The spark, the moment.

I had seen the old Orc before. Dark skin, blue eyes, with one behind a monocle. Long gray beard in braids. Blue tattoos over his arms. Long robes.

I assumed he was a madman, always rambling whenever I was by him or had to put the tray by his tent. I didn’t want to end up with my face blasted due to a potion.

“They’re helpers? Volunteers? I can volunteer?”

“He’s always looking for more,” answered Arisha, squaring her shoulders and huffing.

I looked in the dark purple tent’s direction, where he usually hides.

“He still needs help?”

“Sure. I’ll let him handle your case.”

It sounded like Arisha wanted to get done with me, and I was giving her the opportunity.

Still, I nodded and left for Bazur’s tent. If it was easy work, I sure as hell wanted to be in on it. Spending all day playing and relaxing while getting paid twenty coins per day? That had to be the best life for me.

So I pushed the tent’s flaps. The air inside was stale, heavy with the scent of dry plants, flowers. Yet, there were hints of chemicals, strong to the nose, and… Musk. Orc musk, sure. And some others? I couldn’t pinpoint it, but it smelled like an old Orc’s lab, and I wasn’t about to pry much.

No, I even smiled, made myself look like the most eager assistant you could get.

“Sir! Bazur? I heard you were looking for more volunteers?”

“Ouch!”

I saw the Orc suddenly straighten up, rubbing his chrome dome as he approached from the barely lit tent’s depths. Then, with a snap, a lamp was lit, illuminating the rather comfy tent… if not for the examination table in the middle, right by a workbench.

The concoctions I smelled had been prepared in the cauldron on the workbench, which was currently heated. However, I was struck by Bazur approaching me… And examining me, grabbing me by his massive shoulders while pushing and shoving me around.

“Hey! What are you doing?” I shouted, surprised by the old Orc’s strength and the way he had to hum and huff while making me turn and bend, patting my back and chest.

“Interesting subject… How would you qualify your sex experience… Hmmm. Volunteer?”

“Hector,” I replied curtly before my face went red. “I… Have… Good experience? Why is this important?”

Bazur stroked his chin, then waved his fingers as if he were noting things before he nodded.

“Adequate experience. Your name?”

“Hector.”

“Ah! Arisha keeps talking about you. I wondered why you haven’t volunteered yet!” said Bazur, smacking his head. “Are you looking to help me cure our worst ailments?”

“Well. More like relaxing in my corner. But-… What’s the deal?”

“The worst issue of all! Breeding! But strip, please. I need to examine you to see if you’re an apt breeder!”

I didn’t know what it would lead to. But breeding meant fucking. And that was something I wasn’t against doing. So, as asked, I stripped. I doffed my sweat-ridden shirt and my pants… Then my sweaty underwear.

I wasn’t faring well, or looking as impressive when the Orc adjusted his monocle, grabbed a stool, and sat on it while observing my body. And smacking my hands away when I covered my modesty. Which wasn’t modest, I had six inches! More than the people I knew.

“So… Bazur. What’s this breeding about? You are looking for strong breeders for something?”

“Hum. I am not looking for ‘strong’ breeders,” said Bazur, looking up and poking at my belly button. “See. We are weak.”

“Pah. Orcs are not weak.”

“We are weak in different ways than humans are. For example, your kind is weak of body. Mine of mind. Lizardmen lack adaptation. Elves, reproductive capabilities. Dwarves, resilience to illnesses. We are all weak.”

“That’s… Normal?” I mumbled, hiding his junk away.

“No! That’s terrible!” huffed Bazur, his fists on his sides. “We are flawed creatures, extremely so. Like you humans. You are weak physically speaking. Your spine is terrible. Your nose is barely adequate for smelling. Oh, and do not let me talk about your feet.”

“My- My feet are alright.”

“Your feet are a nightmare!” huffed and grumbled Bazur, closing his eyes.

“But!” he said, raising his index. “My point is, I am planning to find adequate breeders to establish a new and more adequate line of qualities. Starting with you, Humans… Since you are the most enduring by default.”

“The most enduring… Does it mean… I get to breed?”

“It means you can help me, Volunteer Hector!” nodded Bazur, leaning back to observe my body. He passed his hands against my groin and my pubes before he retracted them and went to his workbench, pulling a vial from a rack.

“Here,” he said, presenting the blue liquid to me. “Drink it.”

I didn’t know what it was. But I assumed that blue meant masculine… And that drinking something blue was to help with my manhood.

I took a swig, and…

“I feel funny,” I mumbled, reaching for my belly.

“Do not worry. That’s the effect of the potion. It mixes arcane and rare reactants to cause a transformation within your body. It will not ruin your capabilities for action except for your genitals.”

“My… Genitals? What do you-“

I never finished my sentence.

I gasped when the fuzzy sensation in my belly went down my groin. I felt it inside my guts, down my lower belly. And right to my cock, which sprang to life, afire and ready to burst.

I clenched my teeth and tensed my legs as a reflex, hoping not to cum on the instant like I’d learned when I was sucked by whores. But it was pointless.

It was like I was sucked and yet not. Even my underwear rubbing against my dick was so overwhelming, I was losing myself. I drooled, groaned. I slobbered all over my shirt. I tried to yank it all away… I tried so hard to pull my pants down, but for a moment, the sensations so took me, I was grunting like a beast.

Bazur says that’s normal, but it definitely felt abnormal to me, and I cried. I was crying like a tiny wimp who got his first blowjob.

I clawed my pants, pulled on my belt, and tried to yank my pants down.

It happened in a daze, though Bazur had to help me. He had to see it, curious and degenerate as he is. But by the end, I was on my scraped knees and holding onto my exposed groin.

I… I was big before. I can assure that.

I had seven inches, even more. No, eight! Eight! And I knew how to please women. I assure you! I had experience with gals, with all sorts of women throughout my life. I’m sure they cried for me and not for my coin.

But as my cock throbbed between my legs, it looked much different. Redder. More tense, it wasn’t like a normal erection, I knew this.

It was… Painful. And pleasant. And I was holding on to it, trying to understand it all. I was… Perhaps squirming a bit too much because Bazur hit the back of my head once or twice.

But… I couldn’t let it go. I drink something, and I suddenly want to cum; who would be giving in? I didn’t want that.

I wouldn’t.

I held my tongue, I bit my lips, crossed my fingers, tensed my ass, clenched my legs. I did everything, even started thinking about the old grannies on bath days.

Nothing pushed that feeling away enough… In the end, I cried… And I came. I came and shot three times.

It felt so… Good. So intense. I was almost stunned by it as I glanced at the dirty tent above, but I came so much, my balls were hurting after that. Same as my cock or my groin, everything was so… Painful. And empty.

I tasted bliss, and I thought everything would taste like ash after that… Much to my shame.

Then, when I looked down, I saw my dick. I was still hard and all. My cock was still red and pointing up, with cum dripping from it.

But it looked definitely smaller. I had my fingers running over my tip and my frenum. I explored it, but it was definitely smaller.

“What’s happening?” I shouted at Bazur, who shrugged.

“Human bodies can’t fit that many organs. Plus, you are not an adequate breeder; we don’t need that.”

That…

That was my pride and joy, and the little pleasure I had after every hard day, when I had a quick wank thinking about a prim lady.

Instead, my joy was taken from me and was shrinking further as I was overcome by another desire to cum. And did.

Bazur’s potion was quite potent, and it made me… Pretty… Sensitive.

Even when he yanked on my dick, held it, pulled on it, I was so sensitive I couldn’t stop him. No, I cried and shouted while I came all over the dirty floor and on my legs. And his boots.

I came, and each time I was losing a little more: my cock was smaller, chubbier. My balls were sticking closer to my body. My nuts shrank and went from proper balls to tiny marbles.

I was really crying… Anyone would do the same. I… I wasn’t feeling well.

So I get the hurt and the pain. You can cry, too.

My cock was disappearing before my very eyes, too. And Bazur was only commenting about medical lingo like ‘Adequate adaptation’, ‘Promising success’ or whatever.

He has no sense of empathy, that Orc.

And as my cock was almost sinking inside my groin, much like my balls, I sensed the split.

I became silent all of a sudden.

I mean…

I was cumming over and over… And then, you feel like an itch on your balls. But it’s not an itch, and then that ‘itch’ goes inward.

I cannot describe it entirely, but I sensed my scrotum itching and then opening up.

It didn’t hurt, and when I touched it, it wasn’t bloody. It was sticky, with some liquid Bazur told me was ‘normal’.

But sure, it wasn’t normal. It isn’t normal to have your scrotum open up like that without blood or pain or anything.

The more I poked it, the… Deeper I could poke.

The skin began to get softer. Touching it, it felt different… My scrotum, or the skin, inflated on either side before it formed what I’d learned to touch from the brothels. Lips.

I was touching myself, a cunt. One that wasn’t fully there, but I was poking, definitely feeling it. And after all the orgasms I felt, that was different.

Much worse when Bazur yanked my hand away, and it was his turn to touch me.

… And as much as I hate it, those hands are gold.

He had my cock, what remained of it, pinched between his fingers while he pushed deeper into my cunt, pushing against the soft walls.

I cried, I strained my back, too.

I threw my head back until he dropped on the floor, and yet, had my quivering legs forced open by that bastardly Orc.

Yet, I was smiling like a moron because I felt I was cumming but wasn’t.

My cunt… My newfound hole was clenching and closing on the fingers, spraying juices all over Bazur’s fingers… But did he stop?

No. He did not stop pushing and going deeper; each time, I could feel my depths changing. The warmth at my cocktip? It went deeper and deeper. Up until I could sense it in my lower belly and spreading across. And then?

It continued, with him going and pinching and squeezing, though my cock was merging with my cunt, forming… My clit.

Still, I can tell where my frenum was, here. But it’s no longer a cock. And all I had was removed while that Orc kept even drooling and smacking his lips while I kept cumming.

Shit. I even peed a little because I couldn’t control myself.

It wasn’t like a good ol’ orgasm with me shooting and hop, being done. No, I learned from that bastard female orgasms are different. And I was cumming my brain out. I moaned, groaned, begged him to stop while my cunt was so deep I could feel it… Widen inside me. It was… Something else.

By… By the end, after he was done, I was so parched, my lips were dry. I couldn’t move a finger or anything.

I had squeezed my fists so hard that my wrists were hurting. My back, fuck, it was painful. My legs? Well, I dropped back with my legs spread on either side of me… It didn’t hurt when it happened, but I couldn’t walk much without help after that.

Bazur? He only helped me lie down on a mat before he went off to play with his potions and liquids. You’ll get used to it. He is very involved in his research at times… But when he is done, he’ll go back to playing alchemist with his vials or whatever produce he gets his hands on.

I, on the other hand, had little interest in this.

When I finally stood up and could get on my legs, I approached him. And that was not pretty.

See… Like you, I had a cock I was proud of. And after that? I had a hairy snatch oozing, dripping, and gaping.

“You ruined my body,” I shouted! “I should punch your ugly face and take all your gold!”

“You shouldn’t,” he answered, not even looking at me. “I am the only one around who knows how to undo these changes. And should you hit me, you’ll be thrown out.”

“By who? You?”

“No. Arisha. She’s working for me.”

I was gobsmacked.

Arisha. The Gnoll, the old harpy that had been hounding my ass? She was her lap dog… metaphorically.

“She hates you. And so are the many females. She bet you’d volunteer on your first day and lost. I might have to inquire why.”

“That’s… That’s not a problem! I can live without them!”

“Leave outside in the wilds, outside of the caravans’ protection? Is that what you desire?”

I wanted to say yes. Very much.

But anyone with a brain can tell it’s stupid. The wilds are dry, without food or anything. Surviving in the Sunlands is like begging any god to smite you on the ass. So.

I answered: “No. I want to survive. But I’ll be leaving this place as soon as I can.”

“Suit yourself. But we are not done with today’s tests. You are fertile?”

Bazur asked this, but that didn’t mean I could answer. No, he jumped onto his waddling feet and poked my lower belly.

I didn’t even have the time to shout and shove him. He was all ‘Humhum’ and ‘Yes’ before he peeled off.

“You are very receptive, Hector. This will be perfect for today’s breeding.”

“I… I didn’t agree to being fucked,” I mumbled, crossing my legs.

“Then you can leave this tent without getting paid and say to Arisha I refuse you. She’ll be very happy to welcome you back.”

I am still sure she would have ripped my throat if I had done so. And so, I got cold feet.

“Fine. I’ll… Do what you need? So what? You want to breed my cunt, you dirty old man?”

Yes. I dared to ask that.

Bazur isn’t the ugliest Orc I’ve seen. So, I was ready to go down with that sonofabitch, so long as I was free to relax and could enjoy getting paid while travelling the Sunlands.

But no, that bastard chuckled.

“I am quite dignified by your advances. But no. Your partner shall be an individual of a stronger physique than I in many ways.”

I wasn’t aware of whom he talked about. I’ve only seen him and the other volunteers so far. I assumed it might be a man who was hiding in the tent, though it’d be unlikely.

Instead, we left the tent through a back entrance, practically hidden from the women. I still covered my modesty, prude like a chaste virgin. And… he led me to the Horses.

Yes. The carriage horses. During those days, Bazur had a favorite stud for his experiment. A black-coat stallion named Silk.

I don’t know why someone would call it Silk. Silk makes it feel like it’s a soft creature, with thoughtful remarks and gentle manners.

Nah. Silk was just like Bazur.

Before I could grunt and refuse, Bazur had his grease-covered fingers going right into my pussy, lubing it up and saying it would be fine.

Meanwhile, the Stallion was sniffing me up and down, mainly down, while I could see its erection poking from its sheath. And… You know how the Horses are. Hung. Very.

I narrowly dropped and went pale, but Bazur had his hands over my shoulders, pushing my weak and tired self onto a breeding mount.

“Silk is a very adequate breeder. He is a purebred stud with all the qualities researched. Minus the sapience, but this is but a detail for the moment. One that can be fixed with a Soulbond.”

“It is not a small detail!” I shouted back, though he was already attaching my legs and arms to the stand, so I was belly up and cunt presented. “I am not into beasts!”

“It is fine! This is a project that involves crossbreeding. I assure you, after talking with his owner, Silk consented through telepathy. I am sure it will ease your worries about consent.”

“But what about me?!”

It did not ease my worries about consent, especially when that brutal and massive horse almost stomped on mine head.

It stomped around, almost smacking me. But soon, I had its massive torso above me… And I heard its dick smacking against its belly.

“It means Silk is masturbating.”

“I know Horses enough, Bazur! Detach me!”

“Oh. You know about Horses! I am sure you will learn more, dear volunteer,” said the Orc, patting my head. More condescending, you’d die.

I don’t doubt Bazur is thinking he’s doing it for everyone’s benefit. I’ve spent enough time with that thick-skulled Orc to know he truly believes his words.

But crap… He can be such an idiot. Or a bastard. And a pervert, especially when I SAW him stroke himself through the robes. He always says it never happened, but IT happened.

Still.

I had that Horse rubbing its dick against its belly, smacking and neighing while blowing air around. Then… I… Had it.

That flare, that massive and powerful flare. My mind was wracked by the possibility and fear that I’d die in that moment.

I felt the heat pressing against my lips. I sense the flare, powerful and heavy, sway and smack my thighs.

And… Then, there was the press.

Bazur had his hands over the stallion’s dick, helping the beast despite its neighs and cries. I was breathless, my voice stammering out of fear.

“Do not do that. He’ll break me,” I managed to say through groans.

Instead, Bazur kept patting my head.

He wasn’t the one taking it.

He didn’t know about the fear I was experiencing. The… Sheer fear going through my mind. My heart beat quickly. I felt like I was drowning instead of breathing. My legs were hurting due to the straps and bondage. But my cunt was… Open and ripe.

Sure, it was, much like anyone who’d taken the potions.

Under the flare’s touch, my virgin cunt was burning. It ached, too, because it had been prepared or primed, as Bazur likes to call it.

What started as fear became rampant huffs and aching breath while my groin and lower belly were afire.

I huffed, breathed, turned my head left and right. Sweat dripped all over my face, though Bazur was around to wipe it off my forehead and eyes.

I could sense my cunt naturally clenching and closing, as in preparation. And yes, I could feel that too… Wideness inside me. That emptiness that cannot be ignored.

I gasped. And I gasped, watching and feeling that flare hammer its ugly head against my entrance. I sensed it squeeze my lips, smack my clit, and then press against my hole.

I squirted… Or peed again; I am not sure, though what I can say I was fucking parched.

My lips smacked while I watched that stallion neigh and shake his head, with some strands landing on my sweaty self. I was… Feeling sick. Or starting to.

I think that’s another part of the potion.

Something that makes us feel sick, or be ill, so our body is more receptive or something. Bazur might deny this, but that’s true…

I… I had my cunt opening, steadily forced by that monster of a flare.

Finally… I sensed my… Lips open, the inner ones.

And that flare slipped in.

I cried. I shouted so loudly, everyone in the camp heard me. Then, Bazur slipped a gag in my mouth to silence me.

Maybe he’d forgotten this time, or it was a play. Either way, I bit hard into the piece of leather he forced between my teeth while I felt that cock press and advance. It went deep and deeper, stretching me like nothing else I’ve felt before. And I’d felt nothing stretching me before, but I knew it was too much.

My eyes rolled, and my breathing was ragged. And yet, I saw that barrel advance, the horse’s torso advance until it was an overreaching shadow above me.

I couldn’t see the sun or the blue sky above. Only that stupid horse, that sweaty torso, that chest lifting while Silk neighed and Bazur patted it.

It stretched my hole so much, I could feel it was breaking something in me. What? Maybe my hymen. I lost my cherry to a horse.

It's laughable.

I… My first partner, with that cunt, was a horse.

I lost my virginity to a horse… It popped it, stretched me. And when I looked down, I saw that cock through my skin; I swear. I could see the bulge it formed through my belly as it advanced… As it went right above my pubes.

It also squeezed my bladder, so I certainly peed a little. It was not pretty.

But… It continued.

That horse advanced, pushed. I felt the tingle of that thicker median ring going inside, pulling on my lips. Then, I could feel the flare stopping at something.

Yes, my cervix. You, too, received that part of a teaching from Bazur.

I had Silk knocking at my cervix, hitting and smacking it, and not moving any deeper. I mean… How could it? If it had breached it, it might have killed me instead.

So here I was… With more than half of a Horse’s cock inside me, my cunt squeezing and holding onto it.

And what did the stallion do?

It pulled and yanked back. I cried, I shouted.

“STUPID HORSE! DON’T PULL BACK!” I would’ve said, if not for the gag. I felt my eyes bulging out of their sockets.

I would have died if not for Bazur’s preparation, though I felt I was dying. From the heat, from the pressure, from the pulls… And then when that Horse pushed back inside, smacked my depths and made me cry.

Like a fucking man, it was going back and forth. In and out, smacking and hitting with increased speed. It’s a horse; it should be humping or doing it quickly.

But no, that one was smarter. So much smarter, I couldn’t stop screaming in the gag while that horse was fucking me. Stuffing me. Filling me.

If I’d been strapped to its belly, I would have been rocked so much its dick might have slipped out. Instead, I was firmly locked, and it was my limbs and the breeding mount that were about to break.

I was drifting, yet the thrusts shaking my entire body reminded me of myself and my surroundings. I was rocked back and forth, the movements going up my head and my spine.

I… Was losing myself to it, myself to the motions as that beast above was fucking and stuffing me with semen or something…

I couldn’t tell, though I can tell. It came.

And much different from the horses and much to attest to Bazur’s words, Silk came… A lot. A hella lot.

It neighed and blew above, huffed, shook its head. Its entire body, almost snatching me from the breeding mount until I… Felt weak.

Until I passed out, much to my chagrin, while I had my belly bulging and filling with horse spunk.

That was… My first breeding.

When I returned to myself a few hours later, I wasn’t in my tent like I’d expected. Nor in Bazur’s tent.

No… I was surrounded by the other volunteers, who all looked bigger and yet attentive. They even began to celebrate and chant when I woke up… Which is our little tradition.

The first breeding is the roughest on the mind and body; only a handful don’t pass out as I did. And for those who pass out, volunteers handle them until we can get back on our feet.

So… I woke up surrounded by strangers’ faces. Of course, I pushed away and tried to roll, to go on all fours and move. But… Horse spunk doesn’t agree with it.

My hole, in that moment, burst with cum, and I couldn’t move much while I came again.

I woke up again a few hours later, not much happier with the situation but more keen to listen.

That’s when they explained to me what I am explaining to you.

Bazur’s experiments are… Empirical. Our bodies can be impregnated like women. But we’re expecting babies much faster than for any other species, or women.

Three weeks after we’re impregnated, we’re showing signs. Three months, and we’re already pushing them out.

Whatever it is, it shall come out, then…

If it’s a feral Horse, we can keep it, though in that case, the ‘mother’ is kept away from the Horse.

That’s why… Well. That’s why Erlon hasn’t been impregnated in a while. The lucky bastard is the mother of Satin, our current stallion. Yes, that’s Bazur’s current pick.

As for me… I gave birth a few days ago. I can feel the emptiness, and yet, I cannot say I’m not dissatisfied with feeling my cunt aching for the moment.

I’ll tell you, I picked this job so I would not have to work. But being pregnant? Expecting a child? That’s the most challenging duty you can find here.

You can train your body to lift weights. You can train your mind to be more efficient.

But pregnancy? It’s always hard. Especially with the foals. Each time, we waddle and move around like overblown beasts, then, when it’s our turn, we pop our children out to have them around or leave them with Bazur’s patrons so they can be raised normally.

I don’t know how long I’ll stay… Nobody knows exactly. Volunteers come and go.

Even though it’s the hardest job, I prefer it to any other option. So…

If you let me, I’ll have a meet with Satin and Bazur.

I can already feel my cunt aching for another foal. And I’m sure that old Orc hasn’t blown his load ‘til you got your foals.

If we don’t care for him, he might let himself die of dehydration.