Patreon Story - A Brooding Mood
#2 of Subscription Content
https://www.patreon.com/posts/28173124
Jacqueline: Miserable and alone, wracked with self-hatred and desperate to satisfy the one core defining feature of her existence. She wants to breed by any means necessary, with anyone who will claim her womb.
https://www.patreon.com/posts/28173124
Prologue
I had a self destructive interest, a desperate and near hopeless interest that ruled my life. I am unquestionably what you would call ugly, not just plain--ugly. This strongly impeded my interest, for the object of my desire was to be a Mother. Not just a mother, but a servile, fertile beast of burden mindlessly bent to the task of bearing young. Had I the option, I would have chosen reincarnation as a milk cow or egg laying hen, destined to spend the rest of my fertile life impregnated.
I however feared I would become a spinster at my current rate. I was 29, lived alone, worked a dead end job as gas station attendant, and dreamed. Every night I came home to sit before the cool blue glow of my monitor and surfed through pictures of beautiful happy pregnant women--and their delicious studs. Porn and hentai came next; human and inhuman breeding. Some times I'd even spend the night with an erotic story series or participate in erotic role-play easily found in one of the many breeding chats full of people the world round.
Even--when I felt particularly bold--I'd offer myself to a particularly aggressive stud. They generally were some creature of base instinct and even baser desire, an unhealthy and self-destructive attraction. It was such a thrill to offer, every single time, a simple near pleading offer, "Use me."
Inevitably--once they realized I was earnest and meant in real life, not simply some role play hook--they wanted to see a picture of me. That was where it usually came to an end. I'd send the best picture I had from some five years back. It was in good light, and I'd lost some weight at the time too. It was never good enough.
A few, a very few, looked past my appearance to something more, some potential use. Not the use I craved, for that potential never aligned with my own interest. They wanted a slave, a dehumanized, filth soaked, and reviled object. I... I tried... Oh how I tried! The first time it was offered... oh how I tried! I did everything asked of me; shamed myself on camera, humiliated myself in public, did some of the most disgusting and vile things a human could subject themselves to. In the end he grew bored and left me a broken wreck, and worse; my womb empty. I'd never even seen his penis, let alone felt him inside.
After that horrendous experience, I never again subjected myself to those kinds of people. I role played, I made my offers, I fantasized. I was a common staple, a regular face in the crowd--an all too desperate and annoying presence. People talked about me in private, mocking I'm sure, though I rarely learned what was said, only that new faces appeared and already knew to show no interest. I wanted it too much, I was a man trap, I'd suck the money out of their pockets. That's how I eventually understood it.
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