Captured by the Count: An Abduction and Breeding Fantasy

by Carolyn Faulkner

  He was already dressed, and she wasn’t allowed to dress in anything other than her chains, so they were ready quickly. No breakfast was eaten by him or offered to her, which was strange and out of their ordinary routine.

  He fastened a lead to her collar, then used it to pull her out of the room. She couldn’t walk nearly as fast as he could, since the chains between her feet, which were removable, had deliberately been kept short, and not wanting to cause her to fall he moved behind her, instead, using the end of the leather leash on her behind frequently to encourage her to walk as fast as she could.

  They went back into the other side of the building, where she hadn’t been since she was brought to him, and turned into a room that looked somewhat like the examination room she had first been in, but it wasn’t as big. There was a table there that she recognized – and didn’t want to – with the same type of strange things for her feet.

  Jurek motioned for her to get onto the table, and she did so, growing ever more nervous as the seconds passed.

  The door opened, and the Count came in, smiling at Jurek but not acknowledging Cassie in the least, for which she was eternally grateful - although he did stare at her in a very unnerving manner but it was her body or hair that he was looking at, never her eyes.

  Then a strange man came into the room. He was small and wiry and didn’t look at any of them at all, although he did execute a bit of a bow to the Count. Jurek jumped to get her into a better position as they conversed around her in a language she couldn’t understand, but that she might have guessed was German or Polish or Russian or something like that, but she soon became more preoccupied with what Jurek was doing to her than worrying about what they might be saying about her.

  She was strapped down to the table, her wrists in the familiar position above her head, her ankles spread wide apart and fitted into those strange metal cups and fastened there, so that she couldn’t remove them.

  The strange man took a seat between her splayed legs as all of Cassie flushed violently hot, so much so that she thought she was going to faint. She didn’t think she’d ever get used to being so callously handled and looked upon as nothing more than an object. This man didn’t make any move to talk to her at all or help her fell less embarrassed or nervous about what he was going to do as he probed her inside and out, feeling her lower stomach and pressing two fingers up inside her with no lubricant at all, making her moan slightly until she saw Jurek frowning furiously at her and she knew she had just chalked up yet another painful punishment that would no doubt be delivered the moment they ended up back in his room.

  But Cassie couldn’t worry about that now. She was much more concerned about how she was being handled by this man, who kept shoving fingers inside her and pressing down on her lower stomach, rattling off things to Jurek and the Count about her that she couldn’t understand.

  Something he said made them very happy, though, and Cassie didn’t think she wanted to know what it was, but after he had left, Jurek lifted her off the table rather than expecting her to get off it herself, and carried her back to his room after enthusiastically shaking the Count’s hand.

  “This is the best news,” he fairly crowed as he lay her down on his bed. “You’re pregnant. And so soon! That’s very good! I’ll be able to get a lot of suckers off you if you’re so easily caught.”

  The news wasn’t good as far as Cassie was concerned. She had prayed that she would be barren, but her monthlies were regular as clockwork, and she hadn’t had one since the time she had told him about the first day she had known him.

  She didn’t want to be pregnant, and certainly didn’t want to be forced to give birth to a baby that was going to be taken from her as soon as it was born, but she had yet to see a way to escape. She was constantly bound and often watched, or both at the same time. There was just no clear cut opportunity.

  There was one good thing about her condition, though. It hadn’t just been his elation that had kept Jurek from punishing her for her audacity at groaning as a man she didn’t know stuck his big fingers up her. For the next three months, he barely touched her, except to help her on and off the bed. He even bathed her himself, having a big brass tub brought into his room as he did for his own baths instead of the usual method of letting the matrons scrap the skin of her till she was raw.

  She was barely allowed to stand on her own, and spent most of her time in bed, not even bound, usually, although she had noticed that there were always now two guards outside the door, so she couldn’t have gotten far anyway. She was given her own trays of food, which seemed to be of even better quality than what Jurek had so graciously allowed her, and was even given English books to read to pass the time.

  Unfortunately, Jurek and the Count were trying to be so cautious with her pregnancy that she had to see the doctor almost every day, which meant letting another boor of a man paw around between her legs what seemed like every five seconds. At least when Jurek had fucked her, he had often brought her to ecstasy, too. Granted, he was only doing it because he knew she hated it, but still. At least it was something – an acknowledgement of her presence. Their “doctor” – if he even was one – was quite perfunctory and very sausage fingered, at that, prying her rudely open each time without ever even the nicety of something to aid his entry.

  There was another benefit though, but at first she wouldn’t have agreed that it was one. They were trying to keep her as relax and happy as was possible for her situation, so that she was less likely to lose the baby in the first trimester, which was when that was most likely to happen. So one morning, not long after she had been told she was enceinte, the two matrons appeared at the door again, and Jurek ushered them in. They had brought a portable version of the examination table, so Cassie was on alert. Jurek lifted her off his bed and placed her onto the table, face down, saying nothing more than “Stay.”

  The next half an hour or so was about the same haze as had been the weeks of travel after Paris, although not at first. The two women dipped their hands into heated lavender oil, and then began to massage her, gently at first, then with more vigor.

  This was yet another thing that she wished she could avoid responding to, but those two women made her putty in their hands within seconds of the time their hands met her shoulders, where she had always carried stress.

  And when they were done, before she could gather enough strength to move, Jurek began to stroke her himself, insinuating his big hand between her legs, using some of the lotion that remained to ease his passage until he found exactly what he wanted – her clit. It had been neglected a bit lately – Victor didn’t think that orgasms were good for pregnant women – especially at the beginning of their pregnancies. Jurek didn’t necessarily agree, although he couldn’t really see anything wrong with being overly cautious, especially in Cassie’s case.

  But she was so relaxed he couldn’t resist toying with her a bit, flicking and pressing and ever so slightly pinching that impudent bud as it swelled between his fingers, and he heard Cassie moan softly and redoubled his efforts, leaning down to kiss her bare backside – absent, as it was of any signs of punishment, since that, too, was verboten but for the entirety of her gestation, not just the first few months. He pressed his whole face into her bottom cheek, then grazed it with his teeth, nibbling just a bit as his fingers worked their magic, swirling and gliding and teasing her incessantly until he could tell she could tolerate not one more stroke.

  “Cum, Cassie. Do as you’re told and cum for me.”

  She rode his fingers like a well trained whore, moaning and writhing and screaming breathlessly through two full peaks, and then a smaller, more sedate third.

  “Very nice,” he complimented, wrapping her up in a blanket and bringing her back to the bed.

  Cassie’s pregnancy proceeded with no problems, except for the fact that her breasts and belly had expanded enormously very early on, which lead the doctor to believe that she might be carrying twins.

  “Do they run in her
family?” he asked the men, who then translated the question to Cassie.

  She thought about it for a moment, then said, “I don’t think I remember hearing about any sets of twins on either side. Why? Am I having twins?” she asked.

  But no one answered her question. As little as possible was done that might trigger a maternal feeling within her. They all knew that her body would demand it of her, but they tried to keep her environment and conversation to a minimum about that subject in particular, despite the fact that it was the whole reason why she had been brought her.

  In Victor’s experience, keeping the female as much in the dark as possible about her own pregnancy – especially someone like Cassie, who probably never even knew anyone who had given up their baby – except, of course, the slave women who lived on Two Rivers, who were expected to do so routinely – was the better way to go. It was much easier than all of that emotional stuff that happened if they were allowed to think of the being growing within them as their child. The less attachment she felt for these babies, the better. Everyone agreed.

  The bigger and more unwieldy she got, the more tired she felt, so she spent a lot of her days napping, when Jurek wasn’t at her. Her breasts – swollen now to more than twice their usual size in her seventh month – ached constantly. Jurek often massaged them for her, although they had become that much more sensitive, too, and as good as that felt, she often begged him not to, because she was ashamed that it also aroused her, and there was no avoiding the way her nipples came to taut points whenever his hand settled on a burgeoning globe.

  This time, he moved her hands out away from her sides, and quickly cuffed them there, and she knew she was in for something.

  “Your breasts are getting so lovely and so big!” Although he realized he should be gently massaging them, Jurek could never resist the opportunity to torment her, so he lay to one side of her and buried his face between her breasts, squeezing each of them mercilessly right in the middle and shaking them as she wailed and cried from the agony he was causing, clutching them just as tightly and trying to smash them together in the middle he had just vacated, licking those darkened but still standing at attention nipples, first one then the other, while Cassie cried and moaned at how he had caused the relatively soft ache she had been feeling to multiply into an unbearable agony.

  When he became bored with torturing her like that, he moved it to the next level, applying clamps he had found that were ingeniously attached to a wooden bar. After applying each vicious metal mouth to each of her nipples, he used a hook to catch the bar in the middle, so that the way the clamps tugged her applied equal tension to both buds, then used the chain the hook was attached to to force her to sit up on her knees, her big belly filling her lap to over flowing as she reluctantly did so.

  “Put your hands on the bed behind you,” he ordered, and Cassie did her best to comply, even though it hurt her terribly to do so, made the clamps pull that much harder at her tender bits, lifting her breasts into further prominence.

  And then he brought out a shorter version of the switch he enjoyed using on her backside. It was made of the same material – a very flexible bamboo – and was just the slightest bit thinner and shorter. Cassie had already begun to cry by the time he made some experimental cuts through the air with it, because she knew her poor agonized breasts were his next target.

  And they were.

  He made her turn her head, not wanting the possibility of accidentally hitting her face, so she could only hear and feel not see the vicious strokes that landed on her proud breast, nearly coming off the bed at the very first stroke until she heard him say angrily, “Arch your back, girl, thrust those things out so they can get what’s coming to them.”

  Cassie did her best to continue to lean on her hands and present those swollen globes to him as he preferred, but every second of it was a challenge, especially when he began to abrade her double time, often hitting her already traumatized and flattened nipples, which had her howling with it each time a stroke landed there, until he gagged her with his own handkerchief and began again, laying into her just as fast and hard as he had begun to.

  He wreaked havoc on her breasts, by the time he was through there was almost no flesh on them – even the undersides - left untouched, and as she continued to sob heart wrenchingly, he stood over her, on the bed, where she was still in position with her ravaged breasts jutting out and her hands behind her on the mattress. Jurek removed the gag and replaced it – in one smooth movement – with his cock, taking her mouth all the way to the hilt, until his balls hit against her chin with every thrust.

  Cassie did her best to relax her throat muscles. The first few times he had done this to her, she had nearly choked and gagged, and she already knew the consequences for doing both of those things. So she was training herself not to have that kind of reaction, and when she could get her mind right, it worked, and seemed to be doing so this time. She just let him slip in and out of her mouth and halfway down her throat, it seemed until he made one last tremendous thrust, and deposited his seed on the back of her tongue, where it slipped naturally down into her stomach.

  Eventually, he recovered enough to remove the clamps from her breasts, but not before she had become nearly hysterical from the pain.

  It was a scene that was repeated several more times in her seventh and eighth month, although he usually ended it by burying his face between her legs. Both he and the Count – who she just learned was called Victor, but not by her, of course – believed that the spasms that occurred during hard orgasms helped train a woman’s body for labor.

  In fact, she attributed the onset of her labor with her first baby to Jurek, who had her lying on her back as he suckled on her engorged nipples while flicking her clit very lazily, trying to keep her on the very edge of orgasm for as long as he possibly could. He had caught her trying to get up off the bed, which was forbidden this late in her pregnancy unless someone was with her. She was allowed to walk – even outside as long as she was escorted - again because they believed it would help her during labor and delivery.

  But she was so big and unwieldy that she had been expressly told not to even attempt leaving the bed unless she had someone’s strong arm to hold onto, but she needed to go, and there was no one around.

  Jurek gave her a jaundiced look. “Do you think that’s going to save you from an ass beating when you’re recovered from delivering?” Almost no one referred to what she was carrying while she was within earshot, in an effort to help her deal with the fact that it was going to be whisked away from her the moment after she birthed it.

  She did not think it would. It was her bad luck that she had been caught, and she knew that he hadn’t forgotten about the other thing that he’d warned her she was going to have to pay for shortly – groaning out loud the first time the doctor had examined her.

  He crowded her back onto the bed as she moved awkwardly away from him, finally collapsing in the middle of it. Jurek stretched out next to her, his hand on her big, bare tummy. Clothes were a thing of her past, even in this disgraceful condition. But her four points cuffs were not, and he easily hooked both of her wrists above her head – not that she could actually get away from him any more, but it kept her from interfering with whatever it was that he wanted to do with her. When his hand returned, it wasn’t to her tummy, but her breasts. He seemed almost obsessed with them, and how large they had grown. Whenever he was in the room with her, his hands were constantly there, or between her legs.

  Come to think of it, that was where his hands always were before she’d gotten pregnant, too, although she had become much more sensitive – all over – to his touch even than she had been before, and he knew it and liked proving it to her.

  Tweaking them was never enough, though. He liked to make them hurt, and lately that had meant biting them harshly. They seemed to have a mind of their own, because no amount of painful stimulation seemed to back them down, no matter what it was that he did to them. As soon as his
hand rested anywhere on her, her nipples tightened painfully, anticipating what they knew would be coming even though it hurt like the devil.

  And this time was no different. He began by swatting her nipples directly, causing the very tips of his fingers – almost the nails themselves – to land directly on them, watching her squirm trying to avoid the blows, which only served to move her breasts sensually as if she were trying to entice him to do what he was doing instead.

  But that was exactly the opposite of what she wanted to do. She was much less lithe and graceful in her present state, and her gyrations were awkward and heavy, but she couldn’t seem to stop them no matter how hard she tried. By the time he desisted, her nipples were even more swollen and several shades darker than they had been due to his efforts. The redness that was usually apparent after his tender ministrations was much less starkly apparent due to their discoloration due to her pregnancy.

  And yet the abused nubs stood up, proudly, apparently seeking more of the same which he was always more than eager to provide.

  This time though, he hung his big leg over the closest one of hers, pulling hers apart and keeping possession of it while his fingers followed the dramatic slope of her belly down to the top of her mons, slipping further down, stopping at the entrance to her body that he had been so long without and gathering up there the evidence of just how happy her body was with the way he treated it.

  Since her third month or so, he had noticed a considerable difference in the amount of natural lubricant she generated when he was fondling her. More often than not now, if she was feeling at all well, she drenched his hand, and the more harshly he treated her, the more copious her natural fluid. Jurek found that deeply satisfying.

  Another reason to always keep her with a baby in her belly, as if he wasn’t going to regardless of the incidental benefits. They had already had very high bids on this one – and were hoping there were two of them so that they would double their money, but one would be all right too, because of the rare promise of it inheriting either her or his coloring.