by Mark Andrews
And yet, when it came and I put my all into making it better and better, I didn’t know how tiring it can be. Accordingly, as I lay on that dreadful chair and Dr Yuen’s diabolical machine probed inside my vagina and did its macabre deeds on the embryo foetuses inside my womb, exhaustion caught up with me and I just dropped off to sleep.
When I woke up I was back on my own hard wooden bed next to Alicia and it was morning.
Chapter 3
Our days now assumed a pattern, although it was anything but monotonous, far from it at least in the sense of effort and application. Every second day we spent in the gymnasium proper, following a highly scientific training regime to develop our bodies into the epitome of what Dr Yuen considered perfect in his breeding sows (as he called us).
The alternate days we spent generating electricity on one of the four series of machines in the adjoining room. The work was diabolically hard and the guards and technicians and trainers kept every single one of us at it flat out for the whole period of the day’s training. That’s all we did, day after day, week after week - train our bodies - and of course provide pleasure for the guards and others.
After a few weeks, my libido reached its peak of lustful desire and, like each of the other girls there, I craved sex all day and all night. I got it too. I was lucky, I suppose, that my blond ponytail and blue eyes made me so attractive to the Koreans for there were very few nights that I wasn’t selected for sex.
And I gave as good as I got. Once I was impregnated and fertilised by the huge young man who had deflowered me, it was no longer necessary that my virginity or my cycle be protected and the rings were removed from my vagina. I was now the same as all the other girls in our dormitory. Accordingly, every time one of the powerful guards or more slender technicians chose me as their sexual object for the night, I made love back to him with all the newfound energy my much more powerful body could give. No. I will rephrase that. There was no love in what we did on those hard wooden beds, or even in the more comfortable ones in the officers’ sleeping quarters. This was pure lust and nobody pretended otherwise.
But it was very pleasurable - extraordinarily so and I indulged my lusts each night as the only bright spot in days that were filled with work, work and more work. That and the two tender moments when Alicia and I soaped each other down at the morning and evening ablutions for although it wasn’t sexual, her hands on my body and mine on hers were gentle and affectionate.
Of course, as the weeks passed, some of the girls who had been kidnapped before us began to show signs of their pregnancies, their bellies now distending quite noticeably. That didn’t mean any let-up of their work effort, though. Unlike the western idea that a pregnant woman needs to be tenderly nurtured, these people thought the opposite and we were whipped and prodded just as hard right up to the time of birthing the unwanted babies in our bellies.
It seemed no time and I began to feel my own three babies inside me and could see a noticeable swelling of my own belly. Of course Dr Yuen and his men monitored us all the time, each one being taken to the clinic to be examined with the horrible tentacle machine on a weekly basis. Oh how I hated that machine and the intrusive probings it made into each of my bodily orifices as well as mauling my breasts of course.
He loved the hated machine. He was a sadist of the first order and had made his infernal machine as horrible for us girls as he could. It now used another of the tentacles on our frontal opening.
This one had a thing on the end that spread our vaginas wide open - and I mean really wide open. It had four prong-like fingers that pushed inside the vaginal lips and then moved out sideways, stretching the lips and drawing them into a square while we squirmed in the straps that held us down tight and screamed out in our pain. He loved to hear us scream and I quickly learned to indulge him for if I didn’t, he only kept turning up the heat until I did.
Once I was wide open, another of the horrible tentacles with a probe on its end pushed inside - right on up to my womb I think, to check out the foetuses now growing so rapidly in there.
That part wasn’t so painful but the opening of the muscles of my vaginal lips was - and so was it when he used that same stretching device to open and examine my anus - God knows what for, but every such weekly event included a rectal as well as a vaginal examination and I hated and dreaded both of them.
If it was Dr Yuen himself conducting the exam, I hated it more for although he was a very handsome man, to me he personified evil and his hands roving all over my now extremely well-toned flesh were like the hands of the devil, even though he used them to rouse me to extraordinary heights of pleasure. He knew every one of the erogenous zones on a woman’s body and he seemed to delight in my squirms of pleasure as I lay bound down on his examination table as much as those of pain, the two of which he alternated for the whole time of the examination.
But his subordinates, all doctors themselves, were nearly as bad. Indeed, they were as bad - except that in my mind he additionally radiated that satanic aura of pure and unmitigated evil.
The President visited the complex quite often and this man I feared above even Dr Yuen. If the scientist radiated evil, General Sun was the devil incarnate. That any man could conceive of an army of enormous automatons - but human nonetheless, whose one aim in life was to kill, kill, kill - and have no thought for themselves or any other thing for that matter, was utterly inconceivable to me. But he had, at least he had after Dr Yuen told him of his researches, I supposed.
As he moved through the gym or generating room I strained my body to force it to work at its very hardest for he too loved pain - at least its infliction on others - and he wasn’t at all averse to stopping at a girl, watching her for a minute or so and then, smiling in that dreadful way he had - and gesture to a part of her body. His aide, a very handsome young man, now thumbed the switch on his prodder, and while the girl stared at its two needle-sharp tines in fear, slowly moved it to her anus, vagina or breasts (depending on what the President had ordered) and shocked her for long seconds until she collapsed unconscious on the floor, to be dragged away from her workplace.
We all watched these events out of the corners of our eyes and more than a few of us were trembling in fear as the little entourage approached our position. As I say, I forced my body to work harder than my best until he was long past my place and thus avoided his little entertainments but you never knew. If the whim took itself upon him, no matter how hard you worked, he might still gesture to my breast or some other sensitive part of me so my pain could amuse him for a minute or so.
I have said I looked forward to the nightly sex sessions. Now of course, I know that the hormones we were fed each meal had somehow increased our libidos to a degree I have never heard of and we craved sex all day. But I didn’t much like it when I was selected for one of the officers’ rooms or those of the senior technicians, much less Dr Yuen himself.
Of course they had all of us to choose from and men being what they were, didn’t indulge every night. They seemed to like variety, too and so I suppose I was called on only about once a fortnight or so to grace one of their beds.
Why didn’t I like them more than when the guards raped us on our hard wooden beds - because they always started the sex session with painful foreplay. Spanking our bottoms was the least of these little delights, which might have been okay if you are into S&M, but I wasn’t. I also hated the way they made us stand between their legs so they could fondle us before getting down to business. We were made to understand very clearly that we were just animals. Beautiful animals of course that they had moulded and honed to their own ideals of perfection, but animals nonetheless, and that we were simply vehicles for their pleasure, nothing more.
Dr Yuen always first examined me. At least it was just with his fingers and not his horrible tentacle machine but they were just as intrusive and nearly as horrible. They poked into my mouth (as if I was a horse
he was inspecting), my anus and of course my vagina - and this part of the night went on for ages while I stood there and blushed (to his delight) and fidgeted from one foot to the other as his expert fingers teased my clit and roused me higher and higher.
Then it was time for the ritual spanking. I had to get down over his muscular thighs (at least he had a good body) and lie there while he waled into my bottom until his hand was too sore for him to continue.
That too went on for ages but then I had to assume the doggy position on his bed so he could rape me. He always did this anally first, just to shame me more and sometimes he didn’t bother to use the other orifice at all, denying me my own release on purpose.
No, the public rapes in the huge dormitory, despite their savagery and lack of feeling, were vastly more acceptable and usually more pleasurable than the private sessions in the officer’s quarters.
As the weeks passed, my belly began to poke out alarmingly. Remember I was carrying triplets and their sire was the huge Korean who had deflowered me. But I was no more enormous than the other girls and some of them, carrying quads or even quintuplets in some cases, were even bigger. And yet still they made us exercise and work at the same frenetic pace as before. They believed that hard work, right up to the time of dropping the babies aided the birth and I believe they are right.
When my time came, just as they had with the girls who came on before me, they merely detached me from whatever machine or gang I was working on, had me squat down, in full view of everyone around and simply pop them out.
It really was that simple. It seemed the exercises we had performed, as well as the horrible stretching procedures performed by Dr Yuen’s diabolical machine had made me into a perfect child delivery system - me and all the other girls as well, of course.
The doctor responsible for our deliveries arrived just as the first head emerged and his assistant deftly took the (to me) huge infant and after severing the umbilicus and wiping down the baby, handed it to another assistant who took it away. I stared after his retreating back in sorrow. So I wasn’t even going to be allowed to hug my babies before they removed them from me!
And then the next one started on his birth, followed by the third. Each was efficiently detached, cleaned and removed. The doctor examined me, pronounced me fit - and I was put back to work! Again you don’t believe it? That’s how they worked!
We weren’t people. We were just vehicles to carry their army of soldier-slaves.
And so it went on. By now of course they knew my menstrual cycle down to the hour and when my time came around again, I was to be put to another of the huge Korean studs who were kept for the sole purpose of fertilising us human sows.
These handsome and incredibly athletic young men had been hand picked personally by Dr Yuen, who had toured the country seeking the perfect male counterparts for his small army of foreign slave-mothers. By now, we had reached our desired target and the kidnappings ceased as quickly and suddenly as they had begun. And still the world was no wiser as to why so many of their athletes had been spirited away or who had done the deed.
The extraordinarily muscular young Korean male raped me in the fertilising room.
This time the President was not present but the room was full nevertheless. The general’s favourites vied to be on the guest list to watch us foreign female devils fertilised with the seed of their best males for to be seen to approve the programme was to curry favour with him.
I was secured as before and then the gigantic male strode in. It was a different young man than six months earlier but he was just as big and certainly as good-looking and his muscles! Phew! They were magnificent. Just looking at him, I was already wet with anticipation.
And the deed was even more wonderful than last time for by now the drug or hormone or whatever they used to inflame our libidos was working at full power on my body and, like every other girl in that huge factory, I craved sex above all else. He went at it full bore, ramming his gigantic pecker into me with long powerful strokes and I came for the first time in only seconds.
After that, it was only a minute or so between orgasms, on my part, anyway. He had been trained how to time himself and as he draped himself over my back and bottom (and I gloried in the feel of his chest and belly muscles on them) he controlled his own libido very carefully. Accordingly when he ejaculated for the first time it felt as if gallons of his seed was entering me. I am sure that it was a very large injection at the very least - and the three that followed that first wonderful outpouring of his lust were just as good.
I couldn’t measure time but I was sure the whole thing had gone on for well over an hour, maybe two...
Now we discovered the other reason they had so carefully developed our bodies. We had all been athletes of one sort or another before they had kidnapped us, but then they had taken those already well-developed bodies and worked them ruthlessly to make them into near (if not actually) perfect specimens of human athleticism.
The prime reason of course was to make us perfect carriers for their new army of mindlessly conditioned human automatons. The second was to give them pleasure from our perfection. But the third was to cater for the other whim of President Sun.
This was a man who hated foreigners remember. He had expelled all who were not Korean born immediately after the coup and had then set about militarising his country. Our army of mechanical human soldiers would be the elite unit in an army that he was already training ruthlessly to begin taking over his region, starting with South Korea, of course.
But his paranoiac xenophobia (that was not so much a fear but hatred of foreigners) had led him to create another use for us now perfectly developed athletes. To this point, his people, although they knew the borders with other countries were now closed and had been subjected to a barrage of propaganda against foreigners and things foreign, had not actually seen us or even knew of our existence.
That was about to change. He had decided to expose us in about as shameful a way as was possible...
You will recall I said they considered us as animals. Now we were about to discover to what extent that idea existed in the President’s mind. As each of us who had now delivered our twins, triplets or quads, etc, were now re-impregnated by one or another of the huge musclemen studs in front of the President and/or his guests, and the doctor had certified we were indeed pregnant, we were moved out of the massive concrete building that had been our home for six months or more and transferred to another establishment on the outskirts of the city.
We were transported like animals, of course. They used one of those trucks used to move cattle from place to place except that our wrists were locked up to hooks in the roof of the cage and we were thus well exposed to the people in the streets who, for the most part, no doubt mindful of their new President’s injunction to hate all foreigners, spat at us as we passed by.
Our destination turned out to be a farm that had been set up from an old horse racing stud to train us to be just that - horses! Human ponies!
You may have heard of the growing interest in human ponies? I hadn’t until this time but I have now and now that I am back in England, have researched it ... but more about that later. Right then, I was just appalled when I realised we were going to be used as ponies. What for was still a mystery but it was bad enough that we were going to be forced to drag light sulkies behind us - and in a way that was utterly humiliating.
Of course the how and the wherefores came later. As the truck rolled to a stop in the yard outside the huge stables building, the two dozen or so of us in this first batch were ordered down off the truck and made to line up so our new trainer could inspect us. His examinations was as bad as Dr Yuen’s and just as shameful except that he was more interested in our muscles - especially those of our calves, thighs and bottoms than of our breasts, although he did check them too for firmness, mauling them just as horribly as the doctor a
nd his staff had.
We were into it straight away. There was no showing us our accommodations or feeding us, for example. Our trainer’s name was Kim although we had to call him by the Korean equivalent of ‘master’ and as he finished inspecting us, he nodded to his men who proceeded to buckle leather collars around our necks and then attached short iron bars between them from front to back so we became a train of two dozen human carriages.
We were then marched down to the training track while Mr Kim screamed his instructions at us. It seemed we were about to have our first lesson in human pony deportment. “You will trot,” he screamed. “And in trotting, you will raise your thighs to the horizontal. The whips of my men will tell you if you are to go faster or slower and if one of you does not raise her knees high enough, expect a dose of the prodder to your cunts or your assholes!”
I do not like such words but they used them on us all the time. I sank into a new despair. The breeding factory had been bad but this was going to be worse - much worse, I thought.
At the crack of one of their whips we were off. Have you ever tried to run like that, raising your knees high? It is unbelievably difficult and it was made worse by the iron bars connecting the fronts and backs of our collars. They tended to force us into keeping step with each other but if one of us failed to do so, she felt the prodder into her cheeks or breasts with a snarled injunction to “get in step, slut!”
For the rest of that afternoon we had to trot around the track while the assistants ran beside us and Kim followed on his motorised buggy. If I had thought myself fit from the six months in the factory, I soon discovered I was not - at least not for this dreadful work.
Our muscles had been under strain there but we had not had to run and if you are a woman, you will know how awful it is to run any distance without any support for your breasts. No matter how athletically fit you are and how firm they are, they still jig up and down with each step and it becomes more than painful after a while.
