Steve never turned his computer off, and rarely closed tabs, some of which had been open for months. The screen turned on as he jiggled the mouse, and Steve found himself staring at the same tab that he’d left off at last night. He recognized the layout as belonging to a news site he frequented, and he could see the pictures that were associated with the stories, but beyond that everything just looked like scribbles and lines to his simplified brain.
He moved through each of the tab, realizing just how pointless of an endeavor this was. For example, if a video was open in a tab then he could click the play button, as well as the related videos on the side. But he had no idea what the title of those related videos were, how long the videos were, or what their descriptions said. While he had a rough idea of where the search box was, a simple glance at his now illegible keyboard made it obvious just how little good that would do him.
Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something important in one of these tabs, so he kept clicking through them. Finding nothing, he went to check another browser window, only for his heart to fill with dread as he hovered over the preview.
There were a few windows open in his browser, but most of them were filled with junk tabs. It was the one all the way to right of the preview – the window he hadn’t looked at in at least a month – that brought back that feeling of déjà vu from earlier. It was too small to make out all of the detail in the preview, so he clicked it to bring it up.
Sitting in that window was a picture he’d masturbated to about a month ago. It was a side profile of an anthro German Shepherd. She was bowing with her hands pressed together in a silent plea while a large dog ear and the tip of a brown dome crowned out behind her. The bitch stuck laboring in that picture wasn’t just any bitch – it was same bitch that Steve had seen earlier that night. The same bitch that he’d turned Austin into, and the bitch in the picture was stuck in same stage of labor as Austin.
Steve couldn’t read the description in the post, but he didn’t need to. The picture was part of set that was several years old. The set depicted a group of anthros that had been genetically engineered to be breeding slaves in a high-tech universe. He’d masturbated to every picture in it dozens of times, and he knew the descriptions by heart. So, despite his body’s illiteracy, he knew that this one said:
“Abby pleaded with her master to help. But master has no use for a slave who was born with narrow hips.”
*Click*
Steve switched to the next tab, bringing up a picture of a hen surrounded by dozens of enormous white eggs. Her back was propped up against the wall, and her legs spread wide as she screamed in agony while a massive egg pushed its way through her vagina.
“The geneticist who created ES-3 didn’t appreciate the risks of creating a chicken with multiple copies of the egg laying gene. But ES-3 somehow survived and is now forced to endure as her body churns out dozens of eggs each day.”
*Click*
The next picture was the doe and an anthro squirrel lying on a bed while they held hands. Both were clenching their teeth as they bore down in labor. The doe had been more successful, and she’d managed to get the head of the deer that she was carrying out of her.
The squirrel, on the other hand, had a much smaller body, despite which her belly was far more distended. And unlike the doe, the squirrel’s lips had only barely parted as the tip of a beak pressed out from inside of her.
“’You can do it, just keep pushing!’ Martha told her friend as the baby slipped free from her body, but Suzy had her doubts.
Master had caught her stealing food and the punishment for that was death, so master had bred her with a gryphon. When she’d survived the breeding, master gave her a challenge – survive the birth and he’d let her live.
Suzy hid the identify of the father from the other slaves, even her best friend and birth partner Martha, but she wouldn’t be able to hide it for much longer.”
*Click*
The next picture was the three rabbit nurses, each cradling a bulging belly as they worked in the birthing ward on an unseen patient.
“The rabbit triplets are due any day now. They’re hoping that their labors are staggered, otherwise there won’t be anyone to help them.”
*Click*
Steve clicked through the fox, the alligator, the mouse, and the cow before he reached the last three tabs in the series. Unlike the other slaves, who only got one picture each, Experiment-S4 was the artist’s favorite, and he’d decided to do three dedicated to her.
The first picture was a side profile of a happy looking anthro skunk with three rows of small but pert breasts, and a white lick of fur coming off the top of her head. As Steve looked at the picture, he knew that he was looking at a technical drawing of his own body.
The image had an inside view of the skunk’s belly, where the viewer could see a minotaur growing inside of a womb that took up about half of the skunk’s abdomen. An arrow pointed from the top of her womb to a dotted line that ran right below her ribcage, showing that the womb could expand upwards to accommodate larger creatures. Her other organs, meanwhile, had all been shrunk dramatically to make room for the womb that gave her existence purpose.
Steve couldn’t read any of the text but, as with the other pictures, he knew what it said. It was multiple descriptions of her body and organs, the most important being her womb. That had been designed to allow her to be bred with any creature, no matter how large.
Her organs had been shrunk until they provided barely enough functionality to keep her going while pregnant. One of the text boxes extolled the virtue of how the little blood flow that managed to make it to her brain and limbs meant that she couldn’t move at anything other than a slow crawl – making escape almost impossible.
The geneticist who made her felt that was an important feature, since her master had specified that she was supposed to have overly strong, agonizing contractions. The author had theorized that escape would be her sole priority due to the agonizing process of birth.
There was another text box that had talked about how her DNA had been customized to make her cunt abnormally small, all while giving her incredible ability to stretch and regenerate. Unlike the other slaves, it wasn’t uncommon for her to stay in labor for days on end. Then, to ensure that there was enough oxygen to support the birthing process and her brain, her heart and lungs would generate their own adrenaline, giving her the energy that she needed to sustain the birthing process.
The final text box had explained the single flaw with her otherwise “perfect” breeding body. Her skeleton had originally supposed to be made of a hybrid material with properties between bone and cartilage – strong enough to allow her to function, it was elastic enough to allow her hips to accommodate a creature of any size.
Unfortunately, an error in her genetics meant that she was created with normal bones and would require several breedings with smaller creatures before her skeleton had fully converted.
*Click*
The next picture was her on her hands and knees, her fur drenched in sweat as her teeth grit down and a reptilian snout filled the tight snatch between her thighs.
“Experiment-S4 was advertised to be breedable with any creature, but came with a warning that it was advisable to start small and work her up over a year or two. Unfortunately for S4, her owner decided that her first breeding would be with a land dragon.”
One of the commenters had asked if her master was going to help her, to which the artist had replied with a simple “no.”
*Click*
Steve clicked to the final picture, which showed the skunk laying on her back. Her legs were splayed to the side while her eyes half open and drool dripped out of her mouth. The snout protruding from her cunt hadn’t made any progress from the prior picture, but what truly terrified Steve was the description:
“A month in and S4 hasn’t made any progress. Her mind is starting to give out, but how long will her body last?”
*Click*
Steve closed the browser window. He didn’t want to look at that anymore. He knew that was his body, but he tried to tell himself that wouldn’t be his fate.
“I’m not a girl,” said the breeding slave as her cunt nervously clenched, “I’m not going to go into labor. That’s not going to happen to me.”
But from the tone in Steve’s voice, and the squirming in his womb, even he could tell that he was beginning to have his doubts.