*All characters are 18+. Story contains themes of free use and dubious consent. Read at your own discretion. Any character likeness is purely coincidental. This is fiction based on a short personal fantasy. Enjoy!* 🙂
War had come when it felt like everyone had least expect it. Cities flattened, villages ravaged, women taken as hostages and turned into slaves. Used and abused for the pleasure of enemy soldiers, it was a dark time for not just women, but society as a whole.
It had taken years for any sense of normalcy to return, for any peace to find the lands again. A change in rule, a change in scenery, and while maybe things weren’t perfect, there was eventually peace. For the large cities, anyways. The ravaged villages and towns were bare and the soil ruined, the fallout from the war so great it was hard to tell if they’d ever be fertile again.
People starved, hunger wrecking them and full families daily. Until one day, after a woman birthed her third child, the villagers realized that milk flew threw her supple breast and dribbled out of her nipples. The milk was enough to sustain a baby, surely she could produce enough to sustain a few more grown men?
And thus, the village was anew at once. Women were bred, their children cared for by the entire community to make sure they were housed, clothed, and fed. Women were cherished, their own little havens set up daily for men to come and drink from their breast whenever they pleased, giving them the energy and nourishment needed to carry on with their work day and try to bring sustenance to the village.
Winnie was freshly 19 the first time she was bred, and now at 23, she’d done more than her fair share to bring life into the world. Her once small breasts were now large, firm, and typically full of milk. The midwives had been worried that she wouldn’t be able to carry a child — her body was small, as she was quiet petite. But her chest had over tripled in size, her nipples puffing up for a perfect latch, and her milk had come in faster than anyone’s they’d ever seen before. It was almost a miracle, but then again, Winnie had always been underestimated. Though she was small, her dark hair framed her heart-shaped face perfectly and her green eyes shone when she smiled. She was a beauty, there was no denying that. Her skin was rich and deeply tanned, her breasts now sitting thrice their original size with perky nipples and dark areolas that crept up the weight of her breasts.
Her milk had been the largest supply yet. It was thick, sweet, and she found she much liked when the men would come and suckle her, sometimes fondling her in ways she didn’t always think were appropriate. It made her spine tingle all the same. Sometimes, after a good feeding session, she’d let them dump a load or two inside of her while her supply refilled, their cocks and cum deep inside of her womb, and then she’d let them have seconds of her milk.
It was the best of times for Winnie, who was incredibly happy with her life. Until she learned there was a nearby village that was as impoverished as hers once was. It didn’t seem fair that she should keep all this milk to herself. She was an over-supplier. Sure, she was one person and one person couldn’t end world hunger alone. But maybe one person could end the hunger of a village…
And so, she packed her things and said goodbye to some of her favorite men, letting them drink her milk one last time so she was fully drained for the road. The weight of her breasts was so heavy most days, it would be nice to get there and feel someone lift them off her chest for even a moment. The goodbyes were bittersweet and she promised to return before embarking on her trip.
The walk would be brutal, she knew that. And yet, she shouldered her backpack with nothing but her journal and her skirts, letting her breasts breathe freely as she walked under the cool sun. Autumn leaves fell, the cool wind making her nipples stand at attention. She could just drink her own milk if she got hungry, she knew that, but she wanted to be as full as possible to entice these people to drink from her.
Hours passed and she almost wondered if maybe she should’ve brought a friend. Maybe another of the girls with a hefty supply who could help her so she could come home sooner. But no, she was convinced that they would only want her milk once they tasted her. She tasted divine, she knew that. Like milky honey from thick streams from her nipples. She could almost feel the tingle now, how her back arched and her pussy ached to feel that first long, deep pull from her nipples as her milk lets down. She wanted someone to drink her. To ravish her.
By nightfall, she knew she had to stop and try to rest. She could hear the sound of a creek rushing and escort bursa she moved towards it, hoping to find some form of fresh water, as her canteen had long since been empty and her arms were covered in little chill bumps at the cool breeze. Surely, she’d packed a cardigan of some sort in her pack and she intended to find it. Winnie stumbled down a hill, catching herself on a tree. Her breasts jiggled with the movement and milk dribbled from her nipples. She almost moaned, she was so full it was almost painful, but she knew she’d have a filling drink and get a good night’s rest. But what she didn’t expect, was to see a man sitting by the creek with a small fire burning. How had she missed it?
She moved to take a step towards him and a twig snapped, setting her on edge. He was eerily quiet with shaggy brown hair, no shirt, his trousers dirty. His back was tanned and elongated and filled with muscles and still he sat perfectly still.
“Excuse me,” Winnie called, her voice soft and chimey on the breeze. “Excuse me, mister? Could I join you?”
Finally he turned and the crazed look in his eye as he took in Winnie was enough to set her further on edge. She took a step back and he took one forward, standing straight now. He was much taller than she and if the ripples of his muscles were any indication, he would overpower her and quickly.
“Sorry-” she started, slowly backing up. But with each step backwards, he took one forwards and she almost turned to run. But she didn’t. Not when he merely grunted at her. Like he didn’t understand what she was saying. He opened his mouth, but there was no way for her to know what language he was speaking.
Realizing there would be limited ways to communicate, Winnie lifted a hand, gesturing to herself and then to his fire.
“I join you?” She asked, as if dumbing down her request would make him understand easier. She gestured again.
He only nodded and turned back to his small campfire, where she could now see a warm blanket and a small fish cooking on a stick. He sat down at his fire, where she could now see he was rotating his food, and she joined him, approaching cautiously and sitting on the ground. Winnie reached for the blanket, if only to cover her leaking breasts, but he snatched it away.
“Sorry!” She says again, holding up her hands, trying to show that she truly meant no harm. He only grunted in return.
“Winnie,” she says, pointing at herself.
The firelight danced across his face and she studied him once more. Hollowed cheekbones, a diamond face, deep brown eyes. Someone from the capital, then, they all looked the same. But he was handsome and surely not the worst person to spend her evening with.
“You?” She asks, pointing to him. She points to herself again. “Winnie.”
The man looks at her pointing to herself, his eyes lingering on her exposed breasts for only a second before they dart away, as if he’d been caught staring at something he shouldn’t be staring at.
“It’s okay,” she encourages, nodding again as she presses her breasts together. This was normal for her, for men to see her as a source of pleasure and fullness, as someone useful but desirable. It was the way she preferred it, and she wasn’t leaving this campsite until this stranger thought the same. As she squishes her breasts together, milk sprays from one of her nipples and she moans at the tingling there.
The man whips his head to her, the milk having sprayed the side of his face, his eyes wide as he takes in her moaning. He raises a hand, wiping at it before staring at it as if he couldn’t believe what was on his face. He lifts his hand, licking it gently, cautiously. But the low growl that leaves his throat at the taste has Winnie’s pussy beginning to ache and drip and she yelps as he reaches forward and yanks her to him by her shoulders.
His mouth latches onto one nipple and… oh… the suck… the depth… the sheer desperation as he latches and drains her right breast. She’s a moaning mess, and the man lifts his hand to cover her mouth as he drinks deeply from her. Her nipple tingled, her belly tightened, her pussy dripped in her skirt. It was too much, far too much, his latch was perfect, his drink so strong that she was sure he’d drained her breast by now.
He hadn’t and for the first time, Winnie was worried her milk wouldn’t be enough for this ravenous man. He grunted in pleasure and his hands ripped at her skirts until they were nothing but shredded fabric beneath them. Winnie tried to close her legs, she really did, but he was forcing them open and he had her on her back in no time. Her panties were damp and he only broke away from her breast to trail down her body, milk dribbling in his absence. His nose smelled görükle escort at her sex and she fought the urge to close her legs as this neanderthal bit the side of her panties, ripping them away from her skin. She yelped as he yanked some of her hair with his teeth, but she didn’t have time to register the pain as he buried his face in her sopping pussy.
“Oh!” She gasped, her back arching. His tongue worked her clit, flattening against it as his head bobbed up and down between her thighs. She didn’t care that he was dirty or her other breast was engorged and leaking, nor that she had no clue who this man was. Only that his tongue circled her clit perfectly and she was so close to cumming that she couldn’t hold it back. He nibbled and sucked at her clit, his suction there just as strong as his suction on her nipple and suddenly Winnie was cumming like never before. Her pussy gushed against his face, her squirt coating him. But he didn’t stop. No, he slurped it all up like it was the only drink he’d seen all day.
When she was cleaned up, the man pinned Winnie’s arms above her head. He latched onto her left nipple, his latch just as perfect, his suction just as strong. Winnie mewled, having never been drained or treated this way before. She was a dripping mess. Surely bringing so much shame to her people, to her village. But as his tongue darted across her nipple, that tingling so incredible, her milk flowing into his mouth so freely, she couldn’t help but be glad that the other girls weren’t here. She was a greedy girl, and this man was for her.
So lost in her thoughts and pleasure of her draining, Winnie didn’t notice the man unbuckling his belt or his cock poking through the zipper of his pants. She gasped as he filled her, his girthy, long cock sitting snugly inside of her. Winnie was no stranger to size, but this man was big.
“Fuck!” She hisses, her legs trying to wrap around him, but he only grunts as he begins to thrust, effectively pinning her legs as he’d pinned her arms. She was entirely at the mercy of this stranger, his strong suction on her nipple dancing with that dull ache in her belly that his cock was now brushing against.
He was animalistic as he suckled the milk from her. His cheeks hollowed with each sip of her milk and she could feel the streams leaving her nipple as her pussy tightened around him. Another orgasm wrecked her just as her milk was drained and warmth spread inside her and she knew he’d cum deeply in her.
When he was finished, he sat up and tossed the blanket at Winnie. There was no warmth.
“Winnie,” he says, pointing at her. He points at himself. “Thomas.”
~
The night had been a long one. Winnie hardly slept. Anytime her breasts would fill with milk, Thomas was right there to suckle her deeply. She couldn’t say she didn’t enjoy it or his attention. It was somewhat of a ritual that night — suckle, lick up her messy pussy, cum deep in her, attempt to sleep. It went this way until morning and by the time she needed to be up, her breasts were already drained from the evening and she was deliciously sore between her legs.
“Well, it was nice to meet you,” she says, though she’s certain he can’t understand her. “I’d better be on my way.”
She turns to walk, but there’s a sharp pain in her head as Thomas grabs her by her hair and yanks her around to face them. He only shakes his head no.
Winnie laughs nervously. “Thomas, I have to go,” she insists, trying to break free from his grasp, but it only makes him grip harder, which in turn makes Winnie yelp in pain. “Okay! Okay! Fine!”
He doesn’t let go, choosing to leave his tent behind as he turns Winnie towards the road and begins to guide her by the back of her neck.
It was another beautiful day and although sore and tired, Winnie was more nervous about the man holding the back of her neck than she was about anything else at the moment. How was she to make it to the village and help all of these people if he never set her free? How would she make it back to her people? Would she ever see the children she mothered ever again?
The thought was morbid and it made her frown, but it didn’t last long as her back roughly hit a tree, knocking the wind from her.
“Hey!” She starts to protest, but quickly stops as she feels that familiar latch and tug. Her breasts were full of milk and Thomas was hungry. Honestly, it was like feeding a child the way he pawed at her 24/7. The thought makes her chuckle, despite her fear, and Thomas peeks up at her.
“You’re okay,” she coos, trying to nurture him as he nurses from her. She runs her fingers through his hair, getting the tangles out. Eventually, Thomas sinks to his knees, her large breasts still full and firm, but her nipples just in his reach. The new position allows him to latch more comfortable and Winnie moans again, stroking his hair.
What should’ve taken maybe twenty minutes took close to an hour. Anytime Thomas would sniff out a drop of milk, he would latch on and suckle away until her udders were empty. Then and only then would they continue walking.
It was a long journey filled with absolutely too much stopping and Winnie’s nipples were puffy and red and irritated by the time sunset drew. She was worried there’d be a repeat of last night, but Thomas only walked faster. It seemed they wouldn’t be stopping again as lush trees began to break and the first signs of life appeared. Winnie spotted log cabins, tiny homes, little shelters and bunkers that housed families and individuals. Was this where she was meant to end up all along?
Winnie tugged on Thomas’ arm, trying to get his attention. Her breasts were full, her nipples leaking and aching from all the attention and now all the pressure. It’d been four hours since he’d last pressed her against a tree, though he hadn’t tasted her cunt today at all. The thought disappointed her, only doubly so when Thomas didn’t budge.
Winnie pouted but followed behind him, her breasts aching as they swayed, the cool breeze further stiffening her hard nipples.
Once inside the village square, Thomas grabbed Winnie and pushed her forward into what looked to be a gathering of people. She tried to look around, she really did, but there was already so much chaos and she’d been too distracted by her need to be milked that she forgot to pay attention to where she was.
Hands pawed at her, many hands. Across her belly, around her breasts. She moaned as milk sprayed and all of a sudden there were different mouths on each nipple, drinking from her like they were starved.
“Thomas!” She hears someone call just as her skirt and panties are ripped from her body. “Thomas, you’ve done it! A fertile woman!”
She whips her head around, but there’s a nose in her sex once more, drinking in her scent, growling as his tongue darts out to taste her. She closes her eyes, moaning again at all the sensations. Two different latches on her nipples, multiple tongues in her cunt, against her clit, one set of fingers poking at her ass, a hand around her neck. She finally opens her eyes and realized these people are starving. And she was now their sustenance. This is what she’d come here to do.
She moans louder, encouraging them to take turns on her breasts. After all, there was plenty of her to go around.
At once, she’s filled with a cock not quite like Thomas’, but a decent one nonetheless. Her eyes roll back and she can feel her orgasm quickly approaching. They would breed her. They would keep her fertile and birthing just like her other village. Maybe she would send for some other girls, let them experience the euphoria of being freely used in this way, in bringing comfort and pleasure and full bellies to the village men so they would have more to drain their balls into.
Her hips jutted back as a finger entered her ass and her tits were groped as a man and a skinny, pale woman approached to drink from her. She only nodded, her tongue hanging from her mouth as the entire village surrounded her, all vying to get a touch, a taste, a fuck from her. She loved it.
As the night went on, her poor nipples needed breaks, but the breeding never stopped. She was filled with load after load of cum and despite keeping up, by hour six, she was spent. It seemed the villagers were motivated to work despite the fatigue, and she saw many going back to unfinished buildings and properties, men and women working together to make something great. It was inspiring to see.
“This way,” a woman says to her, smiling softly to Winnie as she’s shown to a small shelter. It was made of wood and some kind of metal roofing, but it was warm and there were blankets and Winnie would not complain. “Thomas will be in soon.”
She turned to ask why, but the woman was gone. Maybe through her milk, she could help the women with their own fertility and this village could be like her home. What a dream that would be.
As she settled in for the night, Thomas opened her tiny wooden door. He removed his pants, his now clean skin glistening as he’d come from the river, and he settled next to her. She almost protested, almost said it’d been too much from the day and she was exhausted, but Thomas didn’t touch her the way she thought he would.
No, instead, he latched onto one side, getting the last dribbles of her milk in a gentle latch that soothed every muscle in her body. She cooed softly, the sound coming from her before she could stop it, and her eyes closed.
Winnie could get used to living her. Especially if it meant ending every day of being bred and used with Thomas’ soft suckle. This felt like home, and until Winnie could ensure these people would thrive, her home it would be.