All Chapters of Breed Me Raw, Daddy: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

100 Chapters

Chapter 11: Cracks in the Routine

By the end of my second week living in the penthouse, the days had settled into a strict, overwhelming rhythm. Mornings always started with Aiden’s cock in my mouth or deep inside me. The collar never came off inside the penthouse. The cage stayed locked. And I remained plugged for most of the day unless Aiden wanted direct access. But today felt different. Aiden had been quieter than usual during breakfast. After he finished using me over the kitchen counter, a quicky, efficient fuck that left me leaking and plugged again, he sat me on his lap at the dining table, still impaled on him. “I have a meeting downtown this afternoon,” he said, one hand idly stroking my thigh. “You’ll be alone for four hours.” My heart jumped. It was the first time he’d left me unsupervised since I moved in. “Alone?” I asked softly. “Yes.” His fingers traced the edge of my collar. “You’ll stay plugged and caged. No touching yourself. When I get back, I expect you waiting on the breeding bench, presen

Chapter 12: Testing the Chains

The days were starting to blur together in the most dangerous way. By the middle of my third week, the penthouse had become my entire universe. Aiden’s rules dictated every hour. I woke up sucking him or already impaled. I stayed plugged when he worked. I ate when he fed me. I slept with his cum inside me or a thick toy keeping it there. This morning, however, Aiden gave me a small taste of structure. “You have three hours,” he said while I knelt between his legs after breakfast, his cock still softening in my mouth. “Use that time to work on your photography. Edit. Reply to clients. Whatever you need to do. But you stay plugged and caged. And you stay naked.” I nodded eagerly, desperate for even this tiny piece of my old life. For the first hour, I actually managed to focus. I sat on the floor of the spare room Aiden had turned into a small studio space, my camera connected to the laptop. The familiar weight of editing software felt strangely foreign now. I tried editing shots

Chapter 13: The First Fracture

The days after Aiden mentioned the leaked photos passed in a strange, tense haze. I tried to focus on my photography, but every time I sat down with my laptop, the weight of the collar around my neck and the plug inside me pulled my attention away. Aiden had been true to his word, he was slowly giving me small pockets of “freedom,” but they always came with conditions. This morning, he gave me four uninterrupted hours to work. I sat in the small studio space he had set up for me, wearing nothing but the collar and cage, the thick plug shifting every time I moved. My camera was connected to the laptop, and I had a backlog of unedited photos from jobs I’d taken before the gala. But my hands wouldn’t cooperate. Every few minutes, I caught myself rocking subtly on the plug, chasing the fullness I’d grown addicted to. My mind kept drifting to Aiden, the way he looked at me when he was buried deep inside me, the low growl of his voice when he called me his breeding boy. Focus, Kai. Th

chapter 14: The Weight of choice

The email from my mentor sat in my inbox like a live grenade. I stared at it for the third time that morning, the cursor hovering over the “Reply” button. The project was perfect — a week-long editorial shoot in the mountains for a major lifestyle magazine. Good money. Real exposure. The kind of opportunity that could actually move my career forward instead of keeping me stuck in endless freelance gigs. But every time I tried to type a response, my body betrayed me. The thick plug Aiden had inserted after breakfast shifted every time I moved in the chair. My hole clenched around it involuntarily, sending little sparks of pleasure through me. The collar around my neck felt heavier than usual. The steel cage kept my cock trapped and aching, a constant reminder of who I belonged to now. *Just say yes, Kai. This is your dream.* But the thought of leaving the penthouse for an entire week made my stomach twist with something close to panic. Seven days without Aiden’s cock. Seven d

Chapter 15: The Breaking Point of the First Month

The deadline loomed over me like a guillotine. I had exactly twenty-four hours left to reply to my mentor about the mountain shoot. Twenty-four hours to decide whether I would cling to the last remaining thread of my old life or let it snap completely. Aiden had been watching me closely all day. He didn’t push, but his presence was everywhere like a constant reminder of what I would be giving up if I chose the job. That afternoon, he found me in the studio again, staring blankly at the laptop screen. Without a word, he pulled me up, bent me over the desk, and fucked me slowly while I tried to keep my hands steady on the keyboard. “Still thinking about it?” he asked, grinding deep. “Yes, Daddy,” I gasped, eyes fluttering as he hit that perfect spot inside me. He reached around and tugged lightly on my cage. “You know what I think? I think you’ve already made your decision. You’re just afraid to admit it out loud.” His words cut deep because they felt true. After he knotted me a

Chapter 16: The Illusion of Balance

The morning after I declined the mountain project, I woke up with a hollow feeling in my chest. Aiden was already inside me, fucking me with slow, lazy thrusts from behind while I was still half-asleep. His arm was wrapped tightly around my waist, holding me in place as he used my body like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Morning, breeding boy,” he murmured against my neck, voice rough with satisfaction. “You made the right choice last night.” I moaned softly, pushing back against him even as guilt twisted in my stomach. I had turned down a career-changing opportunity. just for this lifestyle. For the feeling of being owned and filled every single day. After he knotted me and pumped me full, Aiden kept me plugged and sent me to the studio with a strict instruction: “Work for three hours. But stay ready for me.” I tried. God, I really tried. I sat at the desk naked except for the collar and cage, my laptop open, camera connected. I had a small commercial job due in t

Chapter 17: Losing Grip

The cracks were no longer small fractures. They were turning into deep fissures, and I could feel myself slipping through them. It had been almost a month since I moved into Aiden’s penthouse permanently. A month of waking up full of him, spending my days plugged and collared, and falling asleep with his cum still leaking out of me. My photography work were once the center of my world had become something I squeezed into the tiny gaps between being used. This morning was supposed to be important. I had a rare in-person client meeting. A small boutique brand wanted new product photos for their upcoming campaign. It wasn’t a huge job, but it was something. A chance to prove I could still function in the real world. Aiden watched me get ready with dark, unreadable eyes. “You have two hours,” he said as I stood in front of the mirror adjusting my shirt. It felt strange wearing real clothes again. “After that, I expect you back here. Plugged. Ready.” “Yes, Daddy,” I replied softly.

Chapter 18: The Slow Death of Independence

Another week slipped by in the penthouse, and with it, another piece of who I used to be quietly died. I had three client deadlines this week. Small jobs. Nothing glamorous, but enough to keep some money coming in and maintain the illusion that I was still a working photographer. Aiden had generously given me “work blocks” in his schedule four hours in the morning and two in the afternoon where I was technically allowed to focus. I was failing all of them. This morning I sat in the studio again, staring at a half-edited set of lifestyle photos for a local café. The images were decent, but nothing special. My usual sharp eye for composition and lighting had dulled. Every few minutes I would catch myself zoning out, hips rocking subtly on the thick plug Aiden had put in me after breakfast, my mind drifting to the feeling of being full rather than the color grading on my screen. You used to love this,* I thought bitterly. *You used to stay up all night perfecting one single shot. No

Chapter 19: Echoes of the Man I Used to Be

The silence in the studio felt heavier than usual. I sat cross-legged on the floor surrounded by my camera gear, memory cards scattered around me like fallen leaves. The laptop screen glowed with a half-finished gallery from a job I had shot three weeks ago before everything changed. The images were technically fine, but they lacked soul. They looked flat. Lifeless. Exactly how I felt on the inside most days now. It had been five weeks since I moved into the penthouse permanently. Five weeks of waking up full, spending my days plugged and collared, and measuring time by how long I could go without Aiden’s cock inside me. I picked up my favorite lens, turning it over in my hands. This lens had traveled with me through rainy street shoots, chaotic weddings, and quiet portrait sessions where I felt most alive. Now it sat unused for days at a time. A soft sob escaped me before I could stop it. The door opened. Aiden stepped in, still in his work shirt, sleeves rolled up. He didn’t s

Chapter 20: The Last Threads

By the end of my sixth week in the penthouse, the illusion that I could still maintain any real balance had completely shattered. I woke up the way I always did now on my stomach with Aiden’s thick cock already buried deep inside me. He was fucking me with slow, lazy thrusts, one arm wrapped around my waist, holding me in place while he used my body to wake himself up. “Morning, breeding boy,” he murmured against my ear, voice still husky with sleep. “Your hole was clenching around me all night again. So greedy.” I moaned softly, pushing back against him even as a wave of exhaustion and shame washed over me. My body had become so conditioned that it responded to him instantly, but my mind was starting to fracture under the weight of what I was losing. After he knotted me and filled me for the first time that day, Aiden kept me plugged and sent me to the studio with clear instructions: “You have four hours. Try to salvage some of your remaining clients.” I tried. God, how I tried

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