Breeding Novels & Stories

“They’re going to rape me! How could you possibly say that?!” Adeline laughs, leaning forward to hold my shoulders. “You are overthinking this, my lady. During the mating ritual, your desires and theirs cease to exists, and only one thing takes hold. The insatiable urge to merge. You forget who you are. They do too. A secret? You’re not the only one who’s frightened. The males like to act like they have it all under control, but they do not, because the mating ritual is the only time they lose all sense of self completely. They will be just as vulnerable as you. That, is not rape.”

" ​I gripped the blanket, my knuckles turning white. I had to craft a narrative that kept her from questioning me any longer. "It’s just... the pressure of the festival, I think. Hearing about the girls getting their wolves, finding their mates... it’s a lot to process. I keep worrying I won't be ready when my turn comes. What if the Goddess doesn't grant me a wolf? What if I’m just... nothing?" Maya laughed, You are just been dramatic, you will be fine

Whenever he had that look, he already had a plan cooking. "You need to get a breeder." "Why would I get a fucking breeder! You know what my mother feels about that!" I hissed. "Besides, I have more than enough concubines to warm my bed!" "Avalyn would understand that this is for the greater good! We need an heir to secure your claim to the throne. To secure every wolf's safety!" His voice boomed in the room, vibrating through the walls and back into my ears. "The humans would never think of revolting again if you have an heir. No rogue, no attack! Isn't that the kingdom you want to build for our people?" Greg spat out.

The only noise that could be heard was the soft caw of birds and the chirping of crickets. The breeding house stood tall amid the rows of bungalows considered the breeding inns. The further they approached, Draken and Agolf saw Merisbeth males in their full shift with their wings jutting out and their skin scaly, standing in a queue, waiting to get a breeding card. Already, he could hear the spanking of skin-to-skin accompanied by the moans of the breeder as their clients took them into the rooms of the inn. Silently ignoring that, they reached the breeding house. A

Lilith made her entrance and Ragnar beheld her beauty. She was in a sexy attire, alluring yet regal. It accentuated her curves and the neckline dipped low enough to show a fair amount of her breasts, leaving little to the imagination. "My Lord," she greeted with a bow, a smile curving her lips. The impregnating is usually done by artificial insemination all the time, but Ragnar always enjoyed having a taste of the girl beforehand—after all, she had to be disvirgined as giving birth as a virgin would be quite painful.

"Don't let the bones fool you. The breeder pens feed them lean. Less meat, more value when the pups take." My blood ran cold. Breeder. I knew the word. We all did. Breeders didn't serve in kitchens. They didn't clean floors or scrub boots. They were bought for one purpose, locked in a bed until they swelled with pups. Wolves needed heirs, and wolves bred true only when the bloodlines were strong. Humans, though weaker, were useful. Our wombs stretched. Our bodies bent. And we didn't have a say. The crowd stilled. The air shifted. A presence slid over the room, heavy as shadow. My skin prickled. Even before I saw him, I felt him.

Most higher ups have 2-3 breeders at a time, but some don't and enjoy the company of just one breeder. My mother was bought at 16 by my father, Arthur and he is the beta to the Willow Pack in Central. My mother was a virgin, like all other breeders, when my then 24-year-old father bought her at the main breeder auction house. He bought her for $15,000 20 years ago. My mother went on to supply my father with 8 children over 20 years.

September 17 Quinn has told me there are those among the wolfin' who can breed with wolfin and create a new generation. These breeders are called kin, sometimes referred to as kinfolk. Quinn was trying to explain how wolfin society works, and as best I can tell, the wolfin are created through genetics. There are recessive genes and dominant genes and they, the wolfin, can smell it on others. I still don't understand any of this; I am a little over my head, but I am learning. I have discovered something interesting though. It seems all kin are born with a mark, kind of an imprint on their body. Whether they are aware of the birthmark or birthright is unknown. I was told that all wolfin

My throat closes around the words. “If they’re captured and forced to be a breeder,” Ella whispers. Her hand brushes against mine in silent recognition of the painful memory of my mother. I let my fingers drift over hers in the shadow of her cloak before curling my hand into a fist and shoving it into my jacket pocket. “His parents being mates is nearly impossible but true in their case.Offspring between the two species is even more impossible. It shouldn’t happen, which is why you’re so damn unbelievable.”

Margo said, surprising the young woman. “Why did they take us? Why do that to so many people?” Penny asked. “I’m going to be blatantly honest with you.” Margo began leaning forward. “What is happening is that people like Bernard are kidnapping people for forced breeding. Believe it or not it's actually a war crime. What they’re doing is they’re taking people with superior genes and using them to breed.” “What?” Penny whispered. “Why would they do that?” “I still don’t know…What I do know is that the success of the birth determines the fate of both the breeder and the child.”