Wrong World ( Reverse Harem)

Wrong World ( Reverse Harem)

  • WpView
    LECTURES 957
  • WpVote
    Votes 48
  • WpPart
    Chapitres 5
WpMetadataReadContenu pour adultesEn cours d'écriture18m
WpMetadataNoticeDernière publication jeu., déc. 19, 2024
I didn't come into this world from love. My mother and her husband at the time didn't want children . My father cheated over and over and end up with 13 kids all girls . My mom tried to leave that ended with a busted lip and bruises . She met someone new I was a year old. they wren't married till my youngest sister was born , but I think they loved each other . I ended up having a baby brother and two sister's . We grew up and they started fighting and he cheated over and over. I was now nineteen worked two jobs still lived at home with the fighting, it got physical several times. My mom threatened to leave , she's weak . Something happened today, people started getting sick mostly women and older people, my family is gone all dead. It's been two years I'm now twenty one, men rule this world , women are taken or sold to produce more girls , most boys are killed or left to die. I've gotten stronger , I can kill a man without thinking . I'm in the woods hiding they found me , I'm bleeding and can't move my leg . I think this might be it . I won't let them take me alive. I passed out.
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In agony I deliver the children of faceless, infertile clients. To them I am nothing more than a vessel, bearing the fruit they so wish to carry within themselves. They love me for my ability, and they hate me for it. This is why I am hidden away here in the Factory where they cannot see my rounded stomach, swollen with their life. When the life inside me is gone, birthed into their eagerly-waiting arms, I will be left with nothing. I will be impregnated again, and again, until my body is ruined and I am sent away. I should question this system, this ritualistic rending of my heart, but I do not-in fact, I volunteered for this job. And now, six babies later, I am afraid to leave. It is better to carry life, even temporarily, than to have never carried it at all.

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