Even the highest ranking Citizens had appointments to keep at the Breeding Post. It didn't matter how much influence, status, or sway they had. Money didn't mean anything when it came to something so important. The Post was government funded, government controlled, and in their rapidly declining population - it had been deemed necessary. So, when she had missed her first yearly appointment to the Post, she had earned herself an armed escort for the second.
Upper Chamberlain Heléna Wessin was to serve the Breeding Post two weeks, the extra seven days past the norm a punishment for having missed her first appointment. She was flanked by two armoured men as she arrived, both of them completely covered. Their helmet visors were polarized and didn't even allow her to meet their eyes. She couldn't tell if they were in any way mutated or not. Not that she cared anymore. She work with Mutes every day. Their deformations didn't faze her. Much.
"Gate Nine," one of them demanded, his voice muzzy through the helmet mic.
Heléna did as told, steering toward the gate he had directed her toward. Her chin lifted proudly as she kept her gaze ahead, barely acknowledging their continued presence as she stepped up to the checkpoint at the gate. She was surprised to see no line, no other citizens.
"It's a randomized gate, Princess," one of the guards murmured, his mic buzzing. "In case you thought you weren't being punished enough for your insolence."
Her own personal guards would never speak to her so vindictively. It was only the anonymity of the Breeding Post that made him so bold. Especially in regards to a randomized gate. It meant that she would be housed in a place where anyone could breed her freely. Posted Citizens, Mutes, off duty soldiers or guards. It was a free use gate and while not surprised, she was concerned by her placement.
She really had made a terrible decision in disregarding the first summons. She had just truly hoped her work might keep her from being punished too harshly.
"Chamberlain, hello," the unarmoured soldier at the checkpoint offered jovially. "We have a nice warm spot picked out for you, real plush."
The guards at her back both chuckled at his patronizing exaggeration and while their mics didn't read it she still heard it well enough.
"Be a good Citizen now and strip off the finery. The boys here will have a quick look over."
She had been through all of this plenty before, the check in procedure usually the same at every gate. Heléna removed her clothing as dryly and perfunctorily as she could manage, looking over the gate guard's shoulder to an invisible point behind him on the great gray outer wall of the Post. They looked the same in every city, dull stone and imposingly blockish, few windows and all of them grated. One of her accompanying guards made a slow groaning sound from under his helmet as she bent and slid off her pants and undergarments at once.
"Unbecoming," she snapped back.
"So's deserting your duty to the Citizenry, Chamberlain," the other responded sharply.
She hated this place.
It never failed to ruin her life for the next seven to nine months. At least when breeding took and held. She couldn't remember the exact number of times she had been impregnated.
"Point made," she sighed, turning toward the guard who had spoken. "Let's get this over with."
She could only imagine the look on his face as he stepped close to search and grope her, inevitably fondling her more than necessary as he searched her. She wasn't stupid, had brought nothing with her. Still, the cold plating on the backs of his gloves rubbed down her stomach slowly before he turned his hand and cupped against her cunt.
"Spread it," he ordered, the middle gloved finger searching between her labia and prodding at her entrance. She turned her head away as she spread her thighs, slightly squatting. The same thing was happening to a young blonde girl the next gate over, tears streaming down her round face.
Heléna assumed it was the girl's first time. She looked like she had just come of age.
"Anything inside?" her guard asked.
"Of course not," she whispered, watching the young woman twenty yards away. "I'm not an idiot."
His gloved finger thrust up into her hard and fast, wriggling around and pushing in her dry channel, making her flinch. He pulled free after a moment and turned her, his arm looping her waist as the same finger rubbed between her cheeks. He was at least slower as he probed the tight ring of her anus, working at her. Her neighbor didn't receive the same kindness, crying out as her own guard jammed his finger up her ass.
"Any undocumented mutations? Allergies? Medical issues?"
"None," she answered the checkpoint guard, wincing as her other guard's gloved finger finally popped up past the ring of her anus.
"Undocumented pregnancies?"
"Thankfully, no," Heléna answered, her hands gripping the arm at her waist as he fished his finger deeper, rubbing it in circles. The plating on the glove caught and made her whine as she leaned over his arm.
"Last pregnancy?"
"Last cycle. No mutations."
The guard with his finger up her ass chuffed a breath against her hair, "Likely won't get the same result this time, Princess. Muties'll be happy to cream up your tight little cunt."
"Enough," the guard at the gate snapped, his eyes darkening as he looked over her shoulder. "She's still your Upper Chamberlain."
"That she is," he answered, tugging his finger abruptly from her ass and making her wince. He shoved her forward toward the sliding door and she tried to inhale deeply as the gate opened. "Breed well, my Chamberlain."
Fuck.
She really had made a gross miscalculation.
*
At least they hadn't lied about the room being warm. In fact, she was too warm, near on the verge of sweating. She had been enclosed in her own cell after receiving fertility encouragement injections. The plastiglass wall and inset door made her well visible to any passer by and to the man across the hall from her. He had barely acknowledged her yet, his head hung forward in his hands as he sat at the edge of his bed. She subconsciously assessed his flaccid cock, appreciating its lean length and large head. Heléna forced herself to stop staring at it and turn toward the bed, suddenly feeling a little dizzy, swaying and sweaty.
The injections had her feeling swimmy and strange, her limbs the embodiment of a physical slur as she stepped toward the bed.
She didn't remember it feeling quite so strange before. They had to have added something more. And from the way her cunt was throbbing and frothing she could only imagine its sole job was to cause arousal.
It was working.
Her nipples were stiff and painful suddenly, her stomach vicing into a rock low in her gut. Her cunt was grasping at nothing, needing filling. Warmer, she was getting warmer. Her labia were slick and her asshole hot.
It wasn't the room that was sweltering. It was her.
"This feels..." she whimpered, bending over the edge of her own pristine white bed. "Gods."
She heard her door slide open and she turned rapidly, noting both the figure in the doorway and her companion across the way. He was watching with interest as she flopped down onto her bed and turned her eyes to the guest at her door.