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The sleepy town of Cumcock was world-famous for its monthly Rutting Fair. What had begun as an annual tradition in the summertime, where the local men would breed the townswomen to keep their town alive, had transformed into a monthly event of the most carnal nature. Breeders now travelled to the mountainside town on the second Saturday of each month to breed as many bitches as they could. Ordinary men came along to watch or, occasionally, fuck the already impregnated yet still insatiable bitches.
The Cumcock Rutting Fair attracted all sorts of bitches – those single and in heat, desperate for relief; the happily married whose husbands got off on watching their wife be taken by another man; and the bitches who attended in secret, aroused by the opportunity to deceive their husbands and birth a baby that didn’t belong to him.
Some of the breeders attended casually, though others saved themselves for this monthly rut, going so far as to isolate themselves from society to avoid temptation in between events. These breeders were the most volatile, most unpredictable.
Brock had waited five agonising weeks for this month’s fair. Barricaded in his home, his memories of last month’s ruts flooded every fibre of his thoughts: the bitches who’d only just reached breeding age; the bitch who’d organised her bachelorette party at the fair, begging Brock to breed her and the whole party; the teacher whose former student had escorted her to the fair, breeding her in retribution for his exam results; and, most enticingly, the bitch who’d given birth only a week before the fair, who Brock had bred while her newborn clung to her swinging tits for a feed. Her husband had been the one holding the baby while Brock bred the bitch.
When Brock wasn’t reliving his memories, he was consumed by fantasies of what the next fair might present. He’d been breeding bitches for nearly ten years, and still each rut enticed him. The bitches were always described as insatiable, but Brock challenged that conception – really, it was his cock that was insatiable, always with a mind of its own.
Having come to the fair for a few years now, Brock had a routine that he always stuck to. He loved to start his day with sloppy fucks, breeding the experienced bitches desperate for a brutal fuck, even if it meant conceiving their twelfth child. After that, he’d take a break at the glory hole, where bitches got off on the thrill of never seeing their breeder, only finding out the most basic details from their microchip.
After refuelling at lunch, he’d take his cock to the deflowering tent, where the virgin bitches awaited. The cashed-up virgins would all be bred in the morning, but by the afternoon it would be only the desperate: parents bringing in their unmarriable daughters, or, more enticingly, the reluctant virgins who’d thrown a fit in the morning and had to be worn down before they could be bred. A little reluctance added such a thrill.
Sometimes, in the springtime, he’d have a go in the muddy pig pen, but it was usually more hassle than it was worth – Brock was happy to leave that to the breeders who took their identity more literally.
The breeders arrived early at the fair. Given the huge popularity of the event, officials had stepped in to regulate things. Brock merely tolerated the STI checks, while he looked forward to the sample ruts.
He waited in line for a few moments, watching as the officials signed in each of the breeders. All were women – some who were simply opportunists and loved a free fuck, others who knew this would be their only chance to feel a cock in their cunts. A few cunts were already bent over for the breeders to rut.
“Good morning,” a busty blonde greeted him, pulling Brock from his trance as he watched a girthy black breeder take a petite redhead. “Do you have your registration details, sir?”
Brock licked his lips and handed over his ID wallet – it contained his breeder identification and a chip that tracked all of his breedings and offspring. While the blonde bitch scanned the card on her computer, Brock stared unashamedly at her tits.
The event organisers had gone through many revisions of the code of conduct for the Cumcock Rutting Fair – the clothing custom had had many controversial changes over the years. The purists advocated for a complete ban on all garments – they believed that breeders and bitches should be in their most natural form, ready for rutting in any moment. Others argued that breeders should have a choice to wear some level of clothing for their own discretion. Others demanded that bitches should be presented in delicate lingerie for the breeder’s pleasure or, more conservatively, be presented fully clothed, for the breeders to remove garments to their own delight.
With all the arguing and debate, the committee decided to remove any customs on clothing – breeders and bitches could decide however they wanted to dress. There were now zones of the fair where clothing was strictly prohibited, and other tents sarıyer escort with more specific clothing mandates.
The busty blonde who was signing Brock in was one of the purists – she stood at her computer completely naked, in only her black stiletto heels.
Brock watched her tits bounce and sway as she typed on her computer, deliberately arching her back so that Brock could see their weight and fullness.
Her nipples were bright pink and fully erect, elongated like a milker’s. It wasn’t uncommon for bitches to get themselves bred so that they could work at the dairy. These bitches only had to be bred once for official purposes, but it wasn’t uncommon for them to present themselves for additional opportunities, especially given the population crisis.
“I just need to do the screening now, sir,” she winked, pulling on latex gloves and taking a swab kit from the drawer.
Brock released his cock from his grey sweatpants, already rock hard. His cock was thoroughly engorged with a vibrant flush, the head dripping precum.
With perfectly manicured nails, the blonde traced the swab all over his cock. She knew what she was doing – the bitch applied the faintest of pressure, barely touching his cock at times. The feather-like tease drove him wild, so much so that he started to buck his hips involuntarily.
“Oh my,” the bitch marvelled with feigned surprise. “Aren’t you quite the bull?”
Instinctively, Brock reached his hand forward and grasped the bitch’s throat. He squeezed threateningly until she gasped, “Sorry, sir.” Brock released her. “I do apologise, sir, I forgot my manners. My cunt started gushing at the sight of your glorious cock, sir, and I lost my mind for a second. Thank you for your reminder, sir.”
Brock barely grunted an acknowledgement of her apology. He was a true, instinctual breeder, but he was also a stickler to tradition – the bitches needed to know their place. They did that by showing submission and respect to the breeders at all times.
The blonde bitch finished her swabbing tease of Brock’s cock and plugged the sample tray into her computer. It took ten seconds for the system to process the sample and flash green – Brock had the all clear to rut to his cock’s content at the fair.
The bitch turned a sweet, coquettish smile to Brock. “That’s the sign in done, sir.” She handed back the ID wallet to Brock after stamping it with a receipt from the STI check, then immediately turned around and bent herself over. Her hands gripped her ankles and her cunt was fully on display. “Now we just need the sample-“
Brock didn’t give the bitch the chance to finish – he simply took a step forward and impaled the bitch. Right to the hilt.
He released a guttural moan of relief and relished in the bitch’s agonised squeal. She’d taken many monster cocks in her cunt at the dairy, but a true breeder’s was something that couldn’t be replicated.
Brock held the bitch’s hips and let his mind take over. He needed his first few ruts to be senseless, instinctive – he needed to save his mental strength for his virgins at the end of the day.
Brock grunted and huffed as he fucked the blonde bitch. She was practised in rough fucks and held her ankles tightly, but relied on Brock’s grip to keep her up. Brock watched as her milking tits swung aggressively, spilling droplets of creamy milk on the concrete floor.
A few photographers came over to assess the scene – some took still photos while others captured videos to upload to the event’s social media pages. Brock didn’t spare a moment to try to look good – he wanted the raw, messy reality of the Rutting Fair on display.
The photographers stayed to watch Brock finish. He reached a hand around to massage the bitch’s elongated clit – a clear sign of her milking role – which contracted her cunt and elicited his release. Brock drove himself to the hilt, holding the bitch’s cunt hostage as he caught his breath.
She felt ropes of his cum enter her cunt, which finally drove her over the edge to orgasm. As part of their training, milkers were required to cum on command to only two things – cum being shot into their cunts and milk being extracted from their tits. They were desensitised to everything else, though it took a few years for that to take effect. It was clear that this bitch was a veteran milker.
The bitch’s cunt drained Brock’s cock. As he finished, he took his microchip pen from his pocket and inserted his first chip of the day. He pierced it into her asscheek, knowing she’d feel it every time she sat down for the next twelve months. A permanent reminder that she had been bred by him.
“Ready for it?” Brock asked the photographers.
They circled around him, ready for the withdrawal shot.
Brock made sure to go slowly. The bitch’s cunt was so used, it made loud slurping sounds as he pulled out. The videographers would love it. It would draw billions of views online.
Brock şarkışla escort watched as his cockhead was freed from the spent cunt. He stayed a moment to watch his seed overflow and start dripping down her cunt, then stepped away to let the photographers do their thing. He turned away from her cunt and headed through to the fair, ready to start his day.
Brock was dressed only in his grey sweatpants, but he let his cock stand free, proudly guiding his steps. He gave a few nods to other breeders as they navigated their way to the tents. Most were stark naked, proud to have their cocks on display while others wore simple sweats or shorts, knowing they’d be abandoned before the day was done. Kinkier breeders wore special equipment on their cocks – harnesses and cockrings were most common, though some had extravagant lingerie of sorts.
Brock made his way to his first tent, affectionately known as the Slut Stuffer. The bitches who knew their place came to this tent – those who fully embraced their role and purpose in the rawest form. These bitches loved to be thrown around and fucked with aggression, relishing in the dehumanisation of it all.
There was no clear organisation or rule here – beds, couches and tables were scattered throughout the tent. It was a free fuck for all.
Breeders rarely made conversation with each other when their cocks were out, but they did exchange some brief greetings and small talk while they awaited the fair to open to the public – it wouldn’t be long now.
Brock took the opportunity to stretch his groin and hamstring. He spied two breeders warming up each other’s cocks with handjobs on the other side of the tent, sitting beside each other on a bed. Some breeders loved working in groups to double fuck bitches, each of them leaving chips for the bitch to figure out later on who had fathered the offspring.
Brock appreciated the scandal of it all, but he wanted those cunts to be his alone while his cock was buried in them. He’d had to fight off other breeders who tried to steal his bitches mid-rut. It hadn’t ended well for the other guys.
His memory of that sweet relief occupied his mind, interrupted only by the electronic system announcing, “Breeders and bitches, welcome to the Cumcock Rutting Fair!”
There was a flurry of movement in the main courtyards as bitches made their way to their favourite tents. The Slut Suffer was a huge attraction that drew many bitches, so it was close to the main entrance to prevent wayward cunt juices creating an occupational hazard.
Bitches filed into the tent, taking to the nearest breeder they could find. The breeders got straight to work – holding the bitches down over couches, tables and beds to impale their dripping cunts.
The Slut Stuffer was a noisy tent – moans of whores echoed around, mixing with the squelches of their railed cunts. Nothing was synchronised – every bitch was being fucked to each breeder’s rhythm, resulting in a constant, ever-lasting melody.
Two bitches approached Brock together, arms linked. They were identical twins. Brock had to blink twice – they looked incredibly young, but he knew he could trust the event staff that these bitches were of breeding age.
They both had the same bleached blonde hair that they’d tied up in two pigtails on either side of their heads. They wore whoreish makeup and dressed like slutty schoolgirls – cropped collared shirts, plaid micro skirts and fishnet stockings that led to black pumps.
“My, my, my,” Brock began, pumping his cock gently, capturing the eyes of the identical bitches. “What do we have here?”
Both bitches averted their eyes from Brock’s cock to recite a line they’d clearly rehearsed.
“Hello, sir,” they said together. “We are Maisy and Daisy, and we need to be fucked.”
Dumb blondes.
“Oh I’m going to do more than fuck you, Maisy and Daisy.”
The sluts gasped together.
“I’m going to breed your whore cunts until you take my seed.”
The bitches bit their lips in unison and then together marvelled, “Thank you, sir.”
Brock’s cock didn’t let him play around much longer – it had been an agonising five weeks and it needed to breed. He quickly bent one of the bitches over a table, tore her stockings open and rammed his cock deep in her cunt. The bitch moaned beneath him while her sister sat herself on the table and watched, trying to look cute while she felt herself up.
Brock ripped through the buttons on the sister’s shirt, exposing her bare tits. They were perfect bimbo tits – fake and full of plastic, the perfect spheres sitting unnaturally high on the bitch’s chest.
He railed the first sister while he watched the other tease her own tits, keeping her eyes locked with Brock’s.
“I’m cumming!” the first sister shrieked like a whore, writhing beneath Brock. He didn’t pause for her release. He continued to rut, marvelling in her cunt’s contractions.
The sister became şarköy escort lost to her instincts, desperate to be bred herself. She spread her legs open wide on the table and began fingering herself. She lost herself to the moans of her sister and the unceasing ramming of the breeder’s cock.
Brock watched as her sister reached a hand out to assist with her finger fucking. Brock’s blood pumped harder as he watched both sisters’ fingers get lost in Daisy’s sopping cunt.
“Yes, Maisy, help me,” Daisy begged. “You know I can’t cum without you.”
Maisy replied, “Come closer so I can do it properly.”
Daisy shuffled over and opened her cunt wide into Maisy’s mouth. Maisy dove straight in, suckling her sister’s clit. Daisy lost herself and succumbed to her whoreish instincts, thrusting her cunt right into her sister’s face.
The scene drove Brock wild. His body took over and he rutted the bitch to completion, relishing in his release. He held himself to the hilt as his seed took to the bitch.
“Oh my god,” Maisy marvelled, her lips glistening with her sister’s cunt juices.
“Did he breed your cunt, sister?” Daisy asked with enthusiasm.
Her sister nodded with spent excitement.
“Thank you, sir,” Daisy said, biting her lip, excited for her turn.
Brock took his opportunity to have some fun with the sister sluts.
“There’s enough in your cunt for the both of you,” he said as he withdrew his cock.
The sisters understood and got straight to work, desperate to not waste a drop of Brock’s seed.
Daisy lay herself down on the table, legs spread, while Maisy mounted her cunt over hers. They locked their drenched cunts together and began to grind.
“Oh, I can feel it,” the unbred slut cried. “I can feel his seed.”
Brock took out his chip pen. He inserted a chip into Maisy’s lower back, right on top of her tramp stamp tattoo. He waited and watched to see if the sisters could successfully transfer his seed.
“Let me see,” he commanded. Maisy lifted herself from her sister’s cunt so Brock could assess the situation.
Stupid bimbos, they’d only spread his seed on a surface level.
Without a second thought, Brock drove his cock into Daisy’s cunt. Maisy squealed as she was pushed down into her sister’s exposed chest, lying there while the breeder fucked his bitch.
Brock needed these bitches bred together – he relished in the idea of them both producing his identical offspring, together.
This rut only took a few moments – his cock was hungry for release.
While the sister bitches squealed, he filled the second cunt with his potent seed. He waited a moment until it had caught, then chipped the second bitch and withdrew.
The bitches forgot Brock was there. They lay in the table together, arranging themselves so they could suck each other’s cunts. They were desperate to taste and relish in Brock’s seed.
Brock nearly lost another load at the sight of them, moaning and covered in his seed. He had to walk away.
He took off his pants – reminding himself for the umpteenth time that he shouldn’t bother with them next month – and then found a new spot in the tent for his next fuck.
He locked eyes with a man who was leading in a woman. She was walking on all fours, collar around her neck and gag in her mouth. Perfect. He beckoned them over.
* * *
Brock had bred eighty-two bitches by lunch time. He took time to rest and recharge his cock before he finished his day in the deflowering tent. He’d fucked enough whores, now he wanted to play with some more delicate bitches.
The deflowering tent was a relatively classy affair. It was more organised and clean than the other, rougher breeding tents. This one offered small rooms created with privacy screens. Sometimes a third person would be in the room – usually fathers who wanted confirmation that their daughters had been bred – but otherwise it was just the breeder and his virgin bitch in heat.
Brock made his way over to the tent, his cock leading the way again. He passed by the pillaries, where bitches were restrained while bred in the open square. It was a thrill to see so many tits and cunts on display as other bitches watched on.
The virgin area was quieter than the main fair, and Brock relished in the serenity of it.
“Hello, sir, welcome,” a naked woman greeted him as he entered the tent. Her belly was swollen, probably seven months into her pregnancy. “Are you here to breed or have someone deflowered?”
Brock looked at the woman incredulously but kept his tone polite as he answered, “I’m a breeder.”
“Fabulous!” she chirped, “Let me show you to a free room, sir.”
The bitch led the way through the maze of makeshift rooms. As he followed, Brock caught sight of a shining jewel on her ass – a shimmering green stone on the base of her butt plug. Brock lost all sense of direction, focusing in hard on the way her ass cheeks caressed the gem as she walked. He could tell from her gait that it must have been quite a large plug – or perhaps this was her virgin anal stuffing.
The mystery thrilled Brock’s cock.
“Here you are, sir,” she chirped, twisting around and disrupting Brock’s fantasies. “We’ll send in your first client shortly.”
With that, she walked away, leaving Brock to watch the shining gem again. He licked his lips.
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