Adult-FanFiction.org : Games

Breeding Season: The Making of a Kingpin	By : Cokemonster Category: +A through F > Breeding Season Views: 7479 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Breeding Season, nor the characters from it. I do not make any money from writing this story.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
Author’s Notes:
Breeding Season was cancelled. I don’t know exactly when. It’s 7/14/16 right now. Seems recent. I don’t know how to fucking feel about it except a mix between frustration and depression. I don’t know Hbomb. I don’t know Spurple. I have no fucking clue the details save for what Hbomb posted. I don’t know who to believe. The people claiming bad management on Hbombs part throughout or the obvious betrayal Spurple committed. I’ve always been indecisive like that.
Haaaaaaaa… I barely got into this story, and this shit happens. I really liked that world they were building. The game was fun. Ripperoni, I guess. There’s no reason to continue writing this. Almost all of it has nothing to do with the main game anyways. I’ll just adapt the ideas I have with this into an original work someday. Apologies if anyone actually enjoyed this. Peace.
1
(It’s a well-known fact that if you put a cock in a monster’s mouth, it’ll bite it off. Don’t do monsters, kids.)
In the morning, harvest those monsters not scheduled for afternoon transport or evening breeding. Tend to any special needs monsters require, such as grooming, medical aid, or subsidiary wants such as particular foods they like. Bring harvested product down to the Research Department for testing. Prepare and load any stock scheduled for afternoon transport. Aid in said transportation, or carry out any additional tasks Boss gives. In the evening, prepare and breed any monsters scheduled for breeding in the Love Pit. Remove any spawn resulting from said breeding and store inside Temporary Holding. Clean any used equipment throughout the day and insure a sanitary work environment for other employees as well as the stock. Report any incidents, new spawn, anomalies, or sexual harassment to your supervisor.
Joey was run through an entire day of what this surprisingly humdrum job entailed. Wheatley showed him each warehouse in more detail, particularly Warehouse 1. There was a lot more to monster breeding than he’d expected. He wondered how it compared to raising regular livestock. At times, it resembled the dreary tales of hours’ worth of manual labor needed to care for an acre of crop or cow. Wheatley would explain how to angle the teat of a holstaurus, or how to deal with aggressive dickwolves, or how to throw a lasso correctly on a fleeing monster. But then he would say how it was faster to harvest a catgirl by using common foreplay techniques. Or he’d mention that it was unwise to separate monsters once they’ve penetrated/been penetrated. Or he would explain in graphic detail how to successfully suckle on said teat to raise the happiness of said holstaurus. Joey was in a constant maelstrom of new knowledge that bored, confused, or excited him. His head became light every time a naked catgirl was mundanely walked between warehouses, and his body shuddered at the sight of those horrid dogs on two legs. It was like the first day on a new job, except everything was written in elven arcana and cocks and pussy were as routine as breathing.
Wheatley, unknowing or uncaring of Joey’s befuddled demeanor, continued with fists plunged in his overalls whilst droning on. “—And this is where we clean the pails, wash ourselves off, etcetera. Etcetera.”
They turned the corner to come to the compound’s backside. A golden, yet ever darkening forest without desecration lay beyond the fence. Within the thin alley that was the backyard of this immoral home, a stone well was surrounded by those shiny pails. They were stacked separately, some glistening with freshness and others gummy with mysterious liquids and grime. Several men and women stood near the well. All were shirtless, some without pants, their garments rung and hanging limp on the fence. It was three women and four men standing in a messy line with buckets and rags. They cleaned in an orderly fashion, talking amongst themselves as they passed pails and buckets of well water. Joey’s eyes naturally lingered on the wet bodies of the females. The white skin of their bellies and breasts juxtaposed with their faintly tanned arms, faces, and shoulders. Those bright sections were very alluring amidst the natural greens and browns of the forest.
Joey was nudged, rudely awakened from the gorgeous, if bizarre, scene. Wheatley had a knowing frown.
“What?” Joey tossed his arms up. “How am I not supposed to stare?”
Wheatley sighed. He hurriedly wrenched Joey around with surprising strength. They started back from where they’d come. “Let’s get one thing very clear here, rook.” He kept his arm around Joey, talking low and uncomfortably close.
“Uh…” Joey allowed himself to be hauled away, feeling the Tough Guy act didn’t suit the thin-meat red head. “…What else? You’ve made a lot of things clear.”
“Don’t fuck employees.” He said. “At least not onsite and on shift. Fuck who you want in town, after hours, whatever. But if I catch even a whiff of your cum on another Breeder during the day, you’re out of here. There’s going to be bitches like Roanne and Hilda who are going to offer to get you in a load of trouble.”
“I—is that so?” Joey rebounded at the thought. He wondered if hazing on that level could be considered so.
“Keep your mind well above your tented britches, rook.” Wheatley released him as they reached the front.
The camo wearing workers were much harder to see lurking in or beyond the fence. Most of the others had gone home by now, and the compound once again took on that eerie silence. Joey was very unnerved about being this deep in an ever darkening forest. He desperately wanted to ask when he would be given leave of this place, as he’d had more than enough of it for one day. He let Wheatley guide him anyway. Whining now would defeat all of the credit he’d racked up today. You don’t jerk off a dickwolf, and then complain about hours. Even if it seems you’ve earned the right to. It was just counterintuitive. Joey’d committed, and he was going to stay committed.
“Boss probably wants to see you one last time.” Wheatley said. “See how you’re holding up.”
Joey did his best to muster some humor to disguise the nerves in his voice. “How ya think I’m doing?”
Wheatley didn’t look at him as he seemed to ponder it. Instead, he scanned the area idly. After more than a second, he tossed the reply into the still air between them. “Fine.”
“Fine?” Joey said, slightly surprised by the verdict. “What does a new guy have to do to get a ‘great’, or even a ‘good’ around here?”
“You did fine. You just don’t have the experience yet. What more do you…” Wheatley stopped at the edge of Warehouse 2, gazing toward the fence’s gate. The sleepy, casual demeanor Joey’d managed to broach from the man vanished and was replaced by that low sighing cynicism he had first encountered. “Fuck. Her again.”
Joey followed his line of sight, managing to make out a silhouette approaching the compound. A guard stopped it, much in the same manner as one had done to him. The figure didn’t scream out a reply, however, and appeared to gain the guard’s favor with short words.
“Who’s that? Ex-girlfriend?”
“Your recruiter.” He said grudgingly. The way he said it was exactly how a bishop of the faith scorned a girl’s skirt that was above the knee.
They watched the figure hesitantly push open the broken security gate. Joey saw it to be Blaire just as she noticed them in turn. A sudden, invisible stab caused Joey’s heart to pick up pace. As she brazenly strolled toward them, he became aware he was straightening his posture without knowing the reason why. The sight of this woman (elf) again made him flustered, jumpy, and concerned for his safety all at once. Her eyes were without those false imposters, their black depth sending Joey shuddering most of all.
Is she going to kidnap me again? Bound and force herself on me? Hurt me? All three? It could honestly be all three. I wonder if she’s still mad that I mentioned that little escapade to her boss.
“Good evening, boys.” She said. Any hint of scorn or anger was undetectable. She came to stop a comfortable distance away from the two, gravel crunching under her sandals. Her arms crossed under her bust, making them easier to distinguish (if only a little) from under her heavy coat. “How has our newblood faired? Exceptional, I hope.”
“Terrible. Doesn’t know a thing about monster breeding.” Wheatley said promptly. His hands were deep in his overalls, his face a blank slate counter to his reaction upon seeing the woman.
Joey broke from his unconscious staring. He shot a glare at the liar that was ignored. “What? You just said I was doing fine.”
“It’s called being mannered.” Wheatley said without facing him. “I’ll try to spare your feelings next time.”
Blaire stifled a sudden giggle. When she did this, it was hard to remember she was a monster until she opened her eyes again. “That’s your job, dear. You can’t expect everyone I bring to have a degree in the field.”
Wheatley produced a Tch sound as he scratched his nose. “Yeah, well it’d help. I’ve got duties to oversee. C’ya.”
He made his abrupt departure swift, but not before giving Joey a look that was easy enough to decipher: Watch yourself. He was gone toward the pens after that, not another word to either of them.
Joey grimaced as he watched him go. The last thing he wanted was to be left alone with this woman. The sudden warning only made him more anxious to be away from her. He quickly put on a brighter face, and mentally told himself: Fuck it. Act natural.
“So…” Joey began. “Is that one always such a hardass?”
Blaire gave a small grin, shifting her weight on one leg. “He just isn’t so fond of me, and always takes it out on the newblood I bring in. Such a childish boy.”
Joey hmm’d neutrally, glancing back after the man that he’d be training under.
Wheatley’s a boy, huh? Wonder how old she is. 20? 200?
He remained true to the sound advice is father once gave him: Never ask a woman’s age. Instead, he went with the next thing on his mind. “What, does he have something against elves?”
Blaire shrugged, obviously indifferent to the subject. “I don’t mind if he is. Plenty of humans are just like him. Plenty more dangerously bold enough to act on their beliefs.” She slowly closed the distance. Her voice became low, whispering in the dimness between them. “Why don’t you stop by my lodge sometime? We can speak more freely there. I could give you some advice. Helpful tips.”
Joey tensed up. He was glad it wasn’t noon. His forehead would be glistening. “D’awwm… I don’t know. I think I got everything—“
“Shhhh.” It did little to calm him, but it did quiet him. “It’s just west of here. Come by after work some time, darling.”
With that, she broke away and strolled passed him. Joey was left to watch her backside sway away. It was about the dozenth time he’d been dumbfounded this day alone. He was growing mighty sick of it. He took another few seconds to put her offer at the back of his mind and followed after her. She was heading to the Boss’ office, same as him.
2
Joey did his best to focus on the emptiness. The crates, the mosquitoes buzzing around the lights overhead. Anything. Anything save for Benny’s glowering stare.
They were outside the small office, Benny covering the door as if expecting Joey to suddenly charge for it. The window’s blinds were keeping whatever exchange Blaire and that harpy were having. All that could be discerned were slight muffles. Nothing strange. Joey expected the worst anyway. He had to, otherwise he’d be blindsided by yet another crazy something. It wasn’t pleasant being on his toes like this all of the time, but it seemed he would be for a long while to come. He couldn’t imagine ever getting used to all of this.
“Seems like everybody’s gone home.” Joey said, more to himself. He came out more forced than he’d liked it to.
Benny remained silent, letting the thought linger there like a sweaty undergarment. The man kept true to the impression Joey formed of him. Strong and silent. Now all he had to do was murder something, and Joey would be three for three.
“I thought you’d be trouble.”
Joey was caught off guard by the brute’s cavernous voice. He faced the man, finding it to be exactly as scowling as it’d been earlier, like he’d said nothing at all. Joey didn’t believe he was hearing voices in his head, and so responded.
“Y—yeah? Well, I’d thought you were going to rip me to shreds first time I saw you.” Joey coughed a sort of chuckle, not sure he wanted a conversation with the man now that he was having one.
Benny finally broke his focused stare on the tiny Joey. He shifted in his resolute stance. “Don’t cause trouble for the Boss.”
Before Joey could stammer out reassurance, the door opened and slammed into Benny’s elbow. There was a loud thwop, but the man only glanced to his side.
“Oh.” Blaire said. “Sorry.”
Benny stepped to the side, allowing for her exit. She gave another apology, which he only nodded to. She wasn’t discouraged or fearful at all toward him. When she noticed Joey, she just gave a wink and went on her way. Joey could make out the faint jingling of coin from her swaying hips. He suddenly became very curious of what she’d been paid for. He could guess, but it what he came up with was kind of disheartening.
How much coin had she earned off me? Hope it was more than 100 gil. I’d be disappointed if I was worth any less.
“Anyone else out there, Benny?” The harpy’s childlike yell came from within.
Joey quit lingering on the thought. He looked to Benny. The towering man gave a curt nod.
Joey entered the harpy’s den. The near hundred books stacked about were lit by a single lantern, the one that’d been used to blind him last night. It had atop it a lamp shade that clearly didn’t belong to it dispersing the harsh light to become manageable. The harpy was sitting high at a desk that was too big for it. It had its talons on the table, somehow grasping a fat stick Joey could only guess was a custom writing implement. Its back was hunched as it poured over a large tome. With the talon holding the writing tool, it scratched a few markings on the paper with uncanny nimbleness. It wasn’t until the harpy set the tool down and looked up that it noticed him standing there. Small reading glasses shimmered on the rim of its nose. This all coalesced into the perfect image of a child trying too hard to appear adult.
“Oh! Joey. Just who I wanted to see.” It said, bringing her birdlike leg up and plucking off its glasses with three nails that should have crushed them. “Please, sit.”
Joey did, taking to the formal chair across from her. It wasn’t until he sat in it that he noticed how low it was. His knees were bent high, head now level if a bit lower than the harpy’s. He had no doubt this was intentional, and thought it was rather cute. Raimey did the exact same thing with her furniture. Short people problems were lost on Joey, but he recognized compensation when he saw it.
“Uh. Wheatley said you’d want to see me.”
“Ah. Good. He wasn’t skipping on duties after all.” It closed the tome just as deftly as it had written in it, and then shifted it to one corner near a stack of similarly weighty books. “How’d your first day of training go? Enjoyable, I hope. I know Wheatley can be tough on new recruits… but you’re still here, so that has to mean good news. Right?”
Joey scratched the back of his neck, recalling that time before he blacked out on the pen floor. “Yeah. Totally. I’m in one hundred percent.”
Its mouth went agape, wings bursting wide. “That’s wonderful to hear! Wonderful! Did you want to talk payment then? Or wait till after we go over your schedule?”
Joey waved those off. “That… that can wait. I mean, I wanted to ask you something. It’s very important. Very serious.”
The gleeful cheer on the harpy’s face became sullied, concern washing over its cute features. “ Very serious? What’s wrong, Joey?”
Joey put his hands together, controlling his breathing in order to work up the last bit of courage he needed to continue. When he felt he was ready, he opened his palms, and himself, up to the monster.
“Do you have a dick or a pussy between your legs?”
Time stopped. There was no clock, no moving object in the room. The harpy, with its big round eyes, had become frozen. For all Joey knew, time had stopped. All he could use to determine that the sun was still travelling in the sky was his own beating heart.
It took several seconds for the harpy to blink, and then again. What he’d asked had blinded sided it harder than he’d wished it to have. Eventually, though, a response came. It retained that stanch tone, that imperious air, but it all waivered slightly.
“What organs I possess is of no concern to you.” It said sharply.
“It’s just…” Joey kept on, hoping this wouldn’t end in his termination. “It’s kind of hard to keep thinking of you as ‘it’ or ‘Boss’. Pronouns are very convenient, I just don’t know what to give y—“
“Think of me as Boss. That’s all I am to you.” The corners of its mouth spread into a very forced smile, its eyes closed in mock friendliness. “Now if you’re done being curious, I’d like to get to the point.”
“Fine with me.” Joey said, tired of the monster’s fakeness.
//// AND THEN THE HARPY CLAWS JOEY TO DETH. HE BLEDS TO DETH, AND WORLD EXPLODES.
THE END. ////

<Project Cancelled>
- 5
- 6
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Breeding Season: The Making of a Kingpin