Chapter 1 - sentenced

Ever since the plague, failing to marry and reproduce had become a punishable offense for fertile women. At 22 Hannah knew she was pushing the envelope, but had desperately wanted to finish college before having her first child. Somehow she thought that she would be able to escape notice, as some girls seemed to, not realizing the bribes and favors these women had had to pay to remain single and childless.

The had come for her in her dorm room, early in the morning, cuffing her hands behind her back and taking her to the waiting squad-car. She struggled and protested, but her slender body was no match for the two burly men, and her pleas to be allowed to dress were ignored as she was bundled into the back seat still wearing her flannel pajamas.

Her hearing was prompt and brief - she was brought before the judge, surly, and still cuffed and held by the two men. She felt a sudden sting, and jumped in fright as a nurse pricked her finger, drawing a drop of blood and pressing it to a plastic swab, which turned blue. The nurse shook her head, then stepped back, and the judge banged his gavel, declaring "Hannah Gosling, I find you to be 22 years old, childless, and neither pregnant nor married. You are guilty under section 638 of the penal code, and I hereby sentence you to be taken from this place and administered corrective treatment, then offered for auction as required by law. Dismissed."

"No! Wait!" Sophie shouted, but a firm hand was placed over her mouth and she was pulled to the door by her two guards. She felt another pinprick, this time in her arm, and then her head swam and she collapsed, unconscious, into the arms of one of her guards.


She awakes slowly, her head sore and her vision blurry, gradually becoming aware of the fact that her body feels sore and uncomfortable, her posture unnatural. Her arms are held up, her hands level with her head, and when she tries to move them she realizes they are held tight by metal bands to some kind of frame behind her. She tries to look around, but realizes her neck is held by a similarly unyielding metal collar, her whole upper body held upright by these bonds. To her surprise and shock she is naked, her pajamas missing. She tries to look down, somehow not remembering her collar until she feels it dig into her tender neck.

She can feel that she is in a kneeling position astride something wide and rounded, like a horse-riding saddle, her thighs forced wide, and her ankles held tight behind her. Neither her knees nor her ankles are touching the ground, forcing her weight to be bourn by her buttocks and crotch. To her horror she realizes that her vagina is impaled on something, her pussy stretched uncomfortably by an object that feels like a large dildo. She cries out for help, beginning to sob in fear and discomfort as she tries to see the room through her blurred vision.

"Oh hallo Hannah!" a kindly sounding woman's voice says from behind her. "Let me just finish prepping here and I'll be right with you!"

"Help! Where? Where am I?" Hannah manages, trying helplessly to twist her neck in the tight restraint.

"You've been sentenced My Dear, you're at the Corrective Treatment Facility - I'm Sophie, I'm your nurse and technician. I'll be treating you today."

"But! But I - please! Help me! You have to help me - they didn't let me speak and explain!"

"My Dear, it says in your notes that you're 22, not married, and not pregnant. That means you're guilty as charged! Now, don't you worry about a thing. I've just got one more sensor probe to place and then we'll be done. Now don't worry, you may feel a little pinch, but it's ok." Hannah screams, arching her back as much as she can as Sophie inserts a needle into her back. It feels like it pierces her vertebrae at the top of her spine just before her neck, but in a moment the pain is gone.

"There, all done, that's the last one. Now your sensor probes are fitted the computer can track your sensations, and feed stimulus directly to your brain stem. As we get you into a mentally suggestible state the computer will begin to reprogram your neural connections, and when we're done you'll be all fixed!"

"But please! No! I don't understand, please stop, I'll do anything! Please help me!"

Sophie comes around to the front of Hannah's frame for the first time, and admires her work. Hannah's naked body is securely held by the restraints, her body kneeling upright on the stimulator unit, her arms held up helplessly by her wrist cuffs. "You have cute little breasts, Hannah." Sophie comments as she double checks each of the restraints. "And when I shaved your pussy I couldn't help noticing how perfect it is!"

"You did what?!" Hannah cries out in anger and indignation, trying to get up from the saddle, but only succeeding in rocking her pinned hips sightly.

"Oh My Dear, don't fuss, I had to shave your pussy, it's standard procedure - and besides, it makes everything feel that much better!" Unable to see her crotch, Hannah nonetheless is suddenly aware of a tingling, slightly itching sensation in her pubic area. She flushes in humiliation at her helplessness to even protest this violation. She has never even considered shaving her pubic hair, always thinking of the practice as degrading. The idea of it being done to her while she was unconscious makes her sick with panic.

Her objections are cut off as she realizes her vision has begun to clear, and for the first time she gets a clear look at Sophie as she stands in front of her, hands on hips, admiring her work. Hannah gasps in surprise - the woman is nude, but the first thing that Hannah notices is that she is very pregnant - her belly stretched tight in a rounded bulge. Her large breasts hang pendulously down her chest, not sagging, but full and heavy, the areolae large and dark, her nipples the size and shape of thimbles.

Sophie looks puzzled, then recognizes Hannah's gaze, and cradles her belly with her hands. "Don't I look great? I've still got another month to go!" She says. "This is my seventh - look, you can see the stretch-marks!" Hannah is unable to look away as Sophie points, and stares disbelieving at the deep red lines that stripe the woman's taught belly. She looks at Sophie, taking her in for the first time. The woman is short, maybe 5 feet tall, with blond hair tied back in a pony tail, her friendly face rounded and plump. While she is not fat, she has wide hips, her thighs have distinct saddle bags. She is carrying a significant amount of pregnancy weight, the lines of her body softened by deposits of fatty tissue.

"Seven?" Hannah asks, disbelieving, her eyes drawn against her will to Sophie's neatly trimmed triangle of blond pubic hair, framing her full and broad vulva. Hannah cannot help but imagine the agony of giving birth seven times as her eyes fixate on the dark line running down Sophie's belly, though her stretched belly button to the slit of her vagina.

"Oh yes Dear! I was sentenced just like you. I didn't want to contribute to the Republic, I can't really remember why to be honest, but I was fixed, and now I'm much happier!"

"W-what - what is my sentence?" Asks Hannah nervously.

"Oh My Dear - didn't they tell you? OK, let me talk you through it, then we really must begin. You've been sentenced to Attitude Correction Therapy, which will change how you feel about breeding, and then to be sold at slave auction to the highest bidder for a period of three successful pregnancies, at which point you will be eligible to apply for your freedom."

"What? No!" Shouts Hannah. "Three? No! I can't! I'm not ready - no - I can't be sold into slavery for not being pregnant at 22! There's no way I can bear to be forced to have three children!"

"Oh Hannah, of course you can - you know the law, the Republic needs babies! It's selfish to hold out, you'll realize that soon! Honestly, you'll be much happier - when I'm done with you all you'll want to do is rut and make babies! So - let's get you going shall we? First of all we're going to stimulate you a little, and let the computer get a feel for your pleasure responses, then we'll begin to reprogram you in earnest. Don't worry, it won't hurt! You know, I was given your exact same sentence, and when it came time to apply for my freedom I decided not to do it - my life is so wonderful here, getting ***ed all the time and kept pregnant - it's everything I want! Now - be quiet for a minute, I don't want to have to gag you!"

Sophie disappears out of sight behind Hannah's frame once more, and before she can begin to imagine what is going to happen or ask more questions she feels a pulse of vibration deep in her pussy as the dildo mounted inside her begins to quiver. "Oh!" She shouts. "Oh no! No please!" Sophie does not respond, and instead stays focussed on the screen behind Hannah as the computer translates Hannah's neural responses to a series of charts and numbers.

"You're a sensitive one Hannah!" Sophie chirps. "This is going to be fun! Tell me My Dear, when did you last orgasm? It looks like you have a lot of pent up frustration in there!"

"No - please, please stop it! I-I don't want to! Please!" Hannah squirms desperately in the saddle, her neck and wrist restraints tightly holding her upper torso and arms, but her hips free to buck and thrash. Her cuffed ankles hold her thighs tight to the saddle sides, but she quickly realizes the consequences of her struggle as she feels the cramping pain of stretching herself against the rigid and generous dildo. The discomfort is instant, and her body ceases its thrashing as quickly as it began even as the girl squeals with surprise and shock, gasping for breath.