Breeder ~ A Kylo Ren Fanfiction

4

When I woke in the morning, there was a throbbing in my arm. My instinctual first thought was that I'd been bitten by a swamp beetle in my sleep. I sat up in bed, readying myself to call out to Greyson for some medicine and bandages when my head connected with the ceiling.

I touched my forehead, bewildered, and peered over the edge of my bed to see a six-foot drop to the metal floor.

Everything hit me like a tidal wave: Greyson and the boys were back on Maslot, that pain on my bicep was from fertility drugs, and I was in the Breeder Baraks, a few hours away from my first session with Kylo Ren.

Stupid, unwanted tears sprung from my eyes. They flowed one after the other like droplets out of a leaky tap. I pulled my hair, punched my leg, screamed at myself in my head, but the tears wouldn't stop. You cry when your mother dies; you cry when a hurricane destroys your home; you do not cry at the opportunity to serve your Supreme Leader. I would live in a safer, more comfortable way than I ever had on my home planet. And my service guaranteed my family would have all the portions they could eat. There was so much to be grateful for.

I tried to go back to bed, but sleep would not come. I was so awake, it was hard to imagine I would ever sleep again. The tears didn't stop. All I could do was smother them with my in my pillow, the fabric getting wetter and wetter beneath my cheeks. My chest hurt when I breathed and it a conscious effort not to scream.  More than anything, I wanted to start my day and forget this horrible morning, but we weren't allowed to get out of bed before the alarm.

And since there were no windows to show even a sliver of morning light with which I could gauge the time, the high pitched buzzer sounding at eight in the morning shocked me nearly out of my skin.

Following the alarm, the bright, white lights snapped on, and there was a click that let us know the door was now unlocked. All fifty of us climbed out of our beds after making them as best we could (it was especially difficult for the top bunkers) and got ready as quickly as possible. While I rinsed off under one of the spigots- the water rough and cold- I wondered if being an early riser was one of the requirements for the genetic selection of Breeders. But that would be ridiculous; that wasn't a trait that was passed from parent to child. I woke with the sun and my mother never did anything before midday.

We all brushed and parted our hair, which was uniformly shorn to just below shoulder length (that was what the First Order deemed ideal for females) and put on our black, smock-like dresses with no undergarments and filed out of our bunker through the single steel door one at a time. We lined up against the wall in alphabetical order to wait for our escorts. There was one girl before me alphabetically. Her name was Anika. She had blonde hair and blue eyes. Her eyebrows were so light, they disappeared into her pale skin. Even her eyelashes were practically invisible.

"Hi," I whispered to her. "I'm Astrid."

"I know." She didn't even turn her head to face me.

"And you're Anika."

"I know that too." 

Before I could say anything else, the stormtroopers were here to take us to our sessions. Mine walked behind me, and I kept expecting to feel a blaster at my back. Whenever someone from my village was taken away for being a Republic sympathizer, that's how they were escorted into custody, the muzzle of the weapon in the middle of their spine, prodding them onto the First Order's ship.

"Don't you think it's excessive to have a stormtrooper walk a Breeder from one place to the next?" I asked, hoping my voice sounded respectful and pious. "Couldn't a sentry droid do it, or maybe a BB unit? Just because I'm sure you have more important duties to attend to."

"This is my training," he said, through his mask. "We're all assigned to a Breeder or some other menial task to prepare for actual missions." He stopped, and I stopped with him. "We're here. Go in and wait, Ren will be there shortly."

I did as I was told and laid down on the metal slab, which was about as horribly uncomfortable as you'd imagine. Not that I was surprised; keeping us Breeders happy seemed to be low on the priority list of the First Order. Maybe they kept the women who were pregnant in better conditions.

Unlike General Hux, Kylo Ren didn't value punctuality. He hadn't even shown up yesterday to meet me. The thought that he might not come to this session crossed my mind, and I was instantly ashamed. Not just of my desire to not assist the Order, but in my own stupidity; it didn't matter if it was today or tomorrow or next week or months from now, I'd be pregnant with Ren's child, and delaying would help no one.

Finally, he entered. I could hear his footsteps but didn't dare crane my neck to get a look at his face. There was the sound of something hard clattering onto the table, possibly a weapon, and then he was approaching me. "Astrid."

He didn't say it like it was a question, but I answered anyway. "Yes, that's me."

"I know."

What was with people here saying that?

"Lift up your dress."

The stupidest thought crossed my head, and I almost laughed. I pictured myself saying, 'Well, if you're going to impregnate me, the least you could do is say 'please'!' Of course I didn't, I'd be severely punished, he might even kill me in his rage (men around here all seemed like that type). I just did as he said and lifted my skirt up above my waist.

"You need to be closer to the edge."

He grabbed me by the calves, right under the knee, and dragged me across the slab, the sensation metal rubbing against my bare skin was akin to a mild burn, and I had to clench my teeth to keep from hissing in pain.

"Pull your legs to your chest."

I did what I was told, and, for the first time, felt incredibly embarrassed. He was a total stranger seeing all of me, and telling me what to do in the most indelicate way imaginable.

I could hear him removing his gloves (they were thick like animal hide, I'd felt them on my legs) and then undoing his belt and pants. He was taking so long I thought I might vomit. Wouldn't that be a sight?

"You're legs need to be farther apart," he growled before violently pushing down on my thighs hard enough that I felt a strain in my groin muscle. I put a hand on it instinctually and he swatted it away. "Don't touch."

"Sorry," I whispered.

He didn't respond to that, just inserted himself all at once and with no warning. Not that I was expecting one, I guess, but it was almost painful it was so shocking. I didn't think sex would ever hurt me again, not after two kids and four years of marriage, but it did. Not terribly, but the metal bed and aggressive partner weren't helping. It took him about five minutes to finish, and he did it without sound or ceremony. If it weren't for the sensation of fluid inside me and him stepping away and redoing his belt, I might not have even noticed.

"Do you know what to do?" he asked.

"Count to one hundred."

"One thousand!" he shouted.

"Sorry, that's what I meant." My voice trembled from fear and I braced myself for whatever he was going to do next. But he just walked out.

As I lay there, counting in my head, I realized I didn't even know what he looked like.