Bradley considered himself a feminist ally. He believed absolutely that women deserved equal rights, equal pay, respect, equity and safety. He attended marches and protests and spoke vocally on behalf of the women of the world.
But as time went on, he became more obsessed with a single, inescapable fact: feminists didn’t breed.
Oh, certainly there were many feminists who had children. But they were far less likely to have children than women who accepted traditional female roles, and when they did have children they would often have only one or two, as opposed to the prodigious litters produced by their submissive conservative peers.
Ultimately, advancing feminist causes was a matter of numbers. Even if literally every woman were a feminist, they would still be only half the population. They needed as many children as possible raised by feminist mothers. They simply couldn’t afford to let anti-feminist women outbreed them.
And so Bradley eventually came to accept the inescapable truth that *someone* had to look at the big picture, and in the interests of advancing the feminist cause, he was going to have to do some theoretically un-feminist things.
He started by stalking prominent feminists on the internet – authors, columnists, celebrities, lecturers and academics. He had far more than an average level of tech literacy, and he’d engaged in some recreational hacking in his youth (largely for the purpose of harmless pranks), and with patience and persistence he was able to hack the accounts and devices of a large number of his targets, and secretly and invisibly stroll through their emails, their chat histories, their browser histories, and the contents of their phones.
He was looking for women who had something they were ashamed of – nude photos that they weren’t ready to share with the world, embarrassing kinks, or maybe even crimes such as academic fraud or embezzlement or worse.
Then he would send these feminists a simple letter, hinting at what he knew about them. He would arrange a meeting, and at that meeting he would tell them to make excuses with their friends and family that would allow them to vanish from public life for around six weeks – an overseas holiday, or a study retreat, or suchlike.
Then he would usher them into his van, where he would bind them and gag them, and he would take them to his “breeding pen”.
In truth it was little more than a basement, where the woman would be confined for the next month. Their birth control would be taken away from them. Every day she would take drugs designed to promote her fertility, and twice a day Bradley would rape her and cum in her unprotected womb. Bradley would mostly keep the women gagged, because they were often persuasive, and he didn’t want them trying to talk him out of what he knew he had to do.
It was hard enough bringing him to rape these women and violate their bodies, and it was embarrassing that it made his cock so hard to see them naked and helpless before them – and harder still when they cried and struggled. He viewed the pleasure he received from orgasming into their non-consenting fuckholes as an appropriate reward for the sacrifice he was making to impregnate them, but he always reminded himself that this was a duty, and he was doing it for the women’s own good, and for the good of feminism as a whole.
He told them that they were, of course, going to keep the babies – carry them to term and then raise them. That was the whole point – and if they didn’t comply with his plan, the world would see their dirty secrets – along with select edits of the footage he had filmed of their rape in his “breeding pen”.
But their cooperation wouldn’t stop at the birth of only one child. Bradley expected them to get reimpregnated as soon as safely possible after birth. If they wanted to be free of his control, they needed to produce one baby a year, every year, for the next decade, until they were raising ten young feminists for the cause. He didn’t care how the women got re-impregnated – but he was keen to make sure they had the skills to do so.
To that end, he didn’t limit his violation of them to just vaginal intercourse. He would fit them with a ring gag, and fuck their mouths, or push his cock into their anus and ass-fuck them. He would make them dance for him, jiggling their tits as he masturbated. He would briefly remove their gag altogether and tell them to beg for rape – slapping and regagging them if they said anything other than sincere-sounding pleas for violation. He would fit them with nipple clamps and clitoris clamps and make them masturbate through their pain.
They would be able to perform any sexual act that a potential father of their child might require of them. And, of course, when they got home they would edit their wardrobe – and for the next ten years they would never wear anything unless it made them look not just fuckable, but positive rapeable.
Bradley wasn’t overly discerning with who he abducted in this way – any feminist with enough secrets to compel her compliance was acceptable – but he had the most pleasure when he found an actress or celebrity with something to hide. Not only did these women tend to be very attractive, and particularly pleasant to rape – but they were also rich, and Bradley was usually able to get them to transfer sums of money to him during their abduction that sometimes went as high as multiple millions of dollars.
There was nothing better for Bradley than seeing some hot young actress express a feminist opinion in a public interview, because soon he would be trawling through her accounts, looking for something whose publication would scare her enough to allow Bradley to rape her, and train her, and impregnate her, and drain her bank accounts. The world would wonder why an up-and-coming star had decided to destroy her career by becoming a full-time breeder, and only Bradley would know.
And the money *was* important – because Bradley had realised there was only so much that one man could do. He could only impregnate a certain number of women per year, and even if they went on to produce another nine children each, the scale of the problem was so much bigger than that.
And so Bradley used the money to found Allies Incorporated – a not-for-profit feminist advocacy organisation. Publicly, it advanced the cause of women’s rights and equality – and privately, Bradley used it to hire young men with similar skills to his own, and set them to work finding their own feminist targets to blackmail, abduct and impregnate.
Bradley envisioned a world, coming very soon, where his foundation would be blackmailing and raping thousands of feminists every year, and converting them to compliant breeders, to create a surging new generation of feminists. He wondered, when this new feminist generation won their battles, whether they would ever be grateful to the man who had made it possible by raping their mothers.
He didn’t know. But ultimately, it didn’t matter.
He didn’t do it for the reward.
He did it for the good of women everywhere.
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“And so Bradley used the money to found” edit ‘fund’.
Good wicked yarn.
Thank you! Not actually an error – he’s founding the organisation, i.e. creating it, in the manner of a foundation. But I appreciate the compliment and the intent to catch mistakes.