Part 1

Entry 1 – The Day I was Sold

It started like any other day. I woke up early, took a long shower and then dressed in my favorite yellow sundress which hugged me tightly around my big belly and boobs. It also highlighted the fact that my butt was quite flat, but I didn’t mind. I slipped on my sandals and went to breakfast with my family. Little did I know it would be one of the last days I would ever share meals with them. A few hours later, two men came to our house and asked for me by name. After introductions were made, they told us why they were here: They had come to buy me from my family.

My heart raced as I realized what was happening. My parents stood mutely beside me, not saying a single word. I looked at my mom imploringly, hoping she could stop this somehow. But all she did was look back at me sadly and shake her head. That’s when I knew that this was really happening; there was no way to escape it. The men swiftly loaded me onto the back of their truck and drove off down the road. We drove for what felt like forever until we reached an old farm. This is where my life would change forever. We arrived and the men ushered me into a large barn that smelled strongly of manure and hay. There were dozens of women milling about inside - some young, some old. Most of them were completely naked.

As soon as I stepped foot in the barn, the man in charge, who I assumed was the farmer, immediately barked orders at me. He told me to strip off my clothes and stand before him so he could inspect me. I was mortified, but I had no choice but to obey his commands. I slowly removed each piece of clothing, revealing my chubby body. Despite my embarrassment, I couldn’t help but feel proud of my long blonde hair and bright blue eyes. I looked down to see my large breasts and round belly jiggle slightly as I moved. Even though my butt was small, my feet were still quite large, and my toes were long and fat. I locked eyes with the farmer and waited for his verdict. To my surprise, he seemed pleased with what he saw. With a satisfied nod, he gestured towards a group of girls standing nearby.

“These are your sisters now,” he said gruffly. “You will do as I command and you will treat your new family with respect. Do you understand?”

I nodded silently, feeling more scared than I ever had before. One of the older girls, whom I quickly learned was named Emily, stepped forward to greet me. She smiled kindly, obviously sensing my fear. She led me further into the barn and began to explain the rules of the farm. Everyone here was expected to remain nude at all times, except for the occasional trip outside for fresh air. All the girls were divided into two groups - the heifers and the mothers. The heifers were those who hadn’t yet been impregnated, while the mothers were those who had already produced offspring. Emily took me on a tour of the various buildings, pointing out the Mother Barn, the Milking Barn, and even the Slaughterhouse. Everywhere I looked, there were distressed animals and exhausted-looking women.

Everywhere I heard cries of pain or despair. It was clear what was going on here. These places weren’t intended to bring life into the world; they were designed solely to produce children, milk, and meat. As we finished the tour and returned to the main barn, Emily gave me one more warning.

“This isn’t a happy place Abby,” she said gravely. “But if you remember one thing, remember this: no matter how bad things get, never forget who you are. You still have value and worth, even here.” It’d been a long day and I was emotionally and physically exhausted. I lay down in the straw and tried to forget my sad reality. I may have been owned by someone else, but I still had control over my own body and my own spirit. No matter what happened from here on out, I vowed to remember that.

Entry 2 - My first Breeding

It’s been two weeks since I arrived at the farm, and already things have changed drastically. The heifer barn is a lot more crowded now - it seems like new girls arrive almost daily. We’re all rounded up in the morning to check for signs of pregnancy and then separated into two groups: those who are pregnant and those who aren’t yet. I haven’t been successfully bred yet, so I’m still with the heifers. But I know that this could change any day now.

My days usually start by being ushered into the breeding room. It’s small and dark with only one window in the corner allowing light to stream in. There’s no furniture except for a few chairs, and the walls are bare. All around me are other girls, some lying on the floor, others standing against the wall. Most of them are completely naked, their bodies exposed and vulnerable. I can’t help but stare; each girl has her own unique features and shapes, from full breasts to wide hips and small waists. Some of them even have tattoos or piercings.

Then the farmer steps into the room. He looks us all over, his eyes lingering on each body as if we were cattle. Eventually he points at one of the girls and tells her to follow him. I watch as she nervous follows him out of the room, my stomach clenching with worry. I know what will become of her. The hours pass slowly until finally he returns. Today he stood in the center of the room and looks around again before pointing at me. Instinctively, I shrank back, desperately wanting to run away. But then I remembered Emily’s words: no matter how bad things get, never forget who you are. You still have value and worth, even here. I took a deep breath and stood up, following him out of the room without looking back. We walk through several hallways until we reached a door marked “breeding room.” Here, there were two beds side by side. On one of them was a young boy, obviously the son of the farmer. He looked up at me nervously, but didn’t say anything. I lay down on the bed next to him, feeling both scared and excited. This is it. This was my first breeding experience. I don’t remember much of what happened afterwards. I just remember feeling overwhelmed and tired when it was all over. When I awoquickly put my clothes back on and returned to the heifer barn, vowing never to forget what had happened today.

Entry 3 - The Preg Check

It’s been a month since I was bred. Fortunately, I wasn’t chosen again until two weeks ago. I still dread each morning when we are rounded up and taken to the preg check room. This is where the farmer and his sons determine if any of us have gotten pregnant from our last breeding session. We line up single-file in front of the preg check table, completely naked and afraid. Slowly, the men move down the line, examining each girl carefully and asking questions about how often she has bled or felt sick. Today when it was my turn, I could feel their eyes on me as they inspected every inch of my body. They seemed satisfied with what they saw and don’t ask many questions; thankfully, they did’t find out that I am pregnant just yet. After everyone was checked, the men left and we were allowed to leave. We quickly dispersed and went back to our usual tasks for the day. I’m grateful that I didn’t get caught this time, but I know it won’t be long before I show enough signs to be discovered.

As the days pass by, I can’t help but feel nervous and scared all the time. I constantly worry that I will be found out, and then my life here at the farm will really change. I try to focus on the small pleasures of life instead: talking to the other girls, going outside for fresh air, even playing with the farm animals a bit. It reminds me that despite everything, I still have worth and value. It was this morning that I realized it’s been way too long since my last period. I know what this means: I’m pregnant! My heart raced as I frantically ran around looking for Emily. She took one look at me and knew immediately what has happened.

She put her arms around me and whispers in my ear, “Don’t be scared Abby, you’re strong and brave. Everything will be alright.”

At least for now, I believe her.

Entry 4 - I’m Pregnant

Today was the first time in two weeks being preg checked. As usual, we were all rounded up and taken to the preg check room. This time, however, I felt extra nervous because I knew I was going to be discovered. Sure enough, when it was my turn, the farmer’s eyes lit up with excitement. He proudly announced my news to everyone in the room and then sent me away. Now I find myself in a new barn - the Mother Barn. Here are housed all the girls who have produced offspring for the farm. We spend our days doing chores, preparing meals, and taking care of our babies. At night, some of us are still chosen for breeding, but mostly we are just expected to keep things running smoothly.

Each morning, I get up early and take a quick walk around the farm. I do this both for exercise and for my own mental health. Everywhere I look, I am reminded of how unfair and cruel this place is, yet also strangely beautiful. The sun rises each day regardless of what happens here; life continues on despite our struggles and pain. I know now that I will live out the rest of my days here on this farm - caring for my baby, being milked, being bred whenever I am needed. It isn’t an ideal situation, but I realize that at least I have value and worth here. I can still choose to make the best of any given moment, even if I am living in complete servitude. That’s why I try to remember Emily’s words: no matter how bad things get, never forget who you are. You still have value and worth, even here.

Entry 5 - Life in the Mother Barn

I’m still not showing, but I feel my body changing. I’m growing bigger and rounder, my breasts fuller, my belly protruding. I’m sure it won’t be long before everyone who sees me knows that I am pregnant. Life in the mother barn has become a routine. We wake up early and care for our babies, then some chores, followed by milking. This is not how I imagined life as a young girl, but I have learned to accept this new reality. I have also begun to form relationships with other women here. There is something comforting about knowing that you are not alone in this struggle. Most of the girls here are already mothers, some more experienced than others.

There’s a girl here name Kelsie that’s become like a big sister to me. She’s on her third pregnancy. She’s still young and vibrant, yet world weary. She quietly gives advice to those of us that are new here. There are lots of babies, but no children. I asked Kelsie what happens to the babies after they are weaned. She told me that once the babies are old enough, they are taken away to another part of the farm where they are raised and prepared for sale. No one knows what happens after that.

I find it hard to come to terms with this life, but I know that I must remain strong if I am to survive. I’m determined not to become like so many other women here - broken and empty shells of their former selves. I want to remember who I am despite my circumstances; no matter how bad things get, never forget who you are. You still have value and worth, even here.

Entry 6 - My First Milking

Today was my first day milking on the farm. I had been dreading it since I arrived here, but now that it is finally here, I must find a way to make peace with it. As we headed towards the milking barn, I clung tightly to Kelsie’s arm for strength and reassurance. We took our place alongside the other women and girls, standing ready to be milked. I could feel my heart racing as one by one, each of us was called up to the stall.

When it was finally my turn, I walk slowly and reluctantly forward, my eyes downcast. The farmer stood before me and commented on how full my breasts appear. He reached out to touch them, but I recoiled in fear. He looked at me sternly and told me not to be afraid; this is what I am here for. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath as he guided me over to the milking machine. He showed me how it works, demonstrating on another woman before me. When it was finally my turn, I felt strangely calm; this wasn’t so bad after all. After a few minutes, milking became relaxing and I was no longer scared. As time passed, I begin to enjoy the process of milking. The warmth radiating from my breasts, the steady rhythm of the machine, the soft hum of the pump - these things quickly became familiar and comforting. Here, in this place, I can almost forget who I am and why I’m here.