Copyright February 2006 by the pseudonym ‘Alex Streuth’
Streuthanasia@gmail.com
Disclaimer: This story contains
explicit pornographic material. If you
are not a legal adult you may not read it.
The following story has content that involves the following: M/f, pettification,
objectification, body modification, coerced, reluctant, forced, bimbofication, oral, f/f, huge tits, huge lips, drool and
some mess
Blossoms
Preface-- Garden Grove’s Mission
“Wait, wait, say that again,”
Dr. Herbert Spencer, M. D., was confused.
Alex had just told him that he would not need his help in
“My dear friend,” Alex began,
“please, calm down, let me explain. That
was a poor choice of words. Let me start
again, from the beginning.”
Spencer gave him an impatient
look but then calmed and sat down in the chair opposite. The two friends were in an ad-hoc ‘
Alex templed
his fingers, pushing them together and taking a breath, he then relaxed and
began:
“Herbert, this is going to be
a different sort of operation, er, place. By operation I mean this whole thing,
“We get girls in, we want to
train them, teach them, think of this sort of like a school, a training center,
a place to raise these young girls up so that they can meet the standards you
and I, and our friends, have for them.”
“You never mentioned this
before,” Spencer said, slightly accusingly.
“My dear friend I invite you
to visit the whole facility, there are no secrets here, at least, being kept
from you anyway.” Alex gave him a conspiratory wink.
“What’s wrong with Cherish?”
Spencer asked.
“Nothing,” Alex slapped his
knee, “nothing my friend, that’s just it.
Nothing is being replaced, this is like an
extra factory in a large business. I
know it is new and strange but it is just part one of an eventual expansion.”
“You mean there’s more?”
“Don’t get ahead,” Alex
chided, “no, there’s not more, there will be, but for now the main focus of our
resources is here, on this place,
“But doesn’t that mean you’ll
need my help?” Spencer was still confused.
“Yes, of course,” Alex was
trying not to rush, he wanted to be as politic as he could, he didn’t mean to offend
his friend, this was really simple (in Alex’s opinion) but he saw here the
potential for affront if he didn’t go slowly.
“I will always need your help my friend, you are simply the best surgeon
I know, you do wonders that I could never begin to comprehend. You are indispensable in everything we do,
and don’t get me wrong, you are very much a part of
“Well what
then Alex?
What is the explanation for saying to me that
I am not going to be of any use here?” Spencer was getting angry again.
“I didn’t say that Herbert,”
Alex gave him a blank look, “And if it was implied I am sorry, listen:” Alex
waited a moment to get Spencer’s attention.
“Here in
“Well, do you mean just do
the ‘arrival’ work on, like just tagging and prep, or do you mean actual work
on, as in filling orders?”
“That’s fine, you can count
girls you just tag and prep.”
“Well, on a good day, if I
don’t have a series 3 with complications I would say probably about roughly a
dozen, on a good day.” Alex waited for
Spencer to finish; he looked like he was contemplating adding something: “Ok, on a bad day maybe only, if there’s a
more involved patient, I only get to about three.”
“Ok, so three to a dozen, a
dozen being a high range, but we’ll say what, an average of six a day?”
Herbert nodded, “Something
like that.”
“My friend, listen to this,
your time is entirely too valuable to use your numerous talents on individual
cases here at
“Ahhh,”
Herbert was beginning to see the light.
“I am going to be raising
these girls here, in vast quantities, in heaps upon heaps, well, maybe not
heaps, but in far larger quantities than in Cherish. In Cherish the emphasis is on individual
orders for customers who can afford to pay a lot. What we are doing here is not serving a
client base, but rather, working on gearing up for creating a renewable source
of supply to feed communities like Cherish.”
Alex took a sip of his tea.
“Ok, run that by me again.”
Spencer was a little overwhelmed by Alex’s concepts, it all sounded fine but he
wanted some specifics.
“Ok, listen: Cherish might be a fluke, sure, but what if
there are others that spring up, or exist already, I am talking about supplying
them. Hey, it might not happen, there
might not be enough demand, but what is important is
the process and the cost per unit, per woman.
What I’m saying, is that, from a time/energy perspective we want to
spend considerably less per woman here than we do in Cherish, at Spencer Labs.”
Herbert was nodding, he was getting the idea now.
“And face it, kidnapping,
sure it works and all, but, it’s a little crude.
Its also risky, and it
increases the need for personnel in the form of retrieval teams. Also, those guys, as they get older, will
want to retire, maybe join Cherish, or what-have-you, so it increases the risk
of exposure. What we need is to tighten
up the operation, so, what I’ve done here, in
“So, what you’re saying is .
. .” Spencer began.
“We’re going to corner the
market on fresh female flesh.” Alex
smiled.
“So,
“Yup, that’s right Spence,
you and I are going to be more administrators here than sculptors. Now, one thing that means is less body
modification per unit: Actually,
optimally, none. Time spent in surgery
is your time, and we want to limit the usage of either of our time.”
“Ok, so, even if I much
prefer getting my hands on a woman in surgery, I can see how this place is ‘in
addition to’ the work I do at Cherish.
We’re not relocating so much as expanding our operation.”
Alex finished his toast in
one large bite. He crunched on it, “Exwacthly,” he said, between bites.
--
The following week Alex
finished his ‘test run’ of the Grove facility.
He brought in three of his own personal stock from Cherish as well as a
client’s order, ‘Gloria’, to be used as test subjects [See the story entitled ‘
Now, since all four of those
test subjects had responded perfectly to the trial sample of the ‘Renew’
formula Spencer had put together, more permanent facilities had been
established and the girls had been taken back so that the processing of ‘real’
raw recruits could begin:
Today the ‘growing’ at the
Grove would be started in earnest, with new arrivals coming in just in time for
their first lessons in the newly fashioned classrooms. Alex had arranged the ‘classrooms’ (really
modified stalls) for new arrivals. There
were more classrooms waiting empty for those arrivals to graduate to the second
tier in the education process. After two
weeks they would move to the third tier and then be ready for graduation.
This first ‘crop’ coming in
was being put in the beginner’s classroom now.
Chapter 1—New Arrivals
“Over here we have new
arrivals.” Alex was giving a tour of the
completed facilities to Spencer. Things
were up and operational now and Alex was brining more tenders in to handle the
day-to-day operations. He was now
supervising three teams of ‘Gardeners.’
--
Room 1: ‘Pruning’
Alex and a Spencer watched
through one-way glass as they walked along a hallway that ran along the
rooms. Each room was a part of the
‘assembly line’ approach Alex was taking with the mass manufacturing project
that was
“The new arrivals have to be
pruned first, and prepared for soil.”
Spencer watched through the window as the girl struggled with the staff
member in charge of Pruning. The man had
her by her waist and he was tying her arms behind her back. After securing her he brought out an eye
dropper. He placed the dropper next to
the girl’s eye and, despite her squirming, squeezed a few drops of ‘Renew’ into
each of them. The ‘gardener’ went back
over to the supplies and got out a short length of string and a pair of
gardening shears.
He waited until the girl had
settled down a bit, watching her eyes for dilation until she was totally
drugged. “‘Renew’ is a drug out of
Spencer Labs that slows down thinking and speeds up saliva production and libido,”
Alex explained to the staffer.
When she was good and dumb,
when drool started to spill out of her mouth, the gardener seized her long
flowing hair in his hand and twisting it tautly in his grip. A moment later he put the string around it
and tied the bundle of dark hair tightly.
He maneuvered the shears in
his other hand, holding the string’s end in his teeth, until he had the bundle
steady and his hands still. Focusing for
a moment the shears snipped and the majority of her hair fell to the floor.
Next he took out a pair of
scissors and began trimming the remaining growth. After pruning it back to an acceptable length
for a new recruit (some shocks of hair remained but mostly it had been all
removed except for what a razor would be needed for) he freed her from her
bondage and then helped her stand.
She was able to follow his
lead as he led her to the next room and stood her up against a wall. She was then left to stand, dumbly, in this
small closet-like space. The gardener
went back to the table, closing the door behind him, and brushed the hair
off. He went to the opposite side of the
room, to the door marked ‘IN’ and put his handling gloves on:
He gritted his teeth and then
opened the door, having to subdue a frenetic and scrambling young woman who had
been poised on the other side in anticipation of attacking him.
-
She was naked and scared, and
he was practiced, ready, and strong; within moments he had wrested her to the
table where he strapped her down and then slipped the tough leather gloves off
so that he could pick-up the ‘Renew’ and a stopper.
He positioned the stopper
next to her eye and then squeezed a few drops into it. A moment later he repeated this process in
her other eye. He waited for her to
settle down before going over to the wall and getting some water . . . Every few hours he took a break.
--
Room 2: ‘Dressing.’
The two supervisors, Alex and
Spencer, walked along the hallway, watching the girls under the expert
ministrations of the processing team of gardeners. This was the first team to handle the girls
once they arrived, they would prepare the girls for the classroom.
In the small closet space the
newly pruned girl had been placed in several bodies were squirming. It was dark with the door closed. Some of the girls were still ‘Renewed’ and
simply stood, dumbly, while others had started to overcome the initial dose and
were clamoring, slightly drugged. There
were about a half dozen girls cramped into the small space.
A few moments later the door
opened and the least drugged of the girls, the one who had been in there the
longest, stumbled towards the light. She
felt relieved to be out of the space. A
moment later she was grabbed by the tender of that room and the door was closed
upon the second girl to start moving towards the exit.
“Normally there won’t be this
many girls waiting in the closet space here, but we’re still training the staff
and some are more adept at their assigned jobs then others. Still, the space can accommodate up to a dozen
bodies and, in an emergency, we have an ‘eyewash’
shower installed above that will rain ‘Renew’ down on them.
Its strictly an
emergency sort of thing though, and we’re not counting on it 100%, since it’s
not guaranteed to be effective, but its there just in case.”
Spencer nodded after Streuth finished talking.
He was watching the scene in the second room.
The gardener had grabbed the
stumbling girl and thrust her into a chair.
The first thing he had done was grab an
eye-dropper and Renew her. Next he
grabbed a slight amount of special clothing for her to wear. Great pains were taken to make this whole
process as cost effective as possible and thus the material of the clothing was
a threadbare bio-degradable plant material, almost vine-like in composition.
The gardener tied her hands
behind her back and then wrapped some of the vine around her neck to fashion a
collar which he looped down around her to slip between her legs. He pulled the cord tight between her netherlips, checking for chafing, before tying it off to
the armbinds.
He could now tug on the slight measure of slack in the vine running down
her front, between her breasts it ran, from her neck down to her twat, and he
could pull her along after him. Being
recently Renewed she should respond to the slightly painful pull on her pussy
and walk forward to alleviate it.
He tested it, pulling lightly
on the viney-string.
She took a step forward after him, he pulled
harder to test the give and the knots and then led her across the room to the
next closet storage area. He went back
over to the corded material, measured and cut the next lengths needed and then
went over to open the door.
The next girl stumbled out
into his arms. He grabbed her and then
shut the door on the next one trying to get out. He brought the new girl over to the middle of
the room and prepared to dress her as well.
Room 3: ‘Planting’
“Now that they’re dressed and
groomed they’re ready for class. The
‘Renew’ works wonderfully but it is temporary and not as reliable as good old-fashioned
behavioral training. What we do is we
put the girls in the classrooms and then subject them to repeated lessons until
they start to forget who they were. We
have to secure them first because we can’t actually teach them when they’re
under the effects of ‘Renew,’ they get too dumb, or at least, it would take
forever to teach them if we had them drugged while we did it, and, heh, they tend to try to run away if we don’t’ secure them
first before lessons.”
Spencer smirked. He was glad to see his new pharma was being put to good use.
-
The girls in the second
storage closet, who had just been recently dressed, and who were still sporting
the ragged hair from the first room, were also slowly coming out from under the
effects of the Renew.
The third gardener, the
planter, didn’t need to open a door, the girls could
simply wander forward, bound, when they started to come out of the effects of
the drug. They were still fine-tuning
just how diluted of a formula to use during this initial processing, and thus
were erring on the side of caution.
Results were what was important now, speed
could be improved upon after several successful ‘harvests.’
As a girl came out of the
‘Renew’ haze, she noticed that it was dark.
The third room was kept intentially
dim, to better adjust the girl’s eyes to the
classrooms. As she walked forward hesistantly the gardener grasped her cord and pulled her
after him. She followed, somewhat
nervously. As they continued their walk,
down, down, down a long passage, into an underground room, the girl began to
get her wits about her somewhat.
As had happened before, and
the gardener was waiting for it, the girl balked at about the third sequence of
rooms they had passed. It had been
easier before, as the classrooms had been empty and could be filled
earlier. Now that the first ones had
filled up they had to walk farther to get to the yet vacant ones. Still, the timing could be worked on, and
this gardener had a dropper on him in case the girl caused too much
trouble. It wasn’t that he couldn’t
coerce her, it was simply more efficient to either
ignore her or drug her.
In the end he opted to drag her the last couple of feet.
He would not do this often, for he did not want to tax himself, but he
helped her along to her classroom:
They were underground now,
the air was damp, the earth was soft. This area had been dug out the week before
and the ‘classrooms’ installed only a few days later. The environment was not cool, not warm, but
consistent, with no wind or influxes of air to change it. Since the environment favored organic
material, Streuth had opted not to install metal,
since it would rust and corrode.
The air would be kept clean
by a favorable ratio of Co2 converting underground plants which had been
arranged every few feet to keep oxygen in the air. Some meters did monitor the oxygen and, if
needed, tanks were on standby in case the air became too stale.
The classroom itself was a
mound of packed earth, arranged to accommodate the girl. A second gardener stood nearby to aid in the
task of planting her, and he maintained a vigil on the girls in this room as
well. He was a teacher as well, and once
this room was fully planted he would begin his lessons.
The teacher was rather eager,
as this was his first class, and the room had already received a few occupants.
The now terrified girl did
everything she could to resist the two men as they positioned her body in the
space. She was, in a sense, being
selectively buried alive. She was guided
into the hollow space in the packed earthen walls, so that they hugged her
loosely. The loose space would be filled
with loose dirt, once her head was positioned properly.
The two men began sealing her
in, oblivious to her now clear voice as it pleaded and yelled. The first gardener, the one who had to haul
the girls up this way, took a break to wipe his brow and then rest before
heading back to get the next one. He
would fill up a few more rooms and then take his break so that the next man
could relieve him.
The teacher made sure the
girl was loosely packed, he didn’t want to cut off her
circulation, before standing back and observing. She struggled, and managed to loosen her
right arm. He nodded and leaned in to
pack that area better. He had shoved a
wadded cloth into her mouth to quiet her until he was ready to hook her up to
her curriculum.
“Okay,” he said to
himself. He watched, seeing her eyes
staring pleadingly up at him. She
struggled some more but was unable to loosen herself. He nodded again, she was ready this
time. Packed but loose she would be
stuck there but would be able to wiggle a bit to avoid damage to her body’s
skin or muscles from prolonged cramps.
“Alright,
now to get you hooked up to lesson 1.”
The teacher opened up his satchel
and pulled out a helmet-like contraption.
It was still new and had that ‘just manufactured’ smell as he admired
its contours and then brought it forward to check it for sizing. It was made of black rubber and meant to go
over her head. It would not cover her
head completely, but rather left her eyes, nose, and mouth free, as well as
leaving the top of her head free. The
rubber would hug the sides of her head, like an extended turtleneck almost.
Fastening the helmet onto the
girl’s head the teacher stood back afterwards and admired the view. She now looked like a potted plant, except
for the obvious exception of her eyes, which stared soulfully back at him, and
her nose and mouth. He admired her for a
few moments though, looking back down the tunnel to see if the other man was
coming back anytime soon. He was on
schedule though, since it was such a long walk.
He knew it was wrong but he
reached forward and shoved his fingers up to the girl’s nose, cutting off her
breath. She tried sucking air in around
the wadded cloth in her mouth but only managed to get it in spurts. The teacher giggled and then put his other
hand up to her mouth, cupping it, and only letting air in after a few moments. The girl’s eyes bugged open in strain.
Chapter 1—Re-Education
Alex knocked on the one-way
glass and it startled the teacher, who obviously hadn’t expected to have
someone watching through the glass.
Streuth pushed a ‘talk’ button down and then spoke into the
room, chiding the man for his infraction.
The teacher looked embarrassed, and released the girl. The teacher turned towards the wall and made
an apologetic bow in Spencer and Streuth’s direction.
“Once we get the tenders
thinking that we are watching them all the time,” Alex mused, “then we can leave
them unsupervised more often.” Spencer
nodded. “But it’s important that they
don’t take liberties, as it interferes with the education the girl’s are
receiving. The main impetus here is
their isolation, the fact that they are alone and helpless. We need them to feel dependent on the men
without the men interacting with them much.
If the men start to play games with them, like this one here just did,
it fosters an unnecessary relationship and actually damages the value of the
girl. If we are going to take her to
market later we will get the most value from a blank but attentive mind.” Spencer nodded again.
“Alex…” Spencer began, “This
is all well and good, but, can’t we get around all this just by keeping them on
‘Renew’ all of the time?”
“Yes Herbert,” Alex had a
twinkle in his eye as he responded, he had been prepared for this question, “of
course we could, but the results would not be the same. First off, the people we are going to sell
our harvests to will want permanent training, not temporary solutions…” Alex stopped for a second, realizing
something else for the first time, “But we could sell them some that are
untrained, for less maybe, and then we could sell them the drug repeatedly for
a greater profit…” He stopped to ponder
that idea. “No,” he reasoned, “if they
get the drug they could synthesize their own, and, heh,
there’s no way we could enforce a patent.”
Spencer chuckled. “No my friend, I don’t think the US
Government would back us up in that regard.”
The two turned back to the
newly ‘planted’ girl.
-
“Ok,” Alex explained, “what
he’s doing now is hooking up the curriculum to the helmet’s,
the potter’s, ports. Her eyes are
accessible through the
potter, as is her nose, and her mouth. We put reward stimuli on the end of the
goggles he is hooking up now, an image of the girl herself imposed on a safe
and comforting environment: The picture
shows her sitting in front of a fire, fully dressed, opening
a present.”
Spencer nodded.
“Now the goggles don’t show the
picture, but with the right stimuli the image is revealed, through an electric
pulse: Like those opaque mirrors that
you run electricity through and they go transparent.”
Spencer nodded.
“Ok, so we put the first
curriculum in her mouth, a feeding tube molded on a man’s penis,” Streuth grinned a bit as he said this, since both he and
Spencer knew that it was molded from Alex’s penis, now initially all that she
has to do to earn her reward, a moment’s look at the image, is to lick the
tube, which, coincidentally, will also give her a few drops of the sweet
nutrient supplement inside.” Alex handed
Spencer a small tube, about the size of a tube of toothpaste, as a sample.
Spencer squirted some of the
liquid paste out onto his hand and sniffed it.
“It has 100%
vitamins/minerals, with about 1500 calories per tube. We mix it with water and fill the
phallus. You will note that the feeding
tube she has is much larger than that sample tube you have there, and the
overlarge testicles serve as reservoirs.”
Spencer licked the paste a
bit, and noted that it had a pleasant, if slightly nutty, taste to it.
“Ok so she starts to lick
from the feeder, she is rewarded, and she is kept fed. Now, if she does not lick, then the
apparatus, which he is attaching to her nose right now, will trigger her
punishment. After five minutes if the
feeder does not register a lick the girl’s air supply is cut off for thirty
seconds. This continues but if she holds
out for longer then the punishment kicks in sooner, with increasing frequency
until eventually she is only allowed air for five seconds every thirty seconds
or until she licks.”
Spencer made an appreciative
expression with a sort of half-frown in response to this explanation.
“Now obviously this is the
crudest form of the education, and, as I said, it is curriculum one. She stays on it for two days after which time
she graduates to curriculum two.”
Spencer watched the girl, who
had been finished with and who now sat alone in silence. The cloth gag had been replaced by the
feeding ‘harness,’ the phallic rubber feeder was positioned very close to her
mouth, but not actually in it. A clear
plastic ‘holder-pipe’ secured it to her mouth, so that she could choose not to
lick it if she wanted. She could easily
see what the feeder resembled because of the plastic’s transparency. Additionally, any sounds that she made would
be muted by the plastic holder.
She stared at the gross
feeder in front of her, unsure of what was expected of her, but with a dawning
apprehension for her situation. She
could see down, to the feeder, but not in front of her, as the ‘reward’ image
was opaque at the moment. She could not
see up as her view in that direction was covered by black rubber, as was her
peripheral vision. All that she could do
was look straight, at the grey block ‘image’ in front
of her, and down towards her feeder.
She waited in silence for an
eternity. After what seemed like forever
she heard muted sounds of a scuffle and then the light vibrations of dirt being
moved near her. She looked down and to
the sides, at the small patches of dirt floor that she could see off to the
sides of the feeder: She saw nothing.
Then, minutes later she saw a
man wearing work boots walking back to the right. She breathed and waited, waited and
breathed. Her breath was cut off for a
long while but then she was able to gasp air again. In actuality it had only been thirty seconds
of lack but she had not been ready for it and had had no breathe to hold.
Awhile later, before her second
gasp, a man walked past, he was wearing work boots, the same man, walking in
the other direction, and he was dragging a barefoot girl behind him. She was trying to drag her feet on the floor
as he marched her past. A few moments
later she heard another scuffle, this one further away,
and then very gentle vibrations.
She was starting to measure
time by these lacks of air, and she was losing track of time at the same
time. She was scared that she was going
to die. Surely this was some form of
torture, this slow dragging out. She was
worried they meant to suffocate her over a long period of time. She started taking larger breathes when she
could, gulping in air and hoarding it, trying to guess when the next choke
might come.
After her head started to
feel dizzy and her air supply felt so tight she noticed that (due to the
pressure difference in the ‘suit’ now) the feeder was starting to bead a small
bit of its food. She shuddered in
disgust at the sight of it, it looked exactly like
pre-cum oozing out of a cock. As she
watched the bead grew into a drip, then a fat drip, and, in her headiness,
looking at the liquid, fixated on it, convinced that here she was, choking to
death, she acted on perverse impulse, exercising the only form of control available
to her at that moment:
She reached her tongue out in
sheer perverse curiosity and impulse and licked the head. Immediately she felt the sweet taste on her
tongue, felt cool, fresh air rushing in to meet her, and saw a comforting image
of herself, snug and safe in a warm place unwrapping a
present flash in front of her eyes.
Then it was gone, half a
second later. She thought she imagined
it. She looked down, the bead of ‘milk’
was gone, actually it had tasted sort of like cream, but, she wasn’t sure. Still, it had been good, she must not have
imagined it if she could still remember how it had tasted . . .
It had tasted good, she
thought, and she was thirsty… What could
it hurt? As long as she knew that no one
could see her, she scanned the ground beside her . . . No one would know, and hey, they were going
to kill her anyway, right? She might as
well try to enjoy herself in the meantime . . .
She reached her tongue out and licked the feeder:
She was rewarded again, and
she smiled a bit in response. This
wasn’t so bad, I mean, once she let herself go and
resigned herself to her fate . . . She
closed her eyes and breathed a bit, relaxing herself. A few moment’s later she panicked and
screamed, screaming with all her might, wriggling inside her earthen prison as
well as she could . . .
She struggled and panted for
five full minutes, wearing herself out in the process, until the air choke
began again. She panicked and tried to
gulp but was so nervous she was going crazy with the exertion. She held her breathe until her cheeks bulged
but then relaxed a bit as the air came back.
She sighed, it was no use. She
was stuck here… She figured she might as
well try again though… She wacked her head back and forth, side to side, trying to
free herself, and then crying. It was no
use, she was stuck here.
She cried and then started to
laugh, suddenly giddy, she couldn’t breathe but she didn’t care, if she was
going to die she was going to die…
And then she became calm,
still... If she was going to die then
that’s all there was to it, there was no more worry left, no more fear. She reached her tongue down and licked it
again, feeling the sweet taste, seeing the comforting image, breathing the
refreshing air.
Then, after a moment of
smugness, she decided to lick it as fast as she could, see if she could keep
that image in front of her, escape through her mind.
-
As the teacher came by the
girl at the station he had planted only twenty minutes earlier he noted on his
clipboard the number of licks made so far, the number of punishments
administered, and then, pleasantly surprised, reached into his satchel and
replaced the left testicle-cannister on the feeder—it
had already been drained: He marked an
‘A’ in the grading column.
-
Epilogue
“Good, very good,” Alex was
going over the numbers. “We’ve got a
steady stream of new bodies, and revenue is up, but, what would really help is
if we were able to lower the cost of recruitment.”
He and Spencer thought about
it for a few moments. “The way I see it,”
Spencer said, taking his glasses off, “we keep taking plants in, putting them
in the soil, and then they get sold almost right away, we aren’t left with
anything.”
“But there’s profit,” Alex
argued.
“Yes,” Spencer said, “but it
would be much easier if we could grow the plants here, that way we save on the
cost of bringing them…”
“More profit!” Alex concluded.
“Exactly,” Spencer put his
glasses back on. The two of them started
thinking bigger, more of a vertical systems integration, handling product
manufacture as well as growth.
“We’ll need more classrooms,”
Alex said, “to accommodate younger students, nurseries really, and nurses!”
“We’ll need a team of
watchers, monitors, caretakers, who can observe without direct contact.”
“And this will take time my
friend, this won’t be as quick, and will require some investment.”
“But imagine the benefits,”
Spencer was saying now, “women without preconceptions,
we will be able to continue pure research, without the hassles of environment.”
Alex mused, “Well, yes,
female studies will benefit from raw recruits.
Okay, let’s do it.”
Later that month the nursery
wing would open.
---
By Alex Streuth
Notes:
This story precedes and leads
into the ‘Growing up in
--
Standard Closing:
This is fantasy, this should not
be enacted, the ideas and action expressed herein are for fantasy
enjoyment. None of these ideas or
actions belongs outside of the realm of fantasy: A lot of what happens in these stories is
violent (it might not be ‘hot’ violence, like striking someone, but reducing a
person physically/mentally is a form of ‘cold’ violence) and violence in any
form is wrong. What makes these stories
so elegant is that thinking about violence is okay, and, in fact, limiting a person’s
right to think would be, again, ‘cold’ violence.
In other words, ‘Don’t try
this at home.’
--
Bibliography:
IE, influences, people who get credit:
Gord, Benson, Thundershrk, TheMayorofCherish,
but mostly Benson. Visit www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Alex_Streuth/www (but
only if you’re over 18, which, if you’re not, don’t read the above story!) for
the rest of my work.
--
You may e-mail Streuthanasia@gmail.com if you have
praise, or requests, or are a writer or illustrator. Everyone else can also e-mail me, but it not to be encouraged. You may use my ideas and/or characters in
your own fanfiction.
[A credit and/or a linkback would be nice to
have though.]