Assistant
Professor John Bresnahan was in his first year teaching at Wellesley
College. It was a good position, and he felt lucky to have landed it.
He had had qualms about teaching at an all-girls school, but the
Wellesley students were very sharp, even more interesting than he had
expected. It made teaching so much more rewarding. It was fifteen
minutes into the class of his first-year seminar on introductory
psychology.
"So what other examples do we have of the self-serving bias?" he asked.
"People think other people think about them a lot more than they actually do."
"Good, what else?"
"Everyone thinks they're above average."
"Right. What else?"
No one jumped in.
"Anyone?"
There were no hands up. A couple of the girls had troubled expressions on their faces; one rubbed her forehead.
"Jenny? ... Rachel?"
Later
John remembered that he had heard some shrieks and shouts outside his
classroom, but at the moment his attention was on his own class.
"Hello! Is anyone here?"
There was no answer.
"We need an ambulance!" came a shout from the corridor. It was Frank Rozin, a fellow instructor.
"What's wrong?" asked John, walking briskly out into the hallway.
"Two of my students collapsed in class."
"None of mine collapsed, but they don't answer questions any more."
"Um, yeah, the other girls are all silent."
The
911 dispatcher did not answer. They ran into one other male professor
in the corridors, and among them they discovered an extremely
disturbing situation: The women faculty members and a few of the older
students had all collapsed and were unconscious. The younger students
were not exactly catatonic, but they were unnaturally calm and
unresponsive. None of them spoke or answered questions.
As the tweets and news headlines came in, the horrifying picture became clearer.
What
became known as the Calamity occurred at 1:41 on a beautiful October
afternoon. 'Calamity' was not really a strong enough word to capture
the full horror of what happened. All the grown women in the world
died. The cutoff was around age 20. Only a handful over the age of 22
survived, and only a handful under the age of 18 died. The women
experienced a monstrous pain in their heads and within a minute they
were dead.
The girls who survived became severely retarded,
losing among other things the ability to speak or understand and losing
their initiative. It took time for the exact nature of their deficits
to become apparent.
Men and older boys had to deal with the
carnage. They had to think of every place where women had been the only
adults present and rescue the children or elderly or sick men in their
care. They had millions of dead women's bodies to deal with.
Later,
many men reflected that what surprised them most was that they had to
cook dinner. In the midst of the chaos food was not on the top of
anyone's mind, but the men and children got hungry soon enough. And
there were no women to prepare the food. So the men had to. After a
day, they discovered that the sink was fully of dirty dishes. Clothes
hampers filled rapidly. Never before had they realized just how much
work women did.
Nursing mothers above the age of 20 died along
with all the other women, and emergency formula was needed for infants.
Men discovered the joys of changing diapers -- not just once, to give
their wives a break, but over and over again, several times a day.
Everyone
mourned the loss of the beloved women in their lives, but young boys
were naturally devastated by the deaths of their mothers. The young
girls were upset at being hungry, but became content once they had
enough to eat. As long as someone was meeting their needs, they didn't
seem to miss their mothers. In fact, studies soon revealed that they
didn't have any memory to speak of, and couldn't really tell people
apart.
John's wife Rhonda had died in front of her third grade
class. His 16-year-old daughter Amy was eventually brought home from
high school, dull but content.
That
the Wellesley students were no longer capable of college-level work was
an understatement. Wellesley had dorms full of girls who were incapable
of taking care of themselves. The vast majority of people who had seen
to their needs were women, now dead of course. So in the first few
days, John spent his days at Wellesley, managing to help prepare simple
meals from the food reserves in the dining hall storerooms. Male
professors and staff without children stayed over in the dorms to take
care of the girls around the clock. But within a couple days the girls
had mostly been shipped home to their fathers. John was out of a job.
The
fathers of the girls in Amy's class at her school were soon in touch
with each other. There was no point in taking their girls to school,
but the girls needed someone to look after them. They acted pretty much
like docile lumps, and in the chaos of the first few days, that was a
godsend. They managed to go to the bathroom themselves, and when food
and drink were put in front of them, they ate and drank their fill.
Otherwise they mostly just sat.
After a couple days of dropping
Amy at other fathers' houses, they were due at John's the next day. It
was his turn to care for them. Because he no longer had any other job,
he had suggested he look after all the girls for the indefinite future.
Getting the right men matched to the right jobs would take time, but in
the chaos of the early days, any solution was better than none. John
was out of a job and there was a bunch of girls who needed caring for,
so he took care of them.
That evening he ran around getting his house in some semblance of order.
John
realized he hadn't even gotten Amy out of her clothes at night since
the Calamity, as there was so much other vital work that needed doing.
Now
he couldn't escape the fact that Amy stank. He might have noticed a
little odor from her that morning, but that wasn't on the top of
anyone's priority list. But now it was unmistakable and needed
attention.
He had had nothing to do with her clothing or
personal care for years, but now there was no one else to do it. "Let's
get your clothes off," he said to her in her room. She didn't respond
to his verbal request. When he tugged her tan dress up in preparation
for pulling it up over her head she didn't understand his plan well
enough to lift her arms -- which she could have easily done at age two
if not earlier. But when he held her arms up in the air she kept them
there long enough for him to get the dress up and over. Was that the
way it was supposed to come off, or was she supposed to step out of it?
He realized he didn't know. At least his way worked.
There was his daughter in bra and panties. "Take your underwear off?" he asked.
But
she just looked at him pleasantly. He unfastened her bra. Unfastening a
bra was something he had never done except in a sexual context, and he
felt a little shame that his penis started swelling in his pants. He
found himself taking surreptitious peeks at her lovely young breasts,
which he had never seen before, of course. At some level he knew he
might just as well stare -- she wouldn't know the difference -- but he
tried not to. He then tugged down her panties, and the source of the
worst smell became apparent. She hadn't been wiping herself, or else
not doing a good job of it. Why hadn't the other fathers checked? Well,
on a second's thought it was understandable. He was glad they hadn't
been pawing around his daughter's private parts, at least not without
asking. And there hadn't been time to ask.
His sexual arousal
was dampened momentarily by her dirty panties. But dirty or not, his
naked, sexually mature daughter was standing looking at him pleasantly.
"Um, you need a shower, Amy."
He didn't expect a reply, but somehow still felt the need to talk to her.
He
sighed. Leading her to the bathroom, he turned on the shower and
adjusted the temperature, then pulled back the shower curtain and
helped her in.
"Mmmmm," she said as the warm water hit her.
"OK, can you wash yourself?"
No reply.
He
took off his own shirt and tossed it aside so he wouldn't get too wet
as he reached in, then took the washcloth and soaped it up, handing it
to her.
"Here," he said.
She looked at it and looked at him with a blank expression, but didn't do anything.
His heart sank as the severity of his daughter's limitations hit home in another way.
"Here," he said, and taking her hand with the washcloth he rubbed up and down her belly. "Now you do it."
When he let go, she rubbed up and down on the same spot idly for a few seconds, then stopped.
What
to do? He could strip and join her in the shower, but his cock was
already hard and he had the feeling it would get harder if he did that.
No, it was time for his daughter to regress to "bath time."
He flipped the lever to send the water down into the tub and closed the bath drain.
"Sit down, honey," he said. "No, wait..." He ought to get her crotch cleaned a little before he drew the bath.
So
as she stood, he nudged her legs apart a little, and reached up between
her legs with the washcloth. This kind of intimate care is what nurses
and nurses' aides must do all the time, he reflected, but he had never
had such a job. He thought better of the washcloth and just used his
bare hand to rinse the worst of the dried crud from around her anus and
outer vulva. He then rinsed his hand and opened the drain long enough
to let that water go. Then he shut the drain again and drew her bath.
His
daughter's mind might be gone, but her body was still vibrant and
healthy. As he cleaned it, he tried to connect it to the 5-year-old's
body he had washed so many years before. She was fully grown now, of
course, and had developed sexually. Breasts, curves, pubic hair -- it
was all there. She wasn't sexy to him, not really, but she was still
sexy.
Her breasts needed cleaning, and it was pretty
straightforward: just soap and rinse all the skin. She seemed to thrust
her chest out a little when he gently washed her nipples. Cleaning her
pubic hair and the outer parts of her vulva was easy enough, but what
should he do about the inside? He and Rhonda had never bathed together,
but he had bathed with one college girlfriend. She had been happy to
have him clean her vulva, and he remembered exactly what he had done.
He kind of doubted that everything had been necessary just for
cleanliness, but she certainly hadn't minded -- not at all.
"Legs
apart, Amy," he whispered. She didn't respond to the suggestion but let
him tug them apart. Part of him was astonished she wasn't screaming for
her privacy, but that concept was far beyond the new Amy. She needed to
be bathed, and there was no one else to do it. Abandoning the
washcloth, he used only his fingers for this delicate part of her.
Reaching into the water, he gently spread her outer lips with one hand
and started gently rubbing inside with the other. He felt around the
edges of her vaginal opening, rubbing gently to make sure there was no
foreign matter. When he peeked, he didn't see any hymen -- had his
daughter lost her virginity already? He guessed he'd never find out. He
was able to open her up farther with the one hand and reach in an inch.
He couldn't detect any foreign matter or skin irritation.
When
his fingers began their explorations within her outer lips, Amy moaned
softly, shutting her eyes. He gently slid his fingers up to her
clitoris, which he supposed needed cleaning too, maybe. He rubbed very,
very gently, the way Rhonda had liked. "Do you like that, Amy?" he
asked.
The girl didn't answer, but she sighed and smiled.
After a minute, he said, "OK, I guess you're very clean there," and reluctantly withdrew his hand.
Amy's eyes shot open and she gave a squawk of distress, so he slid it back between her legs and resumed his "cleaning."
As
he started rubbing again, Amy moaned again and smiled broadly -- the
strongest reaction he'd gotten out of her in the past few days. He had
things to do, however, so after a couple minutes he stopped despite her
protests.
As he patted her dry between the legs, he noted a pang of desire, which made him feel guilty.
When
he finally got to bed that night, he couldn't sleep. His cock rose as
he thought of his sexy daughter whose organs he had cleaned so
attentively. Where should his sexual energies be directed? Rhonda was
dead. There were no women in the world anywhere near his age. And for
some reason the immense tragedy of the Calamity didn't extinguish his
sex drive -- it made him horny. He had masturbated quickly and guiltily
two nights before.
Amy enjoyed the sexual stimulation he had
given her more than anything else since she lost her intelligence, and
didn't seem to mind in the least that her father was providing it --
indeed, she didn't know he was her father. And something about that
weakened his incest guilt.
He would like nothing better than to
sink his cock into that nubile girl's pussy. Would she mind? He was
almost certain she wouldn't mind it if he buried his head between her
legs and licked. What would she think of his cock? He hadn't seen any
hymen. It seemed pretty likely she wouldn't mind, and he could press in
bit by bit and stop if she showed distress. Not quite believing what he
was doing, he grabbed a pack of condoms from the bedside table and went
to his daughter's room.
Her face was beautiful as she slept. He
pulled off the covers and nudged her onto her back. She stirred but
kept sleeping. He reached under her nightgown and found the soft fabric
of her panties where her legs joined. As he gently stroked the humid
cloth, her legs spread apart a little. He worked his fingers inside the
elastic leg band and stroked a little more.
Amy stirred and
moaned, then woke up, looking down with a smile. Once again he
half-expected her to shriek and cry bloody murder at his advances, but
of course she didn't.
"Come on, honey, let's get these clothes
off," he said. First he removed his own pajamas and underpants, and was
excited when he saw Amy looking at his hard cock with interest. She
seemed to recognize it at some level.
She offered no resistance when he tugged her nightgown off and panties down, and of her own accord she lay back on the bed.
He
pulled her legs apart with his hands, and Amy didn't complain. Next he
dove between her legs and inhaled deeply of her aroma, then began
loving her with his tongue.
Amy sighed, moaned and squirmed. She
was more physically responsive than any other woman or girl he had been
with -- including her mother, even as a young woman. She gushed fluids.
The fundamental reason her body got so wet was to ease the passage of a
penis -- so why not?
Reluctantly he unrolled a condom onto his
organ -- he disliked condoms. He and Rhonda mostly had used the
diaphragm, but kept condoms for certain times when she found the
diaphragm irritating. He let himself down onto his beautiful daughter,
his twitching latex-sheathed organ pointing to its goal.
"Do you
mind?" he asked. She just looked at him and smiled. "Let me know if
anything hurts, OK?" he said. He didn't expect an answer, but felt he
had to ask. He was pretty sure she'd let him know in some fashion if it
hurt. Would she? Just to be sure, he pinched her forearm hard. She
yelped and drew it back.
"Sorry," he said, and Amy went back to looking at him with interest, the minor insult quickly forgotten.
He
had loved Rhonda's body even as it aged, but his daughter's fresh
16-year-old version of the female form was fantastic to see, feel and
smell.
The hot, wet embrace he felt as his tip first poked into
her vagina felt so incredibly right. There was no physical resistance
from her vagina and nothing but sighs of pleasure from Amy. Slowly he
pressed his stiff member inside, Amy's tissues yielding alluringly
before his advance. Her vagina gripped him tightly along his entire
shaft as he oozed his way further and further into the girl. She took
in his entire length, his inward progress stopped only when their pubic
bones bumped.
Then he began his in and out motion. Amy's sighs
escalated to groans of passion. They were intense and very erotic,
making him want to thrust faster and harder. Amy's excitement rose and
rose. He was sure she was about to come, only to find her moving up to
a plane of greater excitement. He was mad with frenzied passion, trying
to hold his orgasm back but realizing he would soon reach his limit.
Then
Amy's whole body seized up. Her vagina clenched him tighter than any
woman in his life, making his cock tip bulge and overloading him with
the pleasure of her raw, nubile feminine demand. The semen injection
she demanded would be thwarted by the condom, he realized with a touch
of disappointment -- but, no! Stressed by her incredibly tight grip,
the condom broke! The immediate wetness of her vaginal innards on his
overstretched glans trebled his physical pleasure, and then it
sharpened further from the psychological: he knew he was not going to
pull out, knew he would cream her inner vaginal tissues with sperm. Her
body would get what it wanted after all, and his would too. He might
even be fathering his second child -- and his first grandchild at the
same time! His body spat the first shot of semen deep into her cunt,
the second and third following quickly as his tip rammed in and out
frantically, pushing the shredded latex aside. He felt a sexual ecstasy
surpassing any he had experienced before.
Spent, he carefully withdrew and flopped down beside his daughter. Her chest was heaving and her face a mask of pure pleasure.
Given
his experience with Amy, John decided he should check on each girl
personally after she used the toilet to make sure she was wiping
herself properly. As he suspected, several of them obviously weren't.
Using toilet paper wasn't ideal, he decided, since he was afraid of
abrading the girls' tender parts. They would have known just how hard
to rub, but he didn't. He ran the tap to very warm and applied the warm
water with his hand, over and over until the girl was clean. He
discovered in this way that one girl was just starting her period, so
he was able to get one of Amy's pads in place before her underwear got
stained. As he inspected another girl, he realized that he was
detecting the faint but distinct odor of semen, which made him smile.
The
girls didn't mind being cleaned this way. In fact, most of them reacted
more positively than to anything else that day. One girl seemed to like
it so much he took some extra time getting her clitoris very clean and
she came, sitting right on the toilet, in under a minute.
Late
in the afternoon he discovered that the girl with the period had filled
her pad with blood. Time for a tampon, he guessed. He had heard that
girls sometimes struggled with tampons at first, unclear on the exact
position and angle. He wondered idly if in this one respect he knew
more than young girls did about their own bodies. He knew most
intimately the exact position and angle for inserting a tube into a
girl's vagina. It was both a little gross and a little erotic as he
nestled the applicator into her bloody vagina and pushed the plunger.
He'd have to remember to tell the girl's father so he'd be sure to
change it before she went to sleep.
Primed by his fantastic
experience with Amy, John found he was strongly attracted to the other
girls. They had all responded with noticeable pleasure when he was
cleaning them between the legs. He had a strong urge to do it to them.
If he had sex with a girl, she would love it and he would love it.
Still, he didn't dare to just do it without getting permission from her
father first.
"Hey,
Dale, you have a minute?" Dale had come to pick up his daughter
Veronica, and had just finished settling her in the car and fastening
her seat belt. He was going around to get in his side.
"I guess, what's up?"
"Um, yeah, this is such a tragedy, what we've been through."
"Yeah."
"I miss Rhonda."
"Yeah, I miss Sarah too," Dale said, without a great deal of emotion.
"But do you realize that there are no women older than 23 anywhere on this planet?"
Dale sighed. "I don't think I can quite get my mind around that."
"And
Amy -- I always assumed she'd grow up and marry a nice young man. But
have you heard about the girls that are dying in their sleep?"
"I heard a rumor."
"It's
definite, as of this morning. The older girls are dying -- one morning
they just don't wake up. It looks like we won't ever have women in the
world again, just older girls."
"Oh, shit."
"Yeah. So Amy's not going to grow up and get married. How am I going to have grandchildren? How is anyone?"
Dale held quite still and looked at John. "Good question. Assuming we still want grandchildren..."
"I know I do. Something about this makes me determined to keep society going."
He
couldn't seem to find an elegant way to get the conversation to flow
into the heart of his plan. He hoped he wasn't going to get an
indignant reaction. At least Dale was smiling a little.
"You know my daughter Amy? Do you think she's attractive?"
"Um, yeah, that's for sure."
"Well, how'd you like to try to make her pregnant?"
"Oh! Oh, man."
"And maybe you wouldn't mind if I, at least, you know, did it with Veronica?"
"A daughter swap."
"Yup."
"At
least Veronica's on the pill. But what's she going to think? She won't
really get it, will she? She won't be really understanding what's going
on? And Amy?"
"Well," John said. "I found this problem with the
girls not wiping themselves properly, so I've been making sure to wash
them down there after they go. And I've been doing some experiments.
They all like a little stimulation. I mean, I just experimented a
little bit, and only kept rubbing if they clearly liked it. And they
all did. And you know the girls don't really respond to people as
individuals, right? Does Veronica really know who you are?"
"No, I guess not." Dale's face was troubled, then brightened. "Deal! When? Like tomorrow?"
"OK, unless, maybe, right now would work."
"Oh! Hmmm."
"You can go first."
"You watch Veronica?" he said, looking at the car.
"So,
Amy, if Veronica's dad does anything you don't like, just tell him to
stop, OK?" John said. He knew she didn't understand, but it still felt
important to say it.
"You want me to do her without a condom, then?"
"Yeah, if you don't mind."
"No, that will not be a problem."
"Just make sure she's warmed up. I think she'll respond pretty quickly."
John
felt a slight twinge of guilt. But he was pretty sure that Amy would
not only not mind, she'd have a great time. And then there was Veronica.
As
he shut the door on them, he returned his attention to the remaining
girl whose father had not come to pick her up. He was late. He had a
brief exciting thought about a fanciful new rule. The penalty for late
pick-up would be implicit permission to have sex with the girl...
He
mostly hoped that he hadn't already impregnated his own daughter Amy
the night before -- though part of him desperately hoped he had. He and
Dale looked pretty similar, at least, so if he had it would be easy for
everyone to assume Dale was the father.
Within a couple minutes he could hear faint sounds of Amy's excitement coming from her bedroom, then she gave a lusty shout.
A couple minutes later, Dale emerged from Amy's room with a smile of profound satisfaction on his face.
"Whew!" he said.
"Satisfactory?" asked John.
Dale just smiled and shook his head.
"So, you mind if I take Veronica back to my room now?"
Dale's face darkened momentarily, then he said, "Sure, that was the deal."
It
had occurred to John to say he would take his pleasure with her the
next day, but he didn't want Dale changing his mind -- perhaps suddenly
making some new arrangement for Veronica's care.
Veronica warmed
up almost as quickly as Amy under John's caress. He made sure she was
getting good stimulation for a reasonable time and she gave clear signs
of pleasure, but she didn't seem close to coming. The excitement of her
hot, tight vagina, flesh on flesh, built quickly for John and he
reached ecstasy, gooping the innards of her pussy with his seed. After
he had recovered for a minute, he found he wanted to try to give her an
orgasm too, and began working her clitoris with his fingers. He watched
her happy, straining face with satisfaction. Soon she came with a
series of loud breaths, satisfied and seemingly delighted with the
entire experience.
And so began the father swaps. A few of the
dads didn't want anything to do with the new arrangement. The other
fathers relented when the reward was the chance to make love to another
hot teen girl, also realizing that their daughters had no
marriageability to protect and that they would have a good time. But
three didn't feel right about their daughters getting pregnant right
away, and so those girls went on the pill -- or like Veronica, stayed
on it. The fathers who did not consent to sex also put their girls on
the pill, realizing they were very vulnerable to the advances of any
male they came in contact with.
John realized guiltily that
being a "teacher" for high school girls in their present condition was
more rewarding, deep down, than being a professor at Wellesley. At
Wellesley, a top priority was not to make the girls uncomfortable in
any way on account of their sexuality. He realized he had put quite a
bit of energy into not being affected by the young coeds' fabulous
bodies. Now it was a different world, and he had tasted the pleasures
of sex with nubile teens. There was one girl from his freshman seminar
whose beauty haunted him. Her name was Jenny, and he couldn't get her
out of his mind. She lived locally, and he got her father on the phone.
"Hello, Mr. McCarthy?"
"Speaking."
"My name is John Bresnahan; I was your daughter Jenny's psychology teacher at Wellesley."
"Yes, hello, what can I do for you?"
"I'm
sorry for the change that's come over Jenny, and all the rest of them,
of course. I have a daughter of my own, 16 years old, so I have some
idea. You were married, too?"
"Divorced. I was delighted to hear that the evil hag had croaked."
"Your wife?"
"Ex-wife."
"Yes,
well, I guess there is a silver lining sometimes." John waited a moment
but Mr. McCarthy said nothing. "Anyway, I have to confess, I found
Jenny very attractive."
"You and everyone else."
"Oh."
"First I offered her for $100 a pop, but found I was flooded with requests."
"You
have her working as a prostitute?" he said, unable to keep some anger
out of his voice. Jenny had had such promise -- but then he had to
remind himself that the promise of her mind was all gone.
"Well, she's not going to be a lawyer any more. She enjoys it. Is your daughter still a dainty virgin?"
"Um, no, she does have some partners."
"I
started with $100, but now she's at $400 for a half hour and I think
I'm going to raise the price again. Her cunt starts to get sore when
she's doing it 20 times a day. Are you interested?"
"Um, not at that price, no."
"Well,
suit yourself. Or -- say, you said you've got a daughter too. Is she
cute? I might give you a special price if I could get a piece of yours."
"Nah, I don't think so. Best wishes."
He
didn't really want to be the 20th prick of the day on an assembly line
squirting into poor Jenny while her father gloated over the cash haul
his private "cunt" had earned him that day.
Fathers
of high school and college-age girls could barter their own daughters
for sex with the daughters of other men. But instincts die hard, and
one strong instinct fathers have is to protect their daughters'
virginity. Many fathers found it more important than having sex
themselves. When the time comes, a man wants to hand his daughter off
to another man as his one and only wife. A man who could land a teen
bride felt even more strongly the instinct not to share his girl.
Some
men gave up sex. For them, the fact that the girls didn't have the
mental capability to relate as equals spoiled the whole experience.
They got by with old-style porn, their own fantasies, or just forgot
about sex.
But for most men, the effect was the opposite. Many
of the older men who had been single before lacked the skills or
interest to actually develop a relationship in the old days -- that
takes hard work! They hadn't felt right about visiting prostitutes for
a variety of reasons. There was a stigma to it and some risk of getting
caught. For many it had been unappealing because it was fundamentally
an exploitative relationship. Prostitutes knew they were violating
their natures for economic reasons -- their nature, like that of almost
all women, being to settle down with a single man. Prostitutes usually
developed a hard, cynical persona. But in the new world, girls were
guileless. And while prostitutes spanned a range of ages, few of the
surviving girls were over 20.
The loss of mental capacity in
girls was a huge tragedy, but it enabled a lot of sex. The girls were
female animals of the human species who retained their interest in and
pleasure from the mating act. They didn't have the ability to form
relationships with men; they could scarcely tell them apart. In the old
days they would have even been deemed to lack the mental capacity to
consent to sex, but that model could not endure. It would have meant no
sex for any men, ever. More vitally, the girls couldn't even consent to
artificial insemination, so it would have meant the end of the species.
The
fulfillment of a girl's destiny was now sex. With no inhibitions, she
responded lustily to the mating act. Men were in turn free to focus on
the physical act rather than spending a lot of effort convincing their
partners they loved them, and they found the ability to emphasize their
animal natures liberating. Most of them missed the love between men and
women as equals, but that mourning didn't keep them from enjoying the
sex offered by this new world.
The downward pressure on the age
of consent was immediate and intense. The girls never got sufficiently
developed mentally to consent according to the old standards, and their
minds weren't noticeably less mature at younger ages. Physical
development became the sole criterion, meaning girls as young as ten or
eleven were content having their legs nudged apart regularly. Even if
their sexual desire had not fully bloomed, they showed some signs of
enjoyment.
In the old days, men were under constant pressure
from women to be monogamous. With no such pressure, men's sexual
interest was redoubled. Young men with the opportunity often sought out
three different girls a day.
Now, all these patterns were
latent, but they couldn't fully develop because a relatively small
group of men controlled sexual access to all of the girls. Enough men
were getting sex that the appeal of the new sexual arrangements was
known to all, but few could partake.
Gangs of horny men stormed
houses to have sex with the girl within. While the father might be
furious and indignant, the girl would enjoy herself as much as any
other girl. It was rape in the old sense, but not the new. The act
certainly didn't feel like rape.
Recriminations and hostility
raged between groups committed to "paternal rights" and "men's rights".
The cause of paternal rights was not served when it was discovered how
many girls were becoming pregnant by their own fathers.
Whatever
the moral arguments, the politics were clear: there weren't that many
principled fathers but there were lots of horny men. In a momentous
shift, all of the females in the United States became wards of the
state. They were allowed to stay in the custody of their fathers if the
fathers followed certain guidelines. A team of men visited each girl
monthly to check on her physical health and make sure she was being
cared for properly. When the team deemed her to be sexually mature, her
father had an obligation to make her available for sex.
The
initial formulation was straightforward. She was the source of the
right to four sexual encounters a day, and those were distributed
randomly to men in the geographic area who registered for the purpose.
The
inefficiencies in this system were immediately apparent. There was no
reason a man who liked plump girls needed to make do with a skinny one
while a plump one was fucked by a man with opposite preferences.
So
rights could be sold and traded, and a thriving online business soon
developed. Video of the girl was made available, along with feedback
rankings from men who had had sex with the girl before. A few men who
disapproved of the whole system just waived their rights entirely.
Others who weren't interested in sex sold their rights. Rich men who
didn't want their daughters to have sex could buy the encounters back;
the more attractive the girl, the richer a man would have to be to pull
this off. The lure of a virgin is strong, and buying back the right to
take virginity four times a day was exceedingly expensive. He could
claim she was not a virgin, but there were usage statistics. Even if
she might not be a virgin, a girl who had not undergone any encounters
within the system had some extra appeal in any case. But of course once
a girl no longer was a virgin, the father's motivation to protect her
became less. What did it matter whether a girl did it once a week or
four times a day? Especially when she clearly enjoyed it?
And if
other men were buying and selling their rights to have sex with his
daughter, why should a father be out of the loop? Why not create more
slots and sell them? Fathers were encouraged in this, as it helped meet
the men's thirst for more sex.
All sexual encounters within the
system were recorded on video, which was kept private unless the girl
showed any sort of trauma. In that case, the video could quickly lead
to the culprit. Nothing prevented a father or guardian from selling or
offering his girl outside of the system, but in such a case he was
responsible for any trauma that could not be tracked on videotape.
Once
the old norms were broken down, the stage was set for an enormous
amount of sex. The girls clearly enjoyed it more than anything else in
life, and many men made sure their partners had multiple orgasms, the
greatest happiness a girl could experience any more.
Then there
was the matter of pregnancy. The only way for the species to survive
was for teen girls to have at least two children, on average. Younger
girls were put on the pill so they didn't get pregnant until their
bodies were really ready.
The girls' fathers were given
considerable leeway in choosing who would impregnate their daughters.
They could track their daughters' cycles and were granted the exclusive
right to grant or withhold sex during a fertile period. They were
subject to severe criminal penalties if they impregnated their own
daughters or let a close relative do so, something that would be
apparent after genetic testing at birth. Many men chose breeding mates
for their daughters based on the usual sorts of criteria: men they
liked and respected. The baby would normally be given into the custody
of this biological father, so if they wanted to maintain contact with
their grandson or granddaughter they would have to coordinate with this
man. Other men sold exclusive access to the girl during a fertile
period, which could lead to lawsuits if she became pregnant by another
man during that period. Others transferred temporary custody to another
man for a price, so making sure he fathered the child was his
responsibility. Still others sold rights to many individual encounters
during a fertile period, giving each man a lottery-like chance to
become a father.
Selective abortion based on gender was an
immediate problem. A boy would be a full human being who could
participate in a meaningful father-son relationship. He would outlive
the father and could care for him in his old age. A daughter would be a
relatively unresponsive thing: cute and cuddly but not much more. When
she reached sexual maturity a father would preside over her prolific
sexual career and a few pregnancies -- then she would die. Everyone
knew girls were vital, but there was a strong tendency for men to want
someone else to actually raise the girls. As a result, abortion was
restricted to saving the life of the mother. Some argued that it should
be mandated in cases of incest, but although it was hotly debated that
policy was never adopted.
Amnio was routine, and as soon as it revealed a girl, many fathers sought someone else to raise their daughters.
Households
shifted their character radically. There were of course no heterosexual
couples. Gay men thanked their lucky stars that the Calamity had left
them alone with the ability to form deep love partnerships. Straight
men often ended up living in small groups, especially if they were
interested in having children. A small group could often accommodate a
girl or two along with some boys. The girls were at least easy
children, demanding little attention.
There was a natural
concern that girls would be adopted by pedophiles who would use them
for their own satisfaction rather than raising them properly. When the
standard inspections revealed genital trauma, a man could lose custody.
But a girl could put up with a lot of sexual activity without becoming
in the least bit upset. She didn't have the mental capability to suffer
from something as subtle as a man fondling her genitals gently. Studies
showed that men who engaged in gentle sexual activities with girls also
cuddled with the girls more, the girls smiled more overall and they
were in slightly better physical health.
A father was given
considerably latitude in choosing whom to impregnate his daughter, but
if she hadn't gotten pregnant by age 16, the state looked closely at
the procedures he was following.
Pregnant girls still were available for sexual access, though they fetched a reduced price as their bellies bulged.
If
there was one thing that girls enjoyed almost as much as sex, it was
nursing their infants. That was the extent of the child care they were
capable of, though. Men and boys were stuck with the burping and
bathing and the changing of every diaper.
Society soon decided
to wean boy babies by about six months of age. While this struck some
as cruel, it was easy to see that girls forgot within a day or two that
they had ever had a baby. It was best if baby boys didn't attach to
their mothers, something that begins around six months. The girls
couldn't really respond to them adequately once the boys were 18 months
old. Worse, a boy's mother was doomed to die before his 7th birthday,
often well before. Girls could nurse their girl babies as long as it
worked for mother and daughter, usually a year or so.
Despite
the best efforts of science, no explanation was ever found for the
sudden demise of the women, the inevitability of early female death and
the profound retardation. Nor was anything found that could help with
either girls' longevity or mental incapacity.
A couple years
after the Calamity, thinkers noted that men had been very quick to
assume that the girls would in fact all die when they reached age 20,
and that no cure would be found. Some suggested that men's jumping to
the conclusions they did and their readiness to engage in a great deal
of sex was a transformation to their brains brought on by the Calamity.
This effect was far more subtle but just as mysterious as what had so
catastrophically affected the females. Others disagreed, and felt it
was just a tendency in the male psyche that had been there all along,
brought out into the open by the unprecedented circumstances.
Brian
looked immediately at the girls' trailer when he got out of school and
was pleased to see just one boy in line in front of Lisa's door, so he
ran over to assure his place. Another boy who was closer got there
first, so he was third -- still not bad at all.
The trailer had
separate entrances to a tiny bedroom for each girl, much like the
trailers on old movie sets. The operators brought this trailer around
every day after school; after an hour the operator might drive it to a
school that got out later.
They brought a mix of regulars and
new girls. If a regular had her period they would bring a substitute
instead. But Brian did Lisa just about every day and knew her period
wouldn't come for a while.
The boy who was in with Lisa came out
shortly, and neither of the others took very long. He swiped his ID
card into the slot on his way in.
"Hi, Lisa," he said when he'd
shut the door behind him. There was no need to talk to girls, but a lot
of the boys liked to anyway. She was on her hands and knees in doggy
position, apparently the way the last boy had wanted her. She looked at
him over her shoulder and gave him her usual blank smile.
There
was endless video from before the Calamity had struck 17 years ago, and
a great deal of it was about women, and the relationships between men
and women -- something that occupied an enormous amount of attention up
to that point in history. He'd never seen a woman, of course. There was
footage of weird things like breasts sagging with age, something never
seen in the world any more. The older men decried the lack of interest
the younger generation showed in the old movies with love stories, but
it just didn't have any impact on their lives. It was like watching a
movie on the detailed operation of sailing ships. In the old days girls
got to decide who they had sex with, and they were very picky, so the
new world seemed better to Brian.
Girls were simple creatures.
In infancy they were just like their brothers, except you changed their
diapers a little differently. Then they were easy babies and cuddly
kids. Snuggling with young girls was fun, and men of all ages did it.
The girls never got tired of it and would do just what you wanted. Then
when they got sexually mature -- well, that was a different story.
A
man or boy could arrange for sex with girls who were guaranteed to be
pristine when they got there; an attendant would make sure they were
cleaned up and even douche out the previous guy's cum. But it cost
extra, and none of the girls came that way on a trailer like this. You
could also get a girl on the honor system, where you were expected to
clean her up for the next guy before you left. But Lisa was offered
"wet", the way Brian liked best.
The bed already had wet spots on it where Lisa had leaked out some of the earlier guys' cum, and she was kind of sweaty.
"Let's get you on your back," he said, nudging her into his favorite position.
Lisa
didn't know much, but she knew how to position herself for sex. He
admired her tight breasts and sloppy pussy as he stripped. His cock
pulsed to life, and she smiled at it. She knew what cocks did. He lay
on her and gave her a kiss, playing with her lips in his, then he
buried his nose in her hair and took a deep breath of that delicious
girl smell, good and strong now that she'd already done it several time
without being washed up. He tugged on her ear with his teeth, and she
giggled a little.
Then he descended to her breasts and caressed
each one with his hands before latching onto the nipple and sucking.
Lisa moaned with contentment and undulated her pelvis, bringing his
cock to peak hardness.
He sat back on his knees and moved his
hands to her pussy. She was already opened up, membranes engorged,
oozing sexual fluids. He found her clitoris and squeezed it gently
between his fingers in a rhythmic motion, just the way he had found she
liked best. She squeaked and thrust her hips.
It was time. He
launched himself onto her and relished how good it felt as his cock
slid into her all the way. He felt an extra little shudder of pleasure
when he had pushed as deep as he could and only their pubic bones kept
him from a deeper penetration. Then he lowered himself onto her so her
breasts swished against his chest and her face was inches in front of
his.
She wrapped her arms around his back in a gentle squeeze,
and her heels came up behind him. That was one of the reasons he liked
Lisa best. She instinctively hugged with arms and heels, and it felt
very cozy. She was also pretty. You could get a decent girl who just
lay there for a quarter the price he was paying, but to him Lisa was
worth it. It was also worth it to watch the pleasure on her face. When
he thrust into her energetically, she gasped and sighed, and when he
stopped, she stopped. It was the movement of his cock back and forth in
her cunt that made her happy. You could make most girls cum with your
fingers, and that was fun, but when it was your own thrusting that did
it, it felt special -- at least to him. He was excited and began a
fast, deep fuck. He wouldn't be able to hold out long -- but neither
would Lisa. He knew her signs, and just as his own ecstasy began, her
cunt clamped on his thrusting prick and she cried out over and over
again, and he added his spurts of cum to the mess that was already up
inside her.
Once he'd shot his load he withdrew, wiped his cock on some wet wipes and got dressed.
"Thanks, Lisa," he said. She just lay on her back, looking happy and dreamy.
The
clock showed he'd been there eleven minutes. About average. A lot of
the guys did it quicker, but he liked to take time with her face and
breasts.
Brian
had seen pictures of his mother Amy, but of course he didnft remember
her. He hadn't seen her since he was one, and she had died when he was
three. There were pictures of her being a real kid -- playing soccer,
drawing, swinging on bars -- all things that he had never seen a girl
do. A lot of kids had video of their moms, but for some reason Amy's
parents Rhonda and John hadn't taken video.
One picture of his
mother Amy in particular touched him. It showed her biting her pencil
and looking down at a sheet of math problems with the same air of
concentration a boy might have. But her face was feminine, her long
hair lustrous. She could both be sexually attractive and do math problems.
His
grandmother Rhonda had died in the Calamity, of course, though there
were pictures of her, and video too. He visited his grandfather John
from time to time, but they didn't really hit it off.
He had
grown up with his father Dale and his younger brother Josh. In all, the
household had four grown men, five boys and one girl.
Brian
was a little nervous going to his friend Tony's birthday party. The
main event was a "Variety Pack", an assortment of girls for the boys to
have sex with, all in one room. He'd gotten used to having sex with
other boys watching, and it didn't bother him. But it didn't turn him
on the way it did some others, apparently including Tony.
There were three boys, Isaac being the other guest, and there were five girls.
"Let
me summarize the key rules once more," said the girls' handler. "It's
all being recorded," he said, pointing to the three video cameras
fastened to the walls. "No pain -- if the girl shows any unhappiness
you have to stop at once, and you can't do anything that you'd expect
to hurt. And you can't penetrate Sammy," he said, pointing to the
smallest of the girls. "Have fun, boys. I'll be back for them at 10 in
the morning."
Tony rubbed his hands together and looked at his
friends. "I've been 'abstaining' for three days in preparation for
this," he said. "I want a go-round first. You just watch for now, OK?"
"Hey, you're the birthday boy," said Brian.
"What
you got there, Sammy?" Tony said, lifting up the hem of the youngest
girl's pink dress as she lay back on the bed, smiling pleasantly. The
pattern of her dress was the word "Sammy" on the diagonal, printed over
and over in white.
A hairless slit came into view. Tony felt her
chest through the fabric of her dress. "She's not even starting with
breasts. They said all the girls were 13, I guess she's just a late
bloomer. Well, anyway, little Sammy, how'd you like some tongue?"
He stroked her cheek and she smiled at him, then he dove between her legs and began licking. Sammy smiled and sighed.
He
didn't lick long before getting up with an exclamation of, "She tastes
good!" He stripped. "Man, all these girls are hot. Hey, you guys can
strip too." As Brian and Isaac stripped, Tony thrust his crotch at
Sammy's face. "You can have this in your pussy when you're older,
honey," he said, tapping his cock gently against her cheeks. She
blinked when the foreign object got near her eyes, but otherwise kept
smiling.
"Let me have a go at Wanda," he said, noting a very
pregnant girl. She was naked except for black stockings. Embroidered on
the upper part of each stocking thigh was "Wanda" in pink script, with
an arrow pointing at her pussy hole. Wanda was lying on her side, and
as Tony nudged her she heaved up into a doggy position.
He
turned to his two pals. "Prick," he said, displaying his very erect
organ. "Cunt," he said, pointing at Wanda's hole as he gently separated
her lips. "Fuck," he said, as he glided his organ in.
"Aaahhh!" he said, as Wanda made her own "Mmmmm" sound.
"I like feeling the babies kick," he said, reaching around her front and massaging her stomach. "Yup -- there he goes," he said.
After a minute of lazing thrusts he pulled out.
"Here's
Lynn," he said, turning his attention to a skinny girl in sky-blue
panties and a tight yellow T-shirt over small breasts. The panties had
"Lynn" printed sideways along the crotch in white. "She's not my type
so much, but I've still got to claim her," he said, nudging the girl's
legs apart. "The girls are all already wet and turned on; it's part of
the prep," he said to his friends. "Hey, Lynn, you want a cock up your
pussy hole? Of course you do!" He shoved her panty fabric to one side
and spread her lips before probing with his slick cock and pressing it
into her. Lynn closed her eyes and smiled as he pumped in and out a few
times, then looked disappointed when he pulled out.
"Zoe here,
she's quite something." The girl had very large breasts, big hips and
ass, and a narrow waist. She had short dark, curly hair, and dark brown
eyes set in pale skin. Her name was written as a temporary tattoo over
her breasts as well as on the inside of each thigh. She eyed his cock
hungrily as he approached and spread her legs wide, knees raised. With
her two hands she opened her pussy. Tony paused with the tip of his
cock right at her opening.
"What do you want, baby?" he asked, staying in position. "You want my cock?"
As
Tony kept Zoe hanging, her smile turned to a frown, and she started
thrusting her hips and trying to scoot down on the bed towards his cock.
"I
guess you want it," he said, lunging to lodge his tip in her outer
pussy. "So let's give you a fine fucking," he said, and guided his cock
into the girl deep. He lowered himself, working his arms around behind
her back, then began a fast fuck.
"Unnnh, unnnh, unnnh," he repeated over and over in a bass grunt.
Brian found his cock getting very hard watching the primal fuck going on in front of him.
"Aaaaahhhh,
ooooooo, mmmmmmm," moaned the girl, but her vocalizations quickly got
more intense. "Oh, oh, oh, oh, OH, OH!" she yelled in under a minute.
"Glad
to be of service," panted Tony, sliding out. "Had to concentrate not to
shoot in her, because this big load is bound for Katy," he said,
turning his attention to the last girl.
Katy was a classic blond
cover girl, with shoulder-length hair, deep blue eyes that sparkled,
and a perfectly proportioned willowy body. She was wearing a white
ruffly dress, partly undone in the front. "Katy" was embroidered on the
chest in dark red.
As the other two boys watched, Tony lowered
his head to kiss the girl's cheeks, ears, and neck before settling down
for an old-fashioned kiss. She didn't exactly kiss him back, but he
rubbed lips with her sensuously. Meanwhile, his hand slid through the
open slit in the front of her dress to expose and fondle her breasts,
then he worked one hand up under her dress from below.
"Oh, man, I can't stand it any more," he said, and pushed Katy's dress up to reveal her naked pussy.
He engaged his cock and pushed. "Oh, that's fantastic!" he moaned.
Holding
himself up on his hands and feasting his eyes on her body, he rammed
his cock in and out in a frenzy. Katy smiled and her eyes glazed over
with pleasure.
"Aw, shit, I can't hold it!" he said excitedly.
He held his breath as he came, his scrunched up face and frantic
movements betraying his orgasm.
"Aww, what a great fuck!" he
panted and lowered himself onto her, cock still engaged in her pussy.
"OK, now go ahead, help yourselves," he said to the other two boys.
"Don't mind if I do," said Isaac, and immediately buried himself in Zoe, who promptly began coming again.
Brian
had his eye on Lynn, and worked her panties down over her ankles before
engaging their fuck organs. He too set about mating with gusto. Lynn
sighed and smiled but didn't seem to be headed towards an orgasm any
time soon. He'd worry about that later, he decided. He wasn't up for a
marathon, and forty seconds after filling her pussy with his cock, he
completed the act by splatting her upper pussy with his cum.
Having
deposited their first load in a hot pussy, the edge was off the boys'
sexual hunger. They put on some music and began talking and joking.
Before
they settled down for their first movie, though, they each set
themselves up with some feminine company. Tony sat Zoe beside him and
fondled her boobs. Isaac positioned Katy on his lap, fondling her
breasts and making slow undulating thrusting movements with his hips,
lifting her body up and down.
Brian put Sammy on one side and
Lynn on the other, and both happily snuggled up against him. But Lynn
straddled his leg and began humping against him. "Lynn, dear, I'm
trying to watch the movie," he said.
"Hey, want a vibrator?" asked Tony, tossing him one.
"Sounds
good," said Brian. With the device gently nestled right at Lynn's clit,
the girl began moaning, and Tony paused the video. But in under a
minute Lynn shouted with urgency as her orgasm seized her. Then she
became a rag doll and snuggled against Brian blissfully.
Tony's
father brought in ice cream sundaes as a surprise dessert. They each
ate a large one, but paused to give spoonfuls to whatever girl was
close at hand.
At Tony's suggestion, they covered the tips of
their cocks with warm fudge sauce and offered them to the girls. The
girls licked it off, giving a version of oral sex, but it was more a
novelty than truly satisfying. It aroused them enough that each took a
turn to burrow his cock into a different cunt and squirt her with
ecstasy.
Brian spooned himself against the back of the pregnant
Wanda and positioned young Sammy between them with her crotch at his
face. He worked his cock into the pregnant girl for a long, slow fuck
while applying his mouth to Sammy's innocent twat. After half an hour
of careful attention he worked her up to a real orgasm, surprisingly
strong for a girl who showed no signs of development. It inspired him
to finish off Wanda, twitching in her pussy and expelling a little more
sperm.
Eventually they all slept, snuggled against some girl or
other. At different times during the night they each awoke and got
satisfying release from a quick fuck of the girl they were with.
In
the morning they got out vibrators and stimulated all the girls to
multiple orgasms, one after another until the girls finally pushed them
away.
Just before ten, they each took a parting shot at the
gorgeous Katy, leaving her pussy teeming with fresh sperm from all
three of them.
When
Dale had agreed on the spur of the moment to impregnate Amy just a few
days after the Calamity, he and John had both assumed that John would
raise the baby. Amy was the mother, and she lived in his household. But
they discovered with the rest of society that Brian had to go with
Dale: Amy would die shortly, and John was just the grandfather, one
generation removed. Dale never regretted the decision to impregnate
Amy, though. He was especially glad because for some reason his own
daughter Veronica was infertile, and had died childless at age 19.
When
Brian suggested that his father buy him a Variety Pack for his own
birthday, Dale resisted. When he asked for more detail, Brian produced
the video of Tony's party. Dale fast-forwarded through much of it, but
slowed it down to watch the juicy parts. As he did, he thought about
the past.
In his youth anything like that would have been
illegal, doubly so as it involved girls under the age of 18. Wanting it
would have been seen as a crude desire, frowned on by men and women
alike. Although younger people engaged in casual sex, at heart everyone
saw its ideal form as the expression of love between a man and a woman
committed to each other for life.
Since the Calamity, Dale had
had plenty of sex with girls. He'd always enjoyed it, but he'd also
always been aware of the tragedy that was embodied by the girl. She
really ought to be a full human being, with intellect intact, like the
girls he had known most of his life. The fact that all girls were
happy-go-lucky idiots meant the world was fundamentally out of kilter.
But
as Dale studied Tony's, Isaac's, and Brian's faces, he saw a calm
there. Yes, the three boys 'used' the girls in a sense to satisfy their
lust. But they were kind to the girls. They put considerable effort
into giving them orgasms, and their faces showed genuine happiness as
they studied the face of a girl convulsing with pleasure. But there was
something else.
He realized suddenly that they had made an
adjustment he had not: The boys accepted the girls just the way they
were. They were very limited mentally, and they were doomed to die
around the age of 20. But they were mostly content. They enjoyed eating
sweets, cuddling, and sex -- sex more than anything. That was the peak
of female development in the new world, that and pregnancy. There was
nothing more.
As he reviewed Brian's request, Dale thought about
the girls who would be in the Variety Pack. They had no desire for
monogamous relationships; they felt no jealousy. What was wrong with a
boy celebrating his birthday with a couple other guys and a bunch of
girls in an orgy?