Men
Are Just Testicles In Prison
by Sterling
Chapter 1 of 10
Bill
tried to keep calm, but it was hard. Anna had told him he had better be
on his very best behavior or he'd suffer the consequences.
He
was in a large covered building usually used for cattle shows. In the
arena itself were a dozen or so poles stuck firmly into the ground,
spaced evenly 15 yards apart in a row. At each pole was a young man,
hands cuffed behind his back, tied to the pole. Bill was naked except
for a sort of loose skirt that came down to mid-thigh, and his bare
feet stood on rutted dirt that still smelled of cattle and their
leavings. In the bleachers were a few hundred women.
In front of
the bleachers was a platform raised several feet above the ground. On
it was a long table, and seated behind it, facing the bleachers, were
several gray-haired women. The one in the center rose.
"Attention,
everyone! We gather once more in the spirit of Dworkinism, hoping as
always to move a little closer to the ideal society we have set out to
create. Welcome on this beautiful fall afternoon to the first North
Central Sperm Exchange. Some of you have come a considerable distance
and we welcome you especially.
"We Dworkinians have largely
achieved our goal of eradicating the patriarchy. There is no glass
ceiling to prevent a woman's rise in her career. There are no wolf
whistles, no pinched butts, no crude jokes. No woman or girl goes out
at night with that nagging fear that she might get raped. No woman
within marriage is raped to satisfy her husband's base desires. No
woman cowers in fear before the physical power and cruelty of her
husband, facing the agonizing choice of getting beaten yet once more or
leaving to live with her children in abject poverty. We have solved
these problems by eliminating men from society!"
Smatterings of applause from the crowd during her speech coalesced into
a substantial ovation. After it subsided, she continued.
"As
was noted many decades ago, the only necessary function males serve is
as a source of sperm. Many of us thought we'd never see the day when
that was all we needed them for, but as sweet fruit of the unspeakably
bitter holocaust, that day has come! That is why we're here today. To
prevent inbreeding within our various communities, we need to exchange
genetic material, which is of course most conveniently accomplished by
exchanging the living male sources of this material. Up until now this
has been handled privately, but there have been limitations. Rarely
have communities had young males come of age at the same time to
arrange a direct swap. Giving one now in expectation of getting one
some number of years down the line has proved problematic. Young males
have been bought and sold, but they have sold for as little as $300 and
as much as $59,000, leaving one party or the other feeling cheated by
the extremes in price.
"Markets -- carefully but fairly
regulated, as always -- are a pillar of the good society. The time has
come to create a market for sperm producers. Here before you today we
have 14 source of sperm. Fourteen pairs of testicles and -- oh yeah --
the young men they are attached to." The word 'men' was emphasized with
disapproval. "This is a pilot program. Other regions in North American
are watching us."
"These young males are all basically well
behaved. They are at least 18 years of age, and they produce semen on
command, deposit it in the cup provided and hand it over. The semen of
each one has been microscopically examined and determined to have high
sperm counts with excellent motility. Five of these specimens before
you have had their sperm used to successfully start at least one
pregnancy. They are all free of any known diseases or genetic defects.
Their pedigrees are on record for your examination. Naturally our
communities allow only the most accomplished of their women carry a
male pregnancy to term -- and I'm proud to say that accomplishment
includes mastery of the revolutionary Dworkinian ideology. So here
before you are sources of the genetic diversity we seek, however
repugnant the male animals those genes currently reside within. When
the sperm that unites with one of our eggs is lacking the hateful Y
chromosome, the result is a daughter -- a new citizen of our glorious
society. In this way is the Dworkinian dream to be realized!" There was
more applause.
"So now we come to the practical matter of how
the auction is to be conducted. Our next speaker will explain the
procedure to you..."
Ten yards in front of each boy was a table,
with two or occasionally three women seated behind it. At his own table
was his handler Sarah and also Mary, an older woman who was a leader in
his community, Washington Lake. Once the second speaker had finished
her explanations, many women filed down from the grandstand to start
evaluating the boys available for purchase. Typically they first paid a
visit to the table before approaching the boy.
A trio of women approached Bill, and he gulped.
Sarah
had made it clear what was riding on this. More prosperous communities
could afford to bid a higher price, and that prosperity would likely
mean his cell would be nicer and his food more varied. If there was no
bid at all, he would go back to Washington Lake for another year until
the next auction. But as he well knew, the only reason his existence
was tolerated was because he was a source of sperm. If he brought
little or no interest in the marketplace, there was certainly no reason
for him to go on living. Sarah stated this as a simple, obvious fact,
and of course it made sense to Bill too. But however pathetic and
worthless he might be, he wanted to live! He had heard that there were
a few other boys growing up in his community, and they could probably
sell one of them for a good price. Sarah said Mark in particular was
looking more promising than him. He had never met Mark. Boys were never
allowed to meet, it had been explained, because they might encourage
each other in patriarchal thoughts and behaviors springing from the
male evil within. On this day he stole glances at the young men on
either side and he saw them checking him out, but naturally any attempt
to communicate with them would be viewed unfavorably.
"Hello, William," said one of the approaching women. "How are you
today?"
"I'm fine, ma'am," he said meekly.
"And how do you see your place in life, William?"
Bill was puzzled. "Excuse me, ma'am, I'm afraid I don't understand."
"You
are here today being offered for sale. If we buy you, how do you see
yourself fitting into our community? How do you feel about it?"
"My
role is to provide sperm when requested. Because I am male, I am an
inferior and pathetic person and providing sperm is my only purpose in
life. I am grateful for the chance to serve Dworkinism in the only way
fitting to one of my gender."
The first woman nodded approvingly.
"Nice color of hair," said one of the others.
"Yes, and not too much chest hair," said the third. "And look, his
beard is quite full. That's a good sign."
"He seems awfully tall and muscular. Just the sort of traits that
rapists had," said the second.
"But
our security is excellent," said the third. "And the genes that make
men tall and muscular also tend to produce tall and muscular daughters."
"True," said the second. "But his skin is pale, and his face... I don't
know. Would you like your daughters to look like that?"
"Hmmm," said the first woman. "Let's go on to the next."
"Wait," said the third. "Who knows how the auction will go? We ought to
look at what we'd be paying for."
The first woman said, "I'm glad you're willing to do this. I couldn't
fact touching those disgusting things even once!"
"You
get used to it," said the third. With that she moved to his front and
the other two gathered behind her. All three faces wore sour
expressions as she reached in and lifted Bill's skirt. She lifted his
limp penis with one hand, and with her other hand found each testicle
and rubbed it between her fingers. She then withdrew her hands and let
the skirt fall, immediately taking the antiseptic paper towel one of
the others offered and carefully cleaning her hands.
"Seems OK," she said.
The first woman said, "I think numbers 6 and 7 are still our top
choices. I'd hate to be stuck with this specimen."
"Well
of course," said the second woman as she tossed the towel into a small
wastebasket not far from Bill's feet. "But we don't know how the
bidding will go." And without any further word to him they strolled on
to the next boy in line.
A group of five women wandered up and
without a word to him looked him up and down. "I'm sure we'll do better
than that," said one, "given what we're prepared to pay."
"Shhh!"
hissed another. "You can never be sure, and we shouldn't reveal our
intentions. We have to at least pretend to be interested." With that,
she walked around behind him, nodding thoughtfully, and when she was in
front of him lifted his skirt to take a look at his genitals. "Yes,
very interesting," she said absentmindedly and joined the others who
were already part way to the next boy's table.
One group of four
approached and took only the briefest look at his sexual apparatus, but
they pressed fingers into his thighs and calves, back and front. One
rubbed his nipples in her fingers and pressed more deeply around that
area. One got close to his ear and suddenly shouted, "Boo!" Naturally
Bill jumped a little, but remembered that above all he must be kind and
polite. A couple of the other women looked at her questioningly, and
she said, "It's important to learn his temperament."
The next group to visit was just a pair of women, one fairly old and
the other younger.
"Hello, William, my name is Emily," said the older one.
"And I'm Amy," said the younger, who actually looked into his eyes and
smiled.
"Hello, pleased to meet you," said Bill, smiling in turn but quickly
looking away, fearing he might be seen as insolent.
All
of the women wore baggy clothing of one sort or other, but there was
something about this younger woman that made his heart beat a little
faster. He only dared occasional glances, of course, as he had been
taught anything more was very rude. But when she lifted his skirt, he
realized that his penis was no longer small and insignificant. While it
was still pointed downward, it was near its full size. He caught a
brief smile on Amy's face. She then did something none of the other
women had: she wrapped her fingers around his penis in a gentle hold,
and she gave a few gentle squeezes a few seconds apart.
Bill
closed his eyes and tried to control his breathing, as he felt more
blood surging into his penis. This was no good! Sarah and the others
had made it clear that the only time he should get an erection was when
he was providing a semen sample. Erections at other times suggested his
rapist nature was not controllable.
Emily moved to the side and saw what was happening. "Amy!" she scolded.
"What are you doing! If anyone saw you!..."
"It's
OK, mom," she said, removing her hand and letting the skirt fall back
into position and giving her mother an impish grin. "That is what we're
buying him for, right?"
"Yes, but it's very impolite -- what is everyone going to think?"
"Oh,
don't worry," said Amy with a smile. Bill realized with shame that his
penis was growing harder all the time. It was tenting out his skirt in
dramatic fashion.
"Oh, look!" cried a woman who was in front of
the boy to his left, pointing at his bulge from 15 yards away. Other
heads turned, and reactions varied. Some rolled their eyes, others
shook their heads in disgust, and a few smirked, but all quickly turned
their heads aside. Emily turned red, and Amy too looked a little
flustered. They were blocking the sight line between him and Sarah, but
when the two of them moved on, Sarah and Mary instantly saw the bulge
at the same time. Mary rolled her eyes and gave Sarah a dirty look.
Sarah gave him a very cold stare. Bill looked away, miserable, but one
effect was that his erection started shrinking rapidly. Mary saw
Sarah's reaction and said quietly, "Don't worry, dear, it's not your
fault. And there's Mark coming along." After a pause she spoke very
quietly, but Bill could hear her. "I don't know if it's worth keeping
him another year, though, do you?"
Sarah shook her head almost imperceptibly, looking down. "But after all
I've done for him..."
Bill
got the picture. His erection would make him unsaleable, and they
wouldn't bring him back in a year. That meant he would be killed. He
wondered how long it would be. His heart pounded as he realized he
might have only days to live. Maybe only hours!
As the women continued their inspections, none stopped to look at him
any more.
Bill
tried to be brave. He wasn't sure he'd be killed; he wasn't even sure
no one would buy him. But he found himself fighting back tears. He
managed not to sob and got himself under control before long, but he
could feel a line of tears rolling down each cheek.
He spotted
Amy and Emily in the bleachers, talking to each other and consulting
notes. Amy looked at him and furrowed her brow, and he then saw her
leave her seat and wander down to the boy next to him. She then walked
in front of him to get to the boy on his other side, but as she passed
she stole a couple glances at him, and after a few seconds at the other
boy she returned to her mother. He saw them whispering and looking at
him, and her mother looking thoughtful.
The second woman on the
platform, the one in charge of the details, said, "Comrades, the open
inspections are now over and the bidding will start in a minute." After
a few minutes all the women had returned to the bleachers.
"All
auctions will start at $1,000. The minimum raise is $100. Each
community has a red number, and you should raise it high when you want
to make a bid..."
"Comrades, the auction is now open on number
one. Do I hear $1,000? There, good. $1,100? Over there. Yes. $1,200?
OK. How about $1,500? Got you. $2,000? Yes... $3,000? Right. $5,000?
Got it. $10,000?" Up and up the bids went, and the boy finally sold for
$15,300.
The auction on boy number 2 was slower, and he went for $5,900.
Bill
was number 9. He gave a sigh of relief when there were no bids at all
on number 3. At least he wouldn't be the only one. Number 4 went for
$13,700, number 5 for $8,000 even. The bidding for number 6 went
rapidly to $20,000, at which point all extraneous chatter ceased and
the audience whispered excitedly. He finally sold for $42,400, and
there was a smattering of applause. Number 7 went for $4,900 and number
8 for $8,100. Then it was his turn.
Bill's eyes had kept a watch
on Amy and Emily throughout the auction. They had made a bid on a few
of the others, but never above $1,800 and never close to the winning
bid.
"OK, next up for auction is number 9. Do I hear $1,000?"
Emily
was holding the bidding token, and he saw her start to raise her arm,
but Amy grabbed it firmly and kept it down. Emily looked at her
questioningly. Amy took the bidding token from her, and Emily shrugged.
"$1,000? Anyone?" There were no bids. Bill's ears picked up a murmured,
"Fat chance."
"Last
call? $1,000?" And then Amy raised her hand high. "$1,000, we have a
bid of $1,000! Do I hear $1,100? ... $1,100 anyone? No? $1,000 going
once... going twice... sold for $1,000!"
And then Bill breathed a big sigh of relief. With one motion of her arm
Amy had saved his life.
When
the auction was over, a group of four muscular women unstaked each boy
in turn and led him to the truck or van of the community that was his
new owner. Amy and Emily had only a car, and although the security
women expressed some doubt about the safety of this arrangement, they
shrugged when Emily explained that the backseat girl locks were set.
They pushed him into the back, where he barely avoided banging his head
on the far door. They folded his legs in and slammed the door behind
him.
After the car had pulled out onto the highway, Amy turned and smiled at
him a couple times, briefly.
This is a tale of a different reality, one that did not happen to us.
The
year is 1981, the year that AIDS reared its very ugly head in our own
world. We didn't know how lucky we had it. In this parallel and
diverging universe, the microbe that fell upon the human race was far,
far more deadly.
It was highly contagious and spread through
droplets in the air and skin contact. The incubation period under
normal circumstances was two to three weeks, meaning it had spread far
beyond any hope of containment in the jet age before it was even
identified. The inherent fatality rate in men was about 99%, and in
women and girls 88%. The death rate for young boys was a mere 98%.
The
first symptom of the disease was insanity of a form somewhat similar to
rabies. In men, it was an aggressive insanity including an insatiable
desire for sex. This was followed by increasing joint pain over the
course of four or five days, and at the end fever and death. The women
who received the semen of an infected man vaginally contracted a vastly
accelerated version of the disease. They became ill within hours and
after a day of agony they all expired. With these deaths included, the
mortality rate in women and girls rose to 94%.
The incubation
period for men was typically two weeks and for women about three weeks.
This meant that in any given community, the first sign of the disease
was increasing insanity on the part of men, followed by a spree of rape
that killed women. By the time unraped infected women started dying, it
had little impact on the community's state of mind. Women are naturally
enraged at rape under all circumstances, but in this case almost all
the men became violent rapists, and the act of rape was literally
lethal to the woman. Many women tried to flee when the disease made an
appearance, but men retained enough sanity to be clever about tracking
them down. The anger of women was aroused as never before, and some
were enraged enough to murder any men they met. This resulted in an
actual fatality rate for men of over 99.5%. Of course most women are
simply not murderers. But most trusting women died, and the suspicious
and ruthless survived.
No corner of the globe was untouched by
the plague, but after wreaking its toll on an area for a month, it
simply vanished, never to return.
The social chaos around the
globe was indescribable. Yet out of a world population of 7 billion, a
death rate of 94% left 210 million women to survive. At least half of
the women survivors died in the social chaos from starvation, the
plagues humanity was already familiar with, and violent clashes borne
of fear and a search for resources.
But all of these facts were determined much later, by women scientists
poring over the evidence systematically.
Women coalesced into groups for survival, most with at least 100
members.
Existing
predominant ideologies had nothing to offer of comfort for this crisis.
But in the United States and Canada, one fringe ideology leapt to
prominence and garnered immense support: the idea that men are all
brutal rapists who can never be trusted, creatures who should be
eliminated from society except for a few kept around to provide sperm.
The ideology became known as Dworkinism, in honor of Andrea Dworkin.
She had not actually said, as some alleged, that "all sex is rape", but
she had said, "Penetrative intercourse is, by its nature, violent."
The
Dworkinian ideology fit the lessons of the holocaust, and in contrast
to other potential leaders who had lost their way, the women at its
core were energized, dedicated and efficient. They soon assumed power
and their ideas were accepted by most women in the wake of what they
had witnessed.
As they took stock and considered the future, the
women realized they were confronted with a largely empty continent.
This triggered the natural human urge to increase population and expand.
Much
of the advanced technology of the era was lost and rediscovered over
the course of decades, but intense effort was put into retrieving and
strengthening genetic testing for gender. All but the tiniest portion
of male pregnancies were to be terminated. This did not conflict with
the desire to repopulate the earth, for population growth is
fundamentally constrained by the number of uteruses in a society.
Aborting most male fetuses had little effect.
However tragic the
circumstances, there was at last the opportunity to realize the most
radical of feminist dreams: to destroy the patriarchy at its roots, to
largely eliminate maleness as a force in the social fabric by
eliminating males.
Ideologies on other continents varied, but
with population so low and vast tracts of fallow land available for
expansion -- and with women in charge -- aggression or domination
across vast oceans was not a factor for a very long time.
Bill's auction took place in 2011, 30 years after the holocaust.