Men
Are Just Testicles In Prison
by Sterling
Chapter 10 of 10
The
oldest children were twelve when an electrifying news story made its
way to them. In the former state of Georgia, the Dworkinian militia had
been called up to hunt down and capture a band of renegades.
Approximately 300 women whose babies had been diagnosed as having the
genetic disease of maleness had, instead of having the required
abortions, fled over the years in a steady stream into the wilderness.
They had banded together and supported themselves for many years with
makeshift agriculture in an illegal settlement. But when the older boys
had grown into their teen years, trouble began. First there were
isolated reports of rapes at settlements in the area -- the kind where
the women struggled or said "no", not the kind defined by political
ideology. This was followed by hit-and-run gang rape attacks and
finally abductions.
The initial contingent of Dworkinian
negotiators had been hopeful that the young men would surrender. When
that didn't happen, they were confident of a quick victory by their
militia, since they were armed with automatic weapons. But the teen
boys had managed to locate firearms of their own. The militia had found
themselves taking casualties from sniper fire in their exploratory
raids. An entire patrol perished in an ambush. Many of the renegade
women had surrendered when it became apparent that a military operation
was in progress, some bringing their young sons with them. But the teen
boys defied calls to surrender. Finally 3,000 militia had been
assembled. Some adult women were found firing on their fellow women in
fierce and primitive defense of their sons. Devious tactics by the boys
resulted in another dozen fatalities among the militia. But the boys
were cornered and utterly defeated. Fifty-five young men had been
killed in battle. Twenty-four who had been part of military resistance
had been publicly executed. Authorities refused to comment on the fate
of the younger boys. Rumors were that some had been captured and
imprisoned -- which was, after all, the fate of all males regardless of
behavior. Hard-liners argued that such boys should have been publicly
tortured and executed as a clear reminder to women that bringing male
pregnancies to term without permission would lead to nothing but
misery. They accused the Central Committee of waffling on the
principles of Dworkinism. They felt that these veins in the society of
sympathy for males needed to be rooted out and crushed completely. No
woman involved received less than a 5-year prison term. Any who had
fired upon their sisters in the militia received life terms without
parole.
The press suggested that similar problems on a much
smaller scale had been handled quietly without publicity for years, but
the magnitude of this operation meant its existence could not be
suppressed.
Was this not exactly what Amy had predicted and feared a decade
earlier? The adults in Amy's band complimented her once more.
The
band judged that they should be relatively safe since they were still
far from any major approved settlements, their band was quite small,
and there were of course no rapes going on. They did try to think of
mechanisms they could devise that might totally rule out that
possibility of rape when their boys got older.
As a fallback
strategy, Tara suggested that they build a large jail, and if any
investigators were expected, they could lock up all the males until the
crisis was over. She was reminded that the law forbade raising more
than 5% male children under any circumstances.
It
was a large room, with three double beds. A dozen strategically
positioned candles gave a soft light. In the room were six naked
people. Five had breasts and notable hips of varying sizes, but they
were all of one basic pattern. Nothing was visible between their legs
except a thatch of hair. The sixth looked quite different. This person
was much taller, with a bushy growth of hair on cheeks, throat and
upper lips, as well as some on the chest. Between the legs, this person
had a thatch of hair but clearly visible organs. A fleshy tube stuck
out from his body, six inches long. As it rose from his body, it
revealed a sac with with two roughly spherical lumps. It was Bill: the
male, the man.
"This man is Bill, my husband," said Alison. "He
produces semen, the stuff of life, and he is the only one among us who
does. You all have been offered the right to receive his semen in a
small container to try to induce pregnancy when you wish. Correct?"
The others all nodded their assent.
"Yet
you have also all indicated that you would instead prefer this man Bill
to personally penetrate your bodies with his penis: to puncture you, to
thrust rudely into the depths of your vagina and spew his semen into
your innards. Correct?" The others all nodded.
"And you have
agreed that my price for allowing and ordering Bill to accommodate you
in this fashion is to allow him to perform on you this same act of
violence and domination and humiliation..." The four women all smiled,
and Molly covered her mouth to avoid laughing out loud. "... whenever I
command him to." The others all nodded once more.
"Who here today wishes to become pregnant?"
Nancy raised her hand timidly and curtseyed.
"Bill,
lie down on your back..." When he did, she muttered, "I've got to take
the edge off," and she proceeded to impale herself on his hard cock.
"See? He's mine!" said Alison. She proceeded to hump up and down. "And
he feels so
good up there," she said about thirty seconds later, then
concentrated and shut her eyes and shuddered. She collected herself and
pulled off.
After collecting herself for half a minute, she said, "Bill, take a
sample and see if you think Nancy is in season."
Bill
went over to Nancy, who lifted her right knee with her right hand and
steadied herself on Bill's shoulders with her left. He slid his finger
to the center of her hairy spot and pressed inward, taking a swab of
fluid. He raised it to his nose and sniffed. He smiled enthusiastically
at Alison.
Alison's next command was not to Nancy. "Very well.
Amy, hands and knees!", she said, motioning her over to one of the
beds. When Amy had complied, she said, "Bill, fuck her deep."
As
Bill moved up behind her, Alison leaned over to look intently at Amy's
face. Bill aimed, nuzzled his tip into her opening, and gave a mighty
shove into the first vagina he'd ever been in. It felt great, her pussy
taking him all the way in, squeezing firmly. He couldn't see Amy's
face, but he imagined it showed pleasure. Alison seemed pleased by
whatever she saw.
"Enough," said Alison, and he withdrew.
"Tara,
present!" she ordered, and the procedure was repeated. Bill could
easily tell all five pussies apart with a mere stroke. Tara's was a bit
warmer than the others, but not so deep -- he always felt his tip
nuzzling and bumping against the end wall of her vagina.
"Molly,
bitch time!" ordered the alpha female, and Bill relished in plunging
his prong into the long, tight channel. He gave several strokes, but
stopped when he felt himself starting down the path to orgasm.
"OK, Nancy, lady's choice," said Alison, and Nancy chose the receptive
missionary position.
Bill
mounted and slid into the slightly rough, slick vagina of a fertile
woman. When he had achieved his depth, he began a vigorous fuck. The
others all gathered around, fingers between their legs, rubbing or
pressing or fluttering.
"Go for it, Bill," muttered Amy. "Yeah,
do her good," added Alison. "Shoot it out deep," said Tara. "Lots and
lots of it," said Molly.
Bill looked around at the approving
collection of femininity, at all the pussies he had just invaded, and
then down at the woman who wanted to get pregnant. He was the only one
who could manage this, and Alison left the tactics of the final assault
up to him. And an assault it was, diving in and out fast, hard and
deep. But Nancy apparently enjoyed this sort of violation, for within a
minute she gasped and bucked upwards as her orgasm struck. Bill kept
pounding, pleasure building, penis bulging, primal urgency overpowering
him. Ecstasy hit, and he kept pounding in and out as his cock spewed
his seed right at her fertile spot, then mucked it all around the area
with his continuing thrusts. When he was done spurting and dribbling,
he pulled out.
"Good job," "Way to go," "I'll be up in a couple
weeks,"... said the others, as they put on their minimal clothing and
filed out. Nancy got up to leave too, and that left Bill and Alison.
They lay together, talking and cuddling for an hour.
Alison
didn't have to command Bill to fuck any of the others. She left it to
his discretion. Her only rule was that for every time he made love to
one of them, he had to do the same to her too -- or at least offer, as
her interest waned considerably late in pregnancy and for three months
or so after birth. All of the women had healthy sexual appetites most
of the time. They knew they had to share, so their arrangement with
Bill was that they were willing any time he had time and interest. He
tried to get to every pussy at least once a week. The math and the
rules required him to do Alison a half dozen times each week as well --
which he was delighted to do.
Thomas
was 24 years old. There were 53 children, including Addie's two by way
of her husband Isaac. The community was known by the rather unusual
name of "Amy's Vision".
Meanwhile, power had shifted in the
Central Committee. The younger generation had finally taken control.
The edict had just gone out: communities could vote to stop forced
abortions. Almost all did. The population would over time return to
nature's intended ratio of one male to one female. The Central
Committee enjoyed a surge of goodwill from this single change.
But
they had a problem, and they knew it: How could they transform their
society to accommodate a rising tide of boys? How could they do this
without reintroducing the patriarchy? Some thought all would be well
since they started out from a just society uncontaminated by male
influence. Others thought it would require eternal vigilance.
There
were more immediate concerns. How should they deal with the existing
males who had lived as slaves all their lives, some of them notably
bitter and angry over their treatment? Who would serve as role models
for the tide of boys as they grew up? How should they deal with the
pent up demand of women for male sex partners? Illegal settlements
whose younger generation was predominantly male still existed, but the
young men had been raised without Dworkinian values. Some had clearly
reinvented the values of the patriarchy, sometimes in virulent form.
One of the last actions of the old guard had been extensive military
campaigns to wipe out many such communities, but they had missed many
more groups than they had found. The Central Committee was negotiating
partial amnesties for such groups. One enticing prospect was the
availability of many women as sex partners if they demonstrated their
willingness to rid themselves of patriarchal values.
Some items
remained nonnegotiable. It was agreed that men would be forbidden from
joining the military or police and from owning firearms. They would not
be allowed to vote.
One of the most subtle matters involved how
men and women should relate to each other. Reform-minded activists
scoured the countryside and found a dozen places in North America where
men and women lived together. In some, male dominance had re-emerged,
and others were clearly dysfunctional in other ways.
Amy's
Vision was the best example they could find of a community that both
worked well in practice and showed reasonable equality between the
sexes. As a result, a small army of women descended to study them. All
residents were interviewed in great depth. Documentaries were made.
They participated in the development of curriculum plans for
instructors on how to set up successful communities following similar
principles. Over the years they watched video of how boys behaved and
how they were treated and offered their frank assessments.
Bill and Alison lay in each other's arms, drifting off to sleep.
They had just that evening seen video of some 8-year-old boys and girls
interacting that struck Bill as optimistic.
"It's weird to think I'm the role model for the entire male gender of a
nation."
"You're a great role model."
"Not all men are going to want to pledge to obey their wives."
"Yeah,
they know that. It's just a good transitional stage, a good way to make
it more palatable to the women with hard-line sympathies."
"Amy
says that whole thing about not being in the military and not voting is
just temporary, too. Society will change once half the adults are men
again."
"She may be right. She even thinks things will go back
to the old ways, or maybe even worse, if men decide they want payback.
I sure hope she's wrong."
"Me too."
They lay silent a
while before Bill continued. "I was so close to being snuffed out by
Washington Lake if nobody bought me. If Amy had gotten a cramp in her
arm or something and not bid on me, I'd have been dead within a few
days at most. And then if you hadn't risked your life to get me out of
Rachel's clutches --"
"If I hadn't done that -- if I hadn't at
least tried -- I couldn't have lived with myself. And if I hadn't had
the courage to get to know you and become your lover in the first
place, I don't know what would have happened. I would have trudged
through life, had some halfhearted partnership with some woman,
probably, had a few daughters, aborted a few sons."
"I guess I
never had any big decisions to make, really. It was all pretty obvious
for me. I was in danger, but I didn't have any control."
"You could have stayed silent with Rachel and let her starve you to
death with dignity."
"What dignity?"
Alison
thought a moment. "I guess that's often the way it is when one gender
is in charge. Way back in history, women pretty much went along for the
ride. A fair number of them were happy -- about as many as men, I'd
guess -- but the men made all the decisions."
"Hmmmm. Makes
sense. So maybe for a while at least we'll have a society where the
women are more in charge than the men, but it's still pretty much
equal?"
"Could be. Amy would probably know best."
"Yeah, she probably would."
Alison's hand rested lightly on Bill's cock and then began stroking it
softly. It did its natural thing.
Bill looked at her questioningly.
"One more baby. I'd like one more baby. You willing to try?"
"Of course, my dear, if that is what you command."
They
grinned at each other. In less than a minute of Bill's expert finger
work, Alison was ready. She lay back, spread her legs, and lifted her
arms in surrender.
Bill mounted, glided in, and began a gentle rowing motion. Alison
smiled and Bill smiled back. All was well.