Children - What's the point if they don't grow to be fertile
adults? (MF, rom, ScFi)

"Goodbye Mary," I said softly.

"Goodbye, Caleb, and thank you," she whispered, kissing me gently
on the cheek, before turning to go.  I watched as she waddled
down the sidewalk.  Like clockwork, the RC van pulled up to the
curb.  Mary got in and the next one got out.  Another pudgy one.
There used to be some skinny women.  Where did they all get to?

Pudgy One had her suitcase in one hand and her papers in the
other as she wallowed up the sidewalk.  At least she was making
an effort to look sexually attractive.  The tops of her ample
braless breasts pushed out of her tight, low cut silk blouse, the
friction from the fabric noticeably swelling her nipples as she
walked, her breasts swaying back and forth.  Her skin tight black
stretch pants outlined her large camel toe.  The fabric was so
thin and tight I could probably count the pubic hairs if she'd
let me.  One of the rich ones, I thought, or maybe one of the
privileged government types.  Unlike her pudgy driver who
followed behind her with a large basket of food stuffs, wearing
the usual bland, frumpy, government issue RC uniform.

"Hi Caleb," she said with a smile, setting down her suitcase, "My
name is Susan."  Before I could respond, she gave me a bear hug
and kissed the side of my neck and then handed me her papers.

"Nice to meet you, Susan," I replied, smiling and doing my best
to at least appear to be glad to meet her.  She apparently
thought my response was sincere enough.  She continued to smile
as I looked over her papers, nodded my acceptance and returned
them.

"Can I help with the suitcase or basket?" I asked.

"Oh, no, honey," she replied with that same smile.  "We need to
save your strength for later.  Which way to the bedroom?"

"Straight ahead and to the right," I replied.  She brushed by me,
squeezing my cock with her free hand as she went past, still
smiling, and made her way to the back of the house.  "The kitchen
is to the left" I said to the expressionless driver, who nodded
and entered, filled the refrigerator with the items in the basket
and left without saying a word.

I found Susan in the master bathroom, already topless, vigorously
brushing her curly, golden brown hair with a hair brush, her
breasts bouncing and swaying in time with the motion of her arms
and hands across her hair.  She didn't see me at first, but gave
me that same smile when I stepped into the reflections in the
mirror.

"Let's get right to it," she said, still smiling but now giggling
as well.

"I have a question first," I replied, placing my hands on the
sides of her bare shoulders while looking at the two of us in the
mirror.  "Your papers say you're not due to ovulate for another
six days.  You're here a little early, aren't you?"

"I know, honey, I am early, but I just thought we could use the
first part of the week to have a good time," she replied,
reaching up with her left hand to take my fingers and guide them
to her nipple.  "That's one of the advantages of working for the
Repopulation Council.  I get to make the weekly assignments."

"I thought so.  I thought you might work for the RC or maybe you
were just rich."  I now had both sets of fingers on a nipple and
proceeded to massage and pinch them to a pointed firmness.

"Don't I wish I was rich!  Those bitches get to fuck men whenever
they want, whether they're ovulating or not.  No, I'm not rich,
but my number came up in the lottery and since I make the weekly
assignments, I chose you.  We have nearly a whole week to fuck
each others brains out before we have to get serious.  It'll be
fun.  You'll see."  She gasped and her head rolled back slightly
when I pinched a little harder than I normally would have.  We
watched each other in the mirror, the back of her head resting on
my collarbone, as I continued to work her nipples with my
fingers, her fingers now intertwined with mine.  She finally
turned to face me.

"Let me help you with these," she whispered, dropping her hands
to the bottom of my tee shirt, pulling it up and over my head and
tossing it aside.  She paused to run her fingers through the
meager hair on my chest and then leaned down toward my left
nipple.  I felt her hot breath warm my skin just before she took
the nipple with her lips and teeth and began to rotate her mouth
against it.  Her hair cascaded down, tickling my abs as her locks
swayed back and forth against the already sensitive surface of my
skin.  After working the second nipple to an equally hard,
pointed tip as the first, she held her breasts and rubbed our
nipples together, her saliva acting to lubricate the motion,
bringing both pairs of nipples to an even more sensitive tingle.

Dropping to a knee, she undid the button on my pants, pulled the
zipper down and slid my pants and briefs down together to my
ankles in a single motion.  I kicked them aside as she hesitated
for a moment, then took my cock head into her mouth and gently
kneaded it with her lips and tongue.  I began to slowly fuck her
mouth, rocking my hips back and forth in slow, short strokes,
rubbing my glans against the rough texture on the roof of her
mouth.  When my moans apparently got too loud, she suddenly stood
and removed her stretch pants.

"That's enough.  No need to waste your cum on my mouth.  Let's
put it where it belongs."  She took my hand and pulled me back
into the bedroom, laid down on the bed and spread her legs. 
"Fill me with your cum," she whispered, in an almost imploring
tone of voice.  Her juices were already flowing down from her
slit to her asshole, staining the bed sheets.

There was no need for foreplay.  There would be plenty of time
for that later.  I crawled up between her legs and inserted my
cock into her warm, waiting pussy in a single, slow, fluid
thrust.  She flinched slightly as the head of my cock gently
struck the back of her cervix.

"Sorry," I whispered, as I paused for a moment to let her get
used to it.

"No need to apologize, honey.  I expect you to jam it all the way
in for the rest of the week.  Don't stop."

"Okay, you asked for it," I said with a wry smile.  Looking down
on her, I pulled her knees up with my arms and lifting her feet
off the bed.  My cock slid in even deeper.  She flinched even
more as I repeatedly pulled about half way out and then thrust
back in.  This wasn't gentle sex, this was deep, hard, ramming
sex.  Her head and eyes rolled back as I approached release, my
thrusts becoming somewhat erratic in depth and timing.

"That's it," she squeaked.  "That's it.  Oh, god.  Don't stop. 
Don't stop!"  I felt her squeeze her pussy muscles around my cock
head as the tension in my balls grew.  Still watching her, her
head still back, her mouth open, her breaths rushing out hard
into mine, I finally exploded, pushing hard and deep into her
with a loud grunt and then a long, slow exhale.

"Don't pull out," she said softly as I rested the side of my head
between her ample breasts.  "I want your cum to stay in as long
as possible."  The thin layer of sweat between us got thicker as
the warmth of our bodies only slowly dissipated and our heart
rates returned to normal.  My cock finally shrunk to the point
where it fell out by itself and I rolled off of her onto my back.
She clamped her legs together to try and hold the backflow in as
she rolled onto her side and kissed my shoulder.

"We're definitely going to have fun," she whispered.

*****

The next four days were essentially like the first.  Vaginal
fucking twice a day, only now with lots of clit and nipple
licking before, during and after to bring her to climax and get
my cum to where it needed to be.  We stayed naked the entire
time, even when eating the meals she prepared with the food she
brought.  Other than bringing her to orgasm, my only job was to
fill her pussy with cum.  It was beginning to wear on me.  It was
nothing Susan did physically, it was just the whole process. 
One of my occasional, but recently more frequent, bouts of
depression was settling in and it showed.

"What's the matter, baby?" she whispered as we lay in the
afterglow of our last fuck session, my dick still buried in her
cunt.

"Nothing," I replied quietly, avoiding looking at her.

"It's not nothing.  You haven't smiled all day.  What is it?  You
can tell me."

"No.  I don't need to burden you with this."

"It's alright.  You can talk to me.  If you're not happy, we're
all in deep shit."  I lifted up to face her, placing my hands on
either side of her head brushing her temples with my thumbs.  As
we looked into each other's eyes, I debated if I should trust her
or not.  What the hell, I thought, what could they do to me?

"For one thing," I whispered, "I'm lonely.  And it's getting
worse by the month."  My thumbs stopped moving.

"I don't understand.  You have someone new every week.  You have
a new woman in your house every week, for the whole week, to cook
and clean for you, to clean you, to make love to you.  How can
you be lonely?"

"There's no affection in what I do.  Each of you come here for a
week and we kiss and cuddle and pretend to be a loving couple. 
And then you're gone.  There's no long term friendship, no
commitment, no love.  There's just a never ending series of week
long fuck sessions.  And then you're gone."  I pulled out and
rolled over onto my back.  We lay quietly for several minutes as
she digested what I had said.

"I hadn't considered that side of it," she finally replied.  "But
what you do is important.  Don't you see, the service . . ."  She
paused, a dismayed look on her face, knowing she had said
something she shouldn't have.

"Service?" I asked.  "Like a stud horse?  Like a prostitute?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that," she replied softly,
stroking my arm with her fingers, almost to the point of tears. 
Probably the only sincere comment she's made for the past five
days, I thought.  I blinked and nodded, acknowledging her
apology.

"How many kids have I fathered?  Exactly."

"I'm sorry, I don't know.  Exactly."

"I didn't think so.  That's the other thing that's bothering me.
You lied to me.  You don't work for the RC.  Women capable of
bearing children don't work for the RC.  They have too many other
responsibilities related to protecting and raising the kids." 
She turned her head away, apparently afraid to look at me.  I lay
quietly, staring at those massive breasts of hers, waiting for
her to speak.  She was on the verge of tears as her breasts began
to tremble.

"My sister works for the RC," she said with a quivering voice as
she turned back to look at me, a tear running down her temple.  I
brushed it away.  When she turned to face me again directly, I
brushed the other tears away as well and waited for her to
continue.

"My sister says you're one of only a few men who can get a woman
pregnant.  The virus messed up the chromosomes of the others."

"Tell me something I don't already know."

"Alright.  My sister also told me you are one of only a handful
of men whose sons don't die within the first year.  You have
fathered over fifty daughters and almost as many sons.  Your sons
are weak, they get sick more often than your daughters, but
they're still alive."

"Fifty," I whispered, rolling onto my side to face her.  "Fifty
daughters and fifty sons.  That I didn't know."

"They don't tell you that, they don't tell you any of that?" she
asked.

"No, they don't.  And they don't let me see my children either. 
I don't know why.  Maybe it's for their protection, to keep them
safe.  I don't know.  But what's this got to do with you?"

"I'm sorry.  I should have told you earlier.  But I wanted to get
pregnant first."  There were tears in her eyes again.

"Tell me what?" I asked.  She didn't answer.  "What?" I yelled. 
She jerked sideways, crying again.

"They're going to take you away," she sputtered between sobs. 
"You and the other men who can father sons.  They're going to
lock you away, for your protection.  To keep you safe, so nothing
can happen to you."

"When?" I asked.  Again, she didn't answer.  "When?" I yelled and
she jerked sideways yet again.

"I don't know," she said between sobs.  "I mean, my sister
doesn't know, at least not for sure."

"Shit," I muttered, sitting up on the edge of the bed and turning
away from her as she continued to cry.  After a minute or two, I
looked around to see her back turned to me, her face in her
pillow, still crying her eyes out.  I laid back down beside her
and put my arm around her ample midsection, tucking my fingers
under her breast.  Her sobs eventually became fewer and softer as
she dozed off into a nervous sleep.

It was around four in the morning when she finally woke.  I was
sitting in the overstuffed recliner by the bed, looking out at
the moonlight streaming through the open window blinds.  She
knelt down in front of me, her hands on my knees. She was crying
again.

"Forgive me, Caleb," she whispered.  "I'm sorry. I was going to
tell you, but I wanted you to get me pregnant first.  I so want
to have baby, maybe even a baby boy.  It was selfish of me and
I'm sorry."  She placed her cheek on my knee and continued to cry
as I leaned slightly forward and gently stoked her hair.

"What are you going to do?" she asked quietly between sobs.

"I'm going to get the hell out of here, that's what I'm going to
do.  I'm going to steal the RC van tomorrow when you leave and
the next woman comes and you're going to help or so help me, I'll
beat the shit out of you."

"I'll help you," she said, her voice quivering.  "What the RC is
planning to do to you isn't right.  My sister and I both think it
isn't right.  She told me to tell you to head northeast, into the
mountains."

"Into what, an RC trap?" I remarked with a scoff.

"No, no, no.  Not a trap.  I don't know what's there, she
wouldn't tell me.  She said it was best I didn't know.  But you
should head northeast, that's all."  She rested her head on my
knee for several more minutes while I continued to stroke her
hair, cheek and neck.  I leaned forward and gently kissed her
temple.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.  "I didn't mean to be harsh.  I
wouldn't really beat you.  I would never do something like that.
I'm just angry, that's all."

"I know.  I know.  It's okay," she said, squeezing my legs.

"You should be ovulating soon."  She nodded.  "Come on, get up
and lie on the bed.  Let's try and get you pregnant."  She smiled
and quietly rose and lay back on the bed, her head on a pillow
against the headboard.

"I'll be hard in a moment.  Let's first get you wet and ready to
cum.  I want to be gentle this time.  Lift your knees up."  I
placed my face between her legs, spread her pussy lips with my
thumbs and gently slid my tongue into her vagina. I heard a soft
gasp, followed by a low moan.  I licked upward, making a hard
stroke with my tongue across her clit and went back down and
repeated the process.  The moans got louder with each lick of her
clit.  She was sopping wet in no time.

"You're ready.  After I slip my cock in, I'll leave enough room
between us for you to massage your clit.  Bring yourself close to
coming.  I'll let you know when I'm about to come.  I want you to
come right after I do.  Okay?"

"Yes, okay.  I'm ready," she whispered.

I slid all the way in with one gentle thrust.  Was it my
imagination, or did she feel warmer?  Definitely wetter, but
warmer too?  My thrusts were slow and short at first, always
striking the back of her cervix as she massaged her clit, first
rotating her thumb over the nub, then gently rubbing her fingers
up and down.  Soft moans from each of us became sharp gasps with
each longer, but still gentle, thrust of my cock.  We grinned at
each other, almost laughed, but didn't stop.  The tension in my
balls was building.

"I'm getting close."

"Not yet," she whispered.  I slowed my thrusts and let her catch
up.  After about thirty seconds, her eyes closed, her mouth open
and gasping hard, she whispered "Okay, now."  A half dozen more
hard thrusts and my balls let loose.  I held my cock in as deep
in as it would go, every muscle of my body tense and hard as she
clamped her legs around my hips, arched up and let out a soft
scream.  After a couple of moments, she brought her legs down and
squeezed them together, holding my cock in as we rested, my head
on her shoulder, my lips gently kissing her neck and cheek.

"Oh my god, that felt good," she whispered after we had lain
quietly for a few minutes.

"Oh yeah?  How's this feel?" I asked as I tweaked one of her
nipples.

"Yiieee!  Don't do that!"

"That tickle?" I asked, tweaking again.

"Yes!  Stop that!" she squealed, squeezing her arms around me and
laughing.  The laughter from both of us subsided after a couple
of minutes.  She was gently crying again.

"Thank you," she whispered, cradling my head in her hands as she
kissed me softly.  My dick fell out, having shrunk back to it
normal flaccid length.  I rolled off to her side but still held
her in my arms as she slid back down to me and pulled the blanket
up onto the two of us.

"Get some sleep," I whispered.  "We're going to be busy later
today."

*****

We woke again around 9.  After a long shower, in which we took
our time thoroughly washing each other, we spent the rest of the
day preparing food I could take with me that wouldn't spoil too
quickly and filled a back pack with it, along with one large
bottle of water.  My plan was to get more water along the way. 
After a large dinner, we lay quietly on the bed and I outlined my
plan for the morning.

"After you kiss me goodbye at the door, I want you to get in the
van.  I'll direct the next woman to the bedroom and the driver to
the kitchen.  I'll then take the back pack from the closet and
quickly walk out to the van.  I'll just have to chance it that
the driver leaves the keys in the ignition.  I'm going to pull
you from the van.  I want you to fall and scrape your knees or
hands and pretend you're hurt worse than you are.  But don't
scream or anything. I don't want to attract their attention too
soon.  I'm sorry, it's the only way I can think of that will
delay them.  If they have to help you first, it will give me more
time to get away before they start looking for me."

"I'll do that for you.  I'll tell them I'm pregnant too.  That
should help."

"I hope you are pregnant, really, I do," I replied with a smile.

"Me too," she said, squeezing her chest tightly against mine.

"Let's get some sleep," I said, interlacing her fingers in mine
and kissing her gently on the lips.

"Not yet.  I want to try something first, something I've never
done before.  Lie on your back and spread your legs."  I did as
requested, a big grin on my face.

She lay down between my legs, smiled up at me and started to
giggle as she hovered over my cock head, teasing it with her
fingers, her breath warming the saliva left behind by her tongue.
As soon as I was hard, which only took a few moments, she
engulfed my cock head with her mouth.  After bobbing up and down
for a couple of minutes, she paused, wet a finger and slid it
into my ass.  A loud gasp escaped my mouth.  Massaging my
prostate, she went back to sucking my cock head, her other hand
occasionally massaging my balls.  I smiled again and closed my
eyes, enjoying the wet sensations, my finger tips lightly stoking
her hair.  She paused five minutes later, when I still hadn't
come.

"This is taking awhile," she whispered with a giggle.  "Am I
doing it right?"

"Oh yeah, you're definitely doing it right.  You drained me
earlier, remember?  It feels good, really good.  Don't stop."

After another five minutes, my hips were jerking, my breaths were
sharp as the pressure in my balls grew.  She smiled, pressed
harder with the finger in my ass and squeezed hard with her
mouth.

"Oh god, here it comes," I muttered.  A few short squirts hit the
roof of her mouth.  She pulled off, leaving her finger in my ass,
still wiggling it around.

"Hum, not bad.  A little salty and a little bitter."

"Give me a taste," I implored.  Still with her finger in my ass,
she slid up and tongued my waiting mouth.

"You're right.  Not bad.  But not as bad as that stuff a woman
cooked for me a few months ago."  Our chuckles turned into
laughs, which soon became hysterical laughter.  After we calmed
down, we rested a bit, took another shower and then kissed and
caressed for another thirty minutes.  We slept soundly for nearly
nine hours.

*****

The plan worked perfectly.

"I'm sorry about this," I whispered as I opened her door and
yanked her from the seat.  I pulled a bit too hard, but she
played her part well.  She grimaced as she scraped her hand,
knees and her forehead, but mouthed the words 'thank you' as I
drove away.

A full tank of gas got me well out of the city and up into the
foothills.  I abandoned the van, not that I had a choice.  There
wasn't any gas this far out of the city.  I started walking,
still heading northeast, sleeping in rundown, abandoned homes at
night.  My food ran out after a week, but I managed to find some
fruit trees and berry bushes along the way.  After what seemed
like a month of walking, I was awakened one morning by a sharp
poke in the back.  I was startled to find a rifle barrel in my
face when I rolled over.

"Who are you?" the female gun holder asked.

"Who the hell are you?"

"I have the gun.  I ask the questions.  You answer.  Who are you
and what are you doing here?"

"My name's Caleb.  I left Sacramento about a month ago.  The RC
was going to lock me up, so I left."

"What did you do to deserve prison?" she asked, pointing the gun
at my forehead.

"Nothing!  I can father kids, girls and boys.  The boys are still
alive.  They were going to lock me up, to keep me safe, so I
left."

"Boys too?" she asked, pulling the gun back and sitting down, but
keeping the gun aimed at my chest.

"Yes, girls and boys.  Who are you and why do you have a gun?"

"My name's Carrie.  I live in a colony on the other side of the
hills behind you.  The gun is for mountain lions and bears. 
You're lucky they haven't eaten you for dinner.  Come with me." 
Slinging her rifle, she offered me her hand and pulled me up.

"Lions and bears?  I'm a city boy.  I didn't know."  She just
smiled and led the way.

Cresting the last hill, we looked down on a walled compound of
several dozen acres.  She pointed out some of it amenities.

"On the far side is the windmill farm and solar panels for our
electricity.  Over there is the farm, mostly vegetables and some
chickens for eggs and meat.  And in the middle you can see our
town and church and our homes."

Once inside the front gate, we were met by about a dozen others.

"This is Caleb," Carrie said.  "He can father girls and boys." 
To my surprise, everyone's face lit up.  A woman stepped forward
and took my hand.

"Nice to meet you, Caleb.  My name's Lisa.  I'm sort of the mayor
of our little community.  This is Paul, our doctor and Larry, our
sheriff."  I was introduced to others as well and shook the hand
of each.

"You're all so thin," I remarked.  "The women, I mean."  Paul's
expression suddenly got serious.

"Caleb, how many children have you fathered?"

"About fifty girls and fifty boys, over about the past four and a
half years, I guess."

"And the mothers.  They were all heavy set?"

"Mostly.  Not some of the first ones, but in the past three years
or so, they were all heavy.  Why?"

"I'm sorry, Caleb," Paul said.  "Your daughters will survive, not
that it will do them any good, but your sons will die when they
reach puberty."  My look of confusion and horror apparently
prompted Lisa to put her hand on my shoulder and gently squeeze.
Paul continued.

"The Red Death killed a lot of people, but it didn't stop there.
The residual effect of the virus was to inhibit mitosis in men,
preventing them from forming viable sperm.  But it also slowly
altered the X chromosomes in women.  It makes the women who carry
it hungry all the time and screws up the hormone balance when
boys reach puberty.  Your son's bodies will attack themselves as
they fight over whether they're male or female.  It will kill
them.  I'm sorry.  Your sons will die.  And without boys growing
into men, your daughters will die as obese, old spinsters, never
able to bear viable sons.  I'm sorry."

"Susan," I whispered.

"Who's Susan?" Carrie asked.

"The last woman I was with.  The woman who helped me escape.  She
so much wanted to have a son."  I was overwhelmed with a strong
sense of despair.  "Then it was all a waste," I whispered, my
eyes filling with tears.  "All of it.  The entire four and a half
years.  A complete waste!"

"But your life won't be wasted here," Lisa said in a firm tone of
voice, her hand firmly gripping my upper arm.  "Tell him Paul."

"As far as we can tell," Paul continued, "the original virus is
gone.  It exists now only as residual alteration of the X
chromosome in the women and boys and girls who carry it.  The
society and the government who created the RC will be gone in
another ten to twenty years.  But we are free of the altered
genes.  You can start fresh with us.  It would be nice to have
another one or two like you, but with your addition to our gene
pool, I think we can make it now.  We should have the necessary
genetic diversity to rebuild.  I think we can rebuild, repopulate
like the RC intended, but without the malicious authoritarian
government that came with it."

I was still trying to comprehend it all when Lisa spoke up again.

"Carrie, go tell the other women to meet in the Family Center at
noon.  We have a home for you Caleb.  We can get you settled in
right away."

"I don't want to be alone," I said sharply, almost frantic with
apprehension.

"No, Caleb, no," Carrie said soothingly, taking my hand.  "You
won't be alone.  We have more women here than men, but each man
has three or four wives and each woman has two or three husbands.
It's to diversify our gene pool.  You won't be alone.  The
husbands and wives share a house together, live together, work
together, raise the children together.  You won't be alone."

Just then, a loud chorus of high pitched voices filled the air
behind me.  I turned to see nearly two dozen children running
from a building into a play ground area.

"Children," I whispered in amazement, just before my eyes began
to fill with tears again.

"Caleb?" Carrie asked, looking at my eyes, still holding my hand.

"Children," I repeated.  "I've never seen children before, not
since I was little, I mean, and never my own," I whispered, as a
tear slid down my cheek.  She nodded and squeezed my hand harder.
"Can I watch them play, just for awhile?" I asked Lisa, who was
now standing by my side.

"Of course you can," she replied with a smile, squeezing my upper
arm.  "Take as long as you like."

I sat down on a bench near the play ground and smiled and laughed
at their running and yelling and chasing.  After a couple of
minutes, three of them approached me.  The others soon followed.

"My name's Marissa," one of the girls said.  "What's yours?"

"My name's Caleb."

"Caleb is a name from the Bible," said another girl.  "He was
brave and strong.  You don't look very strong."

"No, I suppose not.  I haven't eaten in awhile."

"You should go to my house," one of the boys chimed in.  "My
mother's name is Anna.  She's a good cook.  She'll cook you a
good meal."

"I'll do that."

"Are you a new dad?" another boy asked.

"Maybe.  I don't know yet.  I just got here.  I don't know the
rules yet."

"Will you push me on the swing?" a little girl asked.

"Of course I will," I replied, standing as she took my hand.

"Me too," said another.  "Me too," said a third.

"Carrie," I heard Lisa say behind me as we walked over to the
swings, "Call everyone together, not just the women, for 1
o'clock meeting at the Family Center, to meet the new dad."


  
Children