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Message-ID: <61707asstr$1321279801@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Sterling Smith <sterling27@live.com>
Importance: Normal
Subject: {ASSM} Dear Women, Dumb Girls (Mf mf het cons preg oral group inc fath daugh SciFi)
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Date: Mon, 14 Nov 2011 09:10:01 -0500
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Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
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Author: Sterling
Title: Dead Women, Dumb Girls
Summary: In a worldwide calamity, all the women die and the girls
become profoundly retarded. They still respond sexually, however,
and it is one of the few joys they have in life. Men find they
can deal.
Codes: Mf mf het cons preg oral group inc fath daugh SciFi PostApoc

NOTICE:  This story contains explicit sex.

First posted 7/28/2011.

I'm always eager for comments, whether good, bad or mixed.
Comments to sterling27@live.com.

I have written many other stories and they can all be found at
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Sterling/

You are welcome to copy this story if you include the entire text
unchanged, including this notice.  If you tell me where you have
re-posted it, I can enjoy knowing it is appreciated and perhaps
enjoy the feedback the story gets where you re-post it.

Sterling

And now, our feature presentation.  Enjoy!

============================================================
Dead Women, Dumb Girls

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.

---------------------------------------------------------

The next day all the girls arrived at his house.

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.

He made a plan.

---------------------------------------------------------

"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.

"Sure, I'll bring her back inside."

---------------------------------------------------------

"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.

============================================================
Seventeen Years Later

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
didn�ft 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?

Nothing, he finally decided. Nothing at all.

============================================================

What did you think? I'm always eager for comments, whether
positive, negative or mixed. Comments to sterling27@live.com.


 		 	   		  
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