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The Future Isn't What It Used To Be

"What might seem like the perfect situation really isn't."

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I am leaving this record for the future. I imagine that people in the future might imagine that life right after The Plague was much different than it was.

But since I am writing for the future, let me explain what The Plague was. It was a disease that reached pandemic proportions, in the year 20XX, and which targeted almost solely males, with a mortality rate well over 90%. Women were mostly unaffected by the disease, though many also lost their lives in the social upheaval. My family is gone. I was a student at a university in a bigger city when the disease came. I actually don't remember too much about my life before those times, I was in a coma for six months, and my younger life is somewhat hazy.

I am male, and I have "inherited" close to one hundred women, which is the current gender ratio in the world. This might bring up images of me as a rough and manly ruler, with hordes of simpering women surrounding my throne, with me roughly seizing them and using them whenever I feel the need. And that is what I have come to correct.

During my time of sickness, the chief nurse of the University Hospital became my caregiver. She was quite a good nurse, and I am glad that she was there, because it was she who helped me survive. Her name is Michelle, and she is in her late 30s, with thick black wavy hair, a bit heavyset, and very bossy. As I was recovering, she gently broke the news to me of how much things had changed. And then one day she said she had the final tests to give me, a routine physical, followed by her taking out my penis and masturbating me to orgasm. At the time I remember being a little surprised as I looked at the face of the normally businesslike nurse and seeing how much she was enjoying the task, especially when my sperm erupted. The whole thing would have shocked me, but given the destruction of the world I had known, getting a handjob from Michelle wasn't that big of a deal.

Later that day she returned, took off her pants, unceremoniously mounted me, and rode me to an orgasm in a few moments. And then she told me what my future would be like. Civilization had broken, the human race was in danger, and it was my job to help things recover. I would have to breed many women. Looking at the satiated form of the older woman next to me, I could see some benefits to this arrangement.

But like I said, its not me sitting around on a throne with women in silky outfits sighing by my feet. For one thing, the women who survive have very busy lives trying to repair the infrastructure that fell apart during The Plague. Usually they show up in their work clothes, speedily remove them, and then we quickly have sex, after which they leave. And I can't just pick a girl out at random and drag her off by her hair...Michelle and a team of other nurses have a complicated table of ovulation times, so who I have sex with is carefully regulated.

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Also, I am not allowed to have any type of ejaculation that won't result in an impregnation. My sperm is too precious to be wasted, of course. And I also am pretty tightly curtailed in what I do in general. I don't want to get hurt or kidnapped, so I am only allowed on and around the grounds of the hospital, always escorted by two bigger women.

As far as my impregnation efforts go, I have had some success. The medical people believe that The Plague might have had some lasting effects, because after several years of almost constant sex, I've only managed to get 17 women pregnant. The children aren't really "mine", either, they are raised communally. The women are still trying to figure out just what to tell the children and when. Also, only three of them so far have been male: there might be a lasting gender disparity, although I hope things aren't quite so disjointed for the next generation of males.

Most of the women have paired off into couples, and sexually and romantically are attached to each other. My role in their sex lives is strictly biological. And again, this isn't as thrilling as it would seem, because its not like the girls have a chance to dress up in pink nighties and roll around on the floor tickling each other.

Sometimes the sex is thrilling, though... a few of the women seem to actually like me, and to get excited about sex. Sometimes during the middle of "chore" sex, one becomes really excited and starts really ravishing me, not just waiting for my sperm to get deposited in her. It sounds kind of silly, but with a harem of a hundred women to fuck, I actually have a shy crush on some of them, and am working up the nerve to get a girlfriend. Ridiculous, I know.

Michelle is still the queen of the hive, and schedules herself for more than the usual amounts of visits. She has a wild side that she doesn't show in her role as administrator. For one thing, she sometimes breaks her own rules and performs oral sex on me. I think it makes her feel special to get to waste my precious sperm by swallowing it. Of course, Michelle does want to get pregnant too. I think she is starting to get annoyed that I've managed to impregnate her best friend and her sister, but have had no luck with her. There is something about her authority that makes me eager to please her.

So that is the real record of how things are in the post-apocalypse. Perhaps, though, it is better that future generations not know this, and imagine me as a brave bare chested barbarian, going out and hunting for nubile young women to conquer so that I can save the human race.
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Written by thirdislander
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