Becoming a Man in Appa
A Circuit Girls Story

Chapter 1

Miss Lane was outside again! Last time, when she had been hanging her laundry to dry, it had taken John several painful minutes to be free from his erection. Now here she was again, this time kneeling in her garden and singing softly to herself. There's nothing in the world like the way a skirt hangs on a woman's hips, he mused. It made him want to..., well, he wasn't sure exactly what. He knew the theory behind sex, of course, but many of the specifics were still a mystery to him. It involved him and her naked, and his penis, he was quite sure.

That could never happen, of course. If anyone even suspected the thoughts in his head, or saw the bulge in his pants, they would think John a monster. Miss Lane and John belonged to the same village. Sex with people from your village was an abominable, irresponsible, criminal act. There was definitely something wrong with him.

John moved to the other side of the fence he was building for her, facing away from the house so he wouldn't have to see her. He tried to focus on his work, and for a little while, he succeeded. He was nearly ready to drive the next post when he heard a girl's voice behind him.

"Mom says I should hold that for you while you hammer it in," Miss Lane's daughter told him. He looked back to see Miss Lane smiling and waiving at the two of them, pleased that they were working together.

Cathy wasn't like Miss Lane - she wasn't a woman yet. She was a couple years younger than John, probably not even capable of conceiving a child yet. But still, despite with her girlish face and singsong voice, Cathy's body was beginning to blossom. Her skirt, too, had a little bit of that magical shape to it. As she leaned forward to hold the post for him while he swung the sledge, he could see down the front of her blouse, spying little round mounds with little candy-shaped nipples. In a few short years, some lucky guy in another city would be doing things to Cathy that drove John mad to think about.

With the post in place, John needed an escape. "I'm just going to go take a break by the river for a couple of minutes if that's okay with you, ma'am," he yelled to Miss Lane.

"Okay, take your time," his neighbor yelled back.

"Want me to come with you?" Cathy offered.

"Oh, no, thanks," John declined. He definitely did not want her with him. He needed to be alone. He needed to take care of his problem.

Cathy stared at him for a moment, in the way girls do. She was an enigma - young or old, he never knew what girls were thinking. "Okay!" She said playfully and wandered toward her mother's garden.

Deep among the trees, John sighed as he lowered his pants and took hold of his cock. He leaned against a sturdy oak and slid his hand up and down, giving himself relief and pleasure. It was a risk, but he didn't care. He couldn't imagine the shame he'd suffer if anyone ever saw him doing this. But it felt too good. And he needed to be free of this frustration, or he would probably end up losing a finger to a work accident.

He closed his eyes and thought about Miss Lane. He imagined her dress falling down and burying his face in her bosom. He tried to erase her face while he stroked himself blissfully: it wasn't a neighbor whose body he was claiming, but some circuit girl visiting from another town - someone he was allowed to have sex with. He couldn't do it though: try as he might, it was Miss Lane's large round breast he was tasting, and Miss Lane's curvy hips he was grabbing hold of.

He stroked faster. Now it was Cathy's face he was kissing, and her little breast filling up his hand. Now it was Cathy's light fluffy bush greeting his hand as it slid down between her legs.

He squeezed harder. Now it was his sister Tessie on the bed, naked, looking at him longingly as he took position on top of her. No, now it was Brigitte, her big beautiful eyes smiling at him while his cock slid into her wet tight pussy....

John came with a groan. Relief hit him like a sack of wheat while he painted the tree with his sticky white secretions. He kept thinking he was done but then his dick would muster one more spurt - tiny toward the end, but enough to make mess if he wasn't careful. Finally he wiped his dick with a leaf and pulled his clothes back on.

Tomorrow, John noted to himself, he should find a private spot and do this before coming to work.

John didn't go straight home: he stopped by town square first. Four foreign girls and their chaperones had just gotten off their truck, and were talking with members of the local Future Generations Council. The girls were travelling a circuit: stopping at several towns, taking sex partners in each, and trying to become pregnant.

"Where are these ones from?" Eddy, John's best friend, asked in his soft voice, appearing beside him.

"Crater, I think," John replied. "I think I remember the symbol on that truck from when I was there."

Two of the girls chose immediately. They had been here before, and they knew who they wanted to mate with. Not surprisingly, it was two of the regulars: older boys, good looking, and rich enough to have nice clothes. The Council members pointed to the boys that the visiting girls had requested, and they came running up. After a few brief words the couples disappeared to begin their lustful evenings.

Two girls were still being interviewed - there was still hope. Every town did it differently, but here in Appa, a Council member would ask each visiting circuit girls what what sort of man she was looking for, and then call on three to five locals from which she could choose. So far in his life, John had never been chosen.

"Why are foreign girls so pretty?" John asked with obvious frustration.

Eddy pondered the question for a moment. "I think our girls are just as pretty when they dress up for circuits. We're just used to seeing them in work clothes," he answered.

That seemed reasonable. But at the same time, John wondered if Eddy actually understood female beauty. Eddy was a malbred - a child whose sire was from the same town as his mother. As with all malbred boys, he had been castrated as a baby - a necessary precaution against further damage to the town's gene pool. Eddy couldn't possibly understand the longing that girls stirred in him.

Council member Miss Melanie had made her decision; her youngest daughter Alice ran gleefully away to fetch the boys Melanie had selected for her guest. John had chosen a conspicuous place from which to watch, just like a couple dozen other boys. If anyone were looking for him, he would have been easy to find. It was quickly obvious that he wasn't among the chosen.

The final Council member, too, dispatched a helper to round up the desired type of boy. Soon the two undecided foreign girls were surrounded by the usual bunch of young men, being flattered and wooed, and fed drinks.

Their chaperones weren't paying much attention. That was a mistake. When John had been a circuit chaperone, the senior boy Dylan had made it clear that he needed to be constantly alert - sizing up suitors, certainly, but also the surroundings. Protecting his charge had been a matter of deadly seriousness.

The circuit girls made their choices from the boys before them. The circle of spectating Appa boys, sitting on fences and leaning against store fronts, scattered like a murder of crows.

"Better luck next time," Eddy told John.

"Thanks," John answered. "I must have done something to make the Council hate me. They never pick me."

"At least they probably hate you less than Kevin Shepherd," Eddy mused while the two started walking toward John's house.

"What makes you say that?" John asked.

"He was goofing off at the garage - broke a bunch of stuff and almost lost a tire. They're going to have to send the green truck out on tomorrow's circuit instead of the brown one. He was supposed to be a chaperone but he busted up his ankle."

John's face flashed instant focus. "Wait, so you mean they're down a chaperone?"

"Yeah, I think so," Eddy answered. John swiftly changed direction and sped to a fast walk. "Why? What's the big deal?" Eddy asked.

"If there's a chaperone slot, I want it!" John said, switching to a jog.

"Is this about 'chaperone blowjobs'?" Eddy asked dismissively.

"Yes!" John answered definitively.

John almost plowed into Councilman Oscar, he was so eager. "I volunteer to be a chaperone!" John blurted out. The Councilman smiled and slowly turned his attention to the boy. "I heard there was a shortage," John added.

Oscar glanced at Eddy knowingly. Eddy had a knack for always hearing everything going on in town. "Thank you for your eagerness, John, but it hasn't been that long since you last served. I would hate for you to fall behind in your studies."

"I'm ahead of my class in Writing and Civics!" John insisted. "I'm a little behind in History, but I swear I can catch up. I'll study on the truck!"

Oscar smiled an old man's smile fully of memories. "Well, this might actually work out for the best. Meet the others tomorrow at dawn. You'll be away for three nights."

"Thank you sir!" John gushed. "I promise to serve my charge diligently! Um, who is my charge, anyway?"

"Miss Schumacher," the Councilman answered with a grin. Miss Schumacher was John's teacher.

Chapter 2

The expedition embarked the following morning without any special ceremony. The green truck was crowded for six people, their baggage, and the radio and spare fuel, but everyone seemed happy about the trip and the weather was excellent.

Vic was the senior chaperone - a man in his late twenties with a pointy beard. He decided that he would be the keeper of the rifle. That wasn't how they'd done it the last time John went on circuit. Back then, Dylan had given the rifle to John, figuring that the youngest and smallest would need it most.

Henry was the middle chaperone - a few years older than John. He had been on circuit with John last time, too. His sister Brigitte was one of the prettiest girls in town. John had been the lucky recipient of Brigitte's first ever blowjob.

Miss Schumacher - Caroline - was in her mid-twenties. She had four kids at home already but was eager to have at least one more before it was too late. Her deep brown hair was always done up in a bun at school, but today it split on her shoulders, half on her back and half tickling the top of her cleavage.

Erica and Abby were the town's only twins, although you wouldn't know it to look at them. Erica was three inches taller than her sister: broad-shouldered and athletic. Abby, on the other hand, gave the impression of being fragile. This was both fifteen year olds' first circuit, and their prime uncle Vic was determined to make sure it went smoothly.

Miss Schumacher, always a teacher, spent the morning and afternoon teaching John and the twins history: specifically about the Age of Scavenging at the end of the Bunker Era. After several generations of surviving below ground, the machines began to fail. The men and women who managed to find what their communities needed to survive were remembered as heroes - even when those boons were taken from other bunkers by force or duplicity. Too often, bunkers couldn't find what they needed, and their people were forced to move to the still hostile surface. Occasionally, entire bunkers went extinct when their scouts inadvertently brought home some sort of contaminant.

It didn't feel like school - John found himself engrossed in the stories and much more receptive to the lessons than he ever did in the classroom. Being out in the fresh air helped. From time to time his mind drifted to sex, like it always had in the classroom. This time when he fantasized about Miss Schumacher, it was punctuated by the knowledge that, in a few hours, she would be giving him his chaperone blowjob - unless for some reason she asked Erica or Abby to do it instead. The conversational nature of the lesson kept his daydreams in check, and he was always able to hide his erections.

In the early evening, the truck stopped; they radioed their position back to Appa, and discussed their meeting plans if the group somehow got separated. Then it was time for the chaperone blowjobs.

"Does anyone have any questions about why we do this?" Miss Schumacher asked, spreading out a ground cloth.

"So the men aren't too sexually frustrated to concentrate, so we can protect you," Henry volunteered.

"Good!" Miss Schumacher said. She guided John to lie down on the blanket.

"And as a bonding exercise," Erica stated. "To build trust and, er, community."

"Yes. I think you've all got it," Miss Schumacher told the group.

Miss Schumacher helped lower John's pants; his dick sprung free from his underwear a moment later. All the while as she bent and tugged at his underwear, it seemed as though her boobs were on the verge of spilling out the top of her dress. Then, on her elbows and knees between his legs, she lowered her mouth to John's solid cock, and his body was shocked by the sudden pleasure: warm, soft, wet, and stimulating. Her head bobbed up and down, jolting him, twisting him up inside, forcing good feelings on him. On each of her down-strokes, he could see past her head and shoulders to her ass sticking into the air. Her waist, accentuated by a red sash, was narrow, but then her hips, draped by a green skirt, widened to the perfect size. Wide enough to deliver a baby, for sure, but more importantly, wide enough for a man to mount, and to fuck and fuck and fuck.

Miss Schumacher was surprised when John began ejaculating, but she didn't lose any of his seed, and she didn't stop until she had sucked away every last drop his balls could produce.

After taking a moment to clear his head, John looked around. Vic's blowjob hadn't begun yet. He was sitting on a rock with his pants around his ankles. Erica was sitting next to him, stroking his cock with her hand, while they both watched Abby and Henry. Erica had Vic's shaft gripped in the middle, and it seemed to John that there was room for another whole hand on the thing in either direction.

Abby was sitting with her legs beneath her and her hands in her lap, sucking on Henry's dick. He stood in front of her, looking down at her kindly, touching her head and softly giving her encouragement. John had always thought that Abby's eyes looked sad, but just then, looking up at Henry's face with his cock in her mouth, her eyes were wide with hope. Her back was completely straight and her fine mahogany hair followed it down to her waist. She seemed to be completely still except for the muscles of her jaw and throat.

"Almost there. Use your hand, okay?" Henry advised.

Abby moved a fist to his shaft and jerked while she sucked, and then Henry groaned three times. His head rolled back on his shoulders.

"That was really good," he told her after she let his dick fall, and wiped the corner of her mouth with her hand.

At that point, Erica was just moving into position to fellate her prime uncle. Bent at the waist and braced against Vic's thighs, her body rocked while she moved her mouth all over the man's hard meat. "That's it, baby girl, just like that," Vic told her appreciatively. He gathered her hair - brown but with a few bleached highlights - in his fist and held it above her.

Even though John's dick was safely packed away in his pants, and recently discharged, it stiffened as he watched Erica's skirt swaying below her jiggling ass. She was standing up - her hips were at just the right height. He could imagine walking up behind her, lifting her skirt, and stuffing her baby-tunnel with his stiffness. People sometimes did it like that, he had been assured, although not while the girl was giving a blowjob to another man, of course.

To make matters worse, the display showed no signs of ending, so Abby and Miss Schumacher began whispering about the fine points of the copulation she would be experiencing later in the evening.

Finally, it looked like things were coming to a finish. "Just like that, niece. Yeah. Your mother prepared you well," Vic muttered. He reached past her arm and below her body, giving her tit a squeeze just before grunting and contorting.

Erica stood up and then sat on Vic's thigh, wrapping her arms around him. He kissed her on the cheek.

That night, in Marley, Miss Schumacher had sex with two different men. According to Marley's tradition, foreign circuit girls were to assemble at the ruins after dark, take their pick from the men and boys waiting there, and fuck them, on the spot. The ruins were large and open - there was no privacy. Tactically speaking, John had no choice but to watch his teacher in the act: there was no way he could monitor all angles of approach while respecting her modesty.

The bald man with the short beard stripped Miss Schumacher naked and then bent her over a smooth piece of marble, covered with a blanket from the basket at the the ruins entrance. After a few minutes of warmup, she moaned nearly continuously while her partner banged her without any variation for half an hour. Every once in a while her butt cheeks would clench, and a colorless liquid would trickle down her thigh.

John witnessed several other acts of copulation as well. A now naked Abby, some distance away, began her defloration with gritted teeth and whimpers. Henry watched cautiously from a few feet away. Before long, Abby was panting and grinning with delight. At the end, her lover was standing, with her tiny body clinging to his front. His hands on her ass and her legs around his waist worked together to bounce her up and down on his pole. They were so vigorous that he slipped out mid-ejaculation and covered her lower body with sticky come.

Miss Schumacher and John went to sleep after her first coupling. The inn rooms had all been taken by trekkers from other towns, so the ruins were the only place in town they could stay. Most activity had died down by then. After a short sleep, they woke up when their space was invaded by a man. He was tall, with wild hair and a scruffy patch of hair on his chin. He was naked, swinging a long hard cock proudly beneath him. John scrambled to his feet, standing ready with his hand on the pommel of his knife. The wild man stood there, without saying a word, staring at Miss Schumacher expectantly. After maybe thirty seconds, she nodded, cast the blanket away from her naked body, and spread her legs for him.

He didn't bring his cock into play right away. At first when he climbed on top of her, he spend a good amount of time biting the meat of her lovely soft boobs. She seemed to like it, and his fingers found their way into her cunt, making vigorous wet sounds. Once he did mount her properly and begin drilling her, her moans weren't constant. Mostly she was quiet, but twice her voice rose from nothing to give thanks to god while she came. She gripped him tightly each time, with her arms and legs.

John stood at attention the whole time. He desperately needed relief. His cock ached. Need permeated his body. But he was her protector. He stood his post.

Once the man was gone and Miss Schumacher had covered herself once more with a blanket, John lay down for sleep, inching as close to her naked fertile body as he dared.

Chapter 3

Both of the twins were quiet, but seemed in a good mood, as they began their voyage in the morning. "So, um, did you ladies have fun last night?" John asked.

The two girls glanced at each other, and then at him, before breaking out into fits of giggling. The giggling was followed by whispering with each other, to the exclusion of all else. That continued until Miss Schumacher finally found a lesson that captured their interest: different sexual behaviors throughout all of history.

"I can't believe they would actually do that!" Abby professed after Miss Schumacher told them about women taking pills to prevent pregnancy, in the Information Age of the Before-Bunker era.

"Well, you have to understand that humans were more fertile back then," Miss Schumacher explained. "A woman could give birth to a healthy baby well into her forties. And many women were having sex with someone they lived in the same house with - sometimes every day. If she didn't take steps to prevent it, a woman could have twelve or more children in her lifetime - sometimes more than her family could support."

"Why didn't they just stop having sex?" John asked. Erica and Abby broke out into another round of giggles, making John feel foolish.

"That's... a difficult part of human nature to deny," Miss Schumacher explained. "Keep in mind, too, that the world was pretty crowded - some of their cities had millions of people! There wasn't much of a sense that the world needed more people. The reality that we live with - that the human race could become extinct - was unthinkable to most of them."

"Hmph. Idiots," Erica said.

When the truck stopped in the late afternoon for chaperone blowjobs, the twins fell to fighting.

"I want to do Uncle this time!" Abby insisted.

"He's my chaperone - go take care of your own!" Erica protested.

"Yeah but he's my Uncle, just like you! I should get a turn!"

John lost track of the argument there, when his mind began to drown in the wet sucking bliss his cock was feeling. For a short time, there was nothing but pleasure in the world. That feeling ended, but in the best possible way as he pumped gobs of semen into Miss Schumacher's mouth, encouraged by her gentle sucking and swallowing.

The girls were still arguing when John was done, so a smiling Miss Schumacher beckoned to Henry and prepared him for his guard duty by relieving his sexual tension.

The rest of the trip to Walmer was spent in silence, Erica looking smug and Abby sour.

After meeting with the Walmer Future Generations Council, the Appa girls and their chaperones were set free to wander the city at their leisure. The ribbons they were asked to wear around their necks attracted men like fish to lures. Each tried, through conversation or some physical stunt, to impress the girls enough to be chosen.

Both Miss Schumacher and Erica went home with sons of the town's richest family, to what could only be described as a mansion. Vic and John stood in the same hall outside the bedrooms while wails and grunts of satisfied coupling emanated from within. A servant gave them tea while they waited. At one point, Erica's orgasmic cries stopped, followed by the scraping sound of furniture being moved. A thumping sound began, and she moaned with even more enthusiasm. Once the copulation was finished, the girls and chaperones were invited stay at the house overnight - a luxury compared to the Future Generations Hostel where they would normally expect to stay.

Chapter 4

The following morning, when the travellers met at the truck, it was obvious that Henry had been in a fight. His shirt was ripped, his cheek and arm were bruised, his knuckles were raw, and the knife was missing from his belt.

"What happened!?" Vic asked accusingly.

"Some guys were hassling us. I handled it," Henry said stoically.

"Explain," Vic insisted.

Henry glanced at Abby before answering. "After Abby told them she wasn't interested, two guys started following us. They were calling us names and being disparaging toward Appa. Getting in our way. We ignored them as best we could until one of them grabbed her breast. I took him out quick - slammed his head into a post. He was crawling around dizzy the whole time after that. The other one put up a good fight until the sheriff arrived and broke it up."

"At the end, Henry was on top of him hitting him in the face over and over," Abby added happily.

"Why didn't you use your knife?" Vic asked critically.

"There were other locals nearby: three men and two women," Henry explained. "They had seemed to disapprove of their kin's treatment of us. I thought they might help us. I was worried that they would go against us if I used lethal force."

"Then what happened to your knife?" Vic fumed.

"The sheriff confiscated it."

"And you let him?"

"Yes sir," Henry answered.

Vic paced, seething, before talking again. He pointed his finger in Henry's face. "The next time someone assaults my niece, I expect you to cut their fucking throats. Understand?!"

"Yes sir," Henry answered, this time with a hint of defiance.

"Stay right here," Vic told them all, and briskly walked away.

After a moment of silence, Miss Schumacher put a hand on Abby's arm. "What happened after the fight? Were you okay?"

Abby nodded. "I was really scared at first and everyone was watching us. We went to the bar and had some beer. But then everyone was really nice. People were congratulating Henry. Definitely nobody was going to try anything with him around! And one of the local boys was really cute. He took me home and made me feel really good. I feel like he probably put a baby in me. Then Henry and I spent the night at the hostel."

"I'm glad." Miss Schumacher chose her next words carefully. "Henry, Vic is the senior chaperone, and what he says goes. But..., I think you handled things exceptionally well."

Vic returned. He handed Henry his knife. "Don't lose it again," he said.

A mid-day summer rain turned into a heavy thunderstorm by late afternoon. Vic stopped the truck to issue orders. "Girls, I want you up front with me. We're not going to have time for chaperone blowjobs, so we'll just have to deal with it."

Erica and Abby squeezed into the cab of the truck and Henry joined John and Miss Schumacher in the back. The canopy over the truck bed protected the riders from direct rain, but the wind carried enough to soak them through anyway. The sound of the thunder, rain, engine and mud became enough to cancel any hope of conversation.

Perhaps to fight the chill, Miss Schumacher retrieved a flask from her bag. She offered the strong-smelling drink to Henry and John but they declined, so she sipped from it alone. As the miles went by she kept sipping. Her proper demeanor faded away with some of her balance. The growing rosiness of her cheeks brought with it wanton gleam in her eyes.

After a time, Miss Schumacher's body indicated a moment of decision. Then, she leaned across the duffle bags and began undoing Henry's pants. Henry repositioned himself to help make his cock available to her. She lay awkwardly across the truck's cargo and sucked and licked the teen boy's dick, eventually managing to reach a hand beneath him to fondle his testicles.

The young woman's wet clothes clung tightly to her body, revealing her feminine shape indecently. Her skirt even settled into the crease of her ass, inspiring new lewd fantasies in John's mind. His hand unconsciously rubbed his crotch until he noticed the twin girls watching the show, occasionally wiping the never-ending accumulation of fog from the glass.

Thunder struck at the same instant Henry threw his head back. For a second or two, Miss Schumacher seemed to choke on Henry's load, but then she sat upright with a smile on her face, big stiff nipples showing through the sheer wet fabric of her blouse.

John was unnerved but willing when Miss Schumacher then fumbled around the buttons on his jeans. His teacher's mouth on his cock again felt wonderful, but the noise, the cold, and the unabashed stares troubled him enough that, for the first time in his life, he worried that his erection might fail him.

"Just relax," Henry seemed to say to him, even though he couldn't hear it.

John closed his eyes and tried to follow the older boy's advice. He let everything go except the loving ministrations of a beautiful woman's mouth. It took a while before he was ready to come: his lover was in no rush. And yet, it seemed like he was almost there. It shocked him when she stopped before he finished.

Miss Schumacher changed position, lying on her back, and gestured for John to come to her. It took quite a bit of balance maneuvering his cock to her mouth: leaning across the luggage, crouched and hanging on the canopy, with one leg resting high on the wheel well. For some reason this was what Miss Schumacher wanted, and he wasn't going to give up now.

Instead of taking the head of his cock back into her mouth, Miss Schumacher surprised him again by sucking John's entire scrotum into her mouth. It was a very different experience - nothing like the intensity of a tongue and lips on his crown, but with an erotic power of its own. She poked his balls with her tongue, sucked and massaged them with her cheeks, and tugged with her lips. The novelty was astounding, and John soon found his balls fighting her, pulling away from her mouth, right before he gushed. The first two shots of semen reached from her knees to ribs, but the others pooled around the valley of her cleavage. Some thick globs jiggled on top of little rivers of water flowing down her tits to her neck. Miss Schumacher took care releasing John's sensitive organs from her maw.

The Appa circuit travellers arrived in Crater too late: they had missed the dance at which visiting circuit girls were expected to choose their mates. Their rooms at the circuit dormitory, though, were waiting for them, warm and dry. After giving the Appa girls a chance to change clothes, the Crater Councilwoman introduced them to the volunteers she had managed to scrounge up for them: five tired-looking older men. Only Erica invited one to her bed; the others decided to go straight to bed.

John could faintly hear Henry and Abby talking affectionately in the next room. Later that night, awakened by an insect bite, John could hear a soft feminine vocalization from Abby's room, although he wasn't sure what to make of it.

The weather was clear by morning. Miss Schumacher's attempts to teach history on the trip home were doomed, thanks to a hundred new questions about sex that the Erica and Abby felt no shame about pressing. After finishing off the contents of her flask, Miss Schumacher was talking with them as if she were a teenager herself, sharing in their giggles and innuendo.

When they pulled in to the Appa town square, Brigitte was waiting. She said hi to the twins and then immediately began fussing over her brother's bruised face, acting very much like her mother, Miss Melanie. Abby took the opportunity to share the epic tale of Henry's chivalry. Brigitte noticed the fond looks throughout the story between the distressed damsel and her hero.

John was just about to walk home when Brigitte addressed him. "What about you, John? Did you have a good trip?" It sort of sounded like she was teasing him, but she had a sincere twinkle in her eye. She was probably alluding to the blowjobs. She understood him, he figured, when it came to blowjobs.

"Yeah. It was a good trip," he told her.

"I'm glad!" Brigitte told him with a wink.

Chapter 5

When John returned home his nephew Evan ran out to intercept him. "Uncle John - look at what I can do!" Evan threw three apples in the air, keeping them aloft in a wobbly stream for several seconds.

"Great job, kid!" John encouraged. Evan was only four years younger than John, but since John didn't have any brothers or uncles of his own, he was the only man in the house. It was his responsibility to be a role model to his nephews - to teach them how to be men.

"How was circuit?" John's mother asked.

"Which town had the handsomest men?" His niece Kiki joined in, as if asking about a prince in a fairy tale.

"We got in to Crater too late, so I don't know about them," he answered. "But I guess Walmer. The Marley men seemed a bit... feral." John's two oldest sisters, Edith and Lucy, smiled secretively at each other. Edith had been going on circuits since before he could walk, and Lucy nearly as long.

"It sucks that you have to leave town for stupid girl stuff," Evan opined.

"It's an important responsibility," John's mother explained. John nodded.

"There are some perks," John added.

"Perks that last twenty seconds," Lucy teased. "I hear things," she added.

"I last longer than that!" John insisted.

"Sure you do, Johnjohn," Edith weighed in.

"Mom!" He whined.

"Leave your brother alone, girls," his mother stepped in.

Life went back to normal for John, although he couldn't look at Miss Schumacher the same way any more. Every time she called on him in class, or didn't call on him, he questioned it in the light of their new relationship.

As the days went on, his pubescent sexual frustration returned. Finally he summoned the courage to try to fix the problem. He waited near the schoolhouse until Miss Schumacher was heading home for the evening, and he intercepted her.

"Miss Schumacher," he said courteously as he walked beside her.

"Hello John," she replied fondly.

"So I was wondering if, maybe...," he spoke uncertainly, "we could do the blowjob thing again?"

"No, John," she answered sympathetically. "That's a perk reserved for men who are serving their community as chaperones."

"But, I could do work for you," John suggested. "I could fix things at your house, or, I don't know."

Miss Schumacher stopped walking and faced him. "John, you understand why it has to be this way, don't you?" She asked. "If men and women could meet all of their sexual desires at home, there would be nothing but sick children who grew into sick adults. We have to send girls out on circuits to expand the gene pool. Boys have to be ready to host foreign girls who are sent here for the same reason. Any sexual activity that subverts that plan puts the human race at risk. Society can't allow it."

"I just...," John confessed, "I want it so bad! I know there's something wrong with me. I know I'm not supposed to think these thoughts, but I can't think about anything else!"

She put a hand on his shoulder. "There's nothing wrong with you, John. It's normal. Everybody has those desires, especially at your age. But we have to be stronger than that. Don't worry - you're kind and healthy and handsome. Foreign girls will start noticing you soon."

John nodded, not satisfied with the outcome but accepting it.

Chapter 6

Every third week on Saturday, John's group had militia training. Normally that would have included rifle practice, but there had been some problems restocking the town's ammunition stockpile recently, so they couldn't afford to waste any on training. Instead, in addition to the usual drills, Captain Mosshill had brought in a pig carcass for knife practice. Each boy was given twelve stabs with each hand, to experience the feeling of driving a knife through flesh and bone. John was glad he got to go early - the pig was looking pretty sorry by halfway through the class. He hoped that the next group, next Saturday, would get a new pig.

Most of the day was spent barefoot and shirtless sparring and doing spear drills with the other boys. At 14, John was the youngest in his group; the other boys' height and reach put him at a disadvantage, but he held his own.

A group of pre-teen girls were sitting on a nearby fence as usual, watching and whispering among themselves. Eddy was there, too. Having been castrated before puberty, malbred boys weren't capable of building and retaining muscle like ordinary boys, and they frequently exhibited other frailties. Captain Mosshill saw no sense in wasting resources training them. That didn't make much sense to John: one of the other groups included two girls: sisters whose mother insisted on their training. Eddy probably wasn't much weaker than them. And anyway, even a child could use a rifle effectively.

Alice, well-known helper for the Council, scurried up and spoke to the Captain. He turned to John: "John - you're done. Councilwoman Melanie would like to speak to you."

A wave of ooh's resonated among the audience. Eddy gave John a hopeful thumbs-up while John dressed.

John walked with Alice to the town square. All the while he was puzzling over what Miss Melanie could want with him. It couldn't be to meet a circuit girl - not this early in the day. Plus there hadn't been any news of a visiting delegation. Alice didn't say anything, but she occasionally looked at him with the uncanny expression that pre-teen girls share with cats. He wondered how much longer Alice would be helping her mother with Council business. In a year she would be a teenager. Young girls and old women in Appa were usually quite cordial toward foreign circuit girls, but the teen girls often conspired about them with venomed tongues. John couldn't remember if Brigitte, Miss Melanie's older daughter, had run errands for her before her own step into womanhood.

Miss Melanie was talking to a young woman John had never seen before; her appearance confused him further. She was a teenager, probably - definitely several years older than him. Her hair was light and just long enough to be held in a ponytail. She was wearing pants, not a dress, but a strange sort of pants that ended halfway down her calves. The pants hugged her hips and legs like they were carefully tailored just for her. Her shoes were also nice, but equally unsuited to any sort of work John could envision, which he had thought was the only reason a woman wouldn't wear a dress. The strap of her satchel cut between her breasts, highlighting their modest size but exceptional shape.

"John," Miss Melanie said warmly. "This is Katrina. I wanted her to meet you."

"Hi!" The stranger said. "Nice to meet you!" She extended her hand for him to shake.

"Um, hi," John answered, eventually shaking her hand. This wasn't how things were supposed to go. He was supposed to be wearing nice clothes. There were supposed to be other guys she was meeting at the same time. And where was her chaperone?

"John just came from militia training," Miss Melanie said. "I understand he's becoming quite the marksman."

"Cool," Katrina said politely.

Miss Melanie went on: "Katrina is an apprentice engineer. She's travelling with her mentor while they make purchase arrangements in a number of towns, and she's decided to make a circuit out of it. This is her first stop."

"You must be really smart," he told her, trying to resist the urge to look away.

"Kinda," she said. "Mostly I'm just really good at math." She paced from foot to foot for a moment. "So, um, do you want to do it?"

"Yeah! I do!" John answered. He began working out the logistics in his head. "My house is like two and a half miles away. Some of the little ones will be napping, but I think...."

Miss Melanie cut him off: "Katrina can't stay very long. There should be room at the inn. Tell Walt that I'll be by to pay for your room this afternoon."

John and Katrina began their walk to the inn. After some steps, Katrina took hold of John's hand for the rest of the walk.

"So you've never done this before?" John asked.

"No," she answered. "You?"

John shook his head.

"Well, gotta start somewhere!" She proclaimed.

Alone in the room at the inn, Katrina seemed to consider John for the first time. She touched his face, and then his shoulder. His shirt was in sorry shape, having been torn and mended a number of times. She must have noticed, but she didn't say anything about it.

"So I guess we kiss now?" Katrina suggested.

John agreed, so he stepped closer and applied his lips to hers. She was a little bit taller than him, but their faces fit together well. She moved her hands to the sides of his head, her palms on the close-clipped sides and her fingertips lost in the slightly longer top.

At first he couldn't figure out what to do with his own hands. He wrapped his arms around her and touched her back - that seemed safe, but it didn't seem enough. He also tried her sides and her hips. Somehow, with her mouth - or maybe her whole body - she told him it was okay. She wanted him to touch her. The pressure of her kiss and her hands on his head encouraged him. With bolstered confidence, he moved his hands to her ass. Girls' butts had always looked so soft, but hers was firm. It wasn't hard and gross, but it wasn't fatty like he'd imagined. She had strong muscles there, with only a thin coating of springy skin. She cooed a soft "mmm" of approval.

Abruptly, she stepped out of the kiss and took his shirt from him. Again, she touched him. His chest was mostly hairless and certainly smooth, but with respectable musculature under the surface. Her fingers found a discolored spot on his ribs where another boy had delivered a particularly solid blow earlier that day with a blunted practice spear. Her fingers were delicate, seemingly without any callouses at all.

Katrina then unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down. His underwear, too. His dick was ready, solid, and already dripping pre-come from the tip. It throbbed when she touched it.

She got down on her knees, holding his cock in one hand from the underside. "Like this, right?" She asked. Without waiting for an answer, she fixed her lips on his crown and began stroking his shaft in her fist. Her tongue danced around his tip aimlessly.

It felt good. Fantastic. Too good. "Wait!" He mumbled urgently. "Can you...?"

Katrina understood, and let him go.

"It's just...," he tried to find the words to explain.

"I get it," she said, standing up. "I'm glad you said something. So I guess we're about ready for the big thing?" John nodded.

Katrina took off her blouse, revealing her bare chest. She wasn't wearing a bra, but John wasn't 100% sure he understood what they were about anyway. Her breasts were small, but geometrically perfect: soft lovely domes. They were pure, except for the little dark circles of her areolae, and the tiny nubs of her nipples. John wondered how a baby could feed from such delicate things; he's seen his nieces and nephews as infants, and they had not been gentle.

Katrina's underwear surprised John as much as her pants had. They didn't look like shorts at all - more like a second skin on top of her butt, hips, and private parts. When those came off, John caught sight of her beautiful brown bush. There she was, transformed, naked for him: waist and hips and bush and all. She climbed onto the bed and lay on her back, looking a little nervous.

"Can you please not stare?" She asked.

"Oh!" John answered, feeling embarrassed. He turned around to give her privacy.

"You can look at me. Just not stare, okay?"

John turned around, but found he was having trouble understanding her request.

She let him off the hook. "Come here. We should probably go ahead and do it now." She spread her legs a little to make room for him.

He walked on his knees until he was between her legs. He touched her thighs; they opened for him, but he took his time with them, feeling the soft skin and muscle. He was only barely conscious of her scent, but it affected him strongly.

He moved above her, his locked elbows keeping some distance between them. Meanwhile his knees shuffled around, trying to bring his swaying hard meat into position at her pussy.

Katrina frowned. She squirmed a little, as if trapped. "Do you think maybe you could not be so close?" She asked.

John rose upright. His cock poked at her delicate folds accidentally. "Like this?" He asked.

"Yeah, I think that would be best," she affirmed.

Clearly kissing was out of the question. Touching her breasts would be difficult. He did caress her quivering flat belly, but it quickly seemed to John like there was nothing else to do but just go for it. The tip of his cock snapped into place with a warm wet kiss from her vagina. He tried to push in more, but there was resistance. He looked down at the union of their sex parts, to make sure things were like they were supposed to be. He couldn't find anything amiss.

"Just do it," she told him.

He pushed harder, and then the resistance was gone. She grunted from pain but didn't say anything else. He pushed in more. The smooth flesh of her pussy rubbed his cock head as they slid together. Instinct pressured him to penetrate deeper and stroke faster. The more he fucked her the better it felt. He couldn't stop himself.

Katrina's face was inscrutable, but then, John always had trouble understanding women. She was biting her lip, which, according to talk among men meant that she was enjoying it. If it felt half as good for her as it did for him, she was in heaven.

Katrina's legs were folded beside her belly. John's hands were on her thighs, steadying his upper body while his hips pounced back and forth. He looked at her pretty face, but then got the impression she didn't want him to. Instead his eyes fixed on the rolling motion of her breasts. Their skin slapped together audibly, and sometimes there was a sucking sound. He looked down and watched as his cock disappeared into her. It had a slick wet look, tinted red from her blood. Her lips clung to his cock when he stroked out, and then folded inward when he pushed in.

That's when it happened. He came inside her. His sperm was finally where it was meant to be: an offering made to a young healthy womb where it would help make a baby, if it was worthy. As his spurts grew weaker, John tried to visualize inside her body. He imagined his globules of semen creeping deeper inside her, somehow, and pooling inside the little cavity reserved for embryos.

"Was that okay?" He asked, still in the same position but no longer joined to her.

"I'm just glad it's over," Katrina said.

"Oh," John said. He didn't know what to make of her statement, but it bothered him.

"No, it's not like that," she explained. "I knew it was going to hurt a lot. I just wanted to get it over with, so that hopefully it'll feel good next time."

She seemed to be trying to make him feel better, but it wasn't working.

"That's why I asked for you," she explained. "I told them I wanted someone small, who'd get it done quickly. Someone who wouldn't hurt me." After a moment she added, "You're staring again."

"I'm sorry," John told her. He moved to sit on the edge of the bed with his back to her.

"Look, I really appreciate you doing this with me, John. I think that was, like, the best it could have possibly gone." When John didn't say anything for a while, she told him with a slightly sad voice, "Well, I guess we should probably say goodbye."

John began dressing. "Um, nice meeting you, Miss Katrina. Thank you for, er..., letting me put a baby in you."

She was smiling at him as he left, but he was too distraught to try to figure out what that meant.

Eddy intercepted John as he walked away from the inn. "How was it?"

"I don't want to talk about it," John muttered.

Eddy was undeterred. "Do you want to talk about why you don't want to talk about it?" He asked.

John gave him a challenging look, and then shook his head in defeat. "She hated it. She couldn't wait for it to be over," John explained. "The only reason Miss Melanie picked me is because I've got a small dick and I come too quickly. That's what she told me." John felt a little uneasy complaining about penis size to Eddy, but he supposed it didn't really matter to his friend like it did to him.

"Oh. Well, did you enjoy it?" Eddy asked.

"I mean, it felt good, physically, yeah," John admitted. "But I was supposed to be there for her. I failed her. Within a week every girl in a thousand miles will probably know how bad I was."

Eddy walked with him in silence for a while. It helped. Eddy had that effect on people: just being nearby, even not saying anything, he made them feel better.

Chapter 7

John managed to avoid any awkward conversations with his family for most of the rest of the day, but his mother finally broached the subject once the little kids were all in bed. "I heard you got matched with a circuit girl today," she said with a measure of pride.

"Yeah."

"Well?" She pressed. "Did you and she get along well?"

"It was okay," he said, clearly not wanting to talk about it.

"Well good for you," his mother told him.

"Where was she from?" His youngest sister Tessie asked.

"I don't know," John said.

"Well what was she dressed like?" Lucy said, taking over the questioning. "Was she dressed like a Walmer slut? Or a Marley priss? Venture bitch? Woolton pig-fucker?

"She was wearing pants," John volunteered.

All three of his sisters broke into laughter.

John hesitantly asked: "So... what makes a guy good?"

Lucy was the first to answer. "Well, step number one: be handsome," she told him. "Step number two: well, there's no point in worrying about step number two, is there?"

"Lucy!" Their mother chastised.

Edith continued: "Step number two is to press your body close to hers, hold her tight, and drill her like a steam engine for hours and hours!" Her body became animated as she continued, "Oh! Mmm! Yes! YES!" Lucy joined Edith's mock climaxes.

John walked out the door to take a walk in the moonless night. He heard his mother through the first several paces: "Girls that was horrible! You know he doesn't have anyone else he can ask...."

At least Tessie hadn't made fun of him. He'd always been closest to her. With only four years between them, she was the only one of his sisters who'd ever seemed like a fellow child to him, growing up.

Several times the next day, John considered asking people for advice. Each time, he decided that it would go badly, like it had with his family.

The desire he felt for women was tainted, too. He had crossed a threshold, he'd been with a woman: he should have a new confidence. Instead he felt shame. Working on Miss Lane's fence, he still got an erection watching her. But when he imagined doing things to her, it inevitably led to feelings of inadequacy.

At home, Edith pulled him away from the house for a private conversation. "John, I'm sorry I teased you yesterday," she told him.

"It's okay," he said gloomily.

Her face got serious as she prepared to bring up the real reason for the talk. "Mom and I have been talking," she said. "I think it's time the kids and I move out."

John wasn't exactly surprised. Edith was twenty-seven. She was the mother to the two oldest children of the house, Evan and Kiki, and to one more toddler, Susie.

"So you want me...," John began.

"I don't want you to come with me," Edith blurted. "I don't want you to be my kids' prime uncle. It's not fair to you. Mom agrees. You deserve more time to grow up before taking on that kind of responsibility. You'll be more ready when Lucy moves out."

John's frown curled just a little bit toward a smile. "Lucy isn't going to want me," he asserted.

"Tessie, then," Edith countered.

"So who then?" John asked.

"I've been talking to Tony Carver," she explained. "You know him, right? He's got two brothers and one sister. We're going to adopt him as my kids' prime uncle."

"Okay," John said. "You'll come visit, right?"

"Of course!" She said, mussing his hair. "And you can come see us all the time. Evan will insist."

Chapter 8

John was always happy to have an excuse to get out, so when his mother prepared a bundle of clothes that needed mending, he volunteered for the errand.

Normally the clothing shop had two or three people working, but today it seemed that Izzy was all alone. John's dick stiffened when he saw her: he remembered being her chaperone and watching over her while she fucked foreign guys in every way imaginable. And he remembered sharing her warm soft mouth with Henry during his first ever blowjob.

Izzy was in her mid-twenties, but despite all the circuits she'd travelled, she had never had a baby. John had a hard time imagining her with a child. She was beautiful, but unusually skinny. The thought of a baby in her belly seemed comical, and it was hard to imagine one passing between her narrow hips. Even if that happened, he couldn't imagine her small cone-shaped breasts feeding an infant. They certainly looked appealing to touch though.

"Hello Miss Izzy," John greeted her. "My mom needs some clothes mended."

Izzy looked up from the electric sewing machine. She smiled at him. "Just Izzy, John. We're friends." She did a quick examination of the clothes he delivered. "About seventy pence? Pick up on Thursday?" John nodded, so Izzy placed the clothes in a basket on a shelf.

She looked him up and down. "You've been looking gloomy lately. What's going on with you?"

"It's nothing," he said. She levelled a demanding stare at him. He shrugged and sighed. "I'm a failure as a man," he confessed.

"What?" Izzy said joyfully. "You haven't been a man long enough to be a failure. What would make you say that?"

"My sister Edith doesn't want me to be her prime brother," John told her.

"John, you've got like three or four sisters, and you're the only boy?" Izzy questioned. "She probably doesn't want to take you away from the others who need you more."

John went on. "The Council thinks I'm only good for girls who want a little dick and a quick finish."

"Oh come on!" Izzy said with disbelief.

"That's what she said - the foreign girl," John explained. "That's what she asked for, and they gave her me. She hated it and was glad it was over so quickly."

Izzy smiled at him, her prominent cheekbones dominating her face. She made sure he looked her in the eye. "John.... First of all, it sounds like this girl has issues that have nothing to do with you. Secondly, from what I remember, your dick isn't small."

John frowned with doubt.

"Come'ere," she said, and led him behind some stacks of fabrics and materials for a little extra privacy. She put her hand on his crotch, massaging his package to bring his cock to life. Quickly he was painfully hard. Her hand squeezed his unit from outside his pants, methodically taking measure of everything he had down there. He groaned. His balls ached from the contact. He was worried that he might come, then and there.

"Yeah, see? You're actually a little above average for your age," she told him. "You're probably not done growing yet, either."

Izzy's kindness was cherished, but it clashed against his self-doubt. "But, the other thing...," he said.

Izzy considered the situation for a moment. "Watch the door," she said, and pulled down his pants. "Not a word of this to anyone, okay?" She dropped to her knees. Her hands were on his naked cock and balls. "I'm serious."

She didn't wait for an answer - she just got busy sucking his dick. She slurped audibly while she moved her head back and forth. At first John focused on her pretty mouth surrounding his cock: her red lips on his brown skin. Sometimes, depending on how she moved, he could see her breasts down the front of her dress - her nipples even, stiff little knobs standing ready. Sometimes she would take him deep into her mouth, ramming the soft back of her throat with his hard tip. He reached out tentatively and touched her soft brown hair, which was only just long enough for her curls to swallow his fingers.

One of her hands had been squeezing his nuts gently. Now, that hand slid further back, past his balls. She looked up at him and smiled devilishly. Her mouth was full of dick, but the nature of her smile was unmistakable. She looked up at him with beautiful hazel eyes as if she were asking a question. Looking into those eyes, John knew he was in love, even though it was forbidden.

His restraint broke; his climax began. Izzy slurped even louder, as if she were making a game of the meal he was feeding her. John slouched. His vitality had been sapped. He felt blurry, but peaceful.

Izzy stood up, licking her lips. "Okay, so that was sort of fast," she said. "But that's nothing to be ashamed of at your age. Age and practice will give you more staying power eventually."

"So there's nothing I can do? I'm going to keep disappointing women for years?" John asked.

Izzy laughed. "John, your dick is your least reliable way to please a woman. Great for getting her pregnant, useful tool in your arsenal. But if you want to make a woman happy in bed, you're going to need to rely on other things. Cocks are wonderful, but they don't stay hard forever. Tongues can keep going on and on."

John looked hopeful. "What do I do with my tongue?" He asked. He pulled up his pants.

Izzy touched his shoulder. "Lick her clit. Stroke her G-spot. You'll figure it out."

"I don't know what that means," John admitted. With a sudden surge of optimism, he said, "Izzy you have to teach me!"

"John, we can't. It was stupid to even do this," she explained.

"Well, we don't have to do it for real! Just show me how things work. Nobody will know."

She shook her head. "Even if we don't break the law, people already gossip about me a lot. A misunderstanding could cause a lot of harm. I'm on thin ice with some people in this town and I don't want to drag you down with me."

"But... how...?" John mumbled.

She looked him over again, and then rolled her eyes. "Not here, not now. And not a word of this to anyone, ever. Got it?"

"Absolutely!" John said eagerly.

Izzy thought it over. "We can't do it at my house - people would definitely talk about that. Your place is too busy, right?" John nodded. "Okay. Andre - my coworker - is going to be chaperoning a circuit next week. Come to his house at midnight on Monday night."

"Okay! Thank you Izzy!" They hugged and then he started for the door.

"Bring vegetable oil," she told him before he left. He looked at her curiously. "You'll see," she answered.

Chapter 9

Time moved at a crawl while John waited for his lessons with Izzy.

On Friday when John came home from work, his mother pressed some coins into his hand. "I need you to go into town tomorrow and get a haircut," she told him. She looked at his face closely, from a couple angles. "Have him shave you, too." John had never been shaved before in his life.

Lucy told him, "Leave your good shirt and pants where I can find them - I'll wash them tomorrow."

"What...?" John asked.

"The sheriff is taking a posse to Venture on Sunday," his mother answered. "He wanted you. I thought it was a good idea."

John panicked at the thought that he might miss his appointment with Izzy. "Just for Sunday?" He asked, a bit excitedly.

"It's a long drive. He expects to come back late Sunday night, but it's possible the trip could go longer."

"Why?" John asked.

Lucy answered: "You remember Nancy Oak? Her rapist, Tim Cooper, was spotted in Venture. The sheriff needs a show of force to pick him up and bring him back here for justice."

"Why me?" John asked. "There are lots of guys who are better fighters."

His mother smiled at him. "The sheriff said he needed men he could trust to keep cool heads. Men who know how to follow orders, but also think and act for themselves. Men who understand how to put duty ahead of themselves." She became suddenly emotional and wiped the beginning of a tear from her eye, and then caressed his head. "You have no idea how proud it made me to hear him talk about you like that."

Lucy was uncharacteristically respectful. "The sheriff said it's going to be a tense situation. There won't be any fighting, but a loudmouth could cause a lot of trouble between Appa and Venture. They're a very powerful town."

John nodded and then began his chores.

Two trucks left Appa on Sunday morning. The two civilians were Nancy Oak, a girl John's age with a modest baby bump; and Doc Porter, an old woman and probably the smartest person in town. The sheriff, Pops, was leading the mission. He had deputized John and Henry, as well as two adult men John didn't know very well. Each of the deputies had a rifle, which meant that only three were being left behind in Appa.

The trip was long and boring. Nancy asked John about his friendship with "that malbred Eddy". John soothed her fears by telling her that Eddy was as smart and nice a guy as he knew. Nancy was glad for the positive outlook. She was nervous about the life her baby would have. It was a malbred: there were any number of ways it could be congenitally sick. Even if it wasn't, it would live with a stigma for its whole life. If it was a boy, he would be castrated, guaranteeing that he was always seen as different.

Venture was a town like nothing John had even seen. All of the roads were paved. Most of the buildings were made of brick, and they all had many more windows than any other buildings he'd ever seen. Several small electric trucks ran around carrying people and goods.

Once, years ago, all of the schoolkids had been allowed into Appa's bunker for a special treat: a showing of a before-bunker recorded play about a boy named Ferris, demonstrating what life was like two centuries before. Venture wasn't anywhere near as grand or crowded as the city in the play, of course, but it reminded him of it.

Many dozens of Venture citizens were gathered around when the trucks came to a stop. Every one of them seemed to be glaring at them, questioning what business they had taking one of their citizens away.

Pops got out and spoke to the Venture sheriff. Then he gave the signal for everyone to disembark. The Venture sheriff disappeared, and then came back escorting Tim Cooper, whose hands were cuffed with steel. Nancy shivered and clung to Doc when she saw him.

The Appa contingent, the accused, and his escort walked two hundred yards to the entrance to Venture's bunker. Doc Porter shook hands with an old man who was waiting outside. He was wearing eyeglasses, so John concluded he must be rich.

"Do I have to go in there with him?" Nancy asked timidly.

"Yes, dear," Doc Porter answered. "Both doctors have to witness the samples being taken and given to the machine. It's the only way both communities can be sure the test was conducted fairly."

Pops, Doc, and Nancy followed the spectacled old man and an armed deputy into the bunker. The Venture sheriff stayed outside with John and the other Appa deputies, glancing seriously at the people who began to grumble too loudly. Sometimes they heard insults from the crowd, "Appa trash," and "liars," and the like, but nothing that was cause for concern.

John caught a face in the crowd: Katrina, his first circuit girl, was looking right at him. When she saw him notice her, she opened her mouth as if she wanted to speak with him. That was impossible, of course: the distance, the crowd, and the tension all fought against whatever it was she wanted to say. Once she realized the futility, she gave him a deliberate look. He didn't know what it meant, but it seemed personal. She mouthed some words at him anyway - he had no idea what.

The group emerged from the bunker. The old man with glasses whispered to the Venture sheriff who then shouted to the crowd. "Tim Cooper has been proven to be the sire of this girl's unborn baby. The town of Venture is remanding him to the town of Appa's custody for trial."

Murmurs shook through the crowds, as well as a few boos.

The Appa delegation loaded back into their trucks and began the trip home. John rode in the truck with Nancy and Doc Porter. The prisoner was in the other truck.

"Why were they so protective of him?" John finally blurted out, miles into the trip home. "Why would they want to protect a criminal?"

Doc answered thoughtfully. "People trust their tribe, and distrust outsiders," she explained. "It's built into us - it goes back millions of years. It helped early humans survive." John looked unconvinced, so the doctor tried another approach. "How do you suppose you would feel if strangers showed up demanding to take someone away from Appa? Would you take their accusations on blind faith?"

"I guess not," John said. He thought for a moment. "But, he wasn't one of theirs. He only lived there since he fled Appa a couple months ago. He's an outsider to them, right?"

"Well," Doc said with a shrug, "Tim Cooper is a very likeable man. He's good at convincing people that he's their friend. That goes a long way. Plus, he's a very skilled electrician. Venture loves their electricity."

The conversation had Nancy visibly distraught, so they let the subject go. Doc Porter told stories, instead, for the rest of the trip, setting everyone at ease.

Chapter 10

Monday night arrived. John's best clothes were none the worse for his Venture trip, so he made it a point to wear them for his rendezvous. He even swiped a couple mint leaves to chew as he approached. He handed Izzy some flowers he'd picked and the bottle of vegetable oil when she answered the door.

Izzy looked pretty. She always did, but her dress was unusually fancy by Appa standards, with lots of shades of orange and red, and a bell-shaped skirt down nearly to her ankles.

She took John by the hand and led him into the small comfortable living room. She poured them each a small glass of a fruity liquor as they sat in comfortable chairs opposite each other. They both sipped in silence while she toyed with him with her eyes.

"So...," Izzy said, setting both glasses aside and leading him into the bedroom, "we've never met, I've just been riding in a truck for eight hours, and I want to get pregnant. What do you do?"

"I guess I take off your dress?" John said. He reached for the laces at her neck, but she stopped him.

"Some girls might want to go straight to grinding," she said, "but most need some time to get ready: to feel comfortable and safe."

"So I just talk to her then?" John asked.

"Well, no. Words aren't enough," Izzy explained. John frowned. "You want to find ways to touch her - to get her used to you. Show her that you'll treat her nicely." She laughed, "It's honestly not much different than approaching an unfamiliar animal." John laughed too.

"I could... wash your feet?" John suggested.

"Okay, yeah," Izzy said with a chuckle.

John dipped a towel in the washbasin while Izzy sat on the edge of the bed and took off her shoes. He knelt in front of her and reverently scrubbed her small feet. She hummed approvingly.

After a time, Izzy's knees began to move apart. John looked to her face for cues. "Does that mean something?" He asked.

She smiled and nodded. "That definitely means something," she acknowledged.

John set the washcloth aside and caressed her smooth calf with both hands. He switched back and forth between her legs, enjoying the warmth of her skin. His hands were up under her skirt, touching her, he realized. Symbolically that struck him as more intimate than the blowjobs she had given him.

Her legs widened more, and he understood the message. His hands moved up to her thighs. Her breath carried soft tones of satisfaction while he rubbed them. He found it too awkward to preserve her modesty that high up on her body, so he lifted her skirt and petticoat and tossed them up onto her belly. She giggled, and then lay back and moaned as his hands returned to her thighs.

Her underpants had a damp spot - one that was growing in size. Nervously, he touched it.

"I want you to kiss me there," Izzy told him in response. She untied her underwear's string and lifted her hips, beginning to take them off. John helped remove them the rest of the way.

John was confused when he saw her nakedness. She was a grown woman, and yet she was hairless and smooth, like a little girl. He decided not to say anything.

"What do I do?" John asked, His little nieces' vulvas had never looked so swollen and wet. They had never given signs of being so complicated, with lips within lips, and so many bumps and folds.

Izzy shifted her body to see him past her bunched skirt. "You'll have to figure it out. Try stuff - see what happens."

John put his lips to Izzy's pussy. He ran his tongue firmly through her gash. She didn't say anything, so he asked, "Like this?"

Izzy lay back down. "It's okay to ask sometimes, but sex is so much about unspoken communication. "Try some stuff and see how I respond - my sounds, my movements. It might be different for the next girl. You'll have to figure it out every single time," she told him.

John put his face back in her muff and set about solving her puzzle. She groaned, satisfied, when he stroked her lips. She growled - or something like it - when he went too hard. She moaned encouragingly when he nuzzled the little stiff bit at the top of her bean. Over a few minutes, he learned to lick her there in a few ways that caused her to moan, pant, and thrust her pussy into his face as if asking for more. He knew he was on to something when she held his head in her hands and pulled him into her. He tongued her while she screamed and wiggled and gasped, until finally she closed her legs to tell him he was done.

Izzy pulled him up onto the bed with him. She beamed a smile at him and kissed him lightly many times. They touched each other all over, sometimes innocently, sometimes not, as they gradually undressed. John's erection was alert and ready for duty, even though John doubted that it would get to participate. Nevertheless, it leaked pre-come all through the minutes he spent inventing new ways to touch her breasts.

"John I want you to fuck me," she begged in a wispy voice.

His mouth abandoned the nipple it had been working on. "What, really?"

Izzy sat up and reached for the oil. "Yes. Not in the normal way though," she explained. Her hands rubbed a thick coating of oil onto his confused cock. "Rub some of this into my butthole, and then do me there," she instructed.

"Really?" John asked again.

"Trust me," she said. She hugged a pillow to her chest and lay face down next the the bewildered teen.

John reluctantly applied a dab of oil to his fingertip and circled her pucker with it. He tried not to think about the disgusting mess that seemed inevitable.

"More, and deeper," his tutor instructed him.

John poured the oil right between her cheeks and rubbed it around, even sticking his finger in an inch and coating her sphincter. An encouraging bounce from her hips told him she was ready, so he knelt above her legs, pulled apart her cheeks, and penetrated her butt. It went in easily and it felt nice: a tight little grip on his cock while his head slid against her insides. Without thinking about it, John began to rock forward and back, thrusting his cock inside her.

Izzy began to moan. Her eyes were closed and her hands kept tightening their grip on her pillow. "Ohhh, John," she muttered.

"You're just acting, right?" John asked while he rode her ass. "Making sounds like you would if this were the real thing and you enjoyed it?"

Izzy opened her eyes, and twisted to look at him, smiling. "I'm making these sounds because I am enjoying it. Keep it up and you'll make me come."

John didn't understand how that was possible, but he believed her. He kept grinding, sliding his cock inside of her. His hands were squeezing her butt, he noticed. Her hips were small for an adult woman, but so was her waist; they were in perfect balance - the loveliest shape in the world. But just about every part of her turned him on: the smooth clear skin on her back, the soft curves of her shoulders and neck, and her curly short brown hair. Every part of her seemed to respond to his thrusts.

He tried to stay in control. It felt so good. He tried to fight off the need to come, but it was impossible. He desperately wanted to get his lover there first, but it seemed impossible.

"I'm gonna come. I'm sorry!" He said urgently.

"You can stop if you want. Take a break," she told him.

"I can?" John asked, astonished.

"Of course!" Izzy said with a giggle.

John quickly pulled out and inched away, hands in the air as if his cock were a stick of unstable dynamite.

Izzy rolled over, face up, and spread her legs. She took his hand and moved it to her pussy. "Put your fingers in me," she told him.

John put his first two fingers in her, and pumped them in and out. Izzy nodded and smiled at him. She let him go on like that for a minute or two before grabbing his hand again, holding it still with his fingers in her cunt. "Curl your fingers and try to find... Oh! That's it!"

John ticked Izzy's G-spot, driving her wild. He had her moaning furiously, and biting her lip, coming and coming and coming. Her pussy pulsed around his fingers.

"Are you ready...," she gasped.

"I think so," John said eagerly.

Izzy flipped over again, face down, but this time up on her knees. John tried kneeling behind her, but that put him too low. Instead, he had to stand and squat. He drove his cock back into her ass and fucked her hard, gripping her hips for balance and power. She cried out, out of control. He moaned without shame as his climax approached, but this time he didn't fight it. He embraced his finish and unloaded gobs of baby-seed into her butt.

Side by side, after their heart rates had returned to normal, Izzy touched the short hair on the side of his head. "Well," she observed, "you made me come hard, three times. And you made me feel special. Feeling better about your manhood?"

"Yeah," John grinned.

She kissed him. "You know this was a one-time thing, right? And you can't ever tell anyone?"

"I know," John said. "I can't thank you enough."

"Maybe I didn't do it for you," she teased. "Maybe I did it for the town, so that tons of foreign girls would come flooding in to get knocked up by the Great Appa Sex God, bringing all kinds of commerce with them."

John shrugged happily. "I'm okay with that."

Chapter 11

Tim Cooper's trial was on Tuesday. For the crime of rape, he was sentenced to fifteen lashes. For the crime of malbreeding - impregnating a member of the same community - he was sentenced to castration. The castration was carried out immediately. The lashes were carried out three days later - to give the convicted time to heal, and to give Nancy's prime uncle time to practice with a whip.

When the lashes were administered, one of the strokes missed his back, wrapping around his face and nearly hitting his eye. The sheriff cautioned Nancy's prime uncle that further "mistakes" would not be tolerated.

Under law, Tim was free to continue his life in Appa. The unsympathetic glares toward the crying, bleeding, broken non-man, though, made it clear that he would be wise to move on. He recuperated under Doc Porter's care for two days. Then he was given three days' rations, a knife, compass, and map, and escorted to the edge of town.

John continued showing up at the town square in the evenings when foreign circuit girls were expected. Time after time, he still wasn't picked, but he had a more relaxed attitude about it now. It would happen, and he'd be ready.

He frequently thought about Izzy, and about having sex with her butt. He couldn't imagine where she had learned such a thing. Circuits are about pregnancy, after all; it was hard to imagine guys in other towns indulging, much less remaining silent about such a perversion. It was hard to imagine she could keep a secret like that from her chaperones, as well. But then the alternative was that she had learned it from someone local. Had Izzy fooled around with another guy like she had with him, and sworn him to secrecy too? Who? What if there were more than one?

He wished he could talk to Eddy about it, but he had made a promise.

The memory of the experience, along with masturbation, was enough to keep him sane for now.

One evening a strange vehicle appeared: a long enclosed truck with rows and rows of benches for passengers. Seven girls emerged, wearing the most colorful dresses he'd ever seen. Three chaperones followed them.

He watched the pretty young women for several minutes while three Future Generations Council members interviewed them and chose men for them to meet. He didn't even recognize Katrina until, scanning the crowd, her eyes found his. She looked completely different in a dress, with a flower in her hair instead of a ponytail.

She seemed to jump the queue ahead of her companions, speaking to Miss Melanie with animated hands and then pointing to John. Miss Melanie waved him over.

"John, you remember Katrina?" Miss Melanie said.

"Yes ma'am," he answered eagerly.

"Why don't you two talk for a while," she said, and then turned her attention to another Venture girl.

"Hey," she said with uneasy familiarity. "I saw you - back home when your sheriff came to take that guy away. You looked good - really, ah, responsible, I guess."

"Thanks. I'm sorry I couldn't say hello," he told her.

"No, I get it," she rushed to say. "What happened, anyway? With the trial?"

"He was castrated and whipped," John told her.

"Whipped?" Katrina said with shock.

"Yeah. For rape."

"Oh, I didn't know about that part," she told him.

She paused a moment, summoning her courage. "Look, John, I didn't know what I was doing before, and I don't think I was very fair to you. I think I was probably kind of mean. I'm sorry. I have a little more experience now, and if you'd be okay with it, I'd like to give it another try."

"That would be great!" John said.

Katrina checked in with her chaperones - told them not to worry about her - and then she and John began walking to his house.

It was with no small amount of pride that he introduced her to his family. "This is Katrina. She's on circuit from Venture."

The family eagerly made room for her at dinner, and wouldn't stop asking about her home town, and her job. Evan seemed smitten with her, and Kiki acted like she had found a new hero.

After dinner, John's mother began issuing orders. "Help me move some of the beds out of the small bedroom," she instructed Tessie. "These two will want some privacy tonight."

"Mom, no, I'll do it," John told her. "Go relax."

John began preparing to juggle the furniture; it was something of a puzzle due to limited open floor space. When Katrina saw the sleeping arrangements - two bedrooms for five adults and six children - she protested: "I don't want to put anyone out. Please. We can do it anywhere. It's a nice night out - we could sleep outside if you want."

John couldn't believe his luck. After grabbing some blankets and supplies, John took Katrina to his favorite spot by the stream.

While John spread out a large blanket, Katrina removed her dress, folded it neatly, and set it safely aside. It was too fine a thing for rolling around in the grass, she explained. She was still plenty covered by a full-length slip. John found himself staring, and then looked away.

"It's okay," she smiled. "You can look at me." He did, soaking in her beauty. She looked innocent, but confident.

When she sat down on the blanket, John moved behind her, pressing his strong hands into her travel-worn shoulders. "Oh, that's nice!" She said, relaxing into him.

John worked to pull the tension out of her muscles, and she sighed with relief over and over. Each of her breaths seemed to be heavier and slower than the last. His hands working on her neck and shoulders, but he couldn't keep his eyes off the rise and fall of her chest.

She snuggled her back against his body more, and moaned comfortably. She moved the straps of her slip off her shoulders. John took that as an invitation, and so he peeled down the top of her garment, revealing her small round breasts. It fascinated John that they were only a little bigger than Izzy's, but very different in shape: domes instead of cones. He put his hands to them, and she let out a happy murmur. The stars were out, and Katrina looked up at them, content while he massaged her tits.

Katrina shifted position, and then again. It was deliberate. She had found his erection and was provoking it. She even looked back at him with a lecherous grin. John stood up and removed his clothes. Katrina stood letting her slip fall to her feet. They kissed, as naked as Adam and Eve, under the night sky.

Katrina lay on her back and pulled John down on top of her. Skin to skin, they kissed and joined. Her cunt squeezed at his cock while it moved inside her. He thrust deeper, and she stopped kissing him so that she could moan. His hips rose and fell while he stroked deeply. Her legs and arms moved to touch him in every way they could. They fucked together on the blanket, and somewhere a wolf howled enviously.

John was about to come. He decided to stop - prolong the experience if he could. He moved to her side. Momentarily she was surprised, but her questions vanished when his mouth covered her nipple, and his fingers entered her cooch. He quickly found the right way to touch her: a gentle in-out at just the right depth, with his thumb occasionally bumping right next to her clit.

"Oh my god, John," she muttered as she began the slowest orgasm of her life. It moved through her body with the slow deliberation of the tides. Muscles below her belly felt sore from how hard they contracted.

When it was over, she pulled him off her tit. She looked him in the eye to make sure he understood. "I want you to fill me up with come. Please?"

They ended up on their sides, his chest to her back and his lips to her neck. She reached between her legs and found his cock, and then pushed it inside her. She began moving her body, driving it into her. John joined, thrusting with a complementary motion.

"Make me pregnant, John. I want my child to be yours," she begged.

Soon she began another orgasm - he could feel it. She cried out into the night. He did, too, softer: "Oh Katrina. Oh K... Ooohhh!" He filled her up with all the semen he could manage.

John woke up: Katrina was moving in her sleep. The moon had travelled a good distance: he'd been asleep for hours.

Katrina moved another time, wiggling to find some exact point of comfort. She moved again, this time turning her body sideways facing his. She opened her eyes to his face.

"Sorry. Did I wake you?" She asked sincerely. He smiled and shrugged.

She touched his face. He put his hand on her waist. She snuggled in tighter against his body and felt the wet tip of his semi-erect dick on her hip. She smiled and he smiled back, and then she climbed on top of him.

Floating above him, she rubbed her snatch against his pole, getting them both wet and ready. Still smiling, she pushed herself down on his cock and rocked back and forth on it. It was perfect, just like that. It went on for minutes. John was pleased that, for once, the boiling hormones inside him were under control and he didn't need to come. Katrina, on the other hand, let loose. She didn't make much noise, but she closed her eyes tight and lurched in a familiar way. The sight of her climaxing made him feel powerful and lucky.

She rode him for another minute before getting a devilish look in her eye. Without warning, she jumped up and ran away from him, splashing naked through the stream and stopping ankle-deep. She waved him over to her.

John joined his lover in the stream and they kissed again, but then she turned around and bent over. Resting her hands on her knees, she offered her ass to him like an animal in heat. He accepted her offer, grabbing her hips and filling her pussy with his cock. The need to come was returning; his desperation became evident in his thrusts - so much so that he knocked her over.

Katrina fell to her hands and knees in the muddy stream, laughing. John didn't give her a chance to stand up. Instead he dropped to his knees and plowed her more. "The water is tickling my balls," he commented with a chuckle.

Katrina's laughter intensified, but then took on an odd sounds. Her core twitched like someone with the hiccups.

"Wait, are you laughing or coming?" John asked, barely able to contain his amusement.

"Both!" She gasped.

John couldn't have held back any longer if he'd wanted to. He blew his second wad up into her womb before collapsing in the flowing water.

They held hands, side by side, as the water flowed around them. "So you don't have any uncles?" She asked conversationally.

"Nope."

"That must have been so hard for your mom," she observed.

"I think so," John answered. "But she did a really good job."

"I'm glad," Katrina said thoughtfully. "I don't have any brothers, so when I start a family it's going to be a lot of work. I mean, I have my adoptive mother and prime uncle - I won't be totally alone. But it would be nice to have somebody."

Neither said anything for a while. "You've got three sisters, huh?" She finally asked.

"Yeah," he said disappointedly.

He was pretty sure she was thinking the same thing as him: Wouldn't it be nice if he could join her, be adopted as her children's prime uncle. If he had come from a family with too many boys, it might have been possible. But the reality of it was that something like that could never happen: he had a duty to his sisters.

Epilogue

Two weeks later, John was finishing another day of work, back at Miss Lane's - this time, repairing the roof of her chicken coop. His mind had drifted and he had become aroused contemplating the women's undergarments she was so casually hanging to dry, so he was started by Alice's voice next to him.

Come on!" She ordered him.

"Huh?" John asked. He turned his body to hide his erection from the energetic girl.

"There's a bus full of circuit girls from Venture! Two of them are asking for you!" She told him. She looked him up and down with a sly smile that made her seem three years older. "They say you were highly recommended."