Day 1
Brigitte walked away from the breakfast table, thrilled at the thought of not having to do the dishes. She was headed out to do her first circuit: she was doing her duty to the village, and in recognition of that, she was exempt from this chore.
The Appa Future Generations Council had approved a circuit through Walmer, Crater, Marley, and Woolton. She would have sex four times in as many days. If she was lucky - really lucky - she would be pregnant by the end of the trip. This expedition was one of many sent out from Appa each month, each containing women at the peak of their fertility.
Brigitte lifted her duffel bag and handed it to her fellow travelers, already sitting in the truck's bed, and then climbed inside.
Izzy was famous as the town's oldest childless woman. At twenty-five, she had been doing circuits nearly every month for more than ten years. She had curly hair and prominent cheekbones, and she was skinny. Maybe she was too skinny, Brigitte speculated - maybe that had something to do with why she couldn't get pregnant. It seemed like she ought to be sad, but Izzy always signed up for the next circuit undaunted. Brigitte wondered if Izzy knew how much the other girls pitied her.
Henry and John were the other two waiting in the truck. Henry was Brigitte's brother - a year older than her. He would be her chaperon. John, two years younger, would be Izzy's.
The final two voyagers walked to the truck together. Ella was Brigitte's cousin; she was nineteen and the mother of two toddlers. Dylan was the oldest boy of the group at twenty. He and Ella were two peas in a pod, as far as Brigitte was concerned: both always too serious.
Dylan handed the final two duffel bags up to the passengers, and then he unslung the rifle from his back and handed it to John. The boy accepted it solemnly, understanding the responsibility that went with it. He checked the magazine and chamber before slinging it on his own back. Dylan and Ella climbed into the truck's cabin and they all began their journey.
Hours of driving across the broken before-bunker roads being lashed in the face with her own wind-blown hair was possibly the most exciting event of Brigitte's life. At first she hadn't liked the idea of sharing her first circuit with Izzy - as if the older girl's bad luck might rub off on her - but soon she discovered that the veteran circuit girl was a wealth of information as well as good cheer.
"They won't have any sort of party or introductions at Walmer," Izzy explained. "They'll put a bow around your neck and you'll just walk around town seeing the sights. Lots of boys will walk up to you and talk to you. When you find one you like, go to bed with him."
"How do I know who to choose?" Brigitte asked. The notion of a whole town full of boys she'd never met before seemed overwhelming.
Izzy laughed. "Just take your time - there will be lots to choose from. But... this is your first time, right? Try to pick an older guy. Not like uncle old - maybe someone Dylan's age. Young guys like this tend to blow their wads too quickly," she said motioning at John, "that's why they're called squirts." She winked at him.
John's face became troubled, so Izzy reassured him. "Don't worry cutie," she said, mussing his hair with her hand, "you won't have to wait long before all the circuit girls back home choose you."
The truck came to a stop, perplexing Brigitte. There was nothing around as far as the eye could see - not even before-bunker rubble.
Dylan and Ella exited the truck's cab. "All right," Dylan announced. "We're about an hour out of town. We'll do the chaperon blowjobs here and then make plans before the final stretch."
"Chaperon blowjobs?" Brigitte asked.
"You didn't know about those?" Izzy questioned her.
"It's only fair," Ella insisted. "If they weren't here escorting us, they'd be back home siring for foreign circuit girls."
"It's more than that, though," Izzy explained. "We count on them to protect us, but they can't stay alert if they're all charged up sexually. Before we started doing this, a couple years ago, some guys in Marley took advantage of Mary Cooper because her chaperon left her to go jerk his meat."
"Um, okay...," Brigitte said uncertainly. She glanced between the three boys. "I've never, you know, touched one."
Izzy smiled at her. "Don't worry about it! I'll take care of these two today, and tomorrow after some Walmer boy has popped your cherry, we'll see how you feel." To Ella she added, with a subtext that Brigitte didn't understand, "I assume you'll be taking care of Dylan?"
"Yes," Ella said flatly.
Izzy fingered the shoulder straps of her dress provocatively for a few seconds before pulling her top down. Her breasts were smallish and sort of angular instead of round, but on her slender frame they were enough to give her a feminine shape. Brigitte wondered if they were big enough to interest the boys at all, but it quickly became obvious that they were.
"Why do you need to show your breasts?" Brigitte asked.
Izzy laid a small blanket on the ground while the boys excitedly took off their pants and underwear. "I don't need to," Izzy explained. She knelt on the blanket. "It's just nice to give the boys something to look at. Plus there's less risk of making a mess on my dress this way."
Izzy coaxed the boys into position and then alternated between them, giving each cock ten seconds or so of her warm wet mouth before switching to the other. She didn't seem to be blowing or sucking - Brigitte had never truly understood that facet of the act from the stories she'd heard. Instead, Izzy was simply moving her lips and tongue around over the tips of the boys' fleshy rods.
Henry, who had been a chaperon to many girls recently, stood silent and relaxed, his eyes locked on the woman kneeling in front of him. John, on the other hand, was squirming and gasping. His eyes were darting all over the place as if trying to understand how he had come to the amazing place at which he stood.
Brigitte moved around the truck to see what Dylan and Ella were doing. He was naked from the waist down, sitting on truck's passenger seat with his legs open wide through the open door. Ella was standing between his legs, bobbing her head up and down on his cock. Her technique was different: she was taking almost all of his length inside her as her head rose and fell at a regular pace. Sometimes she made gurgling sounds.
Dylan gave Brigitte a distinctly unwelcome look, and then Ella stopped what she was doing long enough to cast an evil eye of her own, so Brigitte walked back to the back of the truck to watch her more easy-going kin.
Now, instead of alternating between Henry and John, Izzy was slobbering on both of their dicks together. She was making strange choking sounds sometimes and occasionally had to wipe some slobber off of her chin, but her head never stopped making random fluid motions over the eager cocks.
Izzy wrapped a hand around each boy's shaft and began moving them back and forth while her mouth entertained their tips. Henry gasped with satisfaction, but John began squirming again, and hyperventilating. John moaned and bounced in place with his mouth hanging open, and then seconds later, his semen overflowed Izzy's mouth. She somehow got it back in her mouth and gave John's dick a few final licks before abandoning the spent boy and turning her full attention to Henry.
While Izzy continued jerking and sucking Henry, Brigitte watched John's behavior curiously. He found a patch of grass to lie on and spread out, panting as if returning from a hard run. His dick shriveled, returning to what Brigitte imagined was a much more practical size and shape to keep around between his legs all day.
Her attention snapped back to Henry and Izzy when he began to moan. His hands were on her head and his back arched, as if thrusting his cock toward her, but she kept her mouth and hand fixed exactly where she wanted them. He came, obviously, and Izzy swallowed the probably-gross but magical liquid.
Everyone got dressed in silence and waited for Dylan and Ella to re-emerge.
Dylan spread a map out on a large flat rock to show everyone. "There's a ravine just Northwest of Walmer. This section here has a line of before-bunker electricity towers. That's where we'll meet if anything goes wrong. I'll point them out when as we approach," Dylan told them.
Dylan locked eyes with John. "You're keeping the gun because you're the smallest - the one they'll think they can bully easiest. But they can't. These girls are the most important things in Appa. We have to protect them no matter what. Now, what do you do if someone tries to hurt Izzy?"
"I fire a warning shot and tell them to stop," John answered.
"And if they don't stop?" Dylan pressed.
"I kill them," John said with determination.
"Good. And if someone tries to take your weapon?"
"I kill them."
"And if things go wrong?"
"I take Izzy to the ravine Northwest of town and wait for you."
Dylan put an hand on John's shoulder and nodded approvingly.
Izzy interjected softly: "Just remember - sometimes pleasure and pain can sound a lot alike..."
Ella interrupted snidely, muttering, "Especially for some girls."
Izzy ignored her. "Just make sure that it's a real crisis before shooting anything," she said. John nodded.
"I don't get it though," John said after a moment of reflection. "If this is so risky, why do we let the girls out of the village? Wouldn't they be easier to protect at home? Why couldn't men travel from town to town instead of women?"
Ella answered before anyone else. "It wouldn't be practical to have that many men away from their homes - away from work - so much of the time. A woman needs a whole lot of men to choose from in order to find one who'll give her a healthy baby. Women have an instinct: we subconsciously just know how to find a guy whose genes will combine best with our own."
"They say it has to do with pheromones and immune-system genes," Izzy added, surprisingly without objection from Ella.
"All right," Dylan said, clapping his hands, "let's go to Walmer."
A member of the Walmer Future Generations Council welcomed the travelers. The girls were given lavender-colored ribbons tied in bows around their necks. The boys were given similarly colored armbands.
Brigitte marveled at her first taste of civilization away from home, and Henry stayed at her side. There were all sorts of interesting things in shops, and the beer at their inn tasted very different than what she was used to. They even had a museum full of before-bunker technology, including a grass-cutting machine, and a radiation oven. At Henry's request, they stopped at a machinist's shop to negotiate spare parts for their family's printing press.
Sometimes she would see other girls - people she'd never met - wearing different colored ribbons. Henry explained that those were circuit girls from other towns. Each group was assigned a distinct color when they checked in.
Lots of guys - lots of handsome guys - stopped to talk to Brigitte. Sometimes it was a simple introduction, sometimes a longer conversation. None of them stayed too long when there were others nearby waiting; it seemed that they were voluntarily taking turns. Following Izzy's advice, Brigitte swallowed the urge to decide too quickly.
The boys seemed to treat Izzy differently. Every time Brigitte ran across the twenty-five year old, Izzy was surrounded by three or four men or boys with whom she was talking and laughing like they were old friends. Sometimes she would touch them in peculiar ways.
The boy who finally captured Brigitte's attention was Carter. He was wearing a blue jacket that had no buttons, but had gleaming metal on the edges. Brigitte had read about zippers but had never seen one, and Carter was more than happy to let the wonder-struck girl play with his.
"Is this before-bunker?" She asked, finally stopping pulling the zipper up and down, and touching the fabric covering his chest.
"Just the fastener," Carter explained. "The jacket's ten years old - it was my prime uncle's. They sewed the fastener in, see?"
Brigitte smiled at the boy, sharing her delight.
"I do have something from the old world, though...," Carter told her. "Bed sheets. Have you ever touched before-bunker fabric? You wouldn't believe how soft it feels on your... skin."
He looked her over with a sort of hunger that she decided she liked a lot. The thought of being naked on his magically soft bed excited her, and the thought of this stranger boy seeing her like that sparked a naughty thrill. She made her choice.
"Let's go!" She said.
Carter had a bedroom all to himself. With Henry waiting just outside the door, Brigitte felt no shame in undressing in front of her soon-to-be lover. She raced through the buttons of her blouse and skirt, and the bows securing her brassiere gave her no trouble. She stumbled, just a bit, with the knot on the draw string of her underpants, but soon she was completely nude and throwing herself onto the sheets.
"Oh, this is wonderful!" She said, rolling around trying to feel the soft fabric on every inch of her skin. "Do you sleep like this all the time?"
Carter smiled, still standing and looking down on her. "No - it's just for special occasions."
Brigitte's smile grew brighter at the complement, and she looked into his eyes for a moment. Then she flipped face-down and examined the sheet closely. "The threads are so small it's like they're invisible!"
Carter undressed and sat next to Brigitte, running his hand gently over her back and butt. Brigitte barely managed to control the explosion of excitement he created inside her. Once she regained her composure she flipped over onto her back and it happened again as he caressed her belly and breasts. He stopped stroking with his hand and began squeezing and kneading her breasts - a seemingly silly way to show love, but it felt totally right. And then he grabbed her cunt, and she squealed, overwhelmed with lust.
Carter coaxed her legs opened and moved between them. Despite how badly she wanted it to happen just like that, despite how much she hated to delay even a moment, Brigitte stopped him. "My mom says I should be on top," she told him. "For my first time. To make it hurt less."
"Oh... You're a virgin?" Carter asked, visibly disappointed.
"Is that okay?" Brigitte asked vulnerably, shaken by his change in attitude. It was a shock to her to realize that he hadn't automatically inferred how inexperienced she was.
"Yeah, yeah it is," he told her. "I just don't want to get blood on the sheets," he clarified. "Hold on."
Carter disappeared from the room and came back a moment later with a plain everyday sheet. Brigitte got up and Carter spread it over the special one, and then lay on his back. His erection wagged above him, demanding to be the center of attention.
Brigitte climbed on top of Carter and tried to find the right position. Her first time touching a cock was when she reached between her legs to help her line it up with her pussy. The first moment of penetration - his cock head just barely inside her - felt amazing, but then there was resistance. He was looking at her patiently while she psyched herself up for the next step. Then, gritting her teeth, she shifted her hips and split her hymen on his cock.
The heavy breaths through her nose made a faint whistling sound while she waited for the pain to subside. Soon it had dulled enough that she felt comfortable indulging her instinctive urge - to fill her pussy with his dick. She had been wrong about what it would feel like, but she was far from disappointed. The more of his cock she managed to wiggle inside herself the better it felt, until finally he had no more to give her.
Her lover fingered her nipple while she tried to rise up. She moved cautiously: the unfamiliar crowded feeling inside her made her worried that if she moved the wrong way she might hurt herself. But motion begged for more motion, and her body quickly convinced her that the only thing better than a cock in her pussy was a cock moving in her pussy. She bounced on top of him, pressing her hands into his chest while she learned to ride dick.
"Oh god I like it!" Brigitte declared while she fucked the boy she had chosen to, maybe, sire her first child. Her eyes were full of insecurity though, while she looked down on him.
Carter smiled back at her. "Kiss me," he said.
Brigitte leaned forward, adjusting her legs so that she had the leverage to keep thrusting from this new position. His lips attacked hers and they wrestled in an undignified mess of sloppy motion. His tongue, too, probed her mouth, but she had too little attention to spare for it. It was her first kiss, and it was nice, but her baby-making instinct was in charge now, and nothing could distract her from squeezing and sliding his cock up in her belly, enticing it to release its magic.
New positions on top of him gave her more control. Something was building inside of her - something she desperately wanted to nurture, and so she experimented with different ways to move.
Carter gestured for her to lean back down, as if to kiss him again, but they didn't kiss. Instead, he moved her arms behind her back and he held her tight to his chest. He had caught her by surprise and she wasn't positioned to keep grinding, but it didn't matter: his hips began thrusting up into her. It was different - a bumpy ride out of her control, with a hungry cock giving her more than she had learned to take for herself.
She felt a sort of security being held tightly this way by her lover - paradoxical since he was restraining her arms. His body shook hers, inside and out, and that growing feeling inside her continued, until finally it burst. Her pussy received his cock with vigorous loving squeezes and her whole body tumbled in an undertow of bliss. Incoherent babbling sounds escaped her lips amidst gasps.
A moment later, Brigitte regained her power of speech but found she had nothing to say. The swirling ineffable good feelings remained, kept in place by the rhythm of her partner's pounding cock. This time it was his turn to mutter incoherent sounds. He squeezed her even tighter and he drove his hips hard enough to rattle the bed. Finally he groaned and slowed down. His hips stopped moving; his cock stopped moving; but there was a subtle new feeling. Cater held her like that while his dick softened and retreated, and eventually his semen began to escape her pussy.
Once they broke their embrace, Carter seemed in a rush to have Brigitte dress and leave, but he did kiss her goodbye. It was a kiss that she could really pay attention to, and she decided that she liked it.
On the walk back to the Future Generations hostel, Henry repeatedly gave Brigitte looks, inviting her to talk about her step into womanhood, but she replied to her brother only with shy grins.
Ella was already there, getting ready for bed. Dylan was talking to some older boys from other towns. Izzy and John weren't back yet, and they didn't return before Brigitte fell asleep.
Day 2
After an hour's drive the next morning, the troop stopped to radio back home to Appa.
Brigitte was relaxing in a sunny patch of grass with Henry and John while Dylan and Ella dealt with the radio and Izzy stretched against the truck.
John asked quietly, "Is it normal for a girl to mate with two different guys in one night?"
Henry smirked. "It's normal for Izzy." He raised an eyebrow suggestively.
Brigitte was irritated by her brother's disrespect. "Well can you blame her?" She demanded. "She's been trying to get pregnant since before she was my age! It probably breaks her heart every month when she finds out she's still not pregnant. She's desperate!"
"She's desperate for something all right," Henry said with a grin. John laughed.
Brigitte harrumphed and turned her back on the boys.
"Change of plans," Dylan announced once they had all gathered back together. "Marley is closed. They've got a flu epidemic and they don't want circuit girls spreading it to other towns. We're going straight to Woolton instead."
"Aww! But I wanted to see the hot springs!" Brigitte complained. "Seriously, how much harm can a little flu do?" She wrapped her arms in front of her and pouted like a child.
Ella replied soothingly, "It's... probably not really the flu." She locked her gaze conspicuously on Brigitte's hips for a moment before meeting her eyes again. Brigitte's petulance faded away.
The group continued their travels and stopped a short distance from Woolton. Izzy again offered to take care both Henry's and John's appetites, but despite not really having any new understanding of men and their erections, Brigitte decided that she was a woman now, and that she would accept the responsibility.
Dylan and Ella once again claimed the truck cabin, and once again obviously wanted to be left alone, so Brigitte leaned John up against the body of the truck on the other side. On her knees, she unbuttoned the adolescent boy's pants, untied his shorts, and watched his penis grow toward her.
She tried to emulate Izzy's performance from the day before, bobbing her head forward and back sweeping her lips over the cock's crown. John didn't seem to have any complaints but Brigitte quickly regretted her choice of location: the ancient broken asphalt dug into her knees painfully.
After taking a moment to fold her skirt several times under her knees, Brigitte went back to determinedly servicing her companion's cock. She remembered her tongue, a short while later, and began to experiment with things she could do with it. She didn't get very far before John gurgled. His cock twitched and filled her mouth with swallow after swallow of his seed.
Brigitte didn't get up immediately - didn't dismiss her partner. She watched as the penis changed, going into hibernation until it would be ready again. As it shrunk, the skin rolled forward to protect the crown, like a flower closing at night.
She touched John's scrotum and felt the weight of his balls. She wished she had thought to inspect them before: she was curious if they shrink after a boy comes, and if so how much.
Brigitte glanced over at Izzy, still sucking on her brother a few yards away. Izzy's hand was moving back and forth on the part of Henry's rod outside her mouth. Brigitte had forgotten about that part. She tried handling John's small worm. There certainly wasn't enough substance to wrap her whole hand around, but her fingers had no trouble sliding the skin over the soft fleshy core. With each stroke the tiny head emerged from and then retreated into its blanket of foreskin.
Before Brigitte realized it, the strange thing in her hand had grown to its full five inches again. She stopped moving and looked up to John's face, which at first was tilted toward the sky with its eyes closed. Once he looked back at her, she said, embarrassed, "I'm sorry - I didn't.... Do I need to do it over again?"
John was quick to answer. "No! It's okay, I'm good. I'm ready."
Brigitte stood up and put an hand on the half-naked boy's shoulder. "I'll do better next time," she said, and then walked away.
Servicing John had left Brigitte a little wet between the legs, and watching the springtime copulation of animals on the numerous farms for the rest of the drive gave her no distraction. It was lucky, then, that her delegation checked in with the Woolton Future Generations Council only minutes before the evening's "line up".
Along with the circuit girls from other towns, Brigitte and her companions were seated on bleachers in a well-lit courtyard. A line of men were brought before them: fifty or more. Some were the age her uncles, but most were in their teens, or a little beyond. Many were clearly wearing their everyday work clothes, but some had dressed up for the occasion. Three were shirtless.
One man stood out from the rest like a lighthouse on a stormy night: amid a sea of brown and black, this man's hair was yellow. His skin was noticeably lighter than everyone else's, too, and he was among the tallest men there. Brigitte guessed him to be twenty years old.
The Council representative had each man step forward and introduce himself. Most simply gave their names and sometimes jobs. A few made flowery or bombastic offers about the nights in store for the girls who chose them. One of the shirtless men - old and with a beard - posed to show off his muscles.
Brigitte could see, out of the corner of her eye, that Izzy was watching her, like an excited mother or uncle on a child's birthday. When the yellow-haired boy introduced himself - his name was Eric - Brigitte glanced at Izzy for her opinion. Izzy smiled and nodded enthusiastically at Brigitte, making the younger girl blush.
The girls were set free to choose their companions for the evening, and Brigitte rushed straight to Eric.
"I've never seen anyone with blue eyes before!" She told him. She practically glowed with awe.
"Everyone has them where I'm from," he told her with a shrug. "Samara - very far North."
Brigitte discovered that she didn't know what to do. She was supposed to be evaluating the men up close, like buying livestock. She was sure that she should be asking questions, or doing something to inform her choice, but she didn't know what. And anyway, she knew who she wanted - in just a few words he'd shown himself to be just as nice as he was beautiful.
Other girls were watching like vultures, ready to seize on her indecision. Eric seemed to understand the situation though, and asked her, "Would you like to come home with me?" Brigitte nodded.
Brigitte, Eric, and Henry began the three mile walk to Eric's farm. There wasn't room inside the house for them, he explained, but he had prepared a comfortable enough space for them in the barn hay loft, and another for her chaperon.
The house was a beehive of activity, with five children and their frazzled mother Carla. Carla and the children all had brown hair and brown eyes, just like nearly everyone Brigitte had ever met, but there was no doubt that Eric was the children's prime uncle, by agreement if not by blood. Brigitte and Henry were treasured guests at dinner, and then they helped to clean up afterward. Henry asked why everything was so rushed after dinner, and Eric explained that the electricity would end at 8:00.
After the lights went out, Eric led them into the barn and up the ladder to their beds. A wall of bundled hay separated Henry's area from the one that would be shared by Eric and Brigitte, so they would have some measure of privacy while still allowing Henry to monitor his charge.
Eric unlaced Brigitte's dress reverently and then he touched her nipple, barely, through her slip as the dress fell down. He kissed her and touched her all over and gradually removed her under-things as well as his own clothing. She dreamily let go of her thoughts about the things he did to her and instead only felt them, wonderfully.
The scratchiness of the wool blanket upon which he laid her brought her mind back from the dream. She couldn't help but compare it to the old-world luxury she had experienced, briefly, the night before. Eric continued to sweep across her with his hands, lips, nose, and even his erection. A sing-song groan escaped her lips during the divine fifteen seconds in which his mouth indulged her pussy.
And then he was on top of her, face to face with her, touching her thighs and guiding his cock inside of her. He shifted forward; his whole body moved on the outside and it felt like hers was moved on the inside. They moved together as he rolled like waves against her. Sometimes he kissed her, sometimes he touched her face, but he never stopped moving inside her.
Brigitte spread her legs wider, as if to capture more of him - feel more of what he was giving her. There was no more of him to take, but she found the stretching sensation paired well with the remarkable feelings he was giving her. That escalating sensation was present again and with each moment he was pushing her closer to its reward.
With no warning, Brigitte felt his warm twitching in her pussy. Her lover had ejaculated. She had only barely had time to consider disappointment when he moved beside her, his arm around her and kissing her. His other hand moved between her legs and shook violently. Once again there was an urgency building inside her, an escalating pleasure with its own secret purpose.
With his hand he made her come. He MADE her come. It was phenomenal, and it didn't stop. She kept finding herself out of air, gasping, only to moan more forcefully. Her vagina squeezed and pulled, churning his seed toward her womb. He cradled her, studying her face while his hand propelled her on an infinite journey of joy.
Finally her body gave out and his touch became uncomfortable. His hand stopped, but he continue to hold her, cradling her head in his arm. They looked at each other silently until she drifted to sleep.
A few times at night she woke up, just a little, to shift positions or because he did, and she got to experience falling asleep pressing her naked body against his again.
Day 3
The next day's travels went well until they came to the bridge. Two of the supports were noticeably out of place - seemingly dislodged by flood debris - and a portion of the top was drooping. Ella and Izzy unpacked lunch while Dylan and John investigated.
"Hey Brigitte," Henry asked cautiously. "That guy last night - what did he do to you?"
"Huh? Nothing! He was a total gentleman!" Brigitte answered.
"No, but I mean, what did he do?" Henry pressed. "'Cause I want to learn whatever it was."
"Shut up!" Brigitte insisted bashfully.
Predictably, Izzy rushed to join the conversation. "Ooh, yeah, what did he do?"
Brigitte closed her arms around herself and shook her head, but Izzy persisted. "Was it spanking? Did he lick your beaver? Did he put something in your butt? Were there feathers?"
Brigitte shied away even more. "Well what did she sound like?" Izzy asked Henry.
Henry did his best to imitate Brigitte's moans from the night before. It was strange to hear what were decidedly feminine sounds in a male voice. "But it went on forever," he added.
"Yeah, I don't know," Izzy concluded. "Next time you'll just have to watch," she told Henry.
"Oh my god, no!" Brigitte protested. Despite her embarrassment, a part of her enjoyed the attention, and the recognition that she seemed to be doing sex well. She wished that they would ask her something specific - something with a simple answer she could give them.
Through the whole discussion, Ella watched silently and coldly.
The bridge was unsafe; they would have to take the long way to Crater. After a long day of driving they set up camp a few hundred yards away from the road. There would be no need for a formal guard rotation here, Dylan told them; Crater did a good job of keeping the nomads away.
Henry and John got their blowjobs. Dylan said he wasn't in the mood. Brigitte was proud of herself: this time she got John off in a little over a minute. During that time, though, John was watching Izzy get completely naked and commenting about her lack of pubic hair.
Brigitte woke up in the middle of the night with a pestering bladder. She should have woken up Henry to escort her, she knew, but it seemed a shame to wake him over something so trivial.
While she was relieving herself she kept hearing a strange noise repeating at a regular interval. It wasn't from any bird or frog that she knew, so she took a moment to investigate. As she grew close she saw light from an electric lantern through the bushes.
It was Dylan and Ella. They were fucking... like animals. Ella was on her elbows and knees on a blanket, completely naked. She had a stick in her mouth that she was biting, presumably to keep from crying out. Dylan was kneeling behind her, just as naked. He kept thrusting his dick into her, hard. His hands firmly held her hips, controlling her and keeping her in place while he used her.
Brigitte couldn't believe that she was witnessing such an act of criminality. She knew that it happened sometimes, of course: malbreeding - copulating with someone from your own village. She never imagined that anyone she knew would be capable of it, though.
Their backs were to her, thankfully.
It was easy to see why even someone from Appa would be attracted to Dylan. He had a protector's body: all the right amounts of muscle in all the right places for both strength and agility. The shirtless muscular man from Woolton might have made a good blacksmith, but for what made a real man, in Brigitte's estimation, Dylan was unrivaled. Dylan's butt and thighs tensed with every thrust he made into his partner-in-crime.
Brigitte failed to see how Ella was appealing at all like this, on the other hand. Her cousin was beautiful normally - or at least she would have been if she ever smiled - but Dylan probably couldn't even see any of her womanly features like this. With her boobs swinging beneath her while her body rocked, Brigitte thought she looked more like a sow than a woman. It was hard to imagine that she had allowed herself to be put in a position of such indignity.
Despite the stick in her mouth, Ella began to let out a needy whimper. Dylan grunted in answer and sped his thrusting. Ella's sounds became more urgent, and then she arched her back and squealed. Dylan's fingers dug into her hips and he grunted again, and then stopped moving. Ella collapsed onto her side and then rolled to her back, spitting out the stick and laughing. For a few seconds she shared a genuinely joyful look with her lover, but then her eyes shifted to Brigitte and her face turned sour.
Brigitte dashed away toward camp. Frantically she dove into the tent and under the blanket, pretending as hard as she could to sleep. Soon, Ella was standing at the tent's opening, whispering, "Brigitte, get out here."
She continued her ruse. Dylan whispered, "Come on Brigitte, we just want to talk." When she refused to stir, Dylan grabbed her ankle and began pulling her.
"Okay, geez!" Brigitte spat, kicking her ankle free of Dylan's grasp. The criminal pair led her to the other side of the truck, away from uninvited ears.
Ella tried to sound sympathetic. "Brigitte, what we were doing wasn't illegal. See? We used this."
Ella held out a translucent tube. It looked like a sausage casing tied at one end. There was a white jelly-like substance in the closed end. "See? All of his sperm was contained. He couldn't have made me pregnant."
"It's still wrong," Brigitte asserted.
"No, it's not," Dylan countered. "We're in love - the before-bunker sort of love. We know what our babies would be like if we mated. That's why she's out on circuit, like you. But us wanting to be together? That's totally natural, and right."
Brigitte was defiant. "If you loved her you wouldn't have treated her like an animal. You demeaned her."
Ella's friendly facade slipped. "You are such a child! There are lots of ways of doing it! He was giving it to me exactly like I wanted, and making me feel better than any circuit host ever did!"
"And another thing!" Ella lectured. "This? Is not that uncommon." She pointed back and forth between Dylan and herself. "Half of the pregnant women back home are getting it from someone. Nobody talks about it, but it's true. You don't stop wanting it just because you're with child. You'll see."
"You know what they'll do to you if you're caught," Brigitte argued. The consequences were the same everywhere: castration of the sire, and of the offspring too if it's a boy.
"That's why we're careful," Dylan told her. "Look, Brigitte, I don't expect you to understand, but I hope we can count on you not to tell anyone. But if you're going to, just give us a day's warning so we can get out of town, okay?"
Brigitte was shocked by the realization that their futures were in her hands. She didn't like the idea of that kind of responsibility. "Where would you go?" She asked. "To live with the nomads?"
Dylan and Ella glanced at each other. This was obviously something they had talked about. "They say the medical machines in Athens' bunker have been broken for years. They can't test who sired a child. There are rumors that they're becoming more tolerant."
"Look, Brigitte, you are young. There's a lot you don't know yet." Ella said, once again taking on a gentle tone. "Sometimes there's a difference between what's lawful and what's just."
Turbulent thoughts, both civil and sexual, kept Brigitte awake after her talk with Dylan and Ella. She reflected on law: the needs of the community versus people's individual rights. But she also wondered how it would feel having a piece of sheep intestine sliding through her vagina instead of a human penis. She thought about what it would be like to be on her knees with some grunting man that she couldn't even see filling her up. She wondered if Izzy had ever let a man do that to her. She probably had. Could Brigitte even ask the older girl something like that? And she imagined, only fleetingly, her brother Henry lying on top of her, pumping his seed into her belly. These thoughts were all disturbing, but for some reason she didn't want to let go of them.
Day 4
Several times during the drive the next day, Ella glanced back at Brigitte from the truck's cab. She was wondering, no doubt, whether Brigitte was saying anything to their other companions. Brigitte was happy to let her wonder.
When the time came for chaperon blowjobs, Ella surprised everyone by claiming Henry. Izzy slid up beside Dylan with a wicked grin, leaving a hopeful John standing in front of Brigitte.
He asked to see her boobs. The dress she was wearing was easy to open with a row of buttons in front, so Brigitte indulged her neighbor by revealed her springy globes to him.
"Yours are better," John said softly with a guilty smile.
Brigitte selected a nice comfortable patch of grass to kneel on and began her work on John's dick. She pulled together all of the lessons she had learned lately and performed what she figured was a pretty good suck-job. John's eyes were fixed on her the whole time, fascinated by the jiggling of her breasts.
John came fairly quickly. Henry took a little longer. Then the four waited quietly for the final couple to finish. After several minutes Brigitte invented an excuse to go near the cab where Izzy was servicing Dylan. The doors were closed so Brigitte couldn't see anything, but she could hear Dylan groaning inside: "Please, Izzy, let me come. Ughn! Ohhhh! Oh fuck I need to cooooooome!"
A few minutes later Izzy emerged from the cab with a bounce in her step. She grinned broadly, first at everyone but then focused just on Ella. Ella returned an icy stare. Dylan joined the rest a short while later and presented their emergency plan, looking not quite as sharp as usual.
Crater treated its visiting circuit girls like royalty. They had a building made just for the purpose: each girl was given her own room where her chosen man would inseminate her, and then she would sleep for the night. Each of those had a smaller adjoining room for a chaperon. There was a cafeteria, a ballroom, and a real working video game called Ms. Pacman.
All twenty-two bedrooms were filled. Izzy slipped away before dinner to run an errand, while Brigitte waited her turn at the amazing piece of technology. When Brigitte couldn't get close enough to look at the game machine, she spent her time sizing up the girls from other towns. The eleven girls from Venture all had much nicer dresses than everyone else, with brighter colored fabrics and more embroidery. They only had three chaperons between them, though, so Brigitte concluded that despite the town's obvious wealth, it didn't value these girls as much as Appa valued its young women.
Izzy returned in the middle of dinner and sat next to Brigitte.
"Did you find what you were looking for?" Brigitte asked.
"Sort of," Izzy replied. "My favorite guy can't make it tonight. I'll probably just grab some first-timer and rock his world."
Brigitte lost count of how many boys she danced with. The songs were all short, but even so there were a number of times when aggressive boys tried to steel her away from her current partner.
The boy that Brigitte found herself returning to over and over again was Adam. After a while they stopped dancing and just talked. They had read many of the same books, and Adam was curious about Brigitte's experience working at her family's printing press. His hair was longer than a boy's was supposed to be, but Brigitte decided his slovenliness was sort of cute.
The dance had some minutes left when Brigitte and Adam snuck away to her room. They stood in the middle of the room, just kissing, until the band stopped playing. Then Adam moved behind her, kissing her neck while his fingers roamed up and down her front.
Suddenly, Brigitte remembered that sex was going to happen, and all of her ease and relaxation evaporated. Despite herself, she couldn't help thinking about Dylan and Ella from the night before, and Ella's apparent need to hold back her moans. It was a vile thought, but she couldn't dislodge it from her mind.
Adam unbuttoned the top of her dress and slipped his hands inside. Her breasts approved of his touch. Her neck was cold from where his kisses had left it wet. She wanted him, and she knew that he wanted her, but she couldn't help but wonder how he wanted her: what he would choose to do to her if given free rein.
"You know what I heard?" Brigitte said with a nervous laugh. "I heard that some people do it like animals. Like a pair of rutting dogs. Can you believe it?"
Adam took his time, squeezing her breast and breathing on her neck before answering. "I'm not sure I understand. Show me."
Brigitte climbed onto the bed. "I suppose... the girl would get on her hands and knees like this," she said, assuming roughly the same posture she'd seen Ella in the night before. She reassured herself that this was only a demonstration, since she was still wearing all of her clothes.
"Then what?" Adam asked. Brigitte glanced back to see him drop his pants and begin to untie his underwear. Her head snapped back forward immediately.
"I guess then the guy gets behind her, and if he has an erection...." That was the last Brigitte said on the matter. Adam had an erection - she felt it on her thigh after he lifted up her skirt.
She froze, taking shallow breaths. He was going to fuck her like an animal. She had basically asked him to. She could chicken out, but things had gone this far, and she didn't want to frustrate him. Beyond that, she was curious. Maybe it was more than curiosity - she couldn't really think clearly with his hands moving up and down her thighs. Adam untied her underwear and slid it down her thighs, leaving it bunched at her knees.
He joined her on the bed, right behind her. He squeezed her bare butt - so vulgar! Then his cock moved around between her labia. It slid freely thanks to her copious secretions, stimulating the many surfaces of her outer sex.
Brigitte glanced back at Adam. He was still wearing his shirt. He smiled at her as he began to penetrate her. He made a few shallow strokes and then pulled out, rubbing his cock around in her slit again before pushing it back in... and in, and in.
Brigitte's vagina had learned the feeling of being filled, but not like this. This cock was stretching her to new limits. Her insides were squeezed and displaced to make room for the boy's massive member. It was in equal parts exciting and alarming - would her body be permanently changed by this experience? She tried to look below her, wondering if her belly was visibly bulging, but her skirt blocked her view. She moved her hand to try to touch her belly, but just then he started thrusting with enough force that she needed both hands for support. Instead, she screwed her eyes shut and nervously enjoyed her pussy flesh repeatedly yielding to what she envisioned must be a horse cock.
Brigitte grunted with every one of her lover's thrusts. It didn't bother her that she couldn't see him: there was already so much to feel. There was a sort of wonderful purity to this submission of hers, too. Girls sometimes talked about "making love", but animals don't make love, they fuck. This was fucking, to satisfy an instinct and because it felt good - because their bodies were rewarding them for, maybe, making a baby.
Brigitte's body rewarded her with an orgasm. She expected that that meant Adam would be finishing soon too, but he kept pounding her pussy. A tiny part of her hoped that he would never come, and that he would keep doing this to her until dawn.
"Do you like it like this?" Adam asked.
"Yeah," Brigitte gasped.
"Tell me," Adam requested.
"I like it," she reaffirmed.
"You like what?"
"I love you fucking me like an animal!" Brigitte confessed, loudly.
"That's my girl," Adam said, and slapped her ass with his hand.
Instead of his hand returning to her hip, Adam grabbed hold of the thick leather belt Brigitte was wearing over her dress. He sped his fucking, controlling her and pulling her into his thrusts with her leather harness. Their flesh made a slapping sound every time it collided. That was the sound, she realized, that had drawn her to Dylan and Ella's taboo display the night before. Brigitte remembered Ella, with the stick in her mouth. She wondered what Ella had been holding back - what she had wanted to say to her lover, if she had dared make a sound.
"Make me come again! Please!" Brigitte found herself saying. It was already almost an inevitability, but she wanted him to hear it.
She came again, abandoning the last of her dignity and crying out inhumanly. Adam came too - she could feel it, and she was sure that his semen was all the way up inside her uterus. If there was an egg there, then they had definitely made a baby. It felt too good to not be true.
They lay next to each other and kissed endlessly. She would have come stains to clean out of her dress, but she didn't care. Holding him and kissing him was too important.
The lovers heard a commotion out in the hallway. Henry peeked in on Brigitte before stepping outside. Brigitte followed after buttoning back up.
"The kid from Izzy's room freaked out," John told them. His rifle was slung over his shoulder. "He screamed at me that he didn't do it - that she was hurt - and that he was going to get the doctor. There's a lot of blood on the sheets but Izzy swears she's fine.
Izzy protested that it was no big deal, but the Crater doctor insisted on taking her back to his clinic in a wheelchair. John accompanied her while the rest of her companions waited at the circuit house.
"Izzy, I'm really worried about you!" Brigitte insisted after Izzy and John returned. "You have to see Doctor Porter when we get back home - she's way better than that guy."
"It's nothing," Izzy told her. "My period came early. Sometimes that happens."
Brigitte continued to argue. "But two weeks early? That can't be healthy! It could be a symptom of all kinds of disorders! And with your trouble conceiving...."
Izzy sighed. "Come here - help me change these sheets," Izzy said, inviting Brigitte into her room. With a gesture she told John to stay outside.
"My period didn't come two weeks early, Brigitte, it came two days early," Izzy said once the door was closed. She began to replace the bedding.
Brigitte shook her head. "That doesn't make any sense. The Council wouldn't have sent you on circuit when you weren't ovulating."
Izzy put a hand on Brigitte's shoulder. "I've been lying to the Council about my monthly cycle. I make sure that I go on circuit a week before my period."
Brigitte was unsure whether she understood what the older girl was telling her. "But then that means you can't get pregnant," she stated. Izzy nodded and touched Brigitte's nose in affirmation.
"So, all these years? You've been going on circuit all these years and you don't even want to get pregnant?" Brigitte asked. "Why?"
Izzy chuckled. "I really hope that's obvious to you by now. Being with boys is fun. Sex is great."
"But...," Brigitte pressed, "what about your duty to the community?"
"My duty?" Izzy echoed. "I do plenty for our village, thank you! I bet every single person in Appa owns a piece of clothing that I made. And who does Doc Porter call to do her sutures when her arthritis is acting up? Me!"
Brigitte sat on the floor, nearly crying from this revelation. Izzy had always been the women everyone felt sorry for - the woman who wanted so badly to conceive but never could. She had been a living symbol of the spirit of persistence. In the last few days, she'd even been a sort of teacher for Brigitte. Now, it turned out she was a fraud.
Izzy sat on the floor next to Brigitte and held her hand. "Look, Brig, I get that you're the real deal. You're going to make a great mother. Really, awesome. But that's not me. I should have been born before-bunker, when women could have all the sex they wanted without worrying about who or when or why."
Izzy stood up and approached the door. "I know I'm not playing by the rules. But the rules don't suit me."
Day 5
Brigitte stared at her companions distantly on the drive home, as if watching fish in a pond. She wasn't feeling the way she was supposed to feel: pride at serving her community, pride at becoming a woman, hope that maybe there was a baby growing inside her. Instead all she felt was doubt. The traditions she had grown up believing in were no longer shining pillars holding up civilization; they had been blemished.
Maybe Izzy, Dylan, and Ella's perversions were the exceptions - sputters and bumps in the otherwise smoothly-running machinery of civilization. But what if they weren't exceptions? What if they were representative of a vast hidden truth: that the system Brigitte believed in so much didn't work?