Author: Sterling
Title: Fucking Feminists
Summary: Two women take their six children to a desert island to
start a feminist utopia. All intercourse is rape. But as the
younger generation comes of age, they eventually rebel, at first
because artificial insemination doesn't work. An older woman
clubs Paul's head trying to stop what she think is a rape. The
resulting brain injury turns him into a feminist's nightmare --
but for the open-minded, it's not so bad.
Keywords: mf mF MF rape preg Mm oral inc bro sis public

NOTICE: This story contains explicit sex.

First posted 11/16/2014.

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

I have written many other stories and they can all be found at
/files/Authors/Sterling/
For an index see
/files/Authors/Sterling/A%20%20SUBJECT%20INDE
X.txt

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

Sterling

And now, our feature presentation. Enjoy!


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Fucking Feminists

Prolog

Heather let Grace in and they sat at the kitchen table. She'd
said in her text it was bad news. It was so bad that the first
three times Grace collected herself to talk she'd start crying
again instead.

Finally, "The lawyer says Dave is going to get visitation. The
judge lifted the temporary order. The kids have to see him again.
You know how it was -- I had to peel the little ones off of me to
get them to go with him! I think he abuses Alison, she just gets
this stone face... I know it!"

Heather had heard the sad tale of Grace's marriage as it
unraveled. Dave really was a total bastard. Why women put up with
men at all was a mystery to her, but with someone like Dave...

She herself had had a longtime partner Ruth who was 20 years her
senior. Six months before she had died after a long battle with
cancer. Ruth had been sure she'd be there for the kids, but told
Heather she had to think about herself too. She made her promise
to do her best to find someone else. Ruth told her she could
grieve for six months but then it was time to move on. Telling
her how long to grieve had been a joke but not really a joke. Six
months had gone by -- eight months now -- and she still felt
awful. Looking for someone else just held no glimmer of appeal.

Heather's thoughts meandered as Grace continued to vent. What
about a new start? A change of scenery? When Grace had calmed
down some, Heather said, "We should leave the country, take the
kids with us so he can never get at them again."

Grace gave a quick, cynical laugh, but stopped when Heather
didn't smile. "Wait, could we really do that? Get away from Dave?
Where would we go?"

Grace's enthusiasm got her thinking in more detail. When she'd
been doing her linguistics field work in the South Pacific 15
years earlier, she'd made some contacts. There were little
islands tucked away that hardly anyone knew about. The natives
abandoned them because of the excitement and opportunities in the
city.

She had the proceeds from the sale of Ruth's consulting business.
Could they manage it? It seemed so impossible, but then, Why not?
To spend the rest of her life on an island with Grace? She
reminded herself once more that Grace was 100% straight, but even
so... The immediate need was to get Grace's kids away from Dave,
but there were other possibilities.

She and Ruth had spoken about it many times, this wish that they
could start over. They'd look at Molly and Tara and lament all
the messages society was already starting to dump on them, think
about all that they would suffer growing up under the patriarchy.
They would dream of leaving the US, then soberly realize that
most other countries were even worse for women.

On an island, they could bring the kids up with the right values.
Start a new society, uncontaminated by the patriarchy. The simple
desire to escape from the Vermont winters even played a role.

Grace's oldest was Alison, aged 10. Next came 7-year-old Kira,
with her youngest Paul just 4 years old. She herself had Molly,
age 8, and the twins Tara and Jacob, aged 6.

They could raise their boys right -- to be the true equals of
their sisters. As she and Grace brainstormed about it, they
thought further ahead. When the time came, the boys could each
marry one of the girls in the other family. There could be
grandchildren, and from that an ongoing little society in the
South Pacific. A feminist utopia, cleansed of the patriarchy.

And so it came to pass that the 2 women and their 6 children flew
to Tahiti, then by prop plane to an outlying island, and then by
boat to another island where they met Mr. Johnson. In his own
boat he gave them a tour of the deserted island, and they loved
it. A couple miles in length, half a mile wide. Sandy beaches, a
lagoon, a forested interior, a volcanic outcropping in the
center, and a spring. Fields that weren't badly overgrown. After
his work crew refurbished the run-down huts, Mr. Johnson
delivered them to their new home. He stayed a week, showing them
how to find coconuts, grow bananas and sweet potatoes, dig
shellfish, and catch regular fish. Heather arranged with him to
come back every 3 months to deliver supplies -- later they found
they could go 6 months. And then he left.

Heather and Grace named their community "New Hope".

============================================================
Chapter 1

Paul's childhood was... a childhood. Children are infinitely
adaptable, and however they are raised, it seems normal at the
time. His memories of the wider world were dim and few -- he'd
been just 4 when they left. The big girls and his mom and Heather
told him stories, but he was almost native-born to New Hope.

He would later realize that he had been given some messages
growing up that were unusual. He and Jacob were boys -- they had
penises and none of the others did. But he should never get the
idea for one minute that that made him special. In fact, he got
the definite idea that he was not as good as the others. In the
world they had come from, men had power over women and oppressed
them. Here in New Hope, there would be absolutely none of that.
Maybe there would even be some payback.

His mom and Heather made sure he did his share of dishes and
cooking and cleaning. He even thought the girls got to relax and
play more than he and Jacob did. He should always sit down on the
privy seat to pee. They said if he stood up that was flaunting
male privilege. If one of the women ever caught him peeing
outside, he would get a stern talking to. The girls and women all
used the privies, and he shouldn't think that having a penis gave
him the right to just pee on the bushes.

He was also the youngest, so he always knew less than everyone
else growing up. Sometimes the big girls teased him. Jacob seemed
to get along fine with the girls, but somehow Paul didn't fit in
quite the same way. When he whacked things hard with sticks, the
women would tell him that was the beginnings of violence, and
there was no need to whack that particular bush or rock or clam
shell. But -- he still wanted to, and he felt he was bad when the
urge arose.

The physical differences between boys and girls were apparent
growing up, as the kids all went around naked a fair amount. His
questions about how bodies work were always answered. But when
puberty was upon him, he finally absorbed the full message of the
facts of life. As he would realize later, the story had a twist
on New Hope it had nowhere else. The way babies were made was
that a man stroked his penis until the semen came out, and then
gave it to a woman, who placed it inside her vagina with her
fingers.

He had heard the history many times growing up, but now he really
got it. In the patriarchal world they had escaped, one way men
had controlled women was to lie on them and humiliate them by
forcing their penises inside of the women's bodies. The very
geometry of shoving something into another person's body was
violence. The men added insult to injury by peeing in them --
well, actually it was semen -- whether the women wanted it or
not. Sometimes the men started babies the women didn't want, and
of course it was the women who had to go through the 9 months of
pregnancy, not the men. In the patriarchy, the women were also
stuck with all the work of child care.

He learned about sexual attraction. Sometimes girls liked girls
and boys liked boys in a special way, and other times girls and
boys liked each other. If two of them wanted to, they could form
a partnership and sleep together at night. The partner of a woman
could give her pleasure by licking her between the legs in just
the right way. The partner of a man could give him pleasure by
stroking his penis up and down with her hand.

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

When he was 14, he became aware that his two big sisters were
both very interested in Jacob, who was then 16. They had no
interest in Jacob's big sisters -- not that way. They both tried
to get Jacob's attention. The older women made it clear that two
people should be involved with each other exclusively. In the
evil patriarchal world, some men had taken two women for
themselves, either divorcing an older woman to marry a younger
one, or secretly having a mistress on the side. That was an
aspect of the evil patriarchy, the idea that men were entitled to
multiple women. So if Jacob wanted to have a partner, he would
have to pick just one.

Flattered by the attention, Jacob picked Alison, then 20. They
became a couple and slept together. They weren't really married,
because in the patriarchy marriage had bad associations with
ownership. But still the others talked casually of Jacob as
Alison's husband and Alison as Jacob's wife.

Paul wondered how a couple acted. His mom and Heather were not a
couple. They slept in different huts, each with her kids. He knew
that his mother was the kind of woman who was sexually attracted
to men, while Heather was the kind who was sexually attracted to
women.

So Alison and Jacob were the first couple he had ever seen. When
he looked at them together, he noticed Alison beaming at Jacob.
Jacob was more reserved. He overheard his mother and Heather
noting that they were very impressed with Jacob, who was not
acting at all like he owned Alison or could tell her what to do.

He overheard Alison talking with their mother sometimes. Alison
was eager to have a baby, so when Jacob's semen came out, she
took it on her finger and pushed it up inside herself. He
overheard in more hushed tones a conversation among Alison, his
mother and Heather. Alison reported that Jacob really didn't like
licking her between the legs. Heather said that a man should be
willing to do that for his partner -- had the patriarchy somehow
slipped onto this island with them? His mom noted that no one
should do anything sexual unless he or she wanted to, and Heather
couldn't object to that. In fact, Jacob wasn't interested in
kissing Alison either, and he preferred to rub his penis himself
to make the semen come out rather than having Alison rub it, and
the women thought that was perfectly fine.

When Paul was 14, Molly was 18 and Tara was 16. They both
affected him in a way they hadn't when he was younger. He
confided to his mother his faster heartbeat and excitement in the
presence of the two girls who were not his sisters, and she
smilingly confirmed that that was sexual attraction and it was
just fine. And just to make sure he'd considered all the
possibilities -- no, he didn't feel that way about Jacob at all.

Paul was excited by Molly and Tara, and he realized that they had
been excited by him for some time. Now he was 14, the women said
it was OK if they wanted to do romantic things together. So he
found himself alone with Molly, kissing and hugging her. That
felt fantastic and made his penis really stiff. But other times
Tara managed to catch him alone and he really enjoyed kissing and
hugging her too. The two girls had been good sisters with each
other up until that point, but now they started arguing and being
mean to each other.

The mothers suggested that Paul really ought to pick one of them
and do his kissing and hugging with just her, to settle the
rivalry. Paul chose Tara. The women thought he was too young to
start sleeping at night with Tara, but they could find a private
spot during the day to do their hugging and kissing if they
wanted -- they did.

Then he was asked if he could provide semen for Molly, because
she wanted to have a baby. Both males were already taken, so
there was no one for her to partner with. Obviously it was much
healthier not to try to have a baby with her own brother, so Paul
was the only choice.

The women had said that he had to pick just one woman, but he
could provide semen to the other for artificial insemination.
That was just fine, and in fact that was how Molly, Tara and
Jacob had all been conceived. They didn't know their biological
father -- though Heather and Ruth had chosen the same father for
both of the pregnancies.

On New Hope, discussions of sex had been open but privacy also
respected. His mom asked him solemnly if he knew how to make his
body produce semen. He replied with equal solemnity that he did
in fact know that. He had in fact been making his body expel
semen regularly for some time now. He and Tara weren't sure if it
was permitted, so they didn't tell the others, but in their
private make-out sessions, she had started using her hand to make
Paul expel semen too.

He liked Molly and was happy to help her have a baby. For a week
or so out of every month Molly appeared at his door every evening
with a small dish. He went inside, rubbed himself and spurted his
semen into it, and after making himself decent again, he handed
it back to Molly. She disappeared into her own hut to finger it
up inside of herself.

Jacob was already servicing Paul's big sister Kira in the same
fashion.

When Paul was 15, he and Tara convinced the women that they
should be able to become a real couple and spend the night
together. Fifteen was too young in the outside world, but here on
the island things could be more relaxed. There was plenty of room
and plenty of food, and the island just seemed to call out for
babies.

Paul was excited when he finally got to move to his own hut with
Tara and sleep with her at night. He was especially eager to lie
in bed with her and hug, naked. His penis got very stiff doing
that, and he asked her to tell him if she ever felt his penis was
threatening or controlling in any way, and she solemnly agreed to
do that. But he got to fondle and kiss every part of her body.
She loved it when he sucked on her nipples, and they agreed that
was OK even though Paul's nipples were much smaller and he didn't
especially like to have them sucked. He also loved touching Tara
between the legs, and she loved to be touched there. They both
made sure he never penetrated her vagina with his finger, because
that was a violent act. Paul loved licking Tara between the legs
with his tongue, and he soon knew how to give her large,
satisfying orgasms.

As before, Tara was happy to stroke Paul's penis with her hand,
and he loved that. She could give him an orgasm and make his
semen come out, and that felt special to him -- much better than
when he did it himself. She reported the desire to take his penis
in her mouth, but they both knew that was a way of him dominating
her so they mustn't do that. Tara didn't know how that
patriarchal desire to humiliate herself had infected her, but she
reassured Paul that he had done nothing to encourage it. He was
relieved.

Even though he was now fully partnered with Tara, he of course
kept giving Molly semen. Tara liked to kiss him, stroke him, and
collect his semen in the dish and hand it out the door to her
sister. Paul could just lie back and enjoy the harvesting
process.

At 17 Tara was old enough to get pregnant, so she began inserting
Paul's semen into her own vagina too. And Paul felt a special
thrill to lie in the haze of afterglow and watch his wife open
her vagina with one hand and finger his semen into it with the
other. He felt a fascination with that vagina, a desire to insert
into that opening his own finger -- at least. He also felt
tremendous guilt at this violent patriarchal impulse. The inside
of her vagina would remain forever a mystery to him. It was only
for her to penetrate, and only when trying to make a baby.

However, their efforts to make babies weren't working.

In the year before Paul and Tara partnered, none of the other
three young women got pregnant. The older women urged everyone to
stay relaxed -- it sometimes took a while, and there was no cause
for alarm. But another year went by with all four trying, and
still no pregnancies.

Word came that Jacob was sick of providing sperm for Paul's
sisters, and only did it now and then, under protest. They all
liked the idea of some babies for New Hope, but there were none
in the offing.

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

Paul and Tara were walking around the island, hand in hand.

It was turtle mating season, and they came across a pair of the
beasts, male mounted on the female's back.

"Look at them. Patriarchal beasts," said Paul with a laugh.

Tara stopped to look. "Yeah, it may be, but it works. They lay
eggs and have little turtles." They walked on in silence several
yards and she said, "I've been thinking... Why don't we do that?
To make babies?"

"Well, we're civilized. And in us humans it's part of the
patriarchy, and that's bad."

"I know, I know... But that way works for making babies, right?
It's the way humans did it for years and years. It's the way
everyone made babies except some lesbos like my mom."

"It made babies, but it also was a root cause of the patriarchy."

Tara sighed. "Did you notice we're really short on babies? That
this new civilized method isn't working? The old way gets the
sperm right where it belongs -- in the right place, deep in the
vagina."

"We're also very short on the patriarchy."

"It takes more than one thing to make a patriarchy, right? The
problem with the fucking was that men made women do it, not the
act itself." That word 'fucking' was rarely used on New Hope, and
it conveyed the strength of Tara's feeling.

"But it's violent! It's a violation of a woman's body!"

"Well, maybe I want a violation of my body. Does that girl turtle
suffer or run away? No. The boy turtle shoves it into her, gives
her the sperm, and that's what she wants."

"This is crazy talk. What would our mothers say?"

"Why do we have to do what our mothers say? Do they own us?"

If there was one thing Paul felt deep down, it was that he had to
obey his mother and Heather.

Paul hurried ahead, ending the conversation.

Tara brought the subject up again several times, and he always
stood firm. He considered telling his mother about these strange
tendencies in his wife, but decided to keep it private.

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

Paul woke in the dead of night to a pleasant sensation. Tara was
gently stroking his penis, which was rapidly stiffening. She woke
him up that way now and then, and he really liked it. He had also
been known to massage a sleeping Tara between the legs, very
gently. They had given each other standing permission to do that
now and then without asking, so it was not a violation of
anyone's consent.

He was on his back, legs spread a bit. He was aware of Tara
shifting around, moving. She had hold of his penis, pointing it
upwards, and it bumped against something.

Curiosity piqued, he opened his eyes to look. In the dim light he
could make out Tara squatting above him, trying to point his
penis at her vagina!

"What are you doing?" he hissed loudly, pushing her away.

"I was trying to get some sperm up where I want it," she said
angrily.

"Well, you can't do it without my permission. No one has to do
anything with sex if he doesn't want to."

"Right. Looks like an anti-patriarchy, right? Here I am, trying
to steal sex from you."

"You're impossible," said Paul, turning away from her in bed.

Tara lay down, putting her back up against his.

After a few minutes, Paul turned over and spooned against her
back.

"What if we did it and then you felt really terrible and hated
me?"

She turned onto her back and looked at him. "Give me a little
credit, right? I say I want to try it, and I want to try it. Even
in the patriarchy, lots of women loved to get it over and over
again. It's all over the books we read. Penis in their vagina,
sperm shooting out deep." She demonstrated with a finger poking
in and out of the curved fingers of her other.

When Paul didn't say anything, she turned away and said with a
sneer, "Or you could do it to Molly. Then if she hates you it's
no big deal."

"You know the rules on that. That would be like bigamy, or an
affair."

"Fuck the rules! Our mothers don't own us," she said. "Besides,
you're ten times stronger than anyone else here."

"I'm sleeping over here," she said, going over to the other bed
they used as a place to read, tossing books onto the floor.

"Fine," said Tara.

Paul did not sleep for a long time. He kept going over his
conversation with Tara, over and over again. Now and then he
reflected on what she'd said about strength. It was true --
inside he would always be a little boy, but he was tall, and he
could lift logs and rocks no one else could. Jacob was older, but
had a slight build.

He hoped Tara's mood would lift in the morning, but she avoided
him and when their eyes met briefly she was plainly still angry.
That night as they lay down in different beds, she said, "You're
such a good boy, why don't you go back and sleep with your mommy.
And in the morning, make sure to get her permission before you
pee in the potty."

Paul felt a surge of anger. It's true his mother didn't own him,
but she was his mother! Tara's pestering was wearing him down,
making him doubt his convictions. For half an hour his thoughts
stewed.

There she was in the other bed, snoring just a little. She wanted
his penis in her vagina. Putting aside his doubts for the moment,
he thought about what it would be like. His penis approaching the
forbidden place, forcing its way into her body. The prospect made
him dizzy -- and very stiff.

The idea of trying the old, natural way of babies made sense --
if there was any excuse for rape, that was it. His penis
twitched. He was sick of fighting with her in this strange,
passive way.

Oh, to hell with it! He rose from bed, ditched his pajamas, then
stood beside her.

"OK, bitch, make like a turtle!" he growled.

She woke with a start, turned, and looked. Quickly getting his
meaning, she said "OK", but he realized she looked a little
frightened too. Well, to hell with that. She stripped naked in
seconds, and then knelt on the bed, presenting her butt to him.

He knelt behind her, opened her lips roughly, realizing how much
he wanted this. He stuck his penis tip in, and pushed. He felt an
exciting hot wetness at his tip, but it didn't go inside. He
pushed again, as hard as he could, but nothing happened.

"Wait, wait, we'll get it," said Tara. "Keep trying, just not
quite so hard."

So he kept poking, and she shifted around different ways. Then a
poke went in a bit, inside her body, surrounding his penis tip in
warm wetness.

Violence. He was inflicting violence on Tara. The excitement was
also overwhelming. Everything about his life up to this point had
been controlled, implications thought through. He was always on
alert for signs of the patriarchy emerging. But the tip of his
stiff cock was buried in a wet place between Tara's legs, a hot,
wet, and slick place. His hands grabbed her hips, and with grunts
he pushed his penis further and further into her. Every inch was
an extra violation, and every inch felt better than the last.

Make like a turtle, he thought. He jammed hard, and felt his
penis surge in until the tip bumped the end. And then he began
fucking, fast and hard and rude. When he felt the ecstasy of
orgasm approaching, he jammed one last time super deep while his
sperm spewed out. The pleasure was amazing. He felt he'd made
contact with his deepest nature, his true purpose in life.
Relaxing, he let himself slide out of her, and as he did he also
knew that he had betrayed everything he had been taught.

She held the position of her body, but her head dropped to the
pillow. "There, bitch. You satisfied now?" he said with some
bitterness.

He returned to his bed and turned to face the wall. Conflicting
emotions raged. He felt guilty about raping and humiliating Tara.
He was also aware of something very strong stirring, a beast. It
had also felt like the best thing he'd ever done in his life. It
was *right*. Did that mean the patriarchy was within him, ready
to burst forth?

Seconds after he lay down, Tara snuggled up behind him,
squirming, caressing, kissing. "Thank you, thank you, thank you,"
she said.

"So, you *liked* that?" said Paul.

"Yes! It hurt some, but I liked it. I liked it a whole lot! What
about you?"

"Well, um, it felt pretty good actually. Really good. Fantastic,
actually!" He sighed and groaned. "But what if my mother finds
out?"

"Oh, Paul, fuck your mother -- and mine too! We make our
decisions, they make theirs."

He felt a guilty surge of anger at the older women, then turned
to face Tara. They kissed and caressed. Soon his penis was stiff
again.

"So now -- if you're willing -- slide it into me again, the
normal human way, face to face?"

Paul was very willing. He mounted and buried his penis in the
special hole up between Tara's legs, the hole he now realized
he'd been aiming for his whole life. Tara smiled up at him. He
smiled back. When he started fucking faster and deeper, Tara
smiled more. It contradicted everything he'd been taught. He
fucked away for a good long time. When he felt good and ready, he
lunged and spurted.

It was like all their earlier licking and hand action had just
been a warm up. Finally they were doing what they really wanted
to be doing. They did it once more before falling asleep, then
did it again in the morning. They arranged to meet back in their
room around noon the next day and did it again. They did it
turtle style. They did it standing up. They did it with him flat
on his back, Tara plunging up and down on him. Day after day,
they did it at least twice, and were happier together than they'd
ever been. After a few days he suggested licking Tara again, and
she was happy to have an orgasm every couple days. But a lot of
the time she just wanted to get fucked.

The morning after the first time he fucked his mate, the world
looked brighter, more colorful, more vivid. He eyed Molly with
new interest. He wanted to fuck her too. Toss her down on a bed,
force her legs apart, and fuck it into her. Not that he'd do
that, of course. But if she wanted to... He felt some guilty
stirrings when he looked at his sisters Alison and Kira too.

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

Weeks passed. Tara missed her period, and she began feeling
changes in her body. She missed another period. It looked like
she was pregnant. Everyone was happy. Nothing was said publicly
about the change in technique that had been responsible.

One morning Molly looked at Paul a different way -- a sort of
shy, awkward way. It immediately hit him -- she wants to get
fucked. He was basically right, though they had some song and
dance to go through before she admitted it. When she caught him
alone, she said Tara had told her what they had done differently.
She spoke of their joint decision approvingly. She wanted to see
if it would work to get her pregnant too.

"So, would you like me to engage in sexual intercourse with you?"

"Well, if you wouldn't mind terribly. I know you're partnered
with Tara, but she said that it would be OK with her if we were
just trying to make a baby."

His mother and Heather couldn't tell him what to do. Why could
Tara?

"How'd you like to do it right now?"

"Oh! I don't think I'm fertile just now."

"To heck with that. I want to do it to you now. You willing?"

"Oh, I don't know... Um..."

He took her by the hand and led her to a seldom-used room. He put
his arm around her waist and pulled her tight against him, front
to front.

"I want to do it to you, right now," he growled.

She looked at him, eyes wide, confused.

"If we're going to do it later, why not now? If you say no to me
now, I might not feel like it later.... You've dreamed of it,
right? Getting a penis to stuff your pussy?" 'Pussy' was a word
they hardly ever used on the island, a swear word. His usage
conveyed an attitude.

"I... Well..." she said, then stopped.

He reached his hand up between her legs as she stood. After a
brief hesitation, she moved her feet wider apart to aid his
exploration. He cupped her labia through her panties, then
started massaging. She looked up at him in wonder.

"That gets you wet, right? It gets Tara wet, and when you two
used to share secrets you told her it does. And why does it get
you wet? Because your body is expecting a hard cock to fuck you!
Your body wants the cock, and the wet is just so the in and out
will be smooth."

She nodded, but then her brow furrowed. "'Fuck' is a bad word,"
she said.

"I've been taught my whole life to be so sensitive and make sure
I never offend a female. I'm sick of it. If you want to get a
baby this way, it will be by 'fucking', not 'making love'. What
I'm going to do now is fuck you. Fucking is what Tara and I call
it, and she loves it. I'm going to fuck your cunt, OK? Your cunt,
cunt, cunt! You still willing -- to get fucked?"

Molly looked at him, in evident shock at the bad words he used in
such profusion. But then she nodded.

"So, lie back."

She did.

"Pull your panties down... Spread your legs... Good girl..."

He pulled his own pants and briefs off, revealing his ready cock.

"This is what men and women are supposed to do," he said. "This
is the way to get pregnant."

She looked at him earnestly.

He worked himself into position and pressed. When he got his tip
poked against her opening, he realized she was just as tight as
Tara had been. But his cock was perfectly capable of doing its
job if he wanted to force it into her. He did.

Her eyes went wide as he pressed in. Her flesh gave way to his
tip, and then enveloped it. He started fucking, leaning hard on
the instroke, penetrating her more each time. Her vagina absorbed
the violence of each deeper invasion. It's just what it was made
for, he reflected, just like Tara's.

His face went slack with dumb animal pleasure. He fucked the
second pussy of his life. He glanced at Molly's face, but found
it hard to read. The old guilt and anxiety welled up in him, but
he cast it aside. Molly had agreed to be violated, he was doing
his job, and he'd worry about her feelings later. The pleasure
was immense, the urge to ejaculate built. He'd been taught that
ejaculation inside a woman was a final insult added to the injury
of violent penetration -- the assertion of enduring ownership.
Very well, Molly, he thought to himself, I hereby own you! And
his orgasm was especially intense as he joyfully spat many gobs
of sperm way up inside her.

He pulled out and lay beside her. "That felt fantastic!" he said,
and treasured his selfish satisfaction for a full ten seconds
before adding, "And what did you think?"

Molly said, "I've been taught my whole life that you were selfish
in not trying to give me pleasure. Then you raped me, and you're
an especially evil man because you already have a partner."

The words resonated within Paul's head, amplified over and over
because of course that was exactly what he had been taught too.
Shame and guilt washed over him.

"But I thought it was pretty nice. Not all good, but very
interesting. Something good that could be better." She paused.
"But of course, it's just for procreation, right? So it doesn't
have to get better..."

He studied her face, and then moved close and kissed her. She
looked confused, but kissed him back just a little.

"You know I had to choose one of you, and Tara was a bit more my
type, so I chose her. But I always liked you a whole lot. And you
were even a little more appealing sexually."

"Really?" she said.

As he brought his lips to hers once more, she said, "But what
about Tara?"

"Why can't I kiss you both? You don't have any better option,
right? And your sister would want you to be happy!" He added a
little wicked grin. Whether Tara wanted Molly to be happy in this
particular way was not at all clear.

Molly gave him a dirty look, then grabbed his head and brought
his lips to hers, kissing him passionately. Hands caressed gently
at first, then with more urgency. Remaining clothes vanished.

With Paul on his back, Molly knelt over him, gave him a
significant look, and then brought her face to his crotch and
took his penis into her mouth.

Paul was startled. Molly was degrading herself. But it felt
really good. And why not, if that's what she chose? Common
decency required that he warn her. "If you keep doing that, I'll
ejaculate in your mouth."

"That's OK," she said briefly before engulfing his penis once
more.

He was violating her, even though she was the instigator. To heck
with it. The itchy pleasure built, and he wiggled his hips and
thrust just a little.

"Oh, shit, Molly! That's great, oh, wow, oh, oh, aaaahhhhh!" He
delivered his spurts right into her mouth.

Molly raised her head and spit out his sperm onto his stomach.

He felt a weird surge of annoyance. "Hey, I gave you a gift! Are
you going to give it back?"

She hesitated, then smiled at him and then dove down, licking the
semen off his stomach and swallowing it.

That was better.

"Well, this has been nice," she said, looking around and reaching
for her panties.

"No, stay with me a bit more -- if you're willing."

She hesitated and then snuggled up against him.

He slid his hand between her legs and began stroking her pussy.
Before long she started murmuring and twitching her pelvis just a
little this way and that. It took a few minutes for him to
recover from his last orgasm, but his penis rose to full
readiness before long.

"I want to fuck your cunt again," he said.

After the briefest hesitation, she gave a big grin and lay back
with legs spread very wide, ready for the taking.

He mounted and aimed. It was like a dance they knew. They'd only
done it once before, but they'd also been doing it for millions
of years.

Paul held himself up, feasting his eyes on the sight of Molly's
sizable breasts jiggling with each fresh violating thrust,
feasting his eyes on her hips, her spread legs, her tuft of hair,
and the intimate spot below that tuft where his stiff patriarchal
prong was plunging in and out. It felt good, and he was happy to
go on and on, shifting position slightly now and then. After one
shift, Molly said, "Oooo! Just like that, keep doing that!"'

Paul figured he was free to fuck her any way he chose. But this
way felt as good as any of the other angles, so he kept doing it.
He certainly had nothing against making Molly happy. Her moans
and gasps became more urgent, and in under a minute she gave a
big gasp. Male violence led to the ultimate in female
satisfaction. Paul fucked away like crazy then, spurting into
Molly's depths seconds later.

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

When Paul went to bed with Tara that night, he said, "I fucked
Molly today."

"Oh," said Tara. "Is she fertile? I thought it would be a while
yet."

"No, she wasn't. I did it because I felt like it. She was
willing. Then later we kissed and made out and did it again."

"Paul! That's... Making babies is one thing, but..."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. One man, one woman. But guess what? There's
no man for Molly. I like her a whole lot. I like you a whole lot.
Why not both of you?"

"Because... because..." Tara started crying. Paul held her. He
could see it would be hard for her to give up his undivided
attention, but it also seemed only fair.

A few days later she surprised him by taking his penis into her
mouth, something she'd never done before. She licked and sucked
until he shot his goop at the back of her mouth. She swallowed.

"Did you compare notes with Molly?" he said with a suspicious
smile.

"Well, yes," she said, looking away. "But you didn't mind,
right?"

As weeks went by she seemed to get over her distress, perhaps in
part because he fucked her with as much enthusiasm as before. Or
perhaps she realized that if she made an ultimatum, he'd just
partner with Molly instead.

But he didn't hesitate to use his experience with Molly to
benefit Tara. He duplicated the motion that had given Molly an
orgasm, and although it took a long time, Tara finally had an
orgasm that way too, without benefit of tongue.

Paul divided his attentions between the two sisters, slipping
into Molly's hut in the middle of the night when everyone else
was asleep. When it was anywhere near the middle of Molly's
cycle, he saved all his sperm for her, depositing it way in deep
where it had the best chance of achieving its purpose.

After the second month of vigorous mid-month full-fledged
fucking, Molly got pregnant too.

The pregnant women confided their secret to conception to his
sisters Kira and Alison.

With this new possibility in mind, Alison reported she caressed
Jacob, hoping to lead him to the desired end -- or at least to
give her some sperm she could finger up inside, but he didn't
respond. When she found him hard in the middle of the night once,
she tried taking advantage of that to stroke him, but Jacob woke
soon and was angry with her.

Alison asked her little brother if he would have a talk with her
husband.

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

"Hey, Jacob," Paul said, when the moment was right during their
walk down the beach. "You know how your sisters are pregnant?"

"Yeah, that's great! Congratulations!"

"Do you know what we did differently?"

"No, what?" said Jacob.

"We had sex the old-fashioned way. Penis in vagina. Ejaculation
inside vagina."

"Yeah, right," laughed Jacob.

"No, really, we did."

"Oh. Wow."

"It feels great. I'd highly recommend it."

"So they didn't mind being raped and humiliated that way?"

"No, they actually both like it a lot."

"You're crazy. Going against everything our mothers have taught
us."

"Yeah, well, not everything our mothers said is right. We're
adults. We get to decide how to live."

"But you're going to recreate the patriarchy... Does Alison know
about the rapes?"

"Yeah, she does. The women talk."

"So that explains it..."

"What?"

"Never mind."

"Anyway, she'd really like you to do it to her, but she wanted me
to ask you because she's afraid you'll be mad at her."

"Well, I'm glad she's willing, but I'm not going to throw away
everything we've worked for in this community."

"It's not very hard, you know. It doesn't take long. You wait
'til it's stiff, then climb up on her and stick it in. It doesn't
take more than a few seconds, then the stuff come out, but it
goes way in deep where it seems to work better."

"Yeah, I know how the animals do it."

"Well, why not be an animal if it's to make a baby?"

"No."

"If you don't like Alison, you could do it to Kira. She's willing
too."

"No. If you like doing it so much, why don't you fuck them?"

"They're my sisters! We don't want any two-headed babies. All you
gotta do is get it up into them and spurt? What kind of a man are
you, anyway?"

Jacob hesitated before fixing Paul with his gaze. "No, the
question is what kind of a man are you?"

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

Paul was lying in the sun after a swim when he heard footsteps
approach.

"Is it true?" asked Heather in a loud voice.

"What? Uh, hi," said Paul.

"Is it true you've been raping my daughters? Pregnancy from
rape?"

Paul sat up. Heather was a very intimidating woman. She been
almost a second mother to him growing up. Not the kind you run to
for hugs, but the kind who instructs and admonishes. He felt like
a small boy again.

"Um, yes, we have. I mean, that's why they're pregnant. We've
been doing rape together."

"Doing rape together? What the hell do you mean? YOU have been
raping THEM! Blaming the victim doesn't cut it."

"Actually, it was their idea." That didn't sound so good. Like
tattling.

"Sexual intercourse is rape, it is always the man's fault -- you
could hardly get an erection against your will now, could you?
It's part of the patriarchy, and I can't believe you have
reinvented it here on the island!"

Paul felt a bit of his adult self re-emerging. "Tara really
wanted a baby. The civilized way of doing it wasn't working. You
knew that. So she wanted to try the old-fashioned way. The way
all babies were made until recently."

Heather stomped on the sand. "Better to have no babies than
reintroduce rape."

"How did you find out?" asked Paul.

"My son, Jacob... He's a man for you, a liberated man who fits
into the new society free of any trace of patriarchy. He even
said you pulled one of the classic moves of the patriarchy --
insulting his manhood. Telling him that if he didn't rape your
sisters -- YOUR sisters! -- then he wasn't a real man."

"I didn't mean it that way --"

"And then you have an affair. You think you're entitled to
another woman too. Cheat on your wife, play them off against each
other."

"There was no other man, except their brother. Molly wanted to
get pregnant."

"Oh, excuses, excuses! What will we do with you..." She stormed
off.

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

"Tara, Tara," said Paul, catching up with his wife washing
clothes in the lagoon. "The shit hit the fan. Your mother knows."

"Oh, no... How did she find out?"

"Jacob, the little shit. I asked him if he'd screw my sisters so
they could get pregnant too, and he went off in a huff and
tattled to his mommy."

"Oh, no, what do we do now?"

"Could you tell your mother it was your idea? Back me up on
this?"

Tara hesitated briefly, bit her lip, and then said, "Sure." She
didn't look him in the eye.

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

Heather convened a meeting of the entire community.

"When we established this New Hope community, there was one
principle above all that it stood for. The end of the patriarchy.
We gave up our friends and families to create this new world for
you. We brought with us two boys who have now grown into young
men. One of them, Jacob, understands how this world runs. He
knows how to treat women. The other..." She faced Paul.

"This man has reintroduced rape onto our island. The act that
lies at the heart of the patriarchy. Violent penetration of the
female body, subjugating her to his will. He has done this not
once, no, but many times. He has brainwashed Tara into thinking
she wants this and rapes her constantly. Then he began raping
Molly too. Taking a second woman, and raping her too. Raping them
both until they became pregnant. Their bodies are now occupied by
his child. He relaxes in the sun while they have no choice but to
carry these babies like parasites within their bodies..."

Grace spoke up tentatively. "But Heather, they wanted to get
pregnant."

Heather whirled and glared at Paul's mother. "When they could of
their own free will put the semen in their own bodies, that was
one thing. But for Paul to rape them -- sorry, that just was not
their choice any more."

"This is bullshit!" said Paul, rising out of his chair. "They
wanted me to do it. They asked. Tara asked me and I refused, and
she kept asking and asking, and then finally I agreed to do it.
Tell them, Tara."

"Well," said Tara, stammering and stealing glances at her mother.
"I raised the idea, I guess," she said. "Thought it was something
to think about."

"Something to think about? You were trying to trick me into doing
it by finding me asleep at night with an erection and trying to
get it into you!"

"Oh, really? I don't remember, not really..." said Tara, looking
down while turning pink. Paul realized that for all she had urged
him not to worry about what his mother thought, she was
frightened of her own mother.

Heather rose. "Sit down!" she commanded Paul. He sat.

"See? You're a liar, Paul. A liar and a rapist. A male chauvinist
pig. A disgrace to everything we've accomplished here." She
looked around at the faces watching her.

"And I've decided what we have to do. The next time the supply
boat comes, Paul is going to leave with it."

Everyone looked at Heather, many with shock. Paul's head spun. To
go back into the world? By himself? He had no idea how the world
worked, these were the only people he knew...

"But --" began Grace.

"We discussed it, and you agreed," said Heather firmly.

"We discussed it as a possibility --"

Paul rose and took a few steps towards Heather. "I'm not going."
He looked around at the others. "What's the matter with you? Who
appointed her dictator?" he said, pointing.

"Sit down!" said Heather.

"No," said Paul. He was nearly a foot taller than her, his body
that of a young man.

"Don't think you can intimidate me!" said Heather. "Sit down!"
she said, shoving him hard back towards his seat. Paul stumbled
back, but caught his balance.

"No," he said, in front of Heather again. "You sit down!"

"How dare you!" hissed the older woman. She pushed on Paul's
chest, but he was ready and this time didn't budge. Instead, he
gave a gentle shove to Heather's chest and she stumbled back,
half on the floor and half against the chair. She scrambled up to
sitting position.

Jacob rose when Paul pushed his mother. "Hey, cut it out!" he
said.

"You sit down too!" He was standing a way he'd never stood
before, thinking thoughts he'd never really let himself think
before, looking down at the shorter man. He was willing to punch
Jacob, to attack him.

After a brief hesitation, Jacob sat.

Heather said from her seated position, "And now you use your
physical strength to bully women. You challenge other men. Don't
you women see it? See what he's doing? I couldn't believe it
would happen so fast. Male domination, in all its forms,
appearing in this deviant man! He's trying to take over! But we
can resist if we work together. We're strong together."

There was no talk or movement in support of Heather's suggestion.

Paul said, "How many of you want me to leave on the next supply
boat?"

Heather's hand shot up, and Jacob's. Molly and Tara looked
uncomfortable, but didn't raise their hands.

"How many of you want me to stay?" Paul raised his own hand. The
other 5 who hadn't voted raised their hands one by one.

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

Paul walked through an afternoon breeze to his sister Kira's hut.

"Hi, Kira."

"Hi, Paul."

"Tara said you wanted to see me about, um, making a baby."

"Jacob doesn't even try any more. He used to give me a sample
every other month or so -- but not any more. He doesn't even give
samples to Alison."

"Yeah, I don't know what's wrong with him. He even gets it that
his mother isn't in charge any more, that she's not going to beat
him up."

"But it's no use. That leaves you."

"Right. Your full-blooded brother."

"I know, but lots of times there aren't any problems, right? I
mean, the chances are greater, but most of the time it works out
OK. Like when a baby is conceived in incest. It's risky, but
otherwise I don't get to have any babies at all."

"That much makes sense. I guess I could start giving you samples.
But it's really hard to get excited about that when I have two
pussies I can fuck any time I want."

"You really are losing your feminism, aren't you?"

"Well, I'm pissed off that I was raised like a second-class
citizen. Women like to get fucked -- at least Tara and Molly do,
and I like to fuck them."

"I've thought about that too," said Kira, looking down. "I'm not
sure, you understand, but it's an, um, interesting idea."

"You want a man to commit violence on you, subjugate you,
humiliate you?"

"Well..." she said. "Your two women like it, and when I think
about it... I kind of shudder." She shuddered.

Paul looked at her. "Now?"

"Well, I don't know..."

That meant now. They were in her bedroom. No one else was around.
Another pussy!

He didn't feel like kissing her, so he just stripped. She did
too. There she was, lovely breasts, pubic hair, welcoming hot,
moist tunnel below -- but his penis was completely soft.

"Let's see about getting you ready," he said, and moved his hand
between her legs. He rubbed the way that Tara and Molly liked it.
Kira closed her eyes and smiled. The problem was his lack of
readiness, not hers. Come on, man! Here's a pussy ready for the
fucking. All you have to do is get stiff and fuck it. No dice.

Kira moaned and said, "I'm ready." She opened her eyes and saw
the problem. "Oh," she said.

"I don't know what's wrong," he said. "You're beautiful, you're
hot, you're sexy."

"But I'm your sister..."

"I'm trying to ignore that part, but somehow it doesn't seem to
be working."

"Well... I do really think of you as my brother -- can't seem to
forget it. My fantasies are all about Jacob doing it. I mean,
you're more handsome, but just not for me, somehow. Maybe it's
the same for you?"

"Yeah, maybe... I could give you a sample, at least, I think."

"That would be nice."

"Um, maybe if you take a walk to the beach and back and I'll have
it for you." The path to the beach was about a quarter mile long.

"OK."

With his sister gone and images of Tara in his mind, he rapidly
stiffened, jerked for a while and spurted. When Kira returned, he
was just relaxing on his back, semen on his stomach.

"Can I watch you stick it up there?" Paul said.

"Well, OK," said Kira, stripping from the waist down. She held
her pussy open with her left hand, took a finger of sperm with
her right and shoved it in as far as she could.

But with the total failure of that method in the past, they were
not going to wait a few months to see if it worked.

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

Tara explained the plan, and Paul thought it sounded good.

In the dead of a moonless night, Paul got very stiff feeling the
contours of his wife's body. Her belly was big enough that he did
her from the rear, plunging in and fucking away. The image of
their first sex came back to him. When he was good and excited,
he pulled out and groping to his left found another female rear
end and pretended it was Molly. There was the pussy slit, and he
worked his phallus into it. This female was a virgin, she was
tight, but he pressed hard and made his entrance.

The female sucked in her breath. Paul got on with the fucking. He
fucked her for a good long while, making sure she understood just
what her vagina was meant for and how the process of getting
fucked worked. When he was good and ready, he jammed himself into
her deep and blew his load. As the last dribble left his penis
tip, he let himself remember that this was his darling big sister
Kira.

"So, what did you think?" he panted.

Her voice came from the darkness. "It hurt. My pussy isn't deep
enough to take your whole salami."

"So you never want to do it again?" he asked, guilty. "Why didn't
you say something?"

"Of course I want to do it again! I feel -- alive in a new way.
It just hurt too."

Tara spoke. "Oh, it will adjust. Mine did; Molly's did."

Paul said, "I suppose I could just not fuck in quite so hard..."
His wave of anti-feminist feeling re-emerged. "Nah, forget that.
If you want to get stuffed with cock, you get the whole thing."

Kira said with a teasing tone, "What happened to the cute little
boy who would do anything I said?"

"I grew into a big man, and I realized I resented being told the
whole time I was growing up that I was just evil waiting to
happen. And now I'm the strongest guy on the island, the alpha
male."

"So now are you going to order us all around."

"I'm thinking about it," he said in the dark.

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

And so the sisterly fuckings began. After a few times in the
dark, his body got the idea that Kira was for fucking after all
and he could screw her in the light face to face and enjoy the
experience fully. He needed to start in the dark with Alison too,
using Kira's pussy as a warm-up so he could deflower the other
virgin with a stiff tool.

Tara and Molly got very large, and brotherly sperm united with
sisterly egg the first time Kira produced one. But Alison kept
getting her periods, month after month.

============================================================
Chapter 2

Heather seethed for a good long while after being intimidated and
shoved by Paul. She discussed it endlessly with Grace. At first
she thought the other woman was just sticking up for her son,
right or wrong.

But gradually she had come to see that the situation really was
very different from the outside world they had left behind.

For one thing, Jacob really just wasn't interested in sex with
women at all. He was gay! She'd brought up the subject with him
very indirectly, and he'd denied it in a way that let her know
that he kind of knew he was, even if he hadn't accepted it yet.
So she wasn't going to tell another soul. You didn't out someone.

That left Paul as the only man on a largely unpopulated island.
She understood the young women's eagerness to have babies. The
open space and the plentiful food just made babies seem right.

She didn't like to think about the copulation that was going on.
Her memory of the one time she had been penetrated made her
shudder. It just seemed like a horrible act. Yet she knew
intellectually that men and women had been doing it forever. And
some women apparently did find it pleasurable. But she still
thought that giving in to that temptation was part of feeding the
patriarchy. Pleasure lay in the clitoris, not the vagina. But
choice -- it really was about choice, wasn't it?

Reason only goes so far, though. Every time she thought of Paul
as ruler of the island, Heather's blood pressure shot up. Heather
and Grace knew far more about the world than any of the younger
generation, they knew the evils of the patriarchy -- they knew
best. It was unfortunate that Paul thought his ideas were better.
But democracy was the right way to go, in theory, and its time
had come on their island. And men did deserve the right to
participate in democracy -- though she couldn't get over her gut
feeling that the world would be a better place if it was run by
women.

Grace had pointed out early on that he didn't tell the others
what to do. Paul had never threatened Heather again. She'd never
ordered him around again either, while some men in the patriarchy
would have made a point of showing her who was boss.

Paul had been trying to help Heather's daughters get pregnant for
years without success by the civilized method. He had given them
semen to insert into their own vaginas, and she fondly recalled
how she had conceived all three of her children by that method.
But that hadn't worked here. And the disgusting animal act of
copulation had made both of her daughters pregnant, and now Kira
too.

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

As Tara 's due date approached, Heather and Grace marshaled all
their knowledge and what materials they could in preparation for
the birth.

And so it came to pass that by way of a completely natural
childbirth -- not that she had any choice -- Tara had brought
into the world a perfect little girl who she and Paul named
Stacy.

A couple months later, Molly had given birth to Peter. It was a
breech delivery, but they had managed it somehow.

The presence of babies made the fight against the patriarchy slip
from Heather's mind. When she saw the love in Paul's eyes as he
held his son or daughter, she thought there really was hope.
Maybe she could worry less about the ultimate shape of their
little society and enjoy life right now. Other times she reminded
herself that vigilance was the way -- eternal vigilance.

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

Heather woke as from a nightmare, and then realized that the
voice she heard was not coming from a dream. It was faint but
distinct.

"No, no, please! Anything but that! No, no, leave me alone!" said
a high voice.

"Forget it, bitch. You're mine!" said the low voice, who could be
no one but Paul.

She was up at once, frantic, and pulled on her robe. The memories
flooded her of her own rape: the knife, the sneer of the man as
he'd violently penetrated her body, his laugh as she cried in
pain, his running commentary on how good it felt...

She must at all costs protect this woman, as no one had protected
her. She emerged from her hut, and thought of shouting, but then
thought again of how Paul could overpower her with ease. She
couldn't best him by strength alone. Looking around, she grabbed
the replacement porch railing they hadn't put in yet, and
followed the sound.

"Ow! No, you're hurting me! Please stop, no, no...."

"Shut up and hold still, bitch," growled the man's voice.

She turned the corner and saw them. There was the woman, on her
back, dress shoved up around her middle, shaking her head from
side to side. And there was the man, with shirt on but lower part
naked, mounted on her, bottom contorting as he violated the
woman, hard, over and over. His hands pinned her upper arms to
the ground, and he grunted, muttering, "You dirty cunt, filthy
cunt..."

Further enraged by the horrible language, in one motion Heather
approached and swung the board hard, bringing it down on the
man's head.

He groaned and fell limp onto the woman, who said, "What the
hell? Paul?" She scrambled out from under him. "Who...? Heather!
What the hell?" It was Alison.

"Are you all right, honey? I came as fast as I could."

"I'm fine. What did you do to Paul? No, no... Paul! Paul!" She
was screaming now.

"I know a rape when I hear one, and that was rape!"

"You killed him! We were pretending! It was make-believe!"

The words stung. her whole world upside down. Figures appeared in
the moonlight, bending over Paul, talking with Alison, glancing
warily at Heather. It was Grace who took the board from her hand.

Paul wasn't dead, but he was unconscious for many days. Some
young woman was with him around the clock, as he lay in his bed
in his hut. Heather lay in her own bed for much of the day --
crying, stunned, guilty. It was her son Jacob who came to sit
with her and offer her comfort. She had told Ruth about her rape,
but Ruth had been dead so many years now... Jacob was the second
person she revealed it to. She didn't go into all the detail, but
she conveyed how horrible it had been. Jacob listened and
accepted.

Then Paul began to stir, to everyone's delight. He opened his
eyes weakly, but gave no indication he understood what anyone was
saying. He swallowed some broth Kira offered him. In the ensuing
days he was mostly out cold, but occasionally woke to drink more
broth.

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

Alison was beside herself.

She thought about what Heather had heard. They had been acting
their parts with gusto. "Please stop! No, no!" "You dirty cunt,
filthy cunt!" Not much doubt what it sounded like. Heather had
been doing the decent thing.

Had Alison killed Paul? Not entirely. She told herself all
Heather had to do was shout or ask what was wrong, and it would
have been cleared up. But still, it felt to Alison like a big
part of it was her fault.

She wanted a baby so much. She and Paul had been trying different
things, and this rape play had been her idea -- though he had
been enthusiastic and needed no convincing. To do it outside, on
the ground, in the middle of the night was an added twist.

Days turned into weeks. The mothers brought their babies in from
time to time, hoping they might help Paul come back to life.
Heather never visited, and Jacob wasn't there often. Grace, Kira,
and Alison were there most. But they eventually left him alone at
night. He didn't have crises that needed attention -- he mostly
just slept.

One thing Alison noticed was that sometimes there was a lump
under the sheet. When she was alone with him once, she peeked
underneath and saw Paul's organ in its stiff readiness.

The rape play had been at what she estimated was her most fertile
day, and she occasionally had the guilty wish that Paul had
ejaculated before Heather knocked him out -- just possibly she
would have at least gotten her baby. But as it came around
towards her fertile time again, she considered. Paul certainly
liked sex. If they all thought babies in the room might give him
some interest in life, why wouldn't some sexual stimulation?

She crept in to his room in the middle of the night and caressed
his face and hair. He didn't stir. Removing the sheet, she ran
her hands over his body -- a body she had liked when it just
belonged to her little brother. But more recently she had come to
adore it. Then she let her hands approach his limp penis. She
lightly caressed his pubic hair and ball sac and the penis
itself. Slowly it filled with blood. She rubbed it gently with
her hand. As it got stiff, she made her hand like a vagina and
stroked up and down gently. It got fully stiff. On impulse, she
bent over and took the tip in her mouth as she continued to
stroke up and down. She'd never done this before -- he was her
brother, after all, and attempted impregnation was really the
main point of their time together. She tried different things
with her tongue. She felt his pelvis push up just a little.
Instantly she stopped and looked to see if he was awake, but
there was no sign of it. She engulfed his hot, swollen knob in
her mouth once more and began flicking her tongue. All at once
his pelvis pushed up a little harder and a great flood of
weird-tasting stuff erupted in her mouth. Startled, she pulled
her head back and saw two more spurts shoot out.

She gave a guilty smile as she spit out the contents of her
mouth. At least his parts still worked. Some part of his brain
must be happy? She remembered her ultimate purpose, hitched up
her dress, straddled his body, and fingered the semen up into her
vagina as best she could.

Actually she had just assaulted him sexually -- he certainly was
in no condition to give consent. She wet a cloth with the water
from the pitcher and cleaned him up. No one else should know
about this.

The next night was the early side of her fertile period as best
she could tell. She crept into Paul's room in the middle of the
night, got him erect with her hands, and then mounted him in the
moonlight. They had tried this position sometimes, so she knew
how to do it. She impaled herself on his erection and began to go
up and down. It was a good position for giving herself an orgasm
ordinarily, but she didn't care about that now. She very much
wanted Paul's orgasm. She lifted herself up and down, trying to
imitate the motion he used when he was about to come. It was
tiring work, but eventually his pelvis lifted up slightly once,
and she immediately went up and down faster. She felt his pelvis
push upward a little more than usual and when she held still,
felt faint twitches in his penis. A few seconds later, right on
cue, she felt it begin to shrink inside her. But she stayed
engaged, looking down at him, tears in her eyes. Many minutes
later, when his penis was just an insignificant floppy thing, she
pulled away.

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

Alison crept quietly into Paul's hut and looked into his room,
then froze. Another figure was kneeling by the bed, mouth on
Paul's penis much as hers had been before. It was Jacob! As she
watched, she saw his lips come off Paul's organ, which started
shrinking as Jacob spit out the contents of his mouth. He then
mounted Paul in reverse direction. Since the head of Paul's bed
was towards the door, it was Jacob's backside she saw, and she
saw him using his hand to rub the shrinking organ around his
anus. He then turned around and straddled Paul's pelvis. With one
hand he encircled Paul's phallus, and with the other he jacked
his own penis rapidly. Seconds later, his semen spurted onto
Paul's chest and Jacob sat back, breathing heavily. Only then did
he see his "wife" Alison watching him.

"Oh, shit," he said softly. "It's not what it looks like, I
swear!"

It was hard to see any other way to see it. But she strode
forward. "I wanted that stuff."

"Um, which?"

"Well, I wasn't expecting to find you here, now, was I -- but
I'll take all I can get. Shovel it into me -- that's the least
you can do!"

So as Alison herself straddled Paul and held her vaginal lips
open wide, Jacob dutifully fingered up the combined mess of his
and Paul's ejaculations and tucked it up inside her.

When she dismounted and sat on a chair by the bed, Jacob put his
pants back on and sat on the other.

"So you're gay. That explains a lot." When Jacob didn't say
anything, she continued, "OK. Hmmm. I'm sorry. Your mom's gay,
right? I mean a lesbian. And it's just fine. It's fine to be gay.
But not so good for a woman to be married to one..." She paused,
making connections in her mind. "And so it's really easy to
uphold the feminist ideal if you really don't want to have sex
with a woman at all."

"Feminist ideals are good. Sticking my penis into any of you is
the most disgusting thing I can imagine," he said. "You want to
know my fantasy?"

"Um, OK."

"Really? I mean my real fantasy?"

"Yes, tell me."

He pointed. "I want that cock up my butt! Deep and hard -- so
hard it hurts. Violent penetration!"

Alison shrugged. "Maybe it's not violent between men, since
neither one of them is a woman who can get screwed by the
patriarchy."

Jacob smirked, then giggled. Alison giggled. Soon they were both
laughing. She rose to give him a hug, which he accepted warily.

"So am I an OK person? You don't despise me?"

"No," sighed Alison.

"It was really hard to get pestered constantly... 'Give me some
sperm!' And then later, 'Why won't you fuck me? Paul does it!'
Over and over again."

"I'm sorry. Why didn't you just tell us?"

He paused. "You know the person who I didn't really want to find
out..."

Alison thought a moment, then pointed at Paul.

Jacob nodded. "I couldn't stand the thought of him rejecting me,
making fun of me. I've been in love with him for years."

"I'm sorry, Jacob..."

"And then when he went into his coma, I'm grief-stricken, like
everyone else -- but I can't really show how much. And then, it
dawned on me that I might finally be able to have sex with him.
And it's creepy and disgusting."

"Poor Jacob," said Alison, hugging him. "I can't blame you. Look
what I'm doing."

"Well, you know he'd love to be banging you if he was awake,
trying to get you pregnant."

"Well, what he doesn't know won't hurt him. I mean, he's not gay,
that's for sure, but he'd want you to be happy, right? He's a
nice guy."

"Yeah," sighed Jacob, caressing Paul's hair. With a glance at
Alison, he bent down and gave him a slow, significant kiss on the
cheek.

Alison said, "When we get him cleaned up, you want to come back
to our bed and just lie together, like brother and sister?"

Jacob nodded. Then he smiled and said, "HE's your brother!"

"I know," whined Alison. "It's complicated, isn't it?"

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

Jacob came out to everyone, and a source of tension in the
community was relieved. The women felt like they were getting to
know the real Jacob for the first time.

Everyone marveled at the babies' milestones: head control,
creeping, crawling...

Just a week after Alison and Jacob's heart-to-heart in the middle
of the night, Jacob sought her out during the day, reporting that
Paul had stirred as he was getting him erect. He wondered if she
he should stop, and after much talk, he reached the conclusion
Alison had -- he really had to.

Paul was slowly getting better. He was awake a lot more, and he
began to eat solid food. He walked around his room unsteadily for
brief periods. He didn't speak, however, or give any indication
he understood what was being said. It wasn't deafness -- he
didn't respond to obvious attempts at sign-language communication
either, and he did startle in response to loud noises.

Alison stopped visiting him at night shortly after Jacob did. It
just felt like sexual abuse if he was aware of what was going on
but couldn't really consent.

But by the time her next fertile period came around, her thoughts
took a different direction. She wanted a chance for a baby -- she
deserved it! And while Jacob was willing to give her semen for
her to shove up into herself, they'd been doing that for years
without success. What had worked for the other three was real
penis-in-vagina violation. Paul was vital as a male animal. When
in his right mind he had been very enthusiastic about fucking
away like an animal -- Alison felt a little thrill just
remembering. So what if his mind was that of an animal -- why not
relate to the part of him that was working?

"Hi, Paul," she said, but he was sleeping.

She pulled down the sheet and began caressing his penis. It
slowly grew. His eyes opened. He looked at her without
comprehension, but he also smiled. As she rubbed his penis, he
smiled more. If she paused, the smile faded.

"Would you mind, Paul? Would you mind if I stole some of your
sperm?"

Getting no reply, she took off her skirt and panties and
straddled him, looking closely at his reaction. He didn't object,
and his eyes focused on her crotch.

"You used to like shooting sperm into women. Do you still? You
mind if I find out?"

She slowly impaled herself on his erection. He smiled a little
more. When she had him fully inside her she started going up and
down. His pelvis thrust upward a little once, and then again. She
adjusted her movements to his little thrusts. Four thrusts later,
he pushed upward a little more and let out a big "Oooooohhhhh!"
of contentment. She trusted that his body was doing the sperm
transfer. She lay forward on him and looked into his eyes. He had
a blank look of contentment but she felt no human connection.

When she came the next night for her insemination, he pulled the
sheet down himself. He'd never done that before! As she exposed
her lower womanly parts his eyes fixed on them. His penis grew
all by itself.

"Are you getting better?" she asked. "You really want to do this,
don't you?"

He said nothing, but shifted around in agitation until she had
absorbed his entire cock inside her pussy. Then he calmed down.

This time his upward thrusts were more deliberate and began
sooner. She held herself up off his body an inch or so to let him
do the fucking. His strokes were weak and small, not even an inch
of back and forth. But after ten of them he moaned his pleasure.
Alison smiled as her body received the gift his body offered.

The next night he got out of bed when he became aware of her
presence.

He looked confused, standing there naked with a growing erection.

"Do you want... Do you want to do it the old-fashioned way?" she
asked.

As an experiment, she lay back on the bed, exposed wide for the
taking. His eyes took on a light then, and he moved unsteadily
into mounting position. He began thrusting motions while his
penis slid and poked against her inner left thigh. She reached
down with deft fingers and pointed him at the right place.

The penetration brightened his grin and led to some fast fucking
motions. He started panting and stopped.

"Maybe you're not quite ready for this?" said Alison, but his
thrusts resumed on his initiative, and 30 seconds later he held
himself deep and groaned, then collapsed on her, panting far more
than usual. Ordinarily he'd have been aware of crushing her and
moved aside, but not any more. She struggled her way out from
under him and sat on the edge of the bed. He curled up on his
side, panting, lost in his own world.

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

Paul's appetite improved, and he began pacing around in his room.
He seemed happy when they took him on brief excursions outside.
Physically, he looked good. He showed no sign of mental
improvement, unfortunately. He gave no indication he understood
what was being said to him, and he didn't maintain eye contact or
look at people's faces except in passing.

Tara realized she hadn't been to see Paul in a while. She came in
holding Stacy on her left hip.

Paul sat up.

"Hi, Paul. How are you feeling?"

He ignored her words. His eyes briefly took in Stacy, then looked
Tara's body up and down. His brow furrowed briefly, then he
approached the two of them, and his hands awkwardly reached out
to take her sides. A hug! Was he going to hug her? But the next
moment she became aware of awkward rhythmic thrusting movements
against her belly. She could feel the bulge of his penis through
his underpants.

Her feelings were complicated. It had been an unrealistic hope
that he would give her a real hug, though she was disappointed.
But here he at least showed some interest in life -- and a
healthy interest it was too!

"Oh! I guess that's natural, but, ummm. Not now..." She stepped
back but he kept his hold on her.

"Not now!" she said more sharply and pulled away. She made a
quick exit with Stacy and he didn't follow.

She reported what had happened. The others who visited got the
same treatment. It seemed that once it occurred to him that women
were things he could mate with, he reacted that way to all of
them.

It became routine. The woman walked in, and even if she was
dressed in baggy unrevealing clothing, he got up and made his
crude copulatory attempts. When they rebuffed him, he seemed
troubled and agitated. As his strength returned, they had to use
increasing force to get away from him.

Heather's visits had been rare, but when she heard this, she said
she was going to keep her distance, thank you very much. Grace
went once, thinking perhaps that at some primal level he would
recognize his mother and not react to her as a potential sexual
partner. But she emerged with moist eyes, as he had given her
exactly the same treatment.

They faced a dilemma. It was hard to care for Paul if he started
trying to screw whoever came to see him. Paul never reacted to
Jacob in a sexual way, so the other man took on more of the
day-to-day care while the others debated what to do.

Alison pointed out that she was still eager for a baby, so if he
could follow through to an actual sex act, that would be fine
with her. Most of the others reacted with raised eyebrows
followed by a shrug, but Heather went into another tirade.
Letting him consummate his animal lust was abusive to him since
he surely was not capable of giving informed consent. But the
real force of her reaction came because Alison was proposing to
just let him rape her... Heather was not pleased.

Alison reported after her first attempt that he had been willing,
had performed well, and seemed contented afterward. Other women
visited right after he had relieved himself in that way and he
made no attempts. So Alison made a habit of seeing him first
thing in the morning so he could satisfy his urges, and then
others could visit.

As his strength improved, they took him on longer walks outside
-- right after he had satisfied himself sexually.

One day Tara visited an hour after Alison had drained him --
without Stacy.

She felt wistful and tender that day, so she sat on the bed next
to him and gave a sideways hug.

After a moment he broke the hug but grabbed her shoulders and
pushed her back on the bed. She spoke to him sharply and
struggled, but by now he was strong and not easily deterred. Soon
he had her pinned and was making rapid thrusting motions --
though both of them were dressed. She considered yelling for
help, but thought better of it. He'd get tired of these fruitless
thrusts after a while. But the minutes went on and he didn't get
tired. He furrowed his brow and grunted with what she took to be
frustration.

Her thoughts changed a bit. The rapist thrusting motions did tug
at her private parts through the cloth, arousing her. He was her
husband. He had few desires and this was one she could help him
satisfy. He didn't know any better. And she was hoping for
another baby...

"Oh, all right!" she said. Her squirming got him to pause
momentarily. She tugged her skirt out of the way, managed to free
his penis by pulling his underpants partway down, held the cloth
of her panty crotch to the side, and aimed him.

As soon as he started penetrating her, his frown turned to smile,
his thrusts grew fast and deep, and within seconds he groaned and
gave a big "Aaaaahhhhhh!" And thus was little Anne conceived.

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

Half an hour after Paul had inseminated Alison, she took him for
a walk outside. He stopped and she saw him peering into the
distance ahead at the figure of Molly, dressed in shorts and a
T-shirt, playing with Peter.

"Let's walk this way," Alison said, turning him. But he wouldn't
take his eyes off Molly, and started walking towards her.

"No, Paul, no, that's not good! Maybe we should get you back
inside..."

He started running.

"Molly, watch out!" yelled Alison, trailing him.

Molly saw him coming and ran away, leaving Peter where he was.

But Paul in his recovered state was faster than Molly, and he
soon tackled her. Alison picked up the crying Peter and turned
away so that he couldn't see.

"No, Paul, no!" said Molly, struggling beneath him.

"Unnnhhh!" vocalized Paul. By now he was able to free his
erection. He made his quick fucking motions against the crotch of
Molly's shorts. Frustrated at his lack of progress, he dug at
Molly's crotch area with his hand.

"Ouch!"

"Maybe just let him do it!" called Alison from a distance.

As Molly told it later, she decided to take Alison's advice after
his second clawing motion at her crotch. When she held her crotch
cloth to the side and aimed his thrusting penis, it entered her
and he gave a sigh of satisfaction. She didn't have much
lubrication and it burned, but it wasn't too bad.

Having come so soon before, it took Paul longer than usual. Molly
reported the satisfaction on his face as he fucked away, and it
still took only a couple minutes before he sighed and spurted. He
at once rolled off.

They decided it was just too dangerous to let Paul take walks.
Later that afternoon they devised brackets for a wooden bar
outside his door that could be used to lock Paul in.

But when Paul realized he couldn't get out, he went crazy,
bashing at the door with his shoulder, shouting and screaming.
Eventually he calmed down, and when Jacob let himself in he found
the man in the fetal position, unresponsive. He left the meal he
had brought and made a quick exit. The next morning they heard
more banging and shouting.

Alison reported he performed his morning copulation with her more
roughly than usual the next day. She made her exit while he was
still panting and locked him in once more, but within minutes he
was raging again at his confinement.

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

After a week of this regime, Paul was bruised and haggard. He
still fucked Alison, but one day when Jacob lifted the bar for
Alison to leave, he started to follow, and she had to shout to
Jacob to quick put the bar back. It was two hours before Paul
nodded off, and Alison by whispered command to Jacob was able to
make her exit.

The young women debated among themselves. When they were all
convinced, they called a community meeting.

Tara addressed the group. "Paul's miserable in there. I say we
let him go free. So far, he's never been a problem as long as he
can have sex with whoever he's focused on. Let's just agree that
we won't resist. He'll give you his load quick, and then he's
done."

Heather said, "I can't believe you're seriously suggesting this.
Here we have come to this island to build a feminist utopia, and
you're suggesting we settle for something way worse than in the
outside world. He can demand sex of anyone, at any time, and if
we resist he'll hurt us physically. And you're just going to take
it? At least in the world we came from, they locked up rapists!"

Molly said, "But there's a big difference. He can't help it -- he
doesn't know any better. Men always could control themselves,
right? And almost always they did?"

"Yes," said Heather wearily. "Though plenty made excuses about
how their urges were just so powerful they couldn't stop
themselves -- which was bullshit. Why can't we just keep him
locked up?"

"Because he's miserable," said Grace.

"But what if he goes for you? His own mother?"

"I... I'm not looking forward to it. But if the alternative is
keeping him locked up, I'm willing to take the risk."

"What if he goes for me?" said Heather. "I just don't do men. I
refuse."

Alison spoke. "You're forgetting something big. You're the one
who made him like he is!" There was a pause in the room as she
had said aloud what everyone knew. "Why should he be miserable
for the rest of his life just so you can make sure he never tries
to mate with you?"

"Mating is not the right word. Mating is done between two willing
animals. I am not willing. And as you know, I had a bad
experience in my past."

Alison said, "You're the one who committed a crime. Assault with
a deadly weapon -- attempted murder. Perhaps we should lock YOU
in a cabin all day."

"That's ridiculous! You all know I didn't mean to..." She went
silent, and for several seconds everyone looked at her. They
obviously weren't going to lock her up, but the point had
indisputable moral force.

"Or you can spend your days up at the cabin on the north point.
He won't go looking for you."

"OK," she said wearily. "If that's what all the rest of you want,
to let him wander around. But I bet he'll start being violent
other ways."

Grace said, "If he does, we'll deal with it then."

"And maybe the north cabin would be a good place for me to move."

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

Paul recovered his previous good disposition once he had his
freedom. He refused to wear any clothes on days when the weather
was warm -- which was the vast majority of days. He still didn't
understand anything that was said to him, but the young women
noticed that he made a point of seeking each of them out for sex.
After he had mated with Alison a couple times, he would refuse
her advances. He was looking for a different woman. Molly stayed
with Heather in the north cabin when she got a yeast infection,
and when she reappeared, Paul made a beeline for her and mated
with her several times.

Grace made some attempt to keep her distance, but couldn't be
vigilant all the time. Paul found her and fucked her with the
special enthusiasm they had come to expect he would show on
encountering a new woman. He had no more recollection of Grace as
his mother than he did of Alison and Kira as his sisters. If it
was an adult female, he wanted to fuck it. But Grace reported
that she really accepted emotionally that he couldn't help
himself. To Alison she confided with a guilty grin that she
enjoyed the physical act that she hadn't had in so many years.

Paul's nakedness gave all of the women one advantage. When they
saw him looking their way with a growing erection, they could
slide their fingers between their legs for some quick
stimulation, getting some extra lubrication so Paul's rough
phallic intrusion wouldn't chafe and maybe hurt. The young women
reported that just seeing Paul at a distance made their genitals
swell a bit.

After a couple months Paul began taking longer and longer walks,
roaming the island systematically as if it was his territory --
which it really was, in an important sense. They tried to
distract him from the north end of the island, but it only worked
temporarily. When he approached the north end, Molly ran ahead to
warn her mother, who escaped on the east side as he approached on
the west. But staying out of his sight was hard work, and when he
had been on the loose for three months, he finally caught up with
her.

She had steeled herself for the possibility, and her report was
that while plenty upsetting, it wasn't as traumatic as she had
feared. In her mental preparations her first strategy was to
frame it as an internal exam by the gynecologist -- clinical and
impersonal. But Paul's grunts and thrusts made it clear it was
sexual and not at all clinical. So she tried to think of it as a
bee sting or a snake bite -- something meted out by instinct by a
wild beast. That was partly true, but she was also aware that
Paul the beast was trying to plant a baby in her -- to monopolize
her reproductive potential for years to come. In that, she
thought with a smile, he was going to be sadly disappointed.

Having found her once, he searched for her even harder and
tracked her down wherever she was. Heather decided life was
easier if she just got with the program. If Paul showed up with a
bulging erection, she would make her vagina available. He would
occupy it with rude enthusiasm, but for rarely more than a
minute. The fluid he left behind was only natural, she tried to
tell herself. She was then free to go on doing whatever she had
been doing.

================================
Epilog

Tara sat on the beach, relaxing and watching 6-year-old Stacy
making a sand castle.

She saw Paul walking down the beach. In the early years she might
have tried to quick run into the trees so Stacy couldn't see, but
they had all given that up.

He walked straight towards her, and she could see his erection
rising. She quickly reached between her legs and began a gentle,
quick motion.

Just as he reached her she pulled down her bikini bottom and lay
back on the towel. "Hi, Paul," she said wearily.

He said nothing, but quickly got into mounting position.

"Unnnhhh!" he grunted as he drove his penis home.

Tara could tell from his early thrusts that he was going to fuck
her for several minutes before he came. He had probably screwed
two of the other women within the hour. If she was in the mood,
she might have started rubbing her clitoris with her hand so
she'd have an orgasm before he finished. But she was aware of
Stacy watching them from five yards away.

"What does Paul do that?" she asked.

"Oh, this is how babies are made, right? You've seen him do that
since before you could remember." Her voice wavered slightly
every couple seconds as Paul's strong thrusts jiggled her whole
body.

"How does it make a baby?"

Tara had answered this question more than once before, but she
realized that children took in these things at different levels
over time.

"Paul's testicles make something called sperm, and when he has
his penis deep inside me like this, the sperm comes out the end
of his penis. Then up inside me it would meet an egg and they'd
combine to make a baby that is part Paul and part me."

"But he does it all the time, and there aren't that many babies."

Tara laughed. "Well, it doesn't always work. He keeps trying it
over and over hoping it will work sometimes."

"Do you mind? He never asks."

"Oh, I usually don't mind. I know it's hard for you to believe,
but it feels kind of good to me. And your daddy means well." She
smiled up at him and stroked his cheek as he pounded away.

This was how sex education had to work in a society where the sex
was done in public. Paul increased his speed. From long
experience, Tara knew his rhythm. "And he's about to shoot the
sperm out soon, any second now.... There!"

"Can you feel it coming out?"

"No, women can't feel it."

Paul's thrusting slowed and stopped, and he slid out of Tara, his
slick and shrinking organ in full view as he sat on the sand
catching his breath.

"Did he start a baby this time?"

"No. Actually, I think he already started one in me a couple
months ago. You're going to have another little sister or
brother."

Paul's best efforts had never worked in Alison, who was
apparently infertile. It had worked with the others, though.
Tara's missed periods suggested she was pregnant with her fourth
child. Molly had had three, and Kira two live births and two
miscarriages and was expecting again any day.

Heather's earlier confidence that Paul's reproductive efforts
inside her were in vain was misplaced. Although she and Grace had
both started the process of menopause, they had apparently not
finished it. Grace had had one baby and Heather had gotten
pregnant and given birth to another pair of twins.

"His penis always gets soft and floppy after he's done."

"Yeah, it gets to rest."

"Why does it get stiff?"

"Well, think about it. He couldn't get it into our bodies if it
wasn't stiff." Right. He couldn't violate and degrade females
without an organ that turned into a weapon. That was the theory.
But now she viewed it as a friendly visitor, brimming with the
possibility of new life.

"Does Jacob make sperm too?"

"Yes."

"How come I never see him putting his penis into anyone?"

"That's just the way he is. Some men don't feel like putting
sperm into women."

"Why?"

"It's just the way they are. No explanation." No need to talk
about Jacob's fervent but vain desire for Paul to deliver sperm
in his butt hole.

"Is Paul going to stick his penis in my vagina?"

"Oh, no, dear! You're much too young for that."

"But he might some day?"

"You don't have to worry about that until you're much older.
Maybe you won't want anyone to put sperm in you. Or maybe you'll
want Peter to do it. Or Zach."

"Ewwww," said Stacy with a frown.

"Like I said, you don't have to worry about it for a long time."

So far, that had been right. Paul had shown no interest in any of
the little boys and girls, and Stacy had just turned six. Tara
felt once more an uneasiness when she thought about her at 10 or
11.

"Peter and Zach are babies. I'd want Paul to put sperm in me.
He's nice."

Tara then realized that her fears about Stacy at the age of 11 or
12 had a different dimension. If all the women you knew spread
their legs for Paul in public whenever he wanted to fuck them,
then you'd think that was part of being a woman. Every girl wants
to be a woman some day.

And what about the boys, who had Paul as their role model? Would
they think they were entitled to fuck any woman whenever they
felt like it? Hopefully Paul's mental limitations would make it
clear that he was a special case. In the next generation they
would go back to monogamous sex, in private, and only with the
consent of both parties. They kept reassuring themselves and
especially Heather that that was how it would go.

Paul got up and walked into the water for a swim. And as Tara
thought about it, she realized she had enjoyed his visit. She
hadn't been asked and she didn't have any choice. She had been
nowhere near an orgasm, and he viewed her as a hunk of female
flesh -- a cum dump. Still, it felt nice to feel his big cock
invade her, and the sensations as it thrust in and out were
pleasing in a sexual way. She liked feeling his compelling
masculine presence, his desire for her, and his vacant grin of
satisfaction. Her body satisfied him, bringing him relief and
pleasure.

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

At first it had been a slow realization. The old Paul was a dimly
emerging spectator to the new Paul's life. Lots of sitting around
in the sun and eating. Lots of walking around the island, looking
for something new. And lots of sex. Mount willing women, thrust,
and ejaculate. The old Paul enjoyed the orgasms too. There was
some fun with babies. The new Paul could sort of relate to babies
in a way he couldn't with any of the adults, since he was on
their level mentally. Mothers closely supervised the new Paul
playing with them.

Memories of old Paul's life came back to him. He now recognized
Grace as his mother and Alison and Kira as his sisters. He had no
idea what their names were, as he had no language ability. He
heard funny patterns of sound coming from all of the women and
even the older babies. He knew it had something to do with
getting ideas across, but it made no sense to him any more.

But he needed no words to remember his shame as a boy at being a
boy, of how inferior he felt. He remembered now his desire as it
emerged at puberty. It was a desire to fuck the girls, and he
remembered the guilt that was so strong he'd convinced himself he
had no interest in fucking girls at all. So every time the new
Paul fucked one of the women and scored, he rooted him on.
Payback, and affirmation of Paul's fundamental nature as a
creature who fucked females. It made that childhood guilt and
repression a little less -- but it never made it go away.

As time went by, old Paul realized he could take control
sometimes. When new Paul didn't feel like doing anything in
particular, old Paul could walk their shared body down to the
beach to look at waves, and fish, and bugs in the sand. He could
look at the moon and realize that it went around the earth, the
earth was round, and the two of them went around the sun. A long
time ago some men had landed on the moon and walked around there.
He really knew quite a bit.

He also knew that all of these little babies were his children.
He could understand what they wanted and were trying to do as
they got to be toddlers, while the new Paul really couldn't.

Once he had been watching Tara, remembering the time when they
were married. Just then Tara had smiled at him, and he had smiled
back. She suddenly got very excited and made lots of those
sounds, bringing other women to see if he would smile at them
too. He still didn't understand what they were getting at and
decided it wasn't worth it. Better not to smile. He smiled at the
children sometimes and they smiled back -- his children. That was
rewarding, and that was all there was to it.

New Paul's desire to fuck the two old women wasn't so strong
anyway, and old Paul exerted his will to stop that entirely. One
of them was his mother, and the other one really, really didn't
like to get fucked. He could sense it in a way that new Paul
couldn't. Her face went blank and scared.

Paul had mounted Tara, about to insert his penis. Both Pauls were
anticipating the coming pleasure a lot. Tara smiled at him. New
Paul was concentrated on penetrating Tara but had no opinion what
his face did, so without thinking the old Paul used it to make
eye contact and a little smile. Tara reacted with a frown and
started wriggling. Old Paul regretted his unintended smile and
stopped at once. But he understood that it had somehow upset Tara
and she wanted him to stop and not penetrate her right then, and
that he really ought to stop because she wanted him to. But new
Paul didn't know and most of all didn't care. New Paul wanted to
enter and thrust. To thrust and thrust and thrust amid growing
pleasure until he spurted his goo inside of Tara's vagina. Old
Paul decided to just be quiet and go with the flow of the new
Paul's desire. It was better this way. He'd just have to remember
to smile less.

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