Hop... no, Hope To It

For many of us men who don't make the cut for Confederacy service-- set at a minimum CAP score of 6.5-- there is very little hope to escape the Earth before the Sa'arm arrive.

Oh, sure, all of the still existing nations of the earth are on a footing to prepare for invasion by arranging for every one to have weapons and ammunition ready to be delivered on the eve of invasion. A lot of bunkers are being dug in, too, which is one major difference between us and the previous Confederacy worlds that had the Sa'arm... or Swarm, a name that spread across the globe in any English-speaking nation, which we hoped would make it easier to protect fighters.

Given that the evacuees being collected these days make up the "home front" so that there will be humans available to push the "swarm" back should Earth fall, no living human is a non-combatant.

Given the expected challenges to the "usual" food supply chain, the food synthesizers the other species of the Confederacy used to avoid consuming "real" meati, quickly acquired military priority. This also, I realized, once I thought about it later, kept restaurants afloat to ensure a public place for the Confederacy to stage their extractions of volunteers.

Me?

At the start of this story I was 51 years of age and married to a woman whose church objected to CAP testing and rating as a "mark of the beast"... and all aliens as merely demons in disguise. That they-- and a lot of other fundamentalist sects, at least the ones that survived-- didn't believe in this whole situation as "real" seemed to be flying in the face of any measure of common sense. We'd seen jumps in technology that couldn't be explained away otherwise, for instance. I, at least, had a job that made this kind of thing clear to me.

But, then, I was married to a woman who used to be exceptionally bright, but, once married, seemed to want to be dull and lifeless. Our children were grown and even had a couple of grand-children... but I stayed with her out of inertia. I had no idea any one else would ever want me even as much-- or, given hindsight, as little-- as my wife did.

So, yeah, I got my CAP score without my wife's knowledge. I already knew, from her and the preacher, that approval was not possible, either, and, likely, forgiveness was going to be an uphill climb, at best.

And, yes, I recognized the irony in how unforgiving a "Christian" church can be.

In all, I put up with a lot from my wife, all to keep the peace at home, but there are limits. So I got a nice CAP score of 6.4, just a tenth of a point short of being able to volunteer for the Confederacy, which pretty much doomed me to the rear guard, but, even worse, stuck with a woman who had become so narrow-minded that she didn't think God had meant to give her a brain, much less genitalia.

I wondered if my time in the Navy and then working at the local nuclear power plant had helped or hindered my score.

Everything changed late one Sunday morning when the whole congregation (all thirty seven of us) went to breakfast after church service at a big buffet restaurant with the minister and his wife. Seeing the bright sunshine outside fade to gray as we were sealed in from the rest of the world got a lot of people agitated.

The team of four soldiers handling the extraction I was very suddenly an intimate witness to announced the nine selectees to be evacuated. Only one of those mentioned were at, or near, our group of tables. Since four of the nine were women, I had some slim hope at having a shot of getting away from earth and, more importantly, slipping my wife's leash.

Of course, if I were to campaign to be sponsored by a selectee and didn't get picked, I'd have to face the consequences of exposing that I had a CAP score against the wishes of the minister, my wife and "fellow"-- or, perhaps, fallow-- parishioners.

When two of the soldiers came to our set of tables and told us to get in line, our minister-- an arrogant man who I'd never really taken a liking to, perhaps because my wife listened to his line of bullshit so avidly-- stood up and said his flock was pure of Satan's mark, not having any CAP scores... and one soldier waved a little device like a PDA and pointed to five people-- three women and two men, including myself-- saying that we had our ID cards and to please step away from the rest of "our" party. It looked like Mary's effort to say that she wasn't the Mary Smith that had been announced was for naught.

Once we peeled ourselves away-- well, it wasn't all that hard, we five got rejected-- I discovered that I wouldn't have to worry if I didn't get picked.

All of the members of the church group, save us five, were stunned right there in front of us.

I stood staring in shock when the leader of the team walked over to us and told us "The cost of non-compliance with the mandatory testing directives were recently escalated and we have had a lot of problems from the overly religious, so it is best to get them out of the way, right away. We've lost team members when some idiot has pulled a gun, you know, so we can't leave 'em behind our back. People need to be tested for the good of the human race-- and we'll make an example out of this group. We're glad you five are exceptions to this kind of stupidity." He then changed gears and looked at Mary, who I'd always gotten along with fairly well, saying "You need to get over with the other selectees and start picking the people you want to take with you, all right?"

She nodded and walked away from us. He then addressed the rest of us, saying, "You want to get in line, over there."

Well, we got.

It was funny, really-- the people I got along with the best from the church were all with me. We compared our scores and found that we were all in the same range between 6 and 6.4.

James had a straight 6. Tami had a 6.4, like me, and Paula was a 6.1.

I figured that I had no more future than James did and we talked the women into doing their best to get off-world.

Jim and I watched the extraction team and did our best to avoid drawing attention. I was not completely successful at this effort, a point proven to me when one of the female selectees, a real amazon, walked up to us, and demanded to see our IDs. I shrugged and presented mine. She put my card into something that helped her read it and I watched her eyes scan. I was sure that she'd drop me like a rock... and then shocked me.

"Pete," she ordered, "stand up."

So I stood up, awaiting her next request... or order.

"I'm Susan. Let me get onto the table... I want to feel you lick me where it counts."

Sure, I could do that... and she didn't have any underwear on under her long skirt, which I pulled up to expose her pussy.

Despite my time in the Navy I had still been a virgin when I met my wife. Despite the unreality of the porn I've quietly seen on the internet, I was surprised to find that a woman can really act like she enjoys cunnilingus. Susan's moans and encouragement felt pretty good reaching my ears and gave me encouragement. I also got confirmation that I had finally brought a woman to orgasm with my tongue.

Susan thanked me, stood up again, and told me to strip. I did so.

Realize that the smell of her juices on my face ensured that my hard-on did not soften. Having been almost a year since the last time my wife deigned to have any kind of sex with me, it would have been hard not to be hard.

Once I exposed my key shortcoming in life-- a five inch dick-- I blushed. "See," I said to Susan, "I am not likely to satisfy you."

She smiled at me. "I can have it enlarged, you know. And you did well enough with your tongue."

I nodded. "Thank you. It was funny that I actually got it right for a change. I don't think I was ever very good at it."

All of a sudden I was wrapped up in her arms. "You're going with me, Pete. Over there, see that woman? Her name is Patty. Go over there and show her what you can do with your tongue, all right? And, while I'm working on finding four more to go with me, I want you to fuck her."

I saw where she was pointing. Patty was a small woman with small breasts but nice hips who was standing, naked, looking around nervously.

"Are you sure she will want to? With me?"

Susan smiled. "I knew you wouldn't be unwilling... but she damn well better be willing to fuck, too, or I'm making one hell of a mistake on her."

I sighed. "All right, I'll try, OK?"

Susan's laugh was a short bark. "If you don't manage to fuck her-- and come in her-- she stays here. My orders, you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am!" I said, and, despite being naked, reverted to an ancient reflex from my time in the Navy, and saluted her. Susan was amused by this and smiled at me and slapped my butt to get me in motion, which caught Patty's attention.

Patty first looked up at me as I approached, then down at what I was walking behind. She didn't laugh, which helped my composure, but her eyes never left my hard-on, either. If anything, it got harder under her gaze.

She looked scared but attentive when I finally reached her, dropped to my knees, and kissed her hairless pudenda. When my kisses worked downward and my tongue entered her slit I got a surprise.

Patty squeaked and shivered as my tongue caressed her slowly growing clitoris, suddenly finding myself with a golf ball between my lips. When my tongue touched it some more I got another squeak and felt her body shake... and I soon had to lower her to the floor.

Following Susan's orders... well, it would have been a challenge not to... I slammed into Patty and felt her wet walls pulsate as she continued to feel aftershocks of coming on my tongue. We fit together very well, it seemed.

Patty shook and shivered as I slammed her, seeming to never come down from her orgasm, well, at least until a minute or so after I sprayed down her insides.

We finally kissed and I peeled myself off from on top of her just as a black woman walked up to me and told me to go down on her, too. So I did as bid, soon being told to turn over and lay on the floor so she could get on top of me. Patty dove in to work on my dick for some reason as I did my best to lick the new woman-- Angela-- into shape. I had to admit that she didn't start out tasting as good as Susan or Patty, suspecting that she'd been sweating for a while, but, at least, Angela was not hard to please.

Angela got up off of my face when she'd recovered from the orgasm I'd given her and stood there, staring, her eyes on my short member as it stood at attention from Patty's direct efforts and Angela's noises of approval.

Men are sensitive about the size of their dick. Women, I am told, are sensitive about the size of their breasts, though I haven't really understood why. Angela, however, pissed me off by laughing as she touched my dick. It shrank instantly which pissed off Patty given the work she'd put into raising the dead.

"You know, Angela," I heard our sponsor's voice, "It's not wise to piss me off like this. I can make him bigger, you know, but I can also make you a whole lot smaller, there, too... to the point where he would be uncomfortable for you to accomodate. Pete, this is Mark, who will be with us to spell you. Angela, get on all fours... and, Mark, fuck her up her ass for pissing me off. You can stroke into her pussy to get yourself wet... and then fuck her ass. And I don't want her enjoying it too much since she's not been polite."

Well, Mark might have been a little bit longer than I was, but I had an advantage in diameter. It wasn't much of a difference, of course, we were both at the under-endowed end of the spectrum.

Susan went off again while I cuddled Patty as we watched Angela whine about her asshole. Mark didn't seem to be all that pleased with this assignment, either.

When Susan returned she had a pair of high-school girls who must have been freshmen. We found out they were only fourteen. They were also very naked and showing that one's body had developed well while the other was thin as a rail.

Both of them were scared, especially watching Mark pumping in to Angela. Susan patted Mark's shoulder and told him he could stop, especially since he wasn't really enjoying it given the friction of not having enough lubrication.

I learned that Mark was a 3.2 and not especially bright. He had a better body than I did, though, being only in his 20s.

Patty had a good score-- a 6.0-- while Angela had a 4.3. Tami, the early bloomer, had a 3.8, while nerdy Jacqui came out with a 5.5.

And, I'll admit, I found both Patty and Jacqui far more pleasing to my eye than either Angela or Tami.

Transport is a non-event; our human senses cannot operate on a timescale that would render it perceivable. The ship, though, was great.

The medscan discovered that my prostatic enlargement had a small set of cancerous cells mixed in... which got cured. My eyes seemed to get better and was warned that there'd be a period of a day or so that my glasses would be useless as I lost my near-sightedness.

My dick size, however, didn't change, and the damned shifts those of us who were transported without clothing got issued were unisex... and mine usually hung on top of my hard-on, which I seemed to constantly get.

Susan test-drove me that first night and I slept with her, cuddled by her, being physically smaller than she was. I held her arms around me and luxuriated in the feel of being wanted. It was funny, though-- I felt like Susan was a perfect woman. I loved her and would do anything she wanted me to.

Three days later I finally recognized some of the extra changes that were made to me by my sponsor.

No, my dick didn't get bigger. Instead, with my body's apparent age pushed back to the mid-teens, I could fuck a lot more times in one day before getting tired. Mark didn't regress at all, staying in his 20s. His dick didn't have any changes made, either. He looked older than me even though I was old enough to be his father.

Angela, I discovered, had been edited by Susan as she'd threatened. Despite my short dick, I would find myself striking her cervix... and Mark, being half an inch longer than I, slapped her cervix even harder. Her penance, Susan told me, would end when we reached our new home world.

That I preferred Jacqui and Patty over Angela or Tami did annoy Susan... but I think she understood. I may not have had a lot of enthusiasm but I was smart enough to follow her orders as best I could. Mark, meanwhile, was a bit more obvious in preferring the women with larger breasts.

Patty's body was, like my own, also regressed. She retained her wide hips and her breasts grew only slightly but she got nicely suckable nipples. Jacqui's hips widened to make it easier for her to carry a baby even though her breasts didn't grow much at all until later, when maternity forced the issue.

Angela's skin was clearer than it had been before and she had also lost a number of years... but not enough for me to avoid flashbacks to her laughter. Tami reminded me of the girls who'd rejected me over and over when I was in high school, myself, thirty five years before.

Susan tried new things sexually with Mark and I, and, when she "pulled a train" with me and Mark, it was a lot of fun to hear her sounds of enjoyment. Having a teen-age body gave me quite an edge on Mark when it came to re-charging, allowing me to continue after he was completely fucked out.

Our mistress-- and such she was-- arranged for Angela to try double penetration in order to decide whether she wanted to try it too. Mark was again in Angela's back door while I got her vagina, with her body hanging over me. It was a very different experience for all three of us and I felt suddenly closer to Angela than I had previously been willing to.

The next day Susan tried it, herself. I got the front door again, Mark the back. He didn't seem displeased with his position and there was no doubt that the music of Susan's pleasure, once we got everything worked out, did wonders for all of us.

Usually, when Mark or I wasn't sleeping with Susan for the night, we'd sleep with the women we preferred. It wasn't always sexual, of course, but the snuggling and cuddling, for me, at least, went a long way to soothing my own fears.

If anything, it was the three of us-- me, Jacqui and Patty-- that did well on studying the orientation material. Our new home wasn't as raw a wilderness as we expected. It also did not hurt that, with Susan's approval, I could work at something I was likely to be good at in the ship-building plant.

Mark and I got along well enough-- we didn't fight over any of the women, for instance, as I saw others on the ship do. We each maintained our "favorites", as allowed, and did as Susan bid. Obedience seemed to come naturally.

One of my nights towards the end of our voyage had me in Susan's bed with Patty and Jacqui, who did their best to keep me going for Susan... and, when Patty was working to bring me back up, Jacqui was working on Susan and vice versa.

I found out that Mark had to be talked into accepting this kind of sexual activity as "acceptable". He could handle sharing a woman between the two of us... but he started out pretty squeamish when he saw female bisexuality. I got the impression that Tami didn't have a problem servicing Susan but Angela had to be coaxed into it, too.

All four of the concubines were pregnant by the time we were to debark at our destination. I had a passing thought that the trip might've been faster but the powers-that-be wanted to ensure fertility while we were all easily accessed.