Chapter 1

The swarm... the CAP test... volunteering for the Confederacy Defense Force. Dear gods, it all seemed to be such a rush. I thought long and hard about it all, delaying taking the test. I figured I'd score well. I suspected I'd get over a 6.5, but after seeing what happened to my best friend after he scored a 6.7, and the way women followed him around, it was madness. At least, that's the way it seemed. I hope he made out well when they finally extracted him.

Perhaps I should introduce myself. My name is Ryan, my last name irrelevant. I'd like to say that I've gone through a lot, but that would be egotistical, and I'm sure there are plenty who could easily outdo me there. I was born in the US, but after living in so many different states and cities, I don't claim to be 'from' any particular state. Michigan, California, Arizona, Maine... they all tend to blend together after a while. No, I didn't have military parents.

I did okay in high school. I, like so many others, was diagnosed with ADHD... I think it was a fad, in some respects. Although I had issues with focusing and forcing myself to do things I didn't want to, I found that things that I either enjoyed or felt that I needed to do were not difficult. I got into programming on my calculator as a freshman, though I didn't know the significance of it at the time.

Two years later, though, when I started taking programming classes, I found one of my greatest gifts. While I never was one to socialize overly much, when I discovered the internet, and what I could do with computers, my life had meaning.

Unlike some people, I didn't use hacking as a means of exploiting others, or a source of ill gotten gains. As crazy as it sounds, I never downloaded a song unless the artist came out and said, "Here, take it!"

I used hacking as a challenge to learn, and programming as a challenge to create. I quickly found that the anti-viruses you could buy were junk, as they always skipped crap-ware (my all inclusive term for viruses, malware, data miners, spyware, etc.) that their company made. So, I made my own anti-crap-ware program. Looking back, I really should have sold it or some of the other programs that I made, but most of them had very specific use, and I gave them away to family and the few friends that I had.

While university life helped my social skills immensely, the classes all seemed like a huge drag and repeat of information I'd learned in high school. Most of the classes I had to take had no relation to computer science, although I enjoyed learning German and several new computer languages. In the end, though, I dropped out after three semesters.

After college I did various jobs, from sales in call centers (I wasn't proud of that) to driving trucks for a year to working a few small government jobs. I took the seasonal IRS positions they offered twice. I realize my job selection sounds rather odd, but they kept my mind occupied while not at home playing video games. For a while, I only programmed and hacked occasionally.

When I found out about the Sa'arm, and everything that was going to happen, I finally decided to use my inherent gifts.

The AIs that the Confederation relied on were very touchy, and beyond any programming that humans had ever managed. Still, artificial intelligence is no match for natural stupidity, as they say. I must have switched IPs and masks dozens of times, even changed locations and swapped a number of computers while making small inquiries. It was quickly very apparent, from what I could glean before I always inevitably got locked out, that there was a LOT the Confederacy, who needed us so much, did not want to share. They feared us.

In spite of all my little bits of rule breaking and so on, I never had malign intentions. Extractions had been going on for months before I finally decided to take the damned test. Okay, maybe not damned, as it was both effective and challenging. Now, the trick was, it was designed to keep sociopaths, criminals, and people of foul intent from scoring well. The thing they didn't seem to worry about, though, was people intentionally scoring lower than they should. I rehearsed for a full week before I took it, but...

When I saw the score of 6.4, I was relieved. I had hoped for 6.2-6.3, but none the less I'd managed to slip just beneath the magic 6.5 that the Confederacy looked for. I could have easily done better, but I did not want to be the person fawned over, the person whom had to make the life and death decisions when extraction time came. I botched a fair number of questions in areas that I didn't really care about, while I'm certain I did very well in others.

Okay, so I cheated. I decided I wouldn't attempt to find a pattern or prediction table for extractions, but I did make a point of going out far more often. Gaming on wireless networks on my best laptop became a hobby. After almost two years of extractions, I started to get somewhat nervous. While I'd heard of and even seen a few restaurants isolated with interdiction fields, I was surprised when the barriers dropped down around a crowded intersection in my home city. People were expecting a green walk signal, not a gray wall.

Gods, I thought, it's finally happening around me. The first thing to cross my mind was elation, followed quickly by dread. What if I missed this chance? I stood aside as the marines called out the names of four individuals. There were three men and one woman. I took several deep breaths and fingered my ID badge in my pocket. My laptop was in my backpack, but that was about it. I had my necklace, my pendant given to me by a college friend, and a few dollars that would hopefully soon be meaningless. The guys who'd been selected immediately started looking over the women, who were all too eager to line up and present themselves, for the most part.

Had my own survival not been on the line at that time, I would have taken the time to admire the show. Most of the women immediately stripped down to at least their underwear, while several knew what was going on and got naked as if their clothes were on fire. There was a very nice assortment of breasts and even a few muffs on display, the guys taking in the sights with glee. One girl turned around and bent over, giving them a very good look at her wet nether region. "C'mon, baby!" she whined. "Fuck me! You'll know you want me!" At least a couple of the men were asking to see IDs, not just going off the momentary (editable) physical appearances. One girl went straight for one selectee's fly, yanking it down and fishing for his already swelling cock before sucking like her life depended on it. It did, ironically.

Before even attempting to select concubines, one of the male volunteers started talking to the female, the woman I'd need to somehow garner the attention of. He was talking to her quietly, such that I couldn't make out exactly what was being said.

I leaned against the stop light in the middle of the road, an odd feeling, and closed my eyes. No. Open your eyes, I thought. Have to play to win. I watched the female volunteer, who seemed almost dazed and confused. I finally pushed myself toward her, slipping carefully around a few good looking guys who were in the midst of taking their shirts off, likely to show off six packs.

Now, at an inch under six foot and 10 pounds under 200, I wasn't all that impressive. I hadn't shaved in a week, and my hair was tied behind me but otherwise clean. I had on a Pink Floyd T-shirt, of all things, and a pair of loose but comfortable jeans. I had exceptionally thick glasses, but they didn't look that bad (I thought) since they only sported half rims. I felt like I was struggling for attention, a mouse trying to get the attention of a cat confronted by birds on the ground.

"Um, Ma'am," I called out, "I know I may not look very impressive, but I'll put forth-"

"ID," she snapped, evidently irritated by the attention of the men around her. A marine waved a stinger around, and most of the men backed off. A few persistent ones finally gave way when one of them dropped under the weapon's influence. I fumbled only for a moment before handing it to her. She scanned it and looked the hand held device over once before handing it back, then went along as if she hadn't even checked it.

I sighed, miserable, feeling defeat wash over me. Maybe she was on the shallow side. I didn't know. I slunk back, resting with my back against the same traffic light. I'd failed. I'd fucked up big time, and was likely to be stuck. I heard some strange sound, which I later found out was the transporter being fired up. The female volunteer, who didn't seem nearly as interested in sex as the men, surprised me when she put a hand on my shoulder. "Ryan, I'm taking you, provided you're willing." Too stunned to say anything, I nodded and climbed to my feet, with her help. She pointed me toward the transportation pad, and I shambled over to it. I'd made it.

On the ship wasn't quite like anything I had actually seen. I'd caught glimpses from things I'd hacked, but it hadn't prepared me adequately. "Concubines line up here," one of the extraction marines commanded, and half numb, but growing far more awake, I made my way to stand. As far as I could tell, all the female concubines were nude. It seemed like I was the only male drone that was selected.

It wasn't long before my sponsor, Jennifer as her name turned out to be, approached me, a slight smile on her face. "You've got a few very good scores... I'm willing to bet you were very close to being at 6.5." I could do little else but nod in response. "I hope you can pass on your better qualities to your children, in the next few years," she said with a wink, grabbing at my crotch. I was already slightly aroused by the nude (and often very attractive) female figures around, but that had me rock hard.

We were lead off to our pods for briefings by the AIs. I managed to discreetly slip my pack away, laptop safe inside. I was quite lucky that it didn't draw attention, probably because of how small both the laptop and the backpack were.

Jennifer had been allowed three more for her harem, and she'd chosen a pair of bi-sexual girls. She explained briefly that she was waiting to select her 4th concubine. It dawned on me just how lucky I was. I wasn't in charge, I was basically property at that time, but I didn't have to contest with any other guys. It shouldn't have been surprising that a girl with a CAP score of 7.1 had made intelligent choices.

After watching a series of projected videos that reminded me of flight instructions, the AI announced, "That concludes the instructions for this time." There wasn't even a click as the voice stopped.

Okay, now that I finally had time to think (I thought), I looked to the three women and smiled. It wasn't the cocky smile that you might have thrown, so much as a 'Well, this could be a lot worse...' smile. Luckily, Jennifer broke the silence first.

"Alright, my pets, I've told you my name. Vanessa," she said, nodding toward a Hispanic girl, "Kim," she said, indicating a girl dressed in the plain gray clothes the ship supplied her after she 'lost' everything else on the ground, "and Ryan. You'll need to get to know each other. I picked Ryan because he has a few very impressive sub scores, even though he's a moron in the gardening, social, and engineering departments." This elicited a few giggles. Like I said, I had to botch a few things to keep my score low enough. "He'll be our stud after you," she said, indicating Vanessa and Kim "have both had a child from Rob, one of the other volunteers I made a deal with. Don't feel bad," Jennifer said as she leaned back. "Your life won't be that bad."

"I suppose not," I admitted. Gods, I was starting to have doubts about my plans. Although the physical ramifications of it weren't so bad, I wanted more out of life than to be a stud when diversity was called for.

"Now," Jennifer continued, "I encourage you girls to be very friendly toward Ryan... he'll make a good father." That brought heat to my cheeks.

Finally, I took the time to really look over my slave-mates. Vanessa was a few inches shorter than me, and a bit heavy set, even more than I was, but she had a calm look about her. Her breasts must have been large C's, and she had a slight hourglass figure in spite of her small bit of fat. She had short dark brown hair, and eyes that (to me) said 'good mom'.

From what I later gathered, Vanessa had immigrated to the US legally, and struggled to make a living with minimum wage jobs ever since. She had been married, but she miscarried when her husband beat her senseless. Her husband was a member of some Mexican gang, and used her to get into the US. She was quite fortunate to be extracted, and had a 5.2 CAP score. Her maternal sub score was very high.

Kim was the kind of girl most guys under the age of twenty five (right where I was at) would love to fuck. I later found out she was only seventeen. She was a few inches over five feet, and looked like she couldn't be more than a hundred twenty pounds. None the less, she had nice, gentle curves, and perky B-cup breasts with nipples that pointed up. She had a nice rounded ass and a general look on her face that said 'slut'. She was very cute, in the fuckable way.

Kim had grown up in a middle class family, and evidently quickly found that she could get what she wanted with sex. Not only could she use it for manipulative purposes, but she loved it. It wasn't surprising her CAP sub score for sex drive was probably almost a 10. She had been turned down by the male sponsors as they thought she'd be too whiny, but Jennifer made some deal with her, the details of which I was not privy to. Her cap score was a bare 4.1.

Jennifer looked like she liked to stay in good shape. She had a gorgeous body for being thirty some odd years old, her features showing a hodge podge of heritage I found enticing, but might have been less appealing to others. She was a few inches taller than me, with solid C-cup breasts that only sagged a little (which I imagined she'd have corrected soon enough). She had, none the less, a feminine figure, and I couldn't complain about my position. I'd be having more sex than I'd had in most years of my life, it looked like.

Jennifer never spoke about her past.

Jennifer moved back to flop unceremoniously on the bed, which looked like it was big enough for all of us, with a little squeezing. "Alright, Ryan, let's see the goods," she said, leaning forward in her relaxed laying posture.

I couldn't believe what I was doing. I nodded and stood up slowly, unzipping my jeans and sliding them down, then taking off my shirt. "C'mon, all of it!" Jennifer chirped. I winced at the comment, and slipped down my boxers. I'd been limp a few moments before, but my member was already starting to swell, albeit a bit slowly. I'd never shaved down below, so there was a small bush of pubic hair around my shaft, and a light fur dusting on my balls. Not a pretty sight, though I wasn't one to admire a cock, even my own. I was cut, though, and proud of that.

"Get him hard, Kim," Jennifer commanded, still sitting back and watching. Kim was eager to obey such a commanded, and slipped out of her top as she moved into position in front of me, licking her lips before swirling her tongue over my shaft, sending a shiver down my spine. She reached up to lightly fondle my balls, and then took my cock into her mouth. It was plain that she had experience.

Now, I'm not normally one for blow jobs, but having her take my entire cock - even as it hit its full size - into her mouth and throat was more of a blow job than I'd ever had. I'd never been deep-throated before that time; but I couldn't help but moan. The funny thing is, I normally have to make myself make noises during sex, but she brought it out of me without any effort. She still swirled her tongue over my shaft, which was seven inches long and two inches thick. My eyes rolled into the back of my skull, and I had to reach back for a chair to keep myself from falling over.

Kim started bobbing her head back and forth on me, but Jennifer called for her to stop. "Alright, my turn." Kim reluctantly let me slip from her mouth before moving away and unceremoniously flopping down on one of the chairs. While I had been distracted, Jennifer had stripped, and was now rubbing her clit slowly as she watched me, occasionally dipping a finger or two into her depths. Her spread legs faced me, showing off her neatly trimmed bit of pubic hair.

I was almost on auto pilot as I stumbled toward her, but kept my wits about me as I crawled up on the bed. Nervous would have been a bit of an understatement, if used to describe how I felt at that moment. I'd just met the woman a couple hours ago, and now she was taking me for a test drive. "Do you want me on top, or..?" I asked, letting the last word drag out a bit, hoping for a quick response.

She smirked up at me, looking quite comfortable as she lay, and nodded, raising her hips to me in a tantalizing manner. "Yes, this time," she instructed me. I nodded and moved up carefully, leaning forward as I crawled over her body, careful not to step on her slightly larger frame. I kissed her neck gently, while I used one hand to grope over her ample breasts, feeling them up and getting a sense of her body. "C'mon, fuck me..." she said, her tone soft but demanding.

I took a deep breath and lined my hips up with hers, letting my still rock-hard meat rub over her slit. I let the tip find her hole, and then guided it into her. I would have done it slow, but she wrapped her legs around my waist and pulled me into her, rather insistently. Okay, fine, I got the message. I groaned as the sensations washed over me, feeling myself deep in her hot, wet haven. Sure, sex was sex (to some), but the situation made it an entirely different sensation. I pulled back, as if to escape, but slammed my hips into her, hilting inside her. I pulled back and thrust again, then a third time, soon moving at brisk pace, my heart pounding in my chest even as I tried to keep my breathing slow, to make it last longer.

Jennifer moaned beneath me, throwing her arms around the back of my neck and rocking her body in a quick matching pace along with my thrusts, obviously thoroughly enjoying herself. Her breasts rubbed against my chest with the motions, her nipples like a pair of pebbles mounted on the mounds. "Oh, god, yes!" she gasped between breaths.

It was all too much for me, especially after being blown by a professional like Kim. I blew my load inside her, probably somewhere between two and three minutes in, my face turning bright red. Jennifer could tell, and she slowed the motion of her body a bit. "Done already..?" she said softly; though she wasn't teasing me, thank the gods.

"No," I said through grit teeth. I kept moving my hips, grinding against her, keeping myself inside her for a few long moments before rocking back and forth lightly, working to get myself hard again. It took less than a minute, but soon I was back to full size and thrusting in and out of her with abandon, keeping myself up with a hand on either side of her. I've always worked to compensate for my shortcomings.

Soon, though, I had her fully into the throes of pleasure, her body wrapped around mine and moving in tune, her inner walls pulsating around my shaft, begging me for more even as bits of cum from the first orgasm slipped down the crack of her ass. I had to set my mind adrift somewhat, trying to think about what I was going to do when I had some time alone, to keep myself from cuming again too soon. I was jerked back to the present, though, when Jennifer came, her cunny clamping down on me like a wet velvet vice. I gasped as I came a second time, filling her completely to compliment her own orgasm.

I collapsed atop her, all conscious thoughts leaving me, for that time.