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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Adult · #1158679
Morals come and go. But Continuity is permanent.
It is undeniable that beliefs move people.

“So said my philosophy professor.” I mentioned. Everyone nodded in agreement.

I took a sip from my cocktail, looking at everyone with a look that basically said, “Well?”

Andrew heeded.

“I think I agree. But what can change people’s beliefs but they themselves?”

Let me provide some context for his answer.

It was on a chilly (windy, after a storm) night on May, 2092 that I heard the news announced. I – like everyone else- was expecting it. The program had been legislated. People will be drafted. Everyone hated it, but everyone also understood that without it, nobody will survive anymore.

You see, a tipping point had been reached, and the situation has now spiraled out of control. The human race was declining to extinction. Numbers were swindling. It was expected that we would number around 10 billion people at around this time. Instead we are less than 2 billion in number. Most of the population is concentrated in Asia. Europe is practically a ghost continent. America is sparsely populated. Silence in the towns and cities in these two continents is the norm, as I can testify. Very little cars travel the road. It is silent. Not peacefully so, but woefully so.

What caused this? No, not a war (though there were a few). Neither a plague, a famine nor some kind of catastrophic event (though there were many) was to blame.

Everyone, everywhere, agreed it was because of one thing.

Ideology. Or to be more precise, birth control. The ideology of the population- youths, adults, and children was that of pleasure without consequence. Birth control had been used and freely dispensed. People made love, but with no children of consequence. Absolutely none.

And so the population steadily, slowly, declined. People were encouraged to have children. But only the few married couples or partners out there heeded. The rest were busy with their lives of gratification, without worry of remorse.

This began early in the millennium. As religious beliefs were swept away, liberal ones took its place. And the liberal ones tolerated, accepted, no, condoned society’s behavior. Everyone was to do what they liked. And do what they liked they did.

And so, roughly 10 years ago, the tipping point, as I have said, had been reached. Civilization was now plummeting down the hill to extinction at breakneck pace. There were now more senior people than adults, more adults than youths, more youths than children. In other words, there were not enough people to replenish the human race. And there were not enough who wanted to do so, despite our government’s insistence.

Human nature as always, wanted delight with no strings attached. Got it we did, at a price far greater than any of us were willing to pay. But pay we must.

Fast forward to the present.

I was 19 when I found that I had been drafted. I was nervous, scared, afraid and secretly, delighted. I told no one. This was an unenviable job. And yet it was enviable.

I was called, rather coldly, a breeder. Part of the Continuity program. Its ideology is known as the Continuity Imperative, as called by the philosophers. The human race must survive, at all costs. The Continuity Imperative, overrides all other man made morals and code of ethics. "Freedom" is impotent when it clashes with the imperative. Somehow, it is being spoken of as something holy, sacrosanct. Yet the Imperative, as every smart person knew, was the ultimate artificially constructed ethic, without a foundation. But it was omnipotent.

My job, as you would’ve guessed it, was to father children. I am a stud. And I’m proud of it, as everyone else whose job was to make love with women were.

Reactions to the program? Many. Some were fatalistic (optimistic, if you prefer to call it). Acceptance or else extinction. There is no other way. Of course, the majority (specifically women) protested, vehemently. Their protests went to nothing but air. It is inevitable.

Other solutions were initially proposed. Cloning…nope, still a genetic dream, a hit and miss game. IVF? Too expensive to be sustained long term and in huge scale. Our fragile economy couldn’t afford it. So the wonderful politicians hit upon the (equally wonderful) idea of surrogate fathers.

Of course, such a program was to scare people into having babies. Childless couples quickly set to work on copulating, the husband fearing that his wife may be called to be impregnated by someone else. Still, some of them ended up being called to us. I remember one husband asking me to be gentle to his wife. I always am.

So the rest…juvenile delinquents, criminals and activists who protested this infringement of freedom to not have children were left up to us. We relished the thought.

I sat in my cubicle, naked, as expected. The system was one of privacy and minimal invasiveness (ironic, isn’t it?), and so, the women to be impregnated by me was hidden by a barrier. She slid half of her body through an opening. Just nice enough for me.

My first one wasn’t the best. She was screaming and swearing. Probably someone from the women’s prison. Thankfully, sedation did its job and with the security of restraints, I proceeded to do my job. I enjoyed it, to say the least. Let’s just hope my efforts prove fruitful, pardon the pun.

Around one or two woman a day came to me, and some of them were violent (but then sedated). Some were quiet. Some talked to me. Some talked with me. Some were nice. I could only guess who they were, how they looked like as I slid my penis in and out of their vaginas. But their moans, and groans, their exclamations and sighs told me one thing- they enjoyed it. And I’m glad they did.

Everyone was told to keep their occupation a secret. I covered mine with another job- writing for magazines, journals, newspapers. I was also busy completing my doctorate in philosophy, majoring in religion.

Speaking of religion, the religious community (a very small one, as secularism had done its job) strangely enough, enjoyed the news of the program. But it’s not so strange, really. They saw it as a fit enough punishment for godless society. To be fucked by strangers, to be made mere breeding machines. I can’t help but agree. They didn’t worry much about the Continuity program. Their birth rates were the most prolific among all classes. Very rich as well, to say something obvious.

But just making babies wasn’t enough. No, our governments were more idealist than that. You had to raise them well, or risk them being whisked away from you and entered into one of their schools. They had to be taught that Continuity was the greatest goal. They must mature into baby makers and baby bearers. That was the ultimate doctrine.

I wondered…why so much resistance to Continuity? No women wanted babies, firstly. The hardship was a barrier. Their bodies were theirs alone, and not to be shared with another living being. Such was the logical conclusion of something called feminism. What is childbearing but inequality, weakness? So women became men and were to be no different. Men didn’t have babies. Each were to treat each other with love and fuck each other as much as they want. But women must not be subjected to the torture of childbearing.

Even with the government’s insistent admonitions that Continuity was only the last resort, and that you could avoid it if you just had more children fell unheeded. Women fled. Couples ran. They didn’t want children. They were adamant.

Infanticide and abortion was worthy of life sentences. So very few dared to so. Abortion clinics were closed down. Closed down would be an understatement, though. Much harsher ways were employed. Ironically, euthanasia (but only on the elderly) flourished. To them, old people were a wastage of resources. They have no breeding capabilities, and very few were willing (or able) to take care of children. So the sickly elderly had to go.

I hope that’s more than enough context you need.

As I walked home from my relatives’ birthday party. My cell phone rang. Breeder duties.

She was a young girl, maybe eleven, twelve. She was screened for diseases and certified by the doctor to be ready to be impregnated.

I took of my clothes and peeked, through the opening, what was taking place. She was undressing, helped by either her mother or some social worker. Most likely the latter. She slid through the opening.

Her legs were shut tight. I didn’t want to pry them open.

“Hey,” I said. “Do you think you can spread your legs a little?”

“Okay,” she said, softly. I smiled.

Don’t be afraid, I said. I’ll be gentle. In fact, you’ll find it enjoyable.

This sentence was entirely redundant, though. Nothing but a silly reassurance. She probably lost her virginity when she was five. In playschool. Like every other girl.

I was afraid my penis would be too big, but it fit in just fine. I heard her gasp as I slid it into her vagina. I stroked her legs. And then I thrust back and forth, gently, but firmly. She gasped again. Her gasps turned into moans. I stifled a groan. She came. I continued until I came.

As I ejected my seed into her stomach, I said softly: “There. Done.”

I slid out my penis, and she slid out her body.

I now hope that she becomes pregnant, and bears my child. I hope she takes care of him, or her, and hope that child will contribute its part in ensuring the survival of the human race.

Morals change. They come and go. We see people foolishly being revolted or adamant about something when their only source of ethics is that of culture or personal taste. But such criteria are absolutely unabsolute. They change. They are wiped away.

I can only hope that the Continuity Imperative as well as the notion of pleasure without consequence, is eroded away eventually. Let us hope our debt will be settled, and to learn to never borrow again, without imagining the consequences that lie ahead.
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