My jaw might actually dislocate if it drops any lower. Kate's been talking for hours now, each revelation more mind-blowing than the last, and I'm starting to wonder if I'm trapped in some bizarre fever dream.
"Let me get this straight," I say, pacing the length of my sterile white room for what must be the hundredth time. "Men are basically unicorns in this world?"
Kate nods from her perch on the edge of my bed, her eyes following my nervous movement. "That's one way to put it. The current ratio is approximately one male for every ten thousand females."
I stop pacing, letting that sink in. Ten thousand. The number is so absurd it doesn't even feel real.
"And that's... normal?" My voice cracks embarrassingly.
"It's been this way for generations now," she explains, her tone patient like she's talking to a child who's just discovered that water is wet. "After the Fertility pandemic of 1918, male birth rates plummeted worldwide."
I run my hands through my hair, tugging slightly at the roots just to feel something real. "So because there are so few of us, every guy has to..."
"Contribute," Kate finishes for me, her lips curving into a gentle smile. "It's considered your civic duty to provide genetic material."
My face burns hotter than the sun. "So it's my job to have sex with as many women as possible?" The words tumble out before I can stop them.
Kate's laugh is warm and rich, filling the sterile room with life. "You're acting flustered?" Her eyes sparkle with amusement. "This really is new..."
Before I can respond, she rises from the bed and approaches me with that graceful confidence that makes my heart race. Her hand reaches out, fingers gently gripping my chin, tilting my face up to meet her gaze. Her touch sends a shiver down my spine.
"I know it's scary," she says, her voice dropping to a husky whisper. "I know men find it troubling, I know men find it hard…" her thumb brushes lightly across my bottom lip, "but for all of humanity, we need you to provide as much of your seed as possible, Tyler."
My body responds instantly, embarrassingly. The thin fabric of these hospital-like clothes does absolutely nothing to hide my reaction. Kate's eyes flicker downward briefly, and the corner of her mouth quirks upward.
"So like, you and I..." The words die in my throat, my imagination racing wildly ahead of my ability to form coherent sentences, as I consider having sex with the woman of my literal dreams.
Kate's eyes go wide. "Me?"
I try to speak, but my mouth goes dry. The words stick in my throat like I've swallowed sand.
She recovers quickly, smoothing her hands down the front of her pristine uniform. "I'm a bit older, Tyler. We don't usually encourage men to sleep with women outside of prime childbearing age..." Her voice trails off, and I swear I see a flash of vulnerability cross her face before her professional mask slides back into place. "But since your track record has been so... barren, I'm sure the department would make an exception."
"What do you mean 'barren'?" The word stings, even though I have no memory of whatever she's referring to.
Kate sighs, sitting back down on my bed.
"Tyler, as of now... you're a bit of a difficult case." Her voice is gentle but matter-of-fact. "Since you turned eighteen, you've been incredibly hostile with us, refusing to perform any of your duties. And as it seems, your old guardian was probably abusing you behind closed doors because of this." She reaches out, her fingers hovering near my scar but not quite touching it. "This makes you a bit of a unique case."
The revelation hits me like a punch to the gut. In this world, I've apparently been some kind of rebellious problem child, refusing to be a breeding stud. And someone named Eliza hurt me because of it? I touch my scar again, tracing the raised line with my fingertip.
"I don't remember any of that," I whisper, knowing it happened to a different me.
Kate's expression softens. "That might be a blessing, honestly." Her hand finds mine, squeezing gently. "This amnesia gives us a chance to start fresh. No more trauma, no more resistance."
Something about her words makes my skin crawl, despite the warmth of her touch. There's an eagerness in her eyes that wasn't there before.
"So what happens now?" I ask, trying to ignore the way her thumb is tracing small circles on the back of my hand.
Kate's eyes meet mine, a knowing smile spreading across her face. "Well, you said you're interested in me?"
My eyes go wide, heart hammering against my ribs like it's trying to escape.
"Don't look so shocked," she continues, her voice softening to a silky purr. "It's not unusual for guardians and their wards to have... intimate relationships. In fact, it's even encouraged for us to take on maternal roles."
The word 'maternal' hits me like an electric shock. My breath catches in my throat as something long-buried inside me stirs to life. Having lost my mom at birth and growing up with a father who loved the bottom of a bottle more than he ever loved me, the idea of a nurturing maternal figure makes my chest ache with longing.
And not just any woman. Kate Flynn. The woman I've been dreaming about for as long as I can remember.
"Is that... something you'd be okay with?" I ask, my voice barely above a whisper. "I wouldn't want to…"
She cuts me off, her hand suddenly gripping my shoulder with surprising strength. For a split second, something wild flashes in her eyes, something hungry and possessive that makes my stomach flip with a mixture of excitement and fear. But it's gone so quickly I wonder if I imagined it, replaced by her usual warm gaze.
"Of course it's okay, Tyler," she says, her voice steady and certain. "It would be my honor for both of us to give our first times to each other."
I blink rapidly, sure I've misheard her. "Both of us?" The words come out strangled.
Kate nods, her expression suddenly vulnerable in a way I haven't seen before. "Most women don't get to experience sex, Tyler."
My brain struggles to process this. "But you're... I mean, you seem so..." I can't even finish the thought. The idea that Kate, confident, beautiful, perfect Kate, is as inexperienced as I am seems impossible.
"Just because I'm your guardian doesn't mean I've had special privileges," she explains, her fingers now tracing gentle patterns on my arm. "Men are assigned based on genetic compatibility and reproductive potential. They always prioritized me to work. And now at my current age… I never really had a good opportunity."
There's a heaviness to her last word that makes my chest tighten. How lonely must this world be for women? Thousands competing for the attention of one man, most never experiencing physical intimacy their entire lives…
Or more likely they're probably all just lesbians? Who knows.
"I don't know what to say," I admit.
"You don't have to say anything," she whispers, leaning closer. Her scent envelops me, something clean and floral.
Kate suddenly stands. Her tall form towering over me, her professional demeanor returning like she's flipped a switch. She walks to a small cabinet I hadn't noticed before, retrieving a small cup.
"Tyler," she says, turning to face me with the cup in her hand, "I need to go secure formal approval from the New Boston Council for our personal arrangement." She holds the sterile container out to me, her expression gentle but expectant.
My stomach does a nervous flip. "For our what now?"
"Our coupling," she clarifies, her voice softening. "But while I'm gone, I need you to be brave for me. There's something we require, something you've consistently refused to provide in the past."
"What's that?"
"We need a reproductive sample from you, Tyler," Kate says, holding the cup a little closer.
"Oh," I say, the words finally clicking. "Yeah, sure. No problem."
She smiles warmly, her shoulders relaxing. "Wonderful."
Her expression shifts suddenly, a flicker of nervousness crossing her face as she tucks a loose strand of auburn hair behind her ear. "Eliza mentioned once that you refused to learn how to properly provide a sample." She hesitates, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. "All guardians are trained to assist if you'd like my help."
My brain immediately splits into two warring factions. The gentleman in me says to refuse, to spare her the awkwardness. But the hormonal young man who's fantasized about this woman for years is screaming at me to seize this opportunity. When the woman of your dreams offers to give you a handjob, you don't exactly turn it down.
"Is that... allowed?" I ask, my voice embarrassingly high-pitched.
Kate cocks an eyebrow, looking almost amused. "Of course it is. The Department of Fertility's entire purpose is to make it as easy and painless as possible for men to provide samples for the world."
I blink hard, still somewhat struggling to grasp this insane new reality. "Really?"
She seems genuinely surprised by my surprise. "Yes, of course. It's no trouble at all, Tyler."
I glance down at my hospital-style robe, noticing for the first time how it's perfectly designed for easy access. My erection is straining painfully against the thin fabric, leaving little to the imagination.
With trembling hands, I slowly part the front of my robe, freeing my cock. It springs forth, almost comically eager, and I hear Kate's sharp intake of breath.
She stares at it with wide eyes, her tongue unconsciously swiping across her lower lip. My heart is pounding so hard I'm sure she can hear it, echoing off the sterile white walls of this strange room.
When she reaches out, her hands are gentle, hesitant even. The first touch makes me wince, not from pain, but from the overwhelming sensation. It's the first time anyone else has ever touched me like this, and it's Kate Flynn, of all people.
"Does this hurt?" she asks, her grip loosening slightly.
I can't form words. Can't think straight. My eyes are locked on the constellation of freckles scattered across her chest, visible in the deep cleavage of her uniform. The contrast of her pristine white clothes against her freckled skin is hypnotic.
"N-no," I finally manage to stammer. "Just... sensitive."
Kate moves closer, her thigh pressing against mine as she slides along the edge of the bed. The heat of her body seeps through the thin fabric of my robe, making my breath hitch. Her height means I'm eye-level with her shoulder, and I catch another whiff of that floral scent that's driving me crazy.
"Let me teach you," she says softly, her fingers still loosely wrapped around me. "This is something every man should know how to do properly."
I nod, not trusting my voice. Kate's proximity is overwhelming, the warmth radiating from her body, the gentle rise and fall of her chest, the way her uniform stretches across her curves.
"First," she continues, her voice taking on a professional tone that somehow makes this even hotter, "you want to establish a rhythm." Her hand begins to move, slowly sliding up and down my shaft. "Not too fast at the beginning. You want to build up to it."
I bite my lip to stop from moaning. Her touch is electric, sending sparks shooting through my entire body.
"Is this okay?" she asks, her professional demeanor cracking slightly as her eyes remain fixed on her hand's movements.
"Y-yeah," I manage to choke out.
A small smile plays at the corner of her mouth. "Good. Now, pay attention to what feels best." Her grip tightens slightly, and she twists her wrist on the upstroke in a way that makes me gasp.
I'm barely processing her words. My entire universe has narrowed to the sensation of her hand on me.
"You can use lubricant to make it more comfortable," she continues, her clinical tone at odds with the flush spreading across her cheeks. "We have special formulations designed for optimal sample collection, but..." she pauses, swallowing hard, "saliva works in a pinch."
Before I can process what she's saying, Kate brings her free hand to her mouth and she spits on her palm, the sight nearly making me lose it then and there. When she returns that hand to me, the warm wetness is almost too much to bear.
"Oh god," I groan, my hips involuntarily bucking upward.
"That's it," she encourages, her voice dropping to a husky whisper. "Don't fight the sensation."
I notice her thighs pressing together, shifting slightly as she continues her demonstration. Despite her professional pretense, Kate is clearly affected by this. Her pupils are dilated, her breathing shallow, and a faint blush has spread from her cheeks down to her chest.
"Kate," I whisper, my voice catching in my throat, "I'm about to…"
Her eyes go wide with excitement, and in one fluid motion, she grabs the cup with her free hand. Despite the sudden movement, she doesn't break her rhythm, her other hand continuing its perfect, maddening pace.
"That's it," she encourages, a wide smile spreading across her face. There's unmistakable pride in her expression, like I've accomplished something truly remarkable. "Go ahead, Tyler. Let go for me."
I couldn't look away from her if I tried. Her lips, slightly parted in concentration. Her eyes, bright with an intensity that makes my heart stutter. The world narrows to just her face, just this moment.
My release hits me like a tidal wave. I moan embarrassingly loud as I buck my hips upward in her grip, my body acting on pure instinct. Kate expertly positions the cup, catching every drop as I empty myself into the sterile container.
"You're doing so good, Tyler," she whispers, her voice thick with emotion.
The way she's looking at me, it's like I've suddenly become the center of her universe. Like everything else has faded to background noise. Her eyes are locked on mine, filled with something that looks dangerously close to adoration.
I continue thrusting helplessly into her grip, riding out the waves of pleasure as she maintains her steady pace, drawing out every last sensation. My head falls back, eyes squeezing shut as the intensity borders on too much.
"That's it," she murmurs, her voice soothing. "Every drop is precious."
When I finally open my eyes again, Kate is staring at the cup with a strange mixture of reverence and scientific curiosity. She carefully seals it with a small cap, her movements precise and practiced.
"That was..." I trail off, unable to find words adequate enough to describe what just happened.
"Successful," Kate finishes for me, but there's a softness to her voice that suggests she means more than just the clinical outcome. She sets the sealed cup aside on a small tray, then turns back to me. "And quite impressive, if I may say so."
I can't tear my eyes away from her. As always, something about Kate Flynn holds me captivated, the confident set of her shoulders, the way authority radiates from her like heat from a flame, the gentle curve of her smile that somehow makes me feel safe.
"You know, Tyler," she says, tucking a strand of auburn hair behind her ear, "if you continue being this cooperative, I can ensure you live an extremely comfortable life here." Her eyes sparkle with something I can't quite read. "The men who embrace their civic duty receive the finest accommodations, the best food, even recreational privileges."
My heart hammers against my ribs as I process her words. The promise of comfort, of safety, of her continued approval, it's intoxicating. I've spent my whole life seeking validation, craving stability, wanting someone to care.
"I'd do anything for you, Ms. Flynn," I blurt out before I can stop myself.
The words hang in the air between us, more intimate than the act we just shared. Kate freezes, her eyes widening slightly. A blush spreads across her cheeks, painting her freckled skin with a rosy glow. But she doesn't look embarrassed. There's something else there, something that makes my stomach flip.
She looks... triumphant.
Her lips curl into a slow, satisfied smile as she studies my face. Like she's just won something precious, something she's been pursuing for a long time. The intensity of her gaze makes me feel both exposed and cherished.
"Just Kate, remember?" she says softly, her voice warm but firm.
"Sorry."