The starship "Ad Astra" has been my home for more than forty years; I was orphaned by the Nano Wars when I was 8, but my parents--who were influential with the New Hope Society--saw that I was taken aboard the giant interstellar vessel when the world political situation began to deteriorate.
Nearly 15 kilometers long, "Ad Astra" is basically a giant cylinder designed to rotate and create artificial gravity for the 10,000 people living inside; although I barely remember the cities of Earth, the older people say the inside resembles a quiet suburb, with apartment blocks, farms and rivers filling the inner surface of the cylinder.
Of course, if you live on this ship like me, you would know that, but this record may survive our interstellar journey. Originally, "Ad Astra" was propelled by a light sail--a vast rig designed to catch photons beamed at the ship from a gigantic laser in Earth's orbit--but we lost the laser just two years into the journey.
Most of our crew figured the laser had been shot down by forces of the Terran Union--the military government of Earth, opposed to the New Hope Society--but, for whatever reason, a trip to Tau Ceti that should have taken half of my lifetime would take several hundred years instead.
But that wasn't the end of our problems; shortly after the laser went down, all the men and boys on the ship started dropping dead. It appeared that the Terran Union had sabotaged our life support system with a Nano-Plague virus--one specifically aimed at males-- and only about 50 young boys survived. I was one of them; as it happened, all of the hundred boys and girls in my school were quarantined in the ship's hospital with Amazonian Meta-Pox-another disease probably foisted on us by the Terran Union--but ironically, that one saved my life.
I would stay in the hospital with other boys--ages 10 to 14--while the ship's women systematically flushed the Nano-Plague virus from the life support system, and tossed the corpses of their fathers, brothers, sons and husbands into space. When I was finally let out of the hospital--now 11--I found I was treated like a priceless jewel.
Girls fussed over me, and women intervened whenever I looked like I might be doing anything remotely dangerous; but it was the same with all the other boys--we represented the only hope for the population's survival. I didn't understand that at the time; all I could see was how traumatized my stepmother was with the death of her husband, and how much my stepsisters Angel and Sara--ages 12 and 13--missed their dad.
With a catastrophe like that, things were never really normal again; women took over all the jobs men used to have--from farming, to life support maintenance, to firefighting--and we boys continued to be pampered.
But then, about two years later, something strange happened; women started getting pregnant all over the ship. That included my 8th grade teacher, our school principal, and even my stepmother. She was clearly embarrassed: she didn't even tell me until she was six months along, and it was pretty obvious something strange had happened.
"But how can you have a baby without Dad?"
"Oh, Jason," Mom said, embracing me as best she could, with her swollen belly between us; "Mommy had to have some help, now that your Dad is gone..."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, the Plague took away all our men," Mom said, tearfully; "but we have to have babies to keep the colony alive..."
"So Mommy had to have some help ... to make another baby..."
Mom didn't clarify that--she was pretty upset--but I soon got a full run-down on the situation. At the start of the 9th grade, my beautiful teacher--the widowed Mrs. Amanda Blaylock--took me aside for a private meeting after school. I felt a little awkward about that; although I had only just entered her class, I had seen her around the school before, and she figured prominently in my fantasies after I discovered masturbation about a year before. 42 years old, with a pretty face and long red hair swept back with a barrette, she had huge breasts and trim sexy legs, generally complimented by strappy high-heeled sandals. Somehow, she didn't quite seem to belong on an interstellar spacecraft, but every boy in school had a crush on her.
"Did you want to see me, Mrs. Blaylock?"
"Oh yes," she said, inviting me to take a seat opposite hers.
"Jason, have you heard of the Seed Project?"
"The what... ?"
"Well, I'm sure you've noticed that a lot of our women have been having babies recently. To be frank, that's because Captain Brazil has ordered a crash-breeding program to reconstitute our male population. All our surviving males--ages 14 and up--are being asked to copulate with random, anonymous partners."
At this point, Mrs. Blaylock crossed her legs and I felt dizzy—both from catching a glimpse of her panties beneath her skirt, and from trying to understand what she was saying.
"We haven't involved the younger girls yet," she continued, "but that'll be changing soon. What I need to know is if you'd be willing to have sex with our females, so they can have babies."
Suddenly--thinking about the many older girls and women I knew--I felt the blood draining from my head. I thought about the girls I'd had crushes on--the 10th grader Baksho Devi, my classmate Suki Nakayama, Mrs. Blaylock--and I nearly passed out.
"Easy there, tiger," Mrs. Blaylock said, catching me as I reeled in my seat; "it's not as exciting as you think."
"Huh?" I said, woozily. Close by now, I could smell Mrs. Blaylock's perfume--vaguely resembling fresh-baked bread--and recovered my senses.
"You'd have to do it in the dark," Mrs. Blaylock explained, "and there's no talking. It has to be impersonal, so you and your partner don't recognize each other."
"What if a girl ... doesn't want to do it?"
"Well, that's not an option; the captain wants the population built up now, before you boys get older and nuclear families start re-forming with husbands and wives. You can imagine, a husband wouldn't necessarily want his wife to be going off to get poked by a random stranger every weekend."
"Does this mean I can't have a girlfriend? Would that be disruptive?"
"No," Mrs. Blaylock said, smiling, "Project Seed is just for the short-term; eventually, boys and girls will go back to having normal lives."
"So, should I ask my mom if it's okay?"
"No, she already knows we're having this talk. So what do you say?"
"I think I'd like to have sex," I said.
"Good man. I knew you'd be a team player."
Somewhat sheepishly, I told Mom about Project Seed, but she already knew all about it--that was where she'd gotten her baby. My sisters were a lot more embarrassed--they'd be partners for someone, too--but I was assured by Mrs. Blaylock that the computer wouldn't assign me to someone from my own family.
So I waited, impatiently, for my first appointment with a random partner. It would come the next weekend at the Ship's Nursery, where all the anonymous coupling had been taking place, so (perhaps irrationally), I stopped masturbating, wanting to be as potent as possible.
Unfortunately, that meant my balls were positively aching with pressure by the time I showed up for my session, and my discomfort was hardly assuaged when I was met by a chubby, brown-skinned lady with enormous breasts nursing a light-skinned baby. Breast-feeding like that was hardly unusual, but the baby didn't look more than a few days old: was it that urgent to breed, that ladies weren't even taking breaks between pregnancies... ?
"You must be Jason," the lady said, extending a free hand to shake; "I'm Dolly Mendoza."
"You seem ... busy," I noted; "should I come back later... ?"
Dolly seemed confused for a moment, then realized that I must have thought she was my partner.
"Oh, I'm not your partner," Dolly said; "I'm just here to show you how things work."
"So, is that your baby?"
"No, I was just nursing this little one because his own mother is pretty young and didn't have much milk. I've got plenty of milk myself, though, after I squeezed out my last little one a month ago...
"I'd like to have another," she added with a wink, "but I haven't had a chance to work on that yet."
I looked down sheepishly at her toes, tightly bound in the vamps of chunky cork-soled sandals and poking out under the hem of her long skirt. Dolly then handed the newborn over to another lady who took over the nursing and invited me to follow her to a red-lit bedchamber. It was surprisingly bare aside from a single large bed with plush sheets, but it wasn't a hotel so I wasn't too surprised.
I certainly was suprised, however, when we entered the room and Dolly's voice suddenly sounded unfamiliar as she spoke; if I hadn't known it was her, I wouldn't have recognized her at all from the strange pitch and tone of her voice.
"You'll notice the change in my voice," Dolly said.
"Yeah, what's up with that?" I asked, hearing my own voice sound strange in my ears.
"We discourage you or your partner to speak in the chamber," Dolly said, "but if you do, the vocal modulator will make it hard to recognize who is with you. And of course we'll turn the lights down all the way before you begin."
"Should I get undressed?"
"Here, let me help you," Dolly said.
She said it so matter-of-factly, I didn't even think to protest. A few moments later, I was sitting naked on the side of the bed, with Dolly standing fully clothed beside me.
"Ma'am," I said, "what's it like ... the first time?"
She smiled. "It'll be special. The girl knows it's your first time."
"Well, geez," I said, "what if I cum too soon? I don't want to embarrass her."
Again, the matronly Dolly smiled. "Well, maybe I can help a little," she said.
Then--to my utter amazement--she put her hand on my shoulder and pushed me onto my back on the bed. Still fully-clothed, she then got on the bed with me, straddling my hips, and took my cock in her hand; I was rock-hard in a second, but--before I could even react--she lifted up her skirt with her free hand, pulled her panties aside, and settled down on top of me. I felt my drooling cock-head touch her velvety-soft labia, then slip inside her as she sank downward, sliding a wet sheath of fertile flesh down around my achingly stiff penis.
"Oh, fuck... !" I gasped, feeling the helmet of my dick touch her cervix; I looked into her eyes--the eyes of a mother, compassionate and loving--and exploded deep inside her.
"Oh god... !" I grunted, suddenly grasping her hips and thrusting upward, squirting a seemingly endless flow of sperm deep inside her belly; thanks to my pent-up horniness, the cum blasted out in long jets rather spurts, and I was almost embarrassed to give her such a dousing. Dolly took the drenching with equanimity, though, holding me gently in her inside muscles until I had squeezed out every last drop.
"I'll give you a moment," Dolly said afterward, still cradling my penis inside her, "then send her in."
"Wait a minute," I said; "what if something happens, or she wants me to stop?"
Dolly smiled at me.
"You see that green light beside the bed?" she said; "either one of you can touch that, and it will signal that you're done. Just don't get carried away..."
Dolly paused, surprising me with a gentle pelvic thrust.
" ... or we might not ask you to come back."
"Well, that wouldn't be good."
Again my partner smiled, sitting there a long while with my shaft still deep inside her. She then leaned forward to give me a kiss, let my penis slip out of her creamy hole, and rose up off me. Spent for the moment, I could only watch as she departed, the door closed behind her with a slight hiss and the lights faded to black. Another slight hiss then told me that my actual partner had arrived.
I didn't know who she was--I made sure to keep quiet--and I wasn't sure quite how old she was, but she seemed to know what she was doing. In the dark, she slid down beside me, and nuzzled my neck as she felt for my penis. It was still slick--I think that startled her a little--but I was instantly hard, and that was the main thing she cared about. She let me fondle her breasts--they were nice and firm--then pulled me over on top of her. Aware of my "virginity", she gently guided my penis up to her hole, then eased the tip inside herself.
It certainly felt good; she was warm and soft inside, and I wondered who she might be--even as I felt my shaft sink inside her, and my balls came to a rest on her ass. Little Baksho? Suki? My Mom... ?
Maybe it was even one of my stepsisters...
Of course, I knew better--but she was still somebody's daughter, lying beneath me with my cock nudging her womb. The thought was certainly arousing; I started to grind her--deep and hard--and I felt her groan with delight. She probably expected me to cum soon, but my benefactor Dolly had taken the edge off; I was solid--I could feel her pussy-mouth stretched around my shaft-- and I could feel her cervix, too, every time I went deep. Whoever she was--young or old, student, technician or teacher--she was clearly pleased at my stamina, and wrapped her legs around my back, even as I pumped her.
"Oh, baby... !" she whispered, "Make me cum... !"
I didn't recognize her voice (probably thanks to the modulator) but I felt my cock stiffen even harder, realizing what I was doing to her. Inadvertently, I was grinding her clitoris between our pubic bones, and her pussy began to clutch at me, seeming to suck me deeper inside her.
"Oh, I think I'm gonna cum..." I whispered back.
Thankfully--for my youthful self-esteem--she came first, tensing her body, then shuddering as pleasure washed through her hips. She actually bit my shoulder--surprising me--even as her cunt sucked and pulled at my penis.
"Oh, sorry--!" she said.
"That's all right," I said, finally pushing in deep and squirting my sperm into her belly. She sounded fairly mature--more than I should know, I guessed--but I didn't want to embarrass her, or break the rules, so I just leaned in close to her and nibbled on her neck. I was surprised how hard I came--long, creamy jets of semen flowed from my cock, plastering the mouth of her womb--and I kept on pushing until I was sure that I had squeezed out every last drop.
I needed a rest after that, and the enormity of what I was doing did hit me then; wriggling away inside my partner's body, my sperm might soon find and fertilize an egg that might make me a father--and that was no less true of the prodigious cum-load I'd pumped into fertile Dolly earlier.
We did it two more times after that--once with her riding me, and once with me fucking her from behind--and she was quite soaked with cum by the time she finally touched the green light, sparing me the embarrassment; she probably could have gone all night. As the lights began to fade up, she kissed me good-bye, but was gone before I could even catch a glimpse of her features.
What was strange was how little us guys talked about it. Maybe that's because every guy soon had a mother or sister--or both--with newborn babies, and more on the way. Both my sisters were soon pregnant, as was Mom (with her second), and I couldn't help but wonder which of my classmates might have done it--might have thrust his cock deep inside little Angel or Sara or Mom, and filled her womb with his seed.
Whoever did it, there were soon hundreds of babies on the way and that caused problems because few ladies could be spared from their work to be full-time caregivers. Thus, Nursery Homes began to form--essentially collective homes staffed by full-time mothers--and those would raise most of the babies. The Captain herself--46-year old Miranda Brazil--turned up plump with her first baby a few months later, and thinking about that sure put the stiffness in my cock when I returned to the Ship's Nursery for my weekly anonymous fuck; I might have been the father, for all I knew.
Indeed, I soon learned I was the father of at least one baby. About four months later after my first fuck, the Ship's Nursery doctor (Sophia Bern--a cute 33-year old brunette with her own first pregnancy just starting to show) confirmed that my semen had knocked up at least one of my partners, which qualified me to continue in the project.
"At least one? You mean there might be more?"
"Oh, you're plenty potent," Dr. Bern replied with a sly smile, looking at a report she didn't share with me; "but don't worry about that. I'll give you a full report later."
Not unlike Mrs. Blaylock, Dr. Bern was pretty hot, even with her baby bump; she had nice long legs that she liked to cross and uncross in front of me, giving me the occasional glimpse of her panties. Between that and shankless platform sandals that left the soles of her feet almost completely exposed, she figured in more than one of my fantasies as well.
"Doctor," I said, summoning my courage, "I know you're already ... expecting ... but would you like to, you know, do it... ? Dolly let me."
To my surprise, she seemed to consider it.
"That would be fun," she said, glancing at her watch, "but I wouldn't want to rush. Why don't I let you know when there's a better time?"
Despite my abundant sex life, that suggestion made my cock twitch in my pants, and I was certainly thinking of the doctor that afternoon when I had my next partner, a petite young girl who rode me to a trembling climax before I rolled her over and planted a generous helping of cum deep inside her belly; knowing that I already had at least one baby growing inside another lady, I unloaded a flood of semen that seemed to startle the girl as it just kept coming and coming.
"Damn!" she said, "are you trying to knock up our grandkids too?"
"Sorry," I replied, as my pulsing cock finally stilled inside her; "you're just so hot, I couldn't help myself."
In fact, I was actually thinking more about the doctor (and wondering if I might have planted the baby already in her belly), but even a young boy knows it doesn't pay to be too honest. Unfortunately, the doctor never seemed to find time to fuck me, but she was often on my mind as I masturbated. I now realized that masturbating was a good technique to keep up my stamina: I was only allowed one partner per week in the project and I wanted to enjoy that to the full, so jacking off kept me from popping my nut the moment I touched a girl, and also gave me endurance to make it good for her--whoever she was.
Every lady was different: some were a bit on the plump or chubby side, others trim and youthful; some lay there while I pumped them, and others were very vigorous and orgasmic. But surprisingly, most weren't all that quiet; most of them started out obeying the rule of silence, but I think between the darkness and the vocal modulator, a lot of them felt freer to relax than they might have been otherwise. Between that, my youthful horniness, and the realization that I would soon be pumping my cum into yet another unprotected womb, it was never difficult for me to get it up and keep it up.