Chapter 151

0745 hours, local time
Wednesday, 6 August, 2014
The Kendricks Residence
Louisville, KY

As I entered Hilda and Heather Sayler in a threesome, going back and forth, I watched with approval as Amy and Carrie shared Earl with the same level of enthusiasm. Schumacher Syndromes affected them as completely as the rest of us by now. I saw Andy and Paul sharing Becca in a “devil’s triangle” as well, the former in her pussy from below and the latter up her as from above. The breeding work was long since done by now, of course. Every woman, teenage girl, and futa lady in the room was already pregnant and then some, by multiple men, naturally.

The sex going on by now was pure recreation instead of procreation, as I proved by sticking my cock up each lady’s ass. Every possible combination had taken place over the course of the past twelve hours, with each of us taking necessary breaks to deal with bodily needs and personal responsibilities from time to time. This was a marathon, not a sprint, after all. We had to pace ourselves and we couldn’t ignore other aspects of our lives, could we, even though this was a sacred duty as well.

I had already knocked up every single (and married) woman, teenage girl, and futa lady who came within my personal space in the past two days. They were all pregnant with either quadruplets, quintuplets, or sextuplets, depending upon the circumstances. Ella Switch was the exception, carrying octuplets, no less: mine, Ryan’s, Till’s, Yitzhak’s, Barry’s, God’s (he appeared long enough to ensure that happened), Ashley’s, and Michael’s (yes, as in the archangel). Special attention to her prenatal health would be crucial in the present situation.

“You’ve come a long way in a relatively short time, my dear boy. It has taken you a while to grasp that being a sperm donor in this fashion doesn’t make you a deadbeat father. You are simply doing your sacred duty and spreading your worthy seed, honoring these ladies and their families in the process. Now you understand, though, don’t you? You know that is one of your obligations, the sacred responsibility to sire better progeny for the greater good of humanity and posterity.

“For that reason, among others, I allowed you to suggest a particular action, which I took, of course. The juvenile soldiers are now free of their masters. I smote those traffickers with my great wrath and judgment, avenging the slave on the slaver. They now live freely in Yangon in an orphanage which seemed decent enough for that purpose. Anyone else?” God confronted me now with a hint of mischief.

“Free all victims of human traffickers in Myanmar, no matter what kind. They might end up enslaved all over again, but that is a worry for a different time. I must do my part at least. At least they are aware of the value of their freedom, having lost it. Free all camp inmates in Myanmar, too. If slavery can be entirely extinguished in one part of the world, even temporarily, that’s another step forward to a better, more harmonious civilization,” I commented, even as some six naked teenage girls and six naked teenage futanari from Myanmar appeared to offer me their bodies next.

I didn’t hesitate to enter each of them, even as I encouraged every guy and futa available to breed the Myanmar dozen as well. As I humped, pumped, and dumped my way through each lady, I passed each girl to the next man or futa and the next. Far from objecting or protesting, the ladies winked at me and gladly surrendered to my guidance and allowed more breeders to quicken their wombs. I suddenly realized that, through some additional miracle, every woman, futa, and teenage girl present was either knocked up with octuplets or about to be.

“Relax, they’ll be fine, my lad. As God speaking to my Prophet, I assure you of that. I plan to eventually have the Myanmarese breed with all of my angels and Prophets, just as an example and a test case for the ultimate victory of the transhumanist future. Man’s destiny is to give way to the next stage of evolution, beyond his own fate, just as Neanderthal and Denisovan Man paved the way for Modern Man. It will be fascinating to see the results.

“In the meantime, once this orgy and the subsequent breakfast are concluded, you are to lead those among the city elders who are already disciples of yours to the now former Mormon temple. There you will baptize as many as desire it as members of the Church of the New Man. Then you will ordain as many as you trust to be clergy of the nascent church of this community. Then you will formally wed as many as you wish and officiate the weddings of others.

“After that, there will be a wedding banquet for all of you, with plenty of meat and drink for all. Then you will retire to the Switch household for the night, with Ella as your hostess. You and a huge number of spouses, friends, and lovers, I mean. Tomorrow, you will greet refugees from the Rust Belt states, especially Ohio. You will add as many women, futanari, and teenage girls from among them, even changing teenage boys and grown ass men to futanari in the process,” God instructed me now, even as we all finished our clusterfuck.

“Breakfast time, I presume? I will gladly cook. It will be my turn and my pleasure. It’s the least that I can do for each of you, who are now bound to me and I to you, as friends, family, and lovers. I hope to be formally married to the Prophet, even if I won’t see him again for years. It will make his return so much sweeter, since he would have every right to simply take me as soon as he arrives,” Hilda Sayler now volunteered to cook for all (except for the nursing infants).