Day 3

The next day’s travels went well until they came to the bridge. Two of the supports were noticeably out of place - seemingly dislodged by flood debris - and a portion of the top was drooping. Ella and Izzy unpacked lunch while Dylan and John investigated.

“Hey Brigitte,” Henry asked cautiously. “That guy last night - what did he do to you?”

“Huh? Nothing! He was a total gentleman!” Brigitte answered.

“No, but I mean, what did he do?” Henry pressed. “‘Cause I want to learn whatever it was.”

“Shut up!” Brigitte insisted bashfully.

Predictably, Izzy rushed to join the conversation. “Ooh, yeah, what did he do?”

Brigitte closed her arms around herself and shook her head, but Izzy persisted. “Was it spanking? Did he lick your beaver? Did he put something in your butt? Were there feathers?”

Brigitte shied away even more. “Well what did she sound like?” Izzy asked Henry.

Henry did his best to imitate Brigitte’s moans from the night before. It was strange to hear what were decidedly feminine sounds in a male voice. “But it went on forever,” he added.

“Yeah, I don’t know,” Izzy concluded. “Next time you’ll just have to watch,” she told Henry.

“Oh my god, no!” Brigitte protested. Despite her embarrassment, a part of her enjoyed the attention, and the recognition that she seemed to be doing sex well. She wished that they would ask her something specific - something with a simple answer she could give them.

Through the whole discussion, Ella watched silently and coldly.

The bridge was unsafe; they would have to take the long way to Crater. After a long day of driving they set up camp a few hundred yards away from the road. There would be no need for a formal guard rotation here, Dylan told them; Crater did a good job of keeping the nomads away.

Henry and John got their blowjobs. Dylan said he wasn’t in the mood. Brigitte was proud of herself: this time she got John off in a little over a minute. During that time, though, John was watching Izzy get completely naked and commenting about her lack of pubic hair.

Brigitte woke up in the middle of the night with a pestering bladder. She should have woken up Henry to escort her, she knew, but it seemed a shame to wake him over something so trivial.

While she was relieving herself she kept hearing a strange noise repeating at a regular interval. It wasn’t from any bird or frog that she knew, so she took a moment to investigate. As she grew close she saw light from an electric lantern through the bushes.

It was Dylan and Ella. They were fucking ... like animals. Ella was on her elbows and knees on a blanket, completely naked. She had a stick in her mouth that she was biting, presumably to keep from crying out. Dylan was kneeling behind her, just as naked. He kept thrusting his dick into her, hard. His hands firmly held her hips, controlling her and keeping her in place while he used her.

Brigitte couldn’t believe that she was witnessing such an act of criminality. She knew that it happened sometimes, of course: malbreeding - copulating with someone from your own village. She never imagined that anyone she knew would be capable of it, though.

Their backs were to her, thankfully.

It was easy to see why even someone from Appa would be attracted to Dylan. He had a protector’s body: all the right amounts of muscle in all the right places for both strength and agility. The shirtless muscular man from Woolton might have made a good blacksmith, but for what made a real man, in Brigitte’s estimation, Dylan was unrivaled. Dylan’s butt and thighs tensed with every thrust he made into his partner-in-crime.

Brigitte failed to see how Ella was appealing at all like this, on the other hand. Her cousin was beautiful normally - or at least she would have been if she ever smiled - but Dylan probably couldn’t even see any of her womanly features like this. With her boobs swinging beneath her while her body rocked, Brigitte thought she looked more like a sow than a woman. It was hard to imagine that she had allowed herself to be put in a position of such indignity.

Despite the stick in her mouth, Ella began to let out a needy whimper. Dylan grunted in answer and sped his thrusting. Ella’s sounds became more urgent, and then she arched her back and squealed. Dylan’s fingers dug into her hips and he grunted again, and then stopped moving. Ella collapsed onto her side and then rolled to her back, spitting out the stick and laughing. For a few seconds she shared a genuinely joyful look with her lover, but then her eyes shifted to Brigitte and her face turned sour.

Brigitte dashed away toward camp. Frantically she dove into the tent and under the blanket, pretending as hard as she could to sleep. Soon, Ella was standing at the tent’s opening, whispering, “Brigitte, get out here.”

She continued her ruse. Dylan whispered, “Come on Brigitte, we just want to talk.” When she refused to stir, Dylan grabbed her ankle and began pulling her.

“Okay, geez!” Brigitte spat, kicking her ankle free of Dylan’s grasp. The criminal pair led her to the other side of the truck, away from uninvited ears.

Ella tried to sound sympathetic. “Brigitte, what we were doing wasn’t illegal. See? We used this.”

Ella held out a translucent tube. It looked like a sausage casing tied at one end. There was a white jelly-like substance in the closed end. “See? All of his sperm was contained. He couldn’t have made me pregnant.”

“It’s still wrong,” Brigitte asserted.

“No, it’s not,” Dylan countered. “We’re in love - the before-bunker sort of love. We know what our babies would be like if we mated. That’s why she’s out on circuit, like you. But us wanting to be together? That’s totally natural, and right.”

Brigitte was defiant. “If you loved her you wouldn’t have treated her like an animal. You demeaned her.”

Ella’s friendly facade slipped. “You are such a child! There are lots of ways of doing it! He was giving it to me exactly like I wanted, and making me feel better than any circuit host ever did!”

“And another thing!” Ella lectured. “This? Is not that uncommon.” She pointed back and forth between Dylan and herself. “Half of the pregnant women back home are getting it from someone. Nobody talks about it, but it’s true. You don’t stop wanting it just because you’re with child. You’ll see.”

“You know what they’ll do to you if you’re caught,” Brigitte argued. The consequences were the same everywhere: castration of the sire, and of the offspring too if it’s a boy.

“That’s why we’re careful,” Dylan told her. “Look, Brigitte, I don’t expect you to understand, but I hope we can count on you not to tell anyone. But if you’re going to, just give us a day’s warning so we can get out of town, okay?”

Brigitte was shocked by the realization that their futures were in her hands. She didn’t like the idea of that kind of responsibility. “Where would you go?” She asked. “To live with the nomads?”

Dylan and Ella glanced at each other. This was obviously something they had talked about. “They say the medical machines in Athens’ bunker have been broken for years. They can’t test who sired a child. There are rumors that they’re becoming more tolerant.”

“Look, Brigitte, you are young. There’s a lot you don’t know yet.” Ella said, once again taking on a gentle tone. “Sometimes there’s a difference between what’s lawful and what’s just.”

Turbulent thoughts, both civil and sexual, kept Brigitte awake after her talk with Dylan and Ella. She reflected on law: the needs of the community versus people’s individual rights. But she also wondered how it would feel having a piece of sheep intestine sliding through her vagina instead of a human penis. She thought about what it would be like to be on her knees with some grunting man that she couldn’t even see filling her up. She wondered if Izzy had ever let a man do that to her. She probably had. Could Brigitte even ask the older girl something like that? And she imagined, only fleetingly, her brother Henry lying on top of her, pumping his seed into her belly. These thoughts were all disturbing, but for some reason she didn’t want to let go of them.

Day 4

Several times during the drive the next day, Ella glanced back at Brigitte from the truck’s cab. She was wondering, no doubt, whether Brigitte was saying anything to their other companions. Brigitte was happy to let her wonder.

When the time came for chaperon blowjobs, Ella surprised everyone by claiming Henry. Izzy slid up beside Dylan with a wicked grin, leaving a hopeful John standing in front of Brigitte.

He asked to see her boobs. The dress she was wearing was easy to open with a row of buttons in front, so Brigitte indulged her neighbor by revealed her springy globes to him.

“Yours are better,” John said softly with a guilty smile.

Brigitte selected a nice comfortable patch of grass to kneel on and began her work on John’s dick. She pulled together all of the lessons she had learned lately and performed what she figured was a pretty good suck-job. John’s eyes were fixed on her the whole time, fascinated by the jiggling of her breasts.

John came fairly quickly. Henry took a little longer. Then the four waited quietly for the final couple to finish. After several minutes Brigitte invented an excuse to go near the cab where Izzy was servicing Dylan. The doors were closed so Brigitte couldn’t see anything, but she could hear Dylan groaning inside: “Please, Izzy, let me come. Ughn! Ohhhh! Oh fuck I need to cooooooome!”

A few minutes later Izzy emerged from the cab with a bounce in her step. She grinned broadly, first at everyone but then focused just on Ella. Ella returned an icy stare. Dylan joined the rest a short while later and presented their emergency plan, looking not quite as sharp as usual.

Crater treated its visiting circuit girls like royalty. They had a building made just for the purpose: each girl was given her own room where her chosen man would inseminate her, and then she would sleep for the night. Each of those had a smaller adjoining room for a chaperon. There was a cafeteria, a ballroom, and a real working video game called Ms. Pacman.