Chapter 1: Drafted

In 2028 is when the problem started. In typical American fashion after eight years of a president half the country hated, and the other half voted for because of the first half. The pendulum swung back and back further than most had expected. The surprise of 2016 was one thing but the one in 2028 was huge.

Doing everything in their power to maintain market share in the era of the internet and general lack of trust in anything printed or broadcast, the news industry had broken in two. One side gave nothing but conservative news and the other had a more biased slant to the left. And the politicians pretty much only talked with the news outlets that supported their viewpoint. And it was this that gave the country Rex Schiller; that and a slim electoral victory of 2 votes. As it has been for years, the two coasts voted one way and the rest of the country the other. The difference was Rex was from of all places North Dakota. And they voted for their hometown guy.

Only after he was elected was it discovered he held all religions in complete and utter disdain. Praying to anyone or thing was “A waste of time and proof of delusional thinking.” He was a basic hedonist. It turned out, he liked them young, which I can’t say I blame him, but I have a limit. He didn’t. Boys or girls, it didn’t matter to him the younger the better. In that vein, he had his party change the law to get rid of the age of consent. The change had taken his party’s majority in both houses of the congress with much condemnation from the minority. Though, I’d bet many of the minority took advantage of the change.

I remember I was sitting on the dock watching the crazy rednecks flying down the lake in the pitch black in bass boats that cost more than their homes. I’d the week off from college and had been spending the day sitting on the dock or in the water drinking beer. The girls in bikinis on the wake and ski boats passed by waving, a couple more drunk ones flashed their tits. There was one of the more smashed girls, who dropped her bottoms for a full view of a small patch of fur at forty miles an hour and thirty yards. I’d the dock radio on listening to some old Jesus Jones when the news broke in.

The newscaster informed the listening audience, the Vatican and the Wailing Wall had been destroyed by two nuclear blasts each. The report didn’t know the number of killed or the full extent of the damage the four bombs blasts had inflicted. What was known was the people of Iraq, Iran, and Saudi Arabia were celebrating the devastation of the two religions. I couldn’t believe my ears that the two major religions had been attacked by a third. I stayed up all night listening and looking at the lake wondering what it would all mean.

The next few days were a blur with all the newscast and beer drinking. The general attitude among the lake goers changed becoming somewhat nihilistic and hedonistic. More girls than ever were flashing their tits and cunts as they went by. Plus, I saw multiple girls doing two guys or two girls at once or vise versa while floating down the lake. The gratuitous sex on the water and other docks didn’t extend to the one I was camped out on.

I listened to the radio on the way back to school. The president put on an act of being concerned for Catholics and Jews. This even after all he had said in the past “all religions were full of fools.” During a newscast in the middle of the day, President Schiller called for the Saudi’s to disavow and extradite the imam that took credit. He said his organization had set off the explosives. The Saudi’s did neither and the president acted upset but did nothing for the next two days.

President Schiller’s inaction ended when three more nukes went off in the US. The first one in his hometown did little to change the inept response to the actions. Only when two more left parts of his place of religious worship, Hollywood, decimated did he get upset. That night he went on TV and told the nation and the world the FBI and CIA had developed a list of every radical imam. And if everyone on a list weren’t delivered to the US military, within 2 weeks there would be consequences. Sternly he added, “If these war criminals aren’t in our custody in the allotted time. The people and families that follow or interact these so-called religious leaders will be praying to a pile of radioactive rubble. If they can even find a place to pray. Plus I am asking Congress to reinstate the draft.”

The next day the proposal flew through the house and senate. The bill included a provision the reporters kept to themselves. All congressional people and their staffs’ families would be exempted. Additionally, top governmental agency employees and the president’s large donors were stricken from the Selective Service registry. And within the week, the first ping pong ball was dropping on national TV. And it wasn’t the type of lottery where you won millions of dollars if you bought a ticket. I didn’t have the type of luck that would let me live on the beach as a not working millionaire. No, I had the luck that had my birthday being the first one out of the chute, and I hadn’t even bought a ticket.

I’d hoped the President’s threat was just that, a threat. At the end of the week, I had my answer. On Friday, the President had the Air Force start dropping tactical nuclear bombs. The first one dropped at daybreak. Four more times that day; at noon, 3 in the afternoon, sunset, and midnight the bomb doors on the B1’s opened, and their payload was released. He hadn’t lied. The place and all the people on their hajj were dust and radioactive rubble. And in the spirit of Ramadan, for thirty days, the largest mosque still standing was leveled in the same manner, five bombing runs at the call to prayer.

While it was mainly reported President Schiller was taking out radicalized mosques and the teachers of hate America. There was one and only one report that contradicted that. He was caught on an open microphone saying, “One more religion of fools will be wiped out when I am done. They’re as ignorant as the Christians and Jews. I wish there was a way to drag the Hindus in too. That way I could take them all out. Stupid jackasses.” The statement only got one airing and what news I saw always branded anyone that brought it up as un-American.

It didn’t take long before the whole of the Middle East, southern Asia, and the top half of Africa was awash in Muslim fundamentalist. Women that hadn’t been required to wear burkas were now beaten in the streets when more than their eyes were shown. I thought it crazy. The men of the region were pissed at the US and its allies. Yet, they were taking it out on their women. I wasn’t surprised when the retaliation began all over the US and Europe. Rather rapidly the world was drawn into a world war not based on nations but based on religion. It was to the point even the Russians allied with the USA after hundreds of internal attacks.

As I said, my number was the first one up. After the initial thirty days of bombings, the busses showed up at the county courthouse to take away the first group of draftees. I showed up on time, despite the fact I got knee crawling drunk the night before with some buddies. Hell, I was still drunk when I got to the courthouse. I think half of the other two hundred of my fellow recruits were in the same condition. Most of the draftees in my condition were guys. But a few of the hungover or still tipsy were girls. A couple of them were hot despite their night of drinking.

I took notice of a cute little redhead with a nice set of tits. She was wobbly on a gorgeous set of legs accentuating a sweet round ass. Her eyes were a bit bloodshot but were still a pretty shade of green. She had a button nose that added to her overall pixie cute look. Her curly red hair framed her high cheek-boned face perfectly despite her lack of attention to how it looked on this morning. She was in a short denim mini skirt and blouse and looked like she hadn’t made it home from the night before to change. The mini-skirt showed off a pair of runway caliber legs that were hard to miss. She said to herself what I was thinking, “What in the hell are they thinking? I’m five foot two and weigh a hundred pounds soaking wet. How in the hell am I going to carry a fifty-pound backpack and a rifle?”

I leaned over and whimsically answered her rhetorical question, “Steroids and growth hormones. I heard they give smaller women like you a shot that in two days turns you into an amazon.”

She laughed and mused, “Great. Then I’ll have to buy all new shoes and bras. Amazon women always have big tits you know. And I was thinking the ones I have now are too big.” She rubbed her hands along the sides of the tits like a stripper on stage.

Without thinking, I said, “I think they look damn good, like the rest of you.” She looked at me with a bit of apprehension until I added, “Oh shit, I said that out loud didn’t I?”

She smiled asking, “Does your mouth always say what your head is thinking?”

“Usually, and it gets me into a lot of trouble. But so far it hasn’t written any checks I couldn’t cash.” I said my eyes lingering on her chest a bit longer than they should have. Trying to hide it I said, “Oh hi, I’m Rusty Johnson. Do you have a name?”

In a smart ass tone from her pouty lips came, “They don’t, but the rest of me does. I’m Megan Milliken, nice to meet you.” She put out her hand, and looked down at her breast continuing, “And I guess when I get those huge Amazon woman tit’s, they’ll get names too.”

“Oh definitely,” I said shaking her small soft hand once it was in mine. “Then you can introduce me to them properly.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Being introduced to them properly.” She said pulling out her shirt a little so she could look down it. Unfortunately, she hadn’t done it in such a manner I could see what she was looking at.

I pulled my shorts and underwear out a little. So I could see my cock and she could see just a wisp of pubic hair if she looked. I said down to my dick, “Yep. You’re still there.” Looking back at her I said, “I just checked, and I am still a male, so I guess that means I still like breasts. So yeah I’d like it.”

“What is it about guys and tits? I mean why do Amazon women always have huge tits in the movies. Why can’t they be flat as a pancake?” She asked with her face close enough I could smell the alcohol on her breath.

“Survival,” I said joking.

“Survival? What the fuck? How do huge tits make survival more likely?” her not completely sober mind obviously needed further explanation.

“Well nourishment of course. Going through a jungle you never know when you won’t have any food. And if you have a big-breasted Amazon there, you can suck a tit and call it lunch.” I said just to see her reaction.

“You know it doesn’t work like that.” She flipped her curly red locks over her shoulder. “You are a weird guy, Rusty Johnson. I’m amazed I haven’t run into you before.” She paused a minute, then started snickering then she laughed saying, “Funny.”

“What?” I asked though I was pretty sure what it was. And I was right.

“Rusty Johnson...” she giggled. “Red dick. Your parents named you ‘Red Dick’?”

“Yeah...” I rolled my eyes. I’d heard this so many times. “If they had to name me again today. I’m sure they’d name me Massive, but as a baby, Ruston seemed more appropriate, family name and all. Kids in kindergarten started calling me Rusty and it just stuck. So yes, now I’m ‘Red Dick’.” It was my turn to snicker.

“What the hell are you laughing about?” she asked with just a hint of a slur.

“Well, Ms. Megan Milliken or should I say Ms. M&M. I am betting you’d melt in my mouth and in my hands,” I said, not even trying to hide my looking her up and down.

“Keep dreaming drunk boy,” She said so I couldn’t tell if she was playing or pissed. “Your mouth ain’t getting close to anything that would make me melt.”

I was about to tell her she hadn’t ruled out my hands when a guy that looked like a drill instructor shouted over all of us. He obviously wasn’t concerned with anyone getting offended. “Ok snowflakes, you know why you are here. It’s because some camel jockeys over in some god-forsaken shit hole of a sandbox got tired of fucking their goats. Then they thought they would fuck with the USA. Now because of these ball lickers, you get to go to that hell hole and skull fuck them. Now kiss whatever piece of ass that brought you here and get on the bus of your branch.”

“Shit, I guess that was welcome to the military,” I said out of the corner of my mouth toward Megan.

“Yeah and we hope you have a pleasant stay.” She joked a bit too loud for our proximity to the boisterous military man.

“You two.” He said to us. “What are your names?”

I turned to Megan, “Ladies first.”

“I’m Megan Milliken.” She said meekly, looking like she wanted to be anywhere but where she was.

I quickly jumped in with the intention of taking the attention away from her, “I’m Rusty Johnson.”

“You trying to be funny with me boy?” The man spit out inches from my face; droplets of spittle hitting me.

“No sir that’d be stupid, now wouldn’t it,” I answered looking him in the eye.

“Yes!” he told me. He scanned the clipboard in his hand, “And you, Ruston, are pretty fucking stupid.”

“Yes sir, but I go by Rusty,” I explained.

“Like I give a shit, boy. You and sweet cheeks enjoy your ride to the base because once you are there, that red dick of yours belongs to the US Army.”

“Fucking great!” is what ran through my head. But even tipsy, I knew better than to say it. I followed Megan onto the school bus silently. Most people must’ve remembered from their grade school days, the back of the big yellow busses bounced around more than the front. Being hungover and bouncing for hours was a bad combination, which left the back seat open.

Megan slid into the last row seat. When I tried sliding in next to her she said, “Stalker much ... I don’t remember saying you could sit here.” She dropped her big backpack on the seat next to her.

“Oh, so it’s middle school all over again. “ I said turning to sit in the seat in front of her, tossing my backpack in before me. “But I’m pretty sure that maniac out there, won’t care if you don’t want the fat smelly guy getting on the bus right now sits next to you. When he decides sitting next to a pretty girl for the next twelve hours is what he wants. And this bus is going to have every seat filled, based on the number of people I saw out there and the number of busses.”

Sliding into my chosen seat she grabbed my shirt. “Fine. Get your ass back here.” When I didn’t change my trajectory into the seat she said. “Ok ... Ok Please sit with me.”

“I’d love to,” I rapidly slid out of the vinyl seat to slip into the one behind it. She moved her pack making room for me. The skin of her outer thigh was hot on mine when I bumped into her. I sat close crowding her further over in the seat. “You made the right choice,” I informed her when a hint of stench from the fat guy hit my nose. Despite him being five rows up.

“Yeah, I guess you aren’t too hideous to look at.” She commented, before leaning over putting her nose half an inch from my neck. Her sniff sounded like a whirlwind in my ear, she added, “Plus you don’t smell that bad.”

“Thanks, nice to know. I guess it was a good thing my momma taught me to wash behind my ears.” It was my turn to invade her personal space and say quietly. “How about you? Your momma teach you to wash behind your ears? “ I did as she’d done and drew in buckets of air that passed over her lightly tanned skin. She smelled exquisite. I just had to taste, this girl I had met not ten minutes earlier. Throwing caution to the wind, I ran the tip of my tongue at the edge of the hair surrounding the back of her ear.

She jumped and shivered at the touch of my tongue. She also punched my arm, not really hard enough for its intention to be to hurt me. More, I gathered as a warning. “Damn you’re a perv and one with a lot of nerve.” I jumped sideways running into our stacked packs at the end of the bench, trying to avoid any more punches.

“And your momma did a good job. Cause you taste as good as you smell.” I said pouring on as much southern charm as I could. Though, I knew she’d read right through it. In the part of the world, we were from, a hot chick like her would have every swinging dick, that met her laying on the southern charm. I imagined she’d be immune, but it was also common courtesy and expected. A southern gentleman should at least try.

This southern tradition or maybe just horny guys trying to get laid was on full display when the last draftee climbed on the bus. She was a tall bleach blonde. She was beyond smoking hot, she was a four-alarm fire. She had long graceful legs starting at a pair of denim Daisy Duke’s ending in a pair of fuck-me pumps. With her stunning blue eyes, perfectly rounded ‘C’ cup breast above a petite waist, she was easily the best looking woman I’d ever seen in person. As we’d say down south, ‘She looks so good I’d suck her daddy’s dick.’ Though when I thought about it I don’t know where that saying came from. And it really didn’t make a lot of sense, but being a southerner; it didn’t have to.