Classy Conversions
Copyright© 2011 by irish Writer
Prologue
Science Fiction Sex Story: Prologue - How would people cope with regulated human cannibalism? What kind of society would we have if 90% of the births were Women, and one percent per year were slated for the table. Or as pet food? Like any other breaucracy? This story is not for the strokes, nor for gore. But it does change the way you look at a steak.
Caution: This Science Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Mult Consensual Reluctant BiSexual Science Fiction Snuff Swinging Group Sex Violence Cannibalism
The windows had been boarded up for several years. The “For Sale” sign nailed to the front of the property was faded, and the contact number had been partially erased. It had taken her a bit of research to find the current caretakers.
“I don’t mind telling you we don’t get many calls about this place. The other two were razed and built over after the trials, but this one was left alone, pretty much. I don’t know what you could do with it for a business, unless you want a warehouse. You know from the disclosure statement what this place was?” the realtor asked.
“Yes. I do. I am a bit of a historian and our group was thinking of this as a museum of sorts,” the woman replied.
“Sort of like those slavery museums in the South?” he replied. “I don’t imagine the city administration would care too much for that. I would keep that idea under my lid while you were working on it. Mayor Hansen is not really happy with that piece of history.”
“What are the current obligations against the property?” the woman asked.
“City will sell it for back taxes plus an indemnity bond to ensure that it is either brought up to code or razed to the ground. We don’t want it to turn into a drug den. We have enough of those.”
“What about obligations to the original owners?”
“Well, this one was never reclaimed after the trials. Owners were brought up on charges against humanity, and I think that the fine was pretty heavy. But no one was convicted. I think they did prison time waiting trial, and I think the husband died in prison. The woman owner is in a rest home somewhere down south. Both of their kids disappeared after the trials. There isn’t anyone left who really cares about this place.”
“Can I get inside?”
“Sure. Here are the access keys. If you don’t mind, I have another appointment. These are twenty-four hour access cards, and the security system is still active. The power is on the city grid, and the cost of supply for the last two months is part of the sale price. Just close the door when you leave.”
“Thank you.”