Summary:After an accidental plague nearly wipes out all women on Earth, governments keep the remaining few females in safe seclusion and implement a mandatory breeder program. But it’s still not enough to keep the human race alive or prevent all-out war. Desperate times call for desperate measures. So scientists create a radical solution that transforms men into women — and use a chemical concoction of mind control drugs, libido-enhancing hormones, and genetic engineering to turn them into super breeders. But when not enough men volunteer for the program, the government must take additional steps to find the breeders they need — whether the participants are willing or not.
We never thought the world would end this way. It wasn’t a nuclear strike. Nor an alien invasion or zombie apocalypse. We were more or less prepared for all those things. This… we never saw coming.
They said it started in a lab, accidentally. They were researching a cure for breast cancer. They’d developed some kind of virus designed to seek out, target, and eliminate those cancer cells. And at first, it worked. It worked really, really well.
Breast cancer rates dropped 50% worldwide. Then, for several years, there were absolutely no new cases of breast cancer reported. Zero. Complete elimination. The world celebrated. Women everywhere were finally free from worry from this terrible disease.
But then… something happened. Something changed. The virus mutated somehow. And it started doing more than eliminating breast cancer cells. It started targeting all cells with the XX chromosome. Women everywhere, literally around the world, began mysteriously dying. Africa, Europe, Asia, North America, South America, Australia… no place was safe. Teenagers, adults, the elderly, and little children… no female, anywhere, was safe. At first, it was just a few, here and there, seemingly unrelated. But more soon followed. Liver failure. Heart failure. Immune system failure. Random parts of their bodies simply stopped working, and no one knew why. At first, they didn’t even know all these random deaths were related. All we knew was more and more women – a number rapidly growing and exponentially accelerating – started dying in the workplace, at home, while shopping, while driving, while hiking, while doing anything, anywhere, often without warning.
Doctors were baffled. The world fell into panic. Countries started closing borders. Men and women were afraid to leave their homes. But that didn’t stop the plague. It didn’t stop the spread. We were already too late. Whether they knew it or not, nearly every woman was already infected.
Over the next several years, the death count grew and grew. Twenty five percent. Forty percent. Then eighty percent of women… gone.
After a worldwide effort and trillions of dollars of research, we finally found a cure. We managed to stop the plague. The remaining women were rushed to inoculation. We got to as many as we could, as fast as we could. In the end, less than 10% of women were left in the world.
We saved them.
But we were too late.
Human society had already begun to collapse.
Those surviving 10% were not enough to save the human race. Some were already past child-bearing years. Others, still too young yet. Only a small handful, less than 5% of what once was, were healthy enough and strong enough to begin reproducing.
For the sake of saving the human race, women lost all rights. We were in a global state of emergency. Every female was registered in a global database, regularly and carefully monitored by doctors—tested for health, fertility, and viability. Every woman capable of bearing children became a breeder. She had no choice. It was her public duty, as a female, to rapidly produce as many babies with as many different fathers as fast and safely as humanly possible.
But we knew that wouldn’t be enough.
Men began competing with each other for access to these few, precious women. Violence skyrocketed. Nations went to war. The women were kept sequestered away in safety. They had become the most valuable asset on the planet. But keeping them all grouped together in “safe” locations made those sites high target, high risk areas. Some women were stolen away. Some, regrettably, died in the cross-fire. Governments realized that real wealth now was determined by how many viable females they had control over. But it became too dangerous to keep too many in one place, so for their own safety and the nation’s future, no more than 3 girls were kept in any one secure facility. And no single man knew the location of any more than three separate facilities.
Healthy women were allowed to be pregnant with a new baby only once a year. Doctors began researching ways to speed up that pregnancy. They also began testing for ways to create human life outside a womb too, in artificial environments. But we still needed female eggs. And so far, no artificial methods proved viable or sustainable. We couldn’t circumvent nature. Human life was designed to grow inside a woman’s womb. But with a chemical concoction of hormones, special stimulants, and a little DNA editing, scientists were able to accelerate a normal pregnancy period from nine months down to six. And along the way, they also stumbled upon an unexpected discovery.
They could use that DNA editing in a different way too. They could use those special stimulants and a slightly different, customized mixed of various hormones for something else, too.
The first test subject was a twelve year old boy.
The injected him with special hormones and chemicals. Genetically modified all his cells. Put him through a long and carefully monitored process. And then… just six months later, they had completely transformed him into a girl.
Doctors tested the transformee, studying the new girl thoroughly. She appeared to be perfect. Completely female, from head to toe, as if she’d be born as one. All the right parts were there, exactly where they should be. And most important of all, she had a womb. Unfortunately, the process wasn’t perfect. Her new eggs weren’t viable. And she never had a monthly period. She was sterile. But scientists were undeterred. This incredible transformation only encouraged and inspired them, and within a few years, after many, many more test subjects—they finally achieved their goal.
They had perfected the process.
They could take any man, at any age, and in a matter of months completely turn him into a viable, healthy, engineered-to-be-horny totally female breeder.
At first, the randomly selected men didn’t even know why the government had called them in or what all the “tests” were for. Not until it was already too late. Eventually, over the years, word got out. They called it “The Process.” Men were chosen through a mandatory lottery. Somehow, the politicians and scientists and military leaders never seemed to get picked. But the rest of the population… any one of them were called, at any time.
Some volunteered willingly. But we had lost far too many women. And trying to keep those few women constantly pregnant became too stressful and draining on the breeders. It started taxing their health, breeding constantly without rest. And doctors began detecting genetic abnormalities in some of the offspring. So the laws were changed.
Depending on a woman’s age and health, she could safely produce a new child once every ten months – six months pregnant, four months rest – and her male partners would always be chosen for her.
The smartest. The strongest. The richest. They were the ones who got to contribute their male seed toward the next generation. Everyone else was fair game for the lottery – for The Process. In fact, maybe it was just a crazy conspiracy theory, but it seemed that after certain men created successful pregnancies that resulted in healthy babies… some of those men mysteriously and suddenly “won” the next lottery drawing.
They weren’t notified by phone or mail either. These unsuspecting men would be going about their normal lives – going to work, getting groceries, taking a peaceful walk one sunny afternoon – when suddenly a black van sped up behind them, several men would jump out and kidnap him, throwing him into the back, before rapidly speeding away, never to be seen – in male form – again.
The lottery winner was immediately drugged inside the van to become submissive and compliant, so he wouldn’t put up too much of a struggle. He was bound. Captured. And taken to a secret facility where they could begin The Process on him. And he was kept in a small cage, remaining tied and bound up, like an animal, until The Process was complete.
Until he was fully a woman.
A woman pumped full of special chemicals and hormones designed to make her forever insatiably horny too. These female converts, these new breeders, had an important job to do. The government couldn’t afford to have any of them be resistant or reluctant. By order of no less than the President himself, every man who went through The Process would experience more than just a sex change. The Process included DNA editing on their minds too. It reduced their IQ slightly. And it made all of them extremely submissive, compliant, passive, and highly suggestible. It lowered their inhibitions and self-control. And gave them a over-stimulated libido that ensured they felt irresistibly horny at all times. They were made for one purpose and one purpose only: breeding. And they were changed, by design, to desire and be nothing more than that, once The Process was complete.
It was for the survival of the human race, our leaders told us. A necessary duty many men would be called to serve for their country and their planet. The Process was the only thing that allowed a temporary cease-fire and halt to the escalating international world wars. In time, there would be more women again. In time, humanity would be saved.
We just had to wait. Go about our lives and rebuild society. Live a normal life as much as possible. And trust. Trust that our governments and world leaders were going to save humanity – and some of us, whether we wanted it or not – would be called randomly to fulfill the highest purpose of all.
It still wasn’t safe for women. They still had to be kept away in secret. Only their Keepers – the doctors watching over them, and the military guards sworn to protect them – knew their locations or names. Many men didn’t trust our leaders, feared The Process still wouldn’t be enough to save the world, or they simply wanted to gain massive wealth, power, and control by possessing as many women of their own for themselves. It still wasn’t a safe world for women. They had to be kept secret. Kept in carefully monitored seclusion. Away from the outside world. They had to be kept safe.
We only hoped the government-sponsored breeder program, and this new Process, would be enough to keep human society from collapsing into all-out war and inevitable global self-extinction.
Men who volunteered for military service, or provided scientific expertise towards accelerating pregnancy or improving The Process were given “credits” by the government. With enough credits, they had a chance at impregnating one of these breeders themselves. It wasn’t a guarantee. But it gave them an advantage over everyone else fighting for the same opportunity. It also kept them out of the lottery drawing.
The rest of the male population had limited options. Many resigned to never having a girlfriend or a child of their own ever again. Some volunteered for The Process: some out of charity for their fellow men; some because they were desperately poor and knew all their needs would be met as a breeder; others felt that life as a female breeder was better than life as a lonely man without ever having any sex at all.
Once in a while, somehow, a woman would be kidnapped or voluntarily escape from a facility. It was so rare it made international news. Apparently some of the women – usually the ones initially born female, who survived the plague – didn’t want a life of breeding. They tried hiding in homes, caves, abandoned buildings, or even out in the wild… But the government had eyes and ears everywhere. And sooner or later, every woman was eventually found and returned to a facility for more breeding.
Many men became the caretakers for all the new babies that began being produced en masse. Female children were given the best care, medical treatment, and put in the best homes. Male babies got whatever was left. They were taken care of too, of course. The world needed new young men in the future too. But everyone knew one man could get several women pregnant at once. They were simply a lower priority. Second class citizens. The world needed as many women as possible. Period. Females everywhere were the most valued, most treasured, most important people on Earth.
As for me? I was one of the many men who felt resigned to a mediocre, meaningless life without women. I knew I wasn’t smart enough, strong enough, or rich enough to get myself on whatever list I needed to be on to participate in the breeding program. I knew I’d never have access to, or even see, another woman in real life. And somehow I had made it to my eighteenth birthday without being drafted in the lottery. Very few people won the lottery past that age. Most were teenagers, usually thirteen through sixteen. Just old enough to be able to start having children – and be able to continue serving their country and world as a healthy breeder for many, many years to come. Once in a while you heard a story about someone in their late teens, or even early twenties, winning the lottery. But it almost never happened. I was past the age of being selected for The Process.
My future as a man was safe. I somehow luckily dodged that draft and knew I’d never serve in that capacity, thankfully. I, for one, had absolutely no desire to ever be a woman. The thought of being penetrated by countless men, over and over again, until I was pregnant… only to get a short break, before starting all over. Not to mention, by now, everyone knew that Processed men were genetically dumbed down, biologically changed to become submissive, complaint, and suggestible. And horny all the time. Built for sex and breeding. Nothing else. No thanks. I was glad I never got picked in the lottery.
One of my friends got chosen, a few years back. He was always so scared it’d happen to him too. One day we were walking home from school together. One of those black vans came up, seemingly out of nowhere. It all happened so fast. At first I didn’t know which one of us they were after. They grabbed him, took him away. I saw the unmarked van speed into the distance. On one hand, I felt sorry for my friend. But at the same time, honestly, I was relieved it wasn’t me who’d be chosen.
I never saw him again. I assume he’s locked away in a facility somewhere, probably pregnant with child number three or four by now. He—or, well, she—was doing her civic duty. Serving the world, the human race. Helping to keep the peace. Doing her part to ensure the human race would survive.
As a man, my friend feared this fate. But he, or she, was serving a higher purpose now.
As for me, I just got accepted into college. I was going to study bio sciences. Maybe work in a lab one day, helping to research improved pregnancy rates or something. Maybe improve The Process somehow. All the high-paying careers were related to those fields. The best jobs were in either military or science careers. And I was no fighter. I hated combat. And twice there were shootings at my school, because there was a rumor a girl was in hiding, disguised as a boy, among us. We were raided. But no girl was ever found. Not that I knew of. Although one of my classmates was kind of effeminate. Last I heard, though, he got taken away for The Process too.
I just wanted to lay low and stay out of trouble. I wanted to stay away from combat, and maybe one day be a scientist or something and hopefully work on some project that helped the human race in some way.
I knew I’d never having a girlfriend. Like just about every other straight guy my age, we were all virgins. I often watched a lot of pornography from the earlier days, before the plague hit. I wondered what it’d be like to actually have sex. But I also knew it’d never happen. I’d never have a girlfriend. Never get married. Never have a family of my own. I was too much of a coward to commit suicide—although, some men did. Of course, the most popular form of suicide was to try to break into one of the facilities where they allegedly kept a couple girls. Unauthorized trespassers were typically shot on sight. But maybe for some, seeing a woman in real life just once was worth it. They were goddesses. Secluded beauties. I was told, by a man I met once who’d been chosen to help impregnate someone, that seeing a woman in life life was magical. Like spotting a unicorn or encountering a fairy or meeting an angel. They were the most beautiful, most sacred, most special, most magical creatures on Earth. He felt truly lucky just seeing and meeting one in person. He admitted to being so nervous, so scared, so uncertain and insecure in what he was doing, when it came time to breed her. But she made him feel comfortable. Helped him let go and enjoy his body with her – an experience, he said, was beyond description.
I tried not to think about it. Kept myself entertained with old movies with women in it. Masturbating, alone in my room every night, to porn of a previous generation. Of a world ignorantly blissful of what was about to happen. And the rest of the time… life was just full of regular guy stuff. Sports. Video games. Hiking. Casual drives wandering the abandoned countryside, looking at the old houses and buildings were people once lived, before the plague, before all the wars took so many lives. I studied hard in school. Got good grades. One day I’d be a scientist. Doing my part. And then, if I was lucky, I’d grow old and die peacefully in my sleep… dreaming of a world where one day, the female population had been fully restored, and the world was in balance and at peace again.
That was my life to be.
Nothing special. But all someone like me could hope for.
But at least I’d have my mind. And my true body. And my freedom. Part of me felt lonely, a natural instinct installed by nature to seek a mate. Desiring the companionship, the touch, the love of a woman. But I had lots of guy friends. Many experimented with homosexuality. But I couldn’t. Not me. It was just too much. The thought of someone else being inside you. I wasn’t built that way. No judgment on them. I understood their need. They were just looking for love, for connection, for any kind of sexual experience anywhere they could find it. Many straight men experimented, and never went back. Some became gay full-time, whether they were born that way or not. Homosexuality became a normal part of society. Many men took on traditionally feminine roles, jobs, and even behaviors. Others, on the other hand, became hyper masculine and macho, keeping to be the alpha male in a world filled with men. Some weren’t sure which end of the spectrum they belonged. And some, when really lonely or horny, with a close friend… couldn’t resist exploring and pleasuring each other. Taking turns being the submissive or dominant one with each other.
I actually came close to doing it with my best friend, late one drunken night. But I just couldn’t go through with it. The male body repulsed me too much, sexually-speaking. I just couldn’t make myself do it. Even though my friend really wanted it.
If not with him, I knew I couldn’t bring myself to do it with anyone else. Which meant I’d truly be a virgin, forever.
Maybe one day, somehow, I’d get lucky and get to participate in the breeder program. Maybe once there were a lot more women around, and they started letting in more “regular” guys like me.
Hmm. Although on the other hand, odds were that if I did get to mate with someone, it’d probably be a woman who’d gone through The Process.
Technically—well, actually, biologically—she’d be a real woman now. But I’d know she used to be a man, once upon a time. And even thought, that image in my mind, made me soft. I couldn’t stay hard, picturing myself with a Processed woman. Knowing she once had a penis. She once was a dude. Like me.
Being a virgin wasn’t going to kill me. Sure, I felt like I was missing out. But it wasn’t the end of the world. I was just glad the world wasn’t ending.
So I resigned to my sexless, ordinary life. Trying to live as normal as possible in a world full of men. After a while, it became normal to only see men around. To only talk to men, about men, about male stuff. Once in a while, we’d see a news report about a woman who’d just had her sixteenth healthy baby. They called her a “Sweet Sixteen” and we all honored her as a celebrity breeder. But other than that, no one really talked about or thought about women too much anymore, in day to day life.
Life went on. I had graduated high school earlier this year and was looking forward to a summer of video games, surfing at the beach, and barbeque parties with friends. I went to the mall to buy myself a new game that’d just been released. Something to enjoy the summer with before going off to college to begin my bio science degree.
I walked towards the mall entrance doors. Suddenly, in the distance, I could hear tires squealing.
I knew that sound. It was the same sound I heard right before they took my friend away for Processing.
The screeching tires got louder. I could hear the engine roaring, getting closer.
I turned around. I saw a black van heading my way.
There were several teenagers nearby. It was the mall on a Saturday, after all. One of these poor guys just won the lottery and didn’t even know it. He was about to be taken in, fully Processed, and begin a new life as a horny submissive female breeder.
I wondered who it was.
One guy had a punk rocker look. A couple others were kind of geeky. One guy was sitting on the bench, waiting for the bus. Someone came out of the mall. He couldn’t have been older than 13 or 14. It had to be him. He was going to be the next breeder.
I looked at him and casually began to wave goodbye. He gave me a strange look. The poor guy. Completely unaware they were here for him.
Suddenly I felt strong masculine hands grab both my arms. Instantly, more hands grabbed my ankles and picked me up off the ground.
Four men. All dressed in black paramilitary uniforms. Last thing I saw was that thirteen year old at the mall entrance, staring back at me. Our eyes locked, and even though no words were exchanged, we spoke to one another. My eyes, showing fear, terror, confusion. His eyes, a combination of both compassion and relief. I knew that look in his eyes. It was the same look in my eyes when my best friend was taken for Processing that fateful day.
No one tried to save me.
I felt myself thrown into the back of the van, hitting the floor hard. The uniformed men immediately followed in behind me, slamming the doors shut. I heard it lock. The tires screeched again. I felt us speed away.
“Wait, oh my God, hold on, stop, there’s been a mistake!” I urged. “I’m Brian Kissinger, I just graduated high school!”
One man grabbed both my wrists and tied them behind my back before I even knew what was happening.
“We know,” said one of the men.
“But I’m already eighteen!” I exclaimed.
I tried kicking and squirming away, but someone else instantly bound my feet together.
One of the men said, “Sorry kid. We’re running low on the younger fellows. Had to expand the lottery. You’re next.”
“What?! No, that’s impossible!” I shouted.
“Shut him up,” said another.
“You can’t! You have to let me go! I’m already enrolled in—” My mouth was suddenly bound and gagged. I tried to speak. It came out all muffled and silenced. “Mfph hmpf gghhrrr!!!”
“Relax, kid,” said one. “Struggling only makes it harder.”
He merely needed to glance and nod his head to one of the others. Suddenly I felt a prick in the side of my neck… I suddenly felt woozy. Light-headed. The fight in me drained like water through a sift. My body felt relaxed. Compliant. Submissive. And a moment later, everything got fuzzy and dark.
I just couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer…
“Go to sleep, kid.”
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So scientists create a radical solution that transforms men into women — and use a chemical concoction of mind control drugs, libido-enhancing hormones, and genetic engineering to turn them into super breeders.
But when not enough men volunteer for the program, the government must take additional steps to find the breeders they need — whether the participants are willing or not.
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