I Day Saving Inseminator Bobby

The following is, first and foremost, a romantic story dedicated to those who are searching, and to those who have found.

It may take a few dark turns, and more sensitive readers are advised to check story tags and proceed at their own discretion.

This work also doesn't linger on any particular fetish, and focuses on telling a story: "What happens when 500 naked males invade a female-only city?"

If you are interested, please enjoy!

The Prelude

"INSEMINATORS, ASSEMBLE!"

A diverse crowd of a few hundred men, all naked save for shoes and occasional accessories, did their best effort to form several rows.

"CIVILIZATION IS IN DECLINE! HUMANITY IS DYING OUT!"

A gray-bearded man in military uniform and general coat walked along the first line as he spoke.

"And to preserve humankind we need the best! UNFORTUNATELY, ALL WE HAVE IS YOUR SORRY ASSES!"

Draped in black uniforms, heavily armed commissioners were breathing down our necks.

"TODAY! FOR THE FIRST TIME IN YOUR LIVES! YOU'LL DO SOMETHING USEFUL! YOU WILL INVADE! THE FEMALE ONLY! SAFE SPACE CITY!"

It was still too early in the morning, and the rising sun didn't help to warm up against the breezes of a cold wind.

"NOW, THE FEMALES! Oh, what a fascinating creature they are... THEY THINK THEY NEED CAREERS! HOBBIES! CATS! NO! WHAT THEY REALLY NEED IS YOUR HARD COCKS DRIVEN BETWEEN THEIR LEGS, AND YOUR SEMEN IN THEIR WOMBS!"

I was surrounded by naked bodies on all sides, and my cock was still shrunken - like a tortoise, trying to hide its head in its shell...

"THAT'S RIGHT! YOU WILL DESCEND ON THEIR CITY, INSEMINATING ANY AND ALL FEMALES YOU MEET ON YOUR PATH!"

...except in this metaphor "the shell" was my pelvis. In case you didn't get it.

"Now... If they try to run - YOU WILL CATCH THEM! IF THEY TRY TO HIDE - YOU WILL DIG THEM OUT. AND IF THEY TRY TO RESIST? YOU! WILL! FORCE THEM!"

Couldn't they at least have us stripped after the speech?

"SURVIVAL OF MANKIND IS NON-NEGOTIABLE! Your potential deaths are inconsequential in the grand scheme of things! The... SIXTY-NINTH MOTOR-INVASIVE BRIGADE! IS! A! GO!"

The old guy jerked his forearm upward, slapping his bicep with the other hand in a traditional salute.

"FOR CIVILIZATION!" he shouted.

"For Civilisation!" yelled commissioners behind us.

"...for Civilization..." echoed through the rows, forearms rising together in a shared mix of enthusiasm and not wanting a do-over.

And the engines roared.

The Ride

This metal machine was a remnant from before - when men used to invade foreign nations, not females. It rode at the speed of a galloping zebra (maybe even a horse), and its metal shell was almost as thick as mine... Well, it was thick. Old benches at the sides, polished by generations of soldiers of the past, were covered by wooden planks, polished by naked butts of many inseminators.

One would think that our ride is safe. But in truth, those machines were around for a long time, their vulnerabilities were known, and the tools for their destruction have been perfected.

The same tools females have inherited during the Great Divorce. How the females fared was a mystery, but they must have been on a constant lookout due to savage tribes and transfiltrators, and while we grew lazy - they grew bitter.

Whatever is left of all of us...

When our high-ups realized the depth humankind has fallen, and the first invasions were organized it all seemed like a fun sport. From the comfort of our coaches, we watched footage of trained professionals chasing females around their communities, making bets, and cheering. But the losses were exorbitant, and soon enough the acceptance criteria were widened, before being dropped altogether in a near-total draft, where the only requirement is an age of "above 18".

And now that I was the one stuffed into an invasion vehicle, I've realized how terrifying it was. To know that any moment might be my last. Someone we wouldn't even see could turn us into a fireball with a press of a manicured finger. It was as scary as... No, I won't even draw analogies.

They are sending us on a one-way ride, not one of us will return.

I shouldn't have been the only one sharing such thoughts. Bobby, the fattest guy I knew, was nervously munching on chips all ride long, and mumbled constantly.

"We have nothing to fear, right?" he asked nervously, "Men are bigger and stronger than the females! They can't do anything once we reach their city! Right?"

His double chin shook as he spoke. He sure was bigger, but the only way he could overpower a female was probably by falling on her head. Which would be lethal, and hence prohibited by the Convention.

"Ze women. Zey rush." Mikhael, sitting by Bobby, finally got tired of yapping.

"You mean rash? As in..." Both Mikhael and Bobby could barely fit in their places, but the two complemented each other - Mikhael's broad shoulders were taking space at the top, while Bobby's fat belly filled the bottom area like jelly.

"Zey rush you. Two, four - even sex women rush you. Pin you to ze ground. Use your body. Do whatever zey want."

"Oh... no?"

"Zey drag you to their prizons. Never to return."

"On no."

"Zey force you to diet. To engage in zeir discussions."

"Oh no!"

"And zen zey make you zeir slave. Go shopping. Cook dinner. Attend boring parties. No beer. No grill. And you have to do zis... All. While. Smiling."

"Oh no!!!" by now Bobby was crying - tears rolling down his face, folds on his body shaking.

As terrifying as it sounded, Mikhael looked like he knew what he was talking about. This tall, blonde, and blue-eyed man with a broad chin was the pinnacle of human physique - you could use his body to study every muscle a man could train, so protruding they were. Mikhael was the only one who didn't wear some kind of sneakers, but rather sandals, with traditional to his kind knee-high socks. The more I looked at him, the more I wondered what he even did with our sorry lot. He seemed like the commando unit type!

"Aww, shit, man. You're scaring him! Quit scaring mah bro!" Tyrone, sitting to my right decided to cheer Bobby up, "We go in together man, get a few babes landing on our dicks, and pull out safe and sound 'fore it gets hot!"

The only way I could describe Tyrone is that he was almost as muscular as Mikhael, and his skin felt hot to touch whenever we occasionally brushed our shoulders.

"I'm just. Being. Honest," Mikhael wasn't one to back out easily. "Even if you outnumber zem. Females always have zeir - ka-shaaw!" with that he spread his palm, as if he was scratching invisible glass with his nails, and then pointed at a scar - right by his eye.

Seeing that Bobby yelped, and started crying again.

"Mike, you ain't no commando anymore," Tyrone must have known Mikhael, "This ain't yo' high-stakes mission, we be practically on a safari tour here!"

I glanced to the left, where John Smith - a rare example of a White American in here, and Yamada Taro - an even rarer representative of Japanese Asian, were engaged in their usual argument. One wore a cowboy hat, and a cowboy belt with two revolvers (loaded with blanks - lethal personal firearms were banned by the Convention). The other one wore a hachi... a traditional Japanese headband, and a katana (with a rubber blade - same reason). Now the cowboy one was arguing that his lasso would help score the most prey, while the ninja was adamant that his art of shibari is a way to truly win a woman's heart.

Oh, and if that's not obvious - it was John Smith who pretended to be a ninja, while Yamada Taro was a passionate cosplayer of American culture.

I glanced back, and when their argument with Mikhael died down, poked Tyrone to ask quietly: "You... Uhm, seem to have done this before?"

"You know it, man!" Tyrone demonstrated his white teeth in a friendly smile, "I got my Quota filled long ago, now I be on support mission!"

"Really?"

"Ye, man, this be my last ride 'fore retirement," he took his cap off, pulled a photo, and showed it to me, "Ain't she a beauty?"

I smiled and nodded looking at a photo of his heavily modified car - I couldn't make out a model, but to build one he'd have to take on a few dozen successful raids, which is good for our squad. Surely nothing can go wrong in a party with an ex-commando, a heavily armed commissioner, and someone so experienced as Tyrone by our side?

"Brothers, The Time Has Come!" commissioner, who kept quiet and watched the clock the whole ride pulled a sealed envelope from the inner pocket of his coat. Ripping it open he said: "Our Mission Parameters Are Available Now!"

From the envelope, he pulled out a map and pinned it to a dashboard. I looked closely, trying to remember the city plan - districts, buildings scheduled for precision bombardment, our approximate arrival area, as well as the proposed route - by the administrative sector and into residential areas. As I did, the commissioner pulled another sheet and started reading.

"Our Target - The City Of Winegrad! Population - Aged From Eighteen!"

Commissioner spoke as if he was giving a speech - loudly and expressively. Hearing him talk up close was tiresome.

"Watch Out For Persons Of Interest!" One by one photos appeared from the envelope and joined the map on a dashboard.

"Lieutenant Redfield of the Police Force!" a very determined, despite her young age, female in a red vest.

"General Davis of the Perimeter Defence!" an old female in a coat with gray hair and a stern look on her wrinkled face.

"The Administrator!" a blurred photo of a female figure sitting in the shadows, the only details you could make out - a velvet suit and a cigarette.

So it's true then. The females really have to maintain a full police force - in addition to military guarding their perimeter. I guess that's what you get when you can't sort things out through good ol' fashioned arm wrestle or a round of boxing.

Then again, it's unlikely we'll ever meet anyone important on our path - that's what commando units are for, not us.

"Remember! Apprehension And Transport Should Be Done Politely - Safely - Effectively! We Are Men, Not Savages!"

This vehicle already felt claustrophobic, and with commissioner shouting I couldn't disembark it soon enough.

"A Moment Of Silence! For Our Most Effeminate Agent Who Gave Up His Freedom Sabotaging Female Plan-B Stockpiles!"

Another photo of a rather hot female joined the others. No, wait, that's the agent! I bowed in solidarity, while the commissioner thumbed loudly through papers.

"Good News! The City Has Never Been Raided Before! Fortifications Absent, Police Force Is Limited! Great News! No Sightings Of Guarding Angels!"

Everyone exhaled. Members of Angelic Guard would be very, very bad news indeed, and it's encouraging to know that today we won't encounter any.

"How accurate is your report?" Mikhael seemed unimpressed, "Last time we went to 'No Angels' city. We lost five men. Before we even saw ze first of Angels."

"Well, it's not like they report to us," this must have been the first time I saw a commissioner talk normally, "But If We Stick Together - There Is Nothing For Us To Fear Except For Fear Itself!" Now he's back on his high horse already.

"Ja-ja. 'We' will stick together," no telling what Mikhael meant, as the machine pulled to stop, and with a loud metal creak dropped the hatch letting in the sunshine, and the gush of fresh wind.

Finally! We've made it to the female city!

Interlude: Eye In The Sky

The vehicles weren't what they used to be. A few got stuck in the mud, and another exploded.

The boys also weren't like before. Unfit, lazy, drunk... Back in his days - those were the men! And now it's just some sucker pups.

He observed with disgust how vehicles surrounded the city in a wide semi-circle, and how they spewed five hundred boys out (excluding commissioners) - into fences, walls, and abandoned barricades.

Females also weren't what they used to be. Where is their caution?

His eye caught and he zoomed in on a group of the most bizarre misfits crawling out of the old APC. Their commissioner disembarked last, as the commissioner should. Misfits stumbled towards the decorative fence, but then a chubby boy suddenly turned around, noticing that the commissioner wasn't following. There was no sound, but guessing the question through his gesturing wasn't hard.

And the commissioner's reply in that case is always the same: "Everyone Has A Role To Play - Be It Great Like Yours, Or A Small Like Mine."

The chubby boy shook his head in confusion and stepped back gesturing with fingers on both hands as if he was switching something around... before freezing in shock, looking down the barrel of a gun.

The stool creaked as he leaned closer to the monitors - it was always his favourite part. "Those Who Fail At Their Role Do Not Deserve The Bright Future Ahead," he mumbled quietly the words of a first and final warning while getting ready for the action. No way this fat pig will be able to react in time.

Zoomed at the maximum, he could see the fat face trembling with fear and confusion as the final seconds were ticking out... Darn it! A muscular man with a somewhat familiar face reached out and yanked Fatty away while saying something that got the whole group to stumble toward the fence again. They jumped at the sound he could not hear, looking at each other, then at the commissioner then - at other groups around them.

He zoomed out. Less than five hundred boys were now eager to climb barricades, break through windows, or scale fences - a feat very risky if you are a completely naked male. Darn it! He missed the splatter this time.

Just as you can't make an omelet without breaking a few eggs, you can't force hundreds of losers into probable danger without showing the absolute certainty of the alternative.

The phone rang, and he replied without even looking at who it was: "Hello, Darling, I believe your whole city is about to get, quite literally, fucked!"

The voice almost as low as his own from all the smoking replied: "You think so? I believe we might just surprise you yet!"

The two shared a laugh, before switching conversation towards the health, the weather, and their vacation plans.

The Outskirts

"Remember! We'll be watching!" Yamada mocked the commissioner's voice. "Commissioner Cuck! Chief Voyeur-In-Command!"

We all nod in agreement.

"Zey always do zat," remarked Mikhael.

"I-it could have been me! If I... If you..." Bobby was shaken, even more than all of us. Mikhael hugged him for comfort.

It wasn't long before we encountered our first females in their natural habitat. First, we heard voices. Tiptoeing carefully to glance around the corner I saw three females. How strange! In training materials females appeared almost naked, covered in oil, playing with their huge mammaries and, somehow, wearing bunny ears. Those females, however... Well, they looked a lot like us. Smaller, shorter - sure, their hair longer, and full body kilts (called "skirts") they wore were more colorful, but... They appeared normal! Maybe we need to wait until they start stripping and kissing breasts?

Females were engaged in some talk. Not knowing how they were called, I've decided to name them White, Brown, and Blue - by the respective color of their hair.

White said: "And so she looks at me and says: I see. Is that what you are saying?"

Brown: "No way!"

Blue: "Oh my god!"

That's the female language. No men can comprehend what they're talking about, without going insane first. And even then - too.

White: "But then I say: no, look, it's what - she - said, that's all I'm saying!" she raised her eyes and saw us peeping by the corner, "Betchel, Alice, run! Men!"

White sprinted away.

Brown (Alice, or Betchel?) frowned: "What men, Becky?" she turned to us and shrieked, "Betchel, it's men! Run!" running away.

Betchel - the strange girl with blue hair (those get to be painted, right?) turned to us.

"Oh no-o-o... It's the me-e-en..." she said drawing out the words, "Whatever will I do?"

She rose, took a few steps, then tripped over a completely flat road and fell with her ass pointed upwards.

"Whoops, I'm so-o clumsy, heh-heh!" she chuckled not even attempting to stand up and just wiggling her buttocks.

Is that girl challenged? What kind of offspring can she even produce?

John was the first one to react. "In the name of Civilization! I claim this booty!" he jumped towards her, ripping her skirt apart.

"Hey, that wasn't necessar- aak!"

The girl suddenly found herself tied, with lube pouring down her private areas. While John's improvised knot on her hands wasn't as artistic as in those "bondage art" photos, at least it did its job.

"Amateurs!" shouted Mikhael, "You let two of zem run away! Zey will alert others and zen... After zem, shnell!"

Embarrassed, we hurried forward, while Tyrone paused for encouragement: "John, bro, catch up once you be done here!"

"Hey, a bit more foreplay you pig!"

"Sorry! Sorry! Uhm, I'll catch up with you guys!"

The female was panting and moaning, despite her face rubbing on the...

"Hey, why do they have carpets on their streets?" I asked confused, trying to catch up to the rest of the group.

Nobody knew. Mikhael shook his shoulders, and Yamada said: "Females. Go figure!"

***

And this - was our first encounter with female citizens.

Excerpt from

Soldiers

Inseminators Guide on Regular Female Citizens.

Citizens - do not have any identifying traits, as they may come in all forms, shapes, and ages. May cooperate, run, hide, or resist - bare-handed or using handy objects.

May change their mind and tactics for no reason at all at any time.

Soldier, remember!

Engaging a female who was already engaged by other soldiers is a war crime! (List of signs to watch for in Apex 5)

Engaging a female after she calls "Red Light" three times in a row is a war crime!

At this point, I thought that I wouldn't be able to feel ashamed of my nudity ever again. We've spent half a day being naked among other guys - no embarrassment here. Walking naked in front of that female felt... strange. But for our mission, we must be bold and daring! We were told that going in cocks blazing was the only way to ensure we wouldn't get shy (as we quietly whispered "You won't fear losing your dignity when you have none left").

But, there was one exception I hadn't thought about before. Our group ran into a very old female - a granny if you will - carrying groceries. At that moment I felt awkward. Yamada and Tyrone covered themselves with their headwear, I covered with my hands. Mikhael checked that the granny wasn't a person of interest - before losing any interest moving on as she clicked her tongue. And Bobby, the pure spirit that he was, offered help with the bags. Granny smiled, but politely "redlighted" out, leaving Bobby himself beetroot red from embarrassment.

***

To Mikhael's great disdain, we joined another group raiding a female wine store. Mikhael warned "not to take more zan one bottle", and remained on guard.

John caught up with us, triumphantly shot a champagne bottle, and sprayed others with its contents. Yamada felt the need to grab a bigger bottle, John responded with a second one, and now the two of them were spraying each other with a while bobbling liquid shooting it from their... well, you get the picture.

I hid in the corner of a wine cellar and used this opportunity to catch a breather for the first time in what felt like ages. I didn't feel like drinking this early in the morning anyway, and I had no way to carry a bottle with me - since I was the only one completely naked - no backpack, no hat, not even a bracelet.