It's the not-so-distant future. A wave of conservative values has swept over the planet, leading to a massive decline in birth rates. Were this trend to continue unabated, large sections of the economy could collapse and there likely wouldn't be enough people to fill roles in the military. Tough decisions had to be made. The first thing the world governments did was ban condoms and birth control, but this was deemed not an effective enough measure. Ultimately the solution was to give extremely fertile men certain...privileges. Any woman age eighteen to thirty-two can be 'inspected' by Body Inspectors. While most of the men who work as BIs are content just to abuse their power and cop a feel, the intent is for them to take a woman to a private place and impregnate her. However, these inspections can be performed in public, and as impromptu as the BI likes. To refuse an official Inspection was considered a felony. Lives were ruined by refusal; it simply wasn't an option for the young girls who became the subject of a Bis lechery. The majority of BIs were young, handsome, virile men. But occasionally a BI badge would find itself in the hands of an older man who just so happened to apply and have good swimmers.
That was the story of Bill. The fifty-four-year-old was fat, bald, and had to breathe heavily with even the slightest physical exertion. He applied to become a BI almost as a joke to himself, one with no punchline. He never thought in a million years that his aging sperm sample would be selected as one that met the potency requirements. But here he was, badge and all, a bona fide BI. It was time to test his new authority. He walked into his local big box hardware store. He knew his first victim immediately as he crossed the threshold of the door.
At the cash register was a young woman with long, wavy, brown hair. Her skin was slightly tan, her eyes black. She had a mouth full of beautifully straight white teeth, and showed them off with a dazzling smile for every customer she met. Bill had wanted to fuck her since she first arrived there a few months back. She wore the store's uniform of black pants, a white polo shirt, and an apron. He grabbed a basket, threw a few drill bits in there, and proceeded to check out. She smiled brightly as she scanned his items. He grinned back.
"So...are you working here to pay your way through college?"
She nodded. "Yes! I'm studying to become a preschool teacher. I'm a semester away from my associates degree in early childhood development."
"How wonderful!" She gushed at the compliment. "That makes you what, eighteen years old?"
"I'm nineteen!" She smiled further, her voice resounding with confidence. She didn't frown until he reached out and took her small breast in hand and gave it a squeeze. She gasped instantly and knocked his hand away. "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU! EW! YOU'RE OLD ENOUGH TO BE MY DAD!" She shrank from him, her arms now protectively covering her miniscule little rack.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out his BI badge. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to classify this as an official inspection. I've just become a BI." Several men shopping had stopped to watch the unfolding scene. Some felt sympathy for the young girl, but most just looked on and grinned cruelly. A look of terror crossed the young girl's narrow face. "Stand up straight. And go ahead and remove your apron. I want to get a good look at you."
The tiny young woman obeyed both orders with gritted teeth. She spoke in hopes of hiding this otherwise public spectacle. "There's a break room right around the corner. I'm sure my manager would let us use it...for this inspection."
He waved his hand dismissively and began to knead her small breasts between his fingers causing a groan to escape her lips. "Nonsense. I think an inspection should be performed right out in the open. I want people to see this inspection. That way they know there's no funny business. People should trust Body Inspectors. These are very nice cute little tits you have here."
"Please..." She begged. "...you're being so rough with my breasts. Please, let's go somewhere private." By now, several of the more uncaring men had taken out their cell phones and begun to film the spectacle.
"You're very beautiful. Do you have a boyfriend?"
Her groaning was turning into soft moans. She was glad she was wearing a bra. Her nipples were as hard as rock. She felt a little damp. Was she getting turned on by this? "Yes." She replied.
"Yes, what my sweet little kitten?"
"YES, I HAVE A BOYFRIEND." Her voice was a shout now. She was having trouble stomaching the indignity of this whole thing. Here was this gross, old, fat man. He was helping himself to grope her body, touching her in ways only one or two boys ever had. Now he was treating her like she was inconveniencing him?
"Has has he fucked you yet?"
She gave a sigh of exasperation. "We've had sex before. Yes. He's sweet and gentle. He pulls out so I won't get pregnant though. You're not going to..." He unbuttoned the collar of the shirt and began raising it up her body. She instinctively raised her arms and let him pull the shirt off of her. She didn't know why she let him treat her like this. He basked in the sight of her nineteen-year-old breasts, encased in their small pink bra. She instinctively brought her arms up again to shield her breasts from all the men gawking at her, but Bill pushed her hands to her sides.
"That's excellent then."
She raised her eyebrows. "Why is that excellent?"
His sneer widened. "Because you're already a little tramp, so you won't mind if I help myself to your tight little body." He walked behind the register and brought his hands to her small, tight little ass. He gasped it, and pulled her body tightly against his, hey bra clad breasts now mashed against his chest. She gasped softly.
