*** A Futuristic Adventure – with some Gratuitous Sex and Violence, of course ***
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Chapter 1
A Rancher, a Procurer and The Matriarch – Post-apocalyptic Problems
Morena had a problem. Production was falling off. And if she didn't deliver some very high quality product within the next couple of weeks, she'd lose her contract with the Matriarch and pretty much be back in the gutters she'd worked so hard to climb out of.
And it wasn't that she didn't have good stock. Hers were some of the finest culled from the Uplands, far from the corruption and debauchery of the Cities, which tainted and ruined most of the available breeding stock.
The devastation had been widespread, and the only purebreds to be found these days had to be rounded up and brought down from the Hills.
So when her carefully constructed stable of breeders began to falter, and the production rate and volume of viable semen began to fall off, she was understandably worried.
But what to do about it? She made her rounds every morning, checking her stock, but couldn't find any one cause. She had thought diet might be part of it, so she'd brought in consultants to design the best course of nutrition-based feed. She had thought a lack of sufficiently stimulating females might be the problem, that her studs might not be adequately motivated. So she'd acquired the best she could buy. She thought maybe there was some environmental factor having an effect on the studs' hormonal balance, so she'd brought in medical specialists to try and get it sorted. And nothing had worked.
Now she just didn't know what to do.
She sat brooding, finishing her morning coffee before doing her rounds, when there was a polite knock at the door to her suite.
"Enter!" she called, wondering what trivial problem would demand her attention this early in the morning.
An older woman in a staff uniform opened the door and stepped in, followed by a young girl, barely out of her teens if that, dressed in hunters' camo.
"Alyssa from Vern's Dale to see you, Mum," the older woman announced.
Morena didn't bother to rise. Motioning to the girl to come forward, she said "thank you, Deidre. You may go." The older woman retired as the girl approached.
"Please, have a seat," Morena gestured to the table. "Can I get you some coffee?"
"A small cup would be appreciated, Mistress," the girl answered quietly, moving to a chair and sitting.
Morena poured half a mug and handed it over, looking at the girl as she did so.
"You're an Uplander," she said. "Vern's Dale is on the Skirts, but you've an air about you that says the Wilds."
"Yes, ma'am," the girl replied. "Born in the Dale, raised there and in the Wilds. Spent a lot of time wandering the Wilds. Moved back to the Dale about three years ago. Wanted to be closer to the supply chain."
"So what do you do?" Morena asked.
"I'm a Procurer, ma'am," Alyssa told her. "Have been since I was eleven. One of the best. Word traveled that you needed help. I'm here for the job."
"So you've been at it a couple of years, then," Morena commented, still looking at the girl. She was definitely young, but had that weathered look that trouble and the outdoors brought on. Not unattractive, actually. Medium height and build – a little tough to judge under the camo – athletic, blonde hair pulled back in a bun, piercing grey eyes, thin lips that didn't smile much. Definitely seen her share of shit, Morena decided.
"I assure you, ma'am, I'm significantly older than thirteen," the girl answered in a level tone. "I can find the stock you need and bring 'em in. Intact. And healthy. I can guarantee each one to be productive and I'd wager they'll encourage your existing stable to increase their productivity."
"So what do you want for them?" Morena asked.
"How many do you need?" Alyssa asked in return.
"At least a half dozen, preferably more, if they're purebred and productive. Males only. I don't need any females. Or maybe one or two females, if they're good at stimulating the studs."
"Then I'd want a thousand a head for the males and five hundred for the females. And you don't need to pay me an advance. Full payment on delivery is good enough," Alyssa told her.
"That's pretty steep," Morena told her refilling her coffee. "More?" she asked Alyssa.
"I'm fine, thanks," Alyssa responded, again in that no-nonsense business voice. "My prices are steep because I deliver the best. If any studs I bring to you don't measure up to your standards, you don't pay me for 'em and they go with me when I leave. Same for the females."
The girl then sat quietly, regarding Morena in turn.
The Rancher before her was middle aged, with a cultured beauty that said she put a lot of time into her image. By reputation, she was one of the best, and had a standing contract with the Matriarch to furnish semen suitable for breeding noble lines. Thoroughbred breeding – the use of natural live cover – wasn't used any more. Too many problems since the war. But genetic pedigree was of paramount importance, and the Ranchers who could deliver made big money.
Looking around Morena's estate confirmed it.
"That seems fair," Morena decided. "Do I get to run DNA tests before I pay you?"
"You can run any tests you want," Alyssa told her. "You can even milk one to check the product, if you want. Or I'll do it. Totally up to you. You just have to keep up your end of the bargain."
"Is there anything else?" Morena asked. "Any form of advance payment, perhaps?"
"If you could see your way clear, ma'am," Alyssa told her, "I could use a horse. Lost my last one to the wolves. Solid working stock, if you can. Not one of the sissy light riding horses the city folk prance around on. Somewhere between a Steppe Pony and a War Horse, if you get my meaning."
"How about I advance you five hundred, and you buy the horse and whatever tack you need?" Morena asked. "Saves me the hassle and you get what you want."
"If you could make it six hundred, I'd say that was a solid deal," Alyssa told her. "Non-refundable, though. It can come off the first stud I bring you. But if you don't take any, I keep the horse and gear for my troubles."
"Deal," Morena said, rising and extending her hand.
"Deal, ma'am," Alyssa responded, also rising and shaking Morena's hand. "Expect me in three weeks."
"Could you make it two?" Morena asked. "I have a contract due and I'd rather not have to ask for an extension."
"I will do my best, ma'am," Alyssa told her. "With your permission?"
"Alyssa, was it? Yes, Alyssa, you may go. Deidre outside will get your money for you and show you out. Give her this." And she scribbled a note on some parchment and handed it to Alyssa.
The girl took one more look at the infamous Matron, nodded, and left.
Morena sat back down and poured one more cup of coffee. Some days, three was the right number to start with.
* * * * * * * * * *
It was still mid-morning when she entered the Proofing Room with Stella, her right-hand-woman and the one she trusted to manage her stable. Rodriguez, the lead stable hand, had all the studs to be checked chained along one wall. There were about twenty this morning. Generally speaking, a neck collar was the only restraint necessary, with enough chain so the studs could move around but not make a break for the door or get into anything hurtful. In this case, though, Rodriguez had taken more precautions.
Morena walked up to the first one and said, "okay... let's see what we've got."
She reached out and grabbed the stud's cock in her hand and began massaging it. He gave out a low moan and sagged against the chains holding his wrists to the overhead piping. He soon began responding and rapidly grew erect. He was thick and long, with pendulous balls, and it didn't take long before his groans indicated his imminent orgasm.
Stella stepped forward with a specimen cup and Morena aimed the stud's hefty manhood into it, continuing her stroking until with a loud moan, he erupted into it. Twelve healthy spurts before he fell off, Morena noticed. Almost 10cc, twice the normal maximum yield. This was why she was selective in her choice of stock.
Morena glanced at the stud's collar and told Stella, "1-9-7" as she handed her the specimen cup. Then she moved to the next one while Stella capped and labeled the cup, handing it to Rodriguez to put in a rack. The next stud was similarly built and had very similar reactions to being handled by Morena. It didn't take her long to make him fill another cup, and to pass it off to Stella for processing, before moving on to the next.
The next one was a skinny little runt with an obscenely long cock when flaccid and low hanging balls. Actually, he reminded Morena of a weasel. But Morena wasn't interested in the stud's looks. She was interested in the quality and quantity of sperm-bearing semen that was still fertile and unpolluted. And this pitiful excuse of a man qualified. He'd been brought in with a roundup about four years ago when he was still a kid. But when his test results came in, he made it to the A-string in one.
The only problem was, no matter what Morena or Stella did, he just plain didn't respond. And it wasn't for lack of trying.
"Rodriguez," Morena stated as she stepped forward with the cup from Stella.
The stable hand moved forward without question. He'd been down this road before... the operative word being "down". He squatted in front of the skinny stud, took his flaccid cock in his hand, then stuffed it in his mouth and sucked. Hard.
