No 1
The year was 6395 of the galactic trade authority and it was a bleak year as any. The intergalactic military post TauAlphaFour was one of the many guarding the rift of space between the last few scattered space stations of the Human Alliance and the violent alien race known to humans as the Chikqtuc, named after the sharp consonant sounds of their language. TaurAlphaFour floated in space like a large greasy meatball, constantly oozing a gravy of coming-and-going military transport ships and space trash that was thrown out the airlock. The station was a giant sphere of metal-alloys and plasti-steel that contained over four-hundred separate units. Littering the outside are military-grade voyagers and blitzers forming a rough circle. Quartered inside where the conscripted soldiers of the Human Alliance, called to fight until death, to protect the last remaining of the civilian human species from the Chikqtuc.
Ensign Silas was just another grunt caught in the great turning wheels that churned at the whims of the Central Committee, the foremost political council on leading the human species. To the best of his knowledge, the council remained in power by hyping up the constant desperation of the human population coupled with their extraordinary ability to legislate a large number of decrees which only served to soothe the population into thinking things would get better... but only after their rations of cornmeal had dropped by 2oz. To conserve water all water-producing taps were replaced with Council-issued valves that reduced the flow rate to a single drop per second.
At some point there had been a decree passed to regulate the amount of breathes per minute a person was allowed to take in order to save oxygen. Which sounds logical if you don't know that the machines in one single shuttle could create enough oxygen for the entire human race off the trace water-vapor found in space, water as of itself was also neither rare or scarce. Silas supposes he should be thankful seeing as the military was allowed a generous 30 breathes per minute due to their strenuous training exercises, as opposed to the allotted civilian allowance of 18.
The new decrees for the lunar cycle were as listed: Another decrease in rations for chewing tobacco, decrease in pepper, increase in allotted time for recreational electronic charging by 45 seconds, decrease in flour rations. A degree that proclaiming that any leather objects must be surrendered to the Council in exchange for government-issued replacements, to help with the short-supply in the military. Not that Silas remembers seeing anything leather his whole time in the military.
The degree that caught his eye: "The Central Committee decrees that all females of childbearing ages 18-55 must register as trying for child with at least one male for the further continuation and of the human species. Offenders will be taken into custody until they complete their duty to humankind."
He had only heard whispers and laughs about it from other soldiers, teasing aimed towards him. But the general belief that was it was too insane to be legislated.
Silas was an unusual man to say the least. Although he looked, and felt, like any other red-blooded male, by some lamentable twist of fate he was born female. He started taking male hormones at the age of 16 and once it was clear at age of 18 he was functioning on par with the rest of the boys he was conscripted along with the rest of the males into the military for the betterment of the human race (or something like that). The only life Silas knows is living as one of the male-conscripts bound to die in some freak alien attack with his finger on the trigger.
The rest of the men knew, due to the close communal quarters and showers it was old news to most but the new recruits, who always were surprised at shower time to see a pussy among the dicks being waved around and measured. Any other men who had a problem with it got over it fairly quick, being on the losing side of a war with an alien species tended to make people rethink their priorities.
And any of the men that gave Silas shit for it got their asses handled. Silas may have been born female but he wasn't a pushover, and after five years of his mandatory conscription and training at the base had left him strong. Five years was longer than about half the recruits last, most get killed their first couple years serving.
He also had a suspicion that the personnel at medical had been more than generous with the male hormones he had been receiving. Medical at the base tended to be shady, either new doctors with no experience, or the more experienced ones who were interested in conducting research experiments that were too 'speculative' to be allowed in a civilian colony. One of the older surgeons seemed a little too eager in convincing him to pursuing surgical sex reassignment, the same doctor who was notorious on base for drastic experimental surgeries, sometimes with amazing outcomes, and other times leaving soldiers disfigured and crippled.
Silas had not had sex for those five years because he didn't want to appear weak. He was not too happy it looked like he was gonna have to entertain at least one man in the near future. There were already more than a couple men who would be more than happy to pleasure him and fill his "man pussy" with their cum, as he was told on multiple occasions. He always had harbored more attraction to men than women but, if anything, spending so long living close quartered in deep space with the machoism of young, military-aged males who thought the galaxy orbited around their dicks was a massive turn-off.
Despite the perpetual darkness of deep-space, it was still the morning and Ensign Silas walked to the mess before morning training. After he received his morning allotment of salty grits and watery orange drink from the atomic food production unit, he sat in a corner by the mess, and was quickly approached by a large dark man known as Denver. Denver was one of the older recruits, arriving only a couple months after Silas did here, he was known for his brute strength and height but also his calm demeanor and internal sense of morality. The living embodiment of 'speak softly and carry a large stick.'
"I read the boards this morning. So I'm coming to tell you, I'll make it worth your while. I won't be one of those pricks that are gonna close their eyes and think of a big titted bitch. I only fuck men and I consider you as much of a man as any, and I'd l love to play with that pussy of yours if you let me."
"if that's what you've come to tell me you can leave now," Silas said. Denver strode away tall and proud out of the mess hall. Silas hated this, any small amount of respect and camaraderie there was between soldiers was washed away and they would approach him like he was a piece of meat. Silas appetite was suddenly gone and he started to leave, not before a group of new recruits started whistling at him.
"Looks like Silas got himself a big black stud to breed him, I guess it's too late for us, boys," the tallest said while laughing, the rest of the group cat-whistling from across the cafeteria.
Their training was even more testosterone fueled and territorial than normal. Most men didn't seem to be interest in the idea of Silas' requirement of government mandated sex, about a tenth of the men were extremely interested and took the decree as permission to tell him the many ways they would satisfy him in bed. One even going to say that he would let Silas fuck him first with an item of Silas' choosing. Silas had to admit that offer was pretty tempting, and didn't make him feel so alone in being fucked (no pun intended) about his current predicament.
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
Silas approached the office of his direct commander. It was unheard of for a soldier of Silas' lower status to visit the office of a commander, but Silas supposed there was no way around it. He knocked before entering.
His commander was a matured man in his forties, still strong as fuck with a few strands of salt and pepper among a light brown short-military cut hair. A prominent scar cut across his right cheek where he had been injured in a hand fight between a Cikqtuc soldier, that was legendary among the conscripts.
"What brings you here, Ensign Silas?" said that man in a commanding tone, although the ensign had the suspicion he already knew why Silas had come.
"To do my duty for the Committee, Sir," Silas replied, somewhat warily. With that he undid the buckle of his pants and let them fall to his ankles, giving the commander a nice view of his large clit jutting forward, out from his hairy lips and the furry trail above it. The commander frowned.
"You should be choosing among the other ensigns. They're going to think you're getting an easy time or special favors for this- and you're most definitely," the older male said loudly.
