Introduction

It was an election year. Amidst a heated political debate between the incumbent president and his political rival, another threat was growing that would shake the very foundation of democracy. A mutated virus had appeared that targeted the Y chromosome. It was thought to have started in simple insect populations, quickly spreading to domesticated animals through insect bites. Still, though, the virus had gone about unchallenged since every time an animal died, it had been assumed it was something else like heart disease, old age, or some other normal cause of death.

The other assumption was that when a pandemic patient died, it was from complications from their treatment. Everyone across the world had already been primed to expect increased infection rates and a rising death toll during the warmer summer months. But a few careful scientists noticed that some pandemic projections were wildly inaccurate. Something was wrong. Female death rates remained in the predicted ranges, but the male death rates had exceeded expectations by several orders of magnitude. There were reports of healthy males being rapidly, and painfully, reduced to nothing more than pale bedridden husks on the brink of death, with most cases resulting in a gruesome, agonizing death in less than a week.

The issue gained more attention shortly after the president secured a second-term victory over his rival when several cases in lower Chicago began popping up where previously healthy young people started dying of what appeared to be heart disease and old age. Having presided as president during one of the worst global pandemics in human history, the president was not ready to witness the fall of the United States due to the economic fallout of another prolonged lockdown of the nation. The pandemic had cost the U.S. an estimated 14.5 trillion dollars between lost GDP, Pandemic bills from Congress, and overspending to supply American families and small businesses with financial assistance.

The CDC of course immediately ramped up its efforts to investigate and identify the pathogen responsible for these deaths. In a matter of days, they had discovered the culprit, labeling it VYrus A due to the viral target being the Y chromosome. As more and more cases appeared at an exponentially increasing rate, a state of emergency was declared by the president in all forty-eight contiguous states, with Canada and Mexico soon following suit with their own states of emergency.

Because this virus only attacked the Y chromosome, women were allowed to continue their normal routines with no restrictions, but all men in non-essential jobs were immediately placed under biohazard quarantine in their homes or other secured housing facilities until the crisis was averted. All men in essential jobs were to immediately work with their departments to train female replacements to take over their workload ASAP.

Within the first six months of the virus being identified by the CDC/WHO joint research team, a mutated form of VYrus A was discovered in several mosquito traps in Calcasieu Parish, LA.  This variant, when exposed to rats in a controlled lab environment, exhibited increased resistance to antibiotics and nullified all benefits from the anti-viral medications used while the biotech industry sought a cure. This was to be the start of a fast and vicious string of deaths on a global scale from VYrus.

Of course, with the announcement of this additional viral pandemic during a White House press briefing, news media outlets across the world picked up the story and began weaving their own narrative, injecting their predictions and assumptions into all their listeners’ minds. As before with the previous lockdown, hordes of shoppers took to the retailers to grab all the supplies they could get their hands on. What they didn’t realize was that there was no point in stocking up on hand sanitizer and toilet paper.

Within another three months, VYrus B had mutated yet again, this time inheriting the ability to become airborne and at the same time requiring fewer virions present in a new host to reach a lethal dose. This effectively made all protective equipment, short of a hazmat suit, ineffective in preventing the spread of VYrus, since it had already been observed that VYrus could survive intact outside a host for upwards of ten days. When it came down to it, you either ventured out in a fully sealed hazmat suit with oxygen tanks or you stayed inside a hermetically sealed building away from anyone and anything that had been outside in the past two weeks.

Recognizing there was no way to safely have a male work without hazmat in the field, the world governments put into effect a mandatory stay-at-home order for all males, effective immediately. As if this weren’t bad enough, with the death toll continuously rising ever more quickly, things were about to get a whole lot worse - and mankind would face the ultimate test with extinction being the loser’s fate.

VYrus C would rear its ugly head within days after VYrus B was found, but it was limited to being spread by all bodily fluids including saliva, sweat, and those involved in reproduction. Between the ballooning number of deaths and the devastation to the ecosystem from insect and animal die-off, world governments were becoming extremely concerned by the rapid rate of mutation of VYrus. Emergency sessions of Congress were convened to draft legislation required in the event no males survived this extinction-level plague event. After all, it had been estimated that the world population had already plummeted from an estimated eight billion to less than four billion in a matter of one year. At this rate, all males might be gone in less than five years and the only way to preserve humanity would be through artificial means, in hermetically sealed reproductive facilities.

Fortunately, as it turned out it was another six months before the next variant VYrus D would be identified. VYrus D upped the game by adding in multiple new protein coatings and infection vectors to include simple bacteria being used as a transport mechanism. All remaining men had no choice but to eat lab-grown food that was completely vegan in silicate farms possessing minimal plant nutrients to prevent bacterial contamination.

Though this didn’t stop the death train with another 500 million men succumbing to complete organ failure from VYrus infection during that time. Clearly, this was putting an enormous strain on cremation and burial services, not to mention the economic toll from billions of workers no longer producing goods and services to feed the tax coffers. Soon governments resorted to simply digging mass graves and erecting a large wall with the names of all those buried beneath it.

As if VYrus wasn’t fulfilling the role of a biblical plague already, due to mistakes, accidents, a few attacks by scorned lovers, and three terrorist attacks on these quarantine locations, nearly all of the remaining men in the U.S. were either exposed or already dead. The small percentage of remaining men in the other parts of the world did not fare any better and within months, only about 50,000 males were alive worldwide. Every scientist specializing in genetics, reproductive science, and virology was weighing in on how humanity could avoid this extinction-level event.

That number being how many humans from each gender scientists had already calculated would be the minimum required to maintain a healthy gene pool. Humanity was continuing to trend to drop well below the threshold on the male side and only time would tell if roughly three billion women could shore up the genetic diversity required to prevent the extinction of the species.

 While this was definitely an extremely risky time for humanity, this presented the remaining scientists, most of whom now consisted of immune females, an opportunity to identify more rapidly how to fight this virus which had by now gone through multiple mutations and the current form was VYrus E, an airborne, one-hundred percent contagious, lethal, antibiotic and vaccine-resistant version requiring extreme temperatures to destroy.

Researchers found that the only ones who could come into contact with the virus were females since they possessed a pair of X chromosomes, and oddly enough chimeras, those who possess a pair of X chromosomes in addition to XY chromosomal DNA. Though survivability rates for those chimeras were still being speculated after researchers confirmed the virus still destroyed tissues with Y chromosomes.

What researchers did know to be true across all variants of VYrus was the method by which it infiltrated the body and generally how it killed the infected host. They had observed that in every positive case, there was a visibly identifiable concentration of VYrus in the eye which gave the appearance of a twinkle in the eye. Oddly though, no one could identify the mechanism in the eye causing the twinkle effect. In every exposed male the fluid in the eye was perfectly clear as expected and there were no impurities that could explain the phenomenon.

This was, however, a minor medical mystery compared to the larger and more drastic problem of ever-increasing genetic sparsity. So, when the number of surviving males hit 20,000 a new state of emergency was declared, bringing with it a new set of laws focused on the survival of the human race on a genetic level. Society no longer had the luxury of creating new life solely as a product of the love of two adults.

These new laws essentially established an entirely new standard for a civilized society where almost all previous social conventions were now obsolete and new social conventions were in some instances mandated by law, while other new conventions for the sake of bipartisan cooperation were “recommended standards”. The most shocking aspect of the new laws for most was that on the surface, it looked like they had been written by a bunch of old men set on re-establishing the old world of male domination over women.

When looking at the substance of this new legislation, however, one could see for themselves that in fact all men were essentially being forced to forfeit all of their freedoms and were being turned into a commodity, almost like slaves. Instead of being based on skin color, this was based on the ability to breed.

There was a great concern when passing these new laws as there were only six surviving males in the House of Representatives and only a single male in the Senate at the time of the passing votes. It was unanimously agreed by the House and the Senate that all of the men would have to have a complete and unwavering agreement with the bills being passed in order to alleviate concerns of misrepresentation.

To avoid genetic disorders from inbreeding from autosomal dominant diseases, familial lines would be kept separate by identifying families traditionally with the last name of the male. That is where the similarities to “the old ways” essentially ended. As a cornerstone of the new laws, each male would now be mandated to take at least one additional wife each year, and they would be required to replace any wife that left them with an additional wife within six months. This is in addition to the first group of wives to join them which would number potentially in the thousands.

For practical purposes, the anti-bigamy laws forbidding being married to more than one wife were rescinded and a new unlimited polyamorous marriage statute was put in its place to expire with either the death of the male or permanent sterility occurring in the male. Also, with each child reaching reproductive maturity, the children would be transferred to their next household based on genetic compatibility testing performed at their birth.

Not only were the males required to take on wives regularly, but also as part of the mandated law, the men were required to demonstrate proof of engaging in procreation with each wife within four months of joining the household. Deviation from this would result in either laboratory insemination of the wife and government supervision of the male to ensure compliance, or in the case of marriage fraud, the wife would be forcibly divorced from the male, removed from the household, and barred from re-marrying for a period of no less than five years. In the unlikely event a male refused to impregnate his wives, they would be transferred to a medical prison where they would be chemically and electrically forced to provide sperm for the impregnation of their wives.

To maintain a balance between the genders, the senate, being composed of ninety-nine percent females at the time of the vote for this legislative package, unanimously agreed that when a woman entered a household as a wife, they would immediately be granted lifetime no-cost healthcare with no maximum limit. In order to maintain this benefit, the wife would have to prove through ultrasound a confirmed pregnancy once every three years.

As was already customary, all children born after the ratification of the “Repopulation Law” would receive no-cost healthcare for a period of five years, with an additional benefit from the new law of ten more years. Additionally, upon the birth of each child, ten percent of a wife’s total debt would be forgiven. A minimum of five children would be required from a wife to be granted lifetime household residence, except in cases where a wife became unable to meet this number through no fault of her own.

When VY struck, Braedon was in the midst of a typical suburban male lifestyle, still in the prime of his life, and married to the one woman who could remain devoted to a lifetime with him as his wife. Only she had understood the hurdles he had struggled with through all of his life. He never imagined that one day his life would change forever and everything he was taught to believe would be swept aside. Would he be a willing participant in the destruction of his moral fibers and take advantage of a horrible situation or would he be a voice of resistance and refuse to allow himself to break the most important pledge in his life - his vow of marriage to his loving wife?

Chapter 1: Liberty Rings for the Final Time

           Ugh, another morning of waking up at 4:00 AM? When Braedon said he wanted a few more hours in the day, this wasn’t what he had in mind. Seeing as how he was awake though, he figured he could check his emails and see what was new for today until his 8:00 AM alarm went off. Braedon pulled up his Gmail and to his surprise, found over 100 new emails just since going to bed a little before midnight. After deleting the obvious junk mail, he was still left with about forty emails, which was surprising.

When he checked the first for the county newsletter, the top story was about VYrus. Opening the story, he almost immediately saw that President Nerraw had declared a second state of emergency, which encompassed all fifty states and U.S. territories. Then the big shock came when Braedon looked at a graph showing the male death toll since VYrus was first identified, to the confirmed numbers as of last Sunday. Over five billion males dead in only a matter of months leaving only an estimated 2,000 surviving males, forcing the federal government to take immediate action to slow the rapid death spiral.

Reading further, the presidential order apparently required all males to avoid going outdoors, restricted all access to mass transit, and placed all human males on the endangered species list. What the hell?! Braedon couldn’t believe what he had read and on the county newsletter no less. This couldn’t be right, he kept thinking to himself, until a call came into his phone at 5:00 AM from a number identified as the Dept of ICPD. Normally Braedon would just ignore a call and let it go to voicemail this early in the morning, not knowing who or what the Dept of ICPD was, but this call forced his phone off vibrate mode. Answering the call, Braedon listened to the pre-recorded message that immediately started playing:

“This is a call from the Department of International Conference on Population and Development. This call will be recorded. If you are not Braedon Owens, please press nine so that this call can be ended and allow the next call from us to go to voicemail. If you are Braedon Owens, please wait for the U.S. State Department agent who will provide you instructions.”

… … … … …

“Hello Mr. Owens, this is Agent Landrew calling from the State Department. We apologize for the early call this morning, but we are calling all males who are documented as being free of infection from the VYrus pathogen. As of 8:00 AM Eastern Standard Time, all U.S. male citizens are being directed to report to an assigned quarantine facility where they will receive an informational packet that will provide more detailed information.

You are being provided with the time of pickup for the transportation you will take to in-processing. Please do not pack any belongings and avoid all physical contact with any persons that are currently residing in your home. You will be provided with a new communication device after you complete decontamination and your family members will be provided with contact information after you board the transport.

Your pickup location is at your current home address as it is on file with the Social Security Administration and your pickup time is between 6:20 and 6:25 this morning. Do you have any questions for me at this time, Mr. Owens?”

After taking a deep breath, Braedon answered the agent by asking if he could text his wife from the phone he’d used to answer the call, to let her know that he was being quarantined and that he’d call her as soon as he got an opportunity.

Agent Landrew had already been asked this question many times in the past forty-eight hours from the other men she had been tasked with contacting. She confirmed for him that this was acceptable.

“Yes Mr. Owens, a short text message is not a problem, since quarantine is accounting for initial contact on your phone for this call. After sending the text though, we ask that you refrain from touching anything else and remain seated until the transport arrives. At that point, the medical transport team will knock on the door and identify themselves as Department of ICPD, then we will disarm your alarm system remotely and they will utilize a lock pick to unlock your front door. Then just follow the agent’s instructions and another agent will speak with your family and provide them with your contact information.”

Satisfied at least for the time being, Braedon agreed to follow the instructions provided and sent his wife a text.

‘Hey, babe, sorry I can’t talk to you face-to-face, but apparently, I’m part of a group of men being quarantined. They said no physical contact with anyone for now. The federal government is sending a vehicle of some sort to drive me to a facility for processing. They said one of their agents will answer any questions you have and give you information so we can contact each other once I finish with decontamination. I love you very much and give our child a hug and kiss for me! Hopefully, we get to see each other soon!’

Braedon then began the wait, sitting on the couch in the dark until finally, the Ring doorbell flashed an alert on his phone that motion was detected in front of the house. He then stood up from the couch and before he could get to the door, he saw his alarm panel indicate a disarm event had been activated by EMS. He heard a person knock on the door three times, then identify themselves as he had been told to expect. Then noises, as they picked the deadbolt and a click as the bolt disengaged.

As the door opened, three female agents appeared, each in what appeared to be hazmat suits. Braedon put his finger up to his lips to indicate that he would prefer the three agents keep their voices low. “Our child is still sleeping in the room”, he whispered. Braedon then stepped through the doorway into the porch where he now saw that a temporary plastic tunnel shelter had been extended from the transport vehicle to where the storm door used to be. The agents indicated for Braedon to proceed to the transport with two of the female agents. Once the two agents and Braedon boarded the transport, the third agent walked back to the transport and pressed a button on a control panel that auto retracted the plastic tunnel.

As the transport began to drive away, another female agent pulled into the driveway and walked up to the house to initiate contact with Braedon’s wife. Having been woken by the notification on her phone by the alarm system being turned off, and then seeing the text message her husband sent earlier, she got dressed and came down the stairs.

As she approached the landing, she heard a knock at the door and saw the alarm system was still disarmed, which normally wouldn’t be the case if Braedon had gone to work, like any other day. She pulled the curtain back and observed a woman dressed in a suit standing at the door. She opened the door and welcomed the agent to come in and sit at the dining room table, where they started to discuss the situation.

Meanwhile, Braedon sat on a bench seat on the transport surrounded by a plastic sheet intended to isolate him from the other male passengers, also being moved to quarantine. He, along with all the other males, had been provided an informational packet to read while en route to quarantine. The packet covered amongst other things, why he was being quarantined, the city in which he would reside, and what to expect when he arrived at in-processing.

At the end of the packet was a non-disclosure agreement and a document stating that he agreed that he understood that he was to follow all instructions given to him by ICPD personnel, their representatives, and any other contractors bearing ICPD identification. Realizing he had little to no choice in the matter, Braedon signed both documents and waited as the remainder of the males were picked up and the transport approached the designated quarantine facility.

Not knowing who else to talk to, Braedon’s wife called her mother to tell her the news. Of course, as expected she burst into tears within seconds of telling her mom what happened. Her mom told her to come over and she’d make a pot of coffee so they could talk while the baby slept in the other room. Gingerly she moved the baby into the car seat, amazingly without her waking for more than a few seconds, and drove to her parents’ house. It was a short drive thankfully and her mom was waiting by the front door when she arrived.

As soon as she entered her mom’s house and set the baby down, she immediately broke into tears, crying on her mom’s shoulder.

“I just don’t get it. Why did the government have to call Braedon only hours before he had to leave? I don’t even know if we’ll ever see him again and all they tell me is that I need to be patient! It’s not fair! I mean I’m so glad that he didn’t die from the outbreak because all I hear on the radio and TV is about millions more men dying every day. But our child needs a father, I need my husband and how am I supposed to keep the house without his income? I’m so scared mom!”

Savannah’s younger brother, having heard the commotion came down the stairs to find his sister sobbing. “Dad, what happened?” her brother Homer Thomas asked his dad who was resting in the recliner.

“The Feds just took Braedon without notice this morning. All she was told is that it’s because Braedon, like you and I, are of the small handful of men still alive.”

“So does that mean we’re next to be taken, dad?”

“Your guess is as good as mine Tommy. We just have to wait and see for now.”

Her mom just listened as her daughter got everything off her chest, refilling her coffee and doing her best to console her daughter, and reassured her that everything would turn out just fine. Of course, her mom had no way of knowing how things would turn out or if she or her daughter would ever see Braedon again or if he would remain in complete isolation, a final remnant of a doomed species. All they could do was keep their hopes up and pray that he would come back to them.

While they were giving each other another hug, the house phone started to ring. Her mom stood up and walked over to answer the phone. Picking up the receiver, it was less than a minute before her mom’s jaw dropped, and her face went white as a ghost. Both mom and daughter knew what was about to happen… Braedon, Damian and Homer Thomas were all being quarantined.

“Damian, come get the phone, it’s for you”, her mom Beverly called out to her husband resting in the living room recliner. Damian talked to the agent on the phone and realized when he glanced over to Beverly, she already knew exactly what was happening. He told the agent he understood and had no questions for now.

A half-hour later the transport pulled up in front of the house and the same plastic tunnel extended to the front door. Three agents walked up to the door and rang the doorbell. Beverly and Savannah both gave Damian and Homer Thomas one last hug before they boarded the transport and left, possibly for the rest of their lives. Braedon, his father-in-law and Savannah’s brother were all gone, leaving mom and daughter to pick up the pieces.

Chapter 2: Hell Week

Once the transport Braedon was on picked up its final passenger, the shutters that had been open, to illuminate the inside of the vehicle, were then closed and soft blue lighting came on under the bench seating and on the ceiling running down the length of the aisle between seats. Two of the agents sitting at the front stood up facing the male passengers to provide instructions on the next stage of the journey. In a soothing voice, one agent spoke, while the other translated into sign language:

“First off, your government would like to thank you for your cooperation and understanding today. Now that all passengers have boarded, we are taking a secure route to your designated quarantine facility. We have closed the window shades for your privacy as well as for your protection. We ask that you remain seated until we reach our destination and we come to a complete stop.

“When we arrive at the facility, the window shades will be opened again. At that time facility personnel will stand outside the transport door, and we will begin calling names. When you hear your name called, please stand so that one of us can escort you to the facility staff member outside. Please do not stand until your name is called. The smoother this process goes the sooner you will have an opportunity to contact your family.

“Are there any questions before we arrive at the facility? …No? Alright, thank you.”

After the other agent finished signing, both agents sat back down, and the transport continued along its secure route with its secret passenger list. With nothing to read or listen to and the awkwardness of talking with strangers in plastic bubbles, the ride seemed to last forever. If only they had allowed him to keep his phone, or at least his watch, he would know better how time was passing. Now, instead, he had the silence inside the transport and the billion voices in his mind telling him that he should try to escape, while others told him to just do as he was told and yet others contemplated conspiracy theory on top of conspiracy theory, to explain this bizarre day.

Braedon fully expected that every single male passenger was going through the same torment, self-inflicting madness upon themselves as their minds raced to figure out what was happening and what each of their fates would be. Even if they survived the VYrus outbreak through the week, who could say what the government had planned for them? Would they simply collect DNA samples from them and then isolate them until they die from VYrus? Perhaps they wouldn’t even give them the chance to become infected and they’d simply dispose of their bodies after they got what they needed from them. What if they already had got what they needed and they were already headed to their graves?

Without warning, Braedon was launched forward as he heard a maddening scream from behind him. As his head slammed into the steel pole running up from the floor, agents from the front of the bus jumped into action, unholstering their sidearms to subdue the male passenger. Immediately, Braedon felt a massive jolt of pain go through his brain as he made contact and his vision went double. Stumbling around in pain, dizzy, and bleeding from his wound, Braedon struggled to avoid getting hit again. This was futile though since the last thing he was aware of was a large solid object coming down on his back as everything went black.

Meanwhile, the father-in-law, as fortunate as he could be, given the circumstances, had an uneventful ride to his destination. As it turned out, most of the other men riding with him either didn’t speak English very well or seemed to be more interested in irritating the agents on the transport, peppering them with question after question. Having become accustomed to a very noisy extended family, he quickly tuned out the chatter and decided it best if he took a nap. It could well turn into a very long day, and he’d be thankful to feel rested.

“Mother Goose, this is Milk Man 6. Copy…”

“This is Mother Goose, go Milk Man 6. Copy…”

“Mother Goose, we have a cracked egg in our carton. Copy…”

“Milk Man 6, is the egg white still viable? Copy…”

“Mother Goose, confirming egg white is viable. Egg will be sunny side upon arrival. Copy…”

“Confirming Milk Man 6, egg white is viable. Cracked egg will be handled with care. Copy…”

The lead female agent on the transport put down the radio and stood watch as the female agent trained as an EMT tended to Braedon’s head wound and monitored his vitals. Things had calmed down considerably after the male that lost control was neutralized with a dart filled with a powerful paralytic agent. After seeing such a large man, who looked to be over 300 pounds of muscle, drop like a sack of potatoes in seconds, no one else gave escape a second thought. On a positive note, Braedon was the only one who managed to get some sleep during the remainder of the trip, well aside from the sack of potatoes.

About an hour later, Milk Man 6 rolled up to the gate of the quarantine facility. After the lead agent showed her badge to the camera outside, the gates opened, and traffic lane lights illuminated the pavement, indicating the path to take. As Milk Man 6 approached the passenger unloading bay, a pair of medics with a stretcher and triage backpack walked up to the deck.

Once Milk Man 6 came to a stop, the window slats were opened and the agent tending to Braedon assisted the medics in extracting Braedon from the transport vehicle and onto the stretcher. As the medics moved the still-unconscious Braedon via stretcher into the building, a team of personnel walked over to the transport, and one by one the other men were escorted into the building as well.

Finally, the lead agent on the transport and the EMT drew a blood sample from the tranquilized man and analyzed it on a portable scanner. Three minutes later, the result indicated on the screen “POSITIVE FOR VYRUS ANTIBODIES”. The lead agent dismissed the other two agents from the transport and radioed for biohazard disposal. The man would never be seen or heard from again and his family would be sent a pre-formatted letter informing them he succumbed to the ravages of VYrus.

Day 2:

The next day, Braedon woke up groggy, starving, and with a dull pounding in his head. Looking around, he saw concrete walls covered in clear plastic. When he tried to roll onto his side to get more comfortable, he found that he couldn’t move his arms or legs. With the thick blanket covering him up to his chest he was unable to see what held him. Determined to get free, Braedon began to gradually drag the blanket down until he finally saw the bonds holding his wrists to the bed rails.

Testing the bonds, he realized that they had left enough slack for him to tuck his thumb into his palm and pull part of his hand through the cuff. The cuffs were still too tight to get out of though and his pudgy hand was getting stuck. Determined to get loose, Braedon rotated and pulled on his wrist just enough to force the bones to dislodge, which had the effect of narrowing the flesh of his palm enough to squeeze past the opening of the cuff.

A little more careful tugging through the cuff and his hand slid out the other end. Flexing the muscles in his forearm made the wrist snap itself back into place. He wasted no time removing the cuff from his other wrist, followed by his ankle cuffs.

Braedon was thankful that his head was pounding enough to drown out the pain from his hand that was red and swollen from freeing the first wrist. He still didn’t have a plan for what he was going to do or where to go, since there was a solid metal door with a safety glass window blocking his exit. As he swung his feet off the side of the bed, he heard the door click and a short slender female with tight curled blonde hair in a grey doctor’s coat stepped inside.

“I see you’re awake finally Mr. Owens. I’m Dr. Wrenstich. What is the last thing you remember?”

Braedon told her the last thing he recalled was sitting on the transport and the blinds of the windows shut and lights turned on inside the vehicle.

“I see. Well, it appears that you may have some memory loss from the head injury you sustained. We’ve already taken the liberty of ordering a head CT as well as X-rays of your cervical and thoracic spine and there was no evidence of any permanent damage. As for your restraints…”

Dr. Wrenstich gave Braedon a slightly annoyed look. “I don’t think they will be necessary since you’ve already removed them. Though it looks like your wrist and hand may have been injured at some point after you were admitted here. I’ll order an X-ray of your hand and prescribe you an anti-inflammatory to take down the swelling. We’ll check in on you tomorrow and if there are no additional issues, you will continue through in-processing with your group.”

At this point, the doctor handed Braedon his discharge paperwork and instructed him to follow the navigation markers. Confused, he stood up, feeling a bit wobbly on his feet, and walked to the door the doctor had left open. Standing at the doorway he heard the wristband that had been placed on his left wrist, chime twice and then a chasing light pattern appeared on the hallway floor.

Braedon figured this was likely what the doctor was referring to and began to follow the lights down the hall. It seemed this wristband didn’t just track location and give directions, as he heard a sensual sounding, pleasant feminine voice on the wristband announcing where to turn and how far till intake processing.

He couldn’t quite help but become aroused the more he heard the woman’s voice as he approached the destination. By the time he arrived at intake processing he was definitely walking with a third leg and despite his best attempts, it wouldn’t stay tucked out of sight. “Go figure! One of a small percentage of men still alive and the first impression I’m going to give is that I’ve got a one-track mind down at the bottom of my hospital gown. Oh well, I guess bottoms up!” As he pushed the door open and walked in, he was greeted by stares from the female staff, and the group of men processing in shook their heads like they knew this wouldn’t go well for Braedon.

A medical receptionist instructed Braedon to step forward and motioned for him to extend out his hand so she could scan his wristband. When he passed the wristband across the counter it flashed green-blue-red-blue-green-green-green. The technician then directed Braedon to walk through a security portal which turned on the chasing lights tied to the location tracking on his wristband. The next stop was a doctor in a grey coat.

Reading the charting for Braedon, she asked him to lower his pants and underwear, to which Braedon responded that he wasn’t wearing any. At this, the doctor turned her head and saw he was in a hospital gown and said, “Ah yes! That’s right, you are the one they took down to the infirmary after that little scuffle on the ride over here. Let’s have a look-see, and make sure you don’t have any groin injuries or abnormalities.”

As her eyes dropped from Braedon’s face to focus on the reproductive examination, she noticed what could be a protrusion. Figuring he’s just a little excited from everything that’s happened in his first day here, it’s likely a minor erection. Her assumption was quickly proven invalid when she reached with her gloved hand inside his gown and instead of getting a handful of testicles a very large and very long appendage blocked access to the testicle sack. Using her other hand to lift his manhood up and out of the way she was shocked by the sheer massive size and even the weight of the erection.

“Well, your wife must be the luckiest woman in the world having all this to herself!” to which Braedon couldn’t help but turn beet red. The doctor continued with the exam, asking Braedon to turn his head and cough, then the other way and cough. “Okay, everything seems to be in order, and you appear to be in excellent health. I’m done with your examination now, so you can continue to the next station.” Before removing her hand though, she smiled at him and gave him a single quick tug down his entire length. “This is definitely a detail I leave out when I tell my wife what happened here,” Braedon thought to himself.

Continuing on to the next station indicated by the chasing lights, Braedon couldn’t get the image of the doctor smirking up at him as she copped a feel. This wasn’t helping him to calm down at all, and when he approached the next doctor, he couldn’t help but suspect the previous doctor had told the next doctor in line what to expect. After all, with the grin on the doctor’s face going practically ear to ear, she had to know.

“Hello, Mr. Owens! Are we having a great morning or what today?! First the complimentary continental breakfast and now you get to see your favorite medical professional, your dental hygienist! If you could just take a seat this will be about 10 minutes of bliss while I complete your dental cleaning.”

Chuckling and smiling, Braedon couldn’t ignore the irony and how mistaken he and the dentist were, but he wasn’t going to complain. After all, as far as he was concerned, he had been a perfect gentleman the whole time and had nothing to weigh on his conscience.

After the dental cleaning, something Braedon had never found pleasant in the past, the remainder of the testing for the week continued to get more exhaustive and definitely not fun in the slightest. One good thing was that being so worn out from the grueling schedule of testing that he didn’t have another growth spurt, at least not while in the presence of the staff. His dreams were a completely different matter, with the kinky doctor being still vivid in his thoughts.

Continued in Chapter 3: Family Planning The Perfect Wives