Red Daddy: Ceres Station Pandemic

One girl said her husband had taken naked pictures of her a few years before, and I wondered what was up since she looked like she was maybe 20 or 21, my age. She said, no, she was 29.

Either my sense of what age people looked was off, or something was happening.

One of the women suggested we start documenting things, which proved tremendously entertaining.

First, we all got naked.

Going through each person, we all recorded in a spreadsheet estimates of each other's apparent age, apparent physical fitness level, rating of crows-feet around the eyes on a scale of 0 to 100, and body wrinkles.

This estimation wasn't scientific enough, she said, and we moved on to numerical measurements. Putting a set of towels on the floor, each person attempted a set of yoga moves that tested flexibility, or at least range of motion, strength enough to do push-ups, pull-ups (using a clothes-hanging bar to hang), and planks, then taking 3-D photos of women standing with arms at the sides and reaching overhead, specifically to determine location and size of areolas and nipples.

Dafne suggested (and I loved) the idea of testing breast resiliency by laying face down with arms outstretched across a gap to see how breast shape elongated vs. lying on their backs. The variation in height was chartable, and from a purely observational point of view, I found that breasts that I could squeeze with a hand head-on that were more or less firm did indeed reflect in higher numbers for variation in the laying facing up vs. down.

Somewhere in the middle of this we had lunch.

Watching all the women, naked, right in front of me, got me interested, or, shall we say, horny, so I took a small breather and went to the bedroom. At Dafne's urging, then, I wore a condom again.

After I came and rolled off to relax, someone did a clean-up and I took a little nap for an hour.

When I came back out into the room, everyone was dressed again and getting ready to go. Dafne described that they'd used the 'turkey-baster' method (really a pipette so it was more complex than that) and a speculum to deposit an equal amount of sperm from the condom into each of the 12 women there (some more hand shown up while I was sleeping).

Most of them wanted a hug and a kiss from me before they left. It was as close as I ever came to some of them, despite knowing now that 100% of these inseminations were successful. But, I'm getting ahead of myself.

Once they were gone, a new set of women arrived, and we did measurements on them, at Dafne's direction. She submitted this set of people a scientific paper to Davida's account, citing previous photographs and measurements taken of these women in previous years both for clothing measurement-reasons (bra shops and spacesuit tailors apparently did this regularly). The conclusions were that all of the women tested had regressed in physical age towards a target age immediately post-teens, 18 to 21, regardless of the age at which they started.

A few of the newer group, like the older group, had already recognized changes, but they hadn't been certain and figured it was the drastically increased workloads they were being asked to perform given that so many men had died that nearly every single job was short-staffed and overworked.

Dafne's write-up, she promised them, would request they return to this room one week from then to repeat the measurements. Or, if they were in a location where that would be difficult, they were given directions for repeating the tests with high confidence.

Dinnertime came and went, with excellent food ordered for everyone.

After dinner, though, we had an urgent, hard knock on the door.

Someone let them in -- it was Ev! We gave each other big hugs, and she noted that the room was amazing (she'd not seen one in person).

I complimented her on her Engineer's jumpsuit colors and shiny purple badge designating her as critical personnel. She said she'd been submerged in analyzing systems to find how all the things put together, and had passed tests she didn't know existed to get there.

"But, why the night visit?"

"I have a gift for you."

From her backpack, she pulled a box. The long rectangular box made me first suspect what it was, and then, Boom, it was -- the applicator I'd requested!

She was beaming. She'd named it, and yes, even from the beginning it was called the Dunbang, partially after me and partially because it'd be a Bang-Handy device to have (with the emphasis on Bang as a euphemism for sex).

She pulled some parts from complex systems, she said, so it was probably worth a lot of money and I shouldn't lose it.

We all laughed. It was an odd shaped dildo with a realistic phallic shape, complete with glans, and some lights on the base.

"Here's what you do. Turn it upside down, head down into a pool of ejaculate, of possible, or any small amount of it. Vacuum and microfluidics will pull in only ejaculate, and not pee or sweat in any significant measure. The ejaculate is then combined with an artificial seminal fluid from a fatty-acid and protein synthesizer," [reload it here from spit, anyone's spit, she said, and we laughed], "and the ejaculate is supercharged with a lubricant that is much easier for spermatozoa to swim through. Then, press this button and wait for it to turn green, and insert it into a willing participant (everyone raised their hands with giant giggles)."

One gal gave voice to the question on everyone's mind, "And?"

"The top here, it maps out where the cervix is, where the opening is -- called the 'external os' - pronounced 'oz' - looks about like the male pee-hole." She grinned, like she was deliberately not using the word urethra.

"Finding the os, it injects the right amount in through the opening with a squirt calculated to not damage the cervical tissue but sufficient to paint it across the upper portion of uterine walls. From there, your little swimmers go to work the normal way, and maybe if the timing is right, there's a pregnancy."

Dafne had more of a commanding position in the group, and she spoke up. "But... you said, 'the right amount'...?"

"Oh, yeah! That was some cool code I wrote this morning while I was waiting for a version to roll off the 3-d printer. The fluidic sensors -- I just stole some from a renal function sensor and used the code from a seminal fluid sperm-density counter -- figure out how many sperm there are per microliter and adjust the dilution to optimize things. It's a work in progress; this thing will track with 3-D sensors how the sperm are able to swim if you leave it inside for a few minutes, and after it adjusts, the machine learning algorithms will make later uses much more accurate."

Daf continued, "How many...?"

I chuckled and interrupted, "Daf is wondering how many because my volume is way up compared to normal, and we think I had about 20 milliliters in one go, this morning."

Daf corrected me, "Afternoon."

Ev thought about it, opened her pad, and said, "You could get ... somewhere over... 45 doses, then."

My jaw dropped. "Per... ejaculation?"

"Yep."

I nodded.

Ev said, "You are going to make a shit-ton of money on this, Red."

I was confused. "Really?"

"Sure! You get paid for every single impregnation you assist with. Plus, a government credit for each 'honest attempt', which does not include this kind of method, I'm sure. But, it's worth a shot."

Ev was tall and kind of lanky, and I thought she might be interested in using the device herself, so I asked.

The laugh was fast. "No. NO. Not interested. I know, great money, all that. I like the idea in the abstract. I have a shot of being upper management for this hab -- this whole freakin' spinner -- myself, by next year. I'm not messing that up. Plus, keeping people alive. I saved two people yesterday when a seal broke on a topside airlock. If they hadn't put their suits on when I saw the pressure drop and hit their alarm-bells? They'd have been dead. I know no one else was looking for that failure mode, and it saved lives. I just gotta stick to that."

"What do I owe you for this thing?"

"This? Bragging rights. Mention me to someone, if it works. It's a fun contraption. Might work, might not... Well, honestly, it'll almost certainly work, it's got machine-learning core chips that self-train after every iteration, it'll only get better."

She bounced around a bit and talked with the other women, asking odd questions about whether they heard or felt pressure changes lately, and then kissed me and left.

When I say she kissed me, she kissed me on the lips. I wasn't expecting that, but I kissed her back. She winked at me as she walked out the door, so I didn't know what that meant.

Dafne had a friend who was a mechanical engineer, and called her down, but in the meantime I was horny and just took two attractive gals to the bedroom while the others watched some popular entertainment, a singing talent competition in which all the participants had to eat super-hot peppers doused in pure ethyl alcohol, immediately before going onstage.

One of the women, Ureet, had super-puffy nipples, and I played with them for quite a while as the other one first sucked, and then rode me. Ureet's distractions aside, she unrolled a condom on me and took over the ride. Her coming helped me to come, for sure, but I wasn't entirely sure hers was genuine.

After I relaxed and Ureet got off, she pulled the condom off and then sat down on me while I was still cum-covered, rode a couple of times, and invited the other girl to do the same, all while still holding the full condom.

Ureet handed off the condom to Dafne and came back to lick me clean. I read on my phone for a while, then went back in to find that several of the girls had gone to bed, and some had turned upside down. Dafne was very busy writing on her phone, typing as fast as her fingers could touch the tabletop. She had started another scientific paper on the efficacy of the device.

I gave her a kiss goodnight, downed a quick OJ, brushed my teeth, and went to bed.

== Chapter: Donations ==

The middle of the night romp had a condom, and the one in the morning did, too, but I wasn't complaining given how beautiful they were.

Around breakfast time, there was a knock on the door and who should show up but the restaurant / diner owner, Preet!

Preet came in full chef's outfit with a pair of carts behind her. She said she'd been contacted by the station security and asked to cater my meal to me, paid for, since they had rumors of people intending to take off days of work to just hang around at her diner, on the off chance of meeting me.

We all laughed. Daf wasn't out of her room at that point, but when she did come out, I noticed she and the girl she came out with were both naked.

This surprised Preet -- her rapid inhale made for laughs around the room. I said, "Preet? In honor of your cooking for us today, we're all going to help you feel at home. Everyone?!? Naked!"

I stepped away from the table and pulled off my clothes, and rapidly everyone else did, too, laughing all the while, and Preet was caught in the focus of laughter, which she echoed back at us with a smartass, "Well! Fine! Be that way!" Stepping back herself, she pulled off her top, pants, and underwear, but left her chef's hat and shoes on. She added, "Culinary rules, you see."

We didn't' believe her, but it was funny and got a laugh.

Her buckwheat pancakes with blueberries, apple tart, and fluffy cheese omelets made for an excellent breakfast. I wondered when it'd happen again, and she said she was on-call for the whole week, but she'd be going back with a sign that said, "Catered Red Today Early / No Red Visit Today" if it was okay with me.

I said fine. She filled up the fridge with leftovers and left, having gotten dressed again and a big hug from me and Dafne both.

Sitting around after breakfast, all of us (the table was big enough), I raised the idea that I'd like to do something useful with my life besides making sperm.

This got some laughs, but I could see it was diffusing-tension laughter, since that was the reason all of the women except Dafne were there.

Pam, a different Pam I'd not met before but one who I later got in contact with again, asked, "Well, you're not going to be allowed to go topside, for damn sure, but if you're doing intellectual work it'd probably be okay. What are your talents?"

"Student. Mechanical engineering major, sophomore. Wanted to do something related to ag engineering, I liked the fish stuff, but ... scuba is high risk, too, and I'd never get permission to do that, either."

Daf chimed in, "Hold on. Scuba isn't so high risk. If you're in a hard shell, or a bathysphere, you're really safe, and that stuff can go almost everywhere."

I thought about it. "Ceres has 1/40th of a G, so... no bends until I get to... 3 kilometers deep, free diving. None of the caverns is anywhere close to that."

Daf smiled at me, then shook her head like she was clearing a fog. "Still. We're crazy. No way they'll let you near anything but a padded room for a while, until you can make a nice big supply."

"Plus, I'd need to work out. I'm still kind of weak, but I'm feeling better."

"You should work out."

"No shit."

"Football?"

"Just go running, Red. Do some weights. No games until they can monitor your systems better. As it is, they'll have a full sensor band on you."

Pam said, "No way you're getting in and out of a gym without overcrowding. You should call ahead."

This was a plan. I had something to do.

We got dressed (okay, workout clothes), and I found my running underwear, my 'runderwear', was too small by about double. I couldn't run. Weights would be good, though.

Dafne tracked down the closest gym and 10 of the 12 women and I headed out. We took an elevator down to the 1.2 G level and walked a little to the gym. We got some side looks from passers-by but no one mobbed us.

Walking in the gym, the place was about 10% full, which is to say 40 or 50 women spread out in the big room among the different weight machines, treadmills, rowing and elliptical, yoga mats, etc. I would have guessed it was normal for a mid-morning, but I was hardly the expert. I'd gone to do sports over by my university area before, but all those sports were gone now.

I was the only guy there, obviously. As we walked in, the attendant looking at me very oddly, but we laughed about it -- we must have made an odd sight indeed, a rare guy, being followed by 10 women, two of whom were in robes instead of workout gear.

Starting my workout by donning all the 'required' (totally optional except for Pam and Dafne and the others insisting on it) medical sensors from a nearby bin, I told them all they had to wear them, too, I wanted to see everyone working up a sweat.

Walking on the treadmill for 20 minutes, I got tired and decided to head over to the weights area and start a lifting set, per an analysis of my fitness levels my wearable med sensors told me was prudent.

The women around me were working out, like I'd said they should, but that translated to using some machines that were just really damn sexy to watch them on. Laying down and doing leg curls, making their butts tense up? Fuck yeah! Bench presses and leg presses? OH, Hell Yeah!

The two girls who were in robes had their hands under their robes a lot of this time, and I knew they were getting and staying ready for me should the mood strike.

I wondered, could I just go ahead and have sex, right there in the middle of the workout room?

Looking around, I saw a lot of the women that had been there had moved to be on machines near me. Daf was near me. I called her over to me as if to help spot me, even though I was doing weight machines, not free weights. I said quietly, "If I got naked in here, and started having sex, they would get a show for free, all around, right?"

She laughed at me and rolled her eyes. "Yup. On the other hand, you could tell them all what to do, and they'd have to do it. Kinda like being a SAG leader in a GA. Your word carries it. More than that, if you get to be known as a hardass, people won't want to follow you around all the time."

I stood, my erection straining my runderwear. "I'm not going to be a jerk. They made that plain the first day, I don't want that. I'd end up with unattractive people coming to be my consorts, relief, and I really like having pretty relief."

The girls in robes were walking up to me, and noticing my bulge. "Sir?"

I nodded, "About time."

Daf asked, "Here?"

She had a point, we were in the middle of some weight machines, but I decided the idea that all prohibitions against public nudity had been dropped, so I was going to use that. I pulled off my shirt, and said (loudly enough so all the girls I came with could hear me), "Okay. All off. Everybody get naked. It'd be nice to have some inspiration."

Pulling my underwear off carefully so my cock didn't get caught on the waistband, the girls in robes draped them over nearby bench.

Around me, everyone, not just the girls I came with, had heard the instruction, and (despite my having plausible deniability over just intending to speak with the girls I came with) they were all stripping off, too.

One of the two formerly-robed, Jess, dropped to her knees and started a blowjob. I was busy watching that, but also glancing around just enough to see what was happening.

It was WORKING! All the other girls were getting naked, too! This was too much to believe. Sure, they were sweaty, probably, but I was just looking, and I couldn't smell them from that far away anyway.

Something started happening, though. The more ones that were closer came in and knelt on the carpet near some of the others, just staring adoringly at my cock getting a blowjob. As this went on, more and more moved that way, and of those who were sitting on haunches, most soon had legs parted and were massaging their bits, pulling on nipples, and looking at me with some increased desperation.

Dafne was sitting to my side on a weight machine bench, and she spoke up. "Red? Uh... I can smell you."

I looked over, her nipples were super-erect and her expression was very noticeably concerned, in a frustrated sexy-want way. I could see some of her leg muscles flexing with the strong desire to touch herself, but she was resisting it. I told her, "Looks like you're... horny, there, Daf."

"Oh, God, you know it. I can smell you from here. You're... delicious. There's ... an aura around you, like... power. Like, you're exuding power."

"I don't feel powerful."

"Fuck, I ... feel it." She stopped resisting, bringing her hips to the edge of the seat and starting to masturbate freely, her other hand pulling on her breast, her nipple getting twisted and pulled, and she started moaning.

She wasn't the only one moaning.

The other gal (not blowing me) was on a bench already, an inclined one, her legs apart and pulled up and waiting for me. Her breasts were moving with faster breathing, rising and falling. As I walked up, I saw goose pimples rising and crenulations on her areola, a deeper relief-structure that I just wanted to suck.

Having a more urgent need, though, I lowered myself and pushed in, then up, in a smooth motion. As I did, I knew all those behind me could see my butt going down, and probably even my cock going in this oh-so-fine piece of ass. Her triangle of hair, black but trimmed short, pointed directly at a hard clit that was well proud of its hood.

I knew as I pushed and settled onto her more that the top of my cock was grinding that clit as I bottomed out on each stroke, and her moans backed up that idea.

She wasn't the only one making noise. Though it had started out with low murmurs of comments, the crowd around me started making more noise as time went on. I sped up briefly in fast-motion-slamming, then slowed again to grind it up and into her. The tenor of the room rose in pitch slightly as I did that, a kind of collective, "Ooooo, yessss...".