The Way Things Are

Zsere stretched, yawning, and reached up a hand to rub the sleep out of her eyes. The blankets and sheets were scattered around her body and, she reflected in the morning light filtering through the blinds, probably needed a wash soon.

She sighed, not wanting to get up. She shifted her leg, feeling one of her enormous testicles roll off onto the mattress, grimacing as sensation flooded back into her thigh. Tallo always warned her about letting her parts cut off her circulation, but it wasn't as if she could do anything about it while she was asleep. It's just the way things are.

She sat up, stretching more, her legs splaying further around the huge mass of her scrotum and the thick stem of her cock drooping across it. She gathered them up in her hands, swinging her legs off the bed and gently lowering them between her thighs, before reaching for her tablet on the bedside table.

This was a rare morning, one when she didn't have morning wood. It was kind of nice to just wake up gradually every once in a while instead of having to stumble around the house with her enormous erection bobbing to and fro, desperately searching for one of her harem-mates.

She brought up the morning news. The Greater London Gazette it proclaimed, 21st January, 2473. She hadn't been born in Greater London, but her mother had moved them there when Zsere was 14, when the Council had made her a better offer of support for Zsere than the Sydbourne Commonwealth, which produced far more than its fair share of hypers.

Her mother had always considered Zsere her ticket to comfort, when her industry was phased out back in the fifties and she'd been made redundant. She never quite gotten over the destruction of broadcast TV for DigiNet. She'd managed to get pregnant just beforehand, and nine worried months living on the dwindling redundancy payment later she was overjoyed to find her daughter was a hermaphrodite.

Zsere hadn't really had a regular education, since it wasn't as if hermaphrodites would ever have to worry about getting a job. She'd been allowed to read whatever she liked, though, and that tended to be history, especially the history of her breed.

Humanity used to have two genders; normal women and a strange sort of person called "men." Zsere remembered asking her mother why those weird-looking hairy herms in the books didn't have any boobs. Sometime in the late 21st century, though, they started disappearing. Men used to be born as often as women, but the rates started shifting in favour of women to the point where only one man was being born for every ten, fifty, a hundred women. The Global Parliament hadn't had any power at that time, though, so they weren't able to get the world to do anything about it until it was almost too late.

2102 marked the Shift; the first year no men were born. None the year after that, either. One man was born in 2104, but after that, nothing but women.

The first Global Parliament convened over the threat to the ongoing existence of humanity. A bioresearch lab in the Sydbourne Commonwealth (then called "Australia") brought what they said was the solution forward to the Parliament; a highly infectious airborne virus that would genetically engineer a small but significant number of women into being able to procreate.

They'd rejected it, of course. It was dangerous. It was insane. Genetic engineering was well-trodden ground at that point, but never on that sort of scale. It would take over a decade of human testing. After months upon months with no forthcoming solutions, with the lab bringing their results back every single sitting and rejected every time, they decided to take it into their own hands for the future of society.

The Virus was unleashed without much fanfare in the summer of 2105. It was subtle. It wove its genetic magic through inheritance. It was virulent, too; doctors were picking up traces of the odd virus halfway across the planet within months. By the time the Parliament had realised what was happening, it was too late.

It seemed to work, at least at first. Roughly one in six new children born to those infected were born with seemingly-functional male genitals above their female. The doctors responsible accepted surreptitious praise from their jail cells. It seemed like humanity was going to be able to continue on at last.

Zsere stood up, grimacing as the weight of her sack dropped down to her knees. The foot-long length of her flaccid dick followed. It was a stark reminder to her that things didn't always go as planned.

She carefully padded over to her dresser, grabbing out one of her ball-bras, an astonishing counter-levered contraption that went under her nuts and strapped down around her thighs and all the way up to her shoulders, a second, regular bra built in at the top. Most hypers claimed they were more comfortable without one, but Zsere had never gotten used to the sensation of the pendulous weight of her testicles slapping against her knees and thighs with every step. It had always felt wrong to her, a sign of something that simply shouldn't be, that she wasn't built for this life. Her cock, though, remained free; it was considered obscene for a hermaphrodite to hide or cover her penis.

Zsere was slim, pale and pretty; around five-five with long blond hair. Natural, of course, because nanocosmetics didn't work well at all on hermaphrodites. She had a small button nose, big bright eyes and slim legs, with a pair of pert C-cup breasts perched on her chest.

The door to her bedroom slid aside as she walked over to it, leading into her apartment. It was a large apartment, of the sort that had become incredibly common since the Shift, although much nicer than most. Hypers were so in demand that they tended to live very, very well.

Jarani was standing in front of the fridge with a bowl of cereal, nude, her huge breasts visible from behind. Hypers really had their pick of the litter as far as harems went, and Zsere liked them busty; not a one of her harem was below a G-cup. Jarani was fit and tan, with a short haircut undershaved on one side, bright pink from nano-cosmetics. She was a personal trainer during the day. Not a physical trainer, the advent of nanocosmetics and other health maintenance biomachines ensured that for a somewhat reasonable sum no woman really had to go about in anything but her ideal body. Jarani was a sort of life-coach and image consultant who helped women take and maintain a position in a good harem.

Zsere felt the tell-tale tingles running up through her dick and the shuddering sensation in her balls as her body started cum production. There was really never any escaping it. No matter how much all she wanted to do was hang out with one of her girls, chat over a morning coffee or just cuddle and watch a holovid, even just being around one of her harem-mates took an effort of will not to start getting hard unless she'd literally just came. Sometimes she felt like she never had a single social interaction that didn't start with an orgasm.

She couldn't even really just ignore her erections. Old lessons died hard, and the constant refrain for all herms was the classic "Never waste an erection. Do your duty." Besides, she trusted her girls, but there was always the outside chance one of them would take offence at a missed opportunity for Zsere do "do her duty" and turn her in to the Council. It wasn't as if regular women were any less a slave to their desires, the constant hunger for sex and the gnawing emptiness of not being pregnant.

When you wreak havoc with the human genome, there's always the chance for error. It may not even have been error; it could have been a rogue member of the lab who developed the Virus. It didn't take long after its release before women began noticing it was harder to conceive. Widespread testing found that every woman was becoming less fertile. Strangely, though, their sex drives were increasing, and STDs appeared to be dying out. The Virus had created a world of women nearly impossible to impregnate, impervious to disease, who craved sex. Masturbation began to lose its effectiveness, too, with many women beginning to complain that they only felt more aroused after bringing themselves to orgasm, if they could even orgasm from self-stimulation at all any more.

Women's biological clocks went into overdrive as well. Every woman began to keenly feel it as an ache at the back of their mind, an existential yearning that in times of weakness could be enough to drive one to tears, that only went away when they finally fell pregnant.

It was when the hypers first appeared that people knew that something very, very wrong had happened. Most of the transformed girls developed only slightly larger than what was considered normal for men at the time; seven-inch penises on average by full development around sixteen, with very healthy sex drives. A small number, though, around one in a hundred, had their bodies see fit to hyperaccelerate their development.

Zsere was one of those "lucky" few. Forget seven inches by sixteen, she was sporting seven inches within two months of starting puberty. Her mother had been overjoyed, of course; if a hermaphroditic daughter was a ticket to comfort, then a hyper was winning the lottery. By sixteen she'd reached her final size, a stunning two and a half feet long when erect and thicker than her forearm. Her testicles followed closely, too, each the size of watermelons by the time she'd stopped developing.

Doctors had attempted to reverse the effects of the Virus, of course, back when its effects first became known. Whoever on the original team had developed it, however, they had not only designed a gene-modifying retrovirus of stunning efficacy, but also a rudimentary artificial intelligence. The Virus protected itself. It adapted. Evolved. It was capable of tremendous manipulation to the goal of fulfilling its programming; everything from the infertility to the sex drives to the women sporting two-foot dicks appeared to have been somebody's intent.

Years of efforts to fight it having failed, it was accepted that this was the way things were. The dwindling male population and the growing number of penis-equipped girls had the task of sustaining humanity in the face of mass infertility and the mass craving to conceive, which meant sex, as often as possible.

Zsere started to advance toward Jarani. She pressed her hips against Jarani's pert, muscular ass cheeks, her hands moving up to squeeze deeply into the girl's soft, tan breasts. She squealed lightly, smiling and putting down the cereal bowl.

"Gooood morning," she purred. "See something you like?"

Jarani played it cool, but Zsere knew that she was absolutely gagging for it. She'd been out most of the day yesterday, and got home too late for her evening fuck. It had to have been nearly a day and a half, so her body must have been screaming for someone to put a baby in it by now.

Thanks to the Virus, Zsere's immense size wasn't too much of an impediment to sex. Women were more flexible, their insides reshaped to take both normal and hyper-sized cocks, although Zsere was significantly larger than even the average hyper and was sometimes a struggle for regular women. What's more, women were far more sensitive both internally and externally, and any type of contact with semen was enough to result in impregnation; the more the better. That meant between their ability to stimulate two feet of a woman's throat or vagina and their ability to output half a gallon of cum, hypers were in great demand.

Zsere was at half-mast when Jarani turned around, squatting on the cold tile of the kitchen and starting to lap at the tip of Zsere's cock, her hands rubbing up and down the bottom of the shaft.

Part of being a good personal trainer was also a skilled hand with a cock. Of the myriad ways in which women marketed themselves to potential suitors, the ability to squeeze out huge, pleasurable orgasms was a classic plus. Jarani stopped for a moment, concentrating, flexing her hands in a strange motion, as Zsere watched bemusedly.

She gasped as she saw a clear, viscous fluid start to ooze from Jarani's skin and, as Zsere realised after Jarani returned her hands to her cock, warm and slick. She gasped as it tingled against her skin, Jarani's delicate hands massaging it into the slowly inflating head of her outsized dick and running her fingers along the ridge just behind where her head flared out.

"R-rani, is that..."

She gasped again as she was grabbed from behind. A pair of huge, warm breasts squished into her slim back, a pair of hands snaking around to trace across her stomach.

"Lube. You like it? She got it installed yesterday as a kind of test run for me."

Tallo's warm, deep voice washed over her, making her shiver and sending her knees weak. Her hand dipped down to just above where the stem of her cock projected out, sinking a pair of fingers into the spongy flesh and starting to massage.

"It's our newest product. Lubricant glands, so your lady will always be equipped for a warm, slick, sloppy handjob. It was Rani's idea, of course. What do you think?"

Zsere could only let out a guttural moan in response. Tallo was a geneticist, and probably one of the most skilled genetic manipulators in Greater London. She'd been a head developer at GenetiCon Global when she'd met Zsere and hit it off. She'd formed a plan the next day, and had the paperwork for a contract ready by that evening.

Now she, along with the other members of Zsere's harem, ran a specialist nanocosmetics boutique, and business was booming, through a combination of Tallo's skills, Jarani and Myd's perverted and inventive minds and Vardit and Caerell's organisational skills, along with a healthy home-grown supply of grade-A genetic substrate.

That was the other reason hypers were so valued by society. Hermaphrodite cum also happened to be an unparalleled means for mediating genetic change, far better than the ancient retroviruses of the 21st century. There was a synthetic variant but it wasn't anywhere near as effective as bioagents and nanocosmetics made from fresh cum. Nearly every facet of 25th century life, from the great algae-bank solar power plants to the mechanised farms to even the organic computational banks of modern computers relied on genetic construction, and that meant at the end of the day it all came back to cum.

They had a nice cozy harem, where all six girls had a happy purpose, made a lot of money and most importantly their nearly limitless appetites for sex were well-satiated.

Tallo had moved around in front of Zsere, her hands gripping the shaft of Zsere's lube-slicked cock, working around near the bottom while Jarani kept massaging the head and the underside just below. Tallo was tall, pale and curvaceous, with large soft J-cup breasts bound in a tight bra far too small for her endowments. Long black hair cascaded halfway down her back, framing a narrow face with dark eyes - her makeup permanently provided by custom nanocosmetics.

Jarani darted in hungrily and lapped at the slit, slipping in her tongue and French kissing Zsere's enormous urethra. Zsere was at full hardness now, shuddering with every weighty lurch of her two-and-a-half-foot dick. Tallo slipped a hand into one of the cups of her ball bra, massaging the hot mass.

"I still think you'd be so much sexier if you went commando, babe."

Zsere moaned at the touch, along with Jarani's ministrations, gritting her teeth and trying to answer. "B-but... I don't like it..."

"But you'd be so cute" Jarani removed her tongue from Zsere's cock, speaking and stroking lightly as Tallo kissed the top of her scrotum-cleavage "just letting it all hang out and down, those big sexy balls slapping into your legs..."

Zsere yelped, feeling the cum churning in her balls. It hurt a little, a sure sign that it had either been too long since she came or that she hadn't eaten and drunk enough. She had no intention of asking the girls to stop, though, and probably wouldn't have been able to even if she'd wanted. She could feel the yawning sensation at the end of her dick and the familiar hollowness in her stomach and strain on her muscles that meant she was close to orgasm.

By now her harem could recognise the signs of her orgasm from a mile away. With practically childlike glee they came in close to the tip, which bucked like a rodeo bull with each tug of Zsere's overdeveloped muscles, rubbing along the shaft and cooing lightly.

There was one more brief, horrible moment caught between pain and pleasure, as a thick load began to work its way out of Zsere's balls and position itself just below the base. Her muscles tightened for an agonising instant, and she came.

Thick cum erupted from the end of her dick, dousing the two girls in a torrent of pearly goo, splattering across their faces and down their chests. Tallo began working it into her breasts, moaning, while Jarani opted instead to catch as much as possible in her mouth and gulp it down. Jarani instantly started to shudder, screaming as a tremendous orgasm ripped through her body, mercilessly shredding what remained of her composure and causing her to collapse forward in a quivering heap. The very act of taking a load of cum was nearly orgasmic on its own at the best of times, and Jarani had been on a hair trigger.

Zsere managed to stay enough in control to stagger back on shaky legs before the next burst, catching Tallo directly in the face with another blast of hot cum, making the normally elegant girl squeal through a muffling layer of spunk, her hips bucking against nothing. The sensation was too much for Zsere, who fell backwards onto the tile floor just as another huge, cripplingly beautiful cumshot worked its way out, a vast rope of cum flying across the kitchen, striking the window and sending a spray of the stuff across the sink, the cabinets, the autostove, and a fair amount of it into Jarani's cereal.

Jarani crawled forward, moaning under the assault of cum-blasted pleasure, dragging her spasming body across Zsere's and pressing the girl's cock down between the pair, pushing the lurching trunk into Zsere's chest, the twitching head projecting up past her face. Jarani dragged her body along it, her cum-slicked breasts and wet pussy leaving hot trails along its length until her lips reached the tip. Straddling either side of it to hump her pussy against it, she pushed her mouth against the tip as if she were going to kiss it again.

Her cheeks inflated with the savage flow of cum from Zsere's next shot, but she was ready, her stomach rippling as she worked her muscles in a practised gulping motion. Jarani had always loved swallowing, to the point of working with Tallo on what got informally referred to around the office as the "cum dumpster" biomod package. On a good day, less addled by a day and a half without a cum, she could take down the entirety of one of Zsere's loads with barely spilling a drop. Even now, desperate and horny and in the throes of a killer orgasm, far more spooge was making its way down her needy throat than spraying out of the seal her lips made against the huge lurching cock-head.

She cuddled against the massive shaft like a favourite toy, suckling hard with each load of cum as Zsere fitfully writhed and arched beneath the weight of her dick, drooling in stupefied pleasure. Jarani finally fell off to the side, trailing cum from her mouth, slow rivulets of it still oozing to the floor as the cock gave out its dying throbs, letting out the last of its load. Her stomach was noticeably distended.

Tallo was the first to recover, pulling herself upright by the counter, nearly slipping on a cooling puddle of cum. "Well, I'd call that a complete success." She went over to a panel on the wall, brushing it lightly with her fingertips. Every surface in the kitchen shimmered for a moment, and the semen sluiced off, sliding down to the centre of the room where a small panel briefly opened and accepted the flow. She did nothing about the strings of cum on herself, though; it might well have been an old harem's tale but it was common to believe that the longer you left the cum on your body, the more time it had to work.