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Story In the Year 2041 | Short Story

shavvka

shavvka

Come, mister tally man, tally me banana
★★★★★
Joined
Oct 27, 2020
Posts
446
2250 words
Partly inspired by the stories of @Iamnothere000
Hope you enjoy it somewhat

--

Nothing could escape the look of Nicolaus Copernicus in the great hallway of the Robotnitsa High School. Many a freshman walked right under the portrait’s frames on the way to their classes, feeling goosebumps creep on their backs and their hair touching the soft-yet-firm fabric of their uniforms, trying desperately not to look at the painting for too long. Ben Rigby understood their feelings completely. There was nothing like ending your Friday refreshed and full of life only to meet eyes with a face which looked like it would have bitten your nose off had it been given a chance to do so. With each passing year, however, Copernicus’ bloody-red lips and paper-white skin scared Ben less and intrigued him more.

He looked to the left. There sat Kim Tiddle, all trembly. He couldn’t stop touching his crotch.

‘’Do you think‘’ -Ben pointed at the portrait, trying to take his friend’s mind off the upcoming test- ‘’Copernicus looked exactly like that?’’

‘’Like what? That?” Kim said, glancing at the painting and immediately looking back. ‘’No way. Had she looked like that, she would’ve never in a million years
convinced nobody that the Earth orbits the Sun.’’

‘’Maybe she scared them into submission.’’

‘’That’s one option.’’

‘’Is that why you’re all scared like that?’’

‘’Nah, that’s not it. I’ve seen that shit-eating painting one too many times to be scared of it. I just don’t like looking at it, that’s all.’’

‘’What’re you so scared of then?’’

‘’What do you think? I'm gonna give you three guesses, retard.’’

‘’The test?’’

‘’Bravo. Think a bit more and you might not need diapers the next time you go to bed.’’

‘’Why so edgy? Relax. You’re fine. How long’s your member?’’

‘’Last time I checked, it was six and a half. Seven on a good day. Today’s not a good day, though. And you?’’

‘’I didn’t check. Why bother? You won’t change it no matter how hard you try. Same with height. And eye color.’’

‘’That’s your entire future right there, though. Ain’t that making you nervous?’’

‘’Not any more nervous than the lovely lady in the frame right there.’’
Everyone chuckled. The feeling of some pressure leaving the atmosphere made Ben feel good and all fuzzy inside.

‘’Did I hear some laughs over there?’’ said Mrs Glowiak from the room the test was supposed to take place in. Her scratchy, whiney voice could not be mistaken for any other. ‘’I wonder how many laughs I’ll hear when the ruler meets the top of your filthy peckers. Five minutes!’’

The pressure came back in, doubling in force. Kim grabbed his crotch again; harder, it seemed. Some boys started walking around in their squeaky shoes on the squeaky floor. Some of them stayed seated where they were, finding solace in hiding their eyes in their palms.
Ben found it difficult not to agree with Kim on this one thing: the test they were about to go through in five minutes was their future. Some fifty years ahead of them determined by a ruler pushed into the bottom of their torso. Eighteen years behind them just as easily erased by the back of their head pressed against the wall. Decades decided by inches. To not be nervous during those five minutes was to be as alive as Copernicus on the wall. Ben's crotch felt heavy. When he closed his eyes, he could feel his heart putting his entire body into motion; like a muscular man spinning with a hammer in the middle of his ribcage, never throwing it. He tried to slow it down. No more motion, like a statue. To no avail. It was as effective as putting a blanket on the everburning pits of Hell. He couldn’t ignore the heat, either. The shirt he was wearing glued itself to his skin with sweat. There was no point on his body that wasn’t itching, screaming for more air to breathe. Soon enough, sweat started raining from his forehead onto his eyebrows and then, ultimately, his eyes. He could feel each droplet making its way down his face; the first ones in their own manner, every other one following them suit. Each one of their roads was irritating him. He was ready to claw his face off right there. Right there.

The first name was called.

As the list was arranged alphabetically, Ben was safe for the time being. Nonetheless; when the first name dropped, he felt as though the sportsman that had been spinning the hammer for so long in the place of his heart finally threw the darned thing right through his ribs, crushing them to nothing and leaving an empty hole behind.

Then another name was called. The previous student left the room with a smile on his face and cotton-like legs. He sat down and started laughing through tears, saying something about the top of his head.

The next one wasn’t so lucky. He didn’t even have to leave the classroom to announce it. His panicked screams could’ve probably been heard in another district. Ben jumped when he heard those, as did everybody else in the hallway, as would every other person. The screams continued for a minute until a solid thump muffled them. After another minute, the poor bastard was silenced for good and the only sound that could be heard was a shuffle.

Another name was called. And another. The majority of people left the room quite satisfied. Some left the room stone-faced. One boy started crying as soon as he closed the door. There was no way of telling whether he was happy or not. With each name dropped, Ben felt the hole in his chest growing to unimaginable sizes. He was sure it would soon consume him from the inside. He couldn’t have felt any more hollow. Then it happened.

‘’Ben Jeremy Rigby,’’ said Mrs Glowiak.

‘’Good luck there, bro,’’ said Kim. When Ben looked into his trembling brown eyes, he knew he should have responded with something. A million words to say, yet nothing being said.

‘’Benjamin Jeremy Rigby, inside. Right now. Disobedience will result in automatic failure.’’

‘’Here I come, alright,’’ said Ben.

Kim wasn’t looking at him anymore.

‘’Here I come, indeed,’’ Ben murmured to himself.

He entered a parody of what he once considered the math classroom. Each desk and every chair were not to be seen, replaced with various measuring equipment, meant to catch and describe every pore on his skin. With nowhere to sit down, he stood on the large piece of white cloth laid carelessly in front of the commission’s desk. Three women, among whom old Mrs Glowiak, noted something down and stared at him with faces devoid of expression.

‘’Clothes off, now,’’ said Mrs Glowiak.

‘’J-Just like that?’’ asked Ben. ‘’No initial questions? No names? No-‘’

‘’We’ve already got your data. Any further questions will result in automatic failure. Clothes off, now.’’

At this point Ben could hear the beating of his own heart louder and clearer than he could hear the chat of the commission. Never before did he undress as carefully as he did at that moment. He felt as though he could take out each string of his shirt and set it aside, and he would have certainly done so, had there been no three hags assisting his every move with their merciless, empty stare.

‘’Proceed faster, Mr Rigby,’’ said Mrs Glowiak.

Ben bent over and began to take off his pants. He could feel the fat on his belly pulling downwards, hanging on his spine like a dumbbell on a rope. His legs were the fattest he had ever seen. The more of his body he was forced to watch, the more his heart bounced around his insides, getting into his neck and choking him, even.

Then it reached his guts, leaving them mixed and tangled. Then, finally, the pumping frenzy got to his head, giving it a pulsing ache, among which only three words could he recognise: ‘’No more, please.’’

‘’All clothes, Mr Rigby,’’ said Mrs Glowiak.

‘’Please, no more,’’ Ben thought to himself. The one-man freakshow was about to really begin.

‘’Let’s proceed,’’ said Mrs Glowiak, ‘’stand by the wall and face the window.’’

The two women left their chairs. Mrs Glowiak stayed where she sat, writing something down. Once Ben moved where he was supposed to, he felt the two women’s claws biting into his arms. They used the strength barely required not to leave a mark. One of them set his head up and neck straight.

‘’Hold still, now,’’ said the first woman. ‘’Alright. Height: six feet, two inches.’’

‘’Barely minimum,’’ said Mrs Glowiak, ‘’surely you can do better than that?’’

Ben had envisioned a pen digging deep into Mrs Glowiak’s bleeding eye socket numerous times before. A calming fantasy normally, a serious possibility at that time.

‘’Jaw: strong, domineering. An 85-degree angle, more or less. Nose: slightly big, but finely chiseled. Eyes: definite hunter-type. No signs of balding at either side of the hairline.’’

‘’So far so good,’’ said Mrs Glowiak after a sigh. ‘’Let’s get lower.’’

Shoulders: checked.

Wrists: checked.

Waist: checked.

Each body part checked ached no more. Each ache, however, found its new place to reside inbetween Ben’s thighs.

‘’Mr Rigby,’’ said Mrs Glowiak, ‘’you have gathered a satisfactory amount of points in the corporeal part of the test, meaning that you can advance to the next phase. Are you ready? Of course you are. Commence the measurement of genitals.’’

‘’Flaccid size: six inches in length, five inches in circumference’’ exclaimed one of the women. ‘’Scrotum size: five and a half inches in circumference.’’

‘’Once again, bare minimum. It is now time for you to perform the erection of your penis, Mr Rigby.’’

Erections on command was something Ben had always been good at. No test not passed without flying colours in that regard. No test apart from this one, it seemed. Every pleasant situation he tried to imagine always came back to Mrs Glowiak’s face and her ear-melting voice. Every stimulating pump only intensified the pain between his legs. After what seemed to be the longest minute of his life, he finally achieved the most painful erection he had ever had.

‘’One minute, three seconds,’’ sighed Mrs Glowiak. ‘’The necessary minimum is fifteen seconds. One more underperformance and the test will result in failure.’’

‘’If… If I could excuse myself,’’ said Ben, ‘’the test is very, very stressful. I’m afraid I-‘’

‘’No, you can not excuse yourself. As a potential male breeder, you are required to perform the erection of your penis at any given circumstance, no matter how stressful or scary the situation appears to be. The time taken for your performance signifies that you may not be suitable for the role. Also, I should not need to remind you that it is not the time for you to ask questions. Maintain your erection for the final inspection, if you would.’’

Ben tried to do exactly as he was told. Undoubtedly, in any other situation he would have been diamond-hard. No matter how much he tried to talk himself into being as big as every cell in his body allowed him to be, he could feel the blood pumping away from down there; the blood necessary for the woman with the measuring tape to not say:

‘’Erect size: six and a half inches in length, five and a half inches in circumference.’’

‘’The circumference is satisfactory,’’ said Mrs Glowiak, slightly more excited. ‘’The minimum required length, however, is seven inches. I regret to infrom you, Mr Rigby, that you have failed the test. We’ll be meeting tomorrow at 8 AM for the castration.’’

Initially, those words didn’t even feel real in Ben’s head. After repeating them over and over inside his mind, however, they started to become more concrete and serious. In turn, the more real they became, the less real Ben felt. He could feel neither his legs nor his arms; his stomach turned into a black hole, sucking his body out of existence piece by piece; nothing in his head apart from the words ‘’you have failed the test’’ on a loop; and outside a scream he didn’t even feel he made.

‘’No! No!’’ screamed Ben. ‘’No, please! Fuck, please! I can’t! I won’t! I won’t! Oh fuck, oh shit, oh fuck, oh fu-‘’

Mrs Glowiak’s assistants tried to prevent Ben from breaking anything while he went on a panicked stroll around the classroom. He sat on a chair once, then immediately got up and started walking some more, this time faster and louder. Ben himself didn’t know what he was doing; wherever his legs decided to go, he went there; wherever his arms decided to swing, he swung there; whatever his mouth decided to shout out, he screamed. He couldn’t keep any manners of the world, no matter how expensive the equipment he knocked down was. Only darkness inside his mind. Nothing to stop his walk of doom. Nothing to lose. No future. Only darkness. Inside his brain. Inside his heart. Slowly, but surely, in front of his eyes.

‘’This should keep him down for a while,’’ said Mrs Glowiak. Ben finally fell asleep. ‘’Now; Mrs Diggson, get the pig out of the sight and handcuff him to the radiator next to the previous one; Mrs Fletcher, hide the chloroform in the cabinet. Only... ten more to go.’’
 
that whas pretty good :feelscomfy: :feelscomfy:
:feelscomfy:

future sucks - future cucks
 
Your avi is scary ngl
 
Your avi is scary ngl
Pig lick
 
Verry well written.

You did a good job on describing the anxiety and panic. :feelsokman:
 
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It's very well written, you're certainly skilled.
I just have to say:...what in in the absolute fuck. This is so legitimately bizarre, I couldn't even look away. I knew it was gonna be some bullshit "penis inspection day" story but I didn't expect it to be so....well written....or absolutely insane.
I hate it, but I also want more. Good Job.
 
It's very well written, you're certainly skilled.
I just have to say:...what in in the absolute fuck. This is so legitimately bizarre, I couldn't even look away. I knew it was gonna be some bullshit "penis inspection day" story but I didn't expect it to be so....well written....or absolutely insane.
I hate it, but I also want more. Good Job.
Thanks lol I'm currently writing a second part, I'll tag you when it's ready :feelsokman:
 
Part 2, I decided to make a series out of it. I hope I get to write more frequently in the near future.
@Osentaku Otje
@Iamnothere000
@Sheepcel
--
The bus to the factory was crowded and hot, as usual. Some forty men were fighting for every inch of space with both of their hands and legs. Those unfortunate enough to get on one of the later stops were thrown around like a group of ragdolls, as more people tried to desperately squeeze in. The pressure. The stench. The noise. The noise was the worst and definitely the most difficult to get used to. The screams of those trampled on and the growls of those doing the trampling made the hearts of those canned inside go faster every time they occured. Louis McRoy had been working in the factory for almost a decade and it was still difficult for him to listen to it all, no matter how hard his face tried to hide it. Still, it was day as usual for him and some other old farts like him. There was, however, one sound that bothered him the most that day. Crying. Crying right next to his right elbow. The one making the noise was a handsome fella with a finely-chiseled chin and eyes which would have looked domineering had they not been covered in tears.

Louis felt that he had to do something with the boy, if only for the sake of his right ear.

''What are you crying for?'' asked Louis. ''Haven't seen you round here. New here, huh?''

''Yes, uh, sir,'' answered the fella. ''I just got here. I'm just... new... first day...''

He started crying again. Louis gave him a while and began again:

''Cry while you can, boy. You won't have it so easy at the factory.''

Only when this phrase escaped Louis' mouth did he realise how wrong it was to say it. The fella's crying intensified.

''You'll get used to it, though,'' said Louis. ''Everyone does, eventually. One day, you'll just stop crying.''

''When,'' said the fella, sobbing, ''when is that 'one day'?''

''Well... I stopped after a week or so. Can't remember. Been here for almost ten years.''

The fella started howling. After thinking about what he had said, Louis decided to stop talking altogether. However, he heard a shouting voice somewhere behind him:

''You either shut this faggot up or I'll kick you both queers out the bus myself!''

''Wanna see you try. Eat shit, retard,'' said Louis. He turned to the crying fella. ''You'd better shut up, though. You see how it is round here.''

The fella bobbed his head while sobbing. The bus went surprisingly silent without his howls.

''If it'll make you feel any better,'' said Louis, ''I can tell you what I did on my first day in the factory. I'm Louis, by the way. Wanna hear it?''

''Ben,'' said the fella, ''Ben Rigby. S-sure. Go ahead.''

''So, uh... When I was your age, maybe a little older, I got on, just like you, on the bus. It was my first day of work. Cried even harder than you did, like I had got pepper spray all over my face and asshole. Cried so hard, boy, that I didn't notice I had entered the wrong damn bus and, instead of arriving at the Rosa Luxemburg Adults' Toys Factory we're headed for now, my ass got off at a completely different place on the other side of the goddamn city.’’

‘’Really? Holy shit, were you scared?’’

‘’You bet. Thought they were gonna execute me or something. Fortunately, they went lax on me that time and only had me work double shift until the end of the week. Those were the days. Guess what I'm trying to say is: at least you're on the correct bus, boy. You are, right?''

''Yeah, I double-checked. I'd rather not be here in the first place, though.''

''Nobody does. Clench your teeth and just... Look, we're almost there.''

The factory finally appeared on the horizon. The gargantuan structure was covered on all sides with concrete and asphalt. Its numerous tiny windows gave it a bizarre, sponge-like look. The closer the bus drove to the building, the smaller and weaker the trees outside the window seemed to get. Ben saw a lot of trucks and lorries entering and leaving the facility. ''An awfully busy place,'' he thought. The strangest, however, were the workers; instead of going directly to the factory after leaving their commutes, they gathered around what looked like a sizeable, bent pole.

''When we get there,'' Louis said, ''we need to stand somewhere in the crowd for the speech. Try to listen to everything very carefully and not to turn away too soon.''

Ben couldn't stop looking at the pole as more and more people amassed around it. Soon after, eight black silhouettes started to become clearer and clearer on the elevation right next to it. Closer, they became three women and five men in dark uniforms. The woman closest to the pole held a big whip folded tightly in both of her hands.

Ben got off, Louis right after him. The large group surrounding the square consisted of all kinds of men; some looked at the pole confused; some looked at it with visible effort, trying not to look away; some, the oldest of the bunch, looked at it with nothing but marrow-deep apathy. Ben looked behind; two more buses were on the way. A terrible, Glowiak-pitched voice forced his head to turn back to look at the pole again.

''It is our pleasure to welcome you all back at the Rosa Luxemburg Adults' Toys Factory. To see you gathered all around, listening to me... This is what we fought for a decade back and what, in a sense, we try our hardest to maintain. This is the natural, sane order of the world. The women of the world, with the help of their allies, can finally breathe a sigh of relief, knowing that the new order is, without a doubt, here to stay. It will stay and you will help to maintain it. If you don't like our plan and have any sort of doubt about it, take your necklace and look at it until you're convinced again.''

The mention of the necklace made Ben's face red and ready to cry again. The memories of the castration were still a fresh memory to him. The hopelessness came back. The feeling of waking up in a hospital bed with something missing in your crotch, only to find it floating in a portion of formalin right next to your head, then be told that you had to put in on your neck and not take it off for the rest of your life...

Ben felt tears appearing in the corners of his eyes.

''As long as both of… them remain there,'' the woman continued, ''our realm is secured. No woman shall ever feel fear, hunger, or discontent. You owe them at least this much. You owe them to spend the rest of your lives helping to build our paradise in which everyone is, at last, truly free and equal. Let it stay that way.

''I was infromed beforehand that today is the first day in the factory for some of you. Indeed, the crowd seems to be a lot bigger; my pride in the system and in The Party can only grow with it. For the newcomers, and those who seem to forget how lucky they are to live during our enlightened times, let me read out the most important rules:

"One: All employees of the Rosa Luxembourg Adults' Toys Factory are also subjects of the European Feminist Freedom Party. Although they are not actual members of The Party and, as such, are not granted any extended reperations that are connected to that title, they are guaranteed protection whenever The Party feels that they are in any way unequal. In turn, all employees are expected to support every official statement of The Party, just as The Party supports them in their daily lives. Mutual support is an integral part of every progressive society.

''Two: Workdays start at 4 am and end at midnight. The first shift starts at 4 am and ends at 2 pm; the second shift starts at 2 pm and ends at midnight precisely. The two-shift system warrants stability; because of that reason, workers shall not implement changes in their workday for any reason without a confrontation with their designated overseer. All employees are guaranteed transportation on and out of the premises of the factory. Workers seen outside of the premises of the factory during their workday are to be arrested and punished without trial. Workers seen on the premises of the factory outside of their workday shall be treated accordingly.

''Three: An overseer should be treated as an extension of The Party's power and, as such, is expected to be unquestionable in their requests. Workers are to fulfil every order of their overseer, no matter how irrational and pointless this order may seem to be; this law can be extended to other overseers and other positions of power, if the situation requires the law to be extended.

''Four: Any association with the following groups: The Army of Mars, Spes In Caelis, Eastern European Liberation Army, Men's Guard, and any of their immediate or intermediate subjects shall be punishable by death as soon as possible with no trial and no possibility of appealing the judgement. Conspiracy shall forever be severely punished.

''This concludes the rules for now. Further details will be explained to you by your overseer. In order to show you that we're as serious as we can be, however, we decided to arrange a show for all of you; for the newcomers to see that we're serious about it, and for the old ones to keep their memory fresh. Convict on stage, now.''

The two men who entered the stage could not have been any more different from one another. A muscular, emotionless man with a gun pushed forward what could only be described as a crying, skeleton-like male shadow. The convict could hardly see through the two gargantuan swellings under his eyes. His mouth, constantly dripping with blood, bore nothing resembling teeth inside of it. His arms, tied behind his back, looked about as strong as two deflated balloons. He had to be constantly guided with the rifle held by the gorilla walking behind him. The guard’s grunts were easily audible, as the entire square went silent.

When the convict was finally stopped right next to the pole, the woman next to him started to untie her whip. Its length grew and grew in Ben’s eyes, leaving him wondering how long it would get. After a few seconds, it grew to such size that he anxiously realised it was not a whip at all; it was a rope, now thrown over the bend at the top of the pole. One of the workers was made to climb a ladder and tie the rope tight.

The other woman continued her speech:

‘’The convict standing before you has got no name because he deserves none. He proved to be a traitor to our cause by making an alliance with The Army of Mars. Apart from him, five other collaborators were found. They were rightfully neutralised and the effects of their propaganda have been, hopefully, fully eradicated. This man, if you can call him that, appeared to be exceptionally fanatical in his fruitless crusade against The Party. In return, this two-faced scoundrel will get the death he deserves – that of a humiliated rat, and the legacy he deserves – to be forgotten and spat on for as long as The Party reigns. Remember this, then – The Party will always give its people exactly what they deserve; if you lift a hand to harm it, you will have that hand chopped off; if you lift a leg to kick it, you will have that leg broken; and if you open your mouth to speak against it, you will have your tongue nailed to a wall. See for yourselves.’’

A bag was placed on the convict’s head, followed by a noose placed around his neck. His yelps ringed in the ears of everyone surrounding the square. Soon enough, he started to kick and turn. The more the guard tried to put him in place, the more the convict fought and cried. The cries turned into screams, the moves of his body radicalised to the point at which he looked no more man-like than a starving dog trying to bite the hand clenched on his neck. The crowd watched the rope, which moved to the left and to the right, intensifying in its dance, seemingly about to break, ready to be released and kill.

The second guard pulled the lever. The rope straightened. The convict spasmed for a moment more before giving in. The bowl below him started to fill up with whatever he had held inside his bowels.

Ben felt every muscle in his neck tense up and try to force his head to turn away. The mention of the necklace he could bear, although barely, and it was hard for him to imagine an even worse, more vile thing. The convulsions of the convict proved just how innocent his mind had been. He found the movements almost otherworldly. The thought of a man, a being with experience and consciousness unmatched by any animal to exist or to have ever existed, convulsing like a fish held in the air just simply could not enter his head. He only knew that it really, really made him want to cover his eyes.

‘’Don’t even think about it,’’ whispered Louis. ‘’They’re almost done. Hold still.’’

One of the guards checked the convict’s pulse. His nod was a sign for the speaking woman to move on:

‘’One weasel neutralised, one lesson learned by every one of you, I hope. Only the enemies of The Party need to worry. A typical, honest, hard-working man will always be an ally to our cause. You have the chance to repay the wrongdoings of your sex and that opportunity begins today. Rejoice! Now, go to your locker rooms and get ready. Your overseers will instruct you further at your workstations. Long may The Party reign.’’
 
Very good writing. :feelsokman:

Sounds super Orwellian… and it is the logical conclusion of feminism and identity politics.

Hope to learn more about the army of mars and the other groups in the future.
 
Very good writing. :feelsokman:

Sounds super Orwellian… and it is the logical conclusion of feminism and identity politics.

Hope to learn more about the army of mars and the other groups in the future.
I'll keep you posted :feelsYall:
 
Very good writing. :feelsokman:

Sounds super Orwellian… and it is the logical conclusion of feminism and identity politics.

Hope to learn more about the army of mars and the other groups in the future.
Seconded! I don't regret reading this, the story & the world you've created are all very interesting so far.
How long have you been writing?
 
Seconded! I don't regret reading this, the story & the world you've created are all very interesting so far.
How long have you been writing?
Since writing hasn't been my top priority recently, and even then I've got some other personal projects I'm also sporadically working on, writing all this took a good month of once-in-a-while work. If I were to be more systematic, however, it would take me a week I guess. I'm not intensive in my labour as you can probably tell lmao
Thanks for reading btw, glad you like it :feelscomfy:
 
Good read on my train to go study-slave:feelsokman:
Prepares me for what's next
 
Seconded! I don't regret reading this, the story & the world you've created are all very interesting so far.
How long have you been writing?
Incels are basically eldians before fumbling arc
 
The way you write the story. I prefer dialogues that don't emphasize on the characters feelings and behavior. Just the dialogue.
tbf I like broad descriptions so it probably reflects in my prose quite a lot lmao thanks for sharing your thoughts, though, I'll try to take them in mind :feelsokman:
 
Nothing like needing two months to finish one chapter and it isn't even the longest :feelsrope:

@Michinomiya Hirohit
@Linesnap99
@erenyeager
@Iamnothere000
@Sheepcel
@Osentaku Otje
@the virgin shepherd
@Broly

--

‘’Well, that’s that,’’ said Louis. ‘’Another day of work’s over. Or the first one for you, Ben. Ben? You… alright there, buddy?’’

Ben stared at the front of the bus, completely silent. He needed a moment to look at Louis’ worried face and give him a few nods.

‘’I know, I know,’’ said Louis, ‘’first days of actual, honest hard work are always fucking terrible. Told you about mine, didn’t I? Can guarantee you that it will get easier. Eventually.’’

‘’They killed him,’’ said Ben with a cracky voice. ‘’With a rope. They killed a man. His body moved like… boiled pasta or something. He was dead.’’

‘’Oh, about that. Yeah, they do that sometimes. They usually leave the rope already hanging, though. Today’s an exception. I guess they wanted a nice entrance since fresh blood had arrived.’’

‘’How do you do this?’’

‘’Do what, now?’’

‘’Just… live like that. They kill people. I know that eventually… but still, how?’’

‘’You’re wondering now, but it really does grow on you eventually. Give it time.’’

‘’No, fuck that. I don’t want to give it time, it makes me sick. A week ago I went to school like I was supposed to. I never caused any serious trouble, so why do I get punished like this? Why is anyone punished like this? This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.’’

‘’Thought so, too, back in the day. The times were different, though, don’t think about it too much. Lay your head low and try to survive.’’

‘’Wait, the guy they hanged was accused of working with the resistance or something. They’re still active, aren’t they? How do I sign up, do you know?’’

‘’Buddy, you’re lucky that nothing in this bus works; neither the air conditioning, nor the microphones. Pray that nobody here is willing to report your ass to his overseer. This enthusiasm of yours will see you beaten up at lunch tomorrow and hanging from the gallows the day after.’’

‘’Oh, sorry,’’ whispered Ben. ‘’So, do you know how to sign up?’’

‘’Talk normally,’’ said Louis, ‘’you’re only pissing me off now. No, I don’t know how to sign up and I don’t care. Doubt they’re going door to door telling you to join and if they do, they’re probably inviting you to a nice honeypot with a free ticket to the nearest police station. Wouldn’t think about joining anything anymore if I were you. You need to start thinking about survival.’’

‘’You keep saying ‘survival’ and ‘surviving,’ like a starving dog. Seriously, how have you lived like that for the past ten years?’’

‘’He takes The Party’s girl cock so far up his ass he can lick it with his tongue,’’ said some guy behind them. Ben recognised the voice from earlier, when he drove to the first day of work in the morning. ‘’Yeah, faggot, look at me. That’s the only way anyone can survive as long as you did and you know it, coward.’’

‘’Stop talking about things you know nothing about, dickhead,’’ shouted Louis. ‘’Didn’t see you charging with a rifle when it was time to do that.’’

‘’Oh, we got ourselves a veteran here, don’t we?’’ the guy said, louder. ‘’The only thing you charged is the battery in your vibrator. You didn’t do shit. Had you done your job properly we wouldn’t have balls hanging from under our chins right now. The war was ours to win and you fucked it up.’’

‘’You’re a veteran?’’ asked Ben, looking at Louis.

‘’The guy’s right,’’ said another voice, squeakier than the first, ‘’you’re no hero. Real heroes died and continue to die today. Your squad should’ve shot you in the back of your head and make some room in the bus for the rest of us.’’

‘’You’re no soldier material, I can already tell. You would waste too many bullets on too many good men and leave nothing for the real enemy.’’

‘’Didn’t care this much about those ’good men’ when you sold them out for spirit alcohol, did you?’’

‘’Say that to my face again. Come here, look me in the eyes and say that again, motherfucker. How dare you, you little shit? Give me another reason to smash your head like an egg, come on.’’

‘’Louis,’’ whispered Ben, ‘’your bus stop.’’

‘’Running away?’’ shouted the first voice. ‘’Come on, take your butt-buddy with you and tell him all about selling your comrades in arms for protection. I bet he can’t wait to hear how much of a bitch you are! Yeah, leave and jump off a bridge.’’

‘’Never come back here again, fag,’’ added the second voice.

The loud laughter that followed ringed in Louis’ ears for a long while after leaving the bus. He tried to calm himself down with the vision of the upcoming evening with bootleg alcohol, but his mind kept coming back to the same words and phrases; bitch, sell, comrades, coward.

Coward hurt the most. Every time he heard it, he winced with disgust and anger. He was a lot of nasty, mean things; but a coward he was not, surely. He remembered buildings, entire districts on fire. He remembered he shot a wagon’s worth of ammunition during the war. Every bastard feared his rifle back in the day. He killed and almost was killed on multiple occasions, including the day of capitulation.

Yes, the day of capitulation he most definitely remembered; how he was thinking about his life and its future; how he was aiming at his own head with the rifle with which he had promised to keep the liberty of men intact; and how, ultimately, he gave it up to The Party’s slimy hands.

‘’Hey man, get over here, quickly,’’ said a hoarse voice behind Louis’ right ear.

Louis turned around to see a weasely-looking face looking at him from around the corner of a dark alley.

‘’So that I can get shanked by your buddies hiding behind you?’’ said Louis. ‘’Fuck off.’’

‘’Man, I’m alone, don’t worry. As if you had something worth stealing. Besides, stabbing and stealing is no way to treat a veteran.’’

‘’How… What I am and what I’m not is none of your business.’’

‘’Is this why you participate in screaming matches on your way home?’’

‘’What do you want from me, freak? Honestly.’’

‘’Get in here and I’ll tell you.’’

Louis looked around. The few other people on the street were occupied with something else and the only police officer present was far away, too busy using a telescopic baton to explain something very clearly to a 3rd grade lad.

Louis approached the alley from a wide angle, only to see that, indeed, the freak was alone.

‘’Yeah, man, make sure to look as suspicious as you possibly can,’’ said the weirdo. ‘’Don’t waste time, he’s almost done with the boy. Now, you’ve surely heard of the Army of Mars, right?’’

‘’Ah, should’ve asked right away. I’ll go home, then. Don’t bother me anymore.’’

‘’No, man, you’ll stay here for just one minute more,’’ the freak said, pulling Louis with a firm grab. ‘’Without beating around the bush: we need people, especially if they carry experience. You in?’’

‘’I was, a decade ago. You’re not making me join again. I did enough evil.’’

‘’If by ‘evil’ you mean killing some pink-haired monkeys then, man, there’s still much evil to be done.’’

‘’I… nevermind. I don’t want the past to come back for me.’’

‘’Whatever you say. Take this here card, in case you change your mind.’’

The card contained a picture of a man with an unnaturally large gaping smile. Next to him, a Comic Sans text read: ‘’Feminist Literature Discussion Club! Challenge your last bits of masculinity! June 21st, 2041, 78 Plater Street.’’

‘’And remember,’’ said the freak, ‘’the Moon is a white pill in the ocean of darkness. Now, go home and don’t turn around. I’ll leave right after you do.’’

Louis left the alley and headed straight forward. Moments after, the freak passed him by on a bike and soon turned right, without looking back once.

‘’A white pill in the ocean of darkness, huh?’’ muttered Louis. He stopped next to a garbage bin. ‘’Idiotism,’’ he said, holding the card above it.
 
will check it out
 
Man deep shit
 
Interesting story so far; the most terrifying thing about it is how even in recent history low-value men were literally castrated & forced to serve/entertain the higher classes.
We are likely, in our lifetimes; to see such social conventions emerge again....
 
Interesting story so far; the most terrifying thing about it is how even in recent history low-value men were literally castrated & forced to serve/entertain the higher classes.
We are likely, in our lifetimes; to see such social conventions emerge again....
When I read about ancient Slavs selling each other to Arabs, with men becoming castrated slaves and women being thrown into harems, it hit me on a personal level :worryfeels: terrifying shit, especially when you consider that history likes to repeat
..same:feelsbadman:

Good story tho:feelsautistic:
Over for writer's-blockcels
Finally remembered to add my shit to the blog, though, feels good :feelsmusic:
 
A lot of shit happening in my life right now, but none of it will stop this incel from delivering the next chapter :feelsLightsaber:

@Michinomiya Hirohit
@Linesnap99
@erenyeager
@Iamnothere000
@Sheepcel
@Osentaku Otje
@the virgin shepherd
@Broly

--

‘’May the Party win all wars.’’

‘’Long may the Party reign. Sit down, we’ve got a lot to discuss, Mrs. Tueschner.’’

‘’I know, I read the letter.’’

‘’Outstanding, so you know that there are certain questions which demand satisfying answers, right?’’

‘’I do, Mrs. Louche.’’

‘’Fantastic. Now, having analysed the data concerning the number of individuals marked as ‘concerning,’ ‘dangerous’ and ‘exceptionally dangerous’ in Rosa Luxembourg, your supervision of the factory has seen a 40 % decrease in incarcerations and a 31 % decrease in executions in the span of merely three months. Short question, short answer: how do you explain that?’’

‘’Fewer suspects, Mrs. Louche. There is no other reason, as the surveillance policy has not been in any way manipulated.’’

‘’I see. You know how weak your argument sounds, considering that such decreases have not been observed in any other state factory, right? The Brontë factories’ numbers have not decreased as drastically. The Suffragettes executes roughly the same amount of terrorists as it did half a year ago. Not to mention Rosa Parks, which has actually increased the number of incarcerations. Rosa Luxembourg is the only one which has seen any noticeable fall. What is going on with y’all?’’

‘’I… don’t know, Mrs. Louche.’’

‘’You mean to tell me you don’t know what is happening inside the factory you are meant to supervise?’’

‘’No, what I meant is… I may simply be uninformed for the time being. I will check for problems under every brick if needed, Mrs. Louche.’’

‘’You’d better do. You know how it is with the Party. They do marvelous work, undoubtedly, but they are… exceptionally careful these days. A lot is happening within, a lot is happening outside; not to mention, the rumors about the Leaderess’ abdication seem more likely with each passing day. Surely, they don’t want any more trouble. Let’s not give them more things to worry about, shall we?’’

‘’Of course, Mrs. Louche.’’

‘’I’m very glad you understand. I’m sure you’ll also understand why we’re cutting your budget for the upcoming quarter.’’

‘’Excuse me? Mrs. Louche, it doesn’t…’’

‘’I know, you’re already running on fumes, I get it. Don’t you think, however, that if we continue to send money to a factory which is, according to the Party, not pulling its weight, the entire district would look suspicious or, at the very least, incompetent? They might pull their money out of here alltogether. Sacrifices need to be made and, unfortunately, you’re the first one to go.’’

‘’I understand, Mrs. Louche, but please, try to understand my position as well. The budget we get currently is barely enough to cover the staff’s and the pigs’…’’

‘’Workers’. Use the official language during official meetings, Mrs. Tueschner.’’

‘’…workers’ salaries. Not to mention electricity, heating, running water, fuel for the buses, overseer health insurance, machine maintenance…’’

‘’Alright, that’s enough. Don’t worry, the cut will be merely symbolic, both in size and in nature. I’m sure you’ll be able to handle whatever comes for you. You’re young and energetic, after all. You remind me of myself, actually, when I was your age. I, too, went places; or, rather, could have gone places, had there been no patriarchy to stop me and many more young girls from achieving my dreams. I’m so glad these tragic days are over, aren’t you?’’

‘’I am, Mrs. Louche.’’

‘’That’s the spirit, you got this. Under the Party’s guidance you are finally free to spread your wings and fly, and let us hope it stays that way permanently. One more thing before you depart. As I was told, you should expect sporadic WSA visits, at least for the time being.’’

‘’WSA? As in, Women’s Security Agency? Why?’’

‘’I know, I’m not exactly ecstatic about it, either, but you’ll need to clench your teeth for a while. All I know is that there’s going to be two of them, nothing else. What they’ll ask for, what they’ll check or do I simply can’t tell you. They can’t kill you, that’s for certain, and if you get into any kind of serious trouble, come back here immediately. We’ll think of a solution.’’

‘’Mrs. Louche, I don’t understand. Wouldn’t it really be enough to just cut the budget? WSA really does seem like overkill.’’

‘’It’s not my decision, they decided to intervene and I had to obey. I have people above me, don’t forget that.’’

‘’No, Mrs. Louche, what I mean is that, from what I’ve heard, WSA's only concern is counterintelligence and matters of national security. Why would they be interested in Rosa Luxembourg, whose only sin is a noticeable fall in prisoner executions? Are you sure nobody sent them on me?’’

‘’Isn’t such a fall a matter of national security? Besides, I know nothing about any calls made specifically to jeopardise you or the factory. I can’t tell you anything, I’m sorry; but once again, I’m sure you can make it work. Who else, if not you?’’

‘’I’m glad you trust me, Mrs. Louche, but that just seems too much for me. I’m not sure…’’

‘’Like I said, you have nothing to fear. If anything happens to you, you know who to call. We’ll figure something out. For now, try to make Rosa Luxembourg into a factory worthy of the Party’s blessing. Increasing the number of dangerous individuals should be a good start.’’

‘’Very well, I’ll do my best. Is that all, Mrs. Louche?’’

‘’Yes, formalities have been concluded. However, I want to ask you privately; is your entertainer… available for duty?’’

‘’Yes. What about him, Mrs. Louche?’’

‘’Well, mine broke down crying in the middle of an act and I sent him back to the camp to be fixed. They still haven’t returned him to me yet and I could really use some fun tonight. Short answer, short question: mind if I borrow?’’

‘’Not a problem, Mrs. Louche. I’ll probably be too busy inspecting the factory anyway. I’ll send him directly to your address, which is… ?’’

‘’137 Victory Street. Not far from here, actually.’’

‘’Certainly. By evening he should be at your door, Mrs. Louche.’’

‘’Excellent. What’s he like?’’

‘’Tall, slightly muscular, black. He’s got that melancholic look on his face pretty much all the time, but he serves me well. Kim used to be his name, I forgot the surname. Fiddle… I think?’’

‘’But that doesn’t matter now, does it? Alright, Mrs. Tueschner, there’s still much to be done today and we’re wasting time on chit-chat. We’ll be in contact. May the Party win all wars.’’

‘’Long may the Party reign.’’
 
looking forward to read this.
 
So do you have an entire outline for the story written up? Or do you kinda just wing it/start writing & seeing where it takes you?
 
So do you have an entire outline for the story written up? Or do you kinda just wing it/start writing & seeing where it takes you?
I already know how the plot's gonna go, but I don't have it written anywhere. Although now that you mention it, writing down some stuff may not be a bad idea :feelsthink:
 
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