The Registry -- Part 1 by Allexcited69

Introduction.
The story deals with a future world where things are very different and it involves harsh language, harsh realities and unexpected civil and sexual behaviours. In this not too distant future, in a new type of society, there are citizens and then there are numbers; servants, maids and other registered slaves and then the officially non-existant ''wild ones''. This is their story. There is use of some coarse language and the readers are warned that the content is sometimes unpleasant and disturbing.

It was now Mid-October and Olav had been busy picking up branches all morning in the rainy woods as the harsh Canadian winter was quickly approaching. If he could capture the lovely hues of red, yellow and orange of these quiet woods along the grandiose Richelieu River, on a canvas, he would.

He could clearly see the composition of radiant colors reminiscing of the vibrancy of a Riopelle painting attached to a 20 foot wall that would be the centerpiece of a chic, architecture-designed villa. Olaf liked to reminisce of the good old days when he would visit art galleries along Sherbrooke Street and have discussions with the Gallery Owners about such things. Helas, he realized that the time for Subterfuge, for Caprice and Luxury had passed.

As his father told him just before dying. ‘’If you want to be safe, just stay away from the Citizens and their system of registries called the ‘’Registre des resources matérielles et humaines’’ in this province that prided itself on preserving some vestiges and symbolic hints at their French Ancestry. There was a registry or license now required for everything and Olav had rebelled and run away from it all.

The people who ran those registries were all powerful and they could keep you from working and often sent you for re-training. Computer engineers had all been re-trained either as book-keepers, administrators or as if they were male, usually Maid-servant to the Citizenry. Numbers were usually branded with a tattoe or cow-brand with their assigned number and implanted sub-cutaneously with a radioactive chip that ensured their exclusion from most remaining spheres of civility like courts, airports, hospitals and the numerousroad blocks that monitored all movements of people and products.

Things were now quite different since September 11th 2022 due to a large geomagnetic storm that changed the world.

On that date, a severe geomagnetic storm caused the collapse of the Hydro Trebec power grid in a matter of seconds as equipment protection relays tripped in a cascading sequence of events. Two hundred fifty million people were left without power with significant economic loss. The economy stopped working just when Governments had told us that we were on the dawn of a new economic renaissance.
Power was eventually restored within months but only to a small portion of the grid.

The governments and utilities were now bankrupt, or lost their legitimacy and their limited resources only enabled them to restore power to some wealthy communities that could bankroll these extensive repairs.

To make matters worse, the supply and use of hydrocarbons was now restricted to the Elite, the Military , the police force and the commoners all had electric vehicles, rendered suddenly useless.

People had been talked into abandoning any polluting devices. All wood-burning stoves had been replaced and people in the city were dying of the Cold. Unless one had access to fuel, and a generator, access to the initially successful Cloud Computing was now made impossible. Pumps stopped working so water had flooded most basements redefining entire neighborhoods. High-rises were popular and were now seen as the ultimate Status symbol because of the basic Security in this new world.

Olav went to his Cabin and lit the Wood stove to keep himself warm for a few moments, drink some tea so that he could return for some more foraging and trapping in the woods. If he was lucky, he would find a rabbit in some of the traps he had carefully set up. If not, Olav would get by on some home-grown roots and carrots.

He had always refused to register and to render himself available for Sperm donation and other medical experiments.

One of his neighbors had volunteered and was extremely keen to undertake a new life of obedience, security as a numbered wild one. A few months later, he showed up a broken man. He was skinny, toothless and he had been beaten and kept in a cage like an animal. When he was let out, it was to clean the grand Mansion of his Mistress — a Citizen with a herd of a dozen slaves, all with specific purposes. He had been chosen to donate some blood, some sperm and his left kidney but somehow he had managed to escape one day and return to the river.

The wild ones, as we were now referred to, belonged to nobody, most of the time because those ex-citizens were cantankerous, stubborn, old or sick and/or yearned for a sense of freedom that could no longer be had in the light of September 11th . Those people were completely ignored and they existed in complete isolation from any hint of modern society, human rights or medical care.

Governments had long ago withdrawn from providing such services anyways. Rampant corruption had enriched a few but it had destroyed the state. The Corporations that had survived extended such care to their Employees and their veneer of morality and respectability usually would move them to organize Food Baskets for or some Year-end Dinners for the disabled, the fallen, the poor , the unlike them.

There was a true fascination for them by some Elite designers who considered them as wild animals belonging to a Nature left behind, and they were the source of great Inspiration. Artists would love to photograph and venerate them, like they would with the Wild Horses of Sable Island.

True freedom had been lost for most people. Some ersatz-type of Freedom and Nature was therefore required. Compassion no longer existed but it was considered fashionable to say you were. One or two days in the year, the announcers of Radio-Cadenas would make a charity drive to maintain the illusion that all was well.

The governments proudly would publish figures showing virtually no unemployment and increases in life expectancy . However figures were only catalogued for the Citizens, who usually either had cushy jobs, or belonged to some powerful union or worked for a Corporation with a monopoly product or service. In 2011, there were 6 engineering firms that got 90% of the government contracts. In 2016, only one had survived. It was estimated that Citizens represented about 30% of the population.

Access to nature was now difficult unless you were poor. Then you would live and piss under a tree out of obligation. Citizens , mostly hurdled in cramped spaces, therefore consumed and fantasized about wild expeditions, great vistas of the Grand Canyon but most people in Cities were now getting by with a 13 x 13 foot room in a skyscraper equipped and heated by very rudimentary technologies.

The workplace was now a new world. Differences between working women and men had been annihilated as it was too costly and ineffective to manage all this. Most workers were belted and sex was now a luxury reserved for the Powerful, the Rich, and the Chosen. It had become fashionable for elites to become Transgender and to emit ambiguous messages about their true sexual desires or wants. Pseudo-sex, lotteries and sports were fed daily to the Masses that yearned to get their share.

In 2013, a male Russian cosmonaut had raped a Canadian female astronaut in the space Station and this had also be the turning point for establishing a New World Order that greatly restricted sex. In this new Order , you either had a name or a number. It was that simple. All who had names were considered Citizens and could work, have medical care, be looked after in some type of way. Many Citizens though had lost their Names and become Numbers when the bank foreclosed on a loan or their homes.

The Names had to stay productive to keep their Status and also respect the Code, like a Religion. The Code was like a holy book of 100 sacred rules and the pseudo-Elites were brainwashed daily from young age to abide by it. The Code was a mish-mash of the Bible, some Confucius, the Civil Code , the Quran and it was an effort by the Dictators in Power to simplify the Laws and restore some sense of order in an otherwise chaotic world.

Technologically, mankind had fallen back to a XVI th Century levels of technology and the Ethos and Psyche of most everybody had been radically changed. As the learned experts would like to say. There was a massive Paradigm Shift that completely threw out the window all ideas of Modern Living, its conveniences, the rapid-fire Google search that was now longer there. Young people especially had had a tough time adjusting as the instant searches on Wikipedia or Utube were now impossible. This alone created an instant dumbing down of humanity.

The Young especially suddenly felt very isolated and fell into madness, raves, drugs and a life of wondering or idling. Books or old Magazines were suddenly popular but they had become so expensive as to become inaccessible. Some outfits now leased them out for a day. Pornography, Lotteries and drugs were as always in hot demand and the State or some State-licensed Corporation had cornered the market.

Those needs had become the main sources of Income and constituted most of a person’s daily earnings.

The state had lost most of its legitimacy overnight and society now consisted of a bunch of Clans. Some were rich, some were poor but all were ruthless in their quest to survive and thrive.

The state was seen as just yet just another service provider in certain lucrative niche markets specializing in Lotteries, alcohol, pornography , energy, fantasy vacations and massive re-training programs for the wealthy.

I had walked for 5 days to the fertile region of the Richelieu valley where I hoped to survive somehow , just as the Indians before me did, through some fishing, trapping and foraging for wild fruits in forests and fields.
Gardening was now an organized activity that had to be registered. You could garden but the registration insured that most of the crop would be seized for taxes, dues, fines, tools, composted earth and the farmer was left with a pittance.

This was now true for most types of Human endeavors and people had therefore all lost their sense of Initiative and were getting by in some other undeclared way or waiting for handouts of food in exchange for Servitude, blood or Organ Donations.

Gardening alone was too risky and visible. Whenever a garden would yield something worthwhile, the military or some local strongman or clan would seize it in the name of Canada. It reminded me of Russia and the plundering of the farms by the Proletariat in power at the moment.

All this made me realize that the nice principles of justice, democracy, human rights, international treaties, the European Community were fragile and lofty constructions of the human mind that were no longer upheld and viable.

Help from outside of Canada could not be expected as Europe, Asia, And USA were living similar crisis and quickly turned inward and most were now Dictatorships. Last time I heard, Europe was redefined to include only Germany, Luxembourg and France but it had become a symbolic Union, with little of the grand XXth Century Institutions of Parliament and International Courts. All other countries had been disconnected from it because they were either too poor or too undemocratic to qualify as Members.

The last two winters had been very cold.

As Leonard Cohen used to sing in the digital age ‘’ I have seen the Future and it is Murder’’....

TO BE CONTINUED

The Registry .part2 by Allexcited69

This is a work of fiction that deals with a simple future. In it, most people, if they were numbers, were now simple people with simple ideas and very simple needs. Harsh language is used and this story includes descriptions of sexual behaviour that may be considered disturbing to some.

The Citizens, however could have loftier dreams and could have outlets like riding horses, writing poetry, painting, secretly abusing their slaves for amusement and transforming them into subhuman creatures that would be kept in dark and moist places, have little access to medical care, information or basic human rights.

The Citizens, that represented the Elite and their entourage, though were obsessed with their image and came across as politically correct, uber-ethical and very fashion-conscious. This new veneer of new morality was a backlash to the corrupt prior years but little had changed in the self-serving behaviour of the elites and in basic human nature when power and opportunity for abuse intersect.

A new language had emerged. It was initially based on Twitter but the vocabulary was still too vast and complex, especially for the younger people. This new society had a very limited attention span and required maximum simplicity so words were mono-syllabic like eat, prey, go, come, seek, and kneel. Vulgarity and use of vulgar words were cause for immediate imprisonment.

Politeness in front of a superior now required kneeling, kissing their hand and sometimes anything more that the Superior required but always in a privater place far removed from the gazes of any witnesses.

Prayer by all was inexpensive so it was encouraged and all bad things that would happen to you were caused by a lack of prayer and a lack of faith. Impure thoughts were controlled by Chastity devices but if you had enough money, sexual release could be obtained for medical reasons and other Elite-available exemptions. However, it usually entailed that the charges and servants of the Elites went longing for longer periods.

Sexual Denial was shown to limit undesired births and to increase productivity but it also went along with a new Era of official abstinence and purity.

For the numbers, when they were ordered to pray, it just meant. ‘’Be silent’’. All kinds of devices stemming from the Inquisition had emerged and usually ‘’helped’’ people to find back their faith. Nobody would dare say openly that they were non-believers especially among the Citizenry. As for the numbers, their immorality was somewhat expected due to their lack of proper upbringing, limited access to houses of faith and Shorthand vocabulary.

Houses of faith had emerged all over and people were expected to show up for the 6 am prayers each morning. The large financial institutions, simply called clearing houses, actually owned these houses of faith and financial stability had become a prime virtue. Debts were frowned upon because it usually led you into oblivion and ultimately slavery.

Most foreclosed suburban houses in Kwibec had been converted into Pot-growing operations and some monopolies held exclusive rights for this. Pot had become the drug of the Elites and numbers were not allowed to consume any such non-addictive substances as it may interfere with their faith.It was now Kwibec's major export to the US.

Regrettably, cocaine seemed to be the drug of the masses and numbers and it kept them all nicely in line for their daily fix. Governments had looked for solutions to avert mass demonstrations caused by the squalid urban housing, food and water shortages. High paid consultants had noticed that the drug addicts only cared for their daily fix and little else.

Theft was now punishable by various body modifications that made robbers instantly recognizable. For a citizen that stole, it meant immediate loss of all status and re-education as a number at the Neighbourhood Re-education Centers (modelled after the Poll Pot Academy of Lower Learning..lol) . For a first offence, an ugly tattoo on the forehead, in the shape of R/R for registered robber was immediate.

The robber’s registry was a way to recruit the best new members to an underground elite group modelled after the Gestapo. They would usually spy on targeted people, hurl them off in the middle of the night and were usually not firm believers of human rights. The robbers usually had shown some courage, scoundrel-gene and non-conformity and these were recognized by the elites as rare traits.

Furthermore, the Elites preferred the robbers on their side rather then against them but they had to be registered and properly re-trained. The first 6 month of their training involved re-learning the Shorthand Alphabet and Vocabulary, developed to enhance and simplify their communication skills.

The Vocabulary consisted of about a hundred words representing routine tasks or passivity. Emphasis in this vocabulary was on listening, observation and working in silence. Numbers were not allowed to say I, me, myself and their focus was supposed to be on the needs of their Masters and Mistresses.

The elites had re-organized into a group of professions and trades that guarded strictly their member’s exclusive privileges and areas of work. To belong to one of these groups, proof of good faith was required and continuing education was a must. The marginal or dissenting members were quickly disbarred because of some minor fault or because of failing their annual aptitude exams. Aptitude Exams tested for Enthusiasm, Rituals, and Conducts of Practice and Dogma that changed continually in some small way, in order to weed out the old, the hesitant and the non-enthusiasts.

The top elites belonged to the A (Attorneys, Strategic Brains called ‘’ Artists, Accountants, Architects’’ ...etc) and B ‘’thinking’’ (Bailiffs, and Behaviour (Brainwash) Experts trades. Mostly, decision-making was expected of them. The next groups were C , D or E categories and their power was great because they alone were allowed to interact with the top tier (they were the Communicators and . The F category, like the F words were frowned upon. They were the elite that did the ugly work like punishing, branding, and their oratory skills were usually limited. Some had witnessed bad things and they were rendered mute by the upper Elites.

The Saturday ritual was now a hockey game followed by the lottery in winter and American Football in summer. After a round of 10 losing games, the team usually were reclassified as numbers and the Elite made it clear that Mediocrity had no place in Kwibec. Team spirit was important so the punishment and rewards went to the teams. This new society had somehow discovered the secrets of Stalinism and Maoist thinking and officially everybody was a comrade equal in rank, even though some lived in mansions.

Sarah was on the run and she had met up with a pack of young miners that had escaped from their assigned stations. She had long brown hair and stood at 6 feet tall. Sarah was 22 and 3 months pregnant. She did not remember or understand how she had been impregnated. She suspected that she had been drugged and raped at the school. Within, she believed that the Child she was carrying belonged to Maxime. Maybe she had been unknowingly inseminated with the Child of a Goverment leader but she could not remember it happening.

She quickly needed to get help to undo the Chastity so she could give birth. This worried her quite a lot but the miners had started sawing at it and Zion had assured her that they could remove it if he kept at it . Thankfully, the chastity she had on had allowed her expansive waist room to move.

She had been a schoolteacher in a working class neighbourhood in Montreal-East before the events of September 11th and she was an optimist at heart. After the catastrophe, half of the kids no longer showed up. She kept on teaching for a while without pay then stopped when the Government shut down the school. She had been reassigned to the Re-education Unit No 232 after 2 warnings for misbehaving; she was re-assigned to the support services group. Her attitude had been judged as wrong-headed and too rebellious.

She strongly disagreed with the School’s Curricula and Methods. Eventually she was fired, the bank foreclosed on her house and she therefore lost her Status as a Citizen. She also had an infatuation with one of the Students of the Academy, a young defrocked attorney called Maxime Chevrier that had political ambitions and was seen as menace to the New Elites. The New Elites were all quite young, usually under 30, having pushed out their older predecessors without scruples after the Catastrophe.

Maxime was 26, good looking and worked out regularly. He spoke 3 languages and had a sense of humour and irreverence that made it hard for him to be indoctrinated. Sarah liked his Independent Spirit, his rebellious attitude and his physique. They had on occasion kissed in the privacy of her office at the school but somehow their affair was discovered and Maxime suddenly vanished. When Sarah asked about his where-abouts, she was only told that he had been transferred to the Plan Nord. The Plan Nord was a Siberia-like territory of vast lands, rich in forestry and mineral resources. Escape from it was difficult because of the harsh weather and a solitary, heavily guarded road that led into it.

Before the catastrophe, PLAN NORD had been criticized by political opponents as non eco-friendly but after the Catastrophe, all dissension to it had been stifled. It was a right-wing test-model of a new society and was ahead of its time in a way. Working conditions were strictly monitored with big unions, big corporations and big Government working there in perfect unison.

Any type of free spirit there usually quickly fell into line as the drudgery, the cold weather and isolation required conformity and strict obedience in order to survive.

The three minors accompanying Sarah were nick-named Zeon, Zachary, Zion but they were officially numbers. Their re-education at the Pol Pot Academy had transformed them. Their lack of vocabulary had led them to use their hands when they talked. Zeon was the leader and the serious one. Zachary was the clown; he had an indestructible spirit and was good at foraging for food. Zion was really good looking and tall and sometimes Sarah fantasized about making out with him. Zion had lost one eye in the mine during an explosion. However, the whole group were wearing state issued chastity devices. They had met just outside of Montreal around a Bonfire in a working class neighbourhood.

Their goal was to go to the Richelieu River where Sarah’s resourceful uncle Olaf was believed to be. They were glad that they had found each other.

There was a full moon and the wolves were howling now in unison. Zeon was roasting a duck he had managed to catch. Huddled together two by two , the fire was keeping them warm for now. Zion's hand attempted to move to Sarah’s breast through her thick clothing. She quickly glanced at him and gave him a kiss on the cheek and said softly ''We better get some sleep soon. Tomorrow is going to be along day.’’

TO BE CONTINUED

The Registry -part 3 by Allexcited69

This is a work of fiction that deals with a simple future. In it, most people, if they were numbers, were now simple people with simple ideas and very simple needs. Harsh language is used and this story includes descriptions of sexual behaviour that may be considered disturbing to some.

It was now getting colder by the day. Olaf was busy preparing a rabbit for cooking in an old army helmet that he had found along the road. The drunken soldiers would sometimes party and throw their helmets overboard. The army really controlled all comings and goings.

However, Olaf had a friend called Sylvain in the Army that would leave money in a stone wall along the road. Olaf had run into him one night near the old fort of Chambly. He was there with two young musician friends playing the fiddle and smoking marijuana. They got to talking about the state of the Nation.

The soldier said that many people in the City had died but that the state had kept a hush on it not wanting to great mass panic. Apparently, initially everybody thought it was due to hypothermia and lack of heating, or malnutrition but word got out that there was some type of virus that mutated very quickly. It was spreading. Apparently, this was a man-made virus that somehow got out of control. The soldier wanted natural pot, untainted by and not spiked with cocaine. It was tough to get in the City. Olaf mentioned the Quebec Gold that grows in the Cornfields of his valley, untainted and unspoiled.

As agreed with Sylvain, he could leave him some in the old stone wall by the side of the order. This way, he limited direct contact and limited the risk of getting killed.

Over the last 2 years, the soldier had passed regularly and bought huge quantities for himself and his numerous friends. Usually, Sylvain also left him some update of the daily notes issued by the Government. Quarantines and a massive vaccination program were being undertaken. The Government was exhorting all to get vaccinated and was offering a free meal to all Volunteers.
Olaf reflected for a moment. He would not get vaccinated. Was it another attempt by the government to control the population’s comings and goings?

He had been told that some GPS Nano-chips encapsulated in the Vaccines and lodged in the target’s body through its Intravenous Injection of the vaccines could identify each person or animal and monitor his movements. He no longer trusted the government’s true intentions and would therefore not take any chances with this.

For now, he felt lucky to be in the Midst of Nature along the majestic Richelieu River. Had the currents not been so strong, he might have to swim in it or even paddle up river to Lake Champlain where a lot of trafficking, of mostly people, weapons, medicines, drugs or cigarettes , occurred between the US and Kwibec. The land had changed, he thought but those old customs of trafficking had endured.

It got him thinking about going to town dressed as a suit. Suits were numbers that had a government issued badge that allowed them access and minimal interferences commuting into town. One of his friends ran a HR agency and the government had often used him to recruit ‘’unofficial human resources ‘’and had issued him 100 security badges for this purpose. All such badges were strictly accounted for but Olaf would step in when some suit was sick and discretely take his place. He would earn a few Couronnes, some Meal tickets and maybe he’d go catch a Brainteaser movie.

The movies reminded him of his Sundays a long time ago. On such days, he would take his young daughter Sarah go see the latest Hollywood Flicks. Most movies were now in Spanish, but had different audible versions depending on who was watching the movie.

The numbers got to see some movies but the version and morale they watched was very basic and designed for an IQ Level of 60. They would watch the movie and see two guys making out; usually they smoked then drank a beer and bought lottery tickets for fun. Those were really brainwashing infomercials that Olav sometimes got hooked on. The more complicated story-plot was only available to the Elites. 3D Glasses were required for that.

About six months ago, he came close to joining the Sanitation Unit, after falling for its commander, Mistress So Clean with her gleaming SS uniform and spiffy boots who had cast a hypnotic spell on him. After smoking a few joints, he had pulled his mind away from this mind-fuck and forgot about Mistress So Clean for a time. But watching movies could be dangerous to your health in other ways. Movie Houses would scan the room to identify everybody present.

The scans would seek out the radioactive emissions of the Numbers’ inserts. His suit badge came with a radio-active card and safety jacket that sent false signals to the scan machines. Olaf still had hard-ons to this day whenever he dreamt of Mistress SoClean, so radiant, optimistic and seductive with her shiny boots, aspects he still found so delightfully attractive especially when he looked around and saw so much everyday uncertainty, ugliness and so many walls and access badges that isolated everybody.

The government had limited mass gatherings of people ever since the ‘’Occupy Wall street’’ movement had got out of hand. Therefore, it now encouraged most solitary endeavours, limited interaction between people and information was disclosed on a Need—to-know basis. The Government wanted everybody to work out so even the Gyms had devices that generated electricity for pumps and lights while people exercised on them.

Olav sometimes wondered if Mistress SoClean was still unmarried and looking for ‘’good’’ men as she hinted ‘’come and see me sometime in a Mae West tone of voice. Mistress So Clean had made Cleanliness look so sexy.

But enough day-dreaming for now, he thought. He had sometimes wondered what had happened to his daughter Sarah. She was a wild spirit at hearth and Olav was not really worried about her. She was like him. She could gauge somebody quickly and often would make friends wherever she went.

During this time, Sarah continued her journey but at a slower pace as she had sprained her ankle and needed to rest up and get back her forces. For now, Zion was wooing her and trying to cut open her chastity. The titanium alloy was tough to cut but he was making headway. The two others had killed a Virginia deer and so they had feasted on it and still had food for a few days. Tomorrow, she would make some smoked ham that they could take along on their journey through the forests.

Those trails were over 500 years old and along it, one found all kinds of food, thieves and sometimes soldiers. Sarah had also baked some bread with Corn she had found near an abandoned house. Her dad’s passion for Iroquois bread recipes, sprinkled with some wild berries and using the oil from the sunflowers and the grease from the Virginia deer, had been a big success with the boys.
She loved to be resourceful. It made her feel in control and invulnerable for a moment. She had become the natural leader of the Group.

She had the men around her little finger literally. Zion had built two small shelters with branches and she had fun being around them all although the words spoken between them were few and far between. But the body language of the men had made her feel that they were now there for each other and had become an improvised family of misfits of sorts.

She often felt horny but any thoughts dealing with sex were quickly put away. She was glad in a way that they all had chastity belts. Their main focus would be survival for now. Things were so simple in this way. Just camaraderie but no real sex. It was just perfect.

In the day, the forest was often flown over by Army helicopters coming and going, or maybe they were looking for lost souls. The government did not like ‘’shrinkage or migration of its human resources’’. It jeopardized the established order and made them look incompetent. The state felt that total control of all movements was therefore necessary ever since Sept. 11th.

Olav was sitting by the river enjoying the sunset. He was now happy with very little. In his former life, he had manors, expensive cars and expensive habits but he didn’t miss any of it. He no longer had any big expectations from anybody. He expected betrayal sooner or later, especially from the drug addicts so he stayed away from all human contact as much as possible.

He had worked not to become overly cynical, depressed or angry as this was not Zen and he considered it as ‘’excess baggage’’. He needed to stay focused on his survival, keep his emotions in check, travel light and move swiftly if need be.
The latest note left by Sylvain this morning had mentioned Quarantines and Evacuations in some areas of the Republic. The Government had called this latest plan ‘’La solution Finale’’. It didn’t sound good but how much of what he read was really true. He could no longer make out the truth amongst all this state propaganda, always designed with a purpose in mind.

All of a sudden Olav had a big urge to go clean his cabin. He also got an instant hard-on. He felt like relieving himself right then and there but he knew that he had not deserved this release until his Cabin was spic and span. Was this the remnant effect of Mistress So Clean?

Probably it was. It made him realize that the state Brainwashing was sometimes useful and this Subliminally-delivered Program had made him long to clean up. He felt frustrated that nobody could see this Clean Cabin which he had built from birch trees with an axe. For the roof he had used moss covered by branches of spruce trees and fir.

He had removed the seat from an old Chevy truck, abandoned in a field, and made comfortable benches with them that he used to sleep on.
He sometimes missed the Pornography that was available before the Black-out. All those great photographs of Dominatrix’s, of transgender Femmes fatales and all the great stories he used to read.

He would
'Fall into temptation'
'And a trap'
'Many foolish and harmful desires'
'Plunge men into ruin and destruction'
'Wandered from the faith'
'Pierced themselves with many griefs'.

Yet, it was all so pleasant.

He would have to fabricate new sexual material, new tools and new devices one day to appease his many dark fantasies.
For now though, his main focus was on fishing and hunting. He had once attempted to fuck a fish but it was not so great. Other than that, he had definitely ruled out bestiality because animals to him were his neighbours and his only means for survival.

Nature in some way had made him more spiritual. Still he would take advantage of his stint in the City to try to get some type of pornography or sex toys in the black market in the downtown Souk. It was Friday, the prayer rituals were about to begin and it was now mandatory to prey.

TO BE CONTINUED

The Registry ...part 4 by Allexcited69

This is a work of fiction that deals with a simple future. In it, most people, if they were numbers, were now simple people with simple ideas and very simple needs. Harsh language is used and this story includes descriptions of sexual behaviour that may be considered disturbing to some.

It was now 10 am and the Sarah and her group were in the woods, not far from the road when they suddenly heard dogs. They started running away but the dogs ran faster and quickly caught up with them.

After about 10 minutes of running, they came to a clearing in the forest. However in the clearing sat an abandoned helicopter and Zion wanted to escape with it. He thought that he could fly this thing. However, Sarah had a feeling that their brief escapade had come to an end. Surely enough, groups of robot-soldiers were appearing from the other side of the forest. They moved forward in a sure-footed and precise work and had focused in on them. Those robots had all the latest technological gadgetry and had infra-red scanners that tracked their target’s every movement.

The robots shot lassoes at them and then winched the ropes quickly back to them. Sarah nearly lost her balance. She, as were the others, were being precisely pulled in like a fish on a hook. She screamed and tried to free herself but it wasn’t possible. A few minutes later, the robots had put them on board the helicopter and then somehow, everything went blank for Sarah.

When Sarah awoke, she was naked and she felt the pull of something on her breasts. She was tied down in a kneeling position and felt the cold leather halter press against her tummy. From her crotch and behind emanated all kinds of tubings and she certainly now felt ''well connected''.

Juice was being pumped into her through the mouth and rear-end. And wild suction could be felt on her wet pussy and her tits that suddenly felt considerably bigger.

There was music playing ‘’Sex bomb, sex Bomb’’ by Tom Jones and suddenly she felt very horny yet she was very anxious at the same time. What was this place? Where had they taken her friends?

She could no longer really focus as all she could really think about is about her sudden urge to come. She felt extremely sexy and Tom Jones’ voice was making this even more unbearable. About 4 or 5 hours of clitoral and anal stimulation, she must have come about 10 times and she felt exhausted and suddenly fainted.

The next day, her sleep was suddenly interrupted by a slap on her buttocks with some bushy cane. An old woman was prodding her on and shouted. ‘’It‘s time to graze outside and get some sunshine. ‘Sarah was now walking on all fours walking on her padded elbows and knees. Her arms and legs had been bound in such a fashion as to limit unfolding them. Her breasts were dragging near the floor and her breasts quickly fell into a constant state of arousal that once more made her very horny.

Out in the field, they were being encouraged to move and graze. The grass they were being encouraged to eat tasted like grass but somehow it had hallucinogenic effects on Sarah. Suddenly, she felt her head turn and felt unstable, yet horny and peaceful. She now felt more like a cow than like a woman . She was prouf of her milk production. She won two weeks in a row as ''Best producer'' which earned her more orgasms. There were a few real cows amongst them but most of the others looked like women-cows but with their heads completely shaven. Sarah felt really horny again..so horny. She wondered what she could do to get herself off again.

Maybe she could rub her pussy on the grass or on a stump standing out from the ground. The others seemed to have the same idea and she went off to her side in search for a stump she could rub against. Little else mattered. Surprisingly, she didn’t even feel bothered by the cold even though it was Fall and she was stark naked other than a leather corset that supported her Jumbo pair of tits, now the size of Cantelope Melons. At the end of the field, there was an open shelter with hay and she was attracted by the sugary smell of burning Sugar Cane.

The old woman approached Sarah and asked. ‘’Ma belle... don’t we feel horny? Sarah simply nodded as her head mask seriously limited her from opening her mouth fully. She looked around and saw the other cow-women humping some smartly-designed shafts of sugar cane hammered into the ground, while holding their upper bodies vertically by holding onto a handle with their hands. They were being encouraged to be vocal and to moo to express their gratitude and exalted states.

All that mooing around her got her completely turned on and excstatic and she fell into a sexual transe state.

The old women returned and she motioned as she talked to Sarah. ‘’Viens ici ma belle, hold on for a moment, I must glue these silver ports to your nice large breasts. They will protect them and also stimulate them into higher milk production... I want my bonus this month LOL.. .ma belle! Just give me all you've got. Don’t hold back! Just let go and feel horny. Make more milk to feed your baby NOW...ma belle. ’’

It suddenly dawned on Sarah that this was one of the world-famous milk production facilities, famous for the women’s milk which was used to make cheese. This cheese was now the glamorous new Delicacy of the Elites in Japanese and Chinese Weddings ever since the shark fin and caviar consumption had been declared uncivilised and cruel and therefore was discouraged and no longer considered politically correct.

From the looks of it, this seemed like the St-Hyacinthe facility in veterinary medicine and milk production. The problem they had was mostly precocious aging of the ‘’Producers’’, nasty teat and vaginal infections which were caused by a reaction to the bovine milk enhancement hormones and opportunistic and parasitic bacteria that preyed on their hosts’ weak immune systems.

Too much humping by the cows in the field, although favourable for increased milk production, also could create nasty micro traumas of the vaginal tissues and that’s why the plastic capping of the vagina and silver caps of the tits ultimately became inevitable. Some big bells held by a collar around the neck also ensured that the women-turned-cows were reminded of their new stations in life. Happy cows gave more milk and studies had shown that the music enhanced their milk production.

Sarah tried to mobilize feelings of outrage, anxiety or anger but somehow she couldn’t muster up those feelings anymore. She felt horny again and she read the big banners that read ‘’Vivre simplement’’ (translation: Live simply). It was the governing party’s political motto. All modern luxuries had been removed in houses because they wanted Simplicity.

Modern toilets had been removed because production units spent too much time on them which decreased productivity and those pesky toilets were hell to maintain. Also, all toilets had to go as they were held responsible for hemoroids.

A simple drain hole in the floor was considered optimal and more in line with simple living.

Sarah felt ecstatic most of the time and her thoughts now either revolved around food or sex. Her needs were now so basic. Here, she felt loved and cared for. It was certainly better than being cold and hungry in the woods. She now remembered that she had been pregnant. As she chewed on the Sugar cane before her, she wondered what had happened to her baby.

All of a sudden there was thunder and lightning in the sky. The cow-women and cows were now prodded to go back indoors.

After a few months, Sarah’s milk production was sharply on the decline. The old woman had said: ‘’ Another one bites the dust. They all do that sooner or later.But don't worry ma belle...they'll retrain you. We had to cut back on the hormones ye know.’’. Sarah suddenly worried about her fate. A new cohort of cows had been brought in recently . They seemed to be a hardy bunch of what seemed like Dutch women and she suddenly felt inadequate in comparison.

Her breasts now felt smaller and her crotch seems dry. Her libido was now much less but artificially maintained. Despite this, she still got off about every 2 hours through well-timed mechanical stimulations of her clitoris, ass and vagina but she no longer felt the urge to hump as much as before. She also felt colder especially at night. She felt that she was losing it.

The next morning, a group of tourist-like VIP's appeared at the farm. They seemed wealthy, all dressed up in fancy designer fashions. The men sported elegant suits and all wore dark sunglasses. They took pictures and measurements. They came up to Sarah’s stall. The agent said. ‘’This one here seems shabby but it has good bones and you’re buying potential.’’

One man confidently approached Sarah and with his gloved hand, he inserted his middle finger in her anus quickly as he was looking for something. He then pulled it out and brought it to Sarah’s mouth and shouted ‘’Dawai, Dawai...ma belle ’’. Sarah quickly licked the gloved finger clean as the man said. ‘’Ok, I’ll take this one...she has good attitude and good tonus ’’. The agent paced around and put a ‘’Sold’’ tag around Sarah's neck as he said to his Russian Client ‘’Back in 2010, I used to sell pre-owned cars like this every Wednesday and made tons of money. This is similar. We’re moving a lot of product here today’’.

Sarah now wondered what was in store for her, but not for long. After her evening milking, she was given an injection and she blacked out instantaneously.

TO BE CONTINUED