It was the year 2220. Humanity had evolved in several ways since the time in which you are likely reading this, and with one exception humanity was far, FAR better off than in your time.

Technology had merged with nearly all biological sciences and created a near bliss like state of perfect health, fitness, and happiness. Despite what many of the futurists of your time believed would be the case, humanity’s uptick in population had leveled off at around the 40 billion mark in 2120 and had stayed roughly the same for the last 100 years. I’m sure you’ll immediately be shocked by the increase in population from the mere 8 billion people in your time, but it wasn’t all bad, and “population control” wasn’t at all necessary, nor was there any ridiculous need to begin euthanizing people over 170 years of age. Not that we were immortal, by any means. DNA snipping in real time just meant there was no more cancer, no more obesity, no more need for hospitals, basically no more physical struggle of any kind. For those of you wondering, ‘but how do you FEED than many people??’, the explanation is amazingly simple. Once mass clean energy desalination factories were established every 10 miles along nearly every ocean coast in the WORLD, it was relatively simple to set up the distribution of instantaneous clean water delivered dozens and eventually hundreds of miles from each of these factories, similar to the railroad systems your countries established in the 1800’s.

With fresh, clean water immediately available basically everywhere in the world, combined with dna modifications to carrots, sweet potatoes, and many other roots, the entire world had vitamin rich sustenance available to support a population 10 times the size we had in 2220. Additionally, the roots could be modified to taste like chocolate, strawberries, or steak, which most of our population preferred, or at least had come to accept. Unfortunately, the global vote of 2090 locked in those three flavors as the only ones available, but 3-4 others were occasionally attainable for citizens with enough glocreds (global credits).

I digress, If you ARE reading this, then perhaps my mission was successful… then again, perhaps not. Only I will ever know. You see, I (along with my benefactors) had possibly returned humanity to their petty nationalism, war, and general squabbling by our attempt to correct things. We had also possibly ceased our own individual existences, which isn’t necessarily possible if you’re reading this, but entirely possible if you aren’t. Forgive my future-humor. futumedy? Comiture? Fu-com. That’s better.

Regardless, One day I might travel back to your time again, which again, could cause my non existence. This is my attempt to chronicle my mission to solve the one problem we in the future have. You see, a contagion that began slowly but surely stunting growth throughout humanity in 2045 was eventually contained through the healing powers (hint… ‘magical’ semen) of a small group of people with a very specific subset of DNA. By the year 2220, which is MY time, this lead to a bunch of smaller people among the general population, and a very small group of us larger people that had the cure. Not giants, per say, just slightly taller than… hmmmm… the “basketball” players in your time.

This has lead to the over dependence of the very VERY small percentage of the population which had evolved to be The Curers. You see, specific strains of DNA could be modified, but not exactly CREATED. This meant that those of us that had the specific DNA strain that allowed the rest of the population to be free from the effects of the contagion could not be replicated, other than a long line of careful breeding. Ridiculous, you might think. Why not just modify the DNA of non Curers to match that of the Curers?? We had spent the last 100 years attempting to do so with very disappointing results. For instance, you can’t make a frog into a dog, or a horse into a human. Much the same way, our specific subset of DNA made us highly sought after in the world, and we were traded by continents (there were no longer nations) much in the same way the televised sports teams of your time traded highly performing athletes. Revered, loved, and admired by all, there were many, many benefits to being a Curer. Chief of which, in my opinion, was spreading the cure contained in our semen throughout the world.

It might help if I start my story a day or two before I was ***********ed to help the people of your time and to give you a glimpse into my life in my own time, followed by the reason I was sent back, and finish off with the 72 hours I spent in your time.

I awoke early on a summer day in the metropolis of Denver, North America, population 20 million. My balls were killing me, But my services had already begun and I was glad I wasn’t sleeping though them. I had been traded to this continent 2 weeks ago, and I certainly preferred the difference in skin tone and cultural DNA appearance choices the people in this metropolis found popular. Trends are trends, but it was enjoyable to experience the choices I had in people to service me in this city. In my entire 86 years, I had never been provided a ***********ion that was so close to my (latest) preferences. The fashion trends in this city were perfect for me.

There were thousands of applicants to choose from! Of those, there were perhaps 200 that fit the profile I found most enjoyable in my initial filter. Our preferences were a carefully guarded secret among the Curers, and until we were traded, there was a bit of a concern about how specific we might be, but there were always rumors released ahead of time that put the welcoming city’s administrators at ease. My tastes were fairly old fashioned. I only preferred women of breeding age, and had long since tired of the heavily modified sorts that some of the other Curers were rumored to prefer. No more HH cup breasts, grafted tails, or nipples on ass cheeks for ME, thank you very much.

This servicer had already detached the collector tubes and massaging unit from my genitals and was stimulating me manually which roused me from my slumber. That and the horrible pain in my testicles. I opened my eyes slowly, curious as to how close to my preferences this servicer would be. I was more than pleasantly surprised. This servicer was kneeling beside the bed and appeared to petite and lithe with wide, round, blue eyes which was one of the features I had chosen in the applicant list. Her light blonde, mid length hair was pulled into pigtails, as I had listed on the instruction sheet in the waiting room. Servicers were highly encouraged to adhere to this list. She had already disrobed and was extremely thin and had small breasts which was my preference, but a rarity in these times!

“Good morning, Curer! May I call you Master?” She requested with a bright smile. She was gorgeous! My cock stirred.

“Certainly, thank you for asking.”, I replied. “What may I call you, Servicer?” I requested.

“My name is… Belinda.” She replied immediately realizing her slip up. “But… You may CALL me Slave, Master! Or… Tiny Slut!” She looked pleased with herself. I waited. She looked as if she were trying to recall something. “Or… Whore…?” She added with a slight look of confusion. She HAD read the instruction sheet fully. I could forgive the slight confusion she had in providing her real name.

“Pleased to meet you… Belinda.” I replied, calling attention to her mistake by using her given name for now. I was mildly distracted suddenly by a small red blinking light far to the left of my bed.

“Master? What is a Whore?” Belinda questioned me while continuing her attempt (with some success) to manually stimulate me. Something wasn’t right, I was getting aroused much more quickly that normal. I decided to gather my genitals and roll away from her to check the indicator.

“It’s an ancient term for…” I stopped suddenly and focused on the equipment.

Shit! The collector had malfunctioned at some point during the night! I checked the settings. 4 fucking hours!?? Jesus… the safeguards were supposed to deactivate the massager but it had somehow remained active. This wasn’t supposed to happen. No wonder my balls hurt. Fucking podunk town. This servicer was definitely in for a rough time.

“Uhhhmmmm… how many Servicers were in the waiting room when your number was called?” I asked, gathering my genitals and rolled back over toward her. I didn’t feel like checking the queue on the other side of my bed.

“Only 2, Master, but it is still early. I’m sure more will arrive at THEIR times…”, she replied with a pout. She had a set amount of time with me, and I was wasting some of it, while I was asking about the next girls in line. Not cool, as people from your era would say. She knew she was lucky to have been ***********ed, but rules are rules and she was going to be out of her allotted time soon. Administration would give her a free additional treatment, at the very least.

“Not to worry, Slave…”, I said irritably while trying to calculate over 4 hours worth of missed treatments, “you’ll be getting a LOT more treatment than you’re supposed to. There looks like there has been a malfunction with the collector.”

“MASTER! Thank you!!” She squealed, jumping up and clapping excitedly. Her tiny tits bounced slightly as she did so. Blood began to flow to my genitals.

“Ummm… I’m sorry, this is unusual but we’re going to have to combine the other 2 sessions with yours…”, I started. I thought, noticing how painful my testicles felt. She looked more than downtrodden at this.

“But Master that’s not fai…” she complained.

“…You’ll have at least 3 times the session length as a result”, I continued. She raised her eyebrows and suddenly looked very pleased. “AND… I’ll let you be in charge of the others…” I finished. Now she was absolutely beaming with delight. She gave off an actual squeak. Way too cute. My cock lurched. My balls hurt, we REALLY needed to start.

“Run and get the other two servicers, quickly!” I said. She ran out excitedly and didn’t even bother to grab her robe off of the hanger.

I stood up to check out how bad off I was. Fuck! My balls were in bad shape. Normally orange sized, they were swollen and painful and looked like distended grapefruit. I was going to need relief quickly. Thankfully my cock was already mostly hard. These poor girls were going to be very well taken care of today. Precum was starting to run down the tip of my cock, so I grabbed the stationary collection glass from my bedside just in time as a massive amount of precum drooled out of my member. Right then, Belinda walked back in with the other two servicers in tow. They both looked very excited, Belinda must’ve filled them in on my situation. All three of them slowed a pace as they glanced down at what I was doing, their gazes transfixed on the seed they were there to collect pooling into the collection glass.

“No time for pleasantries, girls…” I said towering over them noticing the extreme height difference between them and my 6’10” height. Damn… they were all very short, petite, and very attractive.

“Yes master!” They all said, practically in unison. The other two girls were already disrobing excitedly as Belinda shut the door, not even bothering to hang up their garments as Belinda had while I slept.

“Belinda, on your knees quickly!”, I practically shouted trying to snap her out of it.

She sprang into action and got underneath me a second too late as at least a half cup of precum suddenly drooled out of my giant cock and into her hair before she had a chance to look up and open her mouth.

“Awwww!!!” She whined disappointedly as the other girls froze, completely stunned. Her hair was plastered but some dripped down her forehead running down along either side of her nose. She was in place now though, and more suddenly drooled out into her mouth which she gulped down immediately. She attached her mouth to the tip of my cock to collect more while the other girls came to their senses and rushed to each side of her to try and get their share.

I couldn’t believe my luck as I sized up the other two girls. One had black hair and was surprisingly short, under 5’ I guessed. She was almost emaciatedly thin but had perky b cup tits with pink puffy nipples. Her ribs and hip bones were clearly visible and she didn’t have an ounce of fat on her… the B cups somehow looked large on her!

“Put your face next to Belinda’s and open your mouth, Tiny SLUT!” I commanded which she did before I even finished speaking, looking up at me, moaning, with her hands on her knees and her back arched. I moved my cock from Belinda’s mouth quickly to Tiny Slut’s, but precum was flowing too quickly and some drooled out on their cheeks on the way, splashing on Tiny Slut’s nose before I lined it up with her mouth. More drooled out filling her mouth which she swallowed as quickly as possible. No time! I moved back to Belinda while commanding the third girl to open her mouth. Belinda swallowed half a cup more and I had a chance to time things properly this time and moved to the third girls waiting open mouth.

Finally having a chance to notice the third girl, I realized she looked like she could be Belinda’s twin! Although, she seemed much shorter and tinier framed than Belinda in general. She was almost completely flat chested with prominent puffy nipples attached to her chest. Even with the miracles of modern biotechnology, these girls looked much to young to be accepted as servicers, possibly even in their 20’s! What was the deal here? She definitely did a good job gulping down copious globs of my precum, but I had some questions. I planned my timing and switched back to Belinda’s open mouth as I noticed my precum finally slowing in volume.

Belinda has gotten 3 times as much as the other girls, and thankfully I had just a minute to speak before beginning their treatments in earnest.

“It sounds like Belinda filled you in girls,” I began. “What may I call you?”, I asked as I looked in turn at the two on each side of Belinda.

“You’ve already named me. Tiny Slut, Master!”, said the black haired one. She was very pale skinned and had bright blue eyes. I didn’t recall ***********ing her, but with 200 initial candidates, it was possible one slipped my mind.

“And you are?” I asked turning to the prepubescent looking twin of Belinda’s on my right.

“I’ll be… Whore, Master!” She replied. Studious indeed! She wasn’t too young to read my list thoroughly while she was in the waiting room.

“Please state your ages girls.” I asked with curiosity as I stroked my cock with both hands.

“30.” Replied Tiny Slut.

“38.” Replied Belinda.

“25.” Replied Whore.

They were all beginning to squirm a bit. Perhaps they weren’t aware of what was in the pill I required them to take upon check in.

“25?? How did you get admitted?” I asked with curiosity. There weren’t any set age limitations for treatment, per say, however most of the recipients in other cities I had worked for were in the 50-70 year range. Although, it was nearly impossible to tell ages in our time, since the utilization of cellular regeneration began in the 22nd century.

I angled my cock toward Tiny Slut and she began sucking happily as Belinda replied, “Our region has been without a Curer for nearly 20 years, Master. People who have never received treatments before have been prioritized…” THAT was a tiny fucking detail left out when they approached me with the contract, I thought irritably. No wonder these girls were so skinny! These people were left without treatments for 20 fucking years??? Fucking cheapskate city administrators had probably low balled other Curers and saved for quite some time to afford ME. I’d have to be careful to not take my anger out on these 3 youngsters.

“And… Slave???” I demanded, sensing there was more information she had. I placed my left hand idly on the top of Tiny Slut’s head to direct her to make longer and slightly deeper strokes with her mouth.

She gulped hesitantly, “And… city officials’… ummm… offspring have also been… prioritized.”, she admitted. Tiny Slut made a slightly judgmental grunt through her mouthful of cock at this, and gave an irritated look to her left at Belinda. She probably wasn’t supposed to be sharing this information.

Great. Fucking nepotism. So after starving their citizens for the cure for 20 years they put their OWN families first in line. I might NOT avoid taking my anger out on these 3… though ***********ing servicers with no prior treatment was certainly a fair decision. Probably “decided” upon by the administrators to avoid being fucking ousted by the general population. Trying to save their own asses didn’t equal fair, I decided.

I responded by thrusting my pelvis forward as Tiny Slut made a regular descent into my cock, resulting in a, “gllllgggggGGG!”, sound from her, preventing her from withdrawing for a moment with my hand, as she opened her eyes wide in shock. She deserved that.

“Belinda, is there any relation between you and Whore?”, I asked.

“Yes Master! She’s my little sister, Elsie!”, she replied with a wince realizing she wasn’t supposed to provide her name. I didn’t mind.

I had developed a soft spot for Belinda in the mere 15 minutes since I had met her, but the other two would leave here with a few horror stories as warnings to their older family members that were fucking over their citizens.

“Thank you Belinda.”, I replied pulling my cock from Tiny Slut’s mouth and moved it past Belinda’s mouth to Elsie’s, eliciting a slight whine of disappointment from Belinda. I placed the head into Elsie’s mouth which she accepted gratefully, and began bobbing up and down on the first 3 inches or so of my cock. She wouldn’t be able to take even close to half of my length until the pill kicked in.

“Since none of you have ever received treatment before, this may be… uncomfortable initially. I’m sure you’ve heard stories about this from others who’ve received treatment. Are you ready to be stretched girls?” I asked, watching their faces for hesitation.

To be continued…

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