No one knew for sure how it had started, but it was clear now that the end was near. They'd made helicopter sweeps over barren, depopulated cities broadcasting messages in hopes of any response from survivors to no avail. Looking down from the air, Sarah could see them milling about, the white gelatinous blobs that had overrun the human race, doing their best to look enticingly feminine. It was unknown what had caused ordinary sperm to form into a new organism, the cumgirl, that existed only to turn men into maddened masturbation addicts who would spurt out more of the batter that propagated the cumgirl species. By the millions, men had been caught in amorphous harems of living spunk, plying their overactive prostates and wringing every drop from their nuts at the expense of everything else until they succumbed to exhaustion and dehydration. Left without an active fount, the cumgirls had to join the roving packs of their sisters searching through the detritus of civilization for the precious few remaining men. Even from afar, it was evident they were getting desperate, looking ravenous and starved of the male attention they craved.
The helicopter engine whined as it died, the watertight plexiglass dome that surrounded the compound closing shut to seal it off against the horde of cumgirls lined around the perimeter, who eagerly eyed the soldiers standing guard. Those rifles were worthless against the slimes, Sarah knew. Governments had tried bullets and bombs first to contain the problem before moving on to chemical weapons and nuclear desperation. Her team of scientists were some of the last trying to find a solution, if a way out was even possible. The only thing they could do for the moment was cling on, hoping to outlast the cumgirls as they depleted their sources of sperm, and run experiments with what supplies they had in hopes of a wonder spermicide or miracle cure that would turn them all back into inanimate protein.
But tensions among the survivors crowded into this compound were running high. The guns the soldiers carried were pointed at the backs of the science team, urging those Einsteins to do something useful while the men were cooped up in close quarters, forbidden from touching themselves. Being a woman in such an environment was a tenuous position, with hungry stares whenever she passed, and Sarah was worried that it wouldn't be much longer before the soldiers decided to take matters into their own hands and use whatever means necessary to calm their jangling nerves. She shuddered to imagine what they'd do to her body after spending months locked away underground, unable to stroke out a load.
The CO, Captain Rhodes, was growing increasingly unhinged. He was raving mad again tonight, as all hands were together in the mess hall eating out of dwindling rations with plastic utensils. "What the fuck is wrong with you people? I ask for solutions and you've given us a mouthful of Greek salad. Formulas, equations, a lot of fancy terms that don't mean a thing. I want to know if you're doing something to help us out of this deep shit we're all in or if you're in that unit of yours, just jerking each other off?"
The gaggle of soldiers laughed like hyenas at Rhodes' crass humor, offering their own catcalls and whistles. "How are we supposed to accomplish anything under these conditions? We need sterile workspace and proper equipment," Sarah said. "Major Cooper promised—"
"Major Cooper is dead!" Rhodes said, drawing his silver revolver and waving it around. "I'm in command now, and I'm telling you that you work with what you've got and you'd better start showing me some results. This ain't a goddamned field trip, people. This is a fucking war! I'm not down in this cave for my health, I'm down here on orders. You're telling me you don't have the shit you need? All this can be taken apart in a matter of minutes, lady, and I'm ready to do that little thing, to blow you and your highfalutin friends away and take the next train outta here!"
The door at the far end of the hall swung open, loud in the stunned silence. A wispy woman in a disheveled lab coat and scrubs entered. "Where will you go, Captain?" She said as she crossed the room to take a seat among the other scientists. She was Doctor Francine Logan, the eccentric head of the science mission. She'd isolated herself and was said to be doing unspeakable things in her laboratory that caused everyone to call her Frankenstein. The fact that her secretive research on the cumgirls caused her moans to echo off the walls of the science unit along with the dried cum staining her clothes and matted into her unkempt hair gave the impression that she was permanently at the center of an orgy. "They have you in a hopeless situation strategically,. Your only hope is the breakthroughs our labs are right on the cusp of delivering. I haven't eaten, is there food?" she said.
Hands on his hips, Rhodes paced towards Frankenstein. "You were supposed to be here at seven o' clock sharp, lady."
"I know. Sarah told me. I'm sorry I couldn't break away. Is there food?"
"Listen, egghead, let me bring you up to date on what's been—"
Francine adjusted her glasses, the lenses of which were just as spattered with dried cum as the rest of her and calmly interrupted Rhodes' raving. "Excuse me, is there food?"
The Captain slammed his fist on the table. "I'm running this monkey farm now, Frankenstein, and I want to know what the fuck you're doing with my time!