BCJ, Chapter 22: Fertility

Although cystic acne was terrible, and I never wanted to experience it again… There was something else I was much more concerned about.

“Alright, this is another… Well, a more important question to be honest. I remember waking up in a lap, hearing someone say that I was sterile? Does that mean I won’t have periods?”

[∞: If you recall someone mentioning infertility, they certainly were not discussing Anael. Experiment-77 was extremely successful in that regard. She possesses the ability to regenerate eggs indefinitely. Unless there are some complications, she should be capable of becoming pregnant very easily.]

“Holy fucksauce…” I definitely didn’t want to get pregnant after fucking myself that one time. That was like one of my worst fears.

[∞: However, by looking at the DNA of several other mammals, we discovered a way to make it possible for humans choose when to ovulate. As well as limiting menstruation. You may still experience mood swings, cramping and other symptoms of menstruation… But you should not lose much blood. You can also choose to delay or experience menstruation prematurely. The reason for this, is because there are often situations where your life may be in serious danger or you are being tracked by predators. It is also possible for Anael to terminate her own pregnancy intentionally, choose whether her child is male or female and reproduce much more swiftly than previously necessary. There are benefits to a slow and steady reproductive cycle, but during times of crisis, humanity does not have the luxury to wait thirteen to fifteen years for their offspring to become useful.]

At that moment, I realized that my greatest suspicion was true. No, I wasn’t upset about needing to have a period. And the ability to choose whether to get pregnant, decide whether I want a boy or girl, along with all that other stuff… It was all great news. Yet my faces were both extremely serious at that moment.

I knew… I could feel it. It was something I experienced many times before. An innate sense of danger. Although they didn’t explicitly state the true purpose of the Adam and Eve Project, it was pretty obvious just by looking at the name. Not to mention how they ‘needed’ to evolve humanity. They were desperate. Not just a fringe group of mad scientists. I could tell that their background was probably a lot more mainstream.

For fuck’s sake, if you looked at the movies, TV shows, the countless stories people wrote. We’ve been predicting the end of the world for thousands of years. But what would it really look like? A lot of people imagine it to be a gradual extinction of the human race, perhaps replaced by another species. People believed that every goddamn hurricane was a sign of the end or some kinda man-made disaster. What was the truth though?

When your staring at a nuclear explosion in the distance, you feel like the world is over. Ultimately though, there’s no way for a tiny fifteen-kiloton nuke to totally wipe out a whole city. People a few dozen miles away wouldn’t even have to worry about fallout. Even a thousand of those tiny bombs going off in various parts of the world wouldn’t be that big of a deal. Hell, they tested much larger and more devastating weapons right outside of Las Vegas. A lot of people got cancer, but who knows if it was caused by the radiation or smoking cigarettes?

“You’re gonna… Send me to another world, aren’t you?” I chuckled at how outrageous it sounded, but at the same time, I knew it was entirely possible. Although I had about a thousand stories left to write, I was at a point in my life, where I would have been okay with being sent to another planet. Assuming the planet was livable and not a desolate piece of shit.

[∞: Do you… Believe that you are capable of becoming an astronaut? What indications have we given that you would need to travel to another world? More importantly, why do you think that you are even qualified to perform such a task? For now, you should simply focus on the tasks we give you. If you can manage to overcome your agoraphobia and obsessive compulsive disorder, then perhaps, we can start tests that involve leaving your home.]

Yeah, it turned out that they basically thought I was completely useless. More of a mentally handicapped guinea pig, than some kinda super-soldier. Not that I blamed them. I mean, really, I was lucky that they were actually pretty nice.

{∞: Next task… Please complete this mathematics test. You may not utilize a calculator or the internet. However, you may take as much time as you need. If you cheat, a new test will be issued and your monetary reward will be void. When you have completed the task, we will contact you again.]

Have I ever mentioned how bad I am at math? At least in High School, I can’t recall ever passing Geometry. Much less and kinda advanced mathematics. Thus, before I even bothered to start on the ‘test’, I had both my bodies piss first.

When I reached the top of the stairs, I remember seeing a calendar taped to the side of the cabinet in front of me. There were a bunch of cute cat pictures around the edges and in the background, which is the main reason I even noticed it.

March 6th, 2019… Felt like time passed so quickly. Anyway, because Ana paused for a moment at the top of the stairs, Michael bumped into her from behind. She almost fell forward, but I reacted quickly and wrapped my arms around her waist. She did end up accidentally touching her hands on the cabinet and wall though, she had to go and wash them.

“You two alright?” My father was sitting in the chair near the microwave, sipping coffee from a tan ceramic mug. As I was walking past him, towards the bathroom, he told me “By the way, the cat’s out. So you can leave your door open if you want.”

“Ah, okay.” Ana turned around and pushed it open with her left foot, while I continued heading to the first-floor bathroom. The door was sticking out and kinda in the way, so I pushed it forward with my right foot, then walked towards the back door that had become visible.

It was white, like most of the walls, ceilings and doors in my house. However, it had one of those window-panes built in on the top half, that looks like four glass squares. Anyway, I turned to the right and nudged the bathroom door open again, with the side of my right foot.

Once I walked inside, I could see my reflection in the mirror-cabinet above the sink. To the left of the room was a bathtub, but the walls weren’t water-proofed or anything, so it couldn’t be used as a shower. Still, we never really used it for anything other than storage anyway. There was always a bunch of random shit, like mops, buckets and hampers in there. A small window was about five feet above the tub. Only a foot or so from the ceiling. I could see a wooden birdhouse out there, that my mother painted black.

On the right side of the room, towards the back, was a tall cabinet with two sides. Inside were a bunch of shelves, mostly covered by towels, while there was also a black stereo-radio sitting near the middle. As I turned to use the toilet, which was on the right, closer to the door, I saw another cabinet. It had two flimsy wooden doors, just like the bigger one that was next to it. However, below this one there was an uncovered shelf. On it were random books about quantum mechanics, alternate realities and blackhole. Yeah, if you thought I was weird, my father read that kinda stuff while trying to shit…

The toilet seat and cover were already pushed up against the back. They were usually that way, since my mother rarely ever used that bathroom. It was somewhat smaller than the one upstairs, and used less water. However, I never used it because for one thing, it always clogged on me. The other is obviously that I like to get right in the shower immediately after taking a shit.

Of course, I had thought about converting that bathtub into something that could be used for showers. But that just never happened. It would have been too much work. The toilet water looked like it had been flushed recently, since it was still kinda swishing around a bit. I swiftly pulled my dick out the side of my boxers, then aimed at that sweet-spot, right below the back rim. In order to avoid splashing on myself as much as possible.

“Hey Michael, don’t forget! Saturday we’ll be practicing, but Sunday, we’ll be doin your room!” My mother was in the kitchen, but she was still yelling like she thought I was deaf or something.

“Alright! Calm down…” I snickered, while starting to piss. Meanwhile, Ana was upstairs and in the bathtub, also urinating. I used the same method as before, since it seemed to work pretty well. Of course, I did accidentally get a bit on my calf, but I washed it off easily enough.


1 thought on “BCJ, Chapter 22: Fertility

  1. Pingback: Bloodline Cultivation Journal’s Table of Contents | Mike777ac

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