For my wife's sake

I love my wife.

And I love my children.

So, I moved my family to the Cybele Grove Oedipal Zone for my wife’s sake.

Trouble has a way of sneaking up on you, and then you deal with the fallout. Free Use is trouble and I’m dealing with the fallout. It started with minor news stories about small European towns passing laws to encourage tourism. My wife, Jennie, and I have to look up "Free Use Laws", but are then shocked at the audacity. Surely such a gimmick will fail, and then we move on with our lives. We just had our fourth child, a son named Miles, and our sex life is great.

A few years later, we heard that Free Use was spreading across Eastern Europe, and Japanese prefectures were encouraging the practice, not just for tourism, but to combat negative population growth. My wife and I shake our heads at the fall of society, note to never travel to those areas, and then move on with our lives. Our son James, the eldest child, is entering his middle school gifted program. The stress of children, work, and life has taken a toll on our sex life, but we are still happy.

A few more years passed, the Free Use news stories increased in frequency. We heard that most of Europe, many of the Japanese provinces, and some South Asian countries were passing Free Use Laws. More places not to visit, but it will never happen to us and we move on with our lives. Our middle two children, our daughters Evie and Sylvie, have performances for us to attend. I'm diagnosed with decreased testosterone and put on medication, but the drive isn't there. Sex is infrequent as Jennie, my wife, enters her sexual prime.

A couple more years, and then the blow. A Free Use Bill was introduced in our state legislature. We join the opposition with our church congregation, trusting our political representatives to uphold the silent, moral majority. The political debate rages, and we move on with our lives while supporting the cause. Our sons work together to win a State Science Fair. Jennie channels her sexual energy into fitness. While still fairly average looking, I overhear some of James’ friends commenting that she is an ‘8 out of 10 on the MILF scale’, whatever that means. I still have no sex drive, and I know it frustrates her.

The Laws come up for legislative vote. The initial Laws were seen as female empowering and a step forward for society, which the opposition supported. A couple months of debate and the newly reworded laws are seen by the same opposition as a slippery slope. The opposition are divided. Our politicians are united. We can't lose…

We lose. The Laws pass.

Our politicians were united. United to vote FOR the Laws, except for one who opposed. That, with half of the opposition party, passed the Laws. We are betrayed. The Laws are put on the next public voting ballot. We trust the silent, moral majority will strike them down. Meanwhile, the Laws go into effect the following January, but it is voluntary to be put on the Free Use lists. Sex with my wife is once every few months, and she is insatiable. She wants more but I can't keep up, literally.

The public vote approached. Few volunteers had signed up for the Free Use lists. We hear rumors of a few around our city, but we never see anyone wearing the special badge that marks them as free use. Probably a false rumor. We are confident the Laws will be repealed.

We lose again. As we blame the loud, amoral minority, a small news story plays about a chemical spill/mist in a town called Bakerton.

Over the following weeks, the volunteer list explodes. Thousands of names, and yet we doubt that the world will change. Reality smacks us the following Sunday. As we mingle before the start of the sermon, five of the more attractive women in our congregation arrive conspicuously displaying free use badges, including Jennie’s friend Analicia. Before we can inquire, they are whisked away by members of the Church Council, we assume to receive moral guidance. The ushers open the chapel, and we prepare for the sermon. Our pastor is usually eloquent and inspiring, however this sermon is erratic. We are also distracted by members of the Church Council leaving and entering the chapel throughout the sermon. When the sermon ends, our pastor steps down from his pulpit, and we stand and turn to leave. Out of the corner of my eye I sense some motion. I poke Jennie and we look over to see Analicia rise up from behind the waist-high wall of the pulpit, wipe her mouth, and step down from the pulpit. Out in the foyer we catch glimpses of the other women, all with disheveled clothes and appearances. It is an easy conclusion to make. How could this be happening? Answers come in a news article written by an investigative journalist, Betty Smythe.

Many of the area's religious leaders and members of religious councils had publicly decried the Free Use Laws, but secretly supported and influenced the Laws’ passing. They manipulated the introduced Laws from female empowering in order to return women to their “rightful places at home”. Waiting until after the public vote when the Laws would be set, these leaders had lists of women that were "volunteered". An analysis of the Free Use list shows that 80% of the "volunteers" were from religious households from every religion. A television interview is scheduled for Betty Smythe.

My wife and I watch the interview of a pretty, 30's brunette who lays out the conspiracy that is ongoing. The manipulation by political and religious leaders, and the justifications they use such as "returning women to home and the raising of families", "the ending of prostitution and paid for sexual services", and "achieving a higher good at the sacrifice of a little moral stuffiness". The interviewer, Charles, is interrupted at one point by an intern that whispers in his ear and hands him a piece of paper.

"Betty, an associate just handed me an updated Free Use list. Is it true that you volunteered for Free Use?"

"Yes, Charles" she hangs her head allowing the fall of her straight brown hair to hide her face. "I was given a choice, and I chose this. I signed the papers this morning."

There is a moment of stunned silence. The interviewer stammers out a couple more questions which Betty answers tersely. The cameraman steps forward, leaving his camera filming as he walks to stand behind the seated Betty, bends over and reaches around to grab her breasts. Other than raising her head to look at something off camera, she offers no resistance. It is dead silent as the cameraman plays with her boobs. He unbuttons her conservative jacket to slide his hands inside her blouse and keeps squeezing.

Charles clears his throat, "Rrmm… Um... Betty, would you disrobe, please?"

Betty looks over again at the same place off camera. "I have to?" Whatever reply or signal is given, Betty resignedly stands up and begins awkwardly removing her clothing, since the cameraman continues to paw her breasts, quickly reattaching to her orbs every time he has to move to allow a piece of cloth to be removed. And since she is standing, he begins dry humping her skirt, then her panties, and finally her naked butt as Betty stands showing her naked body to America. The cameraman maneuvers Betty over to the still seated Charles and bends her over pushing her face into Charles' crotch. Betty reaches forward, unzips Charles and fishes out his hardening penis while the cameraman pulls out his organ. Several other men and one woman wander into view, rubbing their crotches as Betty sucks Charles erection into her mouth and the cameraman thrusts into her, and the scene changes as someone in the studio comes to their senses.

I sit stunned having just watched intercourse on live, broadcast television. Jennie feigns being stunned, but she must have been extremely turned on as she leans against me and starts rubbing my thigh, while some report plays about Bakerton, crisis, and the government considering new rules for the "Bakerton Zone". I try to satisfy my horny wife as best I can with my fingers and mouth, but when it ends she is clearly frustrated. I'm failing, I know it, and it hurts.

We find out from Jennie's church friend, Analicia, who had been "volunteered" for the list, that our pastor had essentially blackmailed her to sign up using information she had confessed. She refuses to tell us, but Jennie suspects that one of her children was not fathered by her husband. We discuss things Jennie has confessed, but she seems safe. Even so, we leave that church and start attending another. The new pastor has an old dormitory attached to his church, which he uses to grant religious sanctuary to women hiding from the Free Use Laws. We agree with his cause, and help to bring in supplies and necessities for the women so they never have to leave.

Time passed as we adjusted to a changing America. Betty has become the local face of the Free Use Movement. Her naked, smiling form can be seen everywhere with "Volunteer for Free Use Today" and the more famous: tits out, finger pointing, "The men of America... WANT YOU!" The Laws are expanded to make Free Use mandatory for some, such as celebrities, teachers, and almost any woman in a position of power or authority. Jennie seems safe so far as a pharmacist and a mother, but the writing is on the wall, and we both know it. Our sex life is dismal. Jennie is unhappy, and I am unhappy.

The "Bakerton Zone" is renamed an Oedipal Zone, and other locations are designated as OZ’s, but it is just one more tree in the forest of crazy. Work is especially hard for Jennie. Her boss was a good boss to work for, if a little greasy and sleazy as a man. Since the Free Use Laws, he has become intolerable. The prettiest workers had been "volunteered" by their church and satisfied him at first. Once he had a Free Use worker though, he used her as a standard for promotions and raises. "You don't suck my cock like Stephanie. She earned her raise." "You didn't spend the weekend at my home as my cumdump, like Linda. She gets the promotion." Every work day Jennie comes home with stories about her boss, male coworkers, and customers using the Free Use women. She also comes home super horny from work. Her fantasies start including the nicer, more handsome coworkers, but we both know she could never become Free Use. Random customers, strangers, and creepy SOB's like her boss would destroy her. I have to protect her. I have to come up with a plan. I start forming one, but it is .

The final straw came from our new church. One Sunday after the sermon, several of the "protected women" announce they are pregnant, proudly showing rounded bellies. This seems fine as husbands and boyfriends are allowed to visit. Although, one boyfriend, protesting innocence, gets a little shade and has to meet with the pastor for not waiting until marriage. The next Sunday a few more women announce pregnancy, and this time one has no male visitors and two other boyfriends voice virginity. It then comes out that the pastor was using the dormitory as his personal harem. He threatened the women that if they tell, they would be kicked out to be freely used by anyone. The women were required to remain quiet about their pregnancies until they started to show. We find out he has impregnated over 30 women. The husbands and boyfriends are furious. They pull out their women and seek justice.

The first husband makes the mistake of taking his wife with him to the police. The police hear his story, question the wife, and when they learn she is Free Use, have her strip naked and then proceed to take their breaks in the waiting room in front of the husband. Most of the precinct later, while he helps his cum-covered, well-used, sodomized wife to her feet, the police explain that while the pastor’s actions were underhanded, his wife is Free Use, and the pastor did not break any laws. Several other men try to approach the police, without their women, and receive the same answer. When it all settles, most of the men pull their women out from the dormitory, but some realize that one man using their woman was better than everyone using her as the church offered protection, while no protections exist for the private home of a Free Use woman.

It is clear to me that I would receive no help when the inevitable happened to my wife, and eventually my daughters. I have to protect them, and I can see only one way to do that. I talk to my boss. His wife passed away before Free Use, and I was the only one there for him which created a bond. He points out one of our chemical distribution warehouses in a little town called Cybele Grove, which recently had an increase in orders. My boss would help promote me to be manager with a raise.

I contact my best friend and lawyer, Roy. He helps me figure out the legal side, the rules, and the paperwork. All I tell my family is that I received a raise and promotion, but it requires a move.

We pack up, list our home, and move to the Oedipal Zone of Cybele Grove... for my wife's sake.