Yes

The doctor comes in with the syringe on full display and your heart drops. Part of you had been hoping that you had simply been measuring wrong in these past weeks and would make the mark come the big. But the doctor shatters your dreams by announcing that you measured at two and three quarter inches. "Please manuever yourself onto your stomach so I may proceed." he says, keeping the doorway blocked in case you decided to try and bolt.

You don't fight it and follow his instructions, not making a sound as he injects you with the serum or as you feel your organs shifting to make room for the new womb and ovaries that are being developed inside of you. He covers the normal speech about how long you have to become pregnant and the consequences of not doing you part in restoring the population. Then he gives you a pamphlet to cover any questions you might have before ushering you out the door so he can see his next patients.

You leave the Clinic feeling extrememly solemn. You had been hoping to not receive the injection so you could make sure that, whoever you bred with, wouldn't have the face the life your father had. Now you face the possibilty of trusting the wrong man and being **** to raise a child they don't want.

Slowly, you make your way home, shoving the pamphlet into your pocket to look at later.