The Byrdhouse

I blinked awake and glanced at the woman in bed with me. She had long blond hair, and I could see her smooth, tanned bare back. I swung my feet out of bed and stood up, walking to my bathroom. It was huge and fancy, hell, even the toilet was fancy. It was a far cry from the small house my family of four had lived in. I glanced out the window as I grabbed my toothbrush. The top half of my field of vision was gorgeous, water lapping onto sand, bright blue sky, not a cloud in sight. The lower half was a concrete wall with barbed wire along the top. I frowned at it.

The thing about Fertility Containment was that nobody would choose to leave. You had incredible food, incredible women, and incredible houses. Put a wall around it and it all feels fake. It becomes nothing more than a fancy prison.

My phone buzzed, and I picked it up. It was from my mother. I scanned it and smiled a little at the sentiment she’d put into it. I hadn’t seen her for... two months now? I’ve been here for 2 years, but my family has visitation rights. My mom, sister, and brother. Like most families, I didn’t have a man who called himself my father.

My mother, Eliza, was stunning. Tumbling brown hair, gorgeous face, full lips, nice cheekbones. And the obvious stuff, too. She had a great rack, hips that were so tantalizingly sweet and thick, and her bubble butt was irresistible to any man.

My sister, Ashley, was my half-sister. She was the daughter of Mom’s boss. Or maybe her personal trainer. She’d banged them both not caring they were C's and tossed the genetics report without even opening it. She had Mom’s brown hair and pretty face, but she was petite. At nineteen, she was A cup, and her hips were anything but thick. But she was utterly gorgeous.

Maybe that sounds weird to some people, me fawning all over my family like that. It was fairly normal around my neighborhood. Or it was two years ago. I didn’t know what had happened since then.

My little brother, Nate, was my biological brother and was being tested today. Part of me hoped he’d get S, so he could come and keep me company.

“Why’d you leave?” a sultry voice asked, shaking me from my thoughts. I turned to see my bedmate, Rosella, smirking at me. Her full C cups were bare, and a thin lavender thong didn’t cover much down south. I held up my toothbrush, and she smirked.

“Well, if you’ve brushed your teeth, you can kiss me now.” she laughed. I did, and she moaned into it, my hands resting on her average hips.

Rosella was a legacy. She hadn’t been picked exclusively for S breeding, but her Mom had, so it was sort of passed down. Technically, there was a lotto based on genetic screening, but it always seemed like the wealthy and connected got picked.

I guess all this fancy stuff didn't pay for itself.

“So, Nate’s getting tested, right?” Rosella asked me.

“Yeah, how’d you know?” I asked.

“Oh, you know. Mama’s intuition.” Rosella smiled and put her hands on her stomach. She was three months pregnant with my child, and was the only girl to get pregnant from me, even though I'd cummed in at least forty. A lot of the other guys here complained at the cold treatment they got from the visiting women. I never had that problem. Maybe they should try talking to them in the one or two weeks they were here.

Rosella didn't seem to be subject to the strict rotation and I didn't know if it was because of the baby growing inside her or that legacy people were treated differently around here. She was well treated, and her mom came to visit now and again, but she made me use a condom. It was outrageous.

———

“Zachary Byrd. Please submit to testing.” a nasally voice said over the intercom. I looked up from my lunch and saw Rosella looking at me with wide eyes. They never said testing. They said examination. So what the hell were they testing?

I went quietly, walking out of the lavish home I resided in and into stainless steel, fluorescent lighted hallways. I was ushered into a room where a group of doctors waited.

“What’s this?” I asked.

“Your brother ranked F. When his information was entered into the system, it flagged some anomalies. You’re being retested.” one of the doctors said curtly. I went through the process willingly, though jacking off into a cup in full view of half a dozen stone-faced women is not how I expected this day to go. They conferred in hushed voices and harried glances as the results came through.

“Mr. Byrd. It would appear you have been placed here by mistake. You are C rank, which explains your low breeding rate. You will be escorted off-site,” the head doctor said, and I opened my mouth, but someone from behind me put a chloroform-covered cloth over my mouth and nose and I passed out.