Over a year ago Exbiker ghost wrote a story for me about a man waking up in the future after society has been rebuilt around penis size. He never finished the story, but what he wrote was pretty good. If anyone wants to take a stab at finishing the story, let me know. I have a definite ending and other details that weren't included in the first part.
A Perfect World
He remembered a little town. Might have been called St George. In another life, he’d have had memories of dragons. It was just a little place on the Utah, Arizona, Nevada border. He wasn’t quite sure which state they had gone to after that. Desert all looks the same. Driving along in a 4x4, insulated from the world, in comfort. They’d taken him to an underground facility. Under the hills. You entered through big doors, like garages or aircraft hangars, and then the road carried on into the subterranean complex. Occasionally shifting levels, occasionally curving around corners. The main memory was the lights in the ceiling. Rows and rows of bright squares. And a strange coolness. Not really cold, objectively. Just an inescapable contrast from the desert heat. And then of course … the doctors. And the machines. Bright lights in the surgical studios. That special official symbolism of the blue-green scrubs they all wore. The masks over their faces. And the plastic spectacles. Protecting them from what? He couldn’t really recall any words. Just tone, comforting. And the general theme of what they were here for. And then after that … the laying back in the cool pool. Somehow it smelled vaguely salty… and yet, so far as he could recall, salt didn’t really have a smell. And then the whirring of the machine. Buzzing of electric arcs. The regulator in his mouth, not dissimilar from the ones he’d used for scuba all those years ago. But he was already being supplied with oxygen through the pipes recirculating his blood through the machine. And that too would stop, in a few minutes. The mouthpiece was just something to hold onto, if he felt apprehensive. He closed his eyes and rested his head on the pad. The lid of the machine was closed over him, sliding shut in two sections like a hot dog bun. And he was gone. * Troy woke up slowly. He wasn’t used to that. Back in the day, he’d been an early riser. Often going out for a jog before breakfast. But this was very different. Dreams, only slowly manifesting themselves as dreams, and being put to one side, one by one, as the logic of the day reasserted itself. With a slight shock, he remembered. Maybe this meant – he was going to be OK! But then, an urgent question. He opened his eyes and sure enough there was somebody sitting there, with a notepad. Probably a doctor but he couldn’t really be sure. “I … uh” “Where am I? What is the … um … can you tell me the date?” The man looked at him. Good looking type, short clipped beard, seemed gentle and kind. “Yeah well. Um. That’s the thing. You know where you’ve been, what’s happened … why you are here? I just need to check some things before we’re ready to give that kind of … ah … input. So can you tell me your name?” “I’m Troy Vine, 30 years old, from Springfield, Illinois”. “OK. And so do you remember why you were here?” “Um … yeah … I had an an inoperable cancer and they decided the only thing they could do for me, was put in me in suspension, or whatever they call it … til a cure had been found? So… I don’t know if all the … you know … if the computers keep track of it all properly … but I’m assuming that’s why I am awake now?” The man nodded. “I should introduce myself, Troy. My name is Nurse Farmer. And yes, you are remembering properly, so that’s a good sign.” Troy looked at him carefully. “And … my illness? Can it be fixed now?” Farmer showed a strange mix of kindness and humour. “Yes. Basically, yes. We can do something for you now. And – well. You’re going to have to understand that rather a lot has changed in the world. There have been great … improvements, advances. Both socially and technologically. “What do you mean?” “Let me start to show you”. And then Dr Farmer stood up, and Troy was shocked to see that the man’s genitalia were hanging out of the front of his trousers. It looked like there was a ring of elastic or something, around a hole cut in the cloth, because it all seemed to fit quite cleverly, like it was intended to. Big fat cock, maybe 6 inches, apparently fully soft, and balls in a scrotum that was neither too loose nor too tight. He caught his breath. “Um … I don’t get it? I mean … I see you’re quite impressive and so on, but … but … why are you showing me that … isn’t that illegal?” Dr Farmer stayed self assured, calm, kind. “Well, no. That’s the point. You’ve been asleep a long time. Are you prepared for this?” Troy nodded carefully. “It’s been one hundred and sixty one years. The downside of this … you’ll need to find the time to be able to … mourn … the people you knew, who have now gone. And, you’ll need to get used to a new identity. A new role. In our new society.” Dr Farmer let that sink in. He watched and waited as Troy gulped in silence. His eyes widened and closed. And then he seemed to relax. “OK?” Troy nodded. “And yes, there have been many changes. Most notably, the Size Statues of 2063 have changed our society quite a lot. For the better. You’ll find out all about it over the next few days.” Troy looked confused and thoughtful. Nodding slowly. “Um … OK. But can you give me an outline just now?” Farmer looked right into Troy’s eyes. “OK. Well. What do you think of my penis?” Troy nodded at it. “Well. Like I said. It’s very impressive. Biggest one I have ever seen. It freaks me out slightly that I can see it, but in and of itself, I guess it’s fine. Particularly fine. But I’m not gay or anything. Did my record not show that?” “I’m not gay either, Troy. And no. The records they kept back then missed out quite a few key points. But that’s what I am going to have to get across to you. Look. Now, for the last 100 years give or take, men have displayed their penis in public. Its very very unusual for there to be situations in which you don’t show your genitals. Really just when health and safety demands it, like working machinery, or serving food in some situations. And that in turn has changed our society. Certain things become much easier this way. There is a kind of hierarchy, based on penis size. Our leaders are naturally the men with the largest penises. Everyone works at various levels depends on penis size. And listen …” Farmer looked down as if slightly embarrassed. “… I’m not that large. Slightly below average in fact, though only slightly. Nurses are respected, but we’re not in the top ranks of society, just like we weren’t in your day. But there are men 50% bigger than me, as well as some 25% smaller. But there is a lower limit below which men are not able to function within our society. It’s not decent to make men display a penis less than 4 inches soft, and so they live in another way, elsewhere.” Troy stuttered, thinking as he spoke. “But that’s absurd. Cocks aren’t that big? Not on average? What’s going on?” Farmer nodded patiently. “Yes. Well. Once men have being displaying their genitals for 100 years, that means that … um … mate selection by females starts to change. So, the general trend in all that time has been toward larger penises. It’s only a trend, but it’s there. So … on average now, men are slightly longer than me. There are quite a few smaller, that’s true. But also a lot are larger. Some, much larger. So it all works out quite nicely really, for all of us. Except the Smalls, maybe, who I am supposed to show you on a tour of the facility, either later today, or tomorrow. Though there’s a school of thought that says even they are quite happy where they are”. Troy slowly tried to take it all in, breathing, thinking. He then asked “ah … is there anything to eat? I’m feeling like I really need to do that soon.” Farmer laughed. “Yes, this always happens. We’re ready with some food, I’ll have it brought in.”
Well that is all he wrote. What do you guys think?
A Perfect World
He remembered a little town. Might have been called St George. In another life, he’d have had memories of dragons. It was just a little place on the Utah, Arizona, Nevada border. He wasn’t quite sure which state they had gone to after that. Desert all looks the same. Driving along in a 4x4, insulated from the world, in comfort. They’d taken him to an underground facility. Under the hills. You entered through big doors, like garages or aircraft hangars, and then the road carried on into the subterranean complex. Occasionally shifting levels, occasionally curving around corners. The main memory was the lights in the ceiling. Rows and rows of bright squares. And a strange coolness. Not really cold, objectively. Just an inescapable contrast from the desert heat. And then of course … the doctors. And the machines. Bright lights in the surgical studios. That special official symbolism of the blue-green scrubs they all wore. The masks over their faces. And the plastic spectacles. Protecting them from what? He couldn’t really recall any words. Just tone, comforting. And the general theme of what they were here for. And then after that … the laying back in the cool pool. Somehow it smelled vaguely salty… and yet, so far as he could recall, salt didn’t really have a smell. And then the whirring of the machine. Buzzing of electric arcs. The regulator in his mouth, not dissimilar from the ones he’d used for scuba all those years ago. But he was already being supplied with oxygen through the pipes recirculating his blood through the machine. And that too would stop, in a few minutes. The mouthpiece was just something to hold onto, if he felt apprehensive. He closed his eyes and rested his head on the pad. The lid of the machine was closed over him, sliding shut in two sections like a hot dog bun. And he was gone. * Troy woke up slowly. He wasn’t used to that. Back in the day, he’d been an early riser. Often going out for a jog before breakfast. But this was very different. Dreams, only slowly manifesting themselves as dreams, and being put to one side, one by one, as the logic of the day reasserted itself. With a slight shock, he remembered. Maybe this meant – he was going to be OK! But then, an urgent question. He opened his eyes and sure enough there was somebody sitting there, with a notepad. Probably a doctor but he couldn’t really be sure. “I … uh” “Where am I? What is the … um … can you tell me the date?” The man looked at him. Good looking type, short clipped beard, seemed gentle and kind. “Yeah well. Um. That’s the thing. You know where you’ve been, what’s happened … why you are here? I just need to check some things before we’re ready to give that kind of … ah … input. So can you tell me your name?” “I’m Troy Vine, 30 years old, from Springfield, Illinois”. “OK. And so do you remember why you were here?” “Um … yeah … I had an an inoperable cancer and they decided the only thing they could do for me, was put in me in suspension, or whatever they call it … til a cure had been found? So… I don’t know if all the … you know … if the computers keep track of it all properly … but I’m assuming that’s why I am awake now?” The man nodded. “I should introduce myself, Troy. My name is Nurse Farmer. And yes, you are remembering properly, so that’s a good sign.” Troy looked at him carefully. “And … my illness? Can it be fixed now?” Farmer showed a strange mix of kindness and humour. “Yes. Basically, yes. We can do something for you now. And – well. You’re going to have to understand that rather a lot has changed in the world. There have been great … improvements, advances. Both socially and technologically. “What do you mean?” “Let me start to show you”. And then Dr Farmer stood up, and Troy was shocked to see that the man’s genitalia were hanging out of the front of his trousers. It looked like there was a ring of elastic or something, around a hole cut in the cloth, because it all seemed to fit quite cleverly, like it was intended to. Big fat cock, maybe 6 inches, apparently fully soft, and balls in a scrotum that was neither too loose nor too tight. He caught his breath. “Um … I don’t get it? I mean … I see you’re quite impressive and so on, but … but … why are you showing me that … isn’t that illegal?” Dr Farmer stayed self assured, calm, kind. “Well, no. That’s the point. You’ve been asleep a long time. Are you prepared for this?” Troy nodded carefully. “It’s been one hundred and sixty one years. The downside of this … you’ll need to find the time to be able to … mourn … the people you knew, who have now gone. And, you’ll need to get used to a new identity. A new role. In our new society.” Dr Farmer let that sink in. He watched and waited as Troy gulped in silence. His eyes widened and closed. And then he seemed to relax. “OK?” Troy nodded. “And yes, there have been many changes. Most notably, the Size Statues of 2063 have changed our society quite a lot. For the better. You’ll find out all about it over the next few days.” Troy looked confused and thoughtful. Nodding slowly. “Um … OK. But can you give me an outline just now?” Farmer looked right into Troy’s eyes. “OK. Well. What do you think of my penis?” Troy nodded at it. “Well. Like I said. It’s very impressive. Biggest one I have ever seen. It freaks me out slightly that I can see it, but in and of itself, I guess it’s fine. Particularly fine. But I’m not gay or anything. Did my record not show that?” “I’m not gay either, Troy. And no. The records they kept back then missed out quite a few key points. But that’s what I am going to have to get across to you. Look. Now, for the last 100 years give or take, men have displayed their penis in public. Its very very unusual for there to be situations in which you don’t show your genitals. Really just when health and safety demands it, like working machinery, or serving food in some situations. And that in turn has changed our society. Certain things become much easier this way. There is a kind of hierarchy, based on penis size. Our leaders are naturally the men with the largest penises. Everyone works at various levels depends on penis size. And listen …” Farmer looked down as if slightly embarrassed. “… I’m not that large. Slightly below average in fact, though only slightly. Nurses are respected, but we’re not in the top ranks of society, just like we weren’t in your day. But there are men 50% bigger than me, as well as some 25% smaller. But there is a lower limit below which men are not able to function within our society. It’s not decent to make men display a penis less than 4 inches soft, and so they live in another way, elsewhere.” Troy stuttered, thinking as he spoke. “But that’s absurd. Cocks aren’t that big? Not on average? What’s going on?” Farmer nodded patiently. “Yes. Well. Once men have being displaying their genitals for 100 years, that means that … um … mate selection by females starts to change. So, the general trend in all that time has been toward larger penises. It’s only a trend, but it’s there. So … on average now, men are slightly longer than me. There are quite a few smaller, that’s true. But also a lot are larger. Some, much larger. So it all works out quite nicely really, for all of us. Except the Smalls, maybe, who I am supposed to show you on a tour of the facility, either later today, or tomorrow. Though there’s a school of thought that says even they are quite happy where they are”. Troy slowly tried to take it all in, breathing, thinking. He then asked “ah … is there anything to eat? I’m feeling like I really need to do that soon.” Farmer laughed. “Yes, this always happens. We’re ready with some food, I’ll have it brought in.”
Well that is all he wrote. What do you guys think?
