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The Collective (Devilla Roche x Greg Grey)

Devilla-Roche

Supernova
Joined
Mar 18, 2013
Location
Norway
Scientists knew a plague would finally happen. The “Super Virus” as it had been called by the press had swept through the United States, Europe, and much of Asia after having made its way through the southern hemisphere. The CDC did its best to try to come up with what was their ‘best guess’ at a flu shot for the upcoming winter. Unfortunately, they couldn’t nail it down and many people had died. The plague did not discriminate as it hit everyone, from the young and old, women and men, it didn’t matter what your background was. Status did not protect a person. Luckily, the virus was swift and people died within three days of being infected.

Structure was the first to go. The President and the U.S. Congress were wiped out. People who ran the government at all levels were gone. People who survived were in a state of shock and panic. What were they to do?

Oddly, mostly women had survived. It was later determined that these women had high levels of hormones, especially their level of estrogen. For the men, well, they survived but not without some unusual side-effects. Their brains, in the frontal cortex, began to dim, and they were more and more creatures of their base instincts - not the least of which was their libido. These were hardly the strong men that they once were and became more and more fixated on sex, on thoughts of the female body. Clearly they could not take the lead at the simplest of levels. They could not lead a household, let alone run a country. These surviving men found it harder and harder to resist the temptations of this new, budding society, of ultra-fertile women everywhere.

Figures could not be calculated, but it seemed that for every thousand women, only one man survived. This meant that the new government was entirely run by women. No doubt, this was a brave new world.

As the first year after the plague came and went, there was finally some assemblance of ‘life as usual’ as infrastructure slowly began to come back on-line. The United States of America was now replaced with the now all-female run Women’s Republic of America or the WRA. The leadership in the WRA’s senate passed sweeping legislation that severely limited the rights of men. They could no longer own property and lost the right to vote. Known simply as male subjects, it became illegal to employ men. If not previously betrothed, men were ordered to choose a wife and surrender all remaining assets and all possessions to them. Any non-wed men will be assigned a wife by the newly formed Collective.

And so our story begins....
 
The first email…

To: greggrey@thecollective.org
From: millicentaubrey@thecollective.org

Greg,

I don’t know if you remember me, but I worked with your wife Jill at the hospital. I’m Millicent Aubrey. You might recall that I was the one who lived near the hospital. Jill used to crash at my place after a double shift at the hospital. Jill used to bring you to our Christmas party. You might remember me, I was the one who dressed up as Marilyn Monroe at the last party. What a blast that was.

Anyway, I found out that Jill died through The Collective. I want to give you my condolences. Jilly was truly a devoted nurse and a good friend. When I saw her name among the many others who didn’t make it due to this horrible plague, well, as you can imagine I was saddened. I was hoping she had been one of the lucky ones.

Of course, I happened to come across your name and your assigned email address, so I decided to send out this email to you.

I don’t see too many men these days. So many women. Things are so weird. It would be nice to meet up with you and chat. I’ve heard that there are men in hiding. Is this your situation? Jill would hate to think that you are like a hermit, holed up somewhere out of fear. It would be nice to have some male companionship, even if it’s just a date. I could meet you somewhere, or pick you up in my car.
Well, think about. Looking forward to hearing from you.

Love and kisses,
Milly

PS Here’s a picture of me that I attached.

174994_denise_milani_white_sweater_002_300.jpg
 
With a deep breath, I turned from the computer that morning, and stood. A pause, another deep breath, and I decided to take a walk. Mornings were safe for that, usually.

In the dusty, darkened stairwell, I descended the seven sets of stairs briskly, trying to put this last email out of my mind. I hadn't responded to the countless messages I had gotten from all the other women, all the others desperate to find a mate, desperate to start on the treatments - to “live forever”, if the propaganda of the Collective was to be believed - if only they could secure one of the few remaining men. Like me.

Problem was...I knew her. Milly. Not well; an acquaintance, really, from the past times. A nice girl, too. Young - maybe mid-twenties? Sweet, if I remember. She was harder to ignore.

Her email was pleasantly innocent, I thought. Not like many of the others that I had started receiving weeks ago, as soon as I was "registered" as an unassigned male and given this email address to use on the rudimentary system the new government had recently put on-line. I had registered, ostensibly, to receive food and supplies, rations to take back to my little hovel. But also - I knew - they were registering any unassigned males so they could…watch them.

Since then, there were many blatant offers thru this email, offers for deviant, carnal pleasures, promises for a future life with a doting, attentive partner, growing to fulfill my every fantasy....those scared me.

And this one should too, I reminded myself, as I set off down the river path towards downtown for a walk, putting it out of my thoughts, and trying to forget that picture of her...

And I was pretty successful, until that next email came...
 
To: greggrey@thecollective.org
From: millicentaubrey@thecollective.org

Dear Greg,

It's Milly again. I had a crazy thought. Well it's not that crazy really, but would you want to come over to my house for maybe some dinner? Say tonight at around 7 o'clock? I figure this would be a nice way to meet again. Truth be told, I really miss making a good meal for a man. I'm a pretty good cook if I do say so myself. Besides, I thought maybe you might like want some companionship and a home cooked meal. If you can't, well, I understand.

By the way, I no longer live in my little apartment by the hospital. The Collective gave me this big house overlooking the ocean. It's maybe a little too big, but I love it. All of the rooms have really high ceilings and the view is spectacular. My address is 77 Beach Avenue if you can make your way over. If you'd rather have me come by and pick you up in my car, just send me your address. I know it's rough out there for you men. The last thing I would want is for you to get noticed by some of those desperate women looking for a husband.

Let me know either way.

Love and kisses,
Milly
 
It's been a few days, but I bring myself back to check my email. I was freaked out, a little, reading that initial email from Milly. I realized over the past couple days that I shouldn't ignore her. First, we all know the day is coming - we talk about it when we get together, the small group of "bachelors" I know in the city - where the government will assign us to a wife, if we don't choose one ourselves. We think it's soon, with what we read in the papers. And - of anyone - wouldn't someone who I know, even just a little, be better than a stranger? But still...maybe I could run away, go into hiding...

But Second - I don't want to be rude.

And third...this is what I can't believe I'm admitting. I couldn't resist it, any longer...going back to my email. Truth is, I was...horny. Ever since the Event, my arousal has been this persistant fire in my belly, impossible to ignore. And the images these beautiful women, women who wanted me. I knew I shouldn't...pleasure myself...to them. Each climax shrunk me, I knew, by fractions of an inch. So I tried to keep from doing it as much as I could.

But I still like to look at the pictures...I look for new ones, from new women...and I see the newest email from Milly. She wants me over for dinner? I look at the picture she had sent a few days ago...she's obviously trying to show off her breasts in it, to me. And, oh man...the Event was kind to her - it was to all the women who survived. She was curvy, cutely so, before. She looks bigger now, big even compared to all the other women I see walking around....and she's so pretty...

...I know I have to be careful. I don't have to commit to anything. But, yes, I'm going to break one of my own rules. It's a moment of weakness. It's late at night. I email her back...





To: millicentaubrey@thecollective.org
From: greggrey@thecollective.org


Hi Milly-

So great to hear from a familiar face. I do remember you from Jill's work parties. You worked in the pediatric department when Jill was there, before she moved to cardiology - is that right? Those were fun little parties - they seem like so long ago!

Sorry it took me so long to get back to you. Busy, you know...doing nothing :) Actually I'm in the process of moving apartments again, so there's that. I'm far from "holed up like a hermit" lol ---> I do live alone but I get together with friends all the time. Dinner, though, sounds nice sometime - can I take a raincheck, maybe until after I'm done moving?

Take care-

-Greg
 
Oh man...my hands are all sweaty, my heart's beating so fast, after sending that...

...what have I done?
 
The poor thing, so scared. I bet he's afraid to meet me because of his size. I've heard about the effects from the virus, how men have had their libidos in overdrive and how they have been shrinking little by little. He must be embarrassed by his size, especially when he comes across a woman. I guess I will need to be more comforting, more motherly in my approach. I'll get what I want eventually, I'll have him one way or another and then I will be placed in the program. Oh yes, I'll get what I want, to grow even more and have a man that I can unbirth and rebirth.
 
Maybe she...maybe she's different. Maybe she would just want to...talk with me. Maybe she's not looking for anything else, right now.

I have been so lonely...
 

And...anyway...maybe it wouldn't be so bad...being with a woman. Having someone to take care of me...the way women do now. I can imagine Milly...being bigger. Getting bigger...would it be so bad, being with her? If I started to shrink further, if i had her to take care of me? I've seen pictures, videos of women on the treatment...oh my god. If she started to grow...to that...

...no, Greg. stop. stop it.
 
To: greggrey@thecollective.org
From: millicentaubrey@thecollective.org

Dear Greg,

I'm so glad you remembered me! When I hadn't heard back from you regarding my dinner invitation, well I thought you had forgotten who I was. I mean you only mett me a handful of times. It was very nice that you actually rememered that I had worked with Jill in the pediatric department at the hospital.

Also, I'm glad you also recalled those parties. I agree, they werre a lot oof fun. I think you and I danced at least once at the last party. I recall you being pretty good on your toes. ; )

So your moving? Where to? I'd be more than happy to give you a helping hand. I can even help you clean up your new place. Just let me know.

On a serious note, Jill was a good friend. She spoke about you a lot. Somehhow, I feel like I know you. That's one of the reason's I reached out to you. I think Jill would be comforted knowing that I found you. Is it crazy for me to think that I'm responsible for your well being? Please feel free to let me help you in any way I can.

Love and kisses,
Milly
 
There, that should do it. Jill, sweety, I know your up there and I know that you'd be happy having me look out for your Greg.....if his response is what I think it will be, then that will be enough for me to get the forms from The Collective. Once he sees me, and especially when he sees this house, well I think that it won't take too much to have him accept what is an inevitability. He has to pick a wife at some point. It might as well be me, right? Hmmm, I think I will go take a bath and give myself a massage. These boobs of mine might be up to double D's by now because my bra is really getting tight and stretching quite a bit in the back. Then after my bath, I'll check my email to see if Greg sent me anything.
 
To: millicentaubrey@thecollective.org
From: greggrey@thecollective.org

11:55pm


Milly-

omg just read what you wrote thank you so much for your kkind words. really, thank you for thinking of me, in memory of Jill. ok have to confesshave a drink with me so excuse the typos. i'm a much better dancer wheni drink so maybe thats' why i got to dance with the girl in the marilyn costume: you were hot! i rmember!

i seriously do thnk that Jill would be happy if we did see each other, and maybe we canh elp one another out. we owe it to her to do that, right?

-greg

ps can you send another picture?
 
Oh, that bath felt real nice <Milly stands there and resumes rubbing her double D’s, her hands wandering to her nipples…she purrs aloud and realizes that if she keeps it up she might orgasm> Why don’t I grab a wine before bed and check to see if Greg has sent me a response.

<Reads his email>

Well, well. This deserves a response.

To: greggrey@thecollective.org
From: millicentaubrey@thecollective.org


12:07am


Dear Greg,
I’m glad you remembered that dance with me. Maybe we can do a slower dance in the near future. You know, cheek to cheek? ; )

Help each other out? In what way? Do you have a proposition in mind? I don’t know I’d need to hear your proposition first. And, I can’t make any promises I’ll say yes to whatever it is.

Love and kisses,
Milly,

PS Here is a picture of me on a yacht off the coast of Catalina Island two summers ago.
Denise_Milani_Catalina_by_k1ngxx.jpg
 
Greg knows immediately after hitting <send> that he's being too forward, letting his guard down too much, that he's treading on dangerous ground with this woman that, honestly, he barely knows. It's the alcohol, of course. He's not typically a drinker; he knows how easily one could lose themselves in a spiral of drink and depression in these times. But he had been feeling confused these past few days, and opened a bottle of nice bourbon he'd found in one of the abandoned apartments in his building. He gets tipsy so easy these days.

Oh, man. I'm not sure I should have done that...

But right now, he's not thinking clearly.

I know I shouldn't be drunk emailing...why did I ask her for another picture..? That wasn't smart...how will she take that..? She'll totally be offended...think I'm an idiot...or a perv....I am an idiot

And okay, why am I still sitting here, refreshing this inbox every two minutes? I should just...go to bed...she's probably gone to sleep too. Why would she reply right away, anyway..? Another two...no, five minutes, yeah, and I'll go to b-

...oh crap she responded.

<reads her email, has a near heart-attack at the picture>

<unzips his pants, almost instinctively>


Her email scares him, definitely. And brings him a more than a little buzz of a thrill. So before he knows it, he's writing again:




To: millicentaubrey@thecollective.org
From: greggrey@thecollective.org

12:19 am

I mean just help each other, like talk, about memries we might have. Everyone I know is dead and well - you know. It's depressing these days!

i don'tt know if you know this but Jill and I had our problems.

we could meet and get coffee together mayb soon? there's a shop that recently opened up off the city green.


-g
 
<Milly wakes up the next day, somehow refreshed from her sleep and yet hungry. She had been getting hungrier more and more these days. Such an appetite. Something compels her to get on a scale>

129 pounds! Hmm, could I have gained 8 pounds since I last check. Maybe it is the side effects since the event happened. But my shape is fine, except my chest being larger. Could I have put all that weight in my chest??[/1]

<Milly then decides to check her height, just out of curiosity>

5'6" but that can't be. Can it? Have I really grown two inches over the past year? Is that possible?

<Then she checks her other measurements and sees that she is in fact 35DD-24-35>

So I was 34C-24-34 and now I'm 35DD-24-34. Wow, and strange. I guess this does play into everything I've heard and read about. Oh my, and if I can have Greg as my mate then I can be in the program. Imagine growing even more. Getting bigger and stronger. Somehow, I have this need, this ever present need to be maternal, to have a child that I can hold in my arms. I even had that dream again last night. Only this time Greg was in it. Oh yes, I must have him for myself. The need is like a burning desire within me.

<Milly makes herslf a nice big breakfast with the food sent to her from The Collective. It's a bounty of all things good from fresh eggs to milk, to cheese and plenty of fresh fruits and vegatables - everything a growing young lady needs>
 
I know I shouldn't just be waiting here...waiting for her reply...I should go to bed...

what is it, like, 2am?

....another few tries. And that's it. I'll go to bed...


<he falls asleep at the computer, the latest picture of her up on the screen>
 
To: greggrey@thecollective.org
From: millicentaubrey@thecollective.org

9:58am

Dear Greg,

Just some conversation, well, that sounds nice. I have heard of the restaurant. It’s a new one. I think it’s called Glenda’s. Listen Greg, maybe you’re not aware of this, but some restaurants, including Glenda’s are segregating the men in their restaurants. If we went there, well, I wouldn’t even be able to talk to you. Since all of the laws from before the event were abolished, there is nothing that stops them from doing this.

I have an idea!

Why don’t I make us some lunch and bring a blanket and we’ll have a picnic on the green? Say one o’clock?
Hopefully I will hear back from you before noon. If I don’t, I will go to the green anyway. If you change your mind, lunch will be ready for the both of us and then we can talk.

Oh, and Greg, do be careful. Don’t have me worry about you. Take all necessary precautions. I have heard some women trying to abduct the few men out there.
Love and kisses,

Milly,

PS This is a more recent pick of me ; )
Denise_Milani_14.jpg
 
<With a wince from a budding headache, he wakes at computer desk in the early AM and finds himself checking his inbox again. Still nothing. He flushes in ignominy as he reads over the his "sent" messages. He knows he should not have done this....but still...>

<He rereads her messages.>

What did she mean by "cheek to cheek"? And why does that give me a dark thrill?

I really have to get to bed.


<He leaves the computer, the light of the rising sun through the windows, and crawls into bed>

...time passes...he dreams, strange dreams...

<He wakes again soon at just before noon, head throbbing lightly in hangover, and checks his email as he rubs sleep from his eyes. He reads her new message, and his heart begins to race.>

Oh gosh...oh man...what should I do? I...I should...

...not go.

no, no....that would be...rude? right? She's obviously made a lunch, gone through the trouble. I should go. Can I make it though? It's...yikes...ten-of already. It's a twenty minute walk. I can't make it....probably better anyway...I'll just stay here.

But...it is a public place. Nothing's going to happen. I can leave anytime I want. And...she does sound nice...

...and crap, look at that picture...

...I am such an idiot.


<as fast as he can, he dresses himself into a pair of cargo shorts and a blue t-shirt. With one last thought before he leaves, he replies to her email:>


To: millicentaubrey@thecollective.org
From: greggrey@thecollective.org

11:56 am

sorry on my way!

-g



Hopefully she'll wait...
...what will she be wearing...?
 
29029_436137859795310_1225289438_n.jpg


<After laying down a blanket on The Green and setting down the basket, Milly sets up lunch for two in anticipation of Greg's arrival...she has sandwiches of various types, puts out sone strawberries in a snall basket, and pours some water from a large bottle into two glasses...she lays out the linen napkins and is pleased with everything>

<it's a beautiful day, sunny and warm...a great day for a picnic...from a distance she can see a man in cargo shorts and a blue shirt...he looks obvious, so obvious that she is a little fearful of him being hurt or worse being abducted... She sees him as an investment in her future and he's hers...and Milly will do anything to protect her investment>

< Milly stands to greet him as Greg gets closer and she waves her arms to get his attention>
 
<The walk to the city center, where most commerce has started to rebuild (albeit slowly), is normally a pleasant one. From the apartment building he has most recently called home, on the edge of downtown, Greg usually takes the river walk. The gardens are untended, of course, but the shrubbery is in bloom in these early summer months.>

<He does not, though, take the time to appreciate the scenery. His thoughts are elsewhere as he walks, quickly, down the meandering path. He does see, from time to time, other people. Women mostly, alone or in small groups. He tries to ignore their obvious stares, and thankfully they do not try to speak to him. His throat catches as, when he's nearing downtown, he passes by a couple walking the opposite way. A man and woman, obviously a pair. She is tall, probably six feet at least, and he is
shorter, perhaps just over five feet. He is small, weak, almost sickly looking compared to her. She is well on her way to the ultra-curvy, almost heroic proportions typical of a treatment "Wife". Long, strong thighs, wasp waist. Prodigious bosom. Musculature. She smiles at Greg as he passes; her companion keeps his gaze down, as if in shame>

<Veering off the River Walk into downtown, towards the green, Greg steels himself. He knows, now, that he made the decision to meet Milly in haste. The fresh air has strengthened his resolve, and he promises himself to keep himself in check, not allow himself to say too much, or certainly to agree to another "date" just yet.>

<On the green now, he sees her waving to him. Squinting against the noonday sun, he sees her mostly in profile>

oh god...look at her...

I wave back

...this is not going to be easy.

"Milly?" I call out, hand against my brow to shield the sun but my eyes adjusting as I approach closer, "Hi...I hope you weren't waiting long?"
 
"No Sweety, it wasn't a long wait besides I was just finishing preparing our picnic." With a smile I gesture towards the blanket on the ground and all of the trimmings that one would expect from a good wholesome lunch.

<Milly then places her arms around Greg and gives him a hug....its a strong one, but more of a young lady who doesn't know her own strength...she can feel her now enlarged boobs being squished as she feels Greg's embrace in return>

<She then kneels on the blanket, her shapely calf muscles flex as she does...she somehow is already showing signs of being a goddess, not only by her hourglass shape, but by her posture, very straight and thus accentuating her double 'D's>

<In a doting motherly tone Milly offers Greg lunch>

"Come have a seat, Greg. What can I get you? A turkey sandwich? Maybe a ham sandwich? Or how about a tuna salad? You've got to keep up your strength now."
 
"Thanks..." I say, as I sit down on the blanket, impressed with the picnic spread she has prepared. No one has done something like this for so long for me. No one has done anything for me for so long. Even Jill...she wasn't the type to do this. "You didn't have to...This looks great."

I take a turkey sandwich from the small plate of sandwiches she's arranged, avoiding at first looking at her. I know, from my experiences with women over the past year or so...that it's easier to talk if you don't look. I was still trying to recover from her bosomy hug; with her now just several inches shorter than me, her big breasts had pressed up against my chest. I could still feel them. And I knew, from my quick glances, that her dress displayed an impressive cleavage...my weakness...

"So," I begin, aware of the tanned swells of her calf and thigh as she knelt on the blanket in her short, clingy dress, "I hope you didn't go through too much trouble for this...I'm sorta used to eating pretty simple these days."

My breath is still a bit labored, from my brisk walk. I notice the water she'd poured and I'm bold enough to ask "Any chance I could bother you for a drink?"
 
"Don't be silly, it was really nothing. Actually Greg, your doing me the favor. It's nice to make a meal from someone else."

Look at how he looks away from me, how he can't even look at me at all. So precious. I can see he's almost unnerved by my innate beauty and by my impossibly perfect body.

<Milly continues to keep an upbeat smile and personality as she talks to Greg, even if it is a delicate matter, like his present situation and his unfortunate diet>

<He mentions his lean diet and then asks for water...she responds very motherly, very caring>

"Of course, of course. Here let me pour you a glass."

<She pours him a nice tall glass of water, and does the same for herself>

In her motherly tone....
"I have heard about you boys out there. It's quite a shame how The Collective is treating you. What with taking away your right to employment and forcing you to be homeless if you don't find a mate. Well it's just unconscionable."

<Milly picks up a tuna fish salad sandwich and eats with such a voracity...she still has her manners, but it is evident that she has quite the appetite...almost as if she is eating for two...in no time at all she grabs a second sandwich, this time ham and cheese and gets started on that>

"So Greg, be honest with me, with an old friend of your wife, how are you making out?"
 
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