Populate the Moon (Naughty Reads)

Misty Arva has been sent to the moon for one purpose. She is to help populate it along with three other women. Founded as a mining colony, the United Republic of States is no longer willing to spend the money it takes to transport new workers to the moon. Instead, they’ve devised a new plan. Send women to the moon to entertain and relax the men. As a result, they should become pregnant and help populate the moon and provide new workers.

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1. Chapter 1 - Landing on the Moon 

Misty Arva stepped off the space shuttle. It was a four hour shuttle flight to the moon, but the trip had been almost a year in the making. She had to pass all of the space agencies’ tests before she could be assigned to her new job.

They were doing an all call for women who wanted to help populate the moon. That meant they had to be in good health and fertile. Unfortunately, the fertility test was brutal. They had to be inseminated then give birth without medication.

Misty had survived the final test three weeks ago. She had given birth to a healthy male. It was grueling and painful, but she’d done better than most and was unphased by the experience. She was also motivated by the money. It was one-hundred thousand dollars a year plus a fifty-thousand dollar bonus for every male, and a seventy-five thousand dollar bonus for every female birthed.

The problem was more of a moral and a societal one. She was allowing herself to be turned into a breeding machine for the corporation that controlled the moon mining operation, and the rumor was that the births didn’t take ten months.

At least they had finally changed that misnomer. For centuries, they tried to tell women that gestation only took nine months. Well, anyone who’d ever had a basic math class could divide forty by four and come up with the end result of ten. Ten months, not nine. The new calculations had also stopped a lot of the C-sections that were popular in the twenty-second century, which meant natural births were a lot cheaper since doctors were no longer slicing women open after they were two days late, which after the new calculations, meant that the babies were taken out three to four weeks early and six weeks in some cases, since the start math had been wrong too. They’d been going by the woman’s last period instead of the date she had had sex that was closest to the positive pregnancy test. It was horrific.

Misty shuddered. She was incredibly grateful not to be a woman in the twenty-first and twenty-second centuries. No wonder the birth rates had fallen so far! Who’d want to endure that?

Of course, the mining operation was boasting a totally different gestational time-frame. They were stating that the births could happen is as little as a week, if you took the right combination of fetal growth drugs. Then, you could be healed in as little as twenty-four hours with a new combination of drugs.

It was still controversial, and some women were protesting it. Saying that it was degrading. Women were more than birthing machines. It was a centuries old argument, but even the falling birthrates on Earth had the governments contemplating the same measures. Turning motherhood into a job for the greater good of the species. Of course, it was faster for a company to turn it into a job than for the government to authorize payments to women for each live birth.

Misty had signed up for a year. She figured if she had two babies a month, she’d walk away with as much as one point nine million dollars. After this, she never had to work again, and she’d live a life of complete luxury. She had kept that thought in her mind as she’d squeezed out that goddamned male.

Now, she was descending the ramp and walking into space-dock one at the Light Side Mining Station One.

“Misty Arva?” A man said.

“That’s me,” Misty said as she walked over to the male.

“I’m John.” He shook her hand. “I’m here to show you where you live and explain a little bit about how things work here.”

“Fantastic,” Misty said.

“I understand your one of the populating women,” John said.

“Here to naturally give you a new workforce,” Misty said.

“Great to hear. We have three others,” John said as they walked down a corridor then took an elevator down three floors. “This is the comfort woman wing. That’s what we’re telling the men it is anyway.”

“Oh jeez, so they don’t know,” Misty said.

“They do not. Please, do not tell them,” John said. “They think you’re prostitutes, and you can charge accordingly.”

“No shit,” Misty said.

“No shit,” John said as he led her to the last room in the hall. “This is your apartment.” He unlocked the door and allowed her inside first.

“Holy shit.” Misty walked in to view an apartment larger than she had on Earth.

John walked inside and closed the door. “Yours is the biggest.”

“Is there a reason for that?” Misty asked.

“Your psyche report was preferred, and your first live birth was a male,” John said.

“But males aren’t worth as much,” Misty said.

“They’re not, but we still need them. They’re compensating by giving you the best apartment for comfort women we have.” John led her through the apartment. “This is your kitchen. This is the bedroom we assume you’ll work in. This is your personal bedroom, and this is the delivery room.”

“Delivery room?” Misty walked inside to see a chair and a robot.

“No hospitals here. We have a lab and clinic, so they designed you a birthing room. The robot will take care of your medical needs.”

“What’s the tube?” Misty asked as she looked at the chair. It had stirrups and arms. A high back, and a sealed tube in the floor.

“When you’re ready, you’ll press a button in the chair. The tube will uncover and come up. It will suck the baby down to the clinic right after birth.”

“Holy fuck,” Misty said.

“The robot will crank you full of healing drugs and a sedative. It will wash you. Put you in bed. You’ll wake up the next morning fine,” John said.

“That’s a little different than they described,” Misty said.

“We’ve made advancements recently,” John said.

“How long is the gestation?”

“Anywhere from a few days to a week and a half. You’ll come in here daily for your injections. If you aren’t pregnant, it’s hormones and vitamins for fertility. If you are, then its growth hormones for the baby,” John said.

“Where do the babies go?” Misty asked.

“They go to the clinic for cleanup and examination. After that, I have no idea,” John said.

“So, I never have to care for them,” Misty said.

“Not at all,” John said. “Your only job is to have them.”

“Perfect,” Misty said. “How do I get the men?”

“They’ll come to you,” John said. He walked her over to a control panel. “What hours do you want to work?”

“Ten in the morning until eleven at night,” Misty said.

John input her schedule into the machine. “Do you want any days off?”

“I don’t know,” Misty said.

“Well, if you do, hit this button. It makes you unavailable for twenty-four hours. Also, when you sit in the birthing chair, your automatically taken off the schedule for twenty-four hours.”

“What happens if you have twins?” Misty asked.

“Same rate for each baby,” John said. “And still an automatic twenty-four hours off.”

“Excellent.” She set her bag down in her bedroom then walked into the living room.

“All the food is done by replication. It’s programmed with everything from beer and wine to french fries,” John said.

“Is there a way to specify the type of man you want?” Misty asked.

“No, but what are you looking for?” John asked.

“Tall men with huge cocks,” Misty said.

“There’s not, but I can spread the word. We have a few men who have things in their pants the other women don’t want,” John said.

“That’s fine. When do I start working?” Misty asked.

“As soon as I leave. The scanners mark you as busy whenever there are two or more in your apartment,” John said.

“Did you want a ride?” Misty asked.

“Not right this second, but I may be back later,” John said. “Relax. Get settled. I doubt you’ll have much time to yourself.”

“Thanks,” Misty said then paused as the room shook. “What the hell was that?”

“Mining. It’s directly under us,” John said.

“You’re kidding,” Misty said.

“Nope. Mining starts at level 10,” John said. “Don’t go down there.”

“Who the hell thought that would be a good idea?” Misty asked. “I thought the mining was separate from the living units.”

“It was supposed to be, but cost overruns forced them to do it this way,” John said.

“Wow,” Misty said. “And this has been in operation for twenty years?”

“It has,” John said. “They’re building another one on the dark side of the moon. It’s about done, and the living units are separate from the mining operation. They built an underground train over there to take the men back and forth.” He paused. “Anyway, get settled. I’ll be back later.”

Misty nodded. She decided to take a shower after John left. She dressed in a black nighty with no panties or bra. She grabbed a glass of wine from the replicator and waited. She wasn’t hungry. The shuttle had fed them an ample lunch and tea right before they docked. So, all she had to do was wait for the men to appear. It seemed simple enough.

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