"The C-Bar" It was Cari and Gail's very first visit to a cum bar and both girls were excited. "Gee, do you really think we'll get in?" asked Cari a bit nervously. After all, she and her friend had only just turned fifteen a few days ago and twenty-one was the absolute youngest legal age for admittance to a registered cum bar according to the latest writ of the Council of Virgins' Law-creed. Briefly the girls had discussed trying to slip into a non-registered bar, but popular rumor was you could never tell what you might be served in one of those places. "Sure," said Gail, tossing her healthy sheaf of long blonde curls, her blue eyes flashing. "Aunt Jennifer said these fake I.D.'s should work fine, just as long as we used a bit more makeup than usual. And you padded that bra of yours a little," she added with a taunting giggle. Gail herself of course had not needed any extra padding upstairs. The dark-haired beauty looked every inch a woman of twenty-one or even older. It was Cari who looked no more than her fifteen years. The long-awaited blooming of her small breasts had only begun over the past six months or so, and even now amounted to no more than peach-sized swellings, their summits capped with ripe pink cherry nipples that ached deliciously when Cari "exercised" them in bed each night before sleep, an exercise that unfailingly led to a brisk session of exercise farther down in another portion of her trim young body before sleep as well. "Here we go," hissed Gail as the two approached the double-doored entrance to the establishment named "Sonya's Cream Palace" on the glittering sign set high above. "C. of V. c-club license # 23608" was imprinted on the mounted certificate lower down and to the right. First Gail and then Cari flashed their I.D.'s and sweated out the long seconds as the greeter girl examined them closely. There was an unbreathing pause as the g-girl glanced up from the celluloid covered cards and into the desperately calmed faces of the two young women who had presented them. Cari felt her heart stop as the g-girl shifted her eyes from Gail's to her own. The g-girl pursed her white- lipsticked lips (the color all greeters at c-clubs wore) and seemed to consider a moment. Somehow Cari knew she and Gail were dead, found out. Her mothers would kill them both, simply kill them. They'd be grounded for life, lucky to get out of their domes even when they did turn twenty- one. Her mom might even take away her vibratron! This idea was particularly scary to the young girl. Despite all the talk in the media about teenage girls becoming hooked on the electronic devices, her mom had let Cari keep hers so far, although she had extracted her daughter's promise to keep her use of the thrilling banana-shaped toy at an absolute minimum, something Cari had found it far from easy to do. She'd learned lately to cover her head with her quilt and even two pillows when she slipped in a extra late-night session. It was the only way to keep her sharp little screams of pleasure from being heard throughout the dome and cluing her mother to her above normal use of the thing. But, god, what if her mom took her toy away entirely? Her passionate young body might burst without its accustomed method of release! Cari felt like crying, she was so afraid, as the seconds of the g-girl's silent scrutiny drew on and on. Finally, the woman looked about her, as if checking to see if anyone was close enough to the three to overhear what she was considering saying. Then she leaned down close to the girls and whispered between barely parted cream-colored lips. "Go on in," she said. "THIS time," she added. "But don't you girls ever come back here again. Not until you're REALLY twenty-one." Cari stood open-mouthed in shock. Gail grabbed her arm and pulled her quickly through the now open doorway and into the darkened c-bar. If it hadn't been for Gail, Cari remembered afterwards, she herself would never have gotten through the events of the next few minutes. Even with all the examples occurring all around her in the warm, dark, womblike bar to show her how things worked here, she would never have gotten up enough nerve to finally take things "in hand" without her friend there to prod her. Through the synth-smoke filled interior Cari could make out only dim indistinct shapes apart from the strobe- lit action on the huge dance floor. Fashionably dressed young women twirled there on the meters-wide polished steel circle in couples and triples, moving in complete and frantic abandon, as if under the stimulating effects of one of the Old World drugs of the early 1990's. Cari noticed several groups of females nuzzling each other intimately in mid dance. Gail must have noticed this blatant lesbian activity as well because she nudged an elbow softly into Cari's side, pointed to these dancers and grinned. Cari and her friend had been experimenting with some girl-on-girl play of their own of late at Gail's instigation. Nothing serious, Cari insisted to herself, just a little necking and almost innocent groping, though their last session, in Gail's bedroom when her parents had been out for the evening, had led to one actual orgasm for each of the girls at the hands of the other. Gail had screamed out at hers, and Cari had herself been unable to hold back a peeling cry of ecstasy as her friend had finger flicked her little clitty over the edge. That had been Cari's very first climax at the hands of another. She still preferred the thrills she received from her vibratron, though. She liked it better when she and Gail lay in one or the other's bed together and vibe'd off side by side. Cari supposed she was simply more into sex with males than with her own sister females, and she couldn't wait until she was finally of pairing age. At fifteen, Cari's age of consent and pairing was a long way off, and no matter how badly her developing young body might ache for mating, she'd just have to wait. But here, tonight, thanks to her Aunt Jennifer who well understood a young girl's yearning curiosity and awakening sexual hunger, Cari was approaching a crossroads of a similar kind. She was actually in a registered c-bar! And soon, very soon, she'd be taking a closer, though premature as far as the government was concerned, step toward her womanhood. Gail's voice startled her from her reveries. "Look, there's the bar, it's in there!" She pointed to a smokey blue blur at the far end of the big room and tugged Cari along with her off in that direction. As the two girls approached the details of the bar area became more distinct, until Cari felt a deep, sudden blush. Oh, my god, she thought to herself. It's really true! The bar itself was a gleaming length of golden yellow allow, nearly forty feet long, fronted by dozens of fixed position bar stools in a deep metallic blue. Light seemed to filter out from within the substance of bar and stools alike, though some additional illumination came from glowing fixtures set at intervals upon the long counter's surface. These fixtures were fashioned in the unmistakable likeness of an item of human anatomy Cari had never seen before other than in the text-disk illustrations she'd studied in the medical library at school. But what really made the cute little fifteen-year-old blush was what was molded to appear frothing up out of the rounded tip of each lamp. Milky white, rich looking, pearly eruptions, frozen in time in the artwork of the lamps, which pulsed there in the throbbing light of the bar. And beyond the bar, attended by the dozen or so near naked young female c-bartenders? Just as her Aunt Jennifer had said. Men. Naked men, naked and hairless. Bred hairless, Jennifer had told she and Gail. Men that had been bred and trained from birth by the government exclusively for their duties in the government run c-bars. Males bred for one purpose and one purpose alone. To provide their rich, thick male cream on demand for the nourishment and entertainment of females. Adult females, Cari thought suddenly, darting her eyes about her, looking fearfully to make certain she and her likewise underage friend had not been noticed as such. But everything appeared normal, or at least what passed for normal in a c-bar. At nearly all of the bar's blue metallic stools sat thirsty young woman. And before each of these women knelt handsome, naked men, erect and hairless penises jutting eagerly forward at the level of each young mouth. Aunt Jennifer had said that each male knelt upon a specially fitted platform imbedded in the counter's surface so that the offered sex could be adjusted by the nearest bartender to the level of each customer's mouth. What else had Jennifer said? She had told about the breeding program that selected the most prime males from the government's breeding pool, not for fertility in this case, but for taste, flavor, richness, consistency and output. Especially for output, she'd said. The finest c- bar males could spurt up to an ounce of their sweet semen, cream sweetened even beyond specially bred nature by special diets heavy on things like cinnamon and nutmeg and clove. Cari watched as a newly arrived young woman seated herself upon one of the few vacant barstools, fished her government debit card from the small male-skin pouch that hung about her neck and slipped the card into the slot in the bar before her. Buttons glowed there in response and the woman pushed several of them. She's placing her order, Cari realized, remembering her Aunt Jennifer's instructions. "Now, you girls don't run up my debit balance, you here? Just two drinks for each of you, okay?" "Yes, Aunt Jennifer," the two fifteen- year-olds had assured her. Just two drinks each. Two warm gushing drinks of sweet male honey, then they'll leave and come running back home early in case one of their mothers' happened to call to check up on them. The woman pushed a final button in the bar and a bartender appeared to deftly hand the woman an immaculate looking white silk napkin. The woman tucked the napkin into her lap and watched, along with a hugely wide-eyed Cari, as a male of the type the woman had selected rose up on a hydraulic lift from an opening in the bar and hushed to a stop with an as hugely erect, angry red penis jutting eagerly forward at the level of the woman's face. The bartender who had proffered the woman the silk napkin now used unseen buttons on her side of the bar to adjust the level of male penis against female mouth. The young female customer nodded when the position was satisfactory, and then, with switches of her own, caused the male figure to glide forward toward her until her open mouth had engulfed the rose-colored mushroom tip of the penis she would soon be drinking from. The male figure was naked, and he knelt proudly upright with hands bound together behind his back. Jennifer said that this was for the safety and convenience of the customers as orgasming males were sometime apt to lose control. As it was, each male would have been highly trained to restrain all but the tiniest involuntary movements, allowing their temporary female mistresses to have absolute control over when they would reach their ultimate release. The eyes of the fellated male were aimed forward, as were those of all the other males being suckled, and each looked upward at a slight angle as well; they were not permitted to look down into the faces of the young women who sucked and drank their essence. They were trained to remain as aloof and detached as possible from their pleasure, though at that instant, even above the loud, raucous throbbing of the music, Cari clearly made out the guttural, deep, animal grunt that she instinctively knew to be the barely suppressed cry of a male erupting forth his cream. Cari stood there frozen. She couldn't quite believe it, even while seeing it with her very own eyes. It was like a dream! She found herself licking her lips as she watched the woman draw the long, thick male penis deeply into her throat, something Aunt Jennifer had cautioned the girls not to try on this first visit. Once again it was her friend Gail who startled Cari from her wondering trance. "Come on!" said the girl. "Aunt Jennifer said what we want is all the way down to there on the left! Let's go!" Cari hardly felt the girl take her arm, as she was drawn along. What they wanted? Oh, yeah, now she remembered. The boys. The boys! Jennifer said that since the girls were limited to only two drinks a piece, they could go for what she called "the good stuff." Boys. Boys of Cari and Gail's own young age. Perhaps even a bit younger, Jennifer had said, "if it's a good night!" Time for young Cari seemed to flash past from this point on. One instant she and Gail were seated upon adjoining stools, Gail doing the business of inserting Jennifer's debit card and entering the access code she had given them. And then Cari was seeing the most incredible, wonderful, unimaginable sight she'd ever seen, a vision she'd remember the rest of her life. A gorgeously tanned, deliciously muscled, and beautifully naked male was floating up from the bar before. "Thirteen," the bar's readout display said. "Blonde hair, blue eyes." God, he was beautiful! Cari couldn't take her eyes away from him even for long enough to check out her friend Gail's selection as it rose into position a moment later. Eyes as blue as tropic ocean waters, hair as gold as sunlight, skin naked and honey-brown. Then Cari's eyes dropped to the real prize. Seven inches long, slender in it's youth, the rod of erect male flesh stood out strong and stiff before her, throbbing delicately to the sweet beating of the boy's trembling heart. Cari's mouth absolutely watered! She was actually about to her first taste of male sex flesh for the first time in her young life. And not long after that, she'd be tasting sweet male cum-cream for the first time as well. Cari thrilled from the tip of her quivering fifteen- year-old clitoris to the tip of her trembling young tongue as she opened her mouth and dipped her face forward toward the throbbing male boy-cock before her. Yet another cry from her friend Gail beside her startled young Cari, but it was her own cry as she felt herself grabbed from behind as well that finally distracted her from the erect penis she had been just about to taste. She frantically looked around her. Police! Council Police! The girls had been discovered! With some difficulty, the two fifteen-year-olds were wrestled off through the laughing, applauding, heckling bar crowd. They struggled as fiercely as if they had known what punishment awaited them. Which, of course, they did not. The girls' parents had thought their daughters much too young and innocent to even consider breaking one of the Council's morals regulations. So they're parents had not told them about the severe punishments such violations imposed. So, some time later that same night, the two young girls went unsuspecting along with their attendant guards down into the depths of the lower level of their city's Bureau of Enforcement building. But the girls fought fiercely once more when those guards began stripping them both naked, tearing clothing and panties away quickly, until they were but two wriggling things of flesh. They were then strapped down screaming, side by side, to adjoining vinyl padded tables. Then the electric wire clips were attached to pink young nipples, quivering pear-shaped girl-breasts shaking beneath. The butterfly lips of the girls' young womanhood were drawn aside, and clips nipped home to each of those as well. There were renewed screams as twin, banana-shaped metal probes were perfunctorily slid into place deeply up into the tender narrow passageway of the girls' tight young anuses, and pure howls of tortured agony as two final electric cables were clipped firmly down onto the tiny buds of their delicate young clitorises. And, of course, these cries were all as nothing when compared to the shrill, inhuman wailing, the high, choking caterwauling, the primitive unendurable animal shrieks the two young girls would emit once the variable electrical circuit had been closed, as it would remain throughout the next seventeen hours of the girls' "correction." But with all that, Cari and Gail would have been thankful, even grateful for these fine torments had they known what punishment their Aunt Jennifer had been condemned to as the instigator of their little crime. Even now, their favorite aunt, at twenty-five years of age was having the bud of her own clitoris slowly cauterized away in a long, protracted operation. An operation performed, as the law decreed, without benefit of anesthesia. - END -