The Additive

Then one day, about two months after school started, I picked up on the big change. It had been going on for at least a week before I noticed. How quiet it got in the locker room before gym. Girls talk all the time, but everybody was kinda shutting up and looking down at the ground. And I finally realized they were all acting just like me!

So I stood up and yelled, real loud, "I'm a total lesbo now! Who's with me?"

It was hilarious. Everyone looked so surprised, but nobody said anything and they kept looking at each other. So I walked up to Triana - third biggest rack I ever saw, no shit - and just started sucking on those titties. She kinda groaned and then grabbed me like an octopus or something. By the time I came up for air there was, like, an orgy going on.

The next few weeks were like a honest-to-God fantasy. All these horny girls, any way you looked. Practically every girl in school was a nympho dyke. I mean, we all were hornier than even guys are supposed to get, and we couldn't get each other pregnant! Any time you went to the bathroom you'd hear two or three chicks trying to get in a quick fuck all quiet-like. Maybe in the stall right next to you. And maybe they'd let you join in.

There were so many 'group study sessions' with just girls. Up in their bedrooms. I know I sure studied - a lot. I think the whole school smelled a little like wet pussy by the end there.

The boys got pretty pissy about it. Like I said, I almost feel bad for 'em, not getting any. But fuck, none of us wanted dick either, not anymore. Well, the few girls left who were still into guys could have their pick, so there's that. But there were a lot of fights and they said some real mean things.

I'll bet it was the guys who ruined it. Reported it, got an investigation going. Bet you anything. When they caught Principal Merton screwing Ophelia in her office, there was a whole big deal and parents started pulling their kids from school.

Kinda too bad. Homecoming woulda been epic.

By then the whole Quarantine dealie was starting, and I told my parents not to fight it, that I'd be okay. My mom cried so hard. But fuck, going and living with a bunch of other lesbos sounded just fine to me. I didn't know how hard it would be, early on.

---

Fuckin' dykes. Everything's gone to shit now.

I mean, half the goddamn women are off chasing snatch. Used to be a guy could get some, at least sometimes. Didn't even take much hustle. Now even the ones who say they're still straight, they won't even look at a guy like me. Yeah, I ain't got the best job or a big house or a fancy car, but I'm a man's man, y'know?

What? No, I don't got the money to do that catalog shit! And besides, I ain't so hard up that I'll just marry some imported cooze. Meet her the day she gets off the boat? Fuck that. I guess I can't blame the guys who do. I mean, girls from South America, Africa - they didn't get dosed much. Lots more girls there still know what to do with a man. And even a regular guy here makes pretty good money compared to some little shit village.

Russia, China, they got the right idea. Show those cunts their fucking place. If I'd been in Boston, I'd have done the same goddamn thing.

---

Yeah, we were one of the very first. From the start of the Quarantine. The Texas Relocation Center, it was called back then. We're back to Freeport now. Best damn Community anywhere, you ask me.

My wife Judith says it was like the stories her grandmother used to tell about the ghettoes. They threw up a buncha cheap apartment buildings and stuffed women in 'em. Not much food, everybody packed together. But it's way better now.

We got a real Community here. Freeport is our town. Most of the straights moved away, all scared their little desert flowers might get a taste of pussy. We're pretty much independent now. Most of our power comes from from solar, and we even make our own water. Desalination plant's up that road a bit, by the coast.

Everyone has to pitch in. You get a job based on your skills and stuff. But it's cool. Nobody looks down on anybody. I hauled trash for six months, I still got respect.

There's some money, for luxuries and stuff, but mostly it's barter, and the basics come with the work you get assigned. Food and shelter guaranteed. Kinda hippy commune style, y'know? I mean, you don't have to worry about health insurance or any of that crap here. We take care of our own. Got a whole heap of doctors and nurses; they used to drink a lot of coffee, know what I'm sayin'?

And shit, food is no problem anymore, since the recall. We don't care if it's got lezzie dust in it. Can't hurt us. So they dump it on us. Food is free. The processed stuff, leastways. You want organic, you gotta pay or help out in the gardens. Kids get organic for free, though, o'course.

Oh, sure, lotsa kids. Boys and girls, it's all good. And they're probably safer here than most places. Me and Judith are thinking about it. Not sure which one of us would carry it. I ain't so sure I wanna get pregnant myself, but... well, anyway, that's between us.

Well, no, men ain't, like, banned or anything. Relatives come visit all the time. But any guy old enough to shave ain't exactly popular, know what I'm sayin'? Especially after dark.

Yeah, the checkpoint's kind of a pain, but security, y'know. No swinging dick is gonna give us any shit.

Oh, hey, relax. I can't remember the last time we had a psycho try to sneak in. And don't worry your pretty head about riots. We got dykes from everywhere. Police, Army, all kinds. Nobody's gonna fuck with us, I promise you that. No Bostons here, know what I'm sayin'?

Oh shit yes, there's plenty of swinging. Friday night, downtown - that's a sight to see! No kids allowed after sunset. We had to shoot down a drone once or twice, asshole guys tryin' to get a peek.

But there's lotsa couples, too. Some are even exclusive. Judith and me, once in a blue moon we invite a third, but mostly we're homebodies.

Anyway, pretty little thing like you, you'll love it here. With big eyes like yours, and an ass like that? Shee-it! Look me up when you get settled, I'll show you around, let you meet Judith. She does the inviting, you know, but I get to make suggestions. Know what I'm sayin'?

---

No, I always ate organic food. A lot of my friends used to make fun of me, or even get pissed when I refused all that factory crap they'd shove in their mouths. That doesn't happen anymore. They come to me for help starting their own gardens. One good thing from this whole mess, everybody's eating a whole lot healthier now. Costs more, but it's worth it.

I'm glad I didn't get any of that poison, but there are times I almost wish I had. Or that I'd been born gay. Nah, I'm straight. No pussy for me, thanks. But sometimes I think it'd be easier.

It's just... things have changed so much. You just can't go out alone at night. You just can't. Sure, I'm in favor of Proposition 20. Rape should always have had the death penalty. But I don't think things'll get better, even if it passes. To some assholes, it's worth it.

And clothes... fashion's so, like, polarized now. If you don't want people thinking you're a dyke, you gotta dress like June Cleaver or something. So you got a choice. Get hit on all day by men, or get hit on all day by women. Skirt below the knee, breasts all covered, just a little makeup... and guys fall all over themselves to open doors and stand up when you come into the room and... Christ, it's like the nineteen fucking forties, or even earlier.

Show some leg, go a little heavy on the eyeliner, or even just wear a t-shirt, and then the guys, like, snarl at you. And you get hit on by chemos all day long. At least with a long skirt they know to leave you alone.

Dating's hard. I mean, it's not hard to get one! But it's all so rushed. By the third or fourth date, they're down on one knee shoving a ring in your face. I'd like to get to know somebody a little more, y'know?

---

Tonight on CSPAN, we have sociologist Dr. Bernard Lehner, discussing his new book "Breakdown", on the Boston riots and similar incidents worldwide.

Thank you, ladies and gentlemen. I will get directly to the heart of my thesis. A surplus of males who are unable to find mates has been a destabilizing force throughout history. Most commonly this has been the effect of polygamy. In the wake of the Anactorium debacle, however, the effective gender imbalance is far higher than at any known point in human history. I regret to say that it is remarkable we have only had one episode like Boston in this country.

The security measures other Communities have taken are essential, but a true solution to the problem will necessarily involve social policy. Marriageable females will be in short supply for a generation to come.

China already had a gender imbalance from their population policies; at this point they are close to a revolution. The regime is fighting for its survival, and unfortunately we can expect more crackdowns and forced marriages. Russia, the Middle East - we cannot afford to react to this social stress in such a manner. Simple humanity demands it, even if we did not have other options.

The Communities welcome refugees, and pledge to support them. Putting legal roadblocks in the way of women who have escaped oppression is not simply counterproductive, but vindictive and inhumane.

Futhermore, criminalizing the market for what used to be called 'mail-order brides' is as wrong-headed as Prohibition. In the face of Anactorium's legacy, it cannot be eliminated. To try is sheer folly. But it can be brought into the open - regulated, and licensed. This will help to curb abuses and ensure that such marriages, and the children that result, will have the best possible chance to succeed.

---

A hundred percent natural. That's me. Heh. I was queer before it was cool. We both were.

Neither of us should ever have gotten bit, we both ate healthy. It's pretty easy to be organic in Seattle. And we both hated Starbucks coffee. Yeah, hating Starbucks in Seattle. I know. People called us traitors.

Hanh's team had this big presentation for the board where she worked. Only, her cramps kept her up half the night, so she got going late in the morning and couldn't stop at her usual place. And her boss brought in Starbucks for everybody, and she really needed the caffeine... so. You know.

She was only out to a couple of her friends, and her brother. Not at work, or the rest of her family. It bothered me a little, but I understood. I mean, her name pretty much means 'Well Behaved Girl' in Vietnamese. There was never gonna be a good time to tell her folks.

So a couple weeks later... look, don't believe that 'Lesbian Bed Death' bullshit. Yeah, after a while, you don't have as much sex as when you first hook up. That's everybody. But we'd been living together for a year and a half, and we were still into each other. We didn't have sex every night, but we rocked the bed our fair share.

I mean, when she started a marathon, it was no big deal. Not really. I was right there with her. The only thing that was... unusual was that she did it again the next night. And the day after, she was on me as soon as I got home from work.

I didn't mind. Nice to be wanted like that, y'know? By night number four, though, I told her I felt a little tired.

She didn't push me, she just got out her vibrator and played with herself for an hour or so. I think she was hoping to get me interested. Which was cute at the time, but I really was tired.

We settled on sex every other night, and on the off days she'd diddle herself a lot. She even started looking at porn all the time. Was never a big thing for her before.

I started catching her, like, drooling over every pretty girl on the street. Although, a lot more women were giving us the eye too. The news was just starting to talk about how many women were coming out. Remember the big-ass deal about Beyoncé?

But then Hanh asked me about bringing somebody else in sometimes. I never expected that. It wasn't just that she knew I wasn't into that. I never thought she would ever want it. She'd always been a little jealous, a little worried. 'Cause I was mostly out and she wasn't. She figured I had more, y'know, opportunity.

I said no, and she didn't bring it up again. But a few days later, I found some lipstick on the floor in our bedroom. It wasn't hers, and it sure as fuck wasn't mine.

I didn't say anything, I just waited for Monday. I left work early and came home and she was on the floor in the front room with a girl from her work. On her same team. It's almost funny, now. She thought she'd converted a breeder. Ha. Just another Starbucks Sister, like all the rest.

Three weeks from first symptoms to breakup. That's all it took. I just couldn't understand it back then. She wasn't my Hanh anymore.

That's why us naturals kinda stick together, these days. It's easy to get a one night stand with a chemo, but monogamy just ain't gonna happen. I'm not the only one who got burned. Nowhere near.

Straights have a hard time telling the difference, though. I'd'a been stuffed in a Community if I hadn't been able to show I'd been out for years. It was touchy for a while there. If they hadn't figured out it was in the food... I think they were right on the edge of just rounding up anybody who wasn't totally cis/het.

It's better now, some ways. I read somewhere that, counting guys, queers are like a third of the population these days. The politicians can't just ignore a voting bloc like that. We got real clout.

Hanh's out now, of course. I mean, now she's got an excuse. Her family thinks she just had bad luck is all. Not like there ain't plenty of other families with Starbucks Sisters. No real shame on the family honor.

They don't know about me, and they never will. I dunno if she even thinks about me anymore.

---

You're gonna make a ton of money. Late bloomer, huh? We'll call you the 'last of the chemo-sluts'. Already got a tit job, you're gonna be gold.

Sorry, no, the mixed stuff doesn't really sell these days. You can do guys, or girls, but not all together.

Yeah, porn's all split in half. Back in the day, the lesbo stuff was mostly for guys. Chicks didn't use to be a big market, y'know? Not like today. Dykes don't wanna see cocks.

And guys these days gotta see her taking dick. They get enough chicks doing each other in real life. These days they don't even wanna see a naked chick just by herself. No way. They gotta know they have a shot.

Thing is, you're all turned on but you're still bi. So you can do both kinds. You wanna do mixed doubles or whatever, you can, but it'll be after hours. Look, I know a couple other girls like you. Candy, she throws these parties, I'll hook you up.

---

It was a nightmare. I wanted to scream. I love my husband. I love him so much. He's a good man, and a terrific father. I always used to say he was my best friend... and then it became so true it was painful.

I was never a prude. I used to love making love with him. God, our honeymoon, I held him prisoner for two full days in our hotel room! He bought three hundred dollar tickets to a show, and I made us blow it off... so I could blow him!

And then... because of some stupid chemical I couldn't bear to touch him. Not like that. I would think about that night on our honeymoon - one of my most precious memories - and gag a little. He was hurting so much and I... I couldn't help him that way. I just couldn't.

And it happened to me in December! One month. If they'd started the recall one month sooner, I wouldn't have gotten the final dose that put me over the edge.

And I'm way over the edge now. I'm hornier than ever; sometimes it's like sex and women are all I can think about. Like a teenage boy. My older son has a poster of Eva Mendes - her I'd touch! God, I'd eat her up. And out. For days.

It got so bad. I fucked three of my neighbors. I just... couldn't help it. The urge was too strong. For me and them. I felt so ashamed. But women, they were... irresistable.

We never talked about it. I think he knew about at least one of the neighbors. We stopped having sex. Stopped talking to each other at all, except about the kids. I just saw the pain in his eyes and... and I wanted to run and hide. I wanted to die.

Then one day he called me at work. He said the kids would be spending the night at his brother's, and we needed to talk. I almost drove my car into a bridge on the way home. I never wanted to leave him, but I couldn't stay with him.

I parked in the driveway, and came this close to just backing out again and driving away. I had the car in reverse. How could I keep hurting him?

But I owed him the truth, to his face. I went in, set my purse on the little table by the door, and he called out, "In here, hon," from the den.

I came around the corner and just froze.

He'd shaved off his mustache. And he'd shaved his legs, his whole body. He had on a wig and a skirt and a blouse. He'd pierced his ears. He was wearing perfume. Too much, I could smell it from across the room.

I just stared. "I don't blame you," he said. "I know you didn't choose... what happened." He looked in my eyes. "But I only ever wanted to make you happy. I love you. And I won't lose you without a fight."

I broke down then, just sat on the floor right there and bawled. And he got up and walked over to me in those giant heels and he sat down and took me in his arms, so gently...

We made love. And like that, I could handle it. I can pretend it's a dildo, I don't care. Under a skirt, I can touch it. To me it's just a big clitty. And he's gotten so much better since then. His walk, his body language, everything. I swear, with breast forms and the right dress, he's scrumptious. It even takes some women a while to figure it out. And his tongue, I think he could do push-ups with it nowadays.

Not all the time, of course. Not even most of the time. He's still my best friend. He goes to work in men's trousers and a stiff shirt. We go to a wedding or a funeral, he wears a suit. For our kids, he's dad. Madeline only comes out to play at night, or on weekend getaways. Yes, he's Madeline en femme. It's not the life we planned, but we make it work. Sometimes I think we understand each other better now than we ever did.

I get hit on sometimes, the world being what it is now. I tell them if they want me, it's a package deal. Madeline gets to be there too, and gets to eat pussy same as me. Most women can't handle it. So what? Anyone who says anything bad about my husband can go straight to hell for all I care.

He's a good man. The best in the world. He's a terrific father to our children. And I don't know about other chemo-dykes, but he's enough woman for me.