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Glory Wormhole

Two teenage boys walked down the street to the public bathroom at the shady gas station behind Fantasy’s Fun & Games. The taller of the pair, a high-school junior named Liam, retracted himself into a baggy hoodie, glancing in every direction for any familiar face. The shorter, older boy, called Terry, strutted to their destiny. The bathroom, connected to the gas station and the adult novelty store, was covered in a sticky, brown sheen. Liam was certain this bathroom was the epicenter of the last chlamydia outbreak. Terry was certain that honor belonged to Liam’s mom. Liam pointed to a well-worn hole in the wall, about waist height. “I’m not putting my dick in that.”

Terry rolled his eyes and leaned against the sticky wall. The fibers of his t-shirt and the back of his hair glued themselves to the patina of filth. “Fine, embarrass yourself in front of Samantha Herkimer.” Terry turned towards Liam and smirked. His shirt and hair freed themselves from the wall with a sickening slurp. “I’ll just hit her up after your date.”

Liam studied the graffiti above the wall. What happens at this hole, stays in my hole. He agreed to Terry’s half-baked plan when it was concocted yesterday. In fairness to himself, Liam was also baked at the time. The plan made sense. He needed to get more experience under his belt before his date with Samantha Herkimer. Hopefully, he wouldn’t end up with a terrible nickname like The World’s Worst Vibe, a guy who had an epileptic fit over nerves, or Sunny Dee, the dude who got a sunburn on his junk from getting locked outside without pants. High school was difficult enough being under 5’6” with the hand-eye coordination of a drunk ferret. Rumors of lackluster sexual technique weren’t an option.

Liam scrunched his eyes shut and fumbled with his pants. Before Terry could object to Liam breaching the etiquette of glory holes by pushing limp rope, the boys felt their world compress. Existence ceased to have meaning. Every particle of themselves was deconstructed, destroyed, and reconstructed. Dread hummed through Liam, tortured by the reality of instant teleportation. Terry felt slightly nauseous, failing to comprehend the reality of instant teleportation.

The boys found themselves in a sleek, metallic room. The walls were round, and gravity felt wrong. Instead of the accustomed feeling of being pulled down by the ground, they were being pushed into the floor by an artificial force. The boys stood and looked at each other, unsure and unsettled. A swoosh caught their attention. A woman with exaggerated proportions entered the room through a sliding door to their left.

The woman introduced herself, “Good evening humans. I am Kahliel.” She, like all aliens before her, picked a form she thought the earthlings would be familiar with. Her haphazard research led to an appearance based on heavily filtered Instagram models and TikTok beauty gurus. Long hair flowed from her head in a blonde to brunette ombre. Her face would have been more appropriate on a doll. Her chin and nose were pointed and miniature. Her eyes were almond-shaped and as large as silver dollars. Her eyes glowed. Her snatched waist would have only been possible with the removal of a few organs and ribs. Her curves seemed to be immune to the influence of artificial gravity. “I need your help. I need your sperm.”

Terry lit up. His grin went from ear to ear. A beautiful woman needed him, needed his dick, and all was right with the world.

Liam went slack. His world was crumbling. Would he see his friends again? What about his mom? Would Samantha forgive him for standing her up? He would never pass high school. He would never graduate from college. He would live and die as the plaything for a terrifying woman from the depths of the uncanny valley. “What?” asked Liam.

Kahliel explained. “Our reproductive methods include keeping embryos in stasis until the resources required to raise the embryo into adulthood are acquired. Our planet experienced several catastrophic events. More embryos are in stasis now than at any other time in our history. We don’t have the resources to support the influx of embryos.” Throughout Kahliel’s explanation, her face and body appeared to glitch. A glimpse of a wrinkled face and a wide, round nose peered through the filter. The waist occasionally bloated to twice the width. “Specifically, we need albumin which is available in human ejaculate.”

Terry vibrated with excitement. “How much do you need?” he gushed.

Kahliel answered, “we need at least 0.1 grams per embryo per month, so 42,000 grams per year until our planet recovers to support our current level of reproduction. Ideally, the planet will recover in 20 years, but more conservative estimates suggest recovery will take 30 years.” Kahliel started to reach out to the boys, but she paused. “Will you help us?” She patted herself on the back for remembering consent is important to the lower lifeforms. Her plan was fool-proof.

Liam panicked. “20 to 30 years? 42,000 grams per year? That’s 3,500 grams per month. That’s 115 grams per day.” His mind raced with questions he was unable to answer. How much does the average male ejaculate at once? They just went over sex ed in health class. Was it 100 milliliters? Was it 10? 115 grams of spooge per day seemed improbable, impossible. How much albumin was even in spooge? It couldn’t possibly be 100% albumin. The life of thousands of alien embryos hung on his ability to make quota; an ability he didn’t have. “Wouldn’t it be easier to use eggs?” Terry kicked Liam and glared. Liam continued as Terry mouthed at Liam to shut up. “Chickens lay eggs faster than we could fill a jar with, uh, ejaculate.”

Kahliel’s blinked. A small current blew through the room from her thick, three-inch lashes. Her face turned towards a screen in the door. Incomprehensible gibberish sputtered from her mouth. Louder, angry gibberish spewed from the screen. Kahliel’s research was being cross-referenced, and the humans’ suggestion was being reviewed. The lower lifeforms ruined her plans with a question. The new harvesting facility tailored to the tastes of human males would remain untouched, a testament to her wasteful failure. Kahliel flared her nostrils and pressed a button.

The room compressed. The boys were deconstructed, destroyed, and reconstructed. With a thud, they landed back in the dirty bathroom. Terry gaped at the sudden change of scenery. The wildest reality he could hope to fantasize about was gone. The statuesque Kahliel was gone. Life returned to term papers, finals, and driver’s ed, and it was all Liam’s fault. Terry slammed his friend with his frustrations. “Why didn’t you keep your fucking mouth shut‽ You could have waited until after she had her way with us. You could have waited until after we found out how they wanted to get our shit.” With outstretched arms and furrowed brow, Terry demanded, “What the hell is your problem?”

Liam curled into a ball on the floor of the bathroom. His hoodie was now stained with a rainbow of semi-dried bodily fluids. Liam stared at the wall, unable to find the graffiti above the glory hole. He mumbled, mostly to himself. “We would have been sex slaves.”

“Exactly!” Terry yelled back, punching the wall where the hole used to be. “We would have been sex slaves!”

Recommend0 Simily SnapsPublished in Fiction, Humor, Sci Fi

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