#33
That question caught Delilah off guard.
Her brows rose slightly.
“Yes,” she said at last, almost bitterly. “More than you’d think. Most of them avoid it altogether unless they’re forced. And even when they do… It’s half-hearted. It’s as if intimacy became something shameful, something unwanted. That’s why the Breeder program exists. Without it, the birthrate would have collapsed completely by now. Don’t you know that better than anyone?”
William was quiet for a moment, then he gave a small shrug.
“I don’t know. As for me, I love it.”
Delilah froze. Her eyes widened as though she’d just heard something blasphemous. She stared at him like he was a stranger, or a woman wearing the skin of a man, disbelief and suspicion swirling across her face.
William didn’t flinch. He didn’t try to explain or defend the words. He just let them hang in the air, unbothered by her stunned silence.
Finally, his voice broke through again, calm but steady. “Is men not liking sex really the reason the population is collapsing?”
Delilah let out a slow breath and nodded reluctantly. “Y–yeah. That’s exactly it. And it’s getting worse every year. A long time ago, men would take two, even three wives, sometimes more. It wasn’t uncommon, and women… at least had hope. But now? Even one woman is already considered too much of a burden for most men. They complain. They avoid. And in bed…” She gave a small, bitter laugh. “They don’t perform. They don’t care to. Even the ones who qualify for the Breeder program—supposedly the best of them—they do the bare minimum, just the required sessions, then stop. No passion. No commitment. Just a chore to them.”
Her tone grew heavy again, though this time it carried a tinge of fear buried beneath her irritation. “If things don’t change soon, this world is finished. Women can only carry the weight of the future so far before there’s nothing left to carry.”
William lowered his eyes, silent. He had no words to counter that. But if Delilah’s view of the world was true, then the situation was far worse than he imagined. Extinction wasn’t a distant possibility—it was a looming certainty.
He thought for a moment, weighing his words carefully before speaking.
“How can I be a Breeder?”
Delilah blinked at him. For the first time in their conversation, she looked genuinely stunned. Her brows lifted high, and her lips parted slightly. “Do you… want to be a Breeder?”
Her tone carried a mix of disbelief and suspicion, as though he had just confessed to wanting to jump off a cliff for fun.
William held her gaze calmly. “Well, it’s a career option.”
Her eyes lingered on him, searching for a trace of irony. But when she found none, her shock softened into something more thoughtful. She leaned back in her chair, folding her arms. “I suppose… you’re right. It is a career option.”
He caught the slight hesitation in her voice, the way she almost didn’t want to admit it.
“As I said earlier,” Delilah continued, “they’re compensated very generously. More money than most men would ever see in their lifetime. There isn’t a man alive who’d say no to that much money. But…” she let the word hang, her sharp gaze narrowing on him, “…this is not a simple path. It’s a special designation. Strictly controlled. The requirements are… unforgiving.”
“It’s that so?” William tilted his head slightly.
“Yeah.” She nodded firmly. “Sperm count. Fertility rate. Physical health and endurance. Even psychological evaluations. Everything is measured, documented, and tested again. They don’t want someone who looks good on paper but can’t deliver when it matters. Unless you are the very best among men, it’s very difficult to qualify as a Breeder.”
“I thought…” William mused aloud, “…with so few men around, wouldn’t every man qualify automatically?”
That made Delilah laugh—short, sharp, and a little mocking. She smirked at him with the kind of look an elder gives to someone still green. “And what? Let every man become a leech? The country isn’t stupid. Resources are limited, and benefits don’t just fall from the sky. If a man can’t even perform, what’s the point of paying him like a king? It would be a waste of taxpayer money.”
She leaned forward, eyes gleaming with amusement, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “Imagine dozens of men lying around, eating, drinking, getting fat, all while doing nothing but enjoying the perks of the title ‘Breeder.’ Does that sound sustainable to you?”
William smirked at her bluntness. “Not really.”
“Exactly.” Delilah sat back again, clearly pleased he caught her point. “Now, if a man in the program can get a woman—or two—pregnant every month? That’s worth the investment. That’s where the money makes sense. But if he’s just there in name, receiving benefits while contributing nothing… well, better to throw that money somewhere it can actually help society.”
Her logic was sharp, almost cold, but William had to admit—it was sound.
He glanced at her, curiosity sparking.
“How do you know so much about it?”
Her lips curled into a faint smile, her pride slipping through.
“Because I used to work at the City Center.”
William blinked. “Oh.” He hadn’t expected that. A government employee, then. That explained her tone—her precision. She wasn’t just speaking from rumor or gossip. She had seen the system from the inside.
Delilah tilted her head, her gaze softening but still edged with seriousness. “But tell me, William—why do you want to become a Breeder?” Her voice had shifted, quiet but firm, almost maternal in tone. She sounded like a teacher pressing a pupil for honesty. “I don’t want to discourage you, but… as I said, that profession isn’t exactly popular among men. Most avoid it, even when urged. And nowadays, there are plenty of other opportunities—good ones. Jobs for men that pay nearly as much, without the pressure that comes with the Breeder’s title.”
“…Just a thought,” William said with a shrug, his words casual, his expression unreadable.
Delilah’s eyes lingered on him, searching for cracks in the mask. For a moment, he felt as though she could see straight through him. But instead of pressing, she let out a quiet sigh and lifted her shoulders in a small shrug of her own.
“Well,” she said finally, “if you’re truly interested, you can always try.”
William smiled faintly, but said nothing. His attention drifted instead toward the children nearby, laughing as they played in the sandbox. Their carefree energy was such a contrast to the weighty topic between him and Delilah that he almost let the conversation end there.
“I’ll try that later,” he murmured absently. “Though… I don’t know if I can even get a pass.”
“…You know,” Delilah’s voice cut in again, softer this time, hesitant in a way it hadn’t been before. “If you’re serious about it… I might be able to do something. To help you.”
William turned back to her, brows arching slightly. He hadn’t expected that. And before he could ask what she meant, he felt it—her hand, light but deliberate, settling on his thigh.
He looked down at it, then back at her, his expression curious rather than startled. The change in her demeanor was sharp enough to give him pause. A moment ago, she had been his kindly, honest neighbor—an older woman sharing wisdom. Now, with that hand resting there, she looked almost like a mischievous old man trying to pull something bold.
But she didn’t move further. Not yet. Her palm simply rested there, her fingers warm against the fabric. Testing. Waiting.
“Well,” William said slowly, amusement flickering in his eyes, “I’ll think about it.”
Delilah smiled at him, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes. There was something darker in it, something probing. “I hope you do. You’re a good lad, William.”
She left her hand where it was, watching him carefully, as though his reaction mattered more than her words. When he didn’t brush her away, when he remained still and unreadable, her fingers began to move—subtle strokes, shifting toward his inner thigh. The touch was cautious, almost tentative, like she was afraid he’d push her away if she moved too quickly.
“Being a Breeder is difficult,” she said, her tone steady even as her fingertips traced faint, circling patterns. “The requirements, the expectations… It’s not easy. But there are also… benefits.” Her voice dipped slightly, suggestive without needing to say more. “Privileges. Comforts. And… attention.”
William leaned back, watching her with quiet amusement. It was obvious what she was doing. The way her fingers inched upward, the way her eyes flicked toward his face every few seconds to measure him—it was all too telling. But instead of reacting, he simply observed, letting her continue as though this was some kind of performance he was judging.
“And of course,” she went on, her words smooth but her eyes a little too sharp, “you’d be helping your country. That, in itself, is an honorable thing to do.”
As her hand drifted higher, William shifted. Not away—but forward, placing both his hands in his lap, forming a casual barrier. His movements were calm, but decisive enough to halt her.
He tilted his head slightly, a smirk playing at the edge of his lips. “Is what you’re doing right now… helping the country?”
The question hit her harder than he expected. Delilah froze, her smile faltering for just a heartbeat. For the first time in the conversation, she looked caught. And in that flicker of vulnerability, she tried to pull her hand away.
But William moved quickly. He closed his legs just enough to trap her hand in place, holding it between the firm press of his thighs. He didn’t grip her, didn’t hurt her—he simply prevented her from retreating.
Her eyes widened, surprise flashing across her face.
“So?” William pressed, his tone light, teasing even, but his eyes sharp as he held her gaze. “Am I helping the country by letting this happen?”
Delilah’s throat bobbed as she swallowed. Her lips curled into a strained smile, a mix of defiance and unease. “Y… yes, of course.”
But the crack in her voice betrayed her.
“I see. That’s a wonderful thought,” William said, turning his gaze aside as if their conversation didn’t matter much at all. Her hand, though, remained between his thighs. And instead of pulling back, she pressed firmer—her palm sliding slowly, deliberately, rubbing at the warmth of his skin through his clothes.
He allowed it. A faint smile touched his lips, secretive, unreadable.
“S–so… have you thought it through?” Delilah asked. Her voice trembled—not from fear, but from a kind of greedy anticipation.
“No. Not yet,” William replied, cool and steady. “It’s just a passing thought. Besides, trying to pin down a career now feels premature.”
“H–how could that be?” she countered quickly, leaning closer as though to trap him with her words. “Planning early is everything. If you step into this line of work now, you’ll earn more down the road—and men like you? You’d make a fortune.”
But the longer her hand lingered, the weaker his posture seemed—at least to her eyes. His knees slackened, his thighs parting, until her knuckles brushed unmistakably against the bulge beneath his pants. Delilah’s lips curled into a grin.
William, however, only spoke with the same calmness.
“You talk as if it’s certain I’d even qualify. Didn’t you say yourself that the requirements are strict, and most men can’t pass?”
Delilah’s grin sharpened, confidence brimming in her tone.
“I can make that happen.”
Her words were bold, shameless. Women like her wore authority the way men once did in his old world. And just as shamelessly, they reached for what they wanted, convinced it was theirs for the taking.
“If you truly want it, I can arrange things,” she went on, her hand giving an almost possessive rub against his thigh. “But nothing is free. There’s always a price.”
The look she gave him was the same look men once gave pretty women in bars—half challenge, half invitation.
“Why don’t we talk over a drink? Coffee, juice… I’ve got the good ones waiting at my place. I usually have one around this time, and since this conversation might turn into something… lengthy… we could enjoy it together.” She rose from the bench, chest out, her smile smug as if she had already secured him.
William’s eyes lingered on her a moment. He could see the expectation burning there, the way she waited for him to fall into step behind her like so many men must have before.
He stood slowly, brushing off his trousers. “I suppose I could listen.”
Delilah’s heart leapt, her grin widening—victory already in her grasp.
But then William added, lightly, “Another time. Not today.”
“W–wait! I mean, I was just—” Delilah stammered, panic cracking through her bold façade. For all her practiced confidence, the sudden shift unraveled her.
But William stopped her words by grabbing her breast.
“I’m interested,” he said while squeezing her tits. His tone was smooth, almost reassuring, as though he hadn’t noticed her desperate attempt at control.
Still, they were amazingly big and soft. And she’s not wearing a bra. They were sagging with age, but holy cow, they’re amazing.
“But I need to go home now, or else my family will worry. I wasn’t supposed to be out for long.”
Her mouth opened, then shut again. “I… I see. Then you’re not angry?”
“No. I had fun talking with you, Mrs. Shimmers. And thank you for answering all my questions. You cleared my doubts. I’m grateful. I’ve never really talked about these things with anyone else… honestly, I was a bit embarrassed to bring it up.”
Delilah blinked. His sincerity threw her off balance even more than his rejection of her advance.
“No, not at all. In fact… I should be the one thanking you. I had a—ahm—a pleasant afternoon.” She forced a soft smile, but her eyes were shining with something restless.
“Then, if I have some doubts again, I hope I can still talk to you about them.”
Her heart gave a little jump.
“Of course! Of course—it would be my pleasure, lad.”
A visible sigh of relief softened her expression.
William rose, gave a polite nod and turned to leave. He was already a few steps away when her voice rang out, louder than she intended.
“B–boy, wait! Can I… can I get your number? I mean, if you still have more questions, or if you ever want to talk to someone, anyone—I’m always free. Just so you know. Besides, if you’re really interested in becoming a Breeder, tell me. I can truly help.”
William glanced back. “That’s a good point.”
Without hesitation, he pulled his phone from his pocket and handed it to her. Delilah snatched it eagerly, her hands trembling ever so slightly as she opened the Contact Messenger. She scanned the QR code, and a smooth synthetic voice chimed,
[Connection Successful. Please register the name for this number. If not registered within two minutes, the default name will be saved.]
Her lips curled into a smile as she typed.
“William Grant. There, that’s good.” She handed the phone back almost reverently. “Thank you… I’ll treasure this. I mean—if you need anything, anything at all—just tell me.”
“I’ll do just that.” William slipped the phone into his pocket and, without another word, walked away.
Delilah stood frozen, staring at the boy’s retreating. Her heart pounded.
To think a boy like him exists.
All the things she’d heard—a woman-hater, spoiled, arrogant brat—lies.
He wasn’t anything like that.
William Grant.
She bit her lip hard, a strange glint flashing in her eyes. Frustration mixed with excitement, shame mingling with hunger. He had slipped away from her grip, yes—but that only made the chase more intoxicating.
Hey guys, good evening. I’m sorry for the slow updates these past few days; it’s getting harder to find free time. But anyway, here it is. Thank you all for waiting. Also, I would really appreciate any support you send my way. It’s getting harder to get by these days… anyway, I hope you’re still liking the story.
