Bookings spiked by 1,200 percent post-election, and IUD signups more than octupled.
I can never get a vasectomy, I just can’t say what will happen in the future. Suppose there’s’ some sort of societal collapse, man becomes an endangered species, and I somehow end up captured by a tribe of busty amazonian women who want to use me as a breeder, just constant and frequent encounters with different women every night. However, they check to see if I’m still fertile and realize I had a vasectomy, then they kill me and eat me. I can’t take that chance.
The Amazon is being burned and cleared to make room for cattle ranches, soy feed for raising farm animals elsewhere, wood, palm oil, and minerals. There is no need to be concerned about Amazonian women.
I see, you’re one of those who are disinformed by the meat industry PR departments to believe that the soy feed is a “byproduct”.
And upon confirmation of my fertility, Lula, their chieftess (34DDD) takes me to her personal sanctuary inside of a rusted out old Greyhound bus on the edge of the ruins of old Cincinnati, close to the Forbidden zone.
Once inside, her personal servants cleanse my body of filth from the rigors of travel. As is tradition with their tribe, soap is applied directly to their nude bodies before being rubbed vigorously across my body.
After an extended cleaning session, and a pat down, I’m deemed acceptably clean for my first mating with Chieftess Lula, who will personally collect my sacred life juice, impregnating herself to produce the tribe’s next chieftess. After that, I would be given the rest of tribe, a slave to their every whim, expected to impregnate their finest, bustiest shield-maidens. I thank past-Me for never having gotten a vasectomy.
Stay tuned for the continued adventures of the Fallout Fuckboy, as he struggles to survive the She-Demons of Cincinnati!
