James and Grace wants to start a family, but you need permission to do so.
(This title explores not only wife sharing, but also humiliation, crossdressing and cuckold. If you are uncomfortable reading contents like this, please give it a miss.)
Due to the length of this piece, i will be splitting it into 2 releases.
Part 1 – 12000 words
Part 2 – 12000 words
I held my wife’s hand as we stood outside the Ministry of Population Control. We exchanged a look and wondered if we should go ahead with our decision. The world was getting overpopulated and resources were being stretched thin. Global warming, rising sea levels, all of those weighed heavily on the minds of governments around the world. To combat over population, every country in the world had implemented some form of population control. In Singapore, the situation was under control, however, you were only allowed to start a family upon approval. And to get that approval, you had to go to the Ministry of Population Control, also known as the MOPC.
Due to our small land area, resources were limited. Babies born must be of a certain quality and the factors determining those qualities were not made known to residents like us. Your guess was as good as mine. Surely you would think that those who wanted to start a family would flood the MOPC trying to get permission to have kids but you would be wrong. To ensure that married couples did not make any hasty decisions, there were rules that you had to abide by. Aside from meeting the minimum income as a couple, you also had to be disease free. The government needed healthy parents in order to have healthy babies.
Application was free but in order to prevent abuse, the MOPC came up with a unique rule. Since your intention was to start a family, should you or your partner come up short during the evaluation, another partner would be assigned to you. In simple English, if the panel decided that your genes were not good enough for the next generation of Singaporeans, your wife’s eggs would be fertilised by another man deemed worthy of carrying on Singapore’s legacy. To step into the MOPC and put in your application was to give your consent that should the evaluation not work out in your favour, your wife would be bred by another man, someone healthier, someone better, someone stronger, someone smarter, someone with better genes than you.
A large LED panel displayed the current stats in full view of the street. More than 60% of applications by couples were approved. The other 40% were broken down into several different groups. 20% were rejected outright due to inferior bodies, genes and health history. The other 20% were assigned better mates on the day of their application. Out of the 20% that were assigned a better mate, 10% resulted in a successful impregnation.
On a smaller screen, it detailed the history and past records of the successful pregnancies that happened as a result of the MOPC’s pairing efforts. All of the kids that were born from the MOPC pairing system went on to attend elite schools. From gifted programs to Ivy League universities, the Singaporeans that were produced from the initiative were a mark above the rest not only in terms of academic results. Olympic gold no longer eluded us. We had started producing elite sportsmen and women. The 1st generation of babies born via the MOPC initiative were leaving their mark on the world. From billion dollar start-ups to astronauts in the International Space Station, the Singapore flag was flying high. The results spoke for themselves and the results silenced the population into compliance. You wanted to start a family? Trust in the MOPC. They knew what they were doing.
I looked at the figures and I felt my wife, Grace, tightened her grip. I could feel how nervous she was as well. I adjusted my backpack and I felt the weight of my educational certificates and various upgrading courses I had taken over the years as a Diploma holder. Grace on the other hand, was a university graduate. Both of us held a cushy civil servant job in another ministry. In terms of money, we were confident that we could raise a child comfortably.
James: Are you ok dear?
Grace: I’m ok… are you?
I nodded even though my heart was thumping really fast. I took another look at the stats of the successful applicants on the screen and prayed that the odds would be in our favour. Because if not, I did not know which was worse, having to walk out being denied permission to start a family, or to watch another man attempting to impregnate my wife over the course of the next three days.
We held each other’s hand and crossed the threshold into the MOPC.
12000 words – part 1
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