The Utopian world of Callipygia...just a legend...?
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Many women have been going missing in the general region of the Black Hills of South Dakota, and men have been appearing drunken and wandering on back country roads, claiming to have been used as studs. A rumored lesbian sex slave camp hidden in the forest is being blamed for the missing women.
Stephanie Daniels, 28, journalist for the Cheyenne Eagle, asks only for a home, a job, a little fun once-in-awhile, and to have someone who truly loves her. Her insensitive boyfriend, Billy, does not. So she's going to leave him for awhile and go undercover to investigate that rumor of a sex slave camp. With professional journalistic clothes in her luggage she dresses as a teenage runaway for the bus ride to Quicksilver, the main local city. In halter top and cutoffs she attracts the attention of a flambuoyant fellow passenger, Robbie, and his traveling companion, Jill. Stephanie does not trust the pair but they "are" a first contact. She should have listened to her first suspicion.
After two months Stephanie has interviewed all the men and the families of the missing women, plus has hitchhiked as a runaway and traveled the entire 100-mile perimeter of her editor's suggested area. She is close to giving up when, resting and having a beer in a dark bar, Megan appears, and offers to take her to Callipygia, a place with a humanistic goal but questionable methods. Stephanie will soon find herself wondering if her job still awaits her, and responsible for two pregnant women.
Stephanie Daniels felt her mouth fall open. She had just received the shock of her young life.
“We want to create a more sensitive society,” Megan added.
My God. Stephanie’s mind flew to the interviewed men with stories of being used as studs. She had believed them, yes, at least believed that they really believed it, but had also sometimes considered them quite humorous and chauvinistic. Stud service. What a laugh. But no longer.
“Oh, we aren’t like Hitler—“ Megan began.
“Why aren’t you? Do the men have a choice in the matter?”
“Well, not really. But we don’t force them, exactly.”
“My God, Megan,” Stephanie pushed away, “Meg, I can’t stay here.” She moved to the tent flap, wriggled her way through, and then fully realized she was in deep forest with no idea which direction even to go. She hadn’t even kept track of their direction yesterday. Just not thinking clearly at all.
“I can’t let you leave, Steph,” Megan appeared at the tent flap, dragging her backpack.
“You can’t stop me, Meg.”
“Yes, I can.” Megan slipped through the tent opening, reached into her backpack, produced a very small handgun, “You must not leave, Steph.” She introduced a cylinder to the barrel and began twisting it on.