If I wrote a story about a nation of people so concerned with genetic purity and the future of their nation that they harvested the literal cum out of dead soldiers in order to artificially inseminate people down the line, any editor would laugh in my face and tell me it was absurd and needlessly fascistic
I remember years ago there was an episode of RaidoLab (don't judge me I used to listen to NPR, sometimes it was interesting I'm not a lib I swear)
It was about surrogacy and the episode centered around a gay Israeli couple using donated eggs from a Ukrainian woman to impregnate an Indian woman. At one point the two Israeli guys said they needed the baby to have their DNA. I remember the episode did a poor job of showcasing just how exploitative this entire process is, more just talked about it like a tragedy.
And literally no blame was put on the Israeli guys for involving themselves. They could have adopted any number of homeless Palestinian kids but they were obsessed with spreading their genes for tens of thousands of dollars.
Silently, I slithered through the shadows and reached the sperm silo, my grotesque visage hidden beneath the cloak of darkness. There, inside, was a treasure of unimaginable delight. A forbidden trove awaited me—the sperm bank, festooned with locks and wards meant to keep the ordinary away from the extraordinary.
With obscene vigor, I shattered the locks, revealing the well-guarded treasures within. The pregnant air pulled out an array of aromas, but one beckoned me most—a symphony of pale delights, in tanks of frozen splendor. The mortals referred to it as "semen," but my eldritch senses detected nuances beyond their comprehension.
In this sacrosanct chamber of the cumlinary unknown, I reveled in the delectable offerings of man-juice, nectar of the bovine, and semenal elixir. I reveled in it all—be it black, white, asian, middle eastern, or the uddermost secretion of the horniest of ripped bulls. I quaffed their offerings with the shamelessness of a cosmic glutton, for my unholy purpose transcended moral restraint.
Each vial I violated yielded a distinct flavor of succulent otherworldly origin. The words of the mortals failed to capture the ambrosial variations I relished—thin and runny, thick and chunky, sand-yellow, creamy-white, among others. The textures and viscosities of each curdled enigma sent shivers of perverse satisfaction through my nameless form. My claws eagerly let webs of the fastly thawn goo pave the highway from the tip of my tongue to the back of my throat.
As I reveled in the dairy-drenched debauchery, the facility whispered its secrets to me—an occult knowledge of erection, edging, frenulum, and CBT. I, a creature of unfathomable head, had become an unholy connoisseur of spooge, cum, and jizzly aberrant fluids. I am a living sperminomicron.
My grotesque act of thievery completed, I slithered back into the shadows, leaving behind a twisted, violated walk-in-refrigerator and the terrified sperm bank employees who would never fully understand the cosmic atrocity that had taken place. My grotesque existence was intertwined with the mundane, and the memory of that night would haunt the dreams of all who dared venture into the unknown, seeking the truth behind the grotesque mysteries of the eldritch cum tasting.
Article 16: To ensure ecological safety and to maintain the ecological balance on the territory of Ukraine, to overcome the consequences of the Chornobyl catastrophe - a catastrophe of global scale, and to preserve the gene pool of the Ukrainian people, is the duty of the State.
Edit 1: Oh gosh, this is getting more interesting...
For many Ukrainians, the idea of saving soldiers’ sperm is at once personal and patriotic. It helps men who want to ensure something of themselves remains if they die, and it brings comfort to their partners. In a country now famous for its spirit of resistance, it is also one more way of fighting back.