Postapocalyptic world ruled by women

This saga is set sometime in the not too distant future. A world which has recovered from an apocalyptic disaster brought on by men is now run ruthlessly by women. Small feudal citadels within walled towns are run by despotic females; each town with its own rules. Fortified Manor houses with tiny surrounding hamlets are owned by less ambitious females. The planet has returned to its former rural idyll with swathes of forest and grasslands, though life for the male population is bittersweet at best and short for most.

Once again Nilok found himself up for sale. He stood on the market gallows with six other males, all of them just thankful that the throng of smiling, leering women were there to purchase and not punish on this occasion. The citadel of Ovum Fortis loomed up behind them on this sunny spring morning. The surrounding wooden and brick properties tumbled down in a web of streets and byways, from the hillock on which it stood. This was a thriving community and he had managed to survive in freedom there, pretending to be owned, until he had sampled too much ale and fallen foul of the bounty huntress who would now claim the price she made. She sat behind him, pulling on the chain about his neck frequently, making him tense the muscles in his upper body in an effort to keep upright. She knew this would give the women a chance to view his assets. He was neither Hercules nor Adonis, but would serve one of these women well.

Like all males, Nilok was no stranger to being owned by women. His education was a succession of canings and whippings by women, before women. Collared for as long as he could remember, he had been tugged on a leash from one household to another in the servitude of many women. As soon as he reached puberty, he had learned to serve mistresses in another way and this was the only pleasure he had known at the hands of females. Needless to say, punishment went hand in hand with the meagre relief offered him. He had been a runaway on several occasions; either the cold or hunger forcing him back into servitude under one matriarch or another. As each community was feudal and held its own rules, males from elsewhere were considered the property of the finder.

On his last 'run' he had escaped from a particularly vicious female at the northern citadel of Stellar Regina. He had been attending an apothecary and had secured some balm for a whipping which had gone septic. This was close to the very steep boundary wall to the west of the community. As he left with the balm, a landslip took a section of the 25 foot wall down the hillside with it; he and about twelve other males took their leave of that establishment at that time. He picked up a steady pace and did not stop running south for a good two hours. He had vaulted small streams, run through larger ones, zigzagged through countless woodland and sprinted across open glades. He could not help smiling as he plodded up the hills and careered down the valleys. Even going arse over on three occasions did nothing to dampen his spirits.

He had worked his way south over a period of three days. On the second day, his stomach gurgling with hunger, he had been fortunate enough to venture close to a manor and had come across two sword carrying women, with a party of tethered woodsman. They had carelessly left their lunch unattended; he had relieved them of some welcome bread and cheese, and slipped off back into the undergrowth unseen. The woodland was just warm enough to allow him to sleep through most of the darkest hours; he lay looking up at the stars through the canopy above, disturbed only by the snorting of badgers and the odd blood-curdling cry of the vixen. He was soon awake in the half-light though; wracked by cramp in the dewy dampness, he would brush off the moss and leaves and jog on till the dawn sunlight warmed his bones.

On the third day he crossed a sunlit ridge and looked down on a towering citadel. The habitation nestled on a small hill at an apex between two higher sweepingly curved and wooded hills; its position was symbolically feminine, as though it were the place of sensitivity at the nub of that most womanly of female features. This omen made him smile and wary too; it was inviting in more way than one, he would be well and truly within the domain of the female on this occasion. He could see the small plumes of smoke coming from the various little establishments around the citadel; some of these would be bakeries. His stomach growled. Though freedom was the one thing he really relished, he could not live in the woods forever. He had retained the collar about his neck from the last confinement; he had thought of discarding it, but would use it to his advantage. It was after all, a sign of ownership; if he could get in there, he could sham that he belonged to a female and live a life of semi-captivity. It seemed like the best option he had. His damp trousers were hanging by the last notch on his belt, and his feet were perpetually cold and damp in his felt boots. Though the name of this place was not known to him yet, Ovum Fortis looked increasingly inviting. He would be drawn in to the womanly fold before him; its geographical symbolism serving to mimic that eternal trap by which all males are enslaved.

Nilok approached the citadel by way of the fertile valley which led up to the northern entrance. He was careful to duck down low by the stream and ponds which ran parallel to the rudimentary cart track which was elevated close by. As the sun set, the towers cast huge shadows across the valley to his left; and he crept up to the very base of the wall at the north-eastern quarter, out of sight of any possible sentry at the gates around the curve of the wall. As dusk descended, he was preparing for another night in the open, when he saw a portly woman astride a train of carts loaded high with sacks. The horses wallowed out of the gloom of the valley; the woman visible in her white robes. A male slave walked before the leading horse. As Nilok looked back along the line of six carts, he noted a pair of legs hanging from the fifth; whoever it was that was supposed to be minding the tail end was not doing his duty. He had to act fast, and scuttled down and across the open ground to the rear of the train, using the cover of what small bushes there were.

He heard the massive gates being wheeled open as he boldly held on to the rear cart. A cold sweat came over him as there was no time to hide amongst the heavy sacks; as he put his arms over the back of the cart, his hand grabbed something. To his delight, he had found a cattle whip. He now felt bold enough to stand back a yard or so as the tail end of the train passed into the confines of the citadel. The slender female guards with their exposed blades and crossbows smiled lustily at him and he smiled back, whip over shoulder as he passed them by. There was no going back.

He had dodged from pillar to post, poaching pies and convincing some of the older women that he had been sent to help them by his benevolent owner, in the hope that they'd feed him for his charity; some of them were more than glad to see him and allowed him favours which he took great comfort in; so did they, and he was rewarded with a little money. He was just beginning to get into a sort of petty gigolo lifestyle when he became too casual with some ale which a kind lady had made available to him. A pair of eyes had been watching him from afar, and tracked him as he bumbled back to his place of rest. It was patently apparent to the bounty huntress that he was fair game, when she watched him clamber into a makeshift bed in the recesses of an old barn. He awoke to find himself trussed and tethered by a very sharp looking brunette with soft brown eyes. She stroked his hair.

"Having seen you perform, I'd like to keep you for myself, but you know how things are. With the way you've been advertising yourself, I expect there will be a fair queue of women making bids for you. I'll be able to take a month off!" So there he was, on sale again. He looked down at the women there. Some looked so soft and gentle, others carried whips. They all eyed the males with that look of contempt that came so naturally to them when viewing a prospective male slave. The auctioneer lifted her head and licked her lips, looking back at the selling females with their livestock.

"Time to display them!" The women stepped forward and released the lower garments of the males. Nilok's brunette smiled as she cupped his balls and stroked his member so the ladies might view him. Inevitably, all the males on show soon displayed healthy erections. Though size was not imperative, the demonstration of their arousal was usually a sign that they remained in rude health. Several of the women caught his eye as he stood with the brunette's delicately gloved small hands, exaggerating the extent of his manhood. He could see she had done this many times before. Their trousers replaced, the bidding began.

The mid-morning sun now made beads of sweat trickle down his cheeks as he concentrated on the crowd of women, hoping his luck would prevail for once. One by one, the softer looking women disappeared; they had either just been for the entertainment or had not the funds required for the males on show. Quite often they just turned up for the 'display', and then went home, no doubt choosing a lucky male from the household to sate the arousal which lingered from their brief excitement. Either way, he was not to get lucky with a soft woman today.

The bounty huntress unhitched him and led him down the steps to a large rotund, woman with two younger girls in tow. She grabbed his face by the cheeks and twisted his head one way then the other. Her long blonde hair was plaited in pig tails; she was not exactly ugly, but she had a very stern presence about her, which was magnified by the short mean whip she carried. She smirked at him as she passed the coinage to the pretty huntress. She sneered at him and turned away, displaying her tight prim buttocks as she went; how he wished she'd kept him. The large woman leashed him by the collar he now wished he'd discarded. She smiled wickedly at him.

"Let's get him home for a bath girls; I want to see what he looks like when he's clean." As she pulled him along out of the market place, and toward the eastern side of the hill, he watched her large bottom mince in the thin skirt she wore. The two young girls often turning and discretely eyeing him, they were both very pretty; perhaps it would not be so bad after all. They walked for 15 minutes or so, and then came to a small homestead close to the eastern wall, with a fair sized smallholding which was diversely cultivated. He was taken into the cosy wooden building, and walked through to a large tub set in the stonework of a patio area; this was half full with water. A large hopper with an open fire under it was heating the water within it. He was leashed to a support.

The girls opened a tap from the hopper and hot water gushed down a gulley into the tub. They then undressed him, as his new owner did the same before him. She smiled as her huge breasts and cheeks wobbled as she descended into the tub. One of the girls hurriedly undressed and picked up a large sponge as she joined her mistress; his cock was now more than a little excited on viewing the lithe young woman's naked body. The other girl had also stripped and she blushed as his member brushed against her as she untethered him. He was now fully aroused as he was led down the steps of the tub by the nubile maiden to greet his new mistress.

She picked her short whip from the side of the tub, and flicked it at him, making him kneel in the warm water between her legs as she sat on the submerged seat.

"My name is Clara; you will call me Mistress Clara. I am your new owner. You will do exactly as you are told, as and when I tell you. You will be worked during the day on my land, and perform other manual duties. You will keep me warm at night and pleasure me when required. You will be whipped for any disobedience whatsoever." The two girls either side splashed their sponges petulantly, careful to raise their sweet little breasts just above the waterline. His cock pulsed in the luxury of the tepid water. The woman flicked her whip again.

"If I learn that you have so much as looked at my girls when I'm not here, you will find yourself wearing your balls around your neck before the hour is out." His rectum clenched at the assertive woman's comment, though he knew he'd be tempted.

"Tonight you will get to know your new mistress intimately, so we'll have you thoroughly cleaned now." The young girls dipped their sponges and began to rub him down; this part was exhilarating, but he knew the mistress may require special services; his balls tingled as she toyed with her whip in the water.

To be continued...
17728 days ago, 13894 reads
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