Friday, April 13, 2007

Chastity Planet: Episode 1

(Skip the the intro if you want to get straight to the chastity erotica!)

Here's the first episode of a sequence of a SciFi male chastity yarn I originally wrote for Altairboy.

OK. Mea culpa! In my last post, I was rather scathing on the subject of erotic utopias: Wot? No threat? A pleasure planet, is of course, nothing more than an erotic utopia wrapped up in SciFi bondage tape. As long as the inmates are volunteers, it's hard to see an erotic threat for visitor or denizen.

In my Chastity Planet sequence, I tried to give it a twist: I set up a world which isn't overtly femdom, but in which the men are all enslaved to some degree. There is a cunning slippery slope; if you don't like your situation, you can always demote yourself out of it. So, men accompanying their partners, or gap year youths earning a good stipend as bartenders, sometimes find themselves having a longer and more degrading stay than expected.

Is it enough? Does this work? You tell me. The sequence is complete but for one episode. I plan to post tidied up versions of the what I have. With enough encouragement I might even finish it.






EPISODE 1: The Redhead


“New Hymen – The safest girls night out in the Galaxy”
New Hymen Tourist
Board, AD 3102.

#


The girl scowled down at Tom. Her chubby fingers closed on her signet ring. It was a pretty gemstone, but one twist would take Tom a demerit nearer to a public whipping.

Tom’s chastity cup seemed to fill with ice. The vaginal juices dried in his mouth, leaving a salty sludge. The music from beyond the licking booth became a sharp, nagging thump in his temples.

Again, he dragged his tongue up the cleft between the girl’s fleshy labia, desperately seeking her clitoris. How did I end up like this? he wondered. I only came here to please Tanya.

The plump customer just sat there, legs spread, but inert.

The music paused between tracks. Now feminine chatter rattled in Tom’s ears, reminding him that tere was a world of scornful women just outside the booth, waiting to see him flogged.

The music swelled. Each beat made Tom flinch as if it were a whip-crack.

Fighting panic, he changed tactics and dropped to squash his face into wet labia and hook his tongue into her vagina.

Fresh juices spilled into his mouth. Above him, the girl squirmed. She drew up her short legs and rested her feet on the highest of the padded bars which projected from the walls of the licking booth.

He had her! Tom’s penis tried to unbend against the chastity cup. He ground his tongue against the mouth of her vagina and strained against his cuffs, wishing he could slip two fingers into the slippery tunnel.

A flush shone through the girl’s heavy makeup. She twisted and shouted to somebody outside the booth.

She probably had friends on the dance floor. Tom decided to give them a show. He worked his tongue faster, vibrating in time to the music, his captive cock pulsing in sympathy.

Just as his tongue began to ache, the plump girl’s eyes widened. Her hands found the back of his head and crushed his face into her vulva.

Tom gasped for air and ground harder, counting the tongue-strokes.

On the thirty-third, she pushed him away.

He sat on his ankles and watched as she smoothed her mini-skirt over her big thighs and stepped around him without so much as glancing down.

Experienced tourist, he thought, or perhaps a Citizen.

The breeze of the open door tickled his back. He twisted to look over his shoulder.

Beyond the threshold of the booth, the dance floor was crowded. Women of all ages jostled around a handful of men – some Free Neuters also flaunted their freedom, but mostly black-collared Bondsmen like Tom dating in their free period. He grimaced. The only way out of the Licking Booths was if somebody bought his contract.

The girl paused in the doorway and chatted with her wide-eyed friends – definitely tourists fresh off a starship. Perhaps a hen party or graduation present – after all, for all its steamy reputation, New Hymen guaranteed the safest girls night out anywhere in the galaxy.

I don’t even know her name, but I just made her come, he thought and felt a twinge in his chastity cup.

The client stepped aside. Tom glimpsed an impossibly tall redhead hovering on the edge of the dance floor.

Her silvery mini-dress barely covered her thighs. She wore it awkwardly, hunching her shoulders to lower its hem by an extra few centimetres – as if that would make it modest.

The door swung shut.

There was something about the tall girl that made Tom want her as his next customer. He hunched to see under the edge of the booth.

From the forest of legs he picked out a pair of slender shins rising up from strappy sandals. Red toenails peeked from the open tips. It had to be her.

She shifted weight from foot to foot, hesitated, then walked briskly towards Tom’s licking booth.

Tom cursed and wriggled around to put his face in the cleanser.

A familiar breeze brushed his bare back. He couldn’t resist glancing over his shoulder.

The redhead stood in the entrance to the licking booth, one ankle crossed over the other.

Tom’s gaze swept over her elegant feet, webbed by simple high-heeled sandals, and followed her impossibly long legs – bare and with a hint of freckles – until they vanished under her silvery dress.

Inside the chastity cup, his cock strained hopelessly to erect itself. His captive balls throbbed.
He stared up into the girls’ green eyes

She blushed.

Hastily, Tom looked down – no point in earning a Demerit through bad manners.

It was then that he spotted Tanya gliding through the crowd like a blonde ghost, not a snowy hair out of place. Fear clawed his spine. She would still be angry that he’d preferred to downgrade to Bondsman than be her Kept Man. He bowed his head lower. Perhaps she wouldn’t recognise him.

The red head brushed past and the door swung shut.

By the time he had shuffled around to face her, she was perched on the booth’s U-shaped seat. She stretched her long legs into a tense inverted V. The movement made her silver mini dress furl over her slender hips, unveiling a red bush between pale thighs. Her long inner labia pouted from behind the russet frizz, glistening like wet rubies.

All the moisture fled Tom’s mouth. His penis curled in on itself then flexed until he imagined it was about to split its plasteel prison.

He craned forward and pushed his face between her thighs. Lovingly, he drew his tongue over her vulva, parting the red curls. A second stroke dipped into delicate flesh and his senses filled with a savoury honey taste.

His penis gave a little spasm, and he knew his chastity cup must be dripping semen.

The redhead’s thigh muscles hardened against Tom’s ears. But, no sign of pleasure.

Tom explored the moist nook at the apex of her pubic slot. A clitoris popped up to greet his tongue.

He ground the slippery nub and at last, the girl squirmed in her seat, making her long legs writhe like snakes.

Tom repeated the movement until his tongue ached, but nothing else happened.

He glanced up and saw that her green eyes kept flickering around the club. Nervous and self conscious. Probably just off a cruise ship, and striking out on her own. He couldn’t imagine her giving him a demerit, but that just made him want to please her all the more.

He had just one gambit left.

He withdrew his head. When she looked down in surprise, he dove between here freckled thighs, took her red-thatched vulva into his mouth and sloshed his tongue up and down, tweaking her clitoris at the end of each stroke.

The readhead shuddered. Her slender thighs clamped his ears. Then one leg dropped between his. Her sandal scraped his thighs and her toes rapped his chastity cup.

Tom licked faster and she cried out, louder even than the pounding dance music. Her juices flooded Tom’s mouth, her nails gouged his shoulder blades, her foot pressed up against his chastity cup until her toenails dug into his buttocks.

The redhead climaxed with a scream then flopped against the padded back wall of the licking booth.

Tom slowly withdrew.

Her toes glistened with his semen. He ducked down to kiss away the offending smear before she noticed.

When he looked up, she slid off the seat and stood above him. The mini-dress dropped back into place. But kneeling at her feet, he could still see her saliva-soaked vulva glistening in the gloom between her pale thighs.

Tom’s cock throbbed. If he didn’t have a proper orgasm soon, he’d go insane.

The redhead stood straighter now, as if her public display had given her new confidence. “Oh!” She touched her signet ring.

Tom flinched, expecting a Demerit. Instead, there was a familiar squirming in his chastity cup. The tube end yielded slightly. His cock swelled, pushing the very tip of his penis into the tiny opening. As a Kept Man, he’d learned that a few minutes of frantic fingerwork would give him an intense orgasm – Tanya had called it his clitoris.

Tom flushed. Back then, there’d been plenty of time for experimenting. Now he had just five minutes before the gap closed, entombing his penis. He checked the time on the tall girl’s old style watch then shrugged his shoulders to remind her his hands were bound.

Her eyebrows arched. Her green eyes seemed to focus on him for the first time. “Oh, a Slave.”

Tom heard himself blurt, “Bondsman.” He wanted to add, “You can date a Bondsman…” but the words died on his tongue. On New Hymen, it was dangerous to disagree with a woman.

She tilted her head, making her red hair swish across her face. “You’re afraid of me.”

Tom nodded. Perhaps if he found the right words...

A face appeared over the edge of the cubicle. “That was some orgasm.” Tom recognised Claudia, the resident lesbian predator. Her succulent lips pursed into a smile that was almost an invitation to a kiss. “Come join us for a drink.”

A blush blotted out the redhead’s freckles. Her green eyes hooded.

Tom held his breath. There was something about visiting a penis-free planet that turned women bi-curious. Not this one, he thought. She’s mine.

Claudia glared down at him.

Tom flinched. He lowered his gaze before she decided to give him a Demerit.

Above him, the redhead said, “OK.”

Without another word, she left Tom kneeling on the floor of the licking booth, savouring her aftertaste.

He had to have her properly, to run his hands over her sleek body and kiss her delicate face. But would she succumb to Claudia’s charms before his shift ended?



(Continued...)

5 comments:

ScarlettLeopard said...

speaking of intriguing... I may have to wander over to altairboy and see if I can find the rest.

Giles English said...

So you prefer the setting to my Whips and Stockingtops world then?

ScarlettLeopard said...

hmmm I've only read the one whips and stockingtops its an interesting setting but it doesn't really have the hook I think maybe there is too much tell and not enough show. Chastity planet is more active.

An Insomniac Night Owl said...

Have you been revising the New Hymen story again? I don't remember elements like the face cleaner (but I like it - hygiene is a good selling point to all the tourists!)

However, I'm not sure you're getting all of the mileage possible out of the licking booth bondage. Would it be possible to integrate the polymorphic collar and cup, too?

Right now, the licking booths feel a little low-tech - and a bit too . . . optional. It still seems like he could refuse to lick a client, or otherwise stand up to her. And you've got those wonderful cup-and-collar nanotech devices . . .

My suggestion would be to include a “pedestal” or locking bar, coming out of the floor of the booth. Based on the same technology as the cup and collar,, it would integrate itself into his cup, dislodging any prosthetics, and hold him in a kneeling/submissive posture. Then, when his shift is over, it releases him.

As for the collar, consider something like a retracting leash. Again, right now, it seems a booth guy who could simply sit back and refuse to lick his client (assuming he was willing to take the demerits).

The leash, though, would continually pulls his head and face towards the client. When the seat is empty, the pull is negligible - he can easily lean back, use the cleanser, look around . . . . maybe even get some water or juice to replenish his fluids.

But when a client is seated, the pull is almost overwhelming - the booth leash keeps him right against his client’s vaginal area. A violent jerk of his neck and back will get him a few inches . . . but the leash immediately starts pulling him back to “do his job”. Thus, during a busy time, he’s . . . motivated to move quickly through his backlog of clients.

An Insomniac Night Owl said...

You might also consider making the walls of the licking booth out of auto-tinting or self-frosting glass. That way, when the booth is empty, the women can "window shop" for a cute guy, yet perserve her modesty when she's inside.

A second consideration might be to have some kind of stage name and/or rating system. Its quite plausible that certain booth guys would develop a certain celebrity, complete with fan clubs that follow them around. Similarly, clubs with booth males who consistently score 5 tongues out of five are going to be quite popular with the tourists . . .

You might also consider something a bit more "meta" for things like the licking booths. Women playing "licking booth bingo", complete with bingo cards, where they pursue five different ethnicities, or eye colors, or . . . That kind of thing.

And of course more prosaic things - loyalty programs (buy 9, get the tenth free), college night, and so on . . .

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