Sunday, May 27, 2007

Chastity Planet Episode 3

Here's Chapter 3 of Chastity Planet. It'll make more sense if you start at the first episode of this SF male chastity story.



PUNH: The co-ed university where girls can become ladies, without becoming
women!
- The Planetary University of New Hymen Marketing
Department, New Hibernia
Division AD3115

Brigit turned away from Tom and bent over the room's object printer. The hem of her shiny silver dress rode up over her pale thighs. The moisture fled Tom’s mouth. Inside his chastity cup, his penis stirred and flexed.

Behind him, an air cab zipped past the open balcony window. Tom's naked buttocks must be on view to the whole world, but it didn’t matter. He leaned forward slightly and feasted his eyes on Brigit’s smooth, freckled skin. Even though he’d already tongued her flame-thatched pussy, he still wanted her… would always want what he could not have: his cock inside her moist vagina.

The printer pinged. Brigit straightened and turned on the heel of her strappy sandals. The slender fingers of her right hand now clasped a shiny black dildo. She brushed a stray lock of red hair from her face. “You’ll be familiar with this?” she said, her Celtic lilt making the words sound fresh and innocent.

Tom nodded. Tanya had never let him use one, but he knew what to do.

Deidre and Mary giggled. Tom looked at them properly for the first time. Deidre was too plump to be pretty. Mary was petite and blonde, but her hooked nose made her look a little like a goblin. Neither were ugly; just ordinary girls from some backwater world.

An orbital shuttle screamed through the night. Ordinary girls, he realised, renting an ordinary cheap apartment, too close to the spaceport.

Tom’s cheeks burned. Madame Amy’s Club felt like a porn tri-D, but this was different… real. His imprisoned penis shrivelled. Slumping, as if that would hide his shame, he edged away from the open doorway.

Brigit arched a russet eyebrow. “Well then?”

The slippery artificial penis half slithered out of Tom’s shaking fingers. He put one hand over the slit-less head and – feeling a little queasy – shoved the base against his chastity cup. The thing… squirmed… then bonded in the right place giving Tom a fake erection.

Again, a flush crept over Mary’s face and into the roots of her blonde hair. She put a tiny hand over her mouth. “It’s huge!”

Deidre just stared, open mouthed. She lent closer so that her heavy breasts swung forward under her pyjama top. “You’re never hiding a monster like?”

Tom looked down at the thing sticking out of his chastity cup. His own penis might be curled up in terror, but the artificial phallus remained defiantly erect. Performance anxiety didn’t really mean much on New Hymen. He straightened his back. “What you see is what you get.”

Brigit clapped her hands. “Beds!” Three single beds emerged from the wall. She cried, “Last one in, goes first!” and dived onto the nearest.

Giggling like a demented pixie, Mary launched her tiny figure over the back of the sofa and onto her own bed.

Deidre’s jaw dropped. She shrieked. “Oh, Mother of God! Not me!” She staggered over to her narrow bed and sat on it, hunched shoulders squashing her big breasts together.

“Go on then, Tom,” said Brigit.

Tom took a step forward and felt his cock harden. He smiled and thought, I’m going to fuck your brains out.

Deidre’s wide eyes followed his advance. As he sat down beside her, she asked, “What about privacy?”

“Lights down,” said Brigit. The room darkened

Mary giggled. “It’ll be just like back in the dorms at St Ursula's, sharing racy stories!”

“I don’t know what to do!” wailed Deidre, next to Tom. “I’ve never been with a man.”

“He’s not quite counting as a man!” said Mary.

“We’ll provide instructions,” said Brigit. “And if he hurts you, we’ll give him a demerit or two.”

“Tom,” said Mary. “Kiss her.”

Fear thrilled up Tom’s spine. The public whipping seemed horribly closer. It would be so easy for the nervous girl to lash out with a demerit. He twisted and reached for Deidre’s shadowy form. Her lips were moistureless and almost rubbery. Gently, he brushed his tongue against them. Her mouth opened and he tasted pizza. Down between his legs, his cock throbbed against its prison.

Mary’s voice squeaked out of the gloom. “Is he doing tongues?” asked Mary.

“Mmmm,” said Deidre.

“Fondle her breasts,” ordered Brigit.

Maintaining the kiss, Tom carefully reached under Deidre’s pyjama top and slid his hands over her soft tummy. His fingertips lodged in the fold between breast and ribcage. Carefully, he cupped each clammy breast and squeezed.

Deidre broke the kiss. “Sweet Mother of God! He’s got my paps!”

“Grab his balls, then!” said Mary. “That’s what the Sisters taught us.”

Deidre’s sweaty hand pushed between Tom’s thighs – she was clutching his chastity cup. “He doesn’t have any, silly.”

Tom’s penis twitched and he felt his face redden. “Yes I do!”

“Not on New Hymen!” declared Brigit. “And you only have a cock because we gave you one.”

“Now what?” asked Deidre.

“Take her top off, and suck her nipples,” ordered Brigit.

Tom tugged Deidre’s pyjama top over her head. A bare breast clipped his elbow. He shuddered and dropped the garment onto the floor.

“What does it feel like?” asked Mary.

The buxom girl’s shadowy figure shifted as she lay back on the bed with a rustle of sheets. “Worse than naked!” she said. “But…exciting.”

Tom knelt next to the narrow bed. He ran his hands over her round tummy and cupped a heavy breast. Slowly, he descended on it and fastened his lips around the nipple. It was salty but sweet.

Deidre writhed away. “Oh Jeez!”

“Shall I give him a demerit?” asked Brigit.

Tom caught his breath. His penis pulsed.

“No…” Diedre wriggled back down the bed. “I can feel…” Deidre gasped. “This tingly feeling. It’s making me feel hot down there!”

Mary squeaked. From somewhere in the room came a soft scratching sound, like a small dog scampering over wet sand.

“Take her bottoms off,” ordered Brigit, her voice breathy.

“Oh no!” said Deidre, but she lifted her hips for Tom to drag down her pyjama pants. Her body heat warmed his cheeks. A faint, savoury aroma teased his nostrils. “Omigod! I’m naked!” she said.

“Are you… wet?” gasped Mary. The moist scratching intensified.

Deidre shifted and a similar sound came from near by – the finger on pussy. “Very!”

“Fuck her, now!” gasped Brigit. From her direction came a new, faster scratching sound.

A wet ripple went through Tom’s penis. It shrank inside the chastity cup. His cheeks burned. The truth was, without the chastity belt he’d probably come all over Deidre before his cock so much as got near her. He was glad of the dark to hide his embarrassment

Tom climbed onto the narrow bed and clambered over Deidre’s plump right leg. Her damp skin stuck to his.

“Ouch! Careful!”

Tom flinched and felt his penis twitch. “God I’m sorry!” he gasped. “Please don’t give me a demerit.”

Brigit and Mary giggled.

He felt a tug on his chastity belt – Deidre had him by the dildo. “That depends on how good you are.”

He let her guide the tip of artificial cock so that he was poised to sink into her. Again, his penis swelled against its tube – but then, it didn’t really matter what it was doing.

“It’s too big!” she squealed. The plump girl curled forward. Her wet mouth pressed against his shoulder. Her fingers grasped his buttocks and dragged his dildo inside. She bit him and, between clenched teeth, gasped, “Oh Mother of God!”

His armoured groin bumped against hers with a loud squelch. I’m fucking her and I can’t feel anything, he thought. His penis went berserk, throbbing and pulsing, as if it could tear itself free of the indestructible prison between his thighs.

“Faster!” gasped Brigit from the other side of the room.

Tom worked his hips. The artificial cock plumbed Deidre’s vagina, slurping each time he withdrew. The only sensation was the rhythmic slap of his belly against hers. The busy fingers of the other girls kept the beat, so that the whole room seemed to throb in time to his thrusts.

“What’s… it like?” asked Mary.

“Good… Like… Like I’m going to burst and…” Deidre subsided into moans. Her soft hands slid around Tom’s forearms. Her nails dug into his flesh.

Tom doubled his pace, slamming the dildo into the plump girl again and again. Sweat coated her flesh, trickling down his hips where they touched her thighs. She heaved under him and groaned.

“What’s happening?” asked Mary. “I want to see.”

“Lights ON!” said Brigit.

Tom found himself staring into Deidre’s wide, black eyes. A crimson flush covered her round, perspiration-lacquered face.

Deidre grinned, shifted her grip to his waist and dragged him down against her sweat-soaked body, so that his chest squashed her large breasts.

Her big mouth enveloped his. He brushed his tongue against her lips. They opened and she sucked, drawing his tongue in until it hurt.

The new position forced Tom to rely on pelvic thrusts. Now his abdomen began to ache.

Deidre twisted her mouth free. “He’s slacking off!”

“We’ll fix that!” said Brigit. Her footfalls traversed the room. The replicator pinged. Something stung Tom’s back.

He yelped and turned his head.

Still in her silvery mini-dress, the redhead towered over the bed, her long fingers wrapped around the handle of a whip. She struck again, this time across Tom’s buttocks.

Tom opened his mouth to yelp, but Deidre crushed his mouth against hers and clamped her plump thighs around his waist.

Now each crack of Brigit’s whip made Tom flail his legs and howl into Deidre’s cavernous mouth.

A low growl welled up in the girl’s throat. Her breath hissed through her nostrils, scalding Tom’s cheek. Her teeth gnawed his lips. Her nails gouged his back. Finally, she tore her mouth free and screamed.

The whipping stopped. Tom flopped against her, immobile except for a futile quivering in his chastity cup.

From behind the sofa, Mary whimpered then sighed.

Tom’s penis pulsed in sympathy.

Brigit laughed. “I’m hoping you have something left, Mary. It’s your turn now!”

Slowly, Tom withdrew from Deidre. The dildo plopped out and he got to his feet. He felt as if he’d been punched in the stomach. His legs buckled under him. If Mary was expecting a repeat performance, he was in big trouble.


And this, gentle reader, is as far as I've got. Is it worth me writing more? While you're waiting, perhaps you'd like to check out my chastity novel, which is full of more of the same, but - since it was written for publication - in greater and more lurid detail.

Sunday, May 06, 2007

Building Chastity Planet

(If you prefer to read chastity erotica rather than read about writing it, then please skip to Episode One, or take a look at my male chastity novel.)

So, I’ve got my own planet! It’s called New Hymen. Like a lot of erotic worlds – let’s call them erototopias - it’s culture conspires to cater for a particular kink, in this case Male Chastity, with a dash of femdom. This makes it an S&M erototopia.

In most S&M erototopias, the doms seem to go to a lot of trouble to give the subs an erotic experience.

In the Story of ‘O’, despite all the arm waving about her total surrender, the masters spend ages putting the eponymous heroine through exquisite rituals, and take pleasure in stripping inhibitions so subtle that most men would stare at you blankly if you tried to explain them: “Yes, I made her sit on a cab seat with her legs open and no undies. Eh?” Men interested in pure physical pleasure care about receiving services – oral sex, massage, penetrating different positions and different orifices – not the state of their slave’s self esteem at that moment.

Similarly, the Anne Rice’s Beauty enjoys a masochist-orientated adventure. Even when she’s assigned to the Village where she’ll be a “real slave” and not a plaything, it’s all S&M fantasy. Real slaves don’t generally scrub floors holding brushes in their mouths, or transport gold coins in their rectums. Real slave owners just want the job done.

Does this matter? It’s only erotic fantasy.

True, but I’m one of those people who gets a buzz out of walking barefoot over an ancient cobbled street through a ruined city and imagining what it would be like to be the personal slave of a nymphomaniac Roman widow.

The more believable the scenario, the more powerful the fantasy. This is especially true of S&M fantasies. Reality gives them edge. (Though too much reality can spoil them.)

I'm also fascinated by girl next-door doms and vanilla relationships kinkified by chastity.

So, I created New Hymen as a far future female orientated pleasure planet. Somewhere, women and girls (over the age of consent) can let go, without any consequences. It’s not just “The safest girl’s night out in the known universe.” It’s also a place where women have all the physical and erotic power.

It wasn’t realistic to populate New Hymen with male slaves.

Straight women having fun like to flirt, neck, and enjoy one-night stands with pickups. Watch a hen party in action - there is no action without men to torment, intimidate, and ultimately entice. A planet of obedient male slaves just wouldn’t be interactive enough. There’d also be a problem with recruiting that many male subs willing to live 24/7 for a year or so.

So, how to use the SF setting in order to tweak the power balance in women’s favour, but without turning New Haven into an explicitly S&M world?

First, reverse the threat of violence. Each man is disarmed by an anti-violence collar (remember Spike’s chip?) and has no legal protection against anything but the most serious assault. Since most women are too civilised to beat up a man, they have the option to give out Demerits. Three Demerits, and it’s a nasty public whipping. Oh, and - just for non-assertive women from backwards patriarchal worlds – Half Demerits are anonymous and totted up at midnight each day.

The erotic power? That’s harder. Even when men can’t take pleasure by force, they can get it by emotional blackmail, or just by a female sense of duty – not all the visitors come from emancipated societies. The answer - strangely enough - is to put all the men in chastity belts… or better yet – since this is the Far Future – chastity cups held on by nanotechnology.

If he’s lucky, and depending on his caste, a man might persuade a woman to use her control ring to open his belt just enough for him to touch the tip of his penis. However, for most castes, this only works if she’s had a recent orgasm. Strangely enough, New Hymen men are very diligent lovers.

So, if the men are all disempowered, where do they come from? They need to be normal young men from off-planet, or there’s no story – an acculturated slave is about as interesting as a happy masochist. Also, normal women would turn away from a planet full of “drooling sex perverts”. Unfortunately, a normal man wouldn’t sign up to be sex slave for a year, and certainly wouldn’t want people to know about it!

What might tempt them – if the money was right – would be visiting worker status. Even nowadays, backpackers work in far more physically hazardous places. The Demerit system might seem arbitrary, but then travelling foreigners have always risked falling foul of local custom. If you’re polite and well behaved you really don’t have anything to fear… and did I mention that the money’s good. There’s also several very good universities. Course fees are waived for males, and the degrees laundered through off-planet institutions.

So most men arrive as Free Neuters, and leave a few months later, erotic horizons broadened. If they arrive with a partner hook up with a resident, they can even become Kept Men.

But, because some women want more subjugated men (and because this is a setting for erotic stories, which fail if there's nothing at stake), there’s a carefully set up slippery slope.

So, here's the hierarchy of male servitude on New Hymen:


  1. Free Neuter: CB never opens. Live freely as second class citizens.

  2. Kept Man: CB opens by default at home, but controlled by mistress.

  3. Bondsman: CB opens whenever a post-orgasmic woman decrees.

  4. Neuter: CB never opens.

  5. Mute: As Neuter. Also unable to speak.

  6. Damned: Sexual pleasure causes pain. Other statuses exist for this rank.

NOTES:

To get out of a duff relationship or dodge a public whipping, you can demote yourself, either as a gift to a woman of your choice, or else for public auction with the proceeds going to your bank account for when you eventually leave - of course, demoting resets the release clock…

Value increases the further down the scale you go, so if you give yourself to somebody, there's always the risk she'll just sell you on.

Businesses treat their bondsmen fairly well because they stand to lose money through voluntary demotion. They also give them time off, since there's a good chance of a sale to a lovestruck female at an inflated rate.