(3 months later)

Alex

Knocking on the large door before me, I paused briefly before reaching up to open it.  I’d become accustomed to eye-level doorknobs.  My new home featured none of the ‘man-friendly’ accommodations of mainstream contemporary homes.

“Julie?” I whispered, poking my head in, expecting no reply.

Confirming that she had indeed gone to work, I went back into the hall to drag the laundry basket into the room of one of my new mistresses.  I serviced four altogether now, just like all the other unattached males in the compound.  Naturally, said services were quite comprehensive. 

Each residence housed a typical Matriarchy ‘unit’: four females and a male.  Nothing overlarge or opulent, but they featured all the necessities for comfortable living – provided you were a woman, of course.

The laundry basket was nearly as tall as me, so I shoved it to spill its contents on the floor.  The clock told me I had about an hour until Patricia woke up.  If I could finish Julie and Sara’s laundry in the next 30 minutes, that should leave me enough time to have her breakfast ready. 

Grabbing the stool in the hall I carted around to make my chores easier, I got busy folding. 

As it was the first day of fourth rotation, only Patricia had the day off.  I was hers for today and tomorrow while my other three mistresses worked.  Every two days the women rotated, and I was reassigned to the next woman in my unit as primary mistress. 

As I worked, I tried to appreciate the rare moment of solitude.  Soft sounds of the birds beyond the window calling to one another were the only intrusion to the stillness of the house.  I envied them their happy ignorance as they went about their daily routine, oblivious to the events that had turned the human world upside down.  Just the simplicity of finding a partner and raising young, as it had always been. 

Shaking myself from thoughts of the past, I focused on the task once more.  I’d been down that road many times in the last three months.  Those thoughts never led anywhere I wanted to go.

The bright morning sunlight illuminated dust motes in focused beams as they pierced the room.  It reminded me that I needed to dust soon.  I put the clothes away in her dresser and straightened up a bit, tidying the bed and organizing her shoes.  I scanned the room for anything else that needed attention.  Her colorful décor and artwork lent the room a cheerful disposition, much like her personality.  She had always been kind to me, so I didn’t mind doing a little extra for her.   

Shutting the door behind me, I hurried on to repeat my tasks in Sara’s room. 

Laundry finished, I made my way to the kitchen and started to prep breakfast for Patricia.  Ten eggs, four pieces of buttered toast, two Kielbasa-sized breakfast sausages, two whole grapefruits, and a half gallon of orange juice.  She had an appetite.

The kitchen had become my primary workspace over the last few months.  Like the rest of the house, everything in it was designed and sized exclusively for women.  Not exactly the most pragmatic approach when you plan to have men do all the housework.  Then again, I was pretty sure I knew exactly how much sleep they lost over men’s struggles …

At least I had been given several stools, allowing me to access cabinets, prep food, and operate appliances – albeit with difficulty.  A casual visitor might have inquired about the rubber knee boots that sat in front of the sink.  I was rather proud of my resourcefulness with those; I’d quickly realized that sitting on the lip of the sink was by far the easiest way to get the job done given the sizes of dishes and sink both.

With about four minutes to spare, I placed all of the food on a breakfast tray bigger than a boogie board.  Balancing my cargo on my head with skills earned from months of practice – and not a few costly mistakes, I made my way to Patricia’s room.

Standing in front of her door, I hesitated before knocking, knowing she could be irascible in the morning if woken “incorrectly”.  Patricia liked to arise naturally on her days off, but insisted that her breakfast be hot and ready for her in bed when she did.  Knock too hard and I would wake her prematurely; too softly and I ran the risk of entering without properly announcing myself.

Finally settling on what I thought was a moderate knock, I waited the requisite five seconds and entered…and exhaled in relief as I heard her light snore.  The room was dim, the blinds blocking out all but a few scraps of sunlight. 

Carefully, I made my way to the chest at the foot of her bed, weaving past dirty clothes that she carelessly cast to the floor the night before.  She could be a real slob.  I laid the tray on the chest, and noiselessly opened the blinds just slightly to allow her to awaken. 

I was just about to sit down for the first time all day to await the inevitable summons when I realized I forgot to brush my teeth.  Oh shit!  Quickly I ran to my bathroom and corrected the oversight.  The clink of dishes and the muted sounds of the news on her TV announced that she had woken.

“Alex!”

Months of conditioning had trained me to respond instinctively, and I quickly made my way back to her room.  Doing a mental check that all was as it should be with my appearance before entering, I realized I still had on my sweatshirt over the revealing top she preferred me in.  Casting it aside, the slight chill from the early hour made me shiver.  I entered.

“Morning, Mistress Patricia” I intoned.

She sat up in bed against a pile of pillows, her fine cotton sheets – being head mistress of the Chapter had its privileges – covering only her legs.  A silk robe was cinched at her thin waist, but revealed a tantalizing view of bronzed skin between prominent, barely covered breasts.  Her dark brown hair was silky with blond highlights and styled in a bob that covered her right eye.  As always, it looked as though it had just been made up.

She brushed some of the hair from her face with a finger, regarding me coolly with her hazel green eyes.  I suspected she had some native American blood from her skin tone and exotic look.  I had to admit, the woman was as beautiful as she was terrifying.

She grinned as she drank in the sight of me.  I knew this shirt was one of her favorites because of the way it exposed the sides of my pecs. 

“Ah, there you are.  Good morning, my sweet.”

I provided her with the breakfast tray, trying to keep my distance and reduce my pheromones as much as I could.  Even if she used a libido suppressant later – never a guarantee – she was always frisky in the morning.

Patricia set about eating as she watched the news.  Some story about men’s rights activists.  She barked a derogatory laugh and changed the channel, moving on to the grapefruit. 

I busied myself with preparing her room.  Opening the blinds, picking up her dirty clothes, tidying her things, organizing her shoes, makeup and jewelry. 

“All your morning chores complete?” she inquired, without bothering to look at me. 

“Yes Mistress, laundry’s done, bathrooms cleaned, rooms tidied.”

“Good.  I have a bit of work to do today, and I don’t want to be disturbed by your shuffling around doing housework.”

I gritted my teeth in anger at her complete disregard for my situation, but held back my retort and nodded.

“What would you have me do today Mistress?”

I never really got a day off as the women did, but occasionally one of them would be too busy or simply not in the mood to actively spend time tasking me.  Still, this rarely resulted in personal time. 

She consumed the last bit of sausage, washed it down with a couple dozen ounces of OJ, and was now working on the eggs.

“I’ve got Ann on a trip to town today to get some supplies, including groceries; we’re getting low.  I’ll need you to take the cart and retrieve what we will need from the community supplies.

“Ann should be back to the compound by 10:30am.  Be sure you are at the depot no later than 10:15am to be first in line when she returns.”

“Understood, Mistress.”

She nodded.

“Later today I’ll be introducing you to an important guest from one of our sister Chapters.  You will be attending me for her visit.”

She must have sensed my deep anxiety and fear at this news.  I’d helped her “entertain” VIPs before.  Normally it meant showing me off to make them jealous, but occasionally, if she really wanted to get on good terms with a visitor, she’d shared me out to them for a few hours.  Never had I been treated more like an object…

Her expression softened, “There, there.  It’ll be okay sweetie.  I won’t let those women abuse you.  Not like last time.

“But don’t think badly of them, Beautiful.  You’re just so delicious and irresistible.  It’s not really their fault that they can’t help themselves.  Some of them aren’t accustomed to men.  They forget how delicate you are.”

Ha!  Forget!  Please…they enjoy the torture.

She put the tray of food down and turned off the TV, leaning over on the bed and crooking a finger to summon me.  As she rolled onto her side, her robe fell open and exposed a gigantic breast.

Her passion rose when she noticed my stare.  She breathed deeply of me, and I could see her two-inch long nipple grow erect.  She rimmed it with one delicate fingertip, firming it up quickly. 

“Now, Gorgeous, your Mistress needs your talented tongue.  Do a good job, and maybe we can do something fun today.”  Her smile grew even larger.

I knew this was coming, of course; it’s how she started every morning.  It didn’t make it any more palatable.  Though incredibly physically attractive, what was inside repulsed me.

As with everything I did with her, removing my clothes was an act purely for her pleasure, not mine.  I followed the script though, and removed them slowly, vaulting myself onto the bed next to her.  She sat up and slowly opened her robe, revealing her flat tummy, thin waist, and sexy hips.  She lay exposed entirely on the bed, her back propped up by the pillows and legs bent so her knees were elevated.  Her thighs and calves were thick with muscle.  Not bodybuilder built, but extremely toned. 

My body responded to the perfection of her physical form, and I tasted bile in my throat.  The gleam of lust was clear in her eyes as she touched me.  For the millionth time, I cursed the involuntary reaction of my infected body as it forced me into a ready state, able to comply with the sexual demands of any woman that happened to be in need.

As I started to caress her skin, I felt myself sink into depravity once more.  I wanted to run from the room to escape this vile creature that had forced itself upon me so many times. 

Unfortunately, though I resented myself for it, I had given up defying my new owners.  No walls or electrified fence held me, but the chemicals coursing through my blood bound me to their will just as effectively.  To even make the attempt at disobedience could result in beatings, depending on who gave the order and what kind of mood she was in. 

I told myself that I was only being pragmatic by obeying so consistently, that I was biding my time.  That I was probing intelligently at my invisible bonds.  The truth was that I was starting to become, in fact, what these women saw me as: a purveyor of female pleasure. 

With so much daily practice, my technique had improved, or so I’m told.  Even the man-hating Kenna grudgingly admitted what a pleasurable toy I was.  Ironically, though these women seemed incapable of real love, it was this very feeling I shared with Elise that enabled me to bring them to such fantastic heights of bliss. 

Slowly moving up toward Patricia’s center between her legs, I kissed her soft skin and used the power of my imagination to bring Elise to my lips.  She and the others must have known that I imagined myself with another woman.  The look of love in my eyes was surely unmistakable.  The care and tenderness with which I approached my craft.  I don’t know whether they simply didn’t care, or didn’t want to threaten the “secret sauce” that went into my ability to satisfy them, but they never forced me to say.  For that I appreciated them.

Patricia’s eyes were closed, and I could see the slight shiver beginning to overwhelm her body as my kisses progressed into increasingly tender territory upon her silky inner thighs.  The backs of my hands lightly breezed upon her flesh, teasing out even more sensation from my lips.  The slight tremor in her hand told me she fought with herself not to reach directly for her own gratification. 

Finally, I approached the petals of her flower.  She spread her legs wider, allowing it to blossom.  The fragrance was making coherent thought difficult, but my will was iron, and Elise stayed centered in my thoughts. 

If only I had done these beautiful acts with her the day I was taken.  She had begged me for it, and I had refused her.  My eyes stung from the pain of how I had tortured her.  She told me she was in need, and I had denied her.  God, did I regret that.  If I had made love to her then, as she so desperately wanted, she may have called in sick.  I could be with her even now, but my stupid pride had to get in the way.

Knowing exactly how much tolerance Patricia had for the teasing I was submitting her to helped me push her right to the brink.  I made my lips plush and wet to kiss and nuzzle the baby-soft flesh all around the very spot where she badly wanted me.  Just as I felt her hand about to come down on the back of my head to force the issue, I plunged my tongue into her, eliciting a guttural moan from somewhere above me.  I licked her long, engorged lips, now soaked in her juice and tasting simultaneously honeydew sweet and citrus tangy.  

With her moans coming loud and fast, I repositioned my mouth on her clit.  Another cry issued from her as I pressed my fingers into her sex.  Successfully hitting the magic spot on her upper wall, her whole body jerked and her legs clamped down painfully upon me.  She tuned me and everything around her out as she screamed, mashing my face to her weeping pussy with one huge hand, focusing solely on enjoying the cresting wave of pleasure. My face was drenched with her fluids from hairline to chin and I sputtered, attempting to breathe as she held me in position. 

Finally, it abated.  When she finally released, I noticed that my hand had been treated to a gush of feminine cream.  She relaxed upon the bed, sated for the moment. 

“Mmm, that was wonderful.” She engulfed my head in both hands and looked at me tenderly.  “You’re the best I’ve ever had, Alex.  That was definitely worthy of a treat. 

“Think about something that would make you happy – within reason, of course.  I need to shower and think about what fun we can have together tonight.”