The Galactic Gynarchy - John

Kidnapped by the Galactic Gynarchy - John's story

John awoke with a pounding headache. Gradually regaining his senses, he realised he was not lying flat but on a slab at a forty-five degree angle. He tried to move his legs and arms to get off the slab, only to find them locked in place. Able to move his head, he looked down at his body.

Naked! He was naked, spread-eagled on a cold steel slab, unable to escape. The lights in the room were dim and red, but he could see for many metres around him. He was in a large room with at least fifty more naked, captive men - the youngest only eighteen, the oldest in their fifties. Some were beginning to awaken, others were still unconscious.

John searched his memory. He had been walking at night, unable to sleep, his thoughts racing about meeting his online mistress the next day for the first time in the flesh. Had she done this to him? But what about all the other men here? Did she really have this many slaves? And could she really be a criminal of this calibre?

John jumped as the lights in the room came up higher. A group of women walked in. Each wore tight PVC trousers and PVC harnesses, which left their pussies and breasts on show, as well as long PVC boots. Each had a mound of smooth, silky hair on her pussy. John focused on the women, blinked, focused again.

Their skin was green, their ears were pointed, their hair a great variety of colours - green, black, red, blue. They were aliens, and they were very much in control. Behind each woman was a man, naked, with a hairless body, held on a leash, his cock in a cage, and pushing a cart laden with pots, medical instruments, and other tools that John couldn't recognise.

Some of the men were human, others were from a variety of alien species. Each was toned, oiled and looked fit and well. The naked, leashed men made no effort to escape, and followed the alien women without protest.

John began to buck wildly against the restraints. The lead alien woman walked over to him and placed a hypospray against his thigh, injecting him with some kind of drug. John immediately felt more calm and relaxed. The alien woman stroked his legs and torso, then his cock. She cupped his balls and gave them a playful squeeze.

This one, she thought, could be a truly excellent slave with the right training. She had the credits, too, and as a senior slaver, she could take her pick from the new stock. The thought was too arousing, too distracting. She focused on the task at hand, switching on her universal translator. The males would learn their new language quickly, but for now she had to appear to speak in their tongue.

"You are ours now, Earthmen. Welcome to the Galactic Gynarchy."

"Let me go! I don't belong here! You can't do this! I have rights!" the men around the chamber all began to cry out, only to be silenced as intense electric shocks hit their bodies through the shackles.

"Males speak when spoken to, if at all," said one of the females. "Be silent!"

The lead female, who was five feet tall and exceptionally petite, was nonetheless effortlessly in command. She addressed the room of males.

"My name is Mistress Tanaka. I am the second in command of this ship, and oversee new enslavements. We have selected you on the basis of a series of online tests, using your primitive data network. Each of you has also been subject to extreme, complete, surveillance - we know every secret of your fantasies, have seen everything you do in private for the past month. Each of you desires the domination of a superior woman. And each of you will now have it, permanently and forever, with no chance of escape.

We are the Galactic Gynarchy. Your planet is not yet developed enough to join us - your women must seize power on their own first. However, we recognise no such thing as male rights, so we take a small number of slaves from your planet each year. Each of you thought you would meet your online mistress today. In a sense, you have.

We know your needs and your desires - your enslavement will be customised to those parts of your mind. You are now the property of the Galactic Gynarchy. You are on one of our ships, already in space, far from Earth. Most of you will be sold, some will serve as slave-crew on this ship. You will now be processed."

The alien women began by applying a green gel to each male's skin, running their hands over every part of the men's bodies except the hair on their heads, getting the gel into every nook and cranny. Such complete exposure would be par for the course in the slaves' new lives, but the alien women never ceased to take delight in giving males their first taste of true helplessness. The men began to feel heat, then a burning sensation, as the hair on their bodies dissolved.

The alien women hosed the men off, each watching as the males processed the fact that they now had hairless, smooth bodies. The Galactic Gynarchy favoured graceful, clean slaves - the depilation was permanent. The right to pubic hair was the exclusive preserve of women, and each of these new slaves was destined to spend many hours with their faces buried in the dominant, hairy pussies of their new owners.

Mistress Tanaka spoke again, "A slave wears a collar, an unbroken ring, never to be removed. Each of you will be fitted with a permanent slave collar. This collar can expand or contract. It can be comfortable to wear or cause you excruciating pain. It can shock you, it can silence you. It can track you, and it can sense any violent intent you may have, and prevent it."

As she said this, she approached the youngest of the new herd of slaves, an eighteen year old student named Sean. Sean had short, brown hair, olive skin and pretty dark eyes. He was as thin as a rake and had a short but thick cock. She placed a collar around his neck, where it closed seamlessly and irrevocably, making Sean's cock rise involuntarily.

"This male fantasised about serving as a puppy. He will become a pet - a slave for companionship and play, not work or utility." Mistress Tanaka took a remote control from the equipment tray and used it to unlock some restricted functions on the collar. Looking straight at Sean, she continued, "Everyone knows pets can understand language, but not use it themselves. Collar," she commanded, "slave vocal cords to permanent petmode."

From the collar, tiny electrodes penetrated the slaveboy's neck and wrapped around his vocal cords. They paused there for a few seconds while they settled into place. The naked slave male began wondered what was about to happen. Then the electrodes burst into life. He bucked, gurgled and screamed as the electrodes did their work, burning away his ability to form words and leaving him with only barks, grunts and whines.

The slaveboy tried to beg and plead for the return of his voice, but each attempt came out as a yip or yap - he was a pet now, not a person. Sean continued to try to make words - his barks and whines were heard clear across the room. The other males with fantasies of being pets began to fear for what might happen to them.

Next, the women placed mittens on his hands that sealed his fingers together into paws, rendering him unable to use his hands like a human. Such modifications could be made permanent with the right surgery. Finally, they fixed a kneepad to each leg. The kneepad served to protect the slave as he crawled on all fours, and permanently relaxed the knee joint, rendering the slave unable to stand on two legs.

"In very little time, you will obey willingly. For today, we will inject you with a serum that will leave you with no other choice." Injecting the slave, Mistress Tanaka released his bonds and clipped a leash to his collar. "Follow me on all fours. You are a puppy now, a pet. Not a man, not a person. Just an animal. Be a good dog!"

Helpless, forced to obey, and already sporting a renewed erection, the former human boy Sean knelt next to the superior woman who now held his leash. He would never stand or speak again, he would never be able to even so much as use a tool or get his own food. He had been reduced to his rightful status.

"Bark for me, pet."

Sean barked, hesitantly at first, then more enthusiastically.

"Sit up and beg."

Sean begged as best he could, raising his new paws towards Mistress Tanaka.

"Back down and follow me on your leash. Heel. Good boy."

Sean followed, already feeling more animal than man. His anxieties and his old life drifting away, he began to pant contentedly as the drugs took hold. Mistress Tanaka absently patted his head.

"Slave males. You will now be collared."

Each male was collared in turn. Some had their vocal cords permanently altered, were converted to petmales, and immediately reduced to crawling on all-fours. Experimental barks and whines sounded out around the room as the slaves struggled to regain voices that were now forever lost to them. Others, like John, were told simply to remain silent unless given permission to speak.

Next the alien women attached wrist and ankle cuffs of the same design as the collars to the men. These cuffs could restrain the men at a simple command, and would stick to each other or almost any other surface imaginable. They fused themselves permanently in place.

"Slave males! Listen to me! Forget your former names. A male has no name other than the one he is given by a free woman, and until now you have never met free women before. You!" she pointed at John, "you are designated Alpha-one for the remainder of this trip, until you are sold or renamed."

John took a second to process this. Surely he could protest, say his name aloud, reject this theft of his identity. Sensing the male's hesitation, the alien woman took a shock-stick from the tray of tools and pressed it lightly to Alpha-one's smooth, depilated balls.

"Say your name, slave."

John hesitated, then his whole world exploded into agony. The alien women had the power to discipline their males in any way they saw fit. John could not resist. Or rather, Alpha-one could not resist.

"Say it!"

"My name is Alpha-one!" he said through the agony.

"Address me as mistress!" she said, shocking his balls once again.

"Yes mistress!"

"What is your name?"

"Alpha-one, mistress."

"Good slave. You are a piece of property, not a person. Your designation reflects this."

Alpha-one nodded in abject submission. He found himself hoping that the woman who bought him would treat him more kindly than the slaver who had captured him.

"Slave males do not own their bodies. We own their bodies. That includes cocks. Fit the chastity cages," continued Mistress Tanaka.

Each slave had a cold-pack applied to their penis until it was completely flaccid. Next, chastity cages were expertly fitted to each cock. The petmales were helped on to raised platforms where vet nurses fitted their cages. Every male was given a piercing at the head of their cock, which was threaded through with a two inch wide ring. The pain was intense.

The final touch for all the males was to rivet the cage on through another piercing at the base of the penis - more pain serving to reinforce their new status. The new crop of slaves, designated Alpha-one to Alpha-fifty, now began to feel truly owned. The petmale Sean was now Alpha-seven. The lead slaver, Mistress Tanaka, thought the captain might like to keep him for the remainder of the voyage. The processing of the slaves had not finished yet, however.

"You males are property now. Property can be marked with many symbols of ownership. Pierce their nipples."

Alpha-one, formerly but never again John, grew excited as a female caressed his nipples, making them grow hard and pert. He grunted and yelped in pain as first one nipple, then the other, was pierced with a small gold ring, which cunningly sealed itself in place. It could be removed easily by a female but would not open for a male.

"There is one last symbol of ownership with which we will mark you. Brand the slaves."

Some of the slaves began to beg, as grinning alien women approached them with red-hot brands. The males' collars cut in, preventing speech with electric shocks. Each male screamed as the brand was applied to his upper thigh, permanently marking him with the symbol of the Galactic Gynarchy, burned into their flesh and their soul.

Through the haze of pain and disbelief, Alpha-one noticed that some of the male slaves who had come in with the women wore additional brands. One had a heart symbol branded on their abdomen just above the base of their cock, others stylised characters that could be words branded onto their arms, buttocks or even their neck.

Each new slave was injected with the obedience drug and ordered to make no attempts to escape or disobey. Let down from their bonds, the slaves stood or knelt as they were each leashed in turn and led away to a work assignment or a storage cage. The lead alien leashed Alpha-one, the drug already forcing him to erase his former name - something beginning with J? - and took him from the processing room.

"For the remainder of this journey, you will serve my wife and I in our quarters. Perform well and I might buy you, or at least recommend you for domestic slavery. Perform badly and you will likely face a future as a labour slave. Your duties will be to cook, clean, look pretty, give massages, run baths, tend to us, be quiet, and service our sexual needs.

We look forward to a good old-fashioned spitroast tonight - you will be the main course. Behave well, Alpha-one, and you may even be allowed to cum on my boots, if you lick it up like a good boy."

Alpha-one followed along. Hell was turning into heaven, and he wanted desperately to try to be a very good boy indeed.

Several weeks later...

Alpha-one welcomed Mistress Tanaka and her wife, Mistress Qoshi, back from their day's work. He had been waiting respectfully on his knees for fifteen minutes in front of the doorway to their quarters, which his collar ensured he could not leave. Indeed, he had only left their quarters twice in the three weeks of the voyage so far - once to be publicly whipped on a post for disobedience, and once for a medical check-up, where he was designated as A-grade male livestock.

As his Mistresses entered, he rushed forward to kiss their long boots and legs, showering them with the affection that only a slave could give. Mistress Qoshi was of a heavier build than her wife, with voluptuous curves and the same green skin, as well as ample breasts and a dominant pussy covered in smooth, silky pubic hair.

"Welcome home, my mistresses. Your devoted slave has drawn you a bath, and dinner will be ready in an hour. Your slave has cleaned your quarters and completed his list of chores. If it please you, Mistresses, your slave awaits further orders."

Saying this, Alpha-one placed himself in the 'show' position, kneeling with legs spread well apart, back straight, hands behind head and eyes lowered. After several seconds soaking in his display of submission, Mistress Qoshi rubbed Alpha-one's hair and then took a leash down from a nearby shelf and clipped it to his collar.

"Come with us to the bathroom slave. I want you to rub my shoulders whilst I bathe with my wife."

"Yes mistress."

Alpha-one followed on hands and knees through the quarters and into the bathroom, where his two current owners stripped down and climbed into the bath. They let their clothes fall where they may, trusting to the slave to pick them up and clean and fold them later. For the remainder of the evening, the two wives would remain naked. Not the nudity of an animal, like Alpha-one, but true nudity, a choice made freely to be completely unclothed.

"Bathe us, Alpha-one," said Mistress Tanaka.

Alpha-one began to soap and massage every inch of his mistresses' bodies. He used sponges and lotions to clean the sweat and grime of a day on the starship from their magnificent forms. Mistress Qoshi had Alpha-one slowly caress and massage her raw shoulders - no one could ever do this for her quite as well as a slavemale. It sat well with her that she and her wife were her slave's entire world, his only focus. Alpha-one had taken to their discipline well.

They had started their slave on a diet and exercise regime, and he was already beginning to turn into the lean, slim boy they desired. Mistress Qoshi brought her attention back to the bath and guided Alpha-one's hands down to her breasts, which she especially enjoyed having him massage. Alpha-one's cock began to grow in its cage, which was lined with tiny metal nodules that dug into his shaft and reminded him he was a slave. He spent several more minutes kneeling next to the bath whilst he washed his mistresses and helped them unwind from their long day.

"Slave," said Mistress Tanaka, "dry me."

Alpha-one took a large heated towel and, still kneeling, began to dry Mistress Tanaka's body from the toes up, as he had been taught. Wrapped in the warm embrace of the towel, Mistress Tanaka was content and happy. She caught the eye of her wife and smiled, then looked down affectionately at Alpha-one.

Remembering his place, the slave spoke "Your slave humbly requests permission to stand so that he may finish drying you, mistress."

"You may stand, slave. Good boy."

Alpha-one stood, towering over Mistress Tanaka by more than a foot, but nonetheless under no illusions about his inferiority. Next he repeated the process for Mistress Qoshi, who had Alpha-one spend a lot of time drying her vulva and her backside. She enjoyed the look of pain on Alpha-one's face as his cock cage dug in, and the look of helpless devotion that quickly replaced it.

Leading the boy back into the main living area, now once more on his hands and knees, Mistress Qoshi had Alpha-one stand and then prepare their evening meal and serve it. This was much better than eating in the mess hall with the rest of the crew - rank had its privileges. Both Mistresses fed Alpha-one a few little morsels from their plates as treats. He was not allowed to sit up on the furniture - slaves slept and sat on the floor - but took the food kneeling beside them as they held his leash. He was then given his food from a bowl on the floor.

After the meal, both mistresses retired to the sofa to watch some dramas and relax. Alpha-one was not permitted to watch, being made instead to offer footrubs from the floor. Sufficiently relaxed, Mistress Tanaka then had him serve as a footstool for an hour whilst the two women watched the last of their TV for that day. The part of the day that Alpha-one dreaded most was coming up.

His mistresses had explained to him that they were strict Disciplinarians. This was a belief system that a happy, useful slave required strict and regular discipline from a superior female. At the core of the belief system was the Daily Discipline. The slave was punished at least once daily. Specific punishments could be added for particular infractions, but slaves were given maintenance spankings even on days when their behaviour was without fault. Mistresses Tanaka and Qoshi saw this as a way to pre-empt any slippage in standards, making their household harmonious and without stress.

Mistress Tanaka spoke to her slave, "Alpha-one, you have behaved impeccably today. There will be no additional punishments for you. Come over my knee now and recite the First Cant of Discipline as you receive your maintenance spanking."

Alpha-one moved gracefully into position over his mistress's knees. Placing his hands together in front of him, Mistress Qoshi locked them together and held him in place.

Alpha-one began to speak, "Males are a raw element." smack!, smack! - Mistress Tanaka's hand landed on his bare buttocks.

"Males must be refined through discipline." smack!, smack!, smack! came the spanking in a steady rhythm.