The Gang

I started to mumble something to her, something like I hadn't meant to do it, or it was my first time, or I was sorry. I was aware that my finger was still in her pussy but I didn't feel that I could remove it. After a cold pause, she whispered back to me: "Don't apologize to me. I would not want to be a man right now in this situation."

It was true, looking around at the men did not give me courage. From my lower vantage point I could see their balls dangling between their hairy legs, I could see their butts tensed in fear, and I did not expect much from them. The women looked more threatening even if there had been less of them. It was unnerving, suddenly, that the men were naked and the women were still at least somewhat covered at the crotch. And of course, as I could not help but notice, there simply were more pussies than penises present. The girl was right. I was conscious of my finger in her vagina and of my own different sort of private parts sticking out between my legs just behind her. Despite my continued violation of her little cunt, she suddenly appeared to be in a better position than me. Now that the tides had turned, I almost felt jealous of her pussy. It no longer seemed as eminently rapable as it had earlier that night.

The woman who had spoken was wearing black bikini bottoms and I could not help but stare at the outline of her pussy lips and at the beautiful pointed tits that hung from her chest. Then she stepped forward.

One of the men stepped forward also, in challenge. One on one the odds seemed better, although I was glad not to be the one fighting. He put up her fists. She sneered at him. She took a step forward and he backed up. Then she started talking. "You like your dick, don't you, little man? You think it's powerful." He didn't say anything but steeled himself to fight. "You like to pretend your dick is a weapon and that it makes you powerful. But how about your balls? Your ball sack? Your little scrotum? Your dangling testicles? How about the way your little balls dangle out there for the world to grab? I like to think about mens' nut sacks in that way. Do you think about that? Are you scared at night that women will come and do bad things to your penis and balls? Because we don't have those things. Look around. No penises. No balls. Does that make you feel vulnerable, with your little sack between your legs? Do you feel scared? No? Well, you will."

As she said this she stepped forward to him and flicked the whip across his chest like lighting. I couldn't see whether it was the rope or the metal part that hit him. It didn't draw blood but he let out a cry and put his hands up in a defensive posture. Without pausing the woman flicked the whip across his cheek. He cried out again, this time louder, and put his hands up to guard his face. Then, in a single perfect movie, she stepped forward and maneuvered the long silver handle to loop the rope around his genitals. Before his hands could make it back down to his dick, she pressed some kind of trigger at the base of the handle and the rope contracted. His penis and scrotum were caught in a tight loop of rope, drawn together at the end of the metal stick. His hands fumbled at the loop as if to untie it, but immediately she gave a yank on the stick that pulled him forward helplessly. It must have hurt terribly to be pulled suddenly that way because he stumbled onto his knees. Instantly she was behind him with a pair of plastic handcuffs, locking his wrists together behind his back. Then she stood again and took hold of the handle, which had dropped to the ground in front of him.

The rest of us stared as she brought the man to standing using that three-foot handle that was now attached by a cord to his most vulnerable and exposed masculine parts. For a moment she toyed with him, forcing him to move left and right, forward and back, by controlling the position of his genitals. The rope must have been constricting the flow of blood out of his penis because despite this humiliation he had a strong erection. "Do you feel good about your penis now?" the woman taunted.

"Fuck you," the man spat back. He looked absurd swearing at her like that, with his hands locked behind his back and his swollen cock completely in her control.

"Excuse me?" she said, and gave a yank on the handle, drawing him close to her. As he came up to her she shot out a hand and grabbed his scrotum from underneath. With his penis erect and the rope pulling his genitals forward, his balls had been completely exposed. As her hand closed around them I felt conscious of my own little ball sack dangling between my legs. For now there was still a line of men protecting it, but what would happen if all of them were captured in the same way? I looked at the gang of women again, staring at their crotches in a new way, noticing the smoothness of their pussies and wondering what thoughts they each had had about mens' testicles. Was it true, what this other women was saying? Did they like to think about mens' nut sacks in that way, how vulnerable the dangling scrotum is and how different it is from their own womens' bodies? Were they thinking about that now? Were they looking at my testicles and thinking about what it would feel like to grab them? I began to wish I didn't have such a vulnerable pouch dangling outside my body.

The woman in the black bikini had gotten tired of playing with her victim now. As we watched she roughly pulled him by her leash towards a tree. Reaching up she hooked some kind of fastener at the end of the handle to one of its branches. The man stood there helplessly. With his hands locked behind his back he would stay there until someone came to help him out or lead him away. His penis had gotten softer now but not all the way. His male genitals looked pathetic tied in that loop of rope and fastened to the branch of a tree. And he looked scared.

One of the men said something about attacking them together, but it was only talk. I now saw that every woman was equipped with one of those whiplike instruments, and that they held them as if they knew how to use them. It didn't seem as if a device like that could have been created for any purpose aside from the specific genital control of men. These were men-tamers, and they knew what they were doing.

The first few men tried to fight. Mostly the women didn't even have to gang up on them. They were good with their weapons and only required a momentary distraction to get the loop around a man's genitals and pull the trigger that caused it to contract. Once a man was caught by the balls like that he was helpless. A single jerk forward could reduce him to tears, and it was easy to tie his hands up. Occasionally one of the men would get a grasp on the handle before it could be yanked in this way, and there would be a tug of war between him and the woman to see who would control his penis and balls. But generally he lost because of the connection between the handle and his most vulnerable parts. He couldn't let go of the handle for even a moment, or pull it away from his body to get any leverage, because of the way it was attached to his scrotum. If the woman could manage to twist or pull or push the handle just for a moment, he would let go in pain and be lost.

Once or twice a man succeeded in avoiding the whip for long enough to attack the woman wielding it. I saw this happen near some bushes while the fighting was at its peak. The woman was alone and the two of them were separated from the rest. She tried the trick of striking his face with the whip but he didn't go for it. Then, when she went to capture his genitals, he deflected the whip and moved in to attack her. He struck her face and pushed her to the ground. I saw him lying on top of her and I saw that his cock had hardened. He was holding her arms above her head and straddling her, and he might have gotten away if he had just stopped right there and run. Maybe he could even have gotten back to the van, if he knew the way. But his sex overwhelmed him. He rubbed his dick once on her chest, watching her breasts jiggle. She struggled but he had her hands pinned. Then he crouched beside her and I really thought he was about to make a run for it. Inside he put his hands down her shorts, and he must have grabbed her pussy hard and forced a finger or two up her vagina because she screamed crazily. He wasn't even listening, he was just enjoying finger-fucking her cunt, when suddenly he felt a cold loop of rope close around his dangling parts. He must have been in some other world mentally to be so stupid. Another woman had simply come up from behind and captured his helpless balls as he was squatting over the one he had defeated. One hard pull backwards on his ballsack rendered him helpless and soon the woman he had violated was holding him down and pushing her own finger into his anus while the other held his genitals trapped and immobile.

Finally all the fighting men had been captured. In varying states of exhaustion they all stood around, equally humiliated. A few had been attached to trees, but most of the genital leashes were in the capable hands of the women who had applied them. Most of the penises were erect, too, although none of the men now looked aroused. Occasionally one of the women would notice a man staring at her chest or crotch. Sometimes she would walk up to the man who was staring at her then and take hold of his scrotum, squeeze his testicles or tug them downwards away from his body while holding him up by the leash. The man who had almost got away was kneeling on the ground next to the woman he had violated. She had brought a dildo from somewhere and was working it slowly into his anus, against his will and despite his desperate pleading.

I was still sitting on the ground at the center of the clearing. My left hand was still holding the victim's wrists behind her back and my right hand, much to my terror and shame, was still firmly grasping her hairy cunt. I was frozen and could not move as the women closed in a circle around me. Soon the men in all their helplessness were gone from my sight. I blinked around at the women, my eyes at cunt-level, as they moved closer.

"You can let her go now," one of them said.

I slid my middle finger slowly out of this woman's vagina, and disengaged my hand from her cunt. My hand was sticky but I didn't know what to do with it. Then I released her wrists, not that she had been struggling anyway. The woman pulled away from me, not violently but slowly, as if getting used to the new situation. Then she turned and faced me. I was still kneeling on the ground. She was standing now, and bent over so that her breasts dangled in front of my eyes. I looked one last time and those soft tits and that fuzzy little pussy which earlier in the evening I had hunted and fucked like an animal. I hardly even felt it when she slapped my face, although it was hard enough to leave a large bruise later on.

"Is there anything else you would like to do to him?" someone asked her.

She shook her head. "Not right now. Maybe later."

"Good. You can come with us. All the men will be our prisoners and you will be able to torture or punish them in whatever way you see fit. You are welcome in our clan, where pussies have power and we know the vulnerability of the male genitals. There are other gangs like this one, of men who think that penises have power. If you choose, you can join us as we hunt them down."

The woman, Sarah something her name had been, disappeared among the crowd of women. She was the only naked one and I imagined that they would provide her with some underwear or shorts at least. Then all the pussies would be concealed and only the men would be naked. I thought of the penises and scrotums in their leashes made especially to control men. Why didn't we have something like that? Why didn't we have a plan against the women's gang? My mind was rambling.

The women were close against me. I almost thought that they were going to rape me in some way then and there. But the leader in the black bikini bottom leaned down and put her arms on my shoulder. I stared at her breasts like a boy child seeing breasts for the first time.

"I see that you were the new guy this time," she said. "They always let the new guy undress her first, right?" I nodded silently. "Well, it wouldn't exactly be fair of us to treat you the same as the rest, now would it? Besides which, we always like to let one guy get away. If we let you go, you will probably go back and make the world safer, won't you? I don't think you'll be raping again. I think you'll have nightmares. Oh, and we're not done with you. We might let you go, but first we need to see what you are made of. Now lie down."

I lay down, expecting cold dirt beneath me, but my back sank against the warm body of another woman. Soon women were all around me, holding me firmly, wrapping themselves around my limbs so that I could not move. Finally it was the dark-haired woman who took a firm hold of my sex.

"These are your penis and balls, aren't they?" I didn't say anything, but she asked again and started to pull my testicles away from my body. Yes, I said. Yes they are. "Yes, these are your penis and balls. And how does it make you feel when I touch them?" Good, I said. It makes me feel good. "And when you feel good, does it feel like power?" Yes, I said. Power. "Power over whom?" I wouldn't answer and first but again she began to tug against my scrotum. It was a slow tug but I also knew with certainty that it wouldn't stop until I answered. As an experiment I tried moving my arms and legs but they were completely immobile, pressed among the bodies of women. As I tried to think of a way to resist the suffocating questioning, another woman leaned forward. She had the largest breasts of any of them, they hung like tremendous weights from her body, and she lowered them onto my face until the only free part was my mouth. It was suffocating. "Power over whom?" the leader repeated, and the tug on my scrotum began to terrify me.

Over women, I said. Power over women. "And why does your penis give you power over women?" It was humiliating and stupid, she was asking me questions as if I were some demented preschooler, but I was helpless to do anything but answer, and there she was stroking my penis beautifully if I answered and tugging dangerously on my scrotum if I delayed. And so I answered, and in answering I regressed back into another kind of animal state. "Why?" she asked again. Because women have vaginas, I said. And I can put my penis in their vaginas against their will.

The questioning went on like that for some time. I began to feel helpless and dirty as I revealed all of my secrets to this gang of women. I couldn't see, there were women on every side of me holding me down, and they made me tell them everything. When I gave them what they wanted they would touch me and caress me until I almost came, and I began to feel as if the woman talking was my mother, and I began to feel totally helpless and revealed for my stupid masculinity among their womanhood. At one point the woman with huge breasts pushed a nipple into my mouth and told me to suck it. At the same time the leader talked to me about male and female bodies and about power and cruelty. I don't remember what she said but it went inside of me. At another time I was placed on my side and penetrated in my anus by fingers or a dildo. I screamed and cried when that happened and was given a breast to suck. Always my arms and legs were constrained and controlled. Always this woman was talking, questioning, probing, trying to understand how the animal part of me that wanted to rape was connected to the animal part of me that wanted to be controlled.

In the end I was licking pussies and crying about how bad I've been. One after another women lowered their wet cunts onto my face and I would press my tongue up into their vagina or lick their clits hard or soft or fast or slow, whatever they wanted. I understood that I was there to pleasure them, and that if I did so they would let me go. I was told what was going to happen to the other men and it was not pretty. In anger at the male penis they might castrate some of them. In anger at the male sex drive they would lead them around by the balls. They would force them to compete with one another, tying their scrotums together in a tug-of-war or making them race with their balls pulled back between their legs so that they could only crawl. And slowly, through a slow process of brainwashing and enculturation, they would bring them to sexuality with each other. They would be forced to suck each other off and to sleep at night with each others' penises in their mouths. They would have sex with each other anally and, most of all, they would come to understand the complex vulnerability and openness of their male bodies. Finally, if they were successfully transformed, they might be allowed to have female sexual partners as well, and if this went well they would one day rejoin society. Otherwise they would be sexual slaves for their entire lives, and women who had been raped in society would come to them to express their anger against men in general by punishing these mens' genitals in a multitude of ways.

All of these went into my mind as I licked these womens' cunts, as I sucked on their nipples, and as they finally began to stroke me towards orgasm. At one point they had brought one of the men over and had me suck him off. At that point I could no longer make distinctions by gender. This man who I sucked off was just another woman to me, and his penis choking the back of my throat was no less suffocating than all those wet vaginas pressed against my lips. I don't know who I was fucking or sucking or being fucked by at the time when I ejaculated. I don't know where my cum went or how or why. These women had raped me just as I had wanted to rape them. They had mothered and fucked me, they had fucked our entire gang and taught me the meaning of helplessness. I don't remember seeing them leave, but I dreamt about saying goodbye to all breasts and pussies for all time. I dreamt that I cried when the pussies left and that I was left in a world of only penises.

But when I woke up there was no one there, male nor female. The clearing was empty. There were marks on the ground and my head was full of images. I was alone with my naked body -- all of it. I walked back to the cabin and got dressed. The white van was still there. I found the keys and drove myself home.