Altered Genesis Ch. 11

6 months later.

Dean softly bit the end of his pen and stared at the page.

Question 60

Name the four most problematic remnants of patriarchy in today's society and how they are a danger.

Dean paused to think for a moment before writing the answer that he knew his professor wanted to hear.

- Faith in male deities. Such archaic religions are inherently violent and repressive.

- Male entitlement to the wealth and property of femme. Males use sex to manipulate and exploit.

- Femme are stigmatized for their appreciation of the male from. In a truly free society femme of all ages can objectify males without shame.

- Masculinist political action groups commit acts of terrorism in order to reverse moral progress. These groups are secretly backed by the conservative coalition.

He put his pen down gathered up his paper and pencil case.

"One hour remaining," announced the facilitator.

Dean got up in such a hurry that his chastity cage clattered against the edge of the desk. The sound of stainless steel on wood was unmistakable to him. He reassured himself that it was actually quite subtle and that nobody picked up on that detail. Besides, he was already late for work and didn't have time to think about it.

He approached the front of the room to deliver his papers to the facilitator.

"I know dear, it can be a lot of pressure," she soothed him in a motherly tone as she received the pages.

Dean smiled at the old lady.

"I answered all the questions. I'm done."

"Oh," she raised her eyebrows.

Her surprise only caused Dean's grin to grow. It felt good to counter the stereotype of the dumb stud who goes to college only to find a wife.

His final assessment was complete. But he didn't have time to bask in the wonderful feeling. He had to be in town in half an hour.

--

Dean smiled and shut his eyes as he felt the dark sensuality of the music move through him. After being in chastity all day it felt great to be free. He imagined that it was just him and the music as he leaned back on the pole and spun around in tempo with sensual music; his body obeying every beat. Opening his eyes, he smiled into the darkness. The room was filled with a vibrant hum and the occasional voice rose above the baseline.

"Come on, let mommy see the rest."

"Oh my Goddess. Your right Lena, this is much better than watching him in VR."

Dean looked towards the voices only to see pure black, the spotlight shone down from the ceiling, bathing him in heavenly light, rendering even the closest audience members invisible to him.

"Tell me you don't wanna just take him over your knee!" another voice said quietly.

"Hell yes. He looks like he's been a bad boy too," the reply could be heard just above the music.

"Here pup!" a confident voice beckoned from the other side of the stage.

An old lady's arm reached up into the beam of light from the darkness, holding a 100 credit bill between her wrinkled fingers. The face of President Eleanor Primrose was smiling up at him from the paper note.

Holding onto the pole, Dean squatted down and pointed his ass out invitingly. A moment later he felt the hand cop a greedy feel of his butt before placing the note into the waistband of his g-string.

"Thanks sugar mommy, I'll give you a private dance later tonight."

Just the touch of her hand was enough to set off Dean's submissive instincts. By now he was resigned to the fact that such a response was completely involuntary. His cock began to harden in its tight elastic pouch as if it wasn't even under his control.

"Oh did you hear that ladies!?" the a mature feminine voice of the announcer boomed over the intercom. Dean could hear the lust in her voice.

"Dean Johnson loves a good tipper. I wonder what a private dance from our pornstar would be like?"

This was all very routine, so Dean was unphased. He smiled into the blackness, the bright stage lights caused his golden body to glow, accentuating his muscle definition. His hips pulsed to the baseline of the pop song by a male artist.

Ever since I was born, I've been longing to serve you, to love you, to give it all to you.

"Hey boy! I'll give you five hundred for that pouch!"

Feminine cheers of support battered him from all directions, reminding Dean just how many eyes were actually on him.

"We came to see cock!" Another voice called out.

"Yeah! Come on baby! Stop being a tease!" one from his left yelled.

"Take it off!" a voice from his right yelled.

"Let's see the goods!" another demand came from the back of the room.

"This clit tease needs a thorough spanking to learn what 'Take it off' means," a lady near the front row spoke to her neighbours, causing them to chuckle.

A chill of fear entered him. It was becoming increasingly common for customers to want to administer discipline during lap dances. The domina didn't mind if her boys came out of the booth with a red hue, but sometimes the bouncers were much more permissive than Dean would like.

Whistles began echoing through the room.

The crowd were getting excited right on time. The music was building towards the big moment.

I'm begging please, I'm on my knees. I wanna worship you!

After a sudden pause, the beat dropped and Dean ripped his g-string pouch right off to booming cheers from all directions. He threw his garment of male abasement into the crowd, towards the voice that wanted it.

His cock was already rock hard and glistening. Silver tassels fell down from the piercing in his cock, accentuating his every movement. Excited cheers filled the room as he continued with his routine. All that was left on him was the thin blue elastic string holding his tips tightly around his waist.

--

Meanwhile.

Riya Patel didn't know what to do with her hands. She pretended to be fascinated by a straw as she stirred her drink with it. She couldn't ignore the feeling that was filling her. This was much more than nerves; it was a deep longing which she wished she could extinguish.

The famous 'Dean Johnson' was dancing in nothing but a tiny blue g-string only meters away. Just knowing that he was there sent a tingle through her hips. But she didn't want to be there. She believed that strip clubs and pornography were immoral and degrading to boys. She would never have imagined herself ever setting foot in such a perverse establishment. But after moving to America and starting a new job, she couldn't exactly skip her first monthly leadership meeting, even if it was being held at a club for ladies only.

"Show us the goods!" one of her colleagues projected her voice at Dean's heavenly visage.

Riya still couldn't let herself look.

She lifted the straw and dropped it back in her drink over and over again. The image of Dean's cock getting crushed by a merciless old pussy flashed into her mind again. Despite her best efforts, his audition video was burned into her memory. She had slipped up and watched the video one or two times, maybe several. She sighed and admitted to herself that she had been watching the video at least once a week these days.

"At least I stick to the free sample video and don't give those old perverted bigots my money!" She reassured herself.

Whenever she did watch porn, Dean was always one of her first choices. There was something so pure and special about him. His deep blue eyes and golden locks pressed all the right buttons. And his other features were just perfect. What were the chances that her favourite porn star would appear upon her first visit to a strip club? She didn't believe in the Goddess but it almost seemed like Dibella herself was tormenting her.

A wave of cheers and hollers moved through the room. Riya looked up to see the entire boardroom of her company enthralled by the on stage entertainment. Before she knew what was happening, her eyes were already cast upon Dean's glistening muscles. Lean masculine flesh flexed to the music. Every muscle was perfectly shaped without a trace of fat to be seen. Not a hair could be found on his perfect body. Everything about him was utterly captivating. Pleasure flowed through her body just from looking at him.

The music was reaching a climax as Dean's heavenly form swung on the pole. Then, with all eyes on him, he ripped away his tiny blue g-string pouch and flung it into the crowd as if he was being controlled by the music itself. A thick, long chunk of masculinity burst forth and pointed to the ceiling in eager submission. He was ready to serve a lady; and he sure knew how to do that. A silver tassel hung from his piercing on the tip as if it was a stream of precum. His balls were contained inside an elastic band that kept them looking, perky, big and blue. Riya could have sworn that his balls had gotten bigger since he filmed that audition video, and wondered if he had gotten implants or if he just hadn't been allowed to cum. She simply couldn't look away anymore.

As she shifted in her seat and uncrossed her legs, an unmistakable dampness became obvious to her. Her femininity was positively salivating over the thought of the much younger man. She crossed her legs again, still unable to take her eyes off him.

"Book a private session with Dean now ladies. Nothing gets him hard like a powerful and mature lady!" the announcer called out.

Dean smiled into the crowd shamelessly as ladies around the room cheered and whistled.

--

10 minutes later.

Dean stepped through the curtains and walked down the dark set of stairs to the change room. The thunderous applause from drunken revellers still sounded close. He felt an ache in his heavy balls, but he barely noticed that anymore. Something about the attention of the crowd and the lewd comments always made him very hard. His cock curved up to the ceiling and wiggled with each step, causing his penis jewellery to chime.

The most humiliating part was that it felt so good. The compliments and adulation genuinely raised his spirits. But they also activated something primal inside of him. A dark pleasure entered his veins as his cock presented itself for their viewing. It wanted to be ridden; used for the violent gratification of those faceless femme in the dark. Dean had been on the edge of coming for over 5 minutes now. He couldn't even remember what an orgasm felt like anymore, but he had never been so horny in his life.

"Up next we have and old crowd favourite. Gerard the gymnast!"

Applause began to pick up again. Gerard opened the door from inside the dressing room and hurried up past Dean. They exchanged a glance as they passed. Dean entered and was hit by the smell of body oil before he could close the door.

"Much better Dean."

He heard domina Lakshmi before he saw her.

"You were smiling much more tonight! And you made a good haul too. It really suits you to smile more. I want to see more of the same tomorrow night."

"Thanks domina," Dean couldn't help but grin.

She turned to the half dozen boys who were squeezing into tiny elastic g-string pouches and various decorative cock rings.

"Hurry up boys. The corporate room is open already so ladies will be moving in there now. Meg wants the show to start in under two minutes! They book their meetings with us every month, so you need to be extra polite and accommodating."

The boys responded with increased urgency.

"Remember. I wanna see loose hips and stiff dicks!"

She clapped her hands twice and the boys hurried to door that led to the VIP rooms.

Domina Lakshmi was already placing a hand on Dean's butt before he could even make it to his locker.

"You're in booth 8 for private dances honey. And you're already booked out until 1," she said while standing a little closer than she needed to as she collected the tips from his waistband.

He looked up at her to find her staring at his hard cock as she spoke.

Dean sighed.

"Just once, I'd like to finish on time," he moaned.

Domina Lakshmi started putting a leather choker around his neck. Letting the customers hold the leash was good for tips so Dean didn't mind. His entire earnings came from his cut.

"It's the cost of fame my dear. Just think of the extra tips," she soothed him with her most motherly tone. Her Indian accent and rich mature voice made him feel safe somehow.

"Please tell Tina no paddles tonight. Last night was really bad."

"Of course, my biggest earners get the best care. Agree to start doing hens nights and I'll have a word with her."

"Never mind," he said while looking at his feet.

"And remember that oral is 200 credits tonight," she said.

"What?!"

"It's the new Friday night promo darling."

Dean turned and shook his head.

"I need you to do some clean-up in VIP room 3 before you start at your booth sweetie. Robbie and Phil have their hands full."

"Right away domina," he said while rummaging through his locker for a waiter outfit.

Walking amongst the customers with his erection wobbling around was against policy.

"I don't give freebies. Always keep them wanting more," domina Lakshmi would say.

He winced as he stretched his cock ring and took it off. The skin around the base of his cock and balls was red and sore from spending hours wearing one every evening. After applying some lotion to his suffering skin, he grabbed an ice pack from the cooler in the middle of the room, sat down and applied it to his erection with a grimace.

"You need to hurry up and squeeze into your uniform. And don't forget your ring, you'll be going straight to your booth after VIP room 3. I'll leave you be so you can get soft again," she smirked.

She turned for the exit, leaving Dean alone with his thoughts. He hated how the domina would just presume that the boys would get hard for her. Most of all because it wasn't entirely untrue. He could feel his cock react to her presence, despite her being three times his age and of no romantic interest. There was just something about being naked in front of a lady as famous and powerful as lady Lakshmi, it seemed to make Dean feel vulnerable and self conscious. His cock would firm up a little bit, as if confessing its desire to submit. Each time it happened was another stinging reminder of the inferiority of his gender. He'd noticed that he wasn't the only boy to have this reaction, but the others never spoke of it.

After a few minutes on ice, Dean was able squeeze his semi-erect cock back into the cock ring and into the pouch of a tiny elastic g-string. The garment was more of a decoration than anything. The waistband would almost fit in his palm and the genital pouch would appear only large enough to contain a golf ball. The one mercy was that, once he was squeezed inside, the elastic was stretched so tight that it wouldn't allow an erection. He put his tight sleeveless shirt on and adjusted his choker so that the O-ring was facing the front. Finally, he put on his loin cloth. It was made of very thin material with the words 'Lakshmi's Palace' printed on the front and 'live like a queen' on the back in gold lettering. Two small golden bells were attached to the front and back corners of the material, each producing a soft chime each time a boy took a step or an unfortunate gust of wind blew the material around. Domina Lakshmi's creative "boy outfits" where one of the major trademarks of the establishment.

He left the change rooms and made his way through the kitchen.

"Order up for table 2 room 4. It's been up here for 3 minutes Karl!" lady Gretchenmire, the head chef, was grouchy and anxious as usual.

"Goddess another well-done T-bone! I'm going to scream!" another one of the cooks said. Dean didn't recognize her voice, and assumed that she was new.

He picked up a wash cloth and bus tub and pushed through the door into a dimly lit hallway. The carpet had a chequered pattern of gold and black and the walls were black with intricately carved cornices. The soft yellow light concealed the fact that the cornices were plastic that had been spray-painted gold to give the illusion of opulence. Dean thought it was tacky but the clientele seemed to find it novel.

The chaotic sounds of the kitchen gave way to the distant sound of a Dibellan hymn that immediately gave him butterflies. It was a song that once reminded him of his childhood but now filled him with fear.

"Oh boy. Another coven hens night," Dean thought.

He paused for a moment and prayed that the sound wasn't coming from room 3. Was he praying to Dibella? Some other deity? Or even himself? He didn't know.

As Dean moved past room 5 the hum got louder. Then he passed Karl who was balancing three meals on his tray and carrying a forth in his other hand. Soft classical music wafted into the hallway as Karl pushed the door to room 4 open.

Dean swallowed hard.

From the baseline and muffled melody, the words emerged in his mind on their own.

And the Goddess loves us as her own

We are daughters, filled with her blessings

Just as She has, we take up our throne

Dean's own thoughts seemed to come to life as he gently pushed through the door and entered VIP room 3. The room was filled with ladies signing along to a recording of the hymn. They were standing in a disorderly circle, some we're still sitting in their seats but all were facing the same direction. This was definitely a hens night.

Dean looked around the room for Phil or Robbie but they were nowhere to be seen and the place was a pigsty.

For she commands the waves and sky

And all creation down below

The head of the house shall never die

And her name shall live forever

Dean swallowed hard and approached the nearest empty table. The safety of the stage was gone now; he felt tiny in that room full of femme. He was shorter than every single lady in the room, most of whom wore some type of long gown that touched the floor. Long sleeves and high necklines were also the fashion especially in the sisterhood of Dibella.

Almost every lady was overweight with grey or white hair but he did notice the occasional femme in her late 30s early 40s. Not that there weren't young members of the sisterhood, they just couldn't afford to chip in for a hens night package at Lakshmi's Palace. His chest tightened. Post menopausal femme had a tendency to get out of control, particularly on a hens night.

Then Dean heard something that quickened his heart.

Whack!

"Oohh!"

Doing his best to go unnoticed, he put his tub on a chair and started loading plates into it as quietly as he could. He shifted party bags out of the way and noticed that they each contained a dildo with the 'Supreme Sisters' logo on them. He didn't even know that they did merchandise.

Whack!

"Ah! Thank you madam!"

This wrestled Dean's attention away from the task. As he looked up he could see clearly over the large round table and through the crowd to find a fat old lady in a long black dress with long sleeves sitting on a chair in the centre of the circle. She was holding a paddle high in the air with her right hand, it had the words, 'Judy Covenshire' engraved on its face. Her left hand held two leashes in its fist as it rested on the small of Robbie's back.

Robbie was lying across her lap with his hands on the floor. His butt was already a deep red going on purple. The leash attached to his choker coiled on the floor and was firmly held by the ugly old crone.

Phil was shamelessly showing his purple backside to the audience as he knelt and kissed the madam's feet. Dean thought he saw something written on him so her returned his gaze for a moment. In a slightly deeper shade, his butt showed the imprint of the madam's paddle and read 'Judy Covenshire'. His leash was also held by the lady of honour.

As the crowd returned to the chorus she lowered the paddle onto the firm young backside with a joyful smile. Camera flashes went off.