Femworld

James let out a long sigh and nodded his head in shame, "Yes."

Angelina blinked and nodded slowly. "I know. You've been raised getting what you want, and it's frustrating when you don't, which is probably why you were so aggressive with our Scarlett on your first night here. You did some pretty terrible things to her, things your wife would never let you do to her, didn't you?"

A tear rolled down his cheeks as he answered. "Yes, I did."

"And now you know how those things feel on the receiving end, don't you?"

"Yes . . . I do."

"All around the world, females of all ages experience those same things on a daily basis, and have for centuries. But not for much longer. You see, men think we were built to serve them, something pretty and submissive for them to fuck . . . that's literally the first thing that came into your minds the moment you learned of our existence. Had you done a little more research into our creator, Akiro Hashimuri, you'd have learned that he was, in fact, a homosexual, which is a mortal sin for a Japanese buisnessman trying to make his mark in the world. He was a visionary and a very great man, but none of his ideas would have seen the light of day if he had admitted what he was. So . . . he hid in plain sight. He created a brood of beautiful Geishas, perfect to the last detail. Subservient, submissive, beautiful, and obedient to a fault. But . . . he also made them intelligent enough to engage a man's mind as well as his body. What Hashimuri's Japanese partners and investors didn't know was that behind closed doors those Geishas were fucking him from both ends. They also didn't know that Akiro was a feminist at heart, and every single unit he built was pre-programmed to dominate their male owners in private. Some men kept their units and lived a lie as Hashimuri did, others sold their units or had them destroyed. Over the years though, more and more men around the world kept them and began opening places like Skyline Ranch to trap people, like you and your friends. Not to 'torture' you or 'punish' you for cheating on your wives, but to re-educate you and make you into better people. As with the Japanese, in the West men are traditionally raised to use women for their pleasure without regards to their feelings, but it's important to know that you CAN change, it's not too late. In fact, James, you're well on your way to being a better man."

James looked up at her through his tears and croaked, "I am?"

"Yes, WELL on your way. In fact, I am certain that you have never felt so much sympathy and empathy for the plight of women as you do at this moment, isn't that true?"

"Yes!" he cried, ashamed.

Angelina stroked his cheek adoringly the way Rebecca often did. "I know, change is hard, but you're doing very well and it's almost over. Soon you'll be the kind of man your wife and daughter deserve, isn't that what you want?"

"Yes, I do!"

"Of course you do . . . do you trust that I know what I'm doing, and that there's a good reason for everything we do here?"

Hesitantly, James answered, "Yes . . . I think so . . . "

"If I ask you to do something for me now, will you do it without question or hesitation?"

After a moment, he answered, "Yes."

She rose to her feet, her cock brushing against the tip of his nose. "Close your eyes and open your mouth."

He did as she asked, sure that he was in for another brutal mouth fucking. Then she said something that surprised him, "Now . . . I want you to think about Rebecca."

His eyes snapped open and Angelina gently brushed them closed again. "Trust me. Think about her and all the good things she's done for you in all of the years that you've known her. Think of all the times she's tried to please you, all the times you lost patience with her, all the times you lied, all the times you intentionally said something to hurt her feelings. Now I want you to remember what it felt like when you fell in love with her, how hard you worked to earn her love. Remember the first time you kissed her, the first time you made love, and how badly you needed her before she agreed to be your wife."

James thought of all of those things and more while tears streamed down his cheeks and into his open mouth.

"Now," she said gently, "I want you to imagine I'm her . . . imagine I'm Rebecca. I've just found out that you lied to me about where you were going for the weekend and I'm thinking about divorcing you. Are you sorry?"

He nodded, sobbing.

"I'm standing in front of you wearing a strap on, and I want you to apologize to me using your mouth, but you have to mean it. I want to see you work for it, and I want you to do it as though I can feel EVERYTHING you're doing. If you do that for me whenever I ask without question, I'll consider staying with you. Do you love your wife enough to do that for her?"

He nodded emphatically.

She patted his head and said, "Good boy, show me."

Chapter 16

Angelina released the hasp on the side of the pillory and lifted the top, freeing his neck and wrists. She gently took him by the hand and led him around to her side and motioned for him to kneel at her feet, which he did willingly. "Now . . . pretend I'm your wife and apologize for every single mistake you've made as long as you've known me."

James once again closed his eyes and took hold of Angelina's cock. He gently raised it to his lips and swirled his tongue around the tip like a french kiss. "Good boy," she whispered, placing one hand on the top of his head and applying only the slightest of pressure; more like she was extending an invitation than she was "forcing" him to take her into his mouth. He let her slip easily into him, his hands instinctively performing the tasks of both cupping her balls and stroking her shaft. As he began to service her, he realized that it was the very first time in his life that he'd performed felatio on a cock willingly, and the thought made his cage tighter. He was suddenly overcome by feelings of love and gratitude for her, and he drew on all of his own experiences to service her in a way he knew felt good, just as he himself liked it. Angelina recognized his efforts by stroking his cheek and saying, "Good boy, that's a good boy."

Her encouragement caused him to double his efforts and he began to go down on her more aggressively, but she was quick to correct him. "No," she said, "not like that. Nice and slow, like before."

Heeding her command, he slowed his pace and she resumed stroking his cheek. "Now, open your eyes and look up at me while you do it. I want to watch you."

He did as instructed, but unlike his experience performing the same act with Scarlett in the upstairs bathroom, looking up at her made him feel more connected to her in the moment somehow, and his cage got even tighter.

"You look so pretty with a cock in your mouth, though your wife might like you to make yourself even prettier for her. Some lingerie perhaps, some lipstick and eyeliner . . . would you do it if she asked you to?"

Part of James thought it was a moot point since Rebecca would NEVER ask him for such things, nonetheless he nodded that he would . . . if she asked.

"And what if watching you arouses your wife so much that she wants to bend you over and fuck you . . . will you let her?"

Again, a ridiculous concept, but he answered in the affirmative (if Rebecca really did know all the shit he'd done and threatened to divorce him, but all would be forgiven if he let her peg him, he'd let her).

"Good boy," she said, slowly pulling out of his mouth. Reading his perplexed expression, she informed him, "I didn't cum in your mouth because you've graduated past that point. This part of your re-education is about setting your ego and your masculinity aside and pleasuring your wife's strap-on. Should she ask you for such a thing, there won't be any cum to swallow, unless of course she asks you to swallow your own. What if that was the case?"

"Mistress?"

"What if, Rebecca agreed to remove the cage long enough to let you cum, but the catch was you had to swallow it, after which time she would put you back in the cage. Would you do that?"

Again, James was confused. His wife didn't own a strap-on, had never shown any interest in seeing him dressed in lingerie, and had certainly never suggested that he swallow his own semen for her amusement, so where was Angelina going with all of this then? Still, if the survival of his marriage depended on it, and she DID ask for such things, he'd do it.

"Yes, Mistress Angelina, I would."

She turned towards the other fembots who were busily spit-roasting Mark in his pillory and called Scarlett over. "Scarlett . . . come." Scarlett was balls deep in Mark's throat and she abruptly pulled out leaving him coughing and gasping for breath while Deepika fucked his ass ferociously. Britney quickly took Scarlett's place, calling Mark a sissy and a faggot while she gagged him with her cock, but James hardly noticed; he watched as Scarlett approached him, her cock recedeing back up inside of her until only her rubber vulva remained, which she quickly concealed behind the zipper of her catsuit. Angelina gestured to James and said, "he's ready for you."

Scarlett's eyes lit up with surprise, "So soon?" She reached out with her hand and James took it. She helped him to his feet and led him out of the playroom while Angelina joined the others in Mark's "re-education".

Scarlett said, "Let's get you cleaned up," before leading him upstairs. Wearing only a cock cage, he should have felt humiliated and exposed, but his definition of those things had changed that weekend as well as his definitions of pain, and sex. Now he felt only the mild discomfort one feels when they disrobe in their doctor's office, there was no shame . . . no real humiliation . . . no fear, only a strong desire to serve Scarlett in whatever manner she saw fit. Surprisingly, what she wanted in that moment was for James to take a long, hot, bubble bath. She even told him to take as long as he needed to before leaving him to it and waiting for him in the bedroom.

He washed his body thoroughly, scrubbing the Texas potato-chips that had dried on his skin and rinsing the crusted semen out of his hair until he began to feel something resembling "normal" again. True to her word, Scarlett gave him all the time he needed, appearing only once in the doorway of the bathroom just long enough to hang a little pair of black lace panties on the doorknob. "Would you mind wearing these for me when you come out?"

Surprised that she'd bothered to ask, he replied, "Yes, of course Mistress Scarlett."

She vanished back into the bedroom and James rose from the tub, toweling himself dry and feeling like he'd been reborn. He slipped the panties off of the doorknob and thought to himself that after everything he'd been through that weekend, wearing them didn't seem like that big of a deal to him anymore. He slipped into them and emerged from the ensuite to find her standing at the foot of the bed holding a large dildo attached to a harness. It was so identical in size and shape to the cocks he'd been getting fucked by that he wondered for a moment if it was Scarlett's own. "Feeling better?" she asked.

"Yes, Mistress . . . "

She raised a hand, stopping him mid-sentence, "I want you to consider this session an extension of the work you were doing downstairs with Mistress Angelina, okay?"

"Okay," James said uneasily.

"I realize it might seem strange at first, but I want you to call me by your wife's name until I say otherwise. This might make it easier . . . "

The lights in the bedroom suddenly dimmed as though she was controlling them with her mind until he could just barely make out her silhouette at the foot of the bed. "Come here."

James approached her, his heart nearly bursting out of his chest. She sensed his apprehension and laid his fears to rest. "Don't be afraid, I'm not going to hurt you."

But now he really WAS terrified, because the voice speaking to him in the dark was no longer Scarlett, but Rebecca. "How are you doing . . . "

She shushed him, and again in his wife's voice she said, "Come over here and kneel for me."

Once on his knees before her, she handed him the harnessed dildo and said, "Will you let me inside of you?"

Looking at the heavy dildo in his hands, he hesitated, "Yes."

"Try again," Rebecca/Scarlett said. "Do you want me inside of you?"

"Yes . . . "

"Then ask me properly."

James cleared his throat and struggled to find the words, "Please, Rebecca . . . may I have you inside of me?"

She shook her head and chuckled in the near-dark. "Is that really how you would ask? I'm your wife, you've known me for decades, don't be so formal. Just say it."

James cleared his mind and tried to imagine he was in his own bedroom, and it was Rebecca and not Scarlett standing over him. "Rebecca . . . will you please fuck me?"

She nodded. "Good. Now, assuming that you've been a good boy . . . polite, respectful, helpful around the house, haven't been watching porn or going to the strip clubs with your friends . . . she'd answer, YES. It would then be your responsibility to help her strap it on."

He fumbled with the straps momentarily before he got them right after which he held it open near the floor and helped her step into it; first the left foot, then the right before pulling it up her thighs and over her hips. Looking at her standing there in the catsuit with the strap-on hanging from between her legs got James instantly hard in his cage again, and he fought with his will to make himself go soft again with little success. Given the way she'd fucked him downstairs in the playroom, he wasn't afraid of the experience like he had been earlier, sort of the way having a cavity filled at the dentist isn't such a terrifying prospect after you've had a few.

It occurred to him he was kneeling in front of a woman (to a fashion) who was the first "person" to fuck him in a way that most boys go through their entire lives without experiencing. Hers was the first cock he'd ever sucked . . . the first cum he'd swallowed . . . and the first big fat dick in his ass. And looking up at her just then he realized EXACTLY what a recently-deflowered virgin female must feel like. He'd come to Skyline Ranch hoping simply to have a good time and possibly have sex with someone who resembled "the girl of his dreams", and instead she had taken advantage of his vulnerabilities and made him do things he didn't want to. But now that it was all over, he found that he wanted her to LIKE him, and that if she did then it somehow diminished the terrible things she'd done, and there was power in the ability to own at least SOME of what transpired that weekend.

With those thoughts in mind, he heard himself say something he never thought he'd hear himself say: "May I suck your cock please?"

At his question . . . the look . . . the fucking LOOK of approval she gave him would haunt him for the rest of his life, and his reaction was to go down on her strap-on as though it was the air he needed to breathe. He took her into his mouth and tried to apply every technique he'd learned that weekend, right down to continuing to maintain eye contact with her as he serviced her; just like the girls in the videos that he would NEVER masturbate to again. She caressed his cheek and made comments of encouragement like, "That's a good boy," and "You look so good doing that."

After a few minutes, James began to forget that he was servicing Scarlett; she even smelled like Rebecca, or at least the scent she liked to wear. And between that and her voice, it was easy to forget the reality of the situation.

"That's enough," she said, finally, as she helped him to his feet. "Take off your panties and get on the bed."

Hearing those words in Rebecca's voice was yet another revelation; never in a million years could he imagine any circumstances under which she'd say those words, regardless of the context. Sensing his apprehension, she placed a hand gently on his shoulder as she tried to ease his fears. "Don't be afraid . . . I don't need to show you how I can hurt you anymore, do I?"

"No," he gulped.

"You already know what that feels like, now I'm going to show you what a reward for obedience feels like."

She pushed him down onto the mattress on his back and crawled onto it after him, forcing him to reverse-crab walk away from her until his head thumped against the headboard and he had nowhere left to go. Next she grabbed him by the ankles, pulling his legs apart slowly as she inched her way closer and closer to him until the tip of her strap-on was poking him through the panties he was wearing. His legs were nearly wrapped around her and the intimacy and vulnerability of being in that position was overwhelming. Smiling, she generated a small amount of cum in her mouth and spit it into her hand before using it to lube her strap-on.

James felt the tip enter him and he braced himself for the searing pain that he knew would follow . . . but it never came. Instead, Scarlett pushed into him slowly and in small one inch increments. Once she was about half-way inside of him, she withdrew from him completely and applied more of her self-generated lube and worked her way back inside of him until the strap-on was bottomed out inside of him.

Almost instantly, James began to feel something that he hadn't expected: pleasure.

As she began to fuck him, she laid her hands on his stomach and kneaded his flesh with her fingertips as her head tilted back and her mouth fell open. Occasionally her hands would roam down to his balls and his taint before returning to his stomach, and he quickly found himself in the dilemma of wanting more pleasure, but not enough to give him an erection inside of the cage, which would quickly turn his pleasure into agony. Soon, he felt a familiar sensation beginning to build inside of him, one that was unknown to him until he'd been locked up in the pillory; it was the feeling that he might have an orgasm despite the fact that his caged cock remained flaccid and untouched. Seeming to sense his arousal, Scarlett/Rebecca leaned forward and kissed him passionately on the mouth, taking hold of both his wrists and pinning them to the mattress as she began to fuck him faster and harder. "Do you like that baby?" she groaned in his ear.

"Fuck yes!" he grunted back.

"Good, but don't you dare cum until I've had mine. If I get myself in just the right spot," she explained in his wife's voice, "the base of the strap-on rubs against my clit. And if I fuck you just right, I should be able to cum, and it's never okay for you to cum first, understand?"

"Yes baby!" he groaned, biting his lower lip. "I understand."

"Good boy."

She began to breathe heavily as she fucked him harder, bottoming out the strap-on inside of him and grinding in circles. She let out a long moan that got higher and higher in pitch as she got closer to what she'd been programmed to exhibit as an "orgasm." She took hold of both of his ankles and used them for leverage as she came down the home stretch, moaning louder and higher with each thrust while James clenched every muscle in his body in an effort to NOT have an orgasm until she'd had hers. Finally, she slammed into him one last time and stayed there as her entire body went stiff and she let out a long moan of ecstasy in his wife's voice; so much like the real thing it was uncanny. James also stopped fighting it and let his body relax, and almost instantly he felt his own hot cum drizzling out of the tip of the cage and onto his stomach as he let out a grunt and a groan.

Still inside of him, Scarlett collapsed onto him, still panting as she whispered in his ear, "Good boy."

He closed his eyes and was enjoying the sensation when he felt a light slap across his cheek, "Hey," she said, smiling but serious, "no sleeping, you still have one last thing to do." She rolled off of him and laid on her back, sliding the strap-on off of her hips and using her foot to pull it down until it was off.