The Bathhouse Slave

A story set in the Gynarchic Alliance

*****

Charles looked himself over in the mirror that stood in the corner of his pleasant quarters -- his cell, really. The Gynarchic Alliance had taken the body of a portly professor and turned it into the well-proportioned one of his dreams -- even his high-tech slave collar was straight out of his fantasies. He looked far better than he ever had done in his twenties, which his owner had decided was the right age to fix him at. He couldn't argue with her decision.

The door to the cell opened, revealing his alien mistress in all her naked glory, standing holding the collar of Charles's fellow slave Lewis, who worked alongside him in the bathhouse. Charles dropped to his knees and crawled to his owner, kissing her feet to show his love for her. Truth told, he was a little jealous that Lewis had got to spend the night in his mistress's bed, probably sandwiched in between her and Lewis's owner, her lover. But then Charles's clients made such frequent use of his many talents that sometimes a rest was nice, and Lewis deserved to be brought out of his shell in the right way.

"Good morning, Mistress Veeti," said Charles between kisses.

"Good morning, professor," she giggle back.

Mistress Veeti liked to poke fun at the life Charles had led before the Gynarchic Alliance had taken over Earth and enslaved its males. He could still remember every detail of it, but the deprogramming the GA had subjected him to made it seem almost like those events happened to someone else. He made sure to kiss Misress Veeti's toes with extra passion -- he was so glad she had won him at auction, drawing a final line under his old life.

"Observe, slave Lewis -- a good boy makes the most of every opportunity to testify to his devotion to his owner."

The naked slaveboy nodded mutely -- Charles assumed he must have had his vocal cords disabled, not that he ever said much in any case. Mistress Veeti was building a relationship with Lewis's human owner Cassandra, a woman as shy and quiet as Lewis, who Veeti was tutoring in the ways of female domination and female pleasure. Mistress Cassandra had spanked Charles -- a man more than twice her age -- for the first time a few days before, and he had felt the goosebumps rise on her skin as the rush of power hit her. He didn't think it would be long before she would ask to use his tongue or take him with a strapon.

Mistress Veeti bent down and clipped a leash to Charles's collar, who crawled after her as she took the boys to the little kitchen in the flat above the bathhouse. He saw no reason to stand, and wanted to show Lewis how a mature, confident slave takes his status and makes it his own. The other slaveboy didn't take the hint, and walked after Mistress Veeti on two legs -- Charles looked forward to giving him some hints on one of their breaks later in the day.

Mistress Cassandra had breakfast ready for all of them, and they ate together at the table, the only sign of who owned who being the leashes that each mistress hooked over her wrist. Charles finished quickly, guessing correctly that Mistress Veeti might want some entertainment as she ate her morning meal. She pointed silently to her crotch and opened her legs, and Charles wasted no time burying his face in her mound of fine white, silky hair, quickly finding her clit and giving his owner the bliss she deserved.

For the first time in Charles's presence, Mistress Cassandra clicked her fingers to slave Lewis to bring him under the table as well. Charles thought his fellow slave must have shown a little resistance to the idea, for he heard an ominous scraping of Mistress Cassandra's chair followed by the sound of a hand hitting someone's bottom. He was pleased when Lewis scrambled to his knees and got busy worshipping his owner, whose blonde pussy must have been just as hungry for attention as that of Charles's owner.

Charles made sure Mistress Veeti came fast and hard, making good use of the longer, stronger tongue she had given him via the nanites that coursed through his body, giving her rightful control of every last part of it. She especially liked it when he sucked on her clit and rolled the double piercing in his tongue over it with quick flicks. Her hand on his head was a sure sign he was doing something right, and he kept up the pace until Mistress Veeti shouted out an orgasm, then cleaned her up so she was ready for her day.

Charles heard Mistress Cassandra reach her climax while he helped Mistress Veeti dress, squeezing her into the light green PVC dress that so beautifully accentuated her dark green skin. Kneeling, he presented her with the utility belt that she buckled around it every day the bathhouse was open, which bristled with leashes, collars, remote controls for nanites and other tools of a slave owner's trade.

The slaveboy watched as Mistress Veeti kissed Mistress Cassandra goodbye at the door, then crawled with Lewis down the stairs into the bathhouse itself. The steamy bathhouse had a wide foyer filled with gentle pools and display cages, into one of which Charles locked himself, mainly for the look of the thing. His first client was due in ten minutes, but why pass up an opportunity to submit? Lewis was ushered into another cage while Mistress Veeti set the private rooms that ringed the foyer to self-clean so that they were ready for the women who would start to appear soon.

Locked just outside the wide double doors that opened onto the street were four male slaves and three female sub-employees, all waiting patiently for Mistress Veeti to let them in. The slaves were males who had been dropped off there by their owners, usually just a few minutes before, while the sub-employees were free women who chose to work under the dominion of a dominant woman. Unlike the males, they were clothed, though they still had to clock in by shackling themselves to a post.

"Good morning, slaveboys and subgirls, please proceed to your cages or the changing rooms as appropriate. Has anyone seen Grace yet? No, thought not, naughty girl's late again. Subgirls?"

"Yes, Miss Veeti," they chimed together as she unlocked them.

"Proceed to the changing rooms and undress each other. Today's costumes are already set out -- you each have a pair of bikini bottoms and a shift dress to wear. The bottoms will lock to your skin, but your clients can pay extra to get them off -- you know the drill by now. Hop to it!"

Grace rushed in a few minutes later, sweating and panting with exertion. She looked over to Charles and her eyes swept over his body, lingering on his uncaged cock, which was only flaccid because Mistress Veeti had set his nanites to keep it that way until a customer paid extra for use of it. He saw her remember herself, her hand moving to her mouth when she realised she should have immediately apologised to Mistress Veeti.

"You're late again, subgirl. What do you have to say for yourself?"

"I, I'm," she stammered, "I'm very sorry for being late Mistress Veeti. I was supposed to get a lift on a ponyboy cart, but the boy's harness needs maintenance and my friend didn't let me know in time and then-"

"Silence! Get a bus or walk, you don't live far. You know what happens now, don't you?"

"Yes, Mistress Veeti," she replied, starting down at her feet.

"Strip then, girl, I haven't got all day. We open in ten minutes."

Grace's fingers trembled as she took off her shoes and unfastened her dress, letting it fall to the floor next to her. That was all it took, for she wore no underwear, at Mistress Veeti's own suggestion. From his cage, Charles's eyes feasted on her, and his mouth grew wet at the thought of how she had used him last week. Grace had been a student of his before the Gynarchic Alliance had taken over, and had apparently harboured a crush for her former professor even before his body had been reshaped. Mistress Veeti got to know everyone who worked for her, and had soon worked out that the girl's affections for Charles were stronger than ever, so she had granted the girl two hours a week with her slave to have her fun.

Grace had mostly enjoyed Charles's tongue all over her body, squealing and moaning through orgasm after orgasm as she finally got what she wanted, but in the last twenty minutes of their tryst, she had let Charles's cock get hard and then rode them both to completion. Charles hadn't expected such a shy girl to be so skilled a lover, but she knew just how to drive him wild.

"Grace, approach slave Charles's cage and bend over so your bottom is up in the air, then hold onto the cage for support."

"Yes, mistress," she said.

Thwack! went the crop as it landed on Grace's peachy round bottom. Charles held her gaze from inside his cage, silently mouthing his advice to her as the punishment continued -- just endure it, try to be grateful, don't do it again, not long to go now, remember you signed up for this. Tears formed in Grace's eyes even as a peaceful smile spread across her face -- she must need the release, Charles thought, though it would be better to ask for it rather than keep being late and risk being fired.

When the punishment was over, one of the subgirls dressed Grace in the same white shift dress and bikini bottoms they all wore, and knelt down with her near the entrance. Charles watched Mistress Veeti surveying her domain -- he was deeply happy that she was so content here on Earth, for he had worried that she would find it stressful to start a new life here where the culture of female domination was still bedding in. He had realised that was what she wanted -- to help Earth build its female-led future -- and that being a pioneer suited her.

Clients started to drift in. The slaves like Charles were fair game for anything their mistresses had said they could do -- Charles mostly gave thorough, all-body massages, but Mistress Veeti allowed clients to use his tongue, his cock, his arse and even to indulge in a little light torture if they so wished. Lewis was allowed only to massage and use his tongue, while the other male slaves were much less limited. The subgirls set their own limits in their contract of employment, but Charles knew from serving alongside them, or even underneath, that their agreements were very widely drawn.

The cage sprang open and Charles's leash was handed to a powerful lawyer who took him into one of the private rooms. She let her clothes fall to the floor and got comfortable on the massage table while Charles warmed up his hands. Charles saw on his pad that the lawyer wanted the slave attending her to feel some pain while she received her massage, but when he tried to ask her what kind of torture she wanted to inflict on him, he found his vocal cords muted. He found nipple clamps and a nanite mesh that would squeeze his balls -- just the right tools for a woman to show a male his place.

Presenting these to the client, she nodded to both and watched Charles attach them to his slave body -- she smiled wickedly as the pain kicked in, then she adjusted both devices to the maximum pain level Charles's owner would allow. Breathing through the ache, Charles got to work on the woman laying before him.

He started with her neck and shoulders, using his skilled fingers and light oils to work out all the knots there. The client reached out a hand and held Charles by the cock, letting him know with her squeezes when he was getting it just right. He could speak no words, but his breathing, his sighs, his flinches and his trembling seemed to let the client know that the pain was having its effect on him. Charles enjoyed the attention and the chance to submit, even if tears were forming in his eyes.

The client let go of Charles's cock, and he knew to move down to her lower back. Underneath the massage table was a control pad that allowed the client to alter what the table did, or even to send shocks or waves of pleasure through Charles's body. As Charles worked diligently on, releasing all the tension that the lawyer's work brought to her, the client had the table form a nanite vibrator, which moved into position and began to throb against her clit.

Charles was a little jealous -- dominant women could have all the orgasms they liked but he was restricted to those his owner or his clients granted him. If ever he wanted another, he had to beg, in the most public place possible, even though his sex drive was just as strong as theirs. The client on his table had no such restrictions, and started to moan and grunt as the vibrator did its work, and Charles did his.

He judged the time right to move further down, starting with the client's calves and teasing her by moving up and down her legs, able fingers kneading and caressing as he went. She responded with more moans, while her body sank right down into the table as her stress floated away. Charles flushed with the feeling of a job well done, for he lived to make dominant women happy. He reflected that the collar around his neck, the pain mesh around his balls, and the clamps on his nipples were all things he needed just to be who he was -- a willing slaveboy.

The client orgasmed as Charles's fingers moved up to her bottom, where they stayed to enhance her pleasure while her climax coursed through her, helping her relax even more. Charles could tell she had reached the state of bliss that he wanted for each and every one of his clients, and he made his massages light and tender so as to keep her there for the time she had left. By now, her breathing was slow and steady, and her whole body was soft and tender -- he knew she needed this, knew she'd come back for more the next day or the next week.

He bowed to her as she left, cleaned up the room and returned to his cage, where he watched Grace in one of the public pools as she massaged a bossy and demanding student from the local university they both attended. The student had come in with a friend and hired a girl and a boy between them, so Grace and the male slave had to switch positions often to satisfy the pair, who had also paid a little extra to remove Grace's bikini bottoms. It really showed the difference between her hairless pussy and their dominant mounds. Charles could see Grace trying her best to pleasure the girls -- she seemed to have the same need to serve as he did.

Charles's next client had taken over his old job -- she had been his fiercest rival and now that he had taken his rightful place as a slave, she liked to visit every so often to tell Charles how things were going. Charles had explained to her, with great patience, that the Gynarchic Alliance's deprogramming meant he had let go of his old life, and that she had nothing left to prove. Finally, she had accepted the words -- and the evidence of his complete submission. Now she just used him as a useful sounding board, a skilled pair of hands and a worshipful tongue.

Charles undressed her in the public area of the bathhouse, careful fingers unbuttoning her jacket, opening her blouse, unhooking her bra. She made him stop to suck her nipples for a minute, while Charles thrilled at the chance to take her perfect pert breasts into his mouth, then had the slaveboy continue to strip her. Charles worked her shoes loose, rubbing her feet for a moment, just how he knew she liked it, then he ran his hands up her calves and thighs to find the fastenings that held her skirt, which fell to the floor and was swiftly followed by her underwear.

Now suitably unclothed, Charles led his client to one of the pools in the open area of the steamy bathhouse, then helped her down into the pool where he got in behind her. Charles let her get comfortable against him, her curvy frame always a great delight to be close to, then began kneading the tension out of her shoulders. There seemed to be less and less each time she came -- a sign that society was settling down after the great female takeover.

"Oh good boy, Charles, your hands are so fucking good."

"My pleasure, professor. You seem more relaxed than usual."

"Oh, Charles, you don't know the half of it. The Gynarchic Alliance recognises no higher goal than learning -- you know even slaves like you can study if your owners allow it -- and my department just got all the funding it could ever need. We're going to triple in size in less than a year -- education for all, a true utopia! Things have finally turned the corner now we've finished enslaving the males. Do you remember my two favourite students -- mousy little Petra and her sweet boyfriend Daniel?"

"Of course, professor, I taught them too -- they had exceptional minds. I keep in touch with a few people from my old life, but none of the students. What are they doing now?"

"Right now, having the time of their young lives I should think. Petra took Daniel as her slave-husband and I've taken her as a temporary subwife. I let them study everything they can devour in the day, and in return they live with me and entertain me and my guests. If I pull up the camera feed of my house on the wrist computer, which do you think they're doing -- studying or fucking? Let me make it interesting -- guess right and I'll rent you for full sex one day soon, guess wrong and I'll rent you to fuck in the arse. Well?"

Charles couldn't see the downside of this particular bet, and he thought about what two fit young students like Petra and Daniel might be doing at ten thirty in the morning.

"I'd guess fucking, professor," he said.

The professor pulled up an image of the two, held captive in her home until she chose to release them, which clearly showed them going at it like wild animals. Charles was pleased with his win and craned his neck to kiss the professor's shoulders, which drew a deep sigh of appreciation from within her chest. She flicked on the sound, so that they could hear the lovers -- to Charles's surprise, they were listening to a talk the professor had recorded.

"Well," said the professor, "we both win then. I'll have to pay for your arse and your cock, you lucky boy. Petra's little bottom will be due a spanking for this -- she likes it best outdoors so she can show me off to her friends. And how are you, Charles? Is your owner treating you well?"

"My Mistress and I are very happy together, thank you for asking. She is enjoying the challenge of bringing true civilisation to Earth."

"Looking at this place, I'd say she's succeeded admirably."

Charles kept up the massage while the professor filled him in on all the latest happenings in the world outside. Truth told, Charles cared little to know about them, but he listened carefully all the same, so the professor could get the most out of her time with him. He needed no other fulfilment than to serve women to the best of his abilities, and found happiness with ease.

When the professor had left, Charles gave two more full-body massages to local women, then the bathhouse closed for lunch, which Charles mostly spent with his face buried in one of the subgirl's pussies, while Grace looked on, her punishment for being late to be denied a lunchtime orgasm. Instead Mistress Veeti put the girl across her knee and spanked her with a hairbrush, until Grace's tears washed away her guilt at having disappointed her employer. Mistress Veeti took a quick orgasm from Grace's tongue, then opened up the bathhouse again.

Charles's favourite former student walked in through the double doors and shimmied out of the few clothes she wore, granting the slaveboy a welcome view of her slim body and the bright red hair between her legs. Gina had found many ways to earn herself extra social credits, and like many young women in the Gynarchic Alliance, she spent most of them on her own pleasure.

Charles crawled after her into one of the private rooms -- she much preferred him to show absolute submission and he wasn't about to disappoint her -- then knelt in a display position so she could admire him, her hands running all around his powerful chest. Gina traced her nails over Charles's skin, drawing quick gasps as she reached his nipples. Gina exuded the natural power of a completely dominant woman, and Charles gave in to it, accepting her control without a thought.