The Church of Female Supremacy

"Of course, sister, I have just the right flogger for the job. Please strip, sister..."

Justine let her clothes fall to the floor, then she lay down on the double-bed that sat in the centre of the little room, on her back. She lay at the edge of the bed, which meant I was to kneel on the floor, and she spread her legs to show me her thick black bush that stood out shockingly dark against her creamy thighs and light pink pussy. With a curled up finger, she beckoned me to start.

I crawled into place. Behind me, a whistling noise announced the first strike of the whip, and my tongue touched Justine's clit just as the whip touched my back. I shuddered, but the pain was not bad. Rather, I felt like I had just clicked into place, a jigsaw piece right where it should be, and I shuddered with the pleasure of recognition, that there was nowhere else for me to be that was better than right there, on my knees, with the heady taste of Justine's pussy on my tongue and her scent filling my nostrils.

"A natural slave," said the priestess.

"Raised gynarchically but not religiously," said Justine; she used few words, seemingly to focus on her pleasure.

"Do you own him, sister?"

"No, sister."

"He worships like you do."

"I know, sister. I know..."

"Boy, show your Goddess your true devotion," said the priestess, then she flogged me that bit harder.

I flicked my tongue forcefully over Justine's clit and she shivered in response. Round and round, side to side, went my eager tongue, and with every little motion and exploration, Justine relaxed down into the bed and opened her legs fractionally wider. I just licked and sucked, while the whip traced fine lines across my back, and my mind tracked all of Justine's responses and little sighs, to build a picture of how best to worship her.

"Does he need more motivation, sister?" said the priestess.

"If anything he needs less?"

"Huh? Is he going too fast?"

"No, nevermind, that's not what I meant. I think the level of motivation you're providing is just right, sister, please continue whipping him as you are. I think he likes it."

"I can move the flogger down a little, if you like."

"Unf. No, not yet - save that for a little while, sister, please."

"My pleasure, sister, my pleasure."

There I was on my knees, locked with two dommes in a little room, in the heart of their church where my legal rights were almost non-existent. I trembled whenever I realised that Justine could actually keep me there for days or weeks if she chose, but then I righted myself with a much more powerful thought: I trusted her, somehow I trusted her almost completely, after mere days of knowing her. She was so present, so certain, so intense, that I couldn't help but be swept up by her.

So I worshipped her. My tongue spelled out my devotion into her clit, and she took my praise gladly, certain in the knowledge that she deserved to receive it and I deserved to give it, both of us lifting the other somewhere neither could go alone. I licked and licked, and she arched her back and wriggled her hips, and then I put my hands beneath her buttocks and cupped them, which meant I could squeeze while I worshipped; Justine gasped in delight at that.

"Close, sister?" asked the priestess.

"Close. He just needs it very light down there, just enough to feel it, not enough to mark."

"I understand, sister, it shall be done."

The flogger changed; I think she swapped it for a lighter one. One moment my back was feeling the touch of thick leather fronds, then next my cock and balls felt the caress of light tassels of some kind of cord. I winced and yelped as one strike bit down hard, but the priestess responded. Mostly each hit just gave me a sense of pressure against my dick, the sensation that my balls were being heavy-petted by someone who knew they could hurt me, but was letting me know that right now they just wanted to control me instead.

"He's getting hard again, sister," said the priestess.

"The boy will be back in chastity soon, sister, don't worry."

"The male must be controlled..."

"Control must be visible..."

"The male must be seen..."

"The male must be made visible..."

"In showing the male..."

"We show ourselves..."

"In controlling the male..."

"We free each other. Oh, I'm cumming!" said Justine.

I felt something surge up from deep inside me as Justine came onto my tongue. It was like I was floating, licking her, rising, falling, all at once, melting into her and worshipping her at the same time, become part of her just for a moment, while the whip that landed on my balls reminded me that I was beneath her, but holding her up, worshipful because I was inferior but then if my superior did not have an inferior there would be no one to worship her, so that was right and good. She came and came and the feeling did not leave me, until finally she was spent.

"Good boy," purred the priestess.

"Good boy," said Justine, breathless.

"The high priestess will see you when you are ready..." said the priestess, then she left without another word.

Justine bade me remain silent. She had me lick her dry while she took out her communicator and sent some messages, and I got my breath back while she lay there ignoring me. I felt privileged just to be there with her, to have been fucked by her, displayed by her, allowed to worship her, allowed to briefly become one with her in all those different ways.

When she had collected herself, she got dressed. She ordered up an icepack from a slave-priest, then she locked my dick up again in a chastity cage and had me stand to follow her through the church. We left the main hall and walked through the back rooms and corridors, until we found our way to a small office stuffed full of books, where the high priestess sat, attended by two wise-eyed old slave-priests.

"Kneel and kiss my feet," said the high priestess; I did it gladly.

"I present to you Harry," said Justine.

"Welcome, slave Harry," said the high priestess.

"Thank you, Goddess," I replied, keeping it simple.

"Justine, the AI approves: the choice is yours," said the high priestess: I looked up at her confused.

"Sister, I choose yes," replied Justine.

"Excellent, sister, as you should: as you must, according to our teachings. Boy, with full AI approval and the approval of the Church of Female Supremacy, you are now the slave-acolyte of Justine, to worship and obey her as her property henceforth. Subject to keeping you happy and healthy, this status shall last a minimum of two years without your consent, so that you may know divinity the right way," said the high priestess.

"Without my consent?" I said, stunned - that was legal to do to a male in some circumstances, but it was rare.

"Boy, we are the Power sect of the Church of Female Supremacy, we do not recognise the male's moral right to self-determination, only those legal rights that we are forced to live with. Today you experienced divinity - don't deny it, boy, I can see it on your face - and today you could have been faced with the choice to turn away from that divinity or to follow it to its logical conclusion: your permanent enslavement as an acolyte of our church. By removing that choice from you, again with legal approval from our caring AI, we were merciful to you: now you can only walk the righteous path."

"Thank you," I said, still struggling for words, but those surprised me.

"An excellent response, Harry, most excellent, and from the heart. Your citizen file has been updated with slave-status, and sister Justine now takes control of any assets you hitherto possessed. All voting rights and rights to own property are removed from you, as are your rights to determine where and how you live, how you spend your days, and to avoid punishment and pain. The right to religion is maintained, governed by your owner, who will guide you down the path of female supremacy to worship the divine feminine."

"Harry, I take you as my slave acolyte, to worship my divinity," said Justine.

"Um. OK..." I said, wide eyed.

"I will train and guide you, love and cherish you..."

"Thank you, Goddess."

"Will you worship me, boy?" said Justine.

"I... will, Goddess. Yes, Goddess: I will worship you. Only you, Goddess."

"Oh Harry, you're making me so happy, though in fact just to correct you there, you will worship anyone I tell you to worship, whenever I tell you to. Harry, the AI had you picked out as likely to hold faith in the principle of divine femininity, but to be sure we had to bring you to the church and see how you reacted to worshipping with us. All the time you've been here, your control collar and a suite of sensors have been recording your reactions, we even caught the surge in that part of your brain that lights up when we experience revelation, when I was fucking you, then when you were between my legs. I'm so excited Harry, you're all mine."

"All yours, Goddess."

"And best of all, you never even had a choice."

"Yes, Goddess."

"I own your soul, Harry."

"You own my soul, Goddess."

"Take him home now, sister, and care for him," said the high priestess with a saintly smile.

"I will, sister, I will..."

Back home

Justine took us to a cafe for a couple of hours, then home. When we got back to the little house we shared, Justine took me straight up the stairs to my room. I startled when I saw the door: while we had been out, the wooden one had been replaced with metal bars, which locked from the outside. Justine pushed me firmly into the room and I found that was not the only change that had been made. Far more eyebolts and bondage points were now scattered around the place, and a sleeping cage had been added along the wall beneath the window.

"You've made some changes, then, Goddess," I said.

"You can call me Justine when it's just us, Harry, and yes, I've made some changes. You're not my housemate anymore, Harry, you're my property, and that means you will need to live in a way that reminds you that you're my property. When you're not with me that's harder, so your room - my room in a more real sense, though I keep my other bedroom too - your room is designed to remind you of that.

"Isn't it wonderful, Harry, just wonderful? Now, get on your knees, and listen: your waiter job is done, you'll work as a helper boy for church women like Clarissa whose males can't do domestic service work. The sleeping cage isn't for punishment, it's for the two days a week you'll live as my pet, and I'm enrolling you two days a week in church school too."

"Isn't that for 18 year olds, goddess?"

"Mostly, but older boys are still boys and you all get treated just the same. Oh, I'm throwing away everything except your public-wear shorts, you don't need any other clothes, and I'm giving you the name Bobbin for your pet-days. That's a legally recognised name: it's going on your slave-record. What else, let me see... We'll need to work up a new punishment regime for you now, with Milly's input: I won't have a boy who only gets maintenance spankings, and I want Milly to know that you no longer have pain limits. Any questions?"

"Yes, G-"

"Save them. Silence until further notice, slave. Start your work now by writing draft letters to send to your friends and relatives introducing me as your owner: I'll review your work in two hours. Locking you in now, boy. Goddess, I need to get off..."

While Justine disappeared into her room to get rid of her horniness, I sat down at my desk and fired up my display. I found I was now locked out of most systems, with an 'Owner Authorisation Required' error message flashing, but I could access a basic word processor, so I started to type out my letters of surrender, and thought about what I should add.

Minutes later, Justine's voice shouted out from her room, "Slaveboy, be sure to tell them I'm going to resize your cock to suit my needs: shorter and fatter so it's cuter but it has nice girth."

I blushed and worked the detail in.

Another shout, "Slaveboy, be sure to tell them that you'll be attending puppy obedience school too."

I wrote that in as well.

And more: "Slaveboy, be sure to tell them that your new owner has discovered you're a plug-slut."

I added it, it was true.

"Slaveboy... Unf... Tell them that your room camera is going to be public access."

I didn't like that but there was nothing I could do about it.

"Slaveboy! Tell them you'll have your first punishment session tomorrow: livestreamed from my accounts. Oh, goddess, oh, I'm cumming..."

I was not cumming, for my cock and balls were safely locked away in their cage, and now only Justine could let them out again. I drafted my letters and imagined my new life; when I thought about being my Goddess's pet, I found that my dick tried its best to get free from its prison and I had to quickly think of other things to stifle the pain. On the floor I noticed a food bowl with 'Bobbin' written on it: I was committed, then, and Justine had been planning this out for a little while. No turning back for this human/animal, I would discover divinity through the careful teaching of my new owner, and perhaps that would blossom further. Divinity, I had learned, so often led to love.

A Month Later

Goddess Justine and Goddess Millicent sat together on the queen-sized bed they now shared. I knelt nearby on the floor, ready and waiting to serve them and hopeful that they would soon take notice of me and invite me into the bed with them. Justine lay atop Milly and I watched as she ran her hands up and down Milly's plump body, while Milly shivered and moaned.

"How's it been for you so far, Milly?" said Justine.

"Goddess, being your sub-girlfriend is very, very stimulating, very much an intense way to live," said Milly.

"How's your pussy feeling, darling?"

"Very sensitive now, Goddess, a little strange to feel air on it so keenly."

"And have you thought any more about what I asked of you a fortnight ago, darling? Are you willing?"

"Well..."

"It would mean the world to me."

"But people would know!"

"I already showed you off to your friends and mine, Milly, people already know."

"People in general."

"Let them."

"Well..."

"I need to rule my household, Milly, and honestly can you tell me you don't want to be ruled?"

"I know; and no. OK, Goddess, add me to the C.O.F.S. database, I'll go on as your sub and you can have official dom-girlfriend status. I guess that means-"

"You'll come to church for a bodyscan and registration, and you'll be expected to attend services once or twice a week from now on, no exceptions..."

"Will you look after me?"

"Oh, Milly, I came here to take care of Harry and you - nothing will make me happier!"

"Thank you, Goddess. And Harry?"

"Hmmm - yes - Harry, come up on the bed and join us. Don't try to speak, just show us your affection."

"Don't say a word!" laughed Milly.

Justine had set my control collar to punish any attempt to form words - she wanted me to be a silent worshipper for a few days, and so I had had to learn how to show obedience with bows, nods, and the actions of my hands and tongue. The silencing of a boy was a common act in the C.O.F.S, and I could expect regular periods without speech for my time as Justine's slaveboy.

Mute, I crawled up onto the bed and nestled in between Milly and Justine's naked bodies, to share their warmth. My dick did its usual dance in its cage, but Milly distracted me by pressing her breast into my mouth where I could suck it. I reached behind my back to find Justine's clit and caressed it with a finger, then I rolled over and reversed the tableau. My beautiful controllers, my owner and her sub, pressed in close to me, and I breathed out a sigh of relief as their divinity surged within me. Between them, ruled by them, our house finally felt like a home.