Put in their Place

The girls looked at the scene of devastation with dismay.

All of their dolls had been decapitated. Their crockery sets had clearly been used as target practice with air pistols. The tyres on their prams and baby strollers had been removed and slashed, leaving the bodies of the vehicles resting on the muddy ground.

The girls knew who had been responsible. Ever since their brothers had decided...no...since a new boy, Darren, had moved into the road and had recruited their brothers into a gang he had formed, the girls had been the victims of raids and intimidation.

It had begun with demands for the girls to hand over their pocket money and had then escalated to thefts of some of the girls' underwear and clothing (mercifully from their bedrooms rather than in public) and now this latest incident where the boys confiscated all of their toys.

All of the girls were fuming. They had complained to their parents, who had punished their brothers by either corporal punishment or grounding them, but this had had no effect upon their behaviour. They immediately fell under the spell of their leader, Darren, again and the persecution continued.

After salvaging what they could of their toys, the girls held a council of war. Claire, their leader, gave a short speech "Girls, I don't know about you, but I have had enough. Reasoning with these boys has had no effect. Our parents' punishments have had no effect. We need to take matters into our own hands and teach the boys that they mess with us at their peril! I've had an idea."

The other girls looked at her expectedly. Claire stared at her sisters in arms. They were, like her, ten year old girls, dressed up in pretty frocks and wore hair ribbons in their long hair. But they also wore looks of determination and resolve on their childish features. They too, had had enough.

"Yes" continued Claire "Girls, we're going to put these boys in their place....."

Darren and his gang of six other boys were at the base they had set up in the woods near to where they and their victims lived. A pair of girls' frilly knickers fluttered from an improvised flagpole and Darren had stashed the money that they had stolen in an old sock that was hidden in a place known only to him.

Darren was pleased with himself. Since moving into the area only a few months ago, he had rapidly established a gang, a base, and good source of revenue. Before long, he would expand his operations to include neighbouring areas. The boys he led were chumps, dim and easily led, but that worked to his advantage. He had yet to meet a boy who was a match for him in either brains or brawn.

He gathered his gang together for another foray. It was pay day for most households and therefore pocket money day for the girls he preyed upon.

It was then that he saw movement, a glimpse of a girl's shiny pink frock and her white, frilled underwear just peeping out from beneath her short skirt from behind some bushes. Then the girl stepped out into a clearing and into full view.

The girl looked like a stereotypical little girl, with her cute ankle socks and shiny black mary-janes. Her creamy coloured, girlish, long legs seemed to go on forever until they reached the frills of her knickers and the skirt of the frock she wore. The girl had long blonde hair, tied up in bunches and barettes.

The things girls had to wear! Darren thought. He was thankful that he was a boy. Then he became annoyed when he realised that this girl obviously knew where his top secret base was! She would have to be taught to keep her mouth shut.

The girl smiled sweetly at the group of boys and bobbed them a dainty little curtsey - and then stuck her tongue out in a clear gesture of cheek and defiance. Darren was quick to anger and ordered his gang to catch the girl. But the girl had realised what the boys intended and took off with an astonishing burst of speed.

The whole gang pursued her. Darren marvelled at the speed of the girl as she dodged in and out of trees and bushes. An Olympic athlete would have a job keeping up with her. Then, as the whole gang entered a clearing, Darren thought he heard a feminine voice shout "Now!" and he and the rest of his gang suddenly felt themselves becoming entangled and then rising into the air.

Darren realised that he and his gang had been led into a trap. They were now all held within a thick rope net and they were swinging from the stout branch of a tree. Below, a group of girls were hauling at a rope and then tied if off, leaving the boys stranded and helpless in their prison.

Debbie clapped Sasha, the girl who had led the boys into the trap (and the best sprinter at school by a long way) on the back "Well done, Sash" and then, turning to all of her group, she said "Right girls. lets go and look at their base!" They walked off in the direction of Darren's base, ignoring the pleadings of the boys to let them go.

The boys remained suspended in the net for some time. A little later, the girls sauntered past them disdainfully, heading in the direction of their homes - and the homes where all of the boys except for Darren, who had no siblings, lived. They again ignored the boys' protests and pleas.

By now, the boys were becoming cold, hungry and thoroughly uncomfortable. They became very agitated as they saw their sisters wander past again, carrying some of the boys' toys, bikes and even their clothes and underwear. The boys howled in protest when they realised that their sisters had appropriated their possessions, including some of their more intimate possessions, and that there was nothing that they could do about it! The girls airily disregarded them and continued towards the boys' base.

The boys' stomachs were rumbling and they shivered. They then saw Claire appear, but she was no longer dressed in the little girl outfit that she normally wore. She was attired in her brother's clothes of shirt, jumper, trousers and flat, clumpy shoes. Claire held something shiny in her hand and was standing next to the taut rope that held the boys aloft.

The boys were at first puzzled by Claire's appearance. Then they realised that the shiny thing that Claire held in her small hand was a penknife that she had liberated from amongst her sibling's possessions. The realisation suddenly dawned on the seven male brains trapped within the net that Claire intended to cut the rope.

Seven voices tried to cry out "No, don't!" but Claire ignored them and sliced through the rope. The boys screamed as they felt themselves hurtling to the ground. The boys were stunned and bruised by the impact. But their ordeal was not over by any means, for the other girls, now dressed as their leader was, in their brothers' clothes, grabbed hold of the ropes that held the net closed and proceeded to drag the net, and its unwilling, helpless cargo, across the rough terrain, through bushes and even a stream.

The boys were bruised, scratched, dirty and soaking wet when their short journey ended. With one exception, all of the fight had spirit had gone out of the boys. Some of them were even crying. Darren, who was seething with anger and determined to gain vengeance, scornfully called them crybabies.

The girls had dragged them to their base. Now their former base, as the girls had taken it over. The girls had armed themselves with hockey sticks (which they did not hesitate to use when the need arose) and removed the boys from the net, one boy at a time, and leaving Darren until last. Each boy was taken out and escorted under a heavy guard of hockey stick wielding girls behind some bushes, where whatever happened next could not be seen by the boys left in the net.

Occasionally, there was a cry of pain and some blubbing, and Claire's voice, ordering her victim to go home, at which, in most cases, provoked more blubbing, which became quieter and then ceased althogether as the victim trudged home.

At last, it was Darren's turn. Intending to put up resistance, his spirit evaporated as he was confronted by seven girls, all armed with their hockey sticks and looking, not feminine or sweet, as girls should be, but threatening and aggressive.

Claire grabbed him by the shoulder "Come on you, time to get you out of those wet clothes and into something more suitable!" Darren was about to protest that if he hadn't been dragged through bushes and streams by these same girls, he wouldn't need a change of clothes, but judging from the looks on the faces of his guards, he judged that he would be wiser to keep his mouth shut.

Darren found himself being led behind the same bushes where the rest of his gang had been taken. "Get out of those wet things and get changed into these!" Claire ordered him. But Darren was stunned by what he was being asked to change into.

It was the complete outfit of a little girl. A pink gingham frock with lots of ribbons and lacy things, white frilly knickers, ankle socks and shiny black mary-janes.

"You must be joking!" Darren blurted out "I'm not wearing that lot!"

"We were hoping you would say that!" exclaimed Claire "Right girls! Bend him over and lets give him a richly deserved spanking!"

Despite struggling manfully, even Darren was no match for the combined strength of several girls and, humiliatingly, he found himself bent over with his bottom presented for a spanking. Darren decided to perservere and show these girls that he could take whatever punishment they cared to mete out to him. The girls took it in turns to spank him with a table tennis bat. Darren was able to endure the pain for a while, but fifteen minutes later, his bottom ached and Darren, to his shame, was shedding tears. He couldn't take any more and begged the girls to stop.

Claire handed him the little girls' outfit and told him to hurry up and get changed into it. Sobbing with not only the pain of his spanking, but with the humiliation of having to wear such a sissy outfit, Darren summoned up the courage to put the outfit on. Ten minutes later and Darren felt positively ridiculous in his frock and other girlish paraphenalia. The girls were in hysterics at the sight of their former tormenter dressed as a little girl.

They made him curtsey to them "like a good little boy". Sasha whipped out a digital camera from a pocket and snapped Darren as he performed a curtsey. Then, after saying how cute and sweet he looked, ordered him to go home, dressed as he was.

All of the fight knocked out of him, by his humiliating spanking and manner of dress, Darren set off in the direction of home, wondering how he was going to explain to his parents how he had ended up in his current predicament and hoping to avoid anyone seeing him dressed like this. It was too humiliating!

Five minutes into his journey and he ran into the rest of his gang. Darren's mouth dropped open at the sight of them. Steve was dressed as a ballerina, complete with a tutu and ballet slippers. David was dressed as in a nurse's uniform. Adam wore a saloon dancing girl's outfit, with fishnet stockings and full skirts. Robert was dressed up as a princess, in a flowing pink gown and a tiara. Mike wore a pink romper suit and a baby bonnet and looked to be on the verge of crying just like a baby and Nick was dressed as wonder woman, in his satin tights.

The worst thing was, Darren decided, was that they all looked very girlish and feminine in their new clothes. Himself included. The feminised boys stood shivering and wondering what to do and sniggering at Darren's altered appearance. Darren was shivering himself, as his legs and arms were fully exposed in his new dress, and eager to get indoors as soon as possible and away from view. Darren had never been so humiliated in his life!

As they were deciding what to do, Darren's heart sank when he saw a posse of mothers, including his own, striding towards them. The seven women stopped and howled with laughter at the sight of their sons dressed in their girlish outfits. They ordered their sons to take their hands and briskly marched them home, in full view of the residents of the street, who were in hysterics at the sight of the former bullies reduced to such a state.

Once home, each blubbing boy was made to blurt out how and why they had ended up dressed as they were. The mothers decided that the punishment inflicted upon the boys was fitting and appropriate. Since they had enjoyed bullying girls and destroying their toys, they could spend some time in dresses and playing with dollies.

So it was that it was the girls of the street who had become dominant and ruled the neighbourhood with a firm, but benign hand. Claire and her gang patrolled the streets, dressed as boys and armed with their hockey sticks whilst their brothers and their former leader, sat together in Darren's garden, dressed in frocks and their lace and frills and playing with their dolls. The other boys had become accustomed to their new clothes and had even become addicted to all things feminine, but a blushing Darren, hating his frocks and frillies and being made to play with dolls, scowled at Claire and her gang, who had usurped his rightful place and had turned him into a sissy boy.

Claire smiled sweetly at him and gave him a little wave "Hello Darren, what a pretty dress you are wearing today! It used to be one of mine actually, but you look so much sweeter in it!", and loving the way his face turned red at the compliments and the giggles of the girls with her.

Darren and his gang had been put in their place all right and Claire was loving every moment of it!

Boys and their Toys (1970-2030)

In the distant past, when the male was still the dominant gender, the toys given to boys in childhood reflected traditional notions that young males were to be brought up to be dominant and to work in the wider world.

Hence, boys were given toy soldiers to play with to foster their aggression and warlike tendencies, toy trucks and construction sets to emphasise that boys were good at building things and using their hands, toy cars and other vehicles and bikes and sports gear to make them more athletic.

Girls, on the other hand, invariably had to play with toys to prepare them for their future roles as housewives and mothers and their world was filled with the colour pink and with frills and lace. Dressing up dolls and having tea parties with them, baking cookies in toy ovens and dressing themselves up in pretty frocks and using make up was the lot of girls for many decades, as well as doing feminine activities such as sewing, ballet and baton twirling.

Boys were thus playing with toys to make them masculine and girls were engaged in activities to make them ultra-feminine, with the emphasis on being pretty, rather than practical and clever, as boys were encouraged to be.

This strict segregation between boys and girls began to change with the advent of feminism and the computer and information technology age.

By 2010, after decades of stunning success academically and the relentless advance of women in the workplace, girls were by now long used to believing that they were far superior in every way to a mere boy. Once upon a time, a boy could arrogantly boast that he was better than a girl both in terms of sheer physical power and also in terms of brainpower and academic success. The male of the species was better suited to lead, make the important scientific discoveries and protect and provide for his family held good for a long time.

By the early 2000's, the claim of boys to be superior academically to girls had become more a source of amusement to females than offensive or sexist. Boys, acknowledging their defeat at the hands of girls in the classroom, retreated and took comfort in new forms of games, provided for them on their computers and on their games consoles.

But this was a mistake. While boys remained competitive, such sedentary activity made boys lazy. They lost interest in sports and athletics, where they had still held the advantage over girls and, more importantly, began to lose masculine traits, such as motivation, determination. resourcefulness, aggression and risk-taking.

Girls increasingly took up sports and athletics and began to gain the masculine qualities that the boys were fast losing. They were not only becoming more assertive, more aggressive, more competitive and more inclined to take risks than boys, they were actually getting fitter and stronger than boys. At school and university, girls were not only outstripping boys academically but also on the sports fields where boys had once been dominant.

Meanwhile, in the wider world, the statistics showed the pitiful academic performance of males generally, of an economy that literally did not need any male input, except at the lowest and most menial levels, since its needs demanded qualities such as focus, patience, communication skills, networking, multi-tasking, as well as academic and professional qualifications, which women could generally deliver a whole lot better than men could.

By the 2020's, women had literally replaced men as the dominant sex. Men found themselves largely excluded from the workforce and had to take on the traditionally feminine roles in the home. Many men by this time had adopted, or had been forced to wear by their dominant mate, feminine clothing and accessories in tribute to the new dominant gender.

By the mid 2020's, it was no longer appropriate for a girl to have to wear a dress or skirt or to play with dolls. She was more likely to become a Doctor, Lawyer or Scientist than a housewife. Girls were already starting to play with "boys toys" earlier in the century, but by this point they had been discouraged from girly things and played exclusively with toy trains, cars and soldiers. The colour pink was a definite no-no for a girl, who wore jeans and T-shirts, wthout any accessories and without the long hair that traditionally characterised her gender.

At the same time, concerns were raised about the upbringing of boys. They had become lazy, unfit, unwilling to study and slovenly. They were addicted to violent computer games that encouraged aggressive and competitive instincts but which were unproductive. Many mothers, by now the complete mistress of her home, took their boys in hand. For punishment or merely for the amusement of the mother and the boy's sisters, boys were subjected to petticoat punishment and put into pretty frocks and frilly knickers. Some mothers even went as far as to put their son's hair into ringlets and tie bows in it.

For boys, who were more used to be a fictional soldier on their games consoles, engaged in a traditonally masculine role, their sudden feminisation was a deeply traumatic and humiliating experience. His world changed from a fake battlefield to a world filled with pink, frilly, pretty things that he had to live in and be shown off to the world in.

Finally, to complete the metamorphosis, boys were no longer allowed access to the violent games that had been their downfall. The computers and games consoles were replaced with toys more fitting for a boy whose destiny was more likely to be that of a father and househusband. The doll, the pram, baby stroller, dolls house and tea party set now became the staple items in a boy's toy cupboard and, having no access to any other toys, he had no choice but to play with them. In fact, he was forced to play with them by mothers anxious to ensure a positive change in his appearance and personality.

By 2030, it was common to see a boy, dressed in a pink frock, white frilly knickers that the short skirt of his dress did little to hide, and with bows tied in his long hair, brushing the hair of his dolls, or taking them out for walks in their pram. The new toys would, over time, make the boys more sensitive, more inclined to show emotion, to be meek, docile and submissive.

Girls would smile at their brothers as they played with the toys which had once been for boys only, but which she had now appropriated and at him becoming more and more feminised by his new toys, once meant for girls, that had been forced upon him.

The world is a woman's world, and also, a girl's world!

Fem-Utopia

Josh slowly removed one of his stockings from his long hairless leg and wrapped it around the neck of one of the members of the wholly female audience, much to her delight and those of the women around her.

In a deliberately lengthy performance in order to encourage the audience to purchase more drinks and nibbles, Josh took off his other stocking, his corset, his stilettos and finally his lacy thong, which sent his female audience into a state bordering on ecstasy.

Josh appeared confident on the outside, but inwardly he was shaking. This was his first time as a stripper. Luckily for him, he was only 17 and had a petite figure, with little musculature. He was the ideal male from the point of view of the dominants, the female sex, puny, hairless (since Josh had had to shave off his body hair), and weak.

Josh departed from the stage to make way for another stripper, with his clothes in his hands, along with bank notes and telephone numbers hastily scribbled onto business cards and scraps of paper. Josh had no intention of caller any of his suitors back.

He almost ran into Don, who owned and ran the club. Don was a huge, obese man, who wore a designer dress that did little to hide his sheer bulk. And, as usual, he wore far too much make up and perfume. Josh almost recoiled at the overly strong mixed odour of primrose and body odour. Don made a lot of dough out of this joint and as he WAS the boss, his opinion was important. Josh waited for his verdict on his performance.

Don took one of his hands and kissed it in an extravagent manner. "Good job, Kid! You gave the audience what they wanted and left them wanting more! You have a bright future here".

Josh's shoulders sagged in relief. Stripping made him much more than working the bar, his former job. If Don thought he was good, that was all that mattered.

Josh changed into his normal clothes. Bra and knickers, garter belt and stockings, petticoats and long skirt, a frilly blouse and high heels. Josh arranged his long hair into pigtails and tied bows around the tails and then put on his make up. After a few tweaks to his appearance, Josh was satisfied and left the club.

He had to go meet his girlfriend. And she was very particular about his appearance.

Melanie was waiting outside the club. In her chaffeur driven limo. She was tapping her foot impatiently. Boys! Why was it they took so long to get ready? She was about to order the chaffeur to hit the pedal when a breathless Josh opened the door.

"What the hell took you so long?" Melanie demanded.

"Sorry, Mel. The act took longer than I thought. And my eyebrows took longer than I thought to pluck."

"Pleeeeaase! spare me the gory details! Just get in the car already!"

Josh climbed in and Melanie told the chaffeur to get going. The limo moved off into the city.

As he sat beside her, Josh marvelled at how successful his girlfriend was. They had gone to the same school, yet he was living on the margins of society whilst she was an Executive Vice President of a major league company. She earned more in a day than he did in a month. had an expense account and a limo. Like all women, she liked her men weak and submissive and for her, Josh ticked all of her boxes.

Mel was tall and muscular and had short cropped hair. She worked out at a gym everyday and did weight-training, like most women did. She enjoyed demonstrating her physical as well as her intellectual superiority over her boyfriend by defeating him effortlessly at arm wrestling and other feats of strength.

Josh sat silently in the back of the limo. Boys were to been seen and not heard and could only speak when a female deigned to address him. That was a rule from early childhood. Josh remembered his own childhood, when he was obliged to wear frocks and frills and play with dolls whilst his sister wore trousers and played sports. "Boys were put on this earth to be pretty and to be pleasing to women" was a constant mantra throughout his life.

Josh thought back to his school days and, in particular, to his history lessons. Once, not so long ago actually, there had been a time when men had worn the trousers and made the big decisions. Now women did. Just how this turnaround had happened Josh did not fully understand. The official account stated that "female talent, suppressed by male authority for so long, came to the fore and proved to be superior to that of the male of the species. The myth of male superiority was exposed as a fraud and the natural leaders, females, took their place at the head of society. The male was relegated to his natural place as the servants of the new elite: womankind".

Josh (and all boys) had accepted all of this. Women were the naturally dominant gender. Males existed to serve. Hence his current career path as a barman, serving drinks to female customers in a short dress, stockings and a frilly apron and then as a stripper, ending up in the buff.

Melanie snogged Josh and fondled him as her limo cruised through the city. He was her plaything and hers to command. Josh submitted to her kisses and wandering hands like any good boy should do when in the hands of a girl.

The limo dropped them off at Melanie's apartment in one of the posher areas of the city. Josh dressed up in the dainty lingerie that his girlfriend had bought for him and presented himself to her, prettily packaged in a lacy bra and thong, seamed stockings and a pair of pink stilettos and allowed her to ravish him until his mind, on an emotional rollercoaster, succumbed to sleep.

Josh awoke alone in the bed. Melanie was furiously typing away on her personal computer terminal, her brilliant mind now preoccupied with work. That, Josh decided, was the thing with women these days. Work. Women felt committed to getting things done before having fun. Perhaps, Josh considered, that was that had made them become the superior gender. As well as exercising constantly in the gym so that they were fitter and stronger than their men.

With the male of the species, their priorities were slightly different. To be sure, there was work to be done. Mainly housework and childrearing for married men and, for unmarried men who had to earn their own living, menial jobs such as waiting table, cleaning or selling men's clothes, lingerie and accessories to other males. These tasks were the only jobs men were fit to do.

But beyond that, men were expected, even compelled, to be pleasing to women. They had to dress up for them in pretty feminine clothing and underwear, shave and perfume their bodies, wear their hair long and have their ears pierced and they had to wear jewellery and cosmetics. But looking the part of the modern male was not as important as acting the part.

Modern man was supposed to be docile, submissive and to follow the lead of the women in his life and submit to her kisses, embraces and her fingers exploring his body. He was supposed to put the women in his life first and be willing to serve them.

This was reinforced in every aspect of a man's life. By having to wear feminine clothing and do traditionally feminine jobs, he became feminine. The media presented men as sex objects, dressed in skimpy lingerie, stockings and high heels, or even naked. Scantily clad boys now draped themselves across the bonnets of cars to sell them to a female clientele.

Women were certainly not presented in the same way. Rather, women remained fully clothed and were seen in dominant roles in advertising. Nakedness in women, except in the privacy of their own homes, was actively discouraged in women. As was any tendency towards femininity. A woman who wore pink or an item of pretty jewellery was regarded as perverse and unnatural and referred to a therapist to put her back on the right track.

Everyone accepted that women were more intelligent than men (colleges and universities were now women-only institutions), better equipped intellectually, emotionally and even physically for the more demanding, but higher paying and higher status roles in society. Josh did not know, or had heard of, a single man who occupied a senior position anywhere in society. Only men like Don, who as a strip club owner lived on the margins of society, approached anything like the life and trappings that attended a woman. And even he still had to conform to traditional male femininity.

From his girlfriend's window, high up on the twentieth floor, Josh's baby blue eyes caught a glimpse of the all-female police force, striding about in her police outfit and swinging her truncheon about. The police tended to ogle young males like Josh and some of them even put young boys under arrest with the express intention of using and abusing them, or so Josh had heard from some of the other strippers.

But the visible police were not as scary as the so-called gender police. These were plainclothes female detectives who moved about the populace, looking out for signs of deviancy. Especially amongst men. An overly masculine gesture, wearing female dress or criticism of the Matriarchy, the sole governing party that formed the government, could land a male in serious trouble with the authorities.

Men lived constantly in the shadow, and in fear, of women.

Josh sensed from his girlfriend's body language that she wanted him out of her hair and so, after kissing her gently on the lips, he departed. He was quite used to his high-powered girlfriend dismissing him without words. She had important work to do and did not need a pretty boy distracting her from it.

Josh went back to the club and performed a few more acts to earn some more money before returning to his own apartment, located in one of the seedier areas of town. Mel refused to visit him there, saying it stank of male failure (95% of the inhabitants were male, after all, and they were mostly like Josh, living on the edges of society).

Josh lowered himself into a battered armchair and turned on the T-Screen, a large flat screen fitted into one of the walls. The news was on and it was, as usual, trumpeting the achievements of the Supreme Matriarch and the other matriarchs who formed the government of the country, which, in a more distant age had been called America (or so Josh's hazy memory of his history lessons recalled), but was now the Matriarchy of Fem-Utopia. Under their benign rule, the country was prosperous, peaceful and in harmony. Josh turned over and watched his favourite soap show, "It's a Man's World", about a group of househusbands, before returning to the club.

Josh went through his routine again. One lady, an older woman who seemed vaguely familiar, seemed to show a greater interest than was normal for a "client". The way she looked at him and licked her lips unnerved Josh and he was glad when the performance was over. To his great relief, when he went out to perform again, the woman had gone.

Josh thought nothing of it and, when his last dance ended, put on his coat, collected his handbag and walked home. His high heels clicked loudly against the pavement. He had not walked very far before he became aware that he was being followed. By a car. It was a black limousine. The type of vehicle used by members of the Matriarchy. Or the gender police! Overwhelming fear came over Josh as the limo drew up alongside him and stopped.

The rear door swung open noiselessly. "Get in, little boy!" a stern female voice ordered. Petrified and knowing that any attempt at refusal would be a grave, maybe even a fatal mistake, Josh clambered into the limo and the door automatically closed behind him, followed by the click of the doors of the vehicle locking. Josh realised that he was trapped.

He found himself alone in the back of the luxurious limousine. The female voice, presumably the driver of the vehicle spoke to him again, this time in a gentler, almost soothing tone "Relax kiddo, just sit back and enjoy the ride. There's a chilled bottle of champagne, some nibbles and even a T-Screen back there, so knock yourself out".

Josh did not want to relax. He demanded to know who the woman was and what she wanted with him, but she would not answer. Nervous, he helped himself to some of the champagne and drained the bottle during what he now realised was a lengthy drive to the matriarchal district, where the elite lived. Josh wondered what was in store for him.

The limo entered the compound of one of the many palaces that formed the residences of the women who ruled the country. The doors were released and Josh was ordered to get out. Josh climbed out to find several young, strong women dressed in black uniforms. Members of the bodyguard of one of the Matriarchs. Without speaking to Josh, the women surrounded him and herded him inside the brightly lit palace.

Josh wondered if he would ever leave the place again. He was petrified and intimidated by his opulent surroundings that reeked of power and dominance and by the strong, silent women who encircled him.

The bodyguard escorted Josh through gleaming marble and quartz corridors and through to what was obviously a study, filled with a huge oak desk, rare paintings and expensive furnishings. Josh's jaw dropped when he saw who was seated behind the desk.

It was the older lady from the club. Josh had failed to place her when she had been in Don's seedy, squalid club, but in these surroundings, he instantly recognised her as Matriarch Tabitha, whose responsibilities included justice, law enforcement and national security. She was one of the most powerful women in the country.

Tabitha ordered the other women in the room to leave her alone with "the pretty boy". Once they were alone, Tabitha ordered him to sit beside her on a chaise longe. Reluctantly, Josh minced forward and sat beside her. He was terrified of being alone with this powerful woman. She could have him executed or imprisoned indefinitely or beaten up by her musclebound bodyguards.

Tabitha sensed his nervousness and it seemed to arouse her. She kissed and fondled Josh, fed him luxury tidbits, washed down with more champagne. Josh was beginning to feel quite drunk from the bottle he had consumed during his journey here. Tabitha stroked him and told him how beautiful and sexy he was before leading him to her bedroom.

Once there, Tabitha ordered Josh to perform his strip tease act for her. By now too drunk to feel fear, Josh obliged, rubbing his stockings against the face of a senior member of the government and causing her to moan in ecstasy as he danced and stripped for her. There followed a night of high passion. Josh could hardly believe that a few hours earlier he had been stripping in a fleapit strip joint and now he was sharing the bed of one of the elite.

When Josh awoke, he found himself alone in the satin sheets. He guessed that his presence here was no longer required and so got dressed. He would have liked to have bathed or showered but this was certainly not his house and dared not take liberties. When he tried to leave, though, the female security force guarding the place ordered him to remain in the palace. He was ordered to take a bath and given clean lingerie, a designer dress and high heels to wear.

Once he was dressed in his new clothes, the guards took him to another room in the palace. This room was decorated in pink and white, with a four poster bed and vanity table. It was a man's boudoir, Josh realised, where he made himself presentable and entertained female suitors. It the dawned on him that he would never leave the palace again, until his new mistress chose to release him. He had gone from the frying pan into the fire, from being a stripper to being the sexual plaything of a woman who could either cherish him or crush him like a bug whenever she wished.

Dressed in the most expensive lingerie, heels and dress and living in a palace, Josh had never felt so powerless or so trapped. His very survival depended on his being able to continue to please Tabitha.

The female bodyguards were smirking, aware of his predicament. Once, a long time ago, long before any of them had been born, men had ruled and had used women as they saw fit. Now, in the Matriarchy of Fem-Utopia, the shoe was on the other foot. It was a delicious thought for all womankind.