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.