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The Pink Ch. 1

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Eric looked down at the brown-speckled pill in the palm of his hand with guilty indecision. The “vitamin” was one of the last dozen or so that he had. He started to pick the herbal supplement up from his palm and then hesitated as he stared at his hands. He felt his body tremble slightly with the small step of betrayal he was about to take. These were the same hands that just moments ago had been sliding along the smooth skin of his mistress’s writhing body. These fingers had been interwoven with hers as they had made love in a rush of fantastic desire. Their bodies had been entwined in a complicated maze of arms and legs. They had lost themselves in a thrusting embrace of unbridled passion.

The fact that their tryst was a forbidden love that broke new protocols and old taboos had made the experience even that more delicious. As Eric continued to look at the little pill he licked his lips briefly and could taste her lust on his still wet lips. He shrugged off the guilt with a dedication to gender survival and quickly swallowed the pill. He cracked his knuckles and sat down at the computer in Lady Shann’s well appointed den. He booted up the computer and looked about the room reflecting on the masculinity of the leather and oak. He chuckled remember that the word masculine had been struck from most orthodox dictionaries over two years ago. It helped him with his struggle when he thought of the dictionary. Eric knew he was a good “muppy” and felt really bad about what he was about to do, but it had to be done.

“I can barely remember what life was like before the revolution. My vaguest memory is of the jokes I once heard about how PMS would have been cured a century ago if men had to experience it. PMS was cured two years ago, not because men had to experience it, but because women have seized control of every facet of society, including medicine.”

Eric’s fingers stumbled across the keyboard. He was out of practice. He counted himself lucky that he could even remember how to boot the computer up, much less sign onto the net and hide his manifesto in an encrypted HTML code. He became angry with his dulled mind and clumsy fingers. He knew it would take time for the pill to counteract the effects of the “PINK,” but he also knew time was short. He could feel his nerves and muscles protest this act of rebellion. His hands seemed to think that they were far more suited to bringing Lady Shann pleasure. They seemed to ache to touch her; to roll about the soft rolling hills and valleys of her small, tender, round body.

He had been her “houseboy” since the revolution. He had secured this position months ago when she had discovered that he was highly trained in Tantric and Shiatsu massage. He had always brought her great satisfaction and relaxation during their sessions. Of course her bedchamber slave, Blayless, had always enjoyed the true effects of his ministrations, until this afternoon. Before today, Eric’s skilled fingers would coax Lady Shann to the brink of bliss and then she would dismiss him and summon her bedchamber slave who appeared to be carved out of Onxy by Micheangelo himself. Today had been quite different, and Eric could not help but to wonder if her humiliation of the ebony Adonis at dinner was because she had discovered a new toy for her bedroom. He leaned back in the chair and looked at the words on the screen. He wondered how much of this innate desire to please her was artificial and how much of it was deep seated in his soul from a far earlier time, when he had known her in a totally different context. Thanks to the numbing effects of the “PINK,” he could not really be sure.

Eric heard some laughter coming from upstairs. It reminded him of the urgency of his mission and he went back to work, his fingers moving a little more smoothly. “The Eugenic war had occurred four years ago. It seems odd that it is even called a war. It lasted less than the blink of an eye. The entire superstructure of society had been overturned when a radical feminist group known only as Amazon 6, had unleashed an unholy biological and genetic war. While most people would agree that women deserved equal treatment and fairness, I do not think anyone, with the possible exception of radical feminist groups such as Amazon 6, would have wished this on our world.

I even recall that on Pink Tuesday (this is what the women chose to call it and when they use this term it is always said with knowing smiles and giggles, but no man has yet to understand the private joke) I had been eating lunch with a few of the lady teachers I work with and we had been discussing the television show Seventh Heaven. The female characters on that show had been involved in political action for the horrible treatment of women in Afghanistan. Women in that country were treated canlı bahis worse than animals. Now worldwide, men have become pets for women. Men are forced to please them and serve them in every way imaginable. What is ironic, a few weeks before “Pink Tuesday,” most of the population had been worried about something called Y2K. No one saw this ironic twist of fate coming.”

Eric leaned back into the leather of Lady Shann’s plush desk chair. It smelled faintly of her. The Lady’s scent was imprinted on him at a deep level. So was her taste. It caused the memories of the afternoon to race back to him. He had brought so much pleasure to her with his skilled touch during the massage that he had begun to smell it rising from her loins. He had tried his best to ignore her writhing thighs and the fantasy images of thrusting his shaven head into her lap and clamping his lips on the excited folds of her flesh. His tongue had tingled with the anticipation of dipping into the very center of her essence and sampling her sweetness.

In the midst of his lurid thoughts a very powerful invasion entered his thoughts: It was not his place. He had shook the visions from his body several times and had tried to focus on massaging her. His hands tried to roll along her twisting body, but he found no safe place. She was fully aroused beneath his gently squeezing hands. She rolled slightly and the towel slipped from her ample breasts. The buds of her nipples were fully erect and she was breathing in quick little shudders. He had carefully replaced the towel and tried to move down her knees and shins to her feet. It had been too late. Pleasuring her with his gripping and swirling fingers had caused him to also become lost in the intoxicating orgasmic joy that seemed to splash about the bed chamber. He had hid his pleasure from her as best as he could, until, in the throes of her passion, she had reached for him. Her eyes had grown wide when she touched him as a lover for the first time. Eric had gazed into her eyes waiting for either instruction or invitation. He tried to read her expression and found a confused mixture of surprise, need, desire, and hunger. She seemed to look slightly worried about losing her self-control in the presence of her house slave, but her arousal quickly asserted itself over protocol.

He felt her fingers wrap around his own excitement in rather decisive, but curious motive. He closed his eyes as she stroked him, a rush of lust swirled in the very depth of his soul as fantasies, from both before and after the time of the “PINK” were fulfilled. He waited, wisely, for Lady Shann was infamous for teasing and torturing her servants. It could be both foolish and fatal for a man-slave to assert himself. Women were the dominant species now, and it left a generation of men confused at all levels of existence. Remembering his confused state of arousal and shame, Eric pushed forward in the chair and resumed typing.

“To this day, no one is really sure if the pathogen was airborne, or if it was in the water, but 90 seconds after the chemical had been released into the environment, women became instantly superior to men in both strength and mental capacity. It only took a few days for the incredible cultural upheaval to take place. Before long, men were seen about town serving women in every capacity. They seem to do this with dumb smiles on their faces. It was reminiscent of the old “Stepford” movies of the late seventies. The crueler of the women masters took to the fad of humiliating the male species by parading their favorite man-servants about town in collars with leashes. Often they even made the men sit at their feet and took to stroking their hair and patting their heads. Soon the term “Muppies” became trendy.”

Eric smiled at the word “muppy.” Lady Shann had clearly lost her control under the effect of his touch. Because he had been taking the secret pills he had found for a few weeks, he felt like the old idea of a man. When Shann had wrapped her fingers around his manhood and gazed up at the length and surge of his excitement with surprise, it took every ounce of reserve to not show his true self. He had struggled to remain in a near-eunuch state despite his desire to possess her and command her as she rolled about on the bed. He had looked down at her frenzied hand on his cock and without thinking he had started to move his stiffness towards her face. He caught himself before she sensed his desire to see her gurgle and struggle to control his maleness in her mouth. It was then that he realized overcoming the “PINK” might be possible. He seemed to recall a Greek play (Lystria or something) that had themes of gender control and the battleground had been the bedroom. He cursed his dulled wits as his fingers paused and hovered over the bahis siteleri keyboard. His diminished intelligence gave him inspiration to continue on the manifesto.

“I guess I am one of the lucky ones. I am merely a domestic servant. I have meant men with worse roles. Lady Shann had actually been a co-worker of mine before the revolution. We had taught in the same high school for years. While we were not intimately close friends, we had always shared mutual respect and a casual bantering sarcasm. Even with the influence of the “PINK,” at times it was easy to forget the new structure of society. It was difficult to call her by her Hyster name. Most women in this now matriarchal society refused to return to even their maiden names. Most women simply took a title based on their first name. Without exception, women everywhere became more dominant, but not all women were vicious and cruel. I suspect that Lady Shann had also remembered the past for she was actually very kind to me. Her previous husband Shawn suffered a worse fate, and I do not even want to think of the duties, Blayless now suffers through. I had in fact been eating lunch with the madam as the change occurred. Most men ended up becoming “pressed into service” by the female they were nearest to when the revolution began. Shawn had the poor misfortune of being only three feet from his mother-in-law when it all happened. Gene had just come in to the area we were eating lunch in and had been teasing the madam-I guess she got her revenge. I am not sure why I got so lucky, maybe it was because I always tried to treat my previous co-workers with respect, or maybe it was because I was always and excellent cook and homemaker for a male, either way, I am glad to be a simple “houseboy muppie.” Believe me, there are worse fates.”

Eric had always satisfied her with his massages, but this time he had gone beyond the task. He had wondered what this event might mean. Would he be promoted from houseboy to chamber slave? What would happen to Blayless, the Lady’s ebony lover? Had he performed better than Blayless? Eric felt his lap twitch as he remembered what it was like the first time he had entered Lady Shann’s writhing body. She was soft and pliable on the outside, but a grinding, edgy inferno on the inside. Her body seemed to gyrate around each of his thrusts. His hands slipped under her buttocks as he rammed into her. She yelped and whimpered at each of his powerful jabs and it had drove him insane to move inside her.

He could barely contain his desire to command her. He pulled out of her steamy excitement and scooted down her body when he sensed he was about to become even more aggressive and assertive as he made love to her. He pretended to be meek and submissive as he lowered himself along her body to her feet and kissed her toes in humble worship. She teased him with her feet and he sucked at her toes compliantly. She commanded him to pleasure her orally and he quickly complied, a secret plan unfolding in his mind.

Eric gently spread her thighs as he kissed her ankles. He drew butterfly licks and nips along her shins and his tongue flutter over her knees. Then he dipped his face to kiss first the insides of her knees and began to dart his tongue along the insides of her soft white thighs. He brushed his nose into her wet excitement and then began to pleasure her relentlessly. He searched out her clitoris with his flickering lips and probe deeper inside her with a waggling finger. He found her G-spot almost instantly and she cooed with pure giddy joy. He gave her a number of small orgasms and was planning on taking control of her and using her desire as a weakness but she shocked him when she commanded him to roll over on his back before mounting him and using him with reckless abandon. He remembered looking up at her closed eyes and grunting face. He could see this was not intimate lovemaking, but rather lustful accommodation. He felt used, and then realized his own gender had been objectifying women since the dawn of time. That did not make it any more palatable. Spent, she rolled away from him, not caring about his satisfaction. It was impossible to read what Lady Shann was thinking. She had dismissed him without making eye contact. She rolled to one side, made a small murmuring sigh and fell into a light slumber. Eric left, and decided to take advantage of the time that she would be sleeping.

“At first, people thought it was a mild side effect or an odd cosmic event that would pass in time. That was four years ago. I do not think the condition will be passing any time soon. In fact, I am beginning to wonder if things are actually continuing to spiral downward. My memory is becoming fuzzy. It seems I am becoming less intelligent as time passes. I no longer care to do the things bahis şirketleri I once found so exciting and adventurous. Learned helplessness is setting in. I care about little else than bringing satisfaction and joy to my master.

I shook some of the effects off because I was lucky enough to happen upon a supply of male vitamins and potency herbs that have rejuvenated some my “old-fashioned” maleness. It was enough to also open my eyes to the diabolical reason behind the female edict that all men are to be vegetarians-a diet of meat and cheese helps reverse the effect of the chemical and genetic effects of the “Pink.” My eyes also opened when I witnessed a very disturbing event. I have decided to record my thoughts just in case the next generation of men manage to discover a way to break free from this genetic yoke of oppression. I have had access to Lady Shann’s new computer, because I am in charge of keeping her home spotless. When I am not preparing food for her or seeing to her daily massages, I have the freedom to roam the estate as long as I am keeping it clean and tidy. Little does she know, that while I clean the home thoroughly paying great attention to detail, I clean fast.

This allows me a few precious moments to sneak in here and type my manifesto each day on this removable disk I keep hidden. My supply of vitamins is wearing out. I need to record as many of my thoughts as possible, but I need to also be careful. I shudder to think what will happen if she discovers my conspiracy. Just yesterday, she had paraded Gene Blayless in front of the other man servants. He was forced to wear lingerie and to pantomime embarrassing things. He was told to act like the old idea of a sexy woman in front of all of us. I excused myself from the scene when she made him wear a collar and beg like a dog before her feet. I was afraid that my fury, thanks to the vitamins, would cause me to slip and reveal my secret. What bothered me more than anything is that Gene seemed to like it. It was watching this horrible act that made me realize something:

The chemical change did more than make women more intelligent and physically superior-it made men dumb and animal like. We are becoming simpletons. We are lower than subservient; it has made us asexual.

What I find interesting is that sociological theory (something I once understood, but can now barely pronounce) has been set on its collective ear. Oppression is not merely something that is caused by immorality or injustice-it is caused by power. Power corrupts. The moment women became super intelligent and super strong-they oppressed men. All of them did. They were pathological and quick in this action. It was as if years of penned up frustration at gender inequality was unleashed instantly. Many men did not even survive “Pink Tuesday.” Vast numbers of them were executed immediately. The rest of us were tortured into serving the nearest woman’s every whim and impulse. It will always be burned into my brain that 90 seconds after the “Pink” hit us, I was licking the shoes of a woman co-worker, and asking what I could do for her next. No one had to talk them into taking advantage of the men around them; they did it with great gusto. I feel like that astronaut in the old sci-fi flick “Planet of the Apes.” The world is topsy-turvy, and I am even becoming seduced by it. I find myself nearly trembling with pleasure to clean and slave away for Madame Froehle. On one level it disgusts me, on another I take great pride in being her slave. I will do anything just to hear my new master whisper affectionate things to me and pat me on the head. I am her favorite “muppy.” I feel myself desiring to be ordered around by her, wishing that she would . . .”

Eric needed to stop this. The manifesto was supposed to help liberate other men. At one level he felt a small victory in making love to Shann, but on another, he was paranoid. What if Shann had let him discover the old Viagra and male herbal supplements, just to prove her dominance of him, while also making another love slave? The doubt was distracting. He started to lose his purpose. The power of the “Pink” flowing through his veins was incredible. He had managed to hack into the FEM-NET using her code and password, but now that he thought of it, it had been rather easy.

Eric looked down at the words he had just typed:

“I found what I think is the secret chemical equation in the pathogen. I am trying to think of a way to reverse it, but the idea seems to beyond my reach. What is haunting, is this nagging sense that I once was smart enough to do this, but that each passing day, the answer becomes more elusive.”

Just below those words he saw the faint smile of a Cheshire cat appear. It had an evil grin on its face. Suddenly his juvenile encryption failed and the words vanished. He heard a number of giggles come from the other room. Then a voice:

“Perhaps Eric and Blayless would like to dance for us, ladies. Should I call him out here?”

To Be Continued…

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