Females of Vulvar Read online

  My hand clenched the chalice tightly, provoking the wine to splash within the vessel. Though I found implausible the physical existence of absentee divinities, existent but remote, perhaps on this world, such truly did exist. I drained the last of the heady wine from the metal chalice.

  “Now answer my most pressing questions,” I said after a time. “Why was I brought here? What is to be my future?”

  My mother got that faraway look in her eyes again for a moment.

  “First, let me say it was not my doing,” she said. “As much as I have longed these many years to see the face of my son once again, I did not want you brought here. I strenuously argued against it when the decision was debated until I was silenced.”

  “Then whose decision was it?”

  “The Goddess-Queens decided the matter,” my mother said. “I concealed your existence for almost thirty Earth years. Recently, I underwent minor surgery. The surgeon discovered I had at one time given birth. I am not of a class permitted to bear children, so the discovery immediately raised suspicion. The surgeon reported it to the government. I resisted answering the questions from the government officials about giving birth to you as long as I could hold out. But, as mentioned, we have superior technology in many areas. That includes the area of the mind. They accessed my mind and all the information about you therein.”

  “And, I became the target of an acquisition mission?”

  “Yes.”

  “But why?”

  “Because you are one-half Vulvarian, the Goddess-Queens decided you could not continue living on Earth. While the races are similar, some differences can be detected by doctors even with the medical technology available on Earth. The Goddess-Queens fear that someday, Earthlings may harness the necessary interstellar space travel technology to reach Vulvar, and they do not want them coming here. As long as the existence of Vulvar remains unknown to them, they will have no reason to seek out and attempt to visit this world.”

  I looked at my mother but didn’t speak.

  “I’m sorry this happened, Tobias,” she said. “But, I fear it was simply your destiny. You must make the most of this. Perhaps your life here won’t be all you intended it to be on Earth, but you can still have a good life here.”

  “How will I make my living here?” I said. “Are there opportunities to use my knowledge and education from Earth to some useful purpose?”

  “You will find things far different on this world from what you have been accustomed to, Tobias. Our society is organized on a hierarchical system where your station in life is determined at birth by hereditary transmission. Social status and occupation are passed down based upon your ancestral heritage.”

  “You’re speaking of a class system,” I said. “Social stratification.”

  “Precisely,” my mother said. “Hereditary social classes distinguished by relative degrees of social status and occupation. Here your class is called your kohtuhree. There are High Kohtuhrees and Low Kohtuhrees.”

  “Can you give me examples?”

  “The High Kohtuhrees begin with the Kohtuhree of Priestesses, our religious class. Second, comes the Kohtuhree of Warriors, our martial class. The third highest is the Kohtuhree of Builders. In the Low Kohtuhrees is the Kohtuhree of Merchants, those involved in commerce. The last is Kohtuhree of Commoners, the lowest class composed of the rest of free society, not part of the enfranchised classes.

  “What is your kohtuhree, mother?”

  “I am of the warriors.”

  “Then, since it is a system of hereditary transmission, I am to become part of the martial class? As your son, I will be a member of the Kohtuhree of Warriors?”

  My mother shook her head, looking at me kindly.

  “No, my son,” she said. “It is not permitted for males to become warriors. Recall what I mentioned before. Men are not permitted to hold any position of responsibility or authority. Kohtuhrees are for females only. There is no kohtuhree for males.”

  “Then what do men do on Vulvar?”

  “They perform manual labor,” my mother began. “They till the soil, plant, and harvest crops. They perform domestic duties and chores. They work in shops and markets.”

  “Mother!” I said. “I just completed a doctorate in archaeology. I was meant to begin a professorship at a prestigious California university in mere weeks. You’re telling me my life’s work is now to be a ditch digger, a farmer, a shopkeeper, or god forbid, a housemaid?”

  My mother breathed out a long sigh.

  “Actually, you are not going to be assigned work in any of those areas. I’m confident you will become the property of someone who will provide you secondary employment in an area that will utilize your knowledge and advanced education.”

  “Become the property of someone?” I said. “You mean to say owned by someone? A slave?”

  “Yes, Tobias,” she said. “That is the custom here. On Vulvar, males exist for only one purpose, to serve females. All men are owned. You like every man will become the property of a free woman.”

  The idea that I was to become the slave to some woman I didn’t even know was beyond distressing, not to mention mind-boggling. I got up and began to pace the room.

  “Hold on,” I said. “You said someone might provide me with secondary employment in an area commiserate with my knowledge and education. Does that mean I have some other primary purpose beyond that?”

  My mother nodded.

  “Yes, because you are my son, half Vulvarian, you are uniquely qualified for a particular function. In part, it is why you were brought here to this world.”

  “And what function might that be?”

  “Breeding,” my mother said quietly, averting her gaze.

  “Excuse me?” I said. “I thought you said breeding, but I am sure I misheard you.”

  “No, you heard me correctly. You were tested on the ship while in transit. You have precisely the genetic traits most valued here and are quite capable of fathering healthy offspring.”

  “Just when I thought being forced into slavery was as barbaric as it gets, now you’re telling me my primary function will be having sex with strange women to impregnate them?”

  “No, Tobias, not exactly,” my mother said. “The procreation rituals used on Earth are considered barbaric here. It is never permitted for a male to copulate with a female. Your seminal fluid will be harvested regularly and then introduced into a female’s cervix or uterine cavity to achieve a pregnancy through artificial insemination.”

  “My god, mother! I will not serve as a sperm donor on demand!”

  “Refusal isn’t an option, Tobias. Any failure to cooperate will be severely punished. You will only succeed in making your own life miserable if you resist. And, in the end, they will harvest your semen, anyway.”

  I couldn’t find words to say in response to that. I couldn’t believe my mother stood there and spoke to me like I was a dull child about the harvesting of my semen without my consent as if it was the most normal thing imaginable.

  “I know it won’t be ideal for you on this world, Tobias. But, in your own self-interest, you must make the best of your present circumstances.”

  “I’m neither a prize bull nor a stud horse, mother,” I said. “Maybe I’ll just take matters in hand and keep my sperm count permanently too low to be of any use.”

  “Please, Tobias, don’t be coarse,” my mother said. “Besides, that has already been considered, and soon you will be rendered incapable of that.”

  “What? How?”

  “A physician and a medical technician will be arriving here soon. They will attach a device to your body, which prevents masturbation.”

  “What device?”

  “It is called the tube,” she said. “It is a device constructed of a metal similar to what is known as chromium on earth. It is virtually indestructible but lightweight enough for comfort. Once attached, the tube will only be removed when you are called upon to provide your semen for collection. Afterward, it wi
ll immediately be reattached.”

  “You’re speaking of some type of enforced chastity device?”

  My mother nodded. Though it seemed pointless, I intended to continue railing against the injustice planned for me, but suddenly the entry door whisked open once again. Two women wearing lab coats over long white tunics trimmed in green entered, and cordially greeted my mother. One set a leather bag on the bed.

  “This is my cue to leave,” my mother said, leaning in to kiss me on the forehead. “But, we will get together again soon to talk, and I’ll answer more of your questions.”

  With that, my mother departed through the sliding door and was lost from sight as it closed behind her.

  “I am Doctor Thokrera,” one of the lab-coated women said, producing a stainless steel hypodermic from the leather bag. “This is my assistant, Medical Technician Doiesia. Face the sleeping couch and bend forward at the waist. I will sedate you before we start the procedure.”

  “I don’t wish to be sedated,” I said. “I want to know what is being done to me.”

  “The sedation is not optional,” Thokrera said.

  “And, if I refuse?”

  “Security officers will be called to restrain you, and then I will administer the sedative.”

  “Fine,” I said.

  Stepping over to the bed, I placed my hands on it and leaned forward at the waist as Thokrera had instructed. I felt angry with myself for not pressing the issue further. I might have felt better if I’d forced Dr. Thokrera to call for security and had traded a few punches with them before surrendering my dignity. Of course, I realized the security officers would undoubtedly be women, and I’d never raise a hand to a woman. Resistance would have been only an exercise in futility.

  I felt the tunic being raised in the back and felt the redness creeping into my cheeks and ears, knowing that two women I’d never met had an unobstructed view of my bare ass. Then I felt the pinch of the needle entering my flesh as Thokrera jammed it into my backside. I felt the sensation of cool liquid being injected.

  “Good,” Thokrera said. “Now, lie down on the sleeping couch on your back. The sedative takes effect very quickly, and I don’t wish you to fall and injure yourself.”

  I climbed onto the bed without complaint and lay on my back. Thokrera was right. The effect of the sedative was almost instantaneous. My vision started to blur, and then I lost consciousness.

  ◆◆◆

  When I woke, I felt a bit disoriented. But soon, it all started coming back. The memories of talking with my mother for the first time in thirty years. The procedure the medical women had inflicted on me.

  Glancing at the windows, I observed it was now night as there was no sunshine streaming in. Vaguely I was aware of some discomfort in my groin. It wasn’t unbearable, but it was noticeable.

  Gingerly, I took hold of the hem and raised the tunic that someone had carefully pulled down to preserve my modesty. And there it was. A shiny metal tube now enclosed my penis. The women had attached the tube to a matching metal ring encircling the base of my penis and scrotum.

  The tube and ring seemed securely joined, but I could see no visible locking device. I lifted the device so I could see the tip. There was a hole, which was the outlet for urine. But there was something just beyond the hole inside the metal tube I couldn’t identify.

  Sitting up, I threw my legs over the edge of the bed and slowly stood up. After a moment of dizziness passed, I seemed fit to walk. It occurred to me I hadn’t yet sought the bathroom in my quarters. Along one wall, I saw the outline of another doorway. Walking to it, I placed my fingers into the metal pull and slid the door open. Stepping inside the opening, I found a spacious bath complete with a toilet, a sink with a mirror above it, and a tub. The floors, walls, and ceiling were of laid beige tile.

  The room was brightly lit. I leaned in towards the sink and positioned the end of the tube where within the mirror's reflection, I could see inside through the urination opening with the better lighting. What I saw sickened me. Not only had the women attached the tube to my genitals, but they had also pierced the tip of my penis. It now sported a small shiny metal ring. Somehow the ring was attached internally to the tube. It seemed my mother had been right. No way was I going to get the tube off, not without sacrificing a generous chunk of my penis glans in the bargain. Feeling sick at my stomach, I returned to the bed and lay back down.

  My mother had spoken to me at some length about the world on which I found myself. But there was much more for me to learn and know about this strange place. While it had been pleasant seeing my mother again, learning that she was alive after all the years that had passed, I felt distressed and despondent as I pondered my sickening fate. Was I never to see my native Earth again? Was I condemned to remain here on Vulvar for the rest of my life? It seemed a world that was both cruel and barbaric, where women ruled with an iron fist. A planet where society considered men unfit for anything more than serving women as slaves.

  Mercifully, at last, I drifted off into a deep but troubled sleep.

  Chapter 3

  The Teacher

  Amanuensis leaned back in his chair and peered up at me with his squinting, deep-set brown eyes from behind the dusty leather-bound books stacked like cord wood on his ancient battered desk.

  “Hail, young Hart,” he said

  “Hail, teacher,” I said.

  The older man stroked the bearded chin of his hawk-like face, framed by his long gray hair. He wore a frayed, often but poorly mended blue tunic.

  “Are you here to learn today, young Tobias?” Amanuensis chided. “Or are you here only to continue tormenting me with your slothful ineptitude?”

  “I don’t know, teacher,” I said laughingly.

  “Have I nothing better to do than wasting time tutoring the likes of you?” Amanuensis said with a look of distress.

  He waved his hand, hopelessly toward the bookshelves behind him.

  “Have I not a thousand books gathering dust, unread and unstudied?” he said. “Why must I be an imbecile afflicted with an imbecile? For what crime is your mother scourging me by sending her dull-witted son to me for tutoring?”

  I laughed again.

  “I know not, teacher,” I said with a wink.

  Despite his peculiarities, Amanuensis was an incomparable teacher and gifted linguist. Though he spoke to me as if in actual despair, I’d long since seen through his eccentricities. We began each day in the same fashion with his pretense of berating me for being a hapless dullard. Yet I found myself drawn to the man. I admired his love for learning, and I knew behind his feigned frowns and outbursts of exasperation was a kind heart and an endearing sense of humor.

  He was a slave like every man on Vulvar. A slave, as I too was destined to become. Yet Amanuensis had fashioned himself into one of the finest scholars on the planet. As a slave, he could not teach at the university. Instead, he researched the ancient books for the female professors who gave the lectures. Through the research, he self-educated himself.

  It was from my mother that Amanuensis had learned English. Most Vulvarians would have considered it a worthless language since it was spoken nowhere on the planet. But, Amanuensis had been keen to master it, apparently only for the delight of seeing how living thoughts could be expressed in a different form. While he spoke English with a distinct Vulvarian accent, having a tutor with whom I could communicate in my own tongue from the outset sped up my Vulvarian education.

  My mother sent me to Amanuensis during the days so he could teach me the language of Vulvar, its history and legends, its geography and economic system, and its social structures and customs. In the evening when she visited me in my apartment, my mother took up where Amanuensis left off. We discussed what I’d learned, and she reinforced those things she felt it most important for me to know. She also provided the opportunity for me to practice speaking the Vulvarian language. Through the tutoring provided by Amanuensis and my mother, I learned all I needed to master or as much o
f it as I was able in the time they allotted me.

  I had learned that the planet Vulvar is the sixth planet from its sun and the only astronomical object known to harbor life in its fairly small solar system of six other planets. It is about 4.5 times the size of Earth, and its gravity is about 3.5 times that of my home planet. That explained why I became fatigued so quickly when moving about when I first arrived.

  While sentient life is rare in its solar system, I learned that Vulvar has plenty of it. Birds, reptiles, mammals, and even fish. Not all life forms are as intelligent as others, but sentient nonetheless.

  Survival is always highest on the list of priorities of any organism, which demands reproduction. The organisms on Vulvar are no different in that respect. That was part of the reason they brought me here.

  Because of a little-understood genetic defect, great numbers of Vulvarian males are born sterile. Thus, Vulvarians relied on acquiring males from Earth for breeding to propagate and ensure the survival of their species.

  The plant-like organisms on this planet are primarily shrubs and smaller trees, supported by small flowers, grasses, and fungi on the bottom layer. Tall trees make up only a small portion of the plant life on this planet.

  A single day on Vulvar lasts 32 hours and a year, 189 days. The planet has 9 continents, which make up thirty-nine percent of the planet’s mass. Water, mostly oceans, covers the remaining sixty-one percent of the planet. Two moons orbit the planet, and Vulvar itself orbits a main-sequence star in a slightly elliptical orbit.

  I learned that I lived in the city of Thiva, in the region of Rodos. On Vulvar, regions are the equivalent of countries on Earth. There are no centralized governments at the regional level on Vulvar. The city is the basic political division on the planet. Each city is a self-governing entity unto itself in a system that could be likened to that of the city-states of ancient Greece.

  Each Vulvarian city has a governing council of citizens chosen by lot and who serve a limited term of office. Only females are considered citizens, eligible to serve on the council. Only females vote in city referendums. The council is headed by a chief executive called the Anax, the Vulvarian word best translated into English as “the matriarch.” The Anax is elected by the council to five-year terms. She is the head of the council and also directly supervises the appointed heads of all the various city ministries; courts and justice, health and welfare, agriculture and trade, and the ministries for security and defense.