Females of Vulvar Read online

  “Why must all men of this world remain slaves with no standing, no rights of self-determination?” I asked Amanuensis. “Cannot females rule without stripping males of all dignity?”

  “Surely, you know the answer,” he laughed. “Before the great war, the historians tell us that men severely oppressed females and subjected them to harsh treatment under the former patriarchal system. After the war, females became the ascendant majority and seized power. Whenever a formerly oppressed class gains power, they are loath to even suffer, having that power diluted, much less threatened. Naturally, subjecting to oppression the class they perceive as a threat to their power, they consider the most effective way females can preserve the status quo. Thus they enslave men who are perceived as having no value beyond service to females.”

  “Still over time it seems the proportion of males would naturally increase to sufficient numbers to improve their circumstances, by force if necessary,” I said.

  Amanuensis’s eyes twinkled as he erupted into laughter. “You fail young Hart to distinguish between the data to be interpreted and the interpretation of the data, as you choose to interpret it. Your interpretation preserves as much as possible the thinking of the Earth. The ratio of females to males on Vulvar is artificially kept at 7:3. Excess males are aborted or euthanized at birth to maintain the established proportions. The number of males on this world will never approach that of females.”

  “Even so, if males organized sufficiently for their common good, they might overcome the disparity of numbers and force more equality with a widespread revolt.”

  “You forget to factor in that Vulvarian males are not like the males of your world, young Hart. Except for the fortunate few like you that are selected for breeding, they emasculate the rest of us at a young age. Those who are lucky enough to avoid abortion or euthanization. My testes were removed when I reached puberty at age twelve, once the doctors tested me and deemed me useless for reproduction. That is the custom of Vulvar. Emasculated and effeminate males become subservient and compliant, which makes it easy for females to control us. Eunuchs are not given to staging revolts.”

  Amanuensis, it seemed had finished speaking. He rose and gripped me by the shoulders, held me for a moment, and smiled.

  “You must let go of your Earth man predisposition toward the desire to be treated equitably. On Vulvar, you will never be the equal of any female. Forget the foolish contemplation of revolts for your own sake. If a female were to overhear you even speaking of such a thing, your very life would become forfeit once she speedily reported it to the authorities. There is no possibility of you ever escaping this world and returning home to Earth. You must resolve yourself to learning and accepting the customs and practices here. They will impose those upon you for the rest of your life.”

  “That’s very difficult to do when you’ve known the alternative,” I said.

  “That does not change your circumstances, young Hart.”

  The door to the chamber slid aside, and in strode Keve. Besides the rigorous daily course of academic instruction I received from Amanuensis, two hours each day he handed me off to Keve, my fitness tutor. Keve subjected me to intense physical fitness training that included swimming, running, and calisthenics. I didn’t mind it. In truth, fitness training was my favorite part of the day. The more fit I became, the less the stronger gravity of Vulvar affected me.

  Keve did not speak English. It forced me to communicate with him in Vulvarian, which also helped accelerate my mastery of the language. Keve performed all the workouts with me and seemed more of a workout buddy than a taskmaster. Soon I considered him also a friend.

  After bidding Amanuensis farewell, Keve and I departed for the gymnasium.

  Chapter 4

  The Slave Market

  I now inform you that what I write here are my own true experiences on a strange world called Vulvar, where I was taken as a captive. But you will not offend me should you choose to disbelieve me. In your place, I too might also refuse to believe a tale so fantastical that it must have only been something conceived by an unrestrained imagination. Given the paltry amount of evidence I can offer in this narrative, you may feel obliged to reject my testimony altogether or, at the very least, consider it only a fanciful tale of fiction. That there is so little possibility my story will be believed likely explains why the Goddess-Queens have allowed it to be recorded. Whatever the reason for their forbearance, I am grateful they have allowed me to record my experiences because I feel compelled to tell this story. I have seen things of which I must speak, even if my narrative is not believed by those who read it.

  On the evening of my sixtieth day of captivity on Vulvar, as was her habit, my mother, Laena, visited me in my apartment. We shared a meal and a bottle of Irie as I told her of the progress I had made in my studies earlier that day. Rather than reinforcing some topic or another that Amanuensis had drilled me on, my mother informed me she had news to share.

  I immediately felt tense and anxious, as if a knot was growing and twisting within my belly, for I was certain I knew of what she was about to tell me. I felt sure the day I had long dreaded had arrived. Sadly, my prediction proved correct.

  “Tobias, your time with Amanuensis, is at an end,” my mother said. “Tomorrow, you will begin the next phase of your life on Vulvar.”

  “I will become a slave?”

  “Yes, my son. You have received more education and training in the ways of this world than most who are brought here from Earth. But, my influence is not without limits. Tomorrow an owner will acquire you.”

  “But, mother, why can you not acquire me yourself if I must remain on this world?”

  “It is not permitted, Tobias. We’ve been over it already. Owning a blood relative is prohibited by our customs and laws.”

  Even though she had not yet explained to me why she left me behind on Earth when she returned to Vulvar years before, I had released my anger and had forgiven her. Yet now, my anger was kindled anew. I’d learned from Amanuensis and Keve that my mother was a powerful and highly regarded official in Thiva. She sat on the council and headed the Ministry of Security and Defense. Some believed the council would elect her Anax someday. She was a member of the high Kohtuhree of Warriors, second only to the Kohtuhree of Priestesses, the highest kohtuhree of Vulvar. It seemed a woman in her position could do more than simply allow her only son to be bought and sold like a common slave.

  “How does it all work?” I said.

  “It’s a simple auction. The slavers will display you before potential buyers. Those interested will submit a bid. The highest bidder will become your owner. You will become a part of her household.”

  “And so it begins,” I said.

  “Yes,” my mother said. “I’m not without sympathy for your feelings in this matter. I wish you had never been brought here. But you were. As you have learned, this is the fate of men on this world. It is entirely up to you to make the best or worst of your circumstances now. If you prove yourself valuable to your owner, you will be treated well and be rewarded. If you do not, your life will become even more miserable than you can imagine, and I will be unable to do anything to help you.”

  “What of the breeding, the purpose it seems I was brought here for?”

  “Your owner will register you with reproductive services. On your first visit to a clinic, you will be examined and then will submit to the first collection of seminal fluids. Afterward, you will be required to report to the clinic as the need for further collections dictates.”

  “My owner will be agreeable to all this?”

  “Yes, she cannot oppose it. The Goddess-Queens have designated you for breeding. Also, she will receive a stipend from the clinic for each collection. In time she will recoup her original investment in you while keeping you as her property.”

  “What’s not to like about that arrangement,” I said with a mirthless chuckle.

  “This will be our last visit for a while,” my mother said. “Once you�
�ve settled in and have mastered your duties, I’m certain your owner will allow us to visit from time to time.”

  I nodded, fearing my emotions would betray me if I tried to speak. The thought of being unable to see and speak with my mother after becoming accustomed to our daily visits was yet another hard blow.

  The visit concluded, my mother departed for her home, I retired to bed filled with anxious thoughts about what the following day might bring. I also felt sadness at the thought I’d no longer be spending my days with Amanuensis. And what of Keve I wondered, besides Amanuensis, the only other friend I had on Vulvar. Perhaps I’d never see him again either.

  ◆◆◆

  Early the following morning, just after breakfast, two government officials, both attractive women, arrived at my apartment to escort me to the market square for the auction. I was told to bring along any belongings as I would not be returning to the apartment where I’d lived for the past sixty days. My meager possessions comprised one extra tunic, a toothbrush, comb, and a book Amanuensis had given me as a gift. One woman packed my things in a canvas carrying bag.

  We boarded a public conveyance in front of the building. It was an animal-drawn passenger coach with steel wheels that a pair of draft animals somewhat akin to oxen pulled along a narrow-gauge steel track. The animals, called Veovarks, appeared to weigh somewhere between 1,800 to 2,200 pounds and stood about 2 meters high at the shoulders. I estimated their length to be around 3.5 meters. The single horn growing up and out of their pig-like snouts and their thick grey skin, which looked almost like plated armor, made me think more of the rhinoceros back on Earth than oxen. They possessed great strength as they seemed to pull the conveyance effortlessly.

  Veovarks appeared docile animals, though perhaps that was only a product of having been domesticated. I’d learned of them in my studies and knew they were widely used as draft animals on Vulvar for towing all manner of wheeled contraptions. It still struck me as odd that on a planet where interplanetary space travel technology existed, the Vulvarians relied on what by the standards of Earth was ancient transportation technology.

  As the streetcar plodded slowly along, I glanced at my escorts. Like all the Vulvarian women I’d seen thus far, both were extraordinarily attractive and both taller and more muscular than the average female on Earth. Looking at the women, it occurred to me how enjoyable spending time on Vulvar might be under different circumstances if males and females interacted similarly to the ways of Earth. The only thing I achieved by entertaining those kinds of thoughts was feeling increased discomfort in my loins thanks to the damnable tube.

  It took about twenty minutes for us to arrive at the market square, which seemed to me right at the center of the city. It was by far the farthest I’d traveled away from my apartment building. The first few days, my mother had escorted me to the building where Amanuensis was quartered. Afterward, she allowed me the freedom to walk there and back from my apartment on my own each morning and afternoon. It had required a walk of fewer than five minutes each way.

  After disembarking from the coach, my escorts directed me first to a blacksmith shop on the square. There a blacksmith fastened a steel ring about my neck as a collar similar to the one the young male domestic servant wore who had brought me meals at the apartment. In the center of the larger ring, there was a smaller ring on a swivel. I speculated it was meant either for the attachment of a leash or some other restraint. Perhaps my owner would leash me and take me for regular walks like a pet dog, I thought wryly.

  Once the collar was securely in place, my escorts took me to the auction site. There they gave me into the custody of another woman who was even taller, broader, and more muscular. She took my belongings from one official and then directed me to pass through an entryway into a large building that looked like a warehouse. After a short walk, we came to a large steel cage at the center of the building.

  Through the bars, I saw about a dozen other men. Some were leaning against the bars, and others were sitting on wooden benches or on the floor. To my surprise, all were stark naked save for a steel collar like the one I was wearing and sandals. It was then, to my horror, that the guard demanded in Vulvarian my tunic. The manner of her speech conveyed that she would brook no argument.

  Sheepishly, I unbelted the tunic, pulled it off over my head, and handed it to her. She stuffed the tunic and belt into the canvas bag containing my other belongings then produced a large key which she used to unlock the cell door. Opening the door, she motioned with a jerk of her head that I should enter, which I did. She then closed the door behind me and locked it.

  Inside the cage, I found an unoccupied spot where I could lean against the bars. All the bench spaces were taken. The cleanliness of the floor looked suspect. I had no intention of resting my bare butt on it.

  After about an hour, perhaps a little more, the guard returned accompanied by a half dozen of her cohorts. All wore short swords in leather sheaths belted around their waists. The large woman that had escorted me to the cage unlocked the door. After opening it, she motioned for us all to come forth. She arranged us in a single line with her colleagues split evenly to either side of us. They then marched us out of the building into the actual square.

  A short walk later, they halted our troupe about 25 meters from a small raised wooden dais. A throng of women surrounded it. Using a wax marking implement and walking down the line, one guard inscribed large black Vulvarian numerals on the chest of each man. Looking down, I recognized the numeral 9 on my chest.

  One by one, a pair of guards escorted each of us to the dais. The large group of women would part each time to allow the guards and the next man up to pass. When it was my turn, making my way through the narrow gap in humanity, I felt more than one hand slapping me on the backside, always followed up by raucous laughter and catcalls from the women in the immediate vicinity. One guard even looked at me sideways and snickered after one particularly loud slap. After stepping up onto the dais, a guard motioned for me to turn in a circle so the women surrounding the dais could see me from all angles. Wearing nothing but the tube, collar, and sandals, I felt sure I was blushing from head to toe by the time I’d completed the revolution. My humiliation was complete. I felt like a male stripper.

  The bids started coming fast and furious. The auctioneer standing in front of the dais kept pushing the bids higher and higher. I recall wondering if men designated as breeding stock brought higher prices than the eunuchs. Back in the cage, I had glanced furtively around at the other men, but while taking care not to make eye contact or appear as though I was staring. I’d only observed one other man wearing a tube like mine. A fellow breeder. The other men I saw who were in positions that offered the right view were all missing their testes.

  The bidding ended. The winning bid had been identified. A guard motioned for me to step down beside her. Being unfamiliar with slave auctions, I did not understand whether I should have felt flattered by the price paid. A startlingly attractive woman wearing a long white tunic trimmed in gold walked up and stopped in front of me. She looked to be about my age, perhaps two or three years younger or older.

  The woman was bald, the first such woman I’d encountered on Vulvar. It was obvious that she purposely shaved her head. The lack of hair did nothing to diminish her uncommon beauty. The woman deposited a stack of Vulvarian coins into the outstretched hand of the guard beside me. The guard quickly counted the coins, then nodded to the woman and handed her the small canvas bag containing my belongings. My new owner looked me in the eye and handed me the bag.

  “I am your mistress,” she said in Vulvarian.

  I nodded.

  “Say it, slave,” she said impatiently.

  “You are my mistress,” I said, hoping that was what she intended.

  She seemed satisfied with my response.

  “You are my slave,” the woman said.

  “I am your slave,” I said.

  “Mistress,” she said.

  “I am your slave,
mistress,” I said.

  She seemed annoyed that I wasn’t catching on fast enough to suit her.

  “What is your name?” the woman said.

  “Tobias Hart,” I said.

  The woman slapped me hard across the face with her open hand.

  “You are a slave, you have no name,” she said.

  “I am a slave, mistress,” I said.

  Pointing to the bag, she told me to put on clothing. I quickly and happily complied with her instructions. Once I’d belted the tunic, the woman snapped a delicate silver chain to the center ring on my collar, then without a word turned and started walking. I hurried to catch up before the chain drew taught.

  Chapter 5

  My Mistress

  Outside the square, we boarded a coach like the one I’d ridden over on from my apartment. I assumed I was being taken to what was to become my new home, though my new owner didn’t deem it necessary to tell me anything. The woman sat down on a bench after pointing to the floor. I nodded and squatted on my haunches. The woman stood up and, with a quick sweep of her right foot, took my feet out from under me, causing me to sit down hard on the floor on my backside.

  “Kneel, slave,” my mistress said.

  “Yes, mistress.”

  I pushed up off the floor and got on my knees. Looking satisfied, the woman sat back down.