Chapter 1

Allen Gordon read the notice with some disbelief, never having heard of such a thing in his life. What the hell? What was the Council of Man, anyway? Allen didn’t know what this was about, but he knew that it made him very nervous indeed. The notice read, “Official Summons of the Council of Man Regarding Competency Examination of Master Allen Gordon, Esquire.” It was delivered by a process server, no less, notarized, witnessed, stamped, and sealed on official stationary. This worried Allen in no small way, as he wasn’t sure how his “competency” was to be examined by this “Council of Man,” and for what cause. What was the result if he failed? Would he be executed, jailed, exiled, or put on house arrest, maybe even committed to a psychiatric ward?

Allen reread the notice several times while his girlfriend, Whitney, walked into their house, one that they bought together on her suggestion. It was an investment, a commitment to their future together, she had reassured him, just as she had coaxed him into many other things over the past three months of their relationship. It was a very pleasant affair over all, even if she was a bit bossy and pushy, always getting her way on any issue of real controversy or doubt. Worse still, she tended to shop and hang out with a lot of friends that she insisted were just friends, but often partied pretty late into the morning hours on Friday nights. He often wondered if she was cheating on him, a thought that really upset him, as he was jealous and very faithful, never having cheated on her (or his other past girlfriends) in the past.

“Honey, what’s the matter? Didn’t you hear me ask you for help getting these bags into the house? Allie, are you okay?” Whitney gave him a very adorable frown and looked at him with some empathy as she sometimes did, whatever her flaws.

“No, sorry. I just got this notice, and if it’s a prank, it’s a very elaborate one, even bothering to use an official process server and all of the proper stationary,” Allen explained, making Whitney nod and shift her feet a bit.

“Um ... that’s not a prank. Haven’t you been watching the news, dear? The new government, they passed that law now, instituting the Council of Man to govern all matters pertaining to masculinity. They’ve delegated all of their power to the Council on anything of a masculine nature and having to do with manhood. It’s been in the papers and all of the talk shows. I’m surprised that you haven’t heard about it. The Manhood Act, they call it.

“Remember, after the Federal Government hit the debt ceiling, the tariffs caused a recession, and the global economy was imperiled enough that all countries signed the Global Reconstruction Treaty, putting the Directorate in control of all nations? It happened just two months ago. Don’t tell me that you missed it. You’re smarter than that,” Whitney alluded to the shadowy consortium of men who offered fiscal relief to the world in exchange for unchecked and unchallenged power.

“Yes, I was glad of it. The lay-offs were averted at work and I’ve been able to keep us afloat, especially with the cancellation and restructuring of so much personal debt. Your credit card debt is under control, despite your best efforts to undo that, and the house is all paid-off now. I might even get to retire someday, thanks to the entitlement reform that makes it more means-tested and solvent. I’ll have to reach sixty-seven first, but it’s better than no retirement at all. I just hadn’t heard of this most recent law, that’s all,” Allen demonstrated that he still paid some attention to current events and how they affected his life.

“Best of all, no more fucking wars and the environment’s on track to avoid collapse,” Whitney ignored Allen’s dig at her shopping expenses, even if she blushed a little as a result, “so, Allie, you just need to show up, look smart and sharp, do your best to impress them and show them the Allie Gordon that I already know and love.”

“Thanks for your confidence in me, though maybe we should cool it on calling me ‘Allie,’ for a bit, at least while this trial’s going on here. Will you stand with me at the hearing or whatever it’s called? Or did one of your other boyfriends or girlfriends already get you booked?” Allen acted very jealous now.

“Oh, don’t be like that, Allie! You know that you’re the only girl for me!” Whitney teased him in a way that was meant to reassure him, but didn’t do much for his ego right then.

“Cute,” Allen rolled his eyes at that remark.

“I know that you are,” Whitney said as she slapped him on the tush, “now, come on, girlfriend, help me out with the bags and tell me more about your day while I buy us a pizza to get you to stop being such a Debbie Downer. I’ll even let you use your clit to fuck me tonight, too! And, of course, I’ll be there for as much of your trial as they’ll allow me.”

“Thanks,” Allen tried to repress his growing annoyance with the way that Whitney spoke to him as if he were one of her girlfriends or something.

Lately, Whitney had reduced the vanilla, mainstream sex to the bare minimum, while hardly denying him pleasure in other ways. She sometimes dressed up in a corset for various reasons, strapped on a dildo to peg him, let him eat her pussy and ass as much as he wished, and rimmed him without hesitation. Blowjobs, however, were increasingly a thing of the past, as were handjobs, and forget about sodomizing her, even though she plugged his backdoor often. He didn’t know if she was just experimenting with other forms of sexuality or if she was under the control of some guy who amused himself by restricting Allen’s sex life.

Worst of all, Allen thought as he helped Whitney with her bags, she had taken to calling his dick a “clit,” nor had she called it anything in the past week or so. He didn’t know if she meant it as a joke, but it grated on him lately, and he wondered if she cared or even noticed. In many ways, Whitney was a great girlfriend, even pointed out girls (though also boys) that she thought were cute and sexy, implied that he could get some ass, etc. She also pampered him in her own way, such as buying him food now and then, rubbing him down, and yes, bathing him whenever they showered together. Yet even now, Allen felt as if something was off about their relationship, as if Whitney almost considered them a lesbian couple instead of a straight one.

Deep in thought, Whitney seemed to notice that something bothered Allen, so she pouted and put down the last bags to get him a glass of wine as well as one for herself. She rubbed his shoulders and began undressing him until she got him nice and nude, just as she liked. She picked up her cell phone, sent a text to someone, and then dialed the number for their favorite pizzeria. She put it on her credit card, what else, and then cupped Allen’s buns before disrobing as sensually as haste permitted in front of him. Now naked herself, Whitney slipped him enough tongue to make it abundantly clear that she gave a damn about him.

“Honey, let’s fuck ... right here, right now. While waiting for the pizza boy, okay? Man up! Or woman up, in your case!” Whitney teased Allen, pushing him onto the nearest chair to straddle him, giving him time in Heaven at last.

“Oh ... God, woman! It’s been sooooo ... long!” Allen groaned, as Whitney rode him, warning her, “I might cum faster than you expected. I haven’t been jacking off that much lately and you’ve neglected it, too.”

“Ah, have I neglected the clitty? I know, such a bad girlfriend, right, depriving the clitty of its stimulation ... here, let me make it up to you, baby girl!” Whitney persisted in speaking to Allen like a lesbian lover, even though he was clearly a man, “I’ve just had so much fun with the play and experiments, discovering this side of myself, that I’ve been loathe to go back to normal stuff lately. Forgive me, Allie, honey? Though you really should jill off more. It’s good for any girl to have healthy self-pleasure. A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do, right?”

“Ahhh ... argghh... !” Allen erupted inside Whitney, who licked her lips as she began kissing her way down to his cock.

“Oooohhh ... miss clitty! Here, let’s play with her a bit!” Whitney told him, “such a pretty clitty, rather big for a clit, but too small for a dick, of course. Don’t worry about cumming so fast. Everyone has their limits on endurance, right?”

“Whitney, will you please... , “ Allen tried to speak, but she put a finger to his lips and began giving him a hummer as if she always did, when it was very rare.

The balls ached from continued neglect, however, and Whitney still ignored them, focusing on his cock as if it really were a clit. She also toyed with his asshole and fondled his cheeks yet again, even caressed his taint, but stopped short of his sack. Allen felt his arousal grow again, much to his shock, but Whitney winked at him as he realized it. He fought not to get too hard yet, but she laughed and caressed his dick with her fingers and lips, even licking the head repeatedly to slather it with her spit.

The doorbell rang, so Whitney answered it, grabbing her purse, but refusing to put on a single stitch of clothing. Far from worrying about her nudity, Whitney put on a show, let the pizza man see as much of her as he wished, even leaning over just at the right angle to wave her ample breasts in his face. When that had gone on long enough, she wrote something down, paid, tipped, and walked back inside with the pizza. It was naturally Allen’s favorite toppings, as well as her own, and she put on some mood music to fit her horny attitude right at the moment.

“I don’t know about you, Kitty, but I’m a frisky pussycat. Come on, let’s have some more fun!” she told Allen as she stroked his cock again and took him inside her mouth.

Allen put the fact that she had flashed a complete stranger and called him “Kitty” out of his mind as much as he could, as he welcomed the attention to his cock. It sure felt like worship to him right then, something rare in their house lately, and he groaned with pleasure as she took him inside her hot and thirsty mouth. He tried to fuck her face, being in the mood to reassert his manhood, but she pushed him back and took over completely.

That was when it clicked. The way that Whitney serviced his dick was suspiciously the way that a lesbian might suck a clit, at least as he imagined it, and the intentional neglect of his balls felt too much like the recent roleplay of him being a woman or something. He tried to ask for some attention to his balls, but he was too far gone with the pleasure, even as she fingered his prostate and made him shudder his release. He exploded down her gullet, to which she licked her lips clean and gave him a snowball kiss with enthusiasm.

Allen tried to rise, but Whitney pushed him back into the chair, shoved her tits into his face, and smothered him for a bit with her lovely breasts. She acted as if she were nursing him for a bit, and then rushed to the bathroom to wash her hands for a moment. Returning, she plated the pizza and poured them some more wine, a nice, healthy Shiraz red. She even fed Allen, much to his shock, not letting him grab the slices without slapping his hands away.

Once Allen was stuffed and buzzed enough, as was Whitney, she actually picked him up and carried him to the bedroom, taking advantage of the fact that she was larger in build and weight than him. Allen had always been a slender fellow, though he didn’t mind at all that Whitney was a big and tall girl. It meant that there was so much more flesh to enjoy with her. It made corsets uncomfortable for her, but she never seemed to mind too much.

While Allen lay there, Whitney mounted him again and he found that he was hard as a rock despite cumming twice earlier. Her lovely bosom hung in his face as she rode him, encouraging him to cup her fine, plump bottom in his hands. He lay there, feeling like a rag doll as his girlfriend made up for weeks of relative denial by humping him senseless. He grunted and panted as he tried to keep up with his lover, especially as she sped up her strokes, her hips working overtime to drive him wild.

When Whitney creamed herself, her juices added to the glorious sloppiness of her already gooey snatch and it just made things go from difficult to impossible for Allen inside her slippery slit. It felt like butter around his dick, soft, wet, gentle, and warm around his prick. It felt like home. He couldn’t help himself at all. Allen shot out a load that impressed both of them, given that he just came twice before that night.

That was when Whitney flipped Allen over, handcuffed him to the bed, and put a ball gag in his mouth. He strained in panic against the cuffs, while she put her thigh harness around her waist and strapped on a rubber dildo to peg him. Applying a liberal amount of lube, Whitney grabbed Allen’s hips and sank her strap-on into his asshole from behind with little warning. He tried to scream into the gag, as the pain was intense, burning him from the inside out, but she just kept plowing him.

Whitney didn’t neglect to play the girlfriend, though, even as she ravaged her boyfriend. She kissed the back of his neck as well as his shoulders, caressed his sore cock now and then, and even playfully bit him on the neck to mark him. While being sodomized and enduring the agony of it, Allen noticed that his prostate responded as if typically did to this stimulation, his pleasure growing with his pain. Whitney drove him harder with each stroke, though, and she showed him no mercy at all in that sense. He was her bitch and she was determined to show him that.

Allen fought, bucked, and struggled, but soon found himself working with Whitney as he felt the ecstasy grow and the suffering ease. It didn’t burn as it did earlier, and he humped the bed with his lust as he felt his throbbing member return to at least semi-hardness. Clearly, something was up, but he wasn’t sure what. When she screamed her climax again and pulled out of his now wrecked bunghole, she leaned over and whispered, “Viagra.”

Now uncuffing Allen and removing the ball gag, Whitney snuggled up with him, plastering him with repeated kisses, letting him dry hump her ample booty, and watching their favorite program together on Netflix. He fell asleep in her arms, leading to all kinds of insane dreams, but when he arose to use the restroom, his girlfriend stopped him and opened her mouth.

“My mouth is your toilet now. Use it!” she told him, much to his shock, slapping his ass as he peed down her throat.

Relieved, Allen was about to suggest mouthwash for Whitney, but then she squatted over him and whizzed into his open mouth as well. The taste and smell were horrible, especially with so much wine in their systems, but he was able to avoid throwing up. He ran to the john, however, and washed out his face and mouth, while Whitney followed him to start the shower. He was a bit shaken, but no less so than when she planted a lip lock on him without washing out or even brushing her teeth first. He could taste his own piss on her lips, but she didn’t give him a chance to object, though she was otherwise very sweet to him.

“My mouth is your toilet and your mouth is mine now, sweet cheeks. Get used to it. There’s some changes happening in this house. Don’t worry, I won’t ask you to do the other thing or do it to you. I have limits, too, but I had to test yours and so I have. You didn’t hurl, so that’s a pretty good sign, honey buns,” Whitney pushed back her auburn hair in the shower as she pulled him into it to wash his body and hers all over.