The Aphrodite Project

Before reading: Please note that this story has a steady pace, and there isn't a great deal of sex of any kind until about a third of the way through.

It also has themes that won't appeal to everyone. If you're not keen on femdom then there's a chance you won't enjoy the story. The man in this story is gradually subjugated by dynamic women.

*****

"I'm fed up to the ears with old men dreaming up wars for young men to die in."

George S. McGovern - American historian and politician

1

The couch was more comfortable than its stiff lines made it seem. Jon sat back for a moment to take in the open and sleek office around him. Men and women wearing pallid greys hovered noiselessly in the mid-distance. A clean-cut man with rimless glasses nodded hello to him on the way to his desk.

Jon responded awkwardly. He felt scruffy. It wasn't just his stubble, plaid shirt and jeans; it was an internal untidiness that dawned on him. He was in an unfamiliar world, and he might have been worried that he didn't belong had he not already ruled out ever joining it.

He unfolded his copy of G2 and hadn't read a sentence before someone interrupted delicately.

"Would you like a cup of tea or coffee Mr Roeder?"

It was a lad straight out of school, but immaculately presented like everyone else around here.

"Uh, no thanks."

Jon saw his chance to get a bit more information. "But could you tell me a sec - what does Mr Fournier do here?"

Amused incredulity flashed across the kid's face. When he saw Jon was serious he composed himself and said, "Well, he's a project manager. Have you heard of SwiftRail? The Maglev project? He's coordinating the whole thing. He flew back from a meeting in Germany to..."

"Just to see me? Bloody hell."

A few paragraphs later, Edward Fournier came out, shook Jon's hand, patted his arm with brotherly warmth and led him to his office. London rolled out in the window behind Fournier's desk, one green bend of the Thames and the dark glass and chrome of the city. The office and Fournier's desk were bare. It didn't look he spent much time here.

Jon put Fournier in his late-30s. His brown hair was neatly parted and trimmed to precision. There were flecks of grey above his ears, his high cheekbones were supporting dark, powdery eyes that betrayed an all-nighter, or overnight travel. He had a faintly deferential aspect towards Jon, which Jon guessed not many people round here had seen.

This was not an interview, and while Jon assumed that many a candidate had sat before Fournier desperate to make a good impression, this encounter would be very different. Jon would ask the questions, and this man of real status would spend the next hour doing his best to convince.

"Yes, SwiftRail - essentially an underground vacuum tube between London and Manchester. 15-minute journey times, totally sustainable, no fossil fuels, countless jobs created. And above ground the old railway line will become a new national trail for walkers. The idea wasn't mine, but I fought fucking hard for it."

Fournier addressed the matter at hand.

"It's three weeks. Something like a boot camp, but they won't be shouting at you like a drill sergeant or anything like that."

"Although you will get in shape. You do a lot of exercise, but there's a spiritual side as well. Funny, I never thought it would be so hard to explain..." He took a deep breath before starting over. "So you go to this lovely country estate and the days just fly by. There's no time to dwell on doubts or get homesick."

"Does it work?"

"Oh yes," Fournier insisted. "You get in great shape, and you learn so much about yourself, without even trying. I bet you've been selected for the same reason as me - headhunted because of your situation and outlook on life. I reckon there are a lot of people like us, who have talent and are clearly intelligent, but are...well, rudderless. I see them every few months when we interview a new batch of graduates. No spirit; no passion. Sorry."

Jon shrugged. Fournier had his number.

"This..." Fournier made a circling motion around the office with his finger, "might not be your dream, but it's mine for sure. After my three weeks on the program everything was so clear. A few years later I'm the youngest guy leading these projects. Infrastructure, affordable housing, parks; things that transform places and really improve people's lives."

"Just knowing what you want to do and caring enough to go for it. That's the trick to a great career. It's as simple as pinpointing that goal. If you're smart enough, and I think we are, the rest is easy. And you'll find all this out."

"That's what those women..." Fournier corrected himself, "... and men - guys, know how to do. If you work hard and throw yourself into the program it will be over before you know it, and all the while you'll be getting amazing insights about who you are. It's intense - christ, I've said all this already - and it's so focussed because you're the only one there."

"But why the secrecy? I mean, I bumped into Alice at a career's fair. I guess she was my headhunter. But there's nothing online; no email. Well, I had doubts"

"They may have been watching you for a while. That's just how they work. Kind of refreshing isn't? It's a charitable, altruistic organisation, and there's simply an understanding to keep it low-key and avoid the wrong kind of attention. I suppose you can think of me as a customer endorsement. But wait", Edward said with a friendly chuckle as he mimicked the old infomercial spiel, "...don't take my word for it. I've got a few numbers of other alumni on my phone."

And just as he picked the phone up it rang in his hand. Fournier glanced at the screen and tightened, visibly. "Excuse me, I have to take this."

Looking out to the river, Jon thought back to Alice two weeks before. The final exam of his master's degree was a few days behind him, and still none the wiser about his future after six years of higher education, he was desperate for some inspiration.

But inspiration eluded him at the careers fair. If Alice had been watching him all along, she'd have observed a glum-looking man trudging lost around the hall. As he was getting ready to leave she tapped him on the shoulder. They found a quiet corner where she assessed him for half an hour, deeming him eligible for a three week course.

Fournier was just outside the door to the office. For a moment Jon thought he sounded a little flustered, his voice rising above a murmur, and pleading, "...no, you don't need to do that to me. I promise...", before falling back down to an indiscernible drone.

Jon mused, "Guess there's always someone bigger no matter how high you go."

Alice had grabbed Jon's attention that day at the career's fair. This was also true. Was she beautiful? He couldn't tell. But there was something magnetic in her paleness, and the sharp, upward flick of her flexuous lips exuded confidence. Her eyes were round and bright, almost circular and set off sharply by dark makeup. Her obsidian hair flowed down to her shoulder, culminating in loose curls that caressed her long neck.

Her cleavage was exposed, marginally more than he'd expected to see at this sort of event. It was a deceptively deep, soft, snowy fold, and he was careful not to stare as she probed him gently about his situation and plans for the future over a cup of tea. She nodded and hummed empathetically, confidently meeting his gaze with her wide, expressive eyes when he spoke.

Jon was at the end of a master's degree in Film Studues. As far as his professor, Leslie Hardwick, was aware he would go for a phd, but unbeknownst to her Jon was desperate to call it quits. She adored him and had him lined up for a life in academia, but he was now stringing her along, and didn't know how to break the news to someone who had high hopes for him. He wanted to get a job, get far away from his parents, but had not a single clue what he wanted to be.

The problem was that in a deep recess in his mind, he feared he wasn't strong enough for the working world. He wouldn't be able to bounce back from the rejection that is part of most job hunts, and if he got a foothold, corporate life would chew him up. He just couldn't assert himself onto other people, much less steamroll them - he was naturally passive and retiring.

Yet the guilt of leeching off mum and dad, and dodging the confrontation with Professor Hardwick had spurred him to visit that job fair just before his final exam, with few expectations. His prospects weren't that bad, but he lacked fire; a damp apathetic fug followed him around.

Edward came back into the room with a sigh and shuffled back into his chair, composed once more.

"This job, eh! Anyway, have you given it some thought?"

"Yeah, I think I'm going to go for it. Don't worry about the other alumni. I've heard enough here.."

Fournier looked surprised and relieved; he was smiling broadly and without a trace of guile. Like a naughty child spared punishment by a lucky twist of fate.

"Oh, good on you, Jon. It's the best decision you've ever made. I promise."

2

"I love you", muttered Kathy as they prepared to part. It was the 1st of June, and Jon was packed and ready to go. Fournier had sent him road directions, but asked that he kept them to himself. Jon felt privileged, and this sense of pride overcame the shame of holding details back from his girlfriend.

"I love you too", mumbled Jon, abashed.

"I can't believe you won't be able to call me while you're there. It's not on.", Kathy protested one last time.

"Yeah, I know", Jon offered apologetically. "I'll see if I can sort something out. But I think it's strictly emergencies only."

Kathy was troubled by the whole thing. But of course she would be. She hadn't met Fournier or Alice. And she hadn't been headhunted. Jon was sure it wasn't jealousy; just that she couldn't know what he was feeling, and why he was so excited about what lay ahead.

It didn't help that their last night together had been less than perfect. Stepping out of a bar arm-in-arm, they were pestered by a group of drunk young lads more interested in Kathy than they were in Jon. Nudged to one side and helplessly watching an ugly situation unfold, Jon missed his cue to step in, and waited helpless as they badgered and jostled her. If Jon had stood up for his girlfriend, a fight would no doubt have ensued, and outnumbered four-to-one Jon might have ended up in hospital. As it was Kathy was shaken up, and lads moved on after splashing beer on her dress. It was over in seconds. A minor incident, but the timing could not have been worse.

Plans of goodbye intimacy that night were torn up on the spot. Jon felt emasculated and ashamed. Kathy didn't blame him for not sacrificing himself for her; "it might have made it worse for both of us", but he could feel her trembling. They slept at his bed and he held her in his arms until he fell asleep.

After their meeting, Fournier had phoned Jon to brief him with details. There would be no internet, no phones; a complete break from the trappings of everyday life would be needed. Jon would need to commit to the program for it to work, but would be free to walk away at any time. Fournier assured him again that he would love it.

These rules, skeletal and not fleshed out by any other information, had freighted pangs of trepidation as the first day approached, but it would be worth it if he could find out what he was supposed to do with his life. He was sure that a confident, focussed Jon would have made the right call in situations like last night.

He needed a reason to fight for what he wanted.

During the next three weeks, Jon would have to miss Kathy's cousin's wedding, which meant private relief for Jon, but annoyance for Kathy. He grinned mischievously when he thought about it. But apart from that it would amount to little more than an extended holiday. They had been a couple for six months, and, as obstacles go, this break would be negotiable - like a fallen tree across a forest path.

They kissed and held held each other for a few seconds. She smiled at him when he promised he knew what he was doing. As he pulled away he wished the timing could have been better, and he glanced in the mirror to see Kathy looking lost and vulnerable in his parents' driveway.

It took four hours to reach the estate. Specks of dust danced around his fiesta in the bright sun, and he passed the journey listening to music for the last time for a few weeks. From the four wide lanes of the M3 he got onto an A-road, and from that he pulled into a country lane flanked by thick foliage that interlinked a few metres above the road surface. The road wound along the side of a valley for several miles, before he saw the landmark; an old tudor cottage that was once the gatehouse of the property.

Jon pulled onto a track next to it and heard the gravel crunch beneath his wheels. Towering ash trees obscured his view, but after a curve in the track he came to a modern-looking gate protected by dark brick walls. He spoke tentatively into the intercom when he heard a woman's sharp, inquisitory voice. After a pause the gates opened noiselessly.

The track continued through a copse, and then opened out onto a vast green space, which sloped steadily up to an imposing stately home in the mid-distance. The track led to the front of the building, hugging the edge of deciduous woodland that took up a whole swathe of the property. Approaching the house he was drawn to its tall windows and turreted chimneys. He tried to put a date on it - 1600s maybe, old and grand.

As he approached he noticed four figures standing in front of the portico. All women. He recognised Alice and made an effort to catch her eye as he parked up. None of the women approached him as he got out of the car, leaving him to crunch his way sheepishly across the gravel to introduce himself to them, watching him the whole time.

"Er, hello."

"Hello Jon Roeder", said the eldest, a refined woman in her 40s. Wearing a black formal dress, she had long, dark hair and slightly accentuated, round cheekbones.

"You're a little late and we want to get started as soon as possible." Her tone was warm and maternal, if her words were to the point

"I'm Lauren. I know you've met Alice, and this is Olwen and Jennifer. You'll have time to get to know each other later, but first I'll get you settled in." Jon adjusted to this matter of factness with a characteristic nervous laugh and nodded hello, but he sensed Lauren was already on the move behind him and expected him to follow.

He took a step towards the building and was wrong-footed as Lauren strode away from the door and towards the woodland to the side. A few paces behind her and trotting to keep up, Jon marked her height; a good couple of inches taller than his 5 feet 10. Her black heels clipped their way across the gravel drive, which gave way to a stone path when they reached the trees. They had to sidestep through a dense thicket lined the outer edge of the woodland and obscured the view from the house. But after a squeeze they were in the forest, with trees at wide intervals and damp, mossy air.

Their destination wasn't clear until they were almost on top of it; a glass dome that reflected the trees, and it was only when they confronted the structure that he could size it up.

It was a strange biome, about the length and breadth of a tennis court, with green hexagonal tiles that camouflaged it in the forest. The apex was high, several metres off the ground, but well below the canopy of the ancient trees around them. They had to crouch a little to get inside, and when they did, the building burst into life and Jon was dumbfounded by what he saw.

There were luminous turquoise strips on the floor, tracing their way around the building's minimal amenities. Hexagonal slivers of light glowed softly from the ceiling. Much of the dome appeared to be just open space, so minimal was the design. At the centre was what looked like a bed; an oval padded surface, thicker at one end, but it also had a transparent convex lid that was currently open.

Awe-struck, Jon turned around him to see Lauren tapping away on a touchscreen by the entrance.

"Is that my bed?" he asked, stammering.

"Yes", she said tersely."This is you."

And she began pointing at different parts of the dome.

"Bedroom.", the pod-like thing he had just pointed out.

"Laundry", a hatch that led to nowhere, "you'll need to change often."

"Bathroom.", reassuringly, a frosted sphere in a nook on the far side of the dome.

"Exercise area.", an open space with white padded mats.

"Dining area and lounge.", a flat surface that didn't look like any dining table he had ever seen. It was circular, and a tube emerged from the centre like a high-end kitchen tap, feeding into a large plastic beaker. Tracing its circumference was a padded bench. A few steps from this was a kind of couch, contoured to fit the human body.

"Oh, we'll come to the eating arrangements later. But for now here's a water bottle. You'll need to keep hydrated. Refill it by pushing this button."

She handed him a large sports bottle, the kind he'd never had use for. Gradually he registered the smell of the building; fresh, with a touch of spice, a scent that evoked a souk he had visited in Morocco. Frankincense? He couldn't tell the time of day. It was bright outside, but the shell of the building made it hard to perceive the sunlight.

Lauren pulled a drawer out from under the sleeping pod. It contained clothing, if he could call it that. She held up a cross between a wetsuit and bodysuit. It had long-sleeves and the lustrous, lycra-style material looked like it was going to be clingy. Responding to Jon's reaction of horror, Lauren tried to appease him, "Think of yourself as an athlete. You're going to do a lot of exercise, and this material has been developed to dry quickly and remove odours. Change when you need to."

"I've never thought of myself as an athlete." Jon was slim enough, but thanks to his exercise-free lifestyle he was on the soft side.

"I'll give you a few minutes to get dressed and settled. You'll get used to it. And please have your belongings ready for me to take away. I'll be back with Jennifer shortly and you can have lunch."

3

Sheepishly, Jon slipped on the blue-to-green creation. It extended to his wrists and down to just above his knees. He felt very self-conscious, and sought a mirror in the bathroom, but there was none. "Probably for the best", he breathed ruefully. He stuffed the clothes he had on into his bag and dropped his car keys in there too. Momentarily forlorn, he was playing with the idea of sending Kathy a text when the biome's door opened and Lauren returned.

"I know it might take some getting used to. We'll keep it charged and will let you know if there's an emergency."

She took the bag briskly, and Jennifer stepped in behind. Pausing by the console to type something into it.

Of all the women he'd seen so far, Jennifer looked the youngest. Maybe early-20s.

"Jennifer is our fitness expert. Today will be an intro - one exercise session, then a meal and then some relaxing visualisation with me, and that should round things off until tomorrow."

Jon was aware of himself at this moment. Both of these women were attractive in different ways; Lauren, elegant dark, tall and soft, and Jennifer bright, fair and lithe. She was dressed in the same turquoise colour as him, also in a bodysuit. Her sandy hair was tied back, setting off her delicate features; a cute mouth, freckled cheek, oval jaw and pert nose. Jon could sense his small gut protruding and was anxious about humiliating himself.

"Are you ready to go?"

She overflowed with peppy and cartoonish energy, which, he figured, she'd need if she was going to get him active for the first time since adolescence.