The moon shined full through the window. Rowen lay on the soft mat, surrounded by cloud-like cushions. Torches stood on each corner, burning oil and lifting a euphoric fragrance. A bronze jar and cup sat on a nearby table. According to the priestess, Rowen was not to drink from the jar, unless he really had to.
Rowen sighed nervously, as he twisted his legs. He was decorated with articles of gold dressed in small clothes that revealed much of his slender body. His loincloth didn't even do a decent job hiding his tool. For a man, he had very feminine features. His hips were curvaceous and his face clean and untouched.
He twitched nervously as he stared at the door. He was eighteen, the right age of mating. Rowen had never actually seen many women before, save for his teachers and the priestesses. Was he ready for the process? Would he actually do a good job getting the women pregnant? Rowen didn't know at all. What he did know was that he had to do his best and give it his all. As a male of the Ira, it was his duty to spread his seed.
The Ira was a race of warriors that composed mainly of females. Men were practically absent from their race. What was the reason for this? Were the Ira misandrists who looked down on men? That wasn't entirely the reason.
Centuries ago, the Ira was among the most vicious of warriors in the land. They plundered and killed all that got in their way. Villages, towns and even nations trembled at the very sound of their name. Those many years ago, men were still plentiful, performing most of the heavy jobs, while women took care of trade, agriculture and housework. Their people thrived in their raids and conquests. Believing only in their weapons, the Ira bowed to no one. As mighty as the Ira Clan was, they should have known that there were some toes not to step on.
One day, the Ira attacked a town celebrating a festival dedicated to Elopia, goddess of birth and fertility. Without any qualms, the Ira destroyed the town, desecrated the festival, destroyed the offerings and stole the goddess's treasures.
Angered by this, Elopia placed a curse upon the women of the Ira Clan. Out of ten women, only one would give birth to a male. To make the situation worse, Elopia declared that all of their future sons would never grow up to be like their fathers. Rather than being muscular and mighty, they would instead be slender and feminine. Talents of steel and blood were replaced with the lyre and song. The masculinity of the male Ira had forever been castrated.
Women now had to take most of the jobs. They became warriors, blacksmiths, carpenters and every other job that demanded heavy labor. Men were turned into a valuable resource. Being too valuable, they were separated from the rest of society and secluded in an area, where they were trained and groomed for copulation. Women were strictly forbidden from having any contact with men, until a certain mating period.
Rowen wasn't entirely sure if he was indeed ready. He had studied the female body and their most sensitive parts. He knew where to hit, but didn't exactly know what to do. Like the others, he had no practical training. Everything was simply theoretic. It wasn't any easier when his teacher explained that each woman had different interests.
Before long, Rowen heard a loud bell outside the room. It was about to begin. The young man's heart raced anxiously as he repeated words of encouragement to himself.
Soon, the door creaked open. The first woman entered. She was tall with broad shoulders. Her complexion gave evidence of hours of toil under the sun. While she did look similar to her teachers, she did carry differences. She had more muscle and a firmer physique. While she still carried a curvaceous figure, she looked pretty rigid. Her hair was raven, while her irises were like the sapphires on one of Rowen's earrings. She was dressed in a plain dress that looked more suited for drying the body.
The young man immediately stood up and presented himself. Remembering what his teachers had told him, he bowed down.
"Good evening," he greeted, with a smile. "I'm Rowen and I will be of your service."
Rowen smiled, thinking he had delivered it flawlessly. However, the woman scratched her chin and stared at Rowen for a while. Was something wrong?
"Could you turn around and repeat that?" the woman asked.
"Of course," Rowen said. Was this something that his teacher forgot to mention? It was a little odd. "Good evening. I'm -."
But before Rowen could finish, the woman tackled him from behind and brought him down on the bed. Looking back, Rowen found her clothes lying on the floor. Her hands suddenly frisked all over his body, as she began to nibble the tip of his ear.
"W-wait, m-mistress!" Rowen trembled.
"That's good," the woman said, as she warmly breathed on his neck. "Keep it up. I like this frightened and innocent act you're giving."
Frightened act? This was no act, it was genuine fear! Rowen's heart raced, as his teeth clattered! Just what was she doing? The teachers never mentioned this before. They taught him it was his job to please his mistress, yet she seemed to be doing all the work.
The woman's tongue slid down Rowen's neck, while her hand pinched and twisted different areas of his body. Her legs folded around his, while her chest pressed on his back. Rowen gasped heavily, as a burning sensation built in his chest. As he breathed, he deeply inhaled the perfume, making his skin twice as sensitive.
