6 months later.
Dean softly bit the end of his pen and stared at the page.
Question 60
Name the four most problematic remnants of patriarchy in today's society and how they are a danger.
Dean paused to think for a moment before writing the answer that he knew his professor wanted to hear.
- Faith in male deities. Such archaic religions are inherently violent and repressive.
- Male entitlement to the wealth and property of femme. Males use sex to manipulate and exploit.
- Femme are stigmatized for their appreciation of the male from. In a truly free society femme of all ages can objectify males without shame.
- Masculinist political action groups commit acts of terrorism in order to reverse moral progress. These groups are secretly backed by the conservative coalition.
He put his pen down gathered up his paper and pencil case.
"One hour remaining," announced the facilitator.
Dean got up in such a hurry that his chastity cage clattered against the edge of the desk. The sound of stainless steel on wood was unmistakable to him. He reassured himself that it was actually quite subtle and that nobody picked up on that detail. Besides, he was already late for work and didn't have time to think about it.
He approached the front of the room to deliver his papers to the facilitator.
"I know dear, it can be a lot of pressure," she soothed him in a motherly tone as she received the pages.
Dean smiled at the old lady.
"I answered all the questions. I'm done."
"Oh," she raised her eyebrows.
Her surprise only caused Dean's grin to grow. It felt good to counter the stereotype of the dumb stud who goes to college only to find a wife.
His final assessment was complete. But he didn't have time to bask in the wonderful feeling. He had to be in town in half an hour.
--
Dean smiled and shut his eyes as he felt the dark sensuality of the music move through him. After being in chastity all day it felt great to be free. He imagined that it was just him and the music as he leaned back on the pole and spun around in tempo with sensual music; his body obeying every beat. Opening his eyes, he smiled into the darkness. The room was filled with a vibrant hum and the occasional voice rose above the baseline.
"Come on, let mommy see the rest."
"Oh my Goddess. Your right Lena, this is much better than watching him in VR."
Dean looked towards the voices only to see pure black, the spotlight shone down from the ceiling, bathing him in heavenly light, rendering even the closest audience members invisible to him.
"Tell me you don't wanna just take him over your knee!" another voice said quietly.
"Hell yes. He looks like he's been a bad boy too," the reply could be heard just above the music.
"Here pup!" a confident voice beckoned from the other side of the stage.
An old lady's arm reached up into the beam of light from the darkness, holding a 100 credit bill between her wrinkled fingers. The face of President Eleanor Primrose was smiling up at him from the paper note.
Holding onto the pole, Dean squatted down and pointed his ass out invitingly. A moment later he felt the hand cop a greedy feel of his butt before placing the note into the waistband of his g-string.
"Thanks sugar mommy, I'll give you a private dance later tonight."
Just the touch of her hand was enough to set off Dean's submissive instincts. By now he was resigned to the fact that such a response was completely involuntary. His cock began to harden in its tight elastic pouch as if it wasn't even under his control.
"Oh did you hear that ladies!?" the a mature feminine voice of the announcer boomed over the intercom. Dean could hear the lust in her voice.
"Dean Johnson loves a good tipper. I wonder what a private dance from our pornstar would be like?"
This was all very routine, so Dean was unphased. He smiled into the blackness, the bright stage lights caused his golden body to glow, accentuating his muscle definition. His hips pulsed to the baseline of the pop song by a male artist.
Ever since I was born, I've been longing to serve you, to love you, to give it all to you.
"Hey boy! I'll give you five hundred for that pouch!"
Feminine cheers of support battered him from all directions, reminding Dean just how many eyes were actually on him.
"We came to see cock!" Another voice called out.
"Yeah! Come on baby! Stop being a tease!" one from his left yelled.
"Take it off!" a voice from his right yelled.
"Let's see the goods!" another demand came from the back of the room.
"This clit tease needs a thorough spanking to learn what 'Take it off' means," a lady near the front row spoke to her neighbours, causing them to chuckle.
A chill of fear entered him. It was becoming increasingly common for customers to want to administer discipline during lap dances. The domina didn't mind if her boys came out of the booth with a red hue, but sometimes the bouncers were much more permissive than Dean would like.
Whistles began echoing through the room.
The crowd were getting excited right on time. The music was building towards the big moment.
I'm begging please, I'm on my knees. I wanna worship you!
After a sudden pause, the beat dropped and Dean ripped his g-string pouch right off to booming cheers from all directions. He threw his garment of male abasement into the crowd, towards the voice that wanted it.
His cock was already rock hard and glistening. Silver tassels fell down from the piercing in his cock, accentuating his every movement. Excited cheers filled the room as he continued with his routine. All that was left on him was the thin blue elastic string holding his tips tightly around his waist.
--
Meanwhile.
Riya Patel didn't know what to do with her hands. She pretended to be fascinated by a straw as she stirred her drink with it. She couldn't ignore the feeling that was filling her. This was much more than nerves; it was a deep longing which she wished she could extinguish.
The famous 'Dean Johnson' was dancing in nothing but a tiny blue g-string only meters away. Just knowing that he was there sent a tingle through her hips. But she didn't want to be there. She believed that strip clubs and pornography were immoral and degrading to boys. She would never have imagined herself ever setting foot in such a perverse establishment. But after moving to America and starting a new job, she couldn't exactly skip her first monthly leadership meeting, even if it was being held at a club for ladies only.
"Show us the goods!" one of her colleagues projected her voice at Dean's heavenly visage.
Riya still couldn't let herself look.
She lifted the straw and dropped it back in her drink over and over again. The image of Dean's cock getting crushed by a merciless old pussy flashed into her mind again. Despite her best efforts, his audition video was burned into her memory. She had slipped up and watched the video one or two times, maybe several. She sighed and admitted to herself that she had been watching the video at least once a week these days.
"At least I stick to the free sample video and don't give those old perverted bigots my money!" She reassured herself.
Whenever she did watch porn, Dean was always one of her first choices. There was something so pure and special about him. His deep blue eyes and golden locks pressed all the right buttons. And his other features were just perfect. What were the chances that her favourite porn star would appear upon her first visit to a strip club? She didn't believe in the Goddess but it almost seemed like Dibella herself was tormenting her.
A wave of cheers and hollers moved through the room. Riya looked up to see the entire boardroom of her company enthralled by the on stage entertainment. Before she knew what was happening, her eyes were already cast upon Dean's glistening muscles. Lean masculine flesh flexed to the music. Every muscle was perfectly shaped without a trace of fat to be seen. Not a hair could be found on his perfect body. Everything about him was utterly captivating. Pleasure flowed through her body just from looking at him.
The music was reaching a climax as Dean's heavenly form swung on the pole. Then, with all eyes on him, he ripped away his tiny blue g-string pouch and flung it into the crowd as if he was being controlled by the music itself. A thick, long chunk of masculinity burst forth and pointed to the ceiling in eager submission. He was ready to serve a lady; and he sure knew how to do that. A silver tassel hung from his piercing on the tip as if it was a stream of precum. His balls were contained inside an elastic band that kept them looking, perky, big and blue. Riya could have sworn that his balls had gotten bigger since he filmed that audition video, and wondered if he had gotten implants or if he just hadn't been allowed to cum. She simply couldn't look away anymore.
As she shifted in her seat and uncrossed her legs, an unmistakable dampness became obvious to her. Her femininity was positively salivating over the thought of the much younger man. She crossed her legs again, still unable to take her eyes off him.
"Book a private session with Dean now ladies. Nothing gets him hard like a powerful and mature lady!" the announcer called out.
Dean smiled into the crowd shamelessly as ladies around the room cheered and whistled.
--
10 minutes later.
Dean stepped through the curtains and walked down the dark set of stairs to the change room. The thunderous applause from drunken revellers still sounded close. He felt an ache in his heavy balls, but he barely noticed that anymore. Something about the attention of the crowd and the lewd comments always made him very hard. His cock curved up to the ceiling and wiggled with each step, causing his penis jewellery to chime.
