Mark Andrews
Crime & Punishment
in the new millennium


Mark 2086X1024. Aged 18, 6' tall. Blond, blue eyes. Athletically muscular


Madam Justice Einfeld smiled down at the handsome young male standing on the small round open dais in the middle of the court. As a male, his hands were cuffed behind him to the short post affixed to the back of the dais. He now looked very forlorn indeed. These days, very few males who landed in the courts were adjudged innocent -- only if he happened to be a favourite of a woman in a high place did he have any chance at all.
  She paused and looked gloatingly down on the strapping young male. Two court bailiffs, female of course since no male was nowadays considered competent to fulfil any but the most basic of tasks, stepped up to the athletically muscled male and standing either side of him, grabbed at his coat, pulling it and literally tearing it from his body. His shirt followed and now the ladies in the court drew in breath as they stared at the swell of his chest, the sharply rounded cut of his shoulders, the column-like neck and the rippled planes of his belly. They had already appreciated his handsome face with the tanned skin, the bright blue eyes, the straight nose and white, even teeth.

The bailiffs now started on his trousers. One undid his belt and slipped it off while the other ripped open the fly at the front. They then attacked the garment as they had the coat, ripping and tearing it from his body. He didn't resist. Not that he could very much, handcuffed as he was to the steel post behind him but in any case the judge had power of life and death over him. Stealing they had called it, but it was only an apple. Nevertheless, the laws relating to offences by males gave judges the power to 'terminate' a male if she adjudged him to be lacking in sufficient contrition or even if she was of the opinion that he was of little use to society--female society that was.

Mark didn't want to hang out in the public square. He didn't want to die, but apart from that, it was so demeaning. They always hung males naked and to add to his shame, they made sure he was erect as they hauled the noose up so that he stood on just the tips of his toes. That way he lasted for hours and provided good entertainment for the ladies shopping in the mall--as well as providing a salutary lesson to any males who were carrying their mistress' bags or were otherwise working in the area.

Now he was naked and again breaths were drawn in as the women stared at the perfection of Mark's young body. At eighteen, he was in the peak of his life and although all males were exercised for half their day at the Male Training Centres (to develop their physiques to perfection) he had a naturally good physique and the exercise had merely toned him just that little bit better.

His shoulders were broad and his waist slim. His buttocks protruded cheekily and his thighs were those of an athlete, as were his calves. As a blond, with fine, shimmering hair, his genital area was only sparsely covered and his long thick cock and heavy balls were very prominent. The ladies stared hungrily at them. Not that each didn't have her own bevy of males to satisfy her every sexual need but when a male as handsome and athletic (and as well endowed sexually) as Mark came along, all were envious and wanted him for their own.

Justice Einfeld too, looked him up and down. She loved this part of her job. Putting males in their place was her delight and she exercised her very considerable powers to the fullest. Of course males were now so well trained and conditioned in the factories where they were produced and then later in the Male Training Centres where they were schooled in the tasks which were to be their lifelong activity, that very few now erred. It thus became necessary to arrest a few at random and punish them as an example to the others. Mark had been unlucky enough to be caught with his hand in the apple barrel.

With his good looks and fine physique, he had been trained for and then put up for auction as a domestic. This of course, was a euphemism for sex slave, although domestics did perform housekeeping tasks in the house of their mistress as well. As the slave of a powerful woman, Mark might have escaped Judge Einfeld's clutches. Unfortunately for him, while he certainly had the looks and physique of a virile young bull, his sexual prowess was a trifle lacking. He could perform perfectly adequately up to and including his first ejaculation. After that however, he was quite useless for two the next hours. His mistress was in the court and she had had a few words with the judge. Their conversation was going to drastically influence the sentence about to be imposed.

She didn't smile as she said these fatuous words. She paused and let the enormity of her words sink in to Mark's brain. He was now sure she was going to hang him and he shivered in fear and misery as he waited for the fatal words. He could just see himself being dragged, stark naked, by the rope around his neck and with his hands tied behind his back to expose his shame even more, down to the scaffold in the mall; to wait under the block while one of the bailiffs climbed up on the ladder and threaded the loose end of the rope through the block and then hauled on it until he was standing on tip toes, there to slowly--very, very slowly, strangle to death as his muscles tired and he slumped down. Again she paused to let the drama of the moment unfold slowly. She smiled sourly. Mark sobbed once as he stared down at his now former mistress. She merely smiled up at him. He had been a pretty slave but she would comb the Male Training Centres for a replacement just as handsome and this time she would test him properly, not relying on just the size of his genitals as an indication of his virility.

They transported him to the Male Modification Unit naked, up on the back of the open flat bed of the utility truck, cuffed to the short post in the centre of the bed, as he had been in the court. Ladies stared up at the nakedness of his fine body in awe and lust as he passed; males averted their eyes, knowing it could just as easily be them up there, stark naked, about to suffer some dreadful modification to their bodies…

For all knew he was facing such a fate. The MMU sign on the side of the truck said it all. Precisely what was to be done to him was not clear. There was such a range. Limb removal in whole or part was fairly standard. Some ladies actually had all the limbs of their property removed so they made living pillows for their beds.

Genital modification was also standard. There was quite a range of things which could be done to the male genitalia to make their owners curios such as slitting the penis in two lengthwise, or inserting all manner of rings in various places along its length including a large ring entering the slit at the tip and emerging on the underside of the glans. These rings were usually welded permanently in place. One quite horrible punishment was to double the penile organ back under itself and ring its tip to its base. This not only made an erection impossible (and any attempt to achieve same very painful), it also made urinating a severe trial which, even when accomplished, made a horrible smelly mess over the male's testicles.

Mark stood in a blue funk as the utility truck sped through the city streets on its way to the Unit. The driver couldn't care less about her passenger. As she lurched around corners he was thrown violently from side to side and just keeping to his feet was a feat in itself. If he fell though that pulled his arms up painfully behind his back so he made every attempt to stay upright. As a result, his fine muscles were constantly flexing as he worked to keep erect and the ladies on the streets made no secret of their lust as the vehicle passed by. When it stopped at traffic lights it was worst. Then they crowded around and stared up at his beautiful body quite openly, only reluctantly falling back when the lights changed to green.

Upon arrival at the Unit, the driver backed it into a loading bay and two guards emerged, unlocked him from the post and dragged him off the truck and along a corridor to be admitted. This was accomplished in short order and then he was dragged to another room whose door proclaimed it as the 'DEPILATION ROOM'.

"Hair removal first, scum-slave," sneered the head guard, pushing him into the Depilation Box in the centre of the room.

This was a glass unit into which he was backed, his head sliding into a small unit at its top which provided for the top part of his head to be sealed against the lightning-like bolts which would shortly attack every hair on his body from his moustache and beard, to the tips of his toes. His wrists and ankles were secured in the restraints which, drawing them out in a long 'X', not only exposed every part of his flesh to the zaps but also prevented him from damaging the unit, then the glass door was closed and the technician set her controls then pressed the start button.

The two guards and the tech smiled as they watched his body twisting and straining inside the transparent glass. This was a most painful operation as the zaps of high frequency electrical energy which killed the hairs at their roots were almost as painful as a real electric shock and this process went on for a full hour--more if that was not sufficient. All males were physical wrecks when the door was finally opened and they were dragged out.

Mark was no different. As the main unit zaps started, working slowly up and down his body from neck to toe and then up again, he pulled back, sideways, forwards and every which way to try to avoid them. It was impossible of course. The zaps emanated from the glass itself and could not be avoided, no matter how you twisted and turned. But your antics were very erotic to the female watchers and every guard, officer and technician not actually employed at the moment crowded into the Depilation Room to watch as a handsome young buck was stripped of his face and body hair.

Many private owners of males desired their property to be denuded of hair and brought them here to be treated but all public slaves were routinely stripped of their body hair. It added to their shame to be exposed just that little bit more while working in the public domain. Mark's body and face hairs were fine and quite sparse. It took only half an hour to dispose of them but he got the full hour nevertheless. This was part of his punishment and he would suffer it in full. More than one of the watching ladies creamed in her pants as she watched his fine muscles rippling and straining as the little zaps attacked first one part of his flesh and then another.

Once totally nude, he was taken to the genital modification unit. Here, he was strapped back against an 'X' frame and secured tightly. The surgeon then made her entry and sat on a stool in front of him. She picked up his long thick cock and dangling balls, stroked her free hand down over the glabrous planes of his newly denuded pubis and stared up into his now so smooth face.

Mark said nothing. His belly was churning over horribly and his heart beating nineteen to the dozen as he contemplated the fact that in a few minutes he was going to lose those organs which he had so prized. He was about to become a eunuch, a castrate; to serve naked out in public until he died…

She sprayed the area with an antiseptic and then took up her scalpel.

She looked up at him in surprise. Mark gulped and his handsome young face turned white but he took a breath and decided to be as stoical about what was going to happen to him as possible. He wasn't prepared for the pain though as she went to work. The first cut wasn't too bad but then as she sliced deeper and deeper and cauterised each bleeder as it began to spurt, the pain mounted until he was screaming in agony. Once more the watching ladies creamed as they observed a young male's manhood being removed while his muscles corded and flexed in response to his pain.

She began with the scrotum, cutting into it from around the underside as his owner had asked for his genitals to be presented to her as a single unit. Normally of course, she would have opened his scrotal sac vertically, extracted his gonads and sliced them off one by one and then removed the scrotum afterwards as this would minimise bleeding.

The penis itself had to be removed from right inside his body as its stump would have left an ugly bump at his lower belly. Few people are aware that the human penis actually starts deep inside the body which is why it is able to erect and stand vertically up his belly when he is excited.

She was careful to preserve sufficient skin to sew back over the wound but she was also able to keep the organ largely intact for his former mistress.

Mark screamed mightily as she worked. He cried at the loss of his manhood but his sobs were largely over-ridden by the screams of pain as she cut deeper and deeper with her ultra-sharp scalpel.

The surgeon was efficient. Hell, she ought to have been. She did a dozen or more castrations every day and she knew every last blood vessel, nerve and ligament in the area. Within minutes she was finished, sewing up the wound with tiny stitches which, when they were absorbed into his body, wouldn't even show. His groin was now perfectly flat, the abdominal muscles tapering down his middle to end in a quite smooth triangle which looked as it if it had never boasted male genitalia at all.

The next step was to provide him with a means of urinating since she had sealed off his urinary tract when she cut off his penis. This was a simple matter of piercing the urethra where it passes close to the skin of his perineum. This was easily accomplished with a surgical auger which she simply stabbed into the right spot down between his legs. She now nodded to her assistant who forced a mouthpiece between his jaws and into his mouth and strapped it tight. The mouthpiece had a tube leading into it and he was now fed a continuous trickle of water laced with a diuretic which would ensure he would urinate constantly, thus keeping the new wound open and allowing it to form into a permanent aperture between his legs. Pissing would be uncomfortable and shameful for him until he learned to squat but who cared. He was only a male; and now a slave at that.

They placed a large tray under him to catch his wastes and then the surgeon stood up, gave his lean belly a final pat and nodded to her assistant and the watching spectators, smiled and left the room. A nurse would visit regularly to ensure he was continuing to piss roughly the same amount of liquid as was being force-fed into him but that was the extent of his recovery. In a few days, he would be judged ready for the removal of his arms.

He was taken down from the frame after twenty-four hours but now had to stand with his legs spread wide over a collector which measured his urine. The collector was a large funnel whose top was moulded to allow his legs to fit either side and they were strapped to its top so he was largely immobile. The liquid diet continued but now it contained glucose and other nutriments as well as the diuretic. Thus he stayed for the next week while the little hole between his legs healed and became a permanent part of his body.

He was now judged ready for the arm removal.

They took him into the surgical unit which specialised in limb removal and forced him up onto the stainless steel table. There were no sheets covering it. He was only a male after all. They strapped him down very tightly and then the surgeon, a different one this time, a specialist in arm removal entered and checked him over.

Mark stared up at her. Sixteen hours…? Did those males who pulled the light transport buses and the taxi gigs really work sixteen hours a day?

She took up her scalpel and addressed the student surgeons crowding around the table,

Mark screamed as the sharp scalpel cut into his upper right arm and his muscles went rigid with the pain. The surgeon smiled. So did her students. Most women liked to hear males voicing their pain in the form of screams or sobs. She worked carefully, her reputation as a surgeon at stake here. Everyone looked at these males critically to see how well the surgeon had done her work. Ugly wounds and scars covering the ends of the bone were a black mark.

Mark stared down at his right arm in horror (in between his screams and sobs, that is). He didn't faint. He wanted to. The pain was excruciating but he was a hardy young man and he had to lie there and submit to every new cut and sealing of his vessels. Finally the bone was sufficiently exposed and she took up the electric saw, grinning down at her 'patient' as she gunned its motor and then brought it down to cut through the bone. His arm was caught by her assistant as it fell free and she held it up triumphantly in front of his eyes while he stared at it in misery. He had had nicely shaped arms and had delighted in flexing his biceps in front of the tiny mirror in the slaves quarters. Not any more, he thought ruefully.

She now folded the flaps of skin and flesh back over the bone and sewed them together.

Mark fainted.
Mark 2086X1024 after his operation and a couple weeks in the sun.  For a larger image, click on photo.

They gave him two weeks to recover and then he was taken to the Transport Department depot to begin his training and conditioning. The light vehicles which the transport slaves pulled were extremely popular but they were still quite rare, the more usual motor bus being used on most routes. Still, with the likes of Judge Einfeld on the bench, more and more muscular young males were being sentenced to this fate and if the rumours were right and the government male breeding factories had indeed come up with a method of gestating thousands of males together in huge tanks, males might well lose whatever rights they still had and become from the moment of 'birth' slaves to be used for all and any purposes womankind dictated. Male-power caused no pollution and the idea of hundreds of light buses, each being hauled by sixteen naked muscular males instead of the noisy and smelly diesel buses was most attractive, at least to the ladies.

That was still in the future however. For now, Mark was to join a small band of under two hundred males who formed the teams which were harnessed to the pole of the light transport vehicle. First though, he had to be conditioned

Muscular he was. Young and fit he was. Strong, too, he was. He was not however, anywhere near ready to join the growing band of young males who toiled for sixteen hours every day, seven days a week, to haul the gawking females who clamoured for tickets to mount the light benches which ran across the flat bed of the bus under the ultra-light awning which covered it. The 'bus' boasted four rows, each of which seated three passengers. Thus sixteen males pulled twelve passengers and the driver. The vehicle was light alright, being fabricated of aluminium but it was still a weight and a half and the combined mass of the vehicle and passengers was just under a ton. Each slave therefore had to pull a mass of around a hundred and fifty pounds. Not much, you think, when it is mounted on rubber wheels? Try doing it for sixteen hours a day, up hill and down dale!

Mark's training involved toiling at pulling at the bar of a huge, heavily weighted capstan, turning it round and round endlessly... His conditioning meant he had to do it for longer and longer periods without a break. They aided him with the whip and he soon learned to strive his hardest.

First though, he had to be fitted into the belt which was to become a permanent part of his anatomy.

This was fashioned of stainless steel and hinged at the front. It went round his hips and once the hidden lock snapped into place behind his back, it could only be removed with a special key. It would not normally be removed until he died. At the back was a ball fitting, rather like those used at the back of cars to tow a trailer. This male coupling matched female versions on the capstan bars and on the buses he would be hauling as soon as his training was complete.

Now they led him up to the capstan and backed him into the female coupling on the end of one of the four bars emanating from the central post. The ball clicked into place and another key would be needed to unlock him from the bar. The guards first took their time running their hands over his flesh, particularly his fine muscles but even more over the now so naked area at his groin where once he had boasted a fine set of genitals; and the stumps at the ends of his shoulders whose wounds were now healing nicely.

He leaned forward and found, to his dismay, that the capstan was weighted and that it required a great deal of effort to get it moving. He leaned forward and pushed with his legs, wishing he still had his arms to add to the weight of his body. Still it wouldn't move. He heard the crack and then felt the lash of the tail of the whip on his back. He screamed and jumped (as far as the coupling to his belt allowed anyway) and leaned even further forward. A second crack of the whip against his right buttock cheek soon had him moving however. Those bites had been painful. Not as bad as the knife cutting off his cock and balls or the removal of his arms but quite sufficient to have him yelp in real pain.

The sweat stood out in beads all over his flesh as the guard followed on behind him, touching up his back and buttocks every time he seemed to falter. The weighting to the capstan was far greater that he would have to pull as his share of the load as a transport slave but that was by design. Work him as hard as it was possible now and he would develop muscles which would allow him to pull the bus with ease. On this first day they would work him for an hour and then give him a hour's rest. Tomorrow it would be an hour and five minutes followed by a fifty-five minute rest and so on until after twelve days, he was working continuously. It was a diabolical regime but experience had proved that although the males suffered terribly as their muscles adjusted, it was perfectly possible.

After a month of daily training which started with eight hours and increased to the full sixteen by the end of the month, he was deemed ready. His muscles had not increased in size all that much but they were stronger, sleeker, even better defined that when he had first been locked into the socket of the capstan.

Today he would join a team hauling a bus around the city. He and the fifteen other transport slaves, all stark naked of course to underline their shame and their status as slaves; but also to whet and inflame the prurient interest of the ladies of the city, were backed into their sockets and the coupling tested to ensure it was properly locked. The main pole ran forward from the front bogie and it had four cross members running through it on both sides like the spars on a ship's mast. These cross-members had two of the female couplings on either side thus each cross member had four slaves attached to it. The leading slave on the left inner position was harnessed with bridle and reins which led back to the driving position.

The driver, a slight young lady climbed up onto her seat at the front and flicked the reins. All sixteen slaves now took off in step, while she steered them out of the depot and onto the road.

Immediately everyone stopped to watch as the sixteen stark naked, handsome, armless but very well muscled young slaves dragged the vehicle at a smart trot along the road to the first stop where they would pick up their first passengers for a tour of the city sights.

The Department made sure the teams were matched as far as possible and so each of Mark's colleagues in this team were castrates and were armless although that didn't necessarily apply to the other teams. The leading four were Caucasian, the second row Oriental, the third row Black and the fourth row, to which Mark belonged had two Caucasians and two Blacks. He could thus see ahead to most of the others and he had reason to admire their sleek muscles as he strode along.

He was not homosexual. Hell, he wasn't anything now that he was a castrate, but he could admire good muscles on a male and he did this now, wondering what it would be like to feel their flesh against his own after being restricted to his mistress for the last two years.

He found the effort minimal but he had to concentrate on keeping in step with the others or lose the rhythm and that meant disaster for the coupling would drag him along regardless of whether he was on his feet or not and since his feet were as bare as the rest of him, the harsh pavement would do a lot of damage to his feet if he stumbled. And so he didn't look at the beautifully displayed muscles of his colleagues as much as at their feet.

His passengers did though. Every one of them had a perfect view of sixteen boyish buttocks, pounding thighs, heaving chests and straining backs as the driver guided them along the historic streets of the city, stopping occasionally to point out a building or other landmark. And every pair of eyes were glued to the sweating flesh of their human steeds. All had of course had the opportunity to walk around the team before they mounted the benches under the awnings and all had oohed and aahed as they beheld the sexless groins and glabrous, hairless bodies of each slave. They were allowed to reach out and feel their flesh--this too added to the shame and humiliation of the slaves. To be pawed over like animals at an auction was a most shameful thing and especially when the lady in question put her hand down to his groin and whispered into his ear that she would have liked to have seen him being castrated…

The tour took an hour and a half and then they returned to the stop to set down this first lot and pick up the next. Their driver watered them also at this time but if they needed to urinate, they had to cock a leg up and do it right there in the street, yet another shame to add to their misery. And all during the break crowds of women gathered around to ogle and leer at them, the privileged ones getting to feel and fondle their muscles at the same time.

They had been told they must not in any way try to avoid the questing fingers of the ladies. Their bodies were now in the public domain and were available to be eyed and felt at will when they weren't actually trotting around the streets. Mark came to hate those rest periods for at least when he was sweating at the bar, no-one was fondling his body and commenting to her friend on his fine muscles or speculating at his now absent genitals.

They started at six in the morning and finished at ten at night when they were hosed down and scrubbed by their 'grooms', young males who had been allocated to this task by their employer, the Department of Transport. The grooms also fed them night and morning and saw to their excretion of solid wastes. They slept in stalls in the 'stable' which housed all the transport slaves. Mark was allocated to a stall with the three other slaves of his pole and now, for the first time, he got to feel the naked body of another male close to his. He decided it wasn't all that bad and snuggled up close to Jason, one of the big blacks.

There was no question of sex, of course. They were all eunuchs, sexless castrates whose genital organs had been removed in their entirety. But it was still pleasant to feel the hard muscles and silky skin rubbing against your own and Mark felt secure for the first time since his conviction.

Every day followed the next. They were roused at five, hosed and scrubbed, fed, and then backed into their position on the bar. At five-thirty they were out on the road and at six were at the station to receive their first clients of the day. Even at that hour, there was no shortage of passengers and Mark and his team had to stand and wait as tickets were shown and the ladies mounted the benches to sit and stare at their backs as they took off and trotted around the roads.

All day, every day. No holidays; no Sunday, day of rest for them. Every day was the same although the routes varied. On the days they were assigned to the tour which included Male Disciplinary sites, they had to drag their passengers to watch as males under punishment were publicly flogged, hung or impaled. The authorities, conscious of the beneficial aspects of performing these disciplines in front of both the citizen ladies and the slave males, staged these events at stated periods and the tour buses were a part of the day's festivities.

The scaffolds where the punishments were administered were in different parts of the city and the tour always started with the floggings. The males were brought out clothed so that their public stripping would add to their shame. Each was stripped up on the scaffold and cuffed to one of a series of posts which poked up at three foot intervals at its back. The lad to be flogged first was brought forward and suspended upside down by his ankles which were drawn wide open, and then the punishment ordered by the court was read out.

She raised the fearsome instrument, holding it in both hands and brought it down hard on his boyish cheeks. He screamed of course and she waited until his gyrations had ceased before administering the next stroke.

Mark stared up at the scene in horror. He hated these days. He well knew if he stepped out of line again, he could face any of the three punishments they would be seeing today. They stayed there an hour or so, watching as each handsome young male followed, each suffering the paddle, whip of cane to various parts of his body as directed by the court.

Then the passengers mounted up again and off they went to the hanging scaffold. Here the prisoners went through the same procedure of being stripped naked, had the nooses placed around their necks and were dragged over to the long cross beam with the dozen blocks dangling from it. The guards stepped up on a box and threaded each rope in turn through the blocks and then hauled the boy aloft. There they dangled with just their tip toes touching the floor of the scaffold, stark naked, most with massive erections, to hang until they eventually died. The wise ones pulled up their legs and strangled quickly; those less sensible hung there in agony for hours while the ladies and their slaves stared up at them, the one group leering at the pain and terror of the slaves; the other scared witless that next session it might be them up there.

But the impalement scaffold was by far the worst. This sentence was reserved for males who committed offences against women. Looking at them without authority; touching them, even by accident; failing to please; and other most heinous offences.

The scaffold boasted six chromed steel stakes. These came to a blunted point at the top, some five feet from the floor, but spread in a long cone. At the base, the cone was two feet across; half way up it was a full twelve inches. The points were blunted to prolong the victim's agony. If they had been sharpened, the stake would have more easily pierced vital organs and brought about a quick death. The rounded, blunted point meant the instrument would slide past rather than penetrate the organs. And each stake to be used was smeared with petroleum jelly to facilitate his downward movement.

Here again, the males were led out clothed and then ceremoniously stripped naked and tied to posts at the rear of the scaffold. The first was then dragged forward and four muscular female guards grabbed him by his thighs and torso, raised him up over the chromed metal point and seated his anus firmly on it. Of course he struggled and screamed mightily (which pleased the audience) as they positioned him but they were strong women and always managed to get his asshole over the shaft and its tip well inside him. They then let him go and down he went, his anus being stretched to impossible widths as he slid inexorably down the shaft. His hands were tied behind his back but his contortions and his screams were lapped up by the watching females.

Each boy was placed on the other stakes and then the guards left the scaffold allowing the hundreds of spectators a clear view of the six naked males dangling on the five foot stakes, at least half of their length already impaled inside their rectums. This meant their anuses were now stretched to a twelve inch diameter and most had already ruptured, allowing trickles of blood to run down the gleaming chromed surface. All were struggling beautifully, their fine muscles rippling and contorting most erotically… for the government was not insensible to the lust it was rousing in its citizens by staging these public punishments.

It needed support of the female electorate to go ahead with the next stage of its degrading of all males. The technology was now at hand to produce males in quantity and thus rid the state of noisy, polluting engines. They could even gestate girl babies in special clinics thus saving womankind of the necessity of carrying her child herself. These would be a far cry from the huge factories with the great glass tanks where males would be bred en masse, but the technology was the same.

Watching as males were punished and executed naked and in highly erotic circumstances was an excellent way to tease the lady citizens into supporting the principle that all males were, or should be, slaves from birth.

Mark knew nothing of this of course. At his training establishment, most of his time had been spent in physical training to develop and hone his body to perfection. What mental education he had received involved domestic duties since he had long been earmarked for personal service. He was never allowed to learn to read or write and arithmetic was a total mystery to him. He had been conditioned from birth to think of women as goddesses; as far removed from him as an ape. In fact, he didn't even know they were of the same species.

Still, as he watched the six males being impaled, he realised, deep down, that the ladies who were watching in obvious pleasure and lust, were very close to him physically, and that perhaps once, they might have been equal. He shuddered as he realised the way his thoughts were going. This was treason and treason led to that scaffold over there…

The males died slowly. They were given no water and they slowly dehydrated in agony. The pressure on their internal organs and that which was continuing to stretch their anuses wider and wider as they settled ever further down the so smooth greasy stakes caused untold agonies but it was a slow death.

This being the piece de resistance of the day, they remained here for quite some hours while the ladies lapped up the males' agony and watched as one after the other died.

It is no wonder the transport slaves hated that duty above all else but there was another one which was nearly as bad. As the number of transport slaves increased, the Department came up with an even better money raiser. A single chariot-like vehicle with a long pole out front, fitted with the same female coupling to take the ball at the back of each male's belt, was designed and a prototype built. The Director-General selected Mark, as one of the most handsome of her department's slaves to test it out. He had to draw her around the city and she tested him to the limit, selecting steep hills and even some river crossings. The work was hard. Much harder than sharing the load with fifteen other members of a team and when, after four solid hours, she returned him to the depot, he was all but exhausted.

He stared at her in hate. The guards grinned, jumped forward and in no time had Mark dangling up side down, his legs spread as wide as they could get them while one took up the heavy paddle with both hands, raised it over her right shoulder and then slammed it down across both his cheeks. He screamed beautifully while the D-G just about creamed in her panties. When they let him down at last he collapsed on the floor and even a bucket of water couldn't arouse him. The combination of the four hour stint on the chariot together with the punishment for his cheekiness in daring to show his hate, had proved too much for his body to handle. Now it was back to more of the capstan, this time with three others of the new team also attached but with a much heavier load. They also had to walk faster, much faster, even getting up to a trot at times under the whips of the guards who goaded them unmercifully.

But it worked. By the time the D-G next came down to check them out, all were able to pull the chariots all day.

They now became a sort of personal taxi, with a small boy as driver and the client or clients seated next to him, able to get a good view of the naked human horse pulling them along.

The D-G has come up with one last 'refinement'. It is not something Mark enjoys at all. It is a dildo attached to a lever which in turn is attached to a new stud welded onto his belt. The dildo goes deep up into his ass and when the passenger thinks he is slacking she can pull on the rope which is attached to the lever. This drives the dildo even further up into his asshole and he quickly picks up the pace.

Mark served six months as a chariot slave but then his former owner came to the depot with the Director-General.

Maria Hurley drove him back to her house herself. He was a very pretty male and it would be nice to have him back in her house. Besides, she wanted to show him something. Mark had come, in the six months he had been assigned as a chariot slave, to adore the small boy who was his driver, groom and attendant, and he had been glad the boy had gone with the deal. The boy always snuggled up to his magnificent body in the straw at night and they had become very close.

Now the boy led him up to the house where they were shown into Maria's study. She smiled up at him from behind the desk in the centre of the room.

Mark paled, his handsome face crumpling in horror as he was reminded of his castration, for there, inside the large transparent block, were his cock and balls, perfectly preserved for posterity. Mark is just eighteen years old. He has perhaps another ten to twenty years under this regime of work, work and more work, all day, every day, before his body finally succumbs somewhere between thirty and forty. It isn't a pleasant prospect but the ladies ensure no male is ever allowed near a means of ending his life earlier. Their lives belong to womankind and while they may be painfully terminated at their whim, no males is going to be allowed the chance to do it himself.