“How wonderful to see you again honey,” the imposing old lady announced warmly.

Dean looked around nervously, hoping that her voice wouldn’t attract unwanted attention.

Doctor Proudcoven was more than a head taller than him in her platform heels and her white hair was bound in a single plat that ran down her back, almost touching her enormous backside. Her obese frame made Dean feel small, powerless and repulsed all at once. Next to her, he felt like the stereotypical gold digger and hoped that nobody would recognize him.

Her shape was intimidating and distinctly feminine. Dean knew that it was common for ladies to exaggerate their own feminine endowments with extra padding in the hips and bust of a dress. Despite their size, her breasts could not hide her large belly. And her hips appeared more than twice the width of Dean’s fashionably lean frame.

He was accustomed to ladies being larger than him but Dr Proudcoven bested him in every dimension by a significant margin. He never understood the fascination that femme had with appearing tall and wide, and had always found lean femme to be much more attractive. But in the femme professional world, a large imposing frame conveyed dominance and success. It showed that she rejected old-fashioned expectations of feminine beauty. A powerful lady like her felt no need to cater to masculine preferences. She was above that; above them.

Dean’s mind was racing through every possible scenario, imagining how he could defend himself if she attacked him. He knew that he probably couldn’t overpower her, but his superior athleticism would allow him to easily get away from her if he had to.

She placed her hand half on his back and half on his buttock causing him to jump slightly before restraining himself. A mixture of emotions came flooding back as he let the sixty-something lady hold his flesh possessively for all to see. In an instant, he felt powerless, violated, repulsed, but somehow secure. Underneath the fear and disgust, Dean missed the simple easy life as one of lady Lockwood’s ‘Play Puppies’.

With his arms folded in front of himself, he stepped away slightly only for her to move subtly after him. He wondered what the ladies behind them thought about him, he looked like a gold digger preying on a lonely old lady. And no casual observer would assume that she was interested in him for intelligent conversation.

As they approached the front of the queue they stood next to a black poster with three boys wearing pink g-strings and pink body-paint saying the words’Queen voters only’. Bold pink text at the top read’Femme rights are sexy again’. The restaurant had posted it proudly on their street-facing façade.

Dean looked away and pretended that he didn’t see it. He reminded himself why he was here.

“Just enough to get those social credit points and for her to pay for the surgery. No more, no less,” he thought.

Once at the front of the line, the young host boy took a long couple of moments to check the reservations on the pad. It wasn’t clear to Dean if he was new to the job or if he was just a bit slow.

“Okay, this way,” he announced with an inviting hand.

“First job out of school sweet heart?” Doctor Proudcoven leaned in and gave his bicep a squeeze. It was much bigger than Dean’s; much closer to the ideal size in the eyes of most femme. Her eyes lingered on the masculine veins in his forearms.

The waiter nodded with an embarrassed smile.

Dean wished that he could spend more time in the gym, but only seemed to be working longer and longer hours every year.

“Not to worry, with looks like yours I’m sure that you will do fine,” she chuckled.

The waiter reciprocated with an artificial laugh that Doctor Proudcoven appeared to interpret as genuine. That kept a confident smile painted on her face.

Dean could see her eyes follow his muscular butt as he led them through the restaurant. His shorts were skin tight and barely covered his ideal young flesh. As they moved toward the back of the restaurant, several ladies turned their heads to follow the host.

Looking around, Dean immediately noticed that the place was filled with wealthy older ladies. He caught several of them staring at him also. Every table had at least one lady above the age of 40. In today’s world only older femme could afford such opulence. Since the genetic improvements, older people just weren’t retiring. This made it difficult for the next generation to move up the ladder.

The lighting was low and golden in the back corner of the restaurant. Dean was surprised to see several couples of old ladies and young males sitting together in small tables made for two. They were made of dark intricately carved wood.

“Welcome to the lovers lounge. A more intimate setting, perfect for your romantic evening,” the waiter announced.

Dean wanted to run and hide.

“But where not-” Dean was interrupted by the louder voice of Doctor Proudcoven.

“Oh perfect!” she said, “Thanks hunn.”

The waiter kadıköy escort pulled out a chair for her and she gladly sat down.

“Oh what a well behaved boy you are. I wish I could get help like you at home.”

The boy forced a chuckle before walking away.

Dean found refuge in the menus that lay before him as soon as he sat down. He picked one of them up before reading that it was for beverages.

“Keen for a drink I see!” she said before clicking her fingers for the host boy to return.

“Hey honey, be a doll and fetch us a bottle of your 85 Merlot Premium Grade.”

Dean shot up in his seat in response to her presumptuous order but the waiter nodded and was gone before he could gather his thoughts to insist against it.

He was sure that she wanted to get him drunk and take advantage of him. His stomach churned at the thought of the fat old hag having her way with him. He swallowed hard and tried to distract himself with the mains menu.

“You look very handsome this evening,” she smiled, “Those ladies over there were all looking at your butt you know. They’re all jealous of me. But only I understand how hard you had to work for it,” She added with a slightly raised chin and a sideways look to the table opposite.

He didn’t know how to respond. He felt small and powerless, yet oddly affirmed. He forced his mind from uncomfortable thoughts and turned his attention back to the menu.

He was genuinely shocked at the price tag on some of the menu items. Dr Proudcoven was apparently wealthier than he initially realized. Normally he would be impressed but he knew that it didn’t matter, he knew that she was a manipulative and evil lady who would take advantage of her position of power over him any chance she got.

Dean’s cock began to stir slightly. He shifted in his seat and rearranged his underwear to accommodate. He felt repulsed by her and despised himself for reacting with mindless submission.

“What kind of a boy would react like this to such an ugly, old and arrogant Lady!” he silently berated himself.

She stopped a waiter and ordered two entrées from him. Her eyes followed the server as he made his way back to the kitchen then fixed on Dean. He looked out the window to observe twilight taking hold as the sun was replace by the street lights. He could feel her arrogantly staring into him as he tried to distract himself from the thought that she knew every part of him; even more than he did.

“So tell me some more about yourself, Dean Johnson. How is the feminine entertainment business treating you?” she wasted no time probing him.

“Well, I’m not in that field anymore. I work in advertising at Aphrodite campaigns,” he did his best to hide his anger towards her incredulous question.

“I’m sure that all of the Ladies appreciate having you as their receptionist,” her eyes wandered down to his tight-fitting shirt that revealed his firm and youthful pectoral muscles.

Dean opened his mouth to correct her but remembered that everything she said was accurate. He had recently been moved back to reception, so all he could do was grimace slightly.

“Is it a busy job? It must be challenging for a boy to keep up with such a competitive industry. Organizing entertainment and catering, answering the phone for some very important ladies. It must be a real challenge for you,” she said in a congratulatory tone.

“Well, I worked really hard through college and after graduation,” he added flatly.

“I… I bet.”

A lightning fast smirk broke free from her mouth, sending wrinkles across her leathery face. It appeared as though she was about to make a joke but forced herself to stifle it.

The waiter returned with a bottle of red wine and two glasses and began to pour it for them. He was closer to Dean but walked over to Dr Proudcoven to pour hers first.

“Would you like to order?” he placed the bottle back on the table and looked at her as he spoke.

“No thank you, we will finish our entrées first. Once this bottle is empty we will order, don’t disturb us before then,” she commanded confidently with a manicured index finger.

“Certainly my lady,” he replied with a timid bow and moved on without so much as a glance towards Dean.

He began to eat his entrée first so that he could dilute the wine.

“So, how are you finding the practice you work at?” Dean cringed when he heard himself utter such a boringly awkward question.

Her eyes lit up, “Good, not like back in Germany. I was trained over there before the fall. They were decades ahead of us in phalicological research! Fortunately I got a job over here before things fell apart.”

Dean nodded solemnly, unsure if he should be empathetic. But she kept on talking like it was nothing.

“Did you know that penis size is inversely correlated with IQ, but positively correlated with progressive political and religious values?”

“Sorry,” she sighed, “I mean.. boys with bigger cocks are dumber and more likely ümraniye escort to follow Dibella and vote Femme Lib. It really goes to show the negative effects of rigid logical male thinking.”

Rage almost bubbled to the surface, but he reminded himself that the entire date was a test. He just had to play the part.

“Wow,” Dean feigned interest but was furious inside. He stared at the menu and reminded himself of the goal; getting that damn piercing removed, and getting his social credit score back in the green. A contentious conversation was the last thing he wanted.

“Yeah. American scientists are only just discovering this now. But it’s been in the German literature for decades! “

“Interesting,” he said.

Dean could tell that she was putting on a brave face, they both knew that Europe had descended into chaos. Very little news ever made it out, but from what he had gathered, many millions had died from starvation and violence since the collapse of the entire continent. He immediately regretted his question when he saw the suppressed pain in her eyes.

“I have been pleasantly surprised by how things have progressed here. It’s no longer such a regressive patriarchy, but a living democracy that is changing to meet the future. Now America leads the world culturally.”

She sounded like someone from a political infomercial; Dean found this disconcerting.

He was also concerned to see that she wasn’t eating or drinking yet. He had already finished his starter and was ready to get on to the bottle of wine so that he could avoid uncomfortable conversation. He tried to move things along and raised his glass for a toast.

“To a happy evening,” he forged a smile.

“To a magical evening,” she countered as she tapped glasses and they gave off a high-pitched note together.

Dean drank a mouthful, then two, then a third. It was stronger than expected and it caused him to grimace. He looked to Dr Proudcoven to find that she had only taken a tiny sip to wet her wrinkled lips. She gazed back at him with predatory desire but he could not meet her eyes.

She knew his most intimate parts, parts that had fully surrendered to her despite his opposite will. Her confidence came off as entitlement to him, and he certainty didn’t find her attractive.

Never the less, somewhere deep down inside himself, all that mattered was the fact that she had power over him. Her eyes were filled with a desire that wanted to reproduce itself within him, changing him into something else, something that would fulfil all of her selfish desires. He had been down that road before, and some deep part of himself was still down there, beckoning him to surrender.

Dean’s chest felt tight and his heart began to pump harder. He wanted to run, go home and never speak to her again, but he steeled himself.

Looking around, it occurred to Dean that Dr Proudcoven shouldn’t be able to afford such a lavish restaurant for their date. At least not on the salary of a phalicologist. A profession like that was very popular amongst femme, resulting in an oversupply of qualified phalicologists that drove salaries down.

Either there was something that she wasn’t telling him or she was investing in him more than he realised.

Much to his relief, she finally began to eat her starter.

They began to speak some more about the differences between American culture and the culture of Europe before the crash. This was much more comfortable for Dean. In that time, he had almost completely finished his glass of wine.

Dr Proudcoven picked up the half empty bottle of merlot and topped up his glass. Her glass was still three quarters full and Dean was already beginning to feel a little lightheaded as he watched the burgundy liquid swirl and settle in the glass.

Fear of losing control continued to build inside of him but he expressed his thanks as a gentleman should.

She manoeuvred the conversation towards his family. Dean explained how he never knew his dad.

“Well, you had your mother growing up, that’s the main thing. Tell me about her,” she probed.

Dean was beginning to feel relaxed and answered her question without thinking, “Well, she is very religious.”

“Oh really?! That’s becoming more common these days,” her genuine surprise was expressed by her raised eyebrows.

“So she’s a sister?”

Dean paused for a moment desperately thinking of a way to deflect the conversation elsewhere.

He nodded reluctantly.

“Oh really!?” she was surprised once more.

Her eyes came alive and a joyful smile spread across her face.

Dean could see her mind ticking over. Wondering how a daughter of Dibella could allow her son to fall into such a demeaning career as a porn star. Wondering if he still harboured a desire to worship and submit to all things feminine. Wondering if his performances were more than merely an act.

“I am also a Noblefemme! And I’m now about to officially be ordained a witch of the ataşehir escort temple and start studying to be a Gynarch one day! I would love to meet your mother!” she beamed.

“Oh, she… we don’t talk anymore,” he said soberly.

“Oh Goddess, I see. I’m so sorry,” she leaned forward to hold Dean’s hand with both of hers.

Dean could see that she was less than surprised to hear that he didn’t have a relationship with her.

“What lady in her right mind would not disown such a whore,” he thought to himself.

“Maybe one day you will see each other again. Given the right circumstances, a mother can be more forgiving than any male can understand,” she soothed him.

Dean frowned. He knew which scripture in the Dibellan sacred text she was subtly referencing. He didn’t believe a word of what she was saying but he forced himself to give a hopeful nod and a fake smile.

He wanted to stop drinking but taking another sip of his wine was the only way that he could distract himself. Then another larger sip. Talking about his mother only reminded him of the lack of feminine affection in his life. It felt like a giant hole in his heart opening up and Dr Proudcoven was peering into it. She knew everything about his body, now his heart was being vulnerably laid bare.

She leaned back in her chair for a moment and smiled comfortably.

Dean felt tense. This was the last thing that he wanted to talk about and he wasn’t willing to wait for her to finish the wine. He took another big gulp and reminded himself of Riya Patel. His boss was the only femme that showed him love and respect, she was wealthy and had plenty to offer. He had never appreciated her more than in this moment. She was not an attractive lady but still much better looking than Dr Proudcoven. Most of all she offered him something that was most important. Respect.

He reminded himself that Riya would never manipulate him like this. She was his best hope for freedom and happiness; that was becoming clearer to him by the day.

“I’ve seen plans for the new Dibellan temple in Gynohale, it’s just gorgeous. It’s going to be just around the corner from the current one and will be the biggest in the world. And the artwork will be breathtaking; The atrium will have a mural of the eternal ladder of being standing twenty meters high!” her eyes wide with childlike excitement.

“The congregation is growing too fast to keep up! With so many sisters joining there is huge demand for Witches and Gynarchs to minister,” she beamed.

Thoughts of his youth came back to him. How he had swallowed the sexist teachings of the church of Dibella in his childhood, only to realise their bigotry in his teenage years. Dean felt rage building inside of himself.

“So you said that you are a Noblefemme. You think that you are superior to me?” He straightened himself defiantly as he spoke.

She stared him in the eye, “I know I am.”

“Well I think it’s immoral. You don’t have the right to own another person and attempt to justify it by claiming that its part of your identity. What about the identity of the male? Don’t his rights matter?” he protested.

The wine was clearly loosening his tongue and he felt another wave of lightheadedness. He felt like an observer, witnessing his own rage take over. That observer knew that he was in trouble, he knew that he couldn’t afford to antagonize her.

She shifted to a slightly aggressive tone, “A typical male-rights argument. Always from the male perspective, never considering others. Your disagreement only comes from a place of selfishness and pride, not love. You are speaking from the fallen masculine state that cares only for the ego, with no regard for the natural order of things. But the Goddess is reasserting her natural order on the world.”

She shook her head.

“My silly boy. For your sake, I hope that you will repent before the time comes. But I know that there is still a good boy inside of you. I’ve seen you serve Dibella with humble selflessness before. I still enjoy your body of work you know. But you have strayed and will be damned for all eternity if you continue down this path. But it’s still not too late to be saved from that Dean.”

She reached out to place a compassionate hand on his but he pulled away and placed it in his lap.

“These are all crazy delusions. Don’t you know how irrational you sound!? I know that you don’t actually care about me,” he snapped.

“Ha”, she scoffed, “Masculine rationality is an inferior mode of thought. Feminine intuition is much more enlightened and sophisticated. Here you are, a primitive male, thinking that we are having a debate. There is no debate, no discussion. How can I discuss the color pink with a blind lady? In the same way, I can’t debate these deep truths with a boy because boys are spiritually blind. The Goddess intended for blind boys to be led by her faithful daughters.”

Dean took another sip of his wine and looked away with a cold stare. All thoughts of his objectives had been washed away.

“I am just trying to guide you back down the path of truth. Every day, more and more males are finding truth through a spirit of obedience.”

She pulled out her phone and opened an application with a red logo that read,SubHub. Then the screen filled with scantily-clad young males and Dean immediately looked away.