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Category: Erotica/BDSM Erotica
Description: Imagine a world where women are called fems and have always been chattels with no rights at all. Not slaves, but pets, intelligent domestic animals. In the Britain of this parallel world, the only protection they have are the laws intended to prevent the mistreatment of pets, and the earnest efforts of the Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Fems (RSPCF). The concept of marriage has never existed in this world, except among some remote, primitive tribes. Imagine a world filled with obedient, loving, pet fems, taxicabs pulled by fems, naked extreme fem boxing and wrestling, and fems performing just about every imaginable service for the pleasure and convenience of men. Selectively bred and always beautiful, fems provide every possible kind of sexual pleasure. Like all domesticated animals, obedience and loyalty are valued traits, while viciousness and unpredictability are ruthlessly stamped out. Fems are strictly forbidden by law to ever cover their genitals with clothing, so that no fem can ever pose as a man. An uneasy balance exists between those who would treat fems as valuable, treasured creatures, like pedigree dogs or pure-bred horses, and those who would strip all protection from fems so that they can be ruthlessly exploited. Even the world's religions are split into factions on this matter. But suddenly things come to a head because of a horrible massacre of male children, with the finger of blame pointed at a group of feral women. Hardliners clamour for a mass cull of fems in the area and the removal of legal protection from all fems. Feelings grow so strong that a civil war seems possible and even the first World Wide War that this world has ever experienced. Parker Hammond is a man of our world, a divorced ex-police officer, who lost his career and his wife when his liking for sadistic sex was exposed by a muck-raking female journalist. He suddenly finds himself drawn into this alternate dimension and tasked to investigate the massacre. Follow Parker and his loyal pet fem Susan, as he fights to survive and find a new life in the world of Paradigm Shift.
eBook Publisher: Fiction4All/FetishWorld,
eBookwise Release Date: April 2011

7 Reader Ratings:

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Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [259 KB]
Words: 60854
Reading time: 173-243 min.

Parker rammed himself into the writhing woman beneath him, taking pleasure in her gasps and the way her arse juddered and her sweat slick body trembled. He had not felt in control for so long, and just for this brief hidden time he was himself again. His large, powerful hands gripped her hips like a vice, holding her helpless and still as he penetrated her again and again. It was as if he could push away all the anger and humiliation that burned in his heart like a smouldering coal eating a hole in his flesh. He looked down with satisfaction at his huge solid cock, looking like a lacquered shaft of oak as it stabbed into the wet clasping depths of her cunt. At least that was one thing what had not failed him. He knew a lot of men lost their virility along with their jobs and their wives, but the anger and despair only made him harder. If the SAS had taught him anything, it was never to give up, not even as the last dregs of your life blood trickled from your torn veins. The anger also woke the darker side of his desires, and he smiled as his hands squeezed the hot, rigid weals that criss crossed her bottom. Fortunately for her, the SAS had also taught him self control, so his fingers only crushed the flesh of her bum and not her throat. Besides, he liked women and still enjoyed their company. It was only his wife and his bitch of a female ex-boss that made him want to get out his combat knife. He wasn't wearing a condom and he could feel every ridge and bump of her vagina as he rode her hard, his muscles looking like steel bands wrapping and flexing around his body. With a roar, he accelerated his fucking, the sound of his loins slapping against her thighs and buttocks resembling that of a boxer's fists pounding a punching bag.

The girl came, shouting and moaning and biting the bed sheets.

Her orgasm trigged his own, and he ripped his cock out of her spasming cunt. He growled "Get your mouth around here."

She expertly spun around on her hands and knees and opened her mouth wide, tongue extended.

Parker placed the slime covered tip of his cock on her tongue and pumped his shaft twice with his hand. The touch of her tongue and the sight of her patiently waiting mouth was enough. A glittering stream of come spurted out of the tip of his cock, flowing over her tongue and into her mouth like a pearly tide.

Unlike a porn actress, she simply swallowed, closing her lips around the head of his cock and sucking expertly until he had finished coming.

He fell back onto the bed and smiled at the girl who lay down beside him, her head resting on his arm. He kissed her forehead and said, "Good one. Thanks. I really needed to blow off some steam."

She smiled back with genuine affection and said, "Happy to be of service. But I'm too expensive. You shouldn't be wasting your money like this."

He grunted. "It was either you or stick my pistol in my mouth." He gave her a squeeze. "You're prettier."

She kissed his cheek and said, "I'm sorry, but I've got to go, otherwise the boss will make me charge you for another hour." She rolled off of the bed and dressed with the efficiency that came of much experience. She waved and went out the door.

Parker stared at the ceiling. The dark clouds of depression closed around him again. After fighting for his country all over the world with the SAS and then working his way up to Detective Superintendent in the Metropolitan Police, he was ignominiously kicked out of the force after a female investigative journalist discovered that he had a taste for sadistic sex and tricked him into having an affair with her. When the blow by blow account of their lovemaking appeared in the papers under the banner headlines "Perverted Justice", the force dumped him like a hot potato -- followed soon after by his wife, who's fictional but lurid description of his sexual mistreatment of her encouraged the court to hand over what was left of his assets and income to the lying ..." He wanted to use a word like "bitch" or "cunt", but the sad fact was that he still loved her in a masochistic kind of way. He sighed and glanced at the drawer in the bedside table. Perhaps it was a good time for the pistol after all. He had just blown every last penny that he had on the escort, and things weren't going to get any better than this. But before he could reach for the gun, his mind seemed to fill with a dark, throbbing vibration, as if the universe was beating in time with his heart, and then he fell into a deep, death-like sleep.

The room sounded different. The bed under him felt different. He had woken up under every conceivable condition, from rock desert to Antarctic ice cap, and before he opened his eyes he was certain that he was not in his apartment any more, and that he wasn't wearing the T-shirt and shorts that he had on when he dozed off. Worse, he wasn't alone. He could smell people both male and female, powerful electronic equipment, and most significantly, gun oil. Years of intense, almost deadly, training and even more years of experience prevented him from displaying any physical signs of waking, and his breathing stayed deep and steady as he opened his eyelids the tiniest crack.

A man's voice, cultured, middle aged, said, "You can open your eyes Mr Hammond, I know that you are awake. You are in no danger." His accent was strange. Not foreign, but -- different.

Parker opened his eyes and said, "If I'm so safe, why is there someone with a gun behind me?"

The same man said, "The guard was a precaution. We don't always get what we aim at."

Parker chuckled. "Sounds like the US Air Force. Can I sit up without being shot?" When the man nodded he pushed himself up and slowly looked around the room and then at the hospital gown that covered his nudity. He took in the exotic equipment that surrounded him like a cocoon, the unfamiliar design of the guard's weapon, the design of their clothing and the fact that the woman who was dressed a bit like a nurse had no pants on. He looked steadily at the man and said, "Two questions -- Am I drugged or mentally unbalanced? And if not, am I still on Earth?"

Parker noted a murmur of surprise amongst all the people in the room -- correction, all the men in the room. The woman just stood quietly, her eyes watching alertly. He found it hard not to stare at the woman's bare pussy. If indeed she really was a woman and not some kind of science fiction android.

The man smiled and said, "My name is Professor Sean Rafferty. I am the one to blame for bringing you here, and as you might have noticed, everyone is impressed with your calm, adaptability and keenness of observation. With regard to your questions, the answers are a little bit complicated, so please believe me when I say that I'm not trying to avoid giving you an answer."

Parker nodded and said, "I'm listening."

Professor Rafferty said, "First, let me assure you that you are not drugged or mentally deranged. You are still on Earth, but not your Earth." He slowly moved closer. "I know that you are a reader of science fiction. Are you familiar with alternate timeline or parallel universe concepts?"

Parker raised an eyebrow, but nodded slowly. "Yes I am. Simply put, significant events in history, natural or man made, create splits or branches in the timeline, leading to different futures. Or in the parallel universe idea, multiple 'realities' have always existed, like many digital film tracks running side by side in a single file. Are you saying -- "

The Professor nodded. "I'm afraid so. You are in a parallel universe or dimension. As you can see, in a broad sense, things developed just as they did in your dimension. You are still in the city of London, in a country called Great Britain. Obviously, we speak English." He saw Parker's eyes flick over to the woman in the room and he smiled. "Yes, I think the two most significant differences as far as you are concerned, are that first, I invented dimensional travel. The second is that the status of female humans worked out very differently here. Women or Fems as we call them, have no legal status almost anywhere in the world, save for in a few very primitive cultures in Africa and the Amazon. They are considered chattels, property, very similar to the domesticated dog. The strange concept of, what do you call it, oh yes, 'marriage', has never existed here.

Parker's gaze shifted irresistibly to the "nurse" and a wide grin began to slowly spread over his face.