#gynarch war

Oh, you’re going to fire?

I don’t think so. That gun seems awfully heavy for those weak male arms.

Especially with all that blood going to your cock.

Oh, don’t blame your scout - he had the misfortune to run into me and get dosed with the same pheromones you’re experiencing -- A half-dozen forced orgasms reinforced by some oxytocin therapy and we turned that pheromone arousal into the worst case of puppy love you ever saw. He didn’t want to betray you, but when I whispered in his ear about how his whole platoon was going to love me and my girls, his heart just went pitter patter.

Shhh .... It’s okay .... Yes, you need to escape. I respect that ...

Just keep looking into my eyes ...

You’ve figured out the secret of our POW camp. That the climate here inundates you with New Woman Pheromones.The air is saturated with them.

That they’re lipophilic, absorbed into your body, saturating your fatty tissues, so any new exposure later releases them and renders you helpless to New Women.

No brainwashing, no torture, no hypnosis. Just supersaturated tissues, so all we need to do is arouse you again, and you’re suddenly weak and helpless.

Don’t look at my breasts, just keep looking into my eyes ...

If you look at my breasts, all the blood will flow into your cock ...

You’ll be weak and  helpless ...

The gun will be so heavy ...

You’ll start thinking about just how strong I am ...

How powerful my smooth powerful latex-xx makes me ...

How my sexy red lips would feel on your nipple ...

Don’t step closer like that ...

Just keep looking in my eyes ...

Don’t think about silky chemical chains coming from my pussy ...

Wrapping gently around your cock ...

pulling you another step closer ...

Just keep looking in my eyes ...

and don’t think about how that gun can’t really hurt me ...

That these big pillowy breasts  can stop bullets ...

Keep that heavy gun pointed at me ...

the only power you have ...

that couldn’t penetrate my armor or breasts, or bones ...

Sooo heavy ...

as you step closer ...

Just keep looking in my eyes ...

Think of my hand reaching behind your head ...

stroking your ear ...

the gun dropping ...

your knees shaking ...

Pulling you in for the last, stumbling step ...

Just keep looking in my eyes ...

as I take your gun ...

as my leg gently moves between yours ...

as you hump, helplessly ...

as I stop your lips, just before mine ...

As all the memories of what you figured out drain to your cock ...

So that when we kiss ...

when your eyes roll back in your head ...

it all drains out ...

your will, your sperm, your memories ...

you remember nothing ...

just another happy well treated prisoner at Camp Gamma Yankee ...

{-*kiss*-}

I woke up in the barracks 

Wow, what a dream

“Hello Lieutenant. My name is Lucinda, and I’m going to be your Gynarch ordered sex counselor for the next three to six months. You can call me Lucy, or Lucinda, you do *not* call me me Mistress or Goddess. Now, do you know why you’re here.”

“Because Mistress Daniela said I had to obey you now. Because she didn’t love me, she just needed the information I had to win the war and now I’m ... now I’m useless ... {*sobs*}”

“Well, in the short term that’s true. In the long term, because we need to get those thoughts out of your head so you can function, and go forward in life now that the war is over. May I call you Jim, or do you prefer Jack?”

“Mistress Daniela called me ‘Jimmy’ ...”

“Yes, but we’re avoiding diminutives. There are a lot of things that the Gynapheme ... implanted into your fetishes for the war. Making humiliation, and risk exciting, an inability to pleasure yourself, a helplessness before New Women, that we’re going have to replace with more normal feelings of self-worth. Doing the dishes for or with your wife *should* be joyful, sacrificing everything helplessly for someone that doesn’t care was merely useful. Now, Jack or Jim, or something else?”

“Jim.”

She knew from the comprehensive notes that before the war, it had been ‘Jack’, a strong name that Major Daniela leCorte had broken him of as a matter of breaking his Identity. That he was holding on to ‘Jimmy’ despite everything was a testament to her ability to make men helpless, but it was an early indication that this was going to be a six month counseling session.

Despite accusations most authorities recognized that Pheromones did not qualify as chemical/biological agents under treaty, so  the allies rapidly got very good at knocking drones and cruise missiles laden with inexpensive pheromone agents out of the sky.

“I told you, several times, that I thought putting my latex-xx armor on would be mistake. That I didn’t particularly like my job during the war even though I was good at it.”

“But? Why am I tied up? I just wanted to see it, I knew you would look great …”

“And you just kept at it didn’t you? That it would be sexy and wonderful. And it’s your birthday, so I finally did it. And my postwar conditioning snapped off, just like that. ’didn’t particularly like my job’ - I *loved* my job. I was so *good* at it. I can’t believe I requested it be locked away.”

“Honey? We love each other honey? Right? You … you were a librarian you said you were a librarian …”

“Do you love me? I suppose we’ll find out. The things I could make men do once they loved me … oh yes …”

“No … please … YOU WERE A LIBRARIAN!!!!!”

Don’t Worry.

Your wife... and your protection detail ... thinks you’re in Cuba with your Mistress.

Your Mistress thinks you’re in Tahiti with your wife.

And I think by the time we meet again in Reykjavik, you’ll be happy to give the Gynarch any concessions we want.

So just relax, and let the sexy ladies plant fantasies deep in your mind ...

Studies of male sexuality have long showed that ‘sexiness’ depended partly on variation. A simple example was noticing that a woman had changed her hair or was wearing a new outfit.

The fact that exploitation of men's weaknesses meant more capture, less bloodshed and that things like rank and chain of command were communicated seamlessly with encrypted transponders making insignia redundant, meant Gynarch soldiers were encouraged to use Latex-XX suits to creatively distract and arouse.

Now just relax.

All the tension

All the resistance

flowing into your cock

while your insides melt

while your spine melts

while your brain melts

You are a still pond with an underwater river

the undertow pulls your resistance out your cock

and my power flows into your body

you IQ flows out your cock

and my mind flows up your spine

your loyalties flow out your cock

my desires flood your brain

the pond looks the same to everyone else

but all the water that flows in is mine now

all the resistance smoothed out, all the waves, all the ripples, all mine now