An Unlucky Patient in a Man’s World: Chapter 1

After a mishap during an internet challenge, Judy finds herself falling further and further into the grasp of one devious Dr. Andrew Dickens.

Author’s Notes: Story tags apply to the whole story, not each individual chapter.

Story Tags:

Introduction to a Man’s World

In the year 20XX, a strain of virus devastates half of the population and changes human genomes forever. The fertility rate drops in half. The female population outnumbers men by a factor of three. At birth, female babies outnumber male babies by a factor of five. On the other hand, the emerging male population is a perfect specimen of good-looks and virility.

To recover the world population, drastic measures are implemented. Babies, from the moment they are born, are separated from their parents, raised, and completely sponsored by government-appointed institutions in secluded areas in order for the adults to focus on reproduction.

The scarcity and importance of the male population skyrocket men into first-class citizens and laws are changed to reflect that standard. All sexual crimes against women are abolished and polygamy is the norm. All contraception methods are banned.

To increase the copulation rate, Morality Laws have come into effect. Women are banned from wearing pants and shorts for ease of public intercourse. In the summer or when the temperature reaches a certain threshold, women must wear short skirts or dresses no longer than their buttocks. Cleanly shaven from the neck down and wearing panties are compulsory for women in public. Violating the Morality Laws will be severely punished.

The fingerprint recognition system is deemed archaic and replaced by the genital prints recognition system that is linked to every facet of a person’s life. Paying and authorizing by scanning the genitals has become increasingly popular. Genitals prints have replaced handwritten signatures and fingerprints.

As time goes by, an abundance of new customs and etiquettes seeks to empower and glorify men. Obeying and serving men are women’s sole purpose and greatest honor in life.


Chapter 1

It has been a horrible day for Judy. She was strolling down a busy shopping street when a girl got her dress pulled over her head and tied to her hands. Her dress essentially became a case enclosing her head and arms like a perverted bubble fabric. Her bras and underwear were taken away. She was practically naked with zero chance of fixing her predicament. The poor thing frantically bumped around like a headless chicken, shouting for help. And, of course, no one would.

Despite empathizing with the poor girl, Judy stayed as far away as possible, fearing she might become the next target of the testosterone-fueled jeering crowd, especially since she was wearing a similar mini-dress. Her heart racing, she cut her trip short and walked home, only to encounter another girl who had her panties robbed and then spanked on her bare butt for resisting.

The consecutive degrading scenes shocked her to the core. Before she realized it, she had cut through a nearby park.


Sitting on a bench, she takes a few deep breaths to calm her nerves. It’s a beautiful afternoon with gentle breezes and warm light enveloping her skin. She feels much better now. On a bench, no one can approach her from behind and pull her clothes up or down, but she’s relieved too soon.

A towering shadow looms over her. She looks up and finds a man with pearly white teeth smiling at her. “Sir, do you need to relieve yourself?”

While public restrooms are available, men much prefer unleashing their full bladders inside the warm, velvety cocoon of women’s mouths. She’s about to ask for his urine when he says, “Curtsy to me.”

“Yes, sir.” She stands up, bending her knees, raising her mini-dress above her waist with both hands. Her gaze respectfully lands on his crotch, showing her submission to his manhood, which causes her to miss his next movement completely.

He swiftly grabs her waistband, slips a cable lock inside her panties, and ties her underwear to the bench armrest.

“Sir, what are you doing? Unlock me!” She futilely yanks on the offensive steel cable, ignoring her naked vulva exposed in the air now that her underwear has slipped down to her thighs.

“Haven’t you heard of the Panties Lock Challenge? Be grateful. You have the honor of being my first.” He pulls out his phone and takes pictures of her shameful predicament. “Smile, whore.”

Her lips quiver with rage but the image of that girl’s red bottom flashes in her mind. The last thing she wants is to be spanked in public. She stretches her lips into a thin line and curves her anger into a smile.

“Lift your dress like you’re curtsying. Show off your cunt.” He smirks.

“Yes, sir.” She lowers her eyes, examining the pavement while spreading her legs and lifting the hem of her dress. She stands with her knees bending at a weird angle as her panties are secured to the armrest and stretched by the cable lock. To her surprise, when a crisp wind sweeps past her loins, the cool sensation naughtily informs her of her soaking-wet nether regions.

“You’re loving it. Don’t you, slut?” He grins wildly, aiming the camera at her glistening labia.

A wave of heat crashes on her cheeks, dying them rosy. “Yes … yes, sir.”

At her own admission, the flame in her loins roars, scorching her core.


“I love you humiliating me, sir!”

“Good slut.” He cups her cheek with one hand, squeezes her mouth open, and rewards her with a glob of spit.

“Thank you, sir.” She swallows his saliva, briefly closing her eyes to avoid the burning leers of the gathering crowd.

“Now, you can step out of your panties and walk your bare cunt home.” His large hand grabs her cheeks. “Don’t worry. I’m not cruel. I’ll write my number on your butt. The cops won’t bother you too much.”

For a woman, not wearing underwear is a violation of Morality Laws. She can spend a night in jail and be subjected to unforeseen humiliation unless a man vouches for her. Still, on the way home, she can be stopped and forced to go through humiliating body cavity searches by the police. Not to mention that the panties she leaves behind will become a trophy and be pinned on the nearest community board with her pictures after being doused in a bucket of stale semen. To have them removed from the board, she will have to change into her soiled underwear in public.

The thought sends a shiver down her spine. “Please, sir. Anything but that.”

“Anything?” His grip tightens. His grin deepens.

“Anything, sir.” She blinks away her doubt. Anything is better than the horror in her head.

“Alright, you’re my first. I’ll piss on your pussy. You’ll wear your soiled panties home. And we call that even.”

“Thank you, sir. Please piss on my cunt.” She eagerly beams. Her dress can hide her dirty underwear and most of her humiliation.

“Good.” He removes the offending cable lock and pulls up her panties, giving her a pussy wedgie.

When the crotch of her lingerie hits her swollen clit and splits her labia in half, a shooting pleasure pierces her vulva, her legs trembling, her teeth grinding, her eyes bulging. Then, a wave of shame envelops her. She blushes, staring at his shoes.

Her arousal doesn’t escape his keen observation. Grinning ear to ear, he unzips his pants and releases his mighty prick. His pride swells as he relishes her awe and hungry expression. To reward the dumbstruck slut, instead of aiming from afar, he slips his mushroom head inside her underwear, pressing on her throbbing clit, and unleashing a yellow torrent directly on her nether regions.

She gasps. Her swollen nub joyfully jumps up and down as the warm flood smashes directly on her most sensitive pearl, then rushes past her labia and down her thighs. It looks exactly as if she’s wetting herself. Her toes curl up, bracing against the tinkling pleasure in her groin. The never-ending stream keeps her on edge but refuses to push her over the top. Once the last drop trickles on the ground, she eyes his rod longingly and licks her lips. “Please let me clean your cock, sir.”

“Sure, slut.”

She drops down on her knees, wrapping her tongue on his pink bulbous tip, lapping up the remaining urine with the eagerness of a thirsty dog. Her goal is simple—spending as much time with his delicious cock as possible.

“Take off your dress and clean the bench too, cunt.”

“Yes, sir.” She longingly gives his crown one last hard suck before undressing. She folds her dress neatly and wipes the splattering droplets.

“What’s going on here?” A stern voice parts the crowd and a tall policeman soon appears before her.

A man says, “This slut wets herself so we’re making her clean up.”

The policeman turns to her. “Is that so?”

Her cheeks are boiling with shame, but she has no other choice and reluctantly nods. “Y-yes, sir.”

After a quick look at her soaked lingerie, the policeman has no reason to believe otherwise. “What about your wet panties? Are you going to dribble piss all the way home?”

“N-no, sir! I—”

“Shove your dirty underwear in your cunt or I’ll shove it somewhere else.”

“Yes, sir!” She scrambles to her feet and complies. The lacy and wet fabric scrubs against her soft walls, bringing a strange sensation she has never experienced before. Her love juice quickly fills her canal and down her thighs.

The policeman frowns at her still-dripping vulva. “I’ll give you a hand, slut.”

Before she realizes his meaning, a baton barrels into her vagina and nails the underwear against her uterus. She wails and grips his hand to no avail.

He grins. “Put your clothes on. I’ll escort you home.”

“Thank you, sir.” She sobs quietly, looking at the protruding rod between her pussy lips. “Can you take your baton out, sir?”

“Why? Your cunt looks much prettier now.” He laughs and the crowd quickly joins him along with jeers and whistles.

“You’re right, sir. Sorry, sir.” She blushes, then reluctantly bends over to pick up the dress and displays the pitiful state of her nether regions. Suddenly, the rod slowly slips out of her vagina. Frightened, she presses her thighs together, clenching her tender walls.

He smirks, grabbing the handle, ramming the rod deep, and hitting the door of her uterus with the piss-soaked panties. Her expression crumbles as she curls up on her feet, only for the steel baton to prop her up. “Hurry.”

“Yes, sir.” Her hand clenches her wet mini-dress before begrudgingly slipping the moist material on her milky skin. She can physically feel the urine seeping into her pores.

Grinning, he leads her away by the baton handle. “Let’s go, cunt.”

Her voice trembles as the pole yanks her inside forward. Her steps stutter on the pavement. “Y-yes, sir.”

“Lift your dress. Higher.” Annoyed by her clumsiness, he pulls her mini-dress above her breasts and pops her tits out of her bra. Her shamefully hardened nipples darken his grin. He grabs her fingers and places them on her labia. “Spread your pussy lips.”

Parting her vagina, she watches how her velvety slit swallows the black, thick pole. A fever rushes to her cheeks and pours into her groin, exuding naughty juice down the baton. Her eyes cast down to her pulsing clit, unable to meet people’s gazes on her way home, but her shame doesn’t end there. When they arrive at her apartment building, he makes her suck his baton clean on her knees. Then, he whips out his member and douses her in his yellow waste from top to bottom in front of her neighbors.

Her once beautiful tresses stick to her face as she wraps her lips around his manhood and laps up the remaining droplets. “Thank you for escorting me, sir.”

He smirks. “You’re welcome, slut.”

(To be continue)

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