Shelacta (pronounced She-Lacta) is a contemporary parallel world very similar to our own early 21st Century world except in its sexual practices.
Sexual changes have affected the human race. Young women have become forced to be sexual predators. Once a woman has reached the age of 18 she is mature but she must force five men to orgasm before she becomes potentially fertile. At least one of the five of the five men must be killed by the sexual act of the pre-fertile woman. To help her achieve this women have mutated into developing sexual traps.
If a pre-fertile woman allows a man to penetrate her she loses her sexual trap and it is very difficult for her to become mature except with the help of consenting men. If a man penetrates a mature but pre-fertile woman he becomes immune to women’s sexual traps. If he penetrates a fertile woman her trap makes him her slave, whether or not conception occurs. The fertile woman controls whether she wants to conceive or not. The number of male slaves a woman has determines her status. Any of her slaves is at risk of death from a pre-fertile woman, or capture by another fertile woman.
A woman who has lost her sexual trap is an outcast even when fertile because she has no normal means of making a man her slave.
Chastity belts for either sex are both immoral and illegal. The possession or use of such a device is a capital offence and execution is almost inevitable.
A pregnant woman freezes her status once the pregnancy is confirmed. She can immunise her male slaves against other women by wiping her pussy over their faces at least once a week. She can do this if she is actually pregnant but the pregnancy isn’t yet confirmed.
A lactating woman is special. Even if she has lost her sexual trap she is attractive to men because her milk can free them. Every man who drinks a pint of her milk directly from her breasts becomes his own master again. He will be immune to sexual traps for life but from the first sip until he has drunk the whole pint he is the lactating woman’s slave and that slavery overrides all others even after she ceases to produce milk. Lactation is the only way for a woman who has lost her sexual trap to achieve status.
Males under the age of 18 are taboo and incapable of arousal. The best birthday present a family can give a son is to buy the services of a lactating woman until he has drunk a pint of her milk. Women who can produce a genuine pint at one feed are rare and much sought after. Most paid ‘milkers’ have to have several sessions with the fortunate son until the pint has been delivered. The procedure is embarrassing to the son because until he has drunk the full pint he is the ‘milker’s’ slave and as she is usually an outcast of low status his predicament makes him the butt of humour from his contemporaries. There have been several stage farces written around this situation. If she cannot deliver the full pint for whatever reason, he is her slave for life.
The author of these tales has limited access to view journals and magazines from Shelacta. From that access he has extracted some stories that might interest our world.
First Tale: Angela
Episode 1 Angela turns 18
It was Angela’s 18th birthday yesterday. Unlike boys for whom an 18th birthday is an entry into a perilous world and feared, girls’ 18th birthdays are celebrated in a formal way with a ritual examination at the Temple before her elder relatives demonstrate the variety of sexual traps available to her. Her older sisters, if any, and/or younger female relations discuss their traps with her. If her parents are wealthy they provide a helpless male for her to practise her trap on and score her first conquest. It is considered unfair for her parents to provide the five necessary men. One is normal. More is bourgeois and nouveau riche and not a sound introduction to adult life. A girl must earn her status.
Angela has an unusual trap. She can animate her clothing. Any item that she has worn and has not washed since she can use to capture a man. The more intimate the clothing the more effect it is likely to have on a male. She used her night dress on the male her parents provided. He was satisfyingly handsome and she became excited as her night dress slid over him, pinning his arms to his sides. The more excited she became the closer and tighter the night dress held him until he was immobilised in the black silk, breathing fast.
Angela walked slowly and carefully to the helplessly twitching man. He raised his eyes to her in a mute appeal as she pulled her damp panties from under her skirt. She dropped them pitilessly over his face. They strained across his mouth and nose, forcing him to inhale her scent. His hips jerked as he came inside his silken prison. Angela watched as his face turned red. His eyes bulged in his sockets from lack of breath before she relented and let her panties loosen enough to let him gasp like a landed fish.
Angela played with him all night long. He was drained and exhausted before she let her night dress unwind itself. He crawled away to claim the payment from her parents. The five men had to be different men. One ejaculation from each was enough but Angela had forced this one to come five times just with a night dress and the same pair of panties. ‘Efficient’ she thought to herself.
She also thought of her own reactions. She could have imagined herself being penetrated by such a man. That sort of thought wouldn’t do. She had to be merciless and she had to kill at least one man of the four left.
The day after her birthday she decided she would hunt. She had prepared her clothing. Around her shoulders she draped a large scarf, large enough to be a sarong. That scarf she had wiped between her legs as she watched last night’s man helplessly convulsing inside her silken bonds. Everything she was currently wearing had been close to her damp pussy last night and her perfume wafted behind her as she stalked through the city’s streets.
Men were scurrying by, doing whatever they did. Angela didn’t care. She just wanted one on his own.
She walked into the park at lunchtime. There was a suitable target, an older but still good looking man sitting on a bench eating his lunch. Behind the bench were some shrubs. She walked around them and approached him from behind, taking the scarf from her shoulders and holding it spread between both hands. She raised it behind his unsuspecting head and let it fall across his face. Now she had him!
He picked the scarf from his face and neatly folded it on his lap before turning his head to her.
“Hello, Angela.” he said.
Angela was shocked. How could he have resisted her trap and be so calm about it?
“Do I know you?” she asked with a quiver in her voice. She was frightened. A man who was immune to her trap could be a real danger.
“Probably not, but I know who you are, Angela. I haven’t seen you since you were a toddler. I used to be known as ‘Uncle Dave’ but I’m not really your uncle.”
“Uncle Dave? Mum talks about you occasionally. Who are you and how…?”
“How did I resist your trap? That’s easy. Marion, your mother, fed me when she was producing milk for you. She never gave me the whole pint because you needed so much. I’ve been her slave ever since. She’s very undemanding. I get used as an escort if she wants to go to see a play your father doesn’t care for. It’s an ideal life for me and I’m very grateful to her. She asked me to sit here today.”
“Because she thought you would be overconfident and take a risk. You did, didn’t you? I could have been any protected male and the penalty for failing with your sexual trap…”
“No. I wouldn’t. I owe your mother too much. Come and sit beside me. It’s uncomfortable talking over my shoulder.”
Angela walked around the bench and sat beside him. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it.
“I’m pleased to meet you as an adult, Angela. You remind me of your mother when I first saw her. I fell in love with Marion, which is a dangerous thing for a man to do. She was merciful to me. She had only one more man to claim but she had to kill that one. She let me go and chose another. That made me her virtual slave for life even if she hadn’t used her trap on me. Then she gave me my freedom from any woman except herself. That was a magnificent gift. Can you understand how much that could mean to a man?”
“I think so, Uncle Dave – I can call you ‘Uncle’ can’t I?”
“It means that except from her you are immune. You don’t have to fear any woman…”
“Not even my wife.”
“Your wife? She doesn’t own you?”
“She can’t. Marion owns me with a tie that nothing can break. My wife has her own slaves, of course, but I’m not one of them. It makes our relationship special.”
“I don’t understand, Uncle Dave.”
“Angela. I chose my wife. I was immune to her trap. I chose her because of who she is, not because of what she had done to me. I love her and chose her above all others. She appreciates that.”
“I have never heard of such a marriage. In all the ones I know the husband is her slave as well as her partner.”
“It isn’t exactly popular with other wives. We keep quiet about it because it arouses jealousy. How can a wife know that her husband would choose her if he had free will? I pretend to be her slave when we are in company. She pretends to be an easy mistress. I could tom-cat around in safety and make dozens of pre-fertile women lose their traps. I don’t. Why should I deprive women of their status by an act that doesn’t benefit me and damages them?”
Angela kissed Uncle Dave on the cheek.
“Thank you for being here. I’ll be more careful in future. I can understand why Mum spared you. You are special.”
“My wife thinks so too. Now go home and talk to your mother. I think you need some more advice before you risk tackling a man, don’t you?”
“Yes, Uncle Dave. I’ll tell Mum what you did for me.”
Angela stood up, bent over and kissed Uncle Alan on the lips.
“Hold on. Don’t forget your scarf.”
He lifted it to savour the perfume before passing it to her.
“Wonderful scent, Angela. I’m sure you’ll succeed soon.”
Angela ran off home to her mother.
Her mother’s advice could be summed up as ‘If a man looks as if he is an easy target he is usually immune to you and should be avoided.’
Angela wasn’t surprised when Uncle Dave was invited to her home a few evenings later. She was surprised when her father slept on the couch that night and Uncle Dave shared her mother’s bed. He looked exhausted the next morning.
Angela was forward enough to ask her mother about it when father wasn’t around.
“How else could I reward a faithful slave who has done an exceptional service for me?” her mother asked. “I used my trap on him and he had a night of ecstasy. If I could give him the rest of the milk he needs I would.”
“But you can’t!” Angela exclaimed. “You’re too old.”
“That’s hardly polite, Angela,” her mother retorted. “And not actually true. I could do it if I wanted to with the help of a prescription from the chemist. Yesterday I nearly decided to, but I appreciate Dave’s infrequent services too much to let him go. I don’t think he really wants that now. He still loves me.”
“Mum! That’s cruel.”
“It isn’t. Women are cruel to men but I’m not cruel to Dave. I treat him very gently. Remember that when you get slaves of your own. Willing ones are much better.”
“Willing ones anticipate your needs and sometimes surprise you. Unwilling ones do what they are ordered to do and no more. One like Dave is a treasure.”
“I can see that. He was very kind to me.”
“That’s how he is. It would help that you look like I did at your age. Perhaps you might find a Dave for yourself. You’ll enjoy him if you do.”
“Thanks Mum. Thank you for sending Dave.”
“I didn’t have to ‘send’ Dave. He suggested it. That’s what I mean about being willing. He knew that I would be worried about you.”
Angela and Marion hugged each other.
Episode 2 Mercy Killing
Angela’s parents were concerned. Angela was nearly 21 and yet had not reached the total necessary to become potentially fertile. It might have been disgraceful but that…
Angela had become an urban legend. She had forced nearly 100 men with her sexual trap and not killed one. The men who had survived her spoke with awe at the depth of the sexual fervour Angela gave them. Many were queuing up to become her slaves once she became fertile. She had a little black book of willing volunteers. Men pleaded to be added to her list.
Some of her exploits were spoken in hushed tones. She went to the loan company to arrange finance for a condominium. While waiting for her appointment with the female loan manager she trapped the manager’s secretary in an open plan office. She threw her raincoat at him and pushed him under his desk. He writhed in helpless and silenced fantasies inside her clinging coat having ejaculation after ejaculation while Angela discussed the loan. Half an hour later Angela retrieved her coat leaving the exhausted secretary in a near comatose heap on the floor. The loan manager found him and was amused. Angela had confirmed the manager’s assessment as a young woman who was going places. The secretary was taken home and needed the rest of the week to recover.
Then there was the traffic cop. He stopped Angela for speeding. She threw her tiny lace handkerchief at his face. It just covered his mouth and nose but that was enough. She persuaded a passing woman to take pictures of Angela astride his writhing body and in seductive poses on his motorcycle. Somehow those pictures ended up on the inside pages of a scandal paper. The traffic cop was envied. Angela didn’t get a ticket.
Once she visited a court in the public gallery. Sitting beside her was a witness for another court case. Angela’s wrap-round skirt wrapped round him. She took off her Alice band and gagged his mouth while he jerked and flopped around. His movements nearly stopped the trial. His experience led to the adjournment of the trial he should have attended. He was found to be in an unfit state to give evidence.
Statements from those who had experienced Angela’s trap have to be taken with some caution. They show signs of continuing entrancement with her. What they seem to experience is Angela standing over their prone bodies with her skirt flaring wide above them. Their eyes are drawn into the darkness under her skirt as she lowers herself towards their faces. They feel the touch of her warm wet pussy across their mouths and noses and have real difficulty in breathing. The ‘pussy’ spreads over the whole face and pulsates. Then it spreads down the torso until the whole upper body is enclosed inside her. Once the pussy encloses the penile area the subject starts orgasming uncontrollably but is unable to ejaculate. They feel no pain at this inability and report almost unbearable ecstasy which continues unabated until their whole body is caressed by her pussy. At that point they start to ejaculate and continue to do so until Angela releases them, however long that may take. The after-effects are a blissful lassitude which may last for days and an obsession with Angela which seems permanent and is unparalleled for a pre-fertile woman. Angela is not supposed to be able to make men her slaves yet but the condition she induces in her victims is little short of such a state. It must be remembered that at no time do her victims actually touch Angela. The whole effect is produced by an item or items of her clothing.
The episode of the lost property clerk is thought to be apocryphal but we will record it with the comment that it may not be true. Angela is said to have left a headscarf on a train. That was found by a female cleaner and sent by the internal mail to the lost property office. The clerk opened the envelope and the scarf wrapped itself around his face. He was found hours later by his relief and was bedridden for a week. Angela states that she has never lost a headscarf.
Angela was a celebrity and a frequent guest on chat shows and at charity events. Once such appearance led to an unusual request being made to her parents from some friends of the family.
Their grandfather was terminally ill with a painful condition. He had been immune to women’s sexual traps because his wife had given him a small taste of her milk. She had recently died and her death had made him vulnerable to women again if scarcely an attractive prize at his advanced age and in poor health. He wanted to die and join his wife yet euthanasia was illegal. What his relatives wanted was Angela to use her sexual trap on him and kill him because deaths caused by pre-fertile women were acceptable. The old man had seen Angela on television and had asked that he be killed by her. Would she do it to him?
The family had a discussion. Angela needed to kill someone yet she hadn’t because she couldn’t bring herself to do it to a young man. Her status as a pre-fertile predator was appealing but she couldn’t continue much longer. She was at risk from penetration by a male and her fame made her a target for attention seekers. Sooner or later she needed to complete her hunt. This way would be merciful.
Eventually Angela agreed. She slept in a voluminous blue silk night dress and dreamt of the many men she had made to writhe helplessly in her clothing. When she awoke the night dress was strongly scented with her sexual perfume. She folded it up carefully into a plastic bag before taking a taxi to the family friends’ house.
The taxi driver seemed to recognise her.
“Are you…?” he said tentatively.
“I’m Angela, if that’s what you mean.” she replied.
“Would you…?” The taxi driver seemed almost speechless in her presence.
“If that’s what you want? Why not? You would make the 100th. But make sure you switch the meter off. I don’t want to pay to give you pleasure.”
“It’s a deal, Miss Angela. I’ll take you where you are going for no charge at all. While you do what you have to do I’ll wait outside with the meter off. You use your trap on me before you go in, and end it when you come out. Then I drive you back home, again at no cost to you. OK?”
“Most of that I agree to, but I don’t think you will be in a fit state to drive me home. You don’t appreciate the effect I have on men.”
“I’ve heard about it.”
“Hearing about it and experiencing it are very different. We’ll see how you are afterwards.”
“Thank you, Miss Angela. I’ll be your slave for life.”
“You may well be. We’re here. Come into the back seat.”
The driver climbed into the back of his cab. Angela checked. The meter was off. The taxi-driver’s licence showed him as an owner driver so it was his money he was losing, not his boss’s. She sighed and reached into her handbag. She took out a silk headscarf, pushed it up her skirt and moved it around just to make sure it would be effective, and dropped it lightly over the taxi-driver’s face. He went rigid as soon as the scarf touched him.
‘Oh shit!’ Angela thought to herself. ‘He would be one of those really sensitive to my trap. He’ll be shattered by the time I’ve finished. Oh well, he asked for it.”
She knocked on the front door. She was ushered in as if she were royalty. She was offered tea, coffee, anything she wanted. All she wanted was to get the task over.
“The great-grandchildren are saying goodbye,” her hostess explained. “They shouldn’t be long. Everyone else has said their farewells. He’s been enjoying the attention so much that he has almost forgotten the pain.”
A clatter of children tumbled down the stairs and into the room. A half-grown boy came up to Angela.
“Are you her? The real Angela?”
“Cor! Just wait till I get to school. My friends will never believe I’ve met you.”
“Would you like an autograph?” Angela asked. She meant it as a joke but the boy was so excited that she had to give him her signature on a piece of writing paper produced by her hostess. Then she had to give autographs to all the children, the young adults and even the parents.
Eventually she was able to go upstairs and meet the old man. He looked surprisingly sprightly for a dying man. Angela was left alone with him.
“You look very young,” he said. “Much younger than you did on television.”
“You look younger and healthier than I’d expected too. You look ready for many more years.”
“Thank you for that, Miss Angela. It isn’t true. I might have six months of increasing pain before I die. Knowing you were coming to end my pain has made me happy.”
“Are you ready?” Angela asked.
“Yes. What will you use?”
“This.” Angela produced the blue silk night dress.
The old man looked at it.
“It’s beautiful. I had expected just a scarf or a pair of soiled panties, but that night dress is a wonderful thing.”
“I chose it just for you.”
Angela bent forward and kissed him on the forehead.
“Now, can you sit up?”
He sat up. Angela threw the night dress over his head and pulled it down to his waist. She had tied the neck as small as it would go. He could not put his head through, nor could he have breathed much air if the night dress allowed him to.
The silk slid down past his hips. He slumped back against the pillow as the night dress covered his legs and feet, folding back on itself to seal him inside.
Angela watched with growing excitement. The silk contracted around him as if the air inside was being sucked out. His face was outlined by the material. His aged prick stood to attention for one last time. Angela gasped at its length and size. It was much bigger than any she had seen.
He began to shudder as her trap took effect. Angela knew the progress of her trap-induced fantasy very well. He was beginning the series of orgasms that would last until he sensed that her pussy had engulfed him. When that happened he would start to ejaculate and continue until exhausted but this time would be different. This time he would ejaculate until he died. Angela knew what to do. She had to excite herself to orgasm and focus herself on containing him in her trap as she lost herself in pleasure.
She slid a finger inside her panties and sought her pleasure centre. She began to caress it and grew warm inside. She rubbed with a firm pressure and watched his body arch and strain in time to the waves inside her. When she reached her peak she heard a gentle sigh from the bed. She’d never heard any man whose head she had wrapped make any noise. She instinctively recognised that the old man had gone at the peak of ecstasy.
She wiped her finger on the outside of her panties and untied the neck of her night dress. She eased his head out and laid it on the pillow. He had a blissful expression on his face. She pulled the bedclothes up to his shoulders and quietly left the room.
Downstairs she met her hostess. The children had been banished.
“Is he?” she was asked.
“Yes. He’s gone. I’ve left him in my night dress. He liked it so much I think he’d like to be buried in it.”
Her hostess clutched Angela’s hand and pressed it to her lips.
“Thank you! Thank you! And for the night dress. That is a great honour for him!”
Angela made her excuses and left. She couldn’t understand what an ‘honour’ she’s done. She’d killed a gentle old man. She could feel the change in herself. She was now fertile. What did she need another night dress for? Let the old man keep a souvenir.
Outside the taxi was still at the kerb. She opened the back door. The taxi driver was jerking and twitching. Angela lifted her headscarf off his face and he slumped into unconsciousness. Yet…
His penis was outside his trousers and still erect. Angela stripped off her panties and lowered herself on the erection. She pushed her damp panties across the taxidriver’s face. He shuddered back into action and pumped into her, sending a stream of semen into her. She clamped her newly acquired muscles shut preventing his seed from going too far. She lifted her panties from his face and herself off his shrinking tool. She climbed out of the cab and stood by the roadside as the spermicidal juices washed out between her legs.
The taxi driver had been her hundredth, and her first. Now he was her slave. A taxi driver was a useful slave. But now she had a little black book full of names. How many slaves could she make by Friday night? Ten? Twenty? Was there a record? If there was, Angela intended to break it.