***All characters in this story are 18 years of age or older***
Aristan should have enjoyed the tall, voluptuous goddess riding his cock with such furor. He should have been entranced by the flutter of her eyelashes, the trembling of her full red lips, the waiving of her shoulder-length straight black hair, the patch of neatly trimmed pubic hair over her pussy mound. He should have been mesmerized by the bouncing of her heavy round tits, the lithe motion of her hourglass figure, the perspiration dripping down her deeply tanned skin, the curling of her toes as she orgasmed around his erection.
But he felt nothing. His dick was hard, made so by the magical gold cock ring clasped snugly around the base of his member, but his libido was nonexistent. Such had been the case for every man in the annals of recorded history.
Aristan was a manservant, a slave, of the Vulvani. He needed no reminding, but the black metal collar around his neck would have done so. His was a matriarchal society in which men were considered little more than livestock, purposed for labor and breeding. That was it.