A Proper Household Pt 03

marie leaned her head down on my black-leather covered knee and the tears began to flow copiously. Though I still knew there was something missing in her account; her leap to language and attitudes that were so consonant with My deepest needs just seemed too abrupt, I was satisfied that what she had written was not mere gesture. she believed it with every fiber of her being.

I put My Hand on the girl's head and held it quietly. Far from stopping the tears, this act of taking her in hand unleashed a flood of emotion and tears. The strain had gotten to My little girl. I had been harsh and hard on her. And she loved Me deeply and wanted above all to truly please Me, as We/we moved forward.

Only two weeks later, when I was giving her a caning in the basement in a "truth session," a custom I keep in place to this day to insure that instinctive feminine wiles are kept in check and I get only naked, forthright honesty, did she cough up the truth that two years ago she had gotten hold of the codes to My private computer in My office, where I do correspondence and keep My thoughts and writings on the Man/cunt relationship. she had been reading and studying My views for a good while, and like the "A" student she was she had begun to memorize and internalize them, finding in her a powerful resonance with them, even then.

But without knowing this, I looked with great favor on this weeping, sniveling cunt. And I was so glad that, almost as an afterthought, I had turned to her, My Own wife, to quench and satisfy Male desires that I needed to fully fulfill for My Own wholeness. I had taken great pleasure in My outside women and would continue to. But, finally, a Man cannot just run around and fuck, He must strive to be Master of a proper household.

And it was clear that, with the path revealed, I could Guide marie also to the fullest expression of her femaleness, the treasure trove that awaits the woman who knows her destiny is servitude. Those who look at this from the outside and judge from a more conventional viewpoint would be unlikely to understand the satisfaction, solace, pleasure and ecstasy that does accompany this challenging, painful, difficult, but most worthy apotheosis for a woman.

I went to the bathroom and got a washcloth and a towel, as I had marie remove and replace one of her stockings which had gotten an offensive run in it. It was time for I and marie to talk properly as Man and cunt. I had her kneel, comfortably again at My feet on a cushion, admonishing her to avoid the slightest scuff on her high heels, as she shifted, and I washed her face clean of its stains and make-up. Perhaps I saw in this clean face, which ordinarily I would see as unfeminine and offensive, a nakedness and openness to truth.

"What is a woman?" I asked marie captiously.

she, quieted, and very much centered in a deep part of herself I had barely glimpsed before, smiled softly and said, "Sir, i know so little. i believe though that Male Guidance is needed for the discovery of this."

This was said with the most feminine, vulnerable tones I had ever heard from marie. And, clearly it was not an act. she was turning inward to express a latent truth within that had only been called forth by this radical turn in her home.

"And what is a Man?" I asked.

Her voice was soft, girlish and sweet, as if these topics and this context had loosened bindings on her soul that had held her stifled and constrained, and had freed her to express her inner being in the free-est and most refreshing way, "That is for a Man to decide."

"But what is this talk about strict Male Rule?"

With the same most diffident smile and feminine air she said in a tenor that reached me and touched Me most deeply, "What does a 'liberated' cunt really know? I do believe deeply this is best for Me. But, of course, it is for the Male to decide."

It was late morning now, I had a bitch to meet in the early afternoon, who needed My attentions, but otherwise My schedule was clear.

This interchange was a deep and important one. It is so rare for Men and women to speak honestly and frankly to each other. There is a crudeness and vulgarity to most intersexual interchange in modern culture. The living core of Maleness and femaleness are stultified and sickly distorted, for the most part, by pretenses of politics and culture that prevent the vibrant openness and honesty needed for human, sexual and erotic intercourse between the sexes (speaking only heterosexually here) to manifest the ripe delight deserved and yearned for by all. The rawest, most primal, and truest urges of the heart and soul, shaped by years of evolution of the sexes, are almost always consigned to dreary dungeons in the basements of consciousness, there to be shackled by cultural rigidities and whipped into submission so that human erotic potentials become a parody of full possibility. As a Master, I had through My life, sought to rip away the veils of pretense between Man and woman and forcefully surface the erotic infrastructure of Us/us, that I believe is part of hard-wiring, so that We/we could experience human, heterosexual passion at its deepest and truest. There was not a single woman who had served My boots, who had not thanked Me from her deepest heart for my harsh efforts.

I bade marie to rise and sit in a soft chair, lower than My own, so that this vital interchange could properly continue. she was clothed only in the black lingerie I required and black high heels. I directed her to sit with legs spread before Me, exposing her cunt toward Me, though the crotchless panties. I bid her to slowly masturbate to the verge of orgasm, so that her cunt would be engorged and dripping. I wanted an enhanced erotic state from her for this further probing of her inner being. I watched for a while and then went to get us some scotch. marie was an "easy" drunk, not needing much alcohol to loosen her inhibitions and make her even giddy. When she had reached the edge of orgasm, her tit nipples hardening, her breath quickening and her cunt wet, I had her drink from the glass in My hand, like feeding a child. I patiently fed her a good double shot and went to sit down.

"What is the essence of femininity," I queried her, continuing My examination.

marie giggled a bit, the alcohol quickly affecting her. "It's a big question, Sir. i am so new to all this. i don't want to offend you."

I assured marie that she could not offend Me here, but I did this knowing that she knew why I asked the question and that she was more than ready to respond in ways that would not only please Me, but be erotically inspiring to her. Her answer was rambling, not letter-perfect, but deeply honest, in the moment.

"It is about whim and softness. Frivolous, carefree indulgence in the impractical. Giggles and wiggles. It is about openness and receptiveness. Flexibility in every sense. 'Feminity is a sweet aroma on the wind,' she quoted from an unknown author. But, Sir, this i see, that it cannot have its full expression without that wind. And its openness is meaningless if there is not something real to occupy and fill that open space. Isn't that how a woman, traditionally, maintained the home, she made it the open, inviting space of pleasure for her husband and family? But i was thinking about the cunt and Cock, here too. Femininity and the woman are the open place for Masculinity and the Cock to fully express themselves."