Flr Introduction Club Pt 02 Of 3

Deborah Taylor looked positively stunning dressed in a green satin top, black leather miniskirt, sheeny dark tights, and daring high heels that let out an audible tap with every step. Her left ankle was adorned with a braided gold bracelet, and an equally eye-catching key that danced playfully as she paced back and forth.

Displayed on the bedspread-sized screen behind her was a succession of image after image of good-looking young men, entirely naked, either standing waist deep in Marjorie's pool, behind one of the potted plants, or sprawled out on their stomachs like so many starfish helplessly washed up on the seashore at low tide.

Perfectly submissive to the whims of any woman who might want to take them home.

Other than for the lighted screen and the stage where Deborah stood, the room was otherwise dark. Women like to look but not get caught looking, particularly when it comes to boys this young, despite the universality of this behaviour that all women secretly share.

"They're beautiful, aren't they? It's OK to look, ladies. Don't be bashful. They're not going to roll over; these are tasteful nudes of some of the young men who have signed up for our club."

Every fifteen seconds the projector switched to another image. With each new photo, the roomful of ladies let out a collective sigh, with an occasional gasp added to the mix. Headshots, bare-bottom full body shots, arched backs, big smiles: the ladies' eyes glazed over as any one of nearly two thousand images randomly appeared on the screen.

Deborah obliquely referenced the all-boy activity days -- one semi-public where the boys are scantily clothed, and the other where the boys wear nothing more than a chastity device. "Like watching boys at the playground," she added, "except with nothing left to the imagination."

Every woman in the room had indulged herself in this practice at one time or another. Or ogled over Speedo-wearing boys at a swim meet, relishing it when the wet clingy swimwear crept up their shaved legs and into the cleft of their young asses.

"Can I leave these photos running, or are they too distracting?"

The mesmerizing photos continued, and Deborah proceeded. "On the days these photos were taken, each of these boys kissed me hundreds of times," she boasted. "Sweet innocent pecks on the lips. Over and over. They could just as well have been kissing YOU."

"Are you sure they're not going to roll over?" one of the ladies asked, causing the rest of the room to break out in laughter.

"These are tasteful nudes," Victoria interrupted. "But I assure you, the body part that we intentionally didn't photograph is more than adequate for even the most passionate woman among you."

"We can even teach you how to make any boy get rock hard in seconds," Marjorie shouted, "whether the boy wants to or not - they don't have a choice."

It took nearly a minute for Deborah to calm down the room.

The dozen or so ladies in attendance were new members of the FLR Introduction Club -- a dating group that matches good-looking docile young men with mature women. Few if any of the women seated had ever been in a female led relationship; the weekly Ladies Empowerment Class was part of ongoing instruction for the new recruits of the modern matriarchal mindset. This was their introductory meeting.

"Every one of these beautiful boys kissed me on the lips hundreds of times. Why? Two reasons: I told them to, and I have a vagina."

Giggles erupted from the crowd and several women uncrossed then recrossed their legs, already 'feeling the heat,' as the leaders privately described this common female response. Seeing so many others in the same situation, the crowd giggled again. Deborah paused, turning to face the screen, then back to the ladies.

"The vagina is the portal to the feminine divine. The ancients called it Yoni.

"She is the spirit of our world, the powerful creator and sustainer of everything that exists here on our planet -- a maternal figure who loves unconditionally and wholeheartedly. The Divine Feminine is connected to fertility, birth, and the cyclical nature of life. It is present in the changing seasons of nature, and the cycles of the moon.

"Every woman's vagina is the access point to the feminine divine, the epitome of pure sexual power. It is the essence of female sexual allure. Males crave the vagina; their need is overwhelming. To experience the vagina is to experience ultimate nature. Raw and unambiguous -- divine feminine energy fulfils the spiritual need buried deep behind the fragile masculine mask worn by so many men. Males are preternaturally programmed to submit to female authority, to surrender to its power -- a power only accessed through the vagina.

"A young man's needs are no match to our feminine power -- we can get them to do anything. We have the vagina. We have the power. When the vagina is awakened, its power is unlocked, and it drips with passion. On their knees young men beg to penetrate it by any means possible."

Waxing poetic, Deborah added:

"Oh, to kiss the doors of that portal, fantasizing about going deeper, surrendering to its mystery, submitting to its power -- ready to obey all commands, putting their will and desires secondary to those of the woman's."

Deborah halted momentarily, for dramatic effect.

At this point every woman imagined an endless succession of silky-smooth boys 'doing the dance' while locked in direct eye contact with them -- their penises extended to painful dimensions, then kneeling before them, engaged in endless licking. The boys' tongues also grew to absurd dimensions in the quest for the deepest possible vaginal penetration.

"The fantasies brewing in the minds of boys this age are symptoms of their readiness to shed their masculine mask and submit to female authority. Among them are fantasies about dating women our age, 'Cougars' is the common term they ascribe to us. They are attracted to our self-confidence, maturity, and life experience -- preferring us to girls their own age. Their fantasy includes that we walk around glammed up all the time -- always with perfect hair and makeup, and that we're just as eager to have sex with them as they are to have sex with us."

From the back of the room, Marjorie shouted, "they aren't entirely wrong about that last one," to which the crowd again erupted in giggles.

"Dressed up as I am today exactly matches their Cougar fantasy. Jeans and a sweatshirt would take much less effort on my part, and I would still be able to pick up boys with a preference for older women. The difference is that I couldn't be quite so selective with the boys I meet. Moreover, the closer I match their fantasy, the more naturally boys will comply with the role I have in mind for them.

"Many young men secretly desire a loving female authority. Think of yourself as a mentor who is molding a very lucky young man into a better version of himself. What makes or breaks his commitment to this relationship, and ultimately his success in this important step of his life, is your commitment -- how consistent you are in your role as leader.

"In FLR relationships, the three basic methods to guide males are: clothing restrictions, orgasm control, and domestic discipline. Consistently adhere to these three guidelines and you will have successful relationships.

A woman raised her hand. "And all these boys are available to us?"

Deborah responded, "Some are current members and others are former members -- although for many we still have their contact information. I don't know how many are currently in relationships, and for those who are, if their keyholders are receptive about sharing."

"Sharing?"

Marjorie shouted, "they let you borrow their key."

Another collective sigh, a roomful of women uncrossing and recrossing of legs, and more giggles. Deborah asked Victoria to halt the slideshow when a particularly sexy boy was displayed on the screen.

"A moment ago, I briefly touched on boys' Cougar fantasy," Deborah said. "The boys who sign up for our club also have an FLR fantasy, which in some ways is an extension of the former. Look closely at this boy. He's representative of the boys in our club. Let me tell you about him. Like all boys in the club, he's sexually attracted to women your age and fantasizes about you exerting power over him. He wants to be sexually controlled.

"By a woman just like you.

"The fantasy starts with him thinking of you as his ruler, queen, mistress, goddess, or any number of domineering female titles. You command him and he must obey -- or punishment will occur. He fantasizes about that too. He likes it when you spank him. In his fantasy, you are demanding, strict, beautiful, and powerful. His fantasy includes that you lock him in chastity and publicly wear his chastity key around your neck, or on your ankle.

"On occasion you lock him in a special chastity device -- one with spikes that progressively press into his member the larger his erection grows. For these occasions you first change into a tight skirt and a plunging top that exposes your cleavage. The more consistently you dress this way the more he thinks of you as a dominatrix. He can't stop looking at you, although doing so leaves him in pain, but he just can't look away. Even your high heels sexually arouse him.

"He wishes that you would 'play dominatrix' with him every night. You can also direct your feminine energy to his member whether you're glammed up or not - and he WILL respond.

"His singular pleasure is pleasing you and meeting your approval. He feels special when you make him wear skimpy clothing, you randomly slap his ass, or when you lend him out to service your girlfriends on a whim. He likes the idea of being a sex object. He will shave his body and keep it silky smooth for you.

"When together in public people often think that he is your son. Surreptitiously he reaches out and holds your hand, then presses it to his lips. He tells you that he loves you very much. You reply with, 'tonight you're getting the strap,' which is exactly what he wanted to hear."

Deborah stopped for a moment and asked if there were any questions. She continued.

"It would be exhausting for a woman to maintain this for any length of time, to constantly be 'playing dominatrix' for your little plaything's satisfaction. As the relationship develops this will not be as essential as in the beginning, and in time, your channeling abilities will develop.

"In the grander scheme of things, you are drawing a young man into an FLR relationship with you, for the ultimate goal of changing his focus such that he finds fulfillment through obedience to you, expressed through domestic servitude and meeting your sexual needs.

"Your energy field will overwhelm him -- you just need to channel it. You have the vagina; you have the power. Your orgasms are all that matter -- and your little plaything is just that." Deborah then reached into her purse and unfolded a well-worn piece of paper, introducing it as a tantric legend.

The native boy was led away by two priestesses of the tantric tradition, who tightly bound his hands behind his back and placed a blindfold over his eyes. It was the first full moon following the boy's coming of age. Halfway to the clearing the group was joined by other priestesses, who removed the boy's loincloth and struck his naked body with freshly cut branches, whispering the sacred words of submission that every boy in the tribe is expected to solemnly pledge to the fertility queen.

The sound of drums grew stronger with every step. At the clearing, all the other priestesses of the tribal council were waiting. They were dressed in ceremonial gowns, standing in a semicircle at the place where the boy was forced to kneel. A rope was placed around the boy's neck and staked to the ground behind him, but his blindfold had not yet been removed.

The fertility ceremony induces worthy initiates to offer up adolescent libations to Yoni, their goddess and ruler. 'Raising the spear' is the honor of every boy who is of age, in submissive obedience; giving pleasure to Yoni is a boy's highest duty. The young boy hoped that he would be found worthy.

The rhythm of the drums slowed to a hypnotic pace and the chanting of the priestesses began. The young boy's breathing also relaxed, and he fell into a trance.

Yoni is pleasure. Yoni is pain. Yoni is power. Surrender to Yoni.

Yoni is pleasure. Yoni is pain. Yoni is power. Surrender to Yoni.

The priestesses' bodies swayed, and their hips rocked back and forth. Under the mystical light of the full moon, the fertility queen appeared, and the boy's blindfold was removed. Dressed in a ceremonial gown, the fertility queen additionally wore a white feather atop her head. She moved seductively toward the young boy, and like the other priestesses, swayed her body and rocked her hips.

Still in a trance, the boy's gaze left the other priestesses and was now fixated on the movements of the fertility queen.

Yoni is pleasure. Yoni is pain. Yoni is power. Surrender to Yoni.

Yoni is pleasure. Yoni is pain. Yoni is power. Surrender to Yoni.

The queen's swaying body held the boy transfixed. Like all the initiates before him, he was unable to look away from her hips. They rhythmically rocked back and forth. All who ever knelt at the stairs of Yoni's altar fell under their magical spell.

Yoni is awakened: the fertility queen lifted her ceremonial gown, the feather of fertility bid the boy's libation, coaxing his spear to action, but not quite releasing its libation. Only if the boy is worthy.

Yoni beckons the raising of the spear. The curtain lifts upward, the divine opening of the sacred temple is nigh. The spear rises, for it is under Yoni's spell. It rises in submission to the female divine.

Behold the spear rises. And continues rising. The assemblage of the tribal council witnesses its rising.

What did you bring to my altar? What will you sacrifice to me?

You want to enter the temple and worship at its holy sanctum, but you cower and quiver before me. Your spear is raised, and you are helpless and weak. Your spear is raised, and your thoughts are melting away.

You are found unworthy, and your libation will never flow.

Yoni's pleasure is everything and with your mouth you will service her. Obey the orders that Yoni gives you. Although your spear is raised submissively at her wet altar, with your mouth and with your mouth alone shall you give her pleasure.

Yoni is pleasure. Yoni is pain. Yoni is power. Surrender to Yoni.

Yoni is pleasure. Yoni is pain. Yoni is power. Surrender to Yoni.

The room was silent. The women had never heard such things. Divine female. Sexual control. Energy field. Then the same woman raised her hand again. "You can really make any boy, well, you can give him an instant erection?"

Deborah responded. "The boys who kissed me...all hard as a rock and pointing upward - like young boys do. Their erections held them captive."

"They didn't have a choice?"

Deborah shook her head. "Why should a boy be allowed to control his own member? We have a saying: women get what they want, and boys get what they need - including painful reminders that women control their members, always, which is where the locking chastity devices come in."

Another gasp fell over the room.

"Many of these boys look awfully young. They are all available for us?"

"This question comes up frequently," Deborah answered, "and as my part of the presentation is pretty much concluded, let me turn the meeting over to Allison, our club president."

Blonde and in her early forties, Allison was elegant and engaging. Exhibiting the poise of a beauty queen claiming her crown, she rose from her seat to assume the speaker's position. All smiles, Allison's long sensational legs were her calling card. Tonight, three miniature keys sparkled on her ankle bracelet.

"I appreciate your question -- are these boys too young? I beg your pardon, 'young men.' They are all at least eighteen years old, of legal age for a consensual relationship, but I often call them boys. They are cute, aren't they?"

"Regardless of how old the woman is?" the woman implored. "Would the youngest ones be interested in a woman, well, my age? What would people think?"

"No one is here to judge you regarding the type of young man you want. This group is specifically created for successful mature women seeking relationships with younger men. Personally, I have a strong preference for young boys, I mean men; I find their optimism and boundless energy unmatched."

Deborah, still standing at Allison's side, before the group of assembled ladies, asked her friend, "tell them how many boys you currently have."

The room went silent.

"Last month a new boy came into my life," Allison admitted, with twinkles in her eyes. "A beautiful boy, Italian. His name is Giovanni."

"How many others?" Deborah pressed.

"Altogether there are three -- ages nineteen, nineteen, and eighteen."

To the applause of the crowd, Allison took a deep breath. A photo of the three of them then appeared on the screen, courtesy of Victoria. Their bare backsides faced the camera - hot male asses that no woman could resist, but it wasn't that long ago that Allison was still pining for such a boy.

Employing tantric philosophy, Allison set out to learn to channel her feminine energy such as to seduce any boy she might lay her eyes on. Eventually, boys were approaching her, in the market, when she walked through the park -- and they did whatever she asked. "I could teach any woman to do this," she once quipped. "It could be a business."

Deborah then interceded in the presentation. "A full fifty percent of the eighteen-year-old boys are referred to us by their mothers, who want their boys to be matched with a loving woman and placed in a good home. Depending on the boy, in public people might think he's your son. I get that all the time." She adds, with a mischievous smile, "And I've met Giovanni, he IS beautiful - and very sweet."

Another woman in the group asked, "Do you share Giovanni? And what do you call a woman who has more than one boy?"

Marjorie responded, from the back of the room, "One lucky bitch."

The ladies applauded at this. Deborah took over again. "Giovanni hasn't been shared yet, but when he is, I hope to be the first. To your second question, we call it 'grouping.' A variation of sharing is trading -- you get the idea."

Regaining her composure, Allison resumed her speech. "But what I want in my relationships might not be what you want. The questions for each of you to ask yourself are what do you want, and how invested do you want to be, because FLR relationships take work. Also, which level of FLR will give you the greatest happiness?"

The leggy blonde then spent the next fifteen minutes repeating the three basic methods to guide the male toward surrender to full submission: clothing restrictions, orgasm control, and domestic discipline. These are necessary elements -- without any of these you are not in an FLR relationship. This is the curriculum we promote, and this is what you signed up for. It is also what the boys signed up for, and they are depending on you to take the lead and fulfil your role.

"Channel your feminine energy and you'll enter a magical world where women get what they want, and boys get what they need."

It was a magical world alright: scantily dressed boys in 'compromising situations,' as the club ladies sometimes say, paraded before them in shimmery ankle-to-waist shawls that one-by-one drop to the dance floor. And at any moment, every boy's member could be capriciously subjected to a directed dose of divine feminine energy.

Several of the follow-up questions pertained to Allison's relationship with Giovanni, as well as the other two boys. What do you make them wear? How often do you let them out of chastity? You obviously love these boys; is it difficult for you to give Giovanni the strap?