Cunt School

 

 

Cunt School, Part II

 

By Victor Mann

 

I found out later that these two months I was away provided Lane with opportunities

that He may have forgone, if I had been there.  I know that Lane had fucked other women

during our marriage.  He was Master and He made clear that I had no right to question

Him about it.  Sometimes He would casually talk with me about His affairs as a way of

trying to get a rise out of Me so He could punish Me. For whatever reason, though, these

affairs were not frequent and not very involving for Him.  When I was at “school,” I learned, however, that Lane He really went out of His way to find cunt.  It probably had been His plan all along. 

 

His secretary had always had a crush on Him.  He really did have that look that brought women to Him.  He took the opportunity of my absence to make her into his “suckretary.”  Of course, she continued to do the menial work of the office, but she

also began to provide sexual favors to Him, as He required. She was a 27 year old, unmarried, smart, dark haired Hispanic girl with a very passive affect.  I think Master saw right through her and decided it was time for her to understand herself.  Before long He was taking her out to dinner every night.  I know that she sucked prick, only, for 21 straight days until He deigned to use her cunt.  That’s the kind of MAN Laney is.

 

It was a little more of a surprise that Lane fucked Lucy, who was only 22 years old, on the night of her graduation party.  Lou and Jill, her parents have been friends of ours for years and she used to sit on Lane’s lap when she was a girl.  I had seen her do the usual adolescent girl’s flirting with the older guy when she was a teen-ager.  Clearly she had had some kind of girl’s eye on Lane.  And then there was Amanda, 60 years old, a woman who was a most incredible beauty in her younger years, in the Las Vegas office.  What comes to Vegas stays in Vegas.  But Lane decided to stop having casual relationships and all these women are still in Our/our lives now--- but I get ahead.

 

When I recovered myself in the back of the van, and adjusted myself on the thin blanket

on its floor, I looked over the other cunts there.  Under the dim dome-light I could see

a petite oriental woman, who looked to be about 35; an overweight African American woman in her fifties, I suppose; an very attractive older white woman who must have been in her sixties, of average build, and another, rather rotund, white woman, who would be categorized as “short and stout,.” who appeared to be about my age.  I noticed that all the other cunts (you will note that I always try to respect my Master’s ways and language when referring to females and Men) were naked, also, and had very cleanly shaved pubises, like myself. All clutched in their hands the very same slick, shocking brochure. 

 

“We’re heading for Napa,” the black woman said to me, to help me orient myself.

 

I nodded.

 

“Why are you here,” she asked me, “My Master didn’t like His poached eggs

yesterday morning.”

 

I could hear a familiar tone in her voice which mixed profound humiliation

and pride. I knew it well myself.  However much it hurt, she admired and

respected her Master for His strength. 

 

“It wasn’t the first fucking time,” she admitted, self-critically, after a pause.

 

Of course, it had been a pattern of behavior, not simple pique.  A real

Master always has a larger plan in mind.

 

“My Master sent me because I fucking deserved it,” I said, realizing

I was trying to one-up the black woman.

 

I was surprised to see the two white women and the oriental looking woman

nod in assent—they felt it was true for themselves, also.  It was clear that these women weren’t just submissives; they were boot-lick slaves like myself.  For us, the man was

ALWAYS right.  A part of me hated this notion and thought it vile, but, when I said

those words to the other bitches,  I felt that perverse twist in my gut that brought me pleasure.  I am a smart girl, no doubt, but I also am a very perverted little cunt.

 

The older white woman spoke up, “My husband is 45 years old. I’m 65.  We’ve

been married for 15 years.  I think there was always a Dom/sub thing in the background.

We just didn’t know what to call it.  Not a lot of men would look the pair of tits I had in the eye and just take them.  Most men are intimidated. You know--- you see their little pussy mouths drop open, but they won’t make a move?  After a few years, Tom got serious about D/s and S/m and I took to it like a duck to water.  He really likes the corporal punishment and I really need it.  You don’t know what it’s like to be an absolutely gorgeous knock-out. I always hated the way men reacted, all the fucking fawning.  But Tommy knows  what a woman is for.  I’m the one who does the fawning and ass-kissing in our house. It must be 6 years since Tommy, “got his work done,” as He puts it, and I became His abject slavecunt.  The happiest years of my life.  I’m the one who found the ‘school’ on the internet.  I begged Him to send me. “

 

Prejudice expected the oriental looking woman to have an accent, but she spoke in

precise, highly educated English: 

 

“Well, this is it for me and being a Realtor--- and the work world.  Po-Yao has been wanting a full-time slave for a couple years now.  This is just His way of fucking humiliating me.  If there ever was a jack-booted, fascist Master….” Lucy’s voice trailed off and we all burst into laughter.  It was our lot to absolutely love what most women

hated. 

 

In my own mind I thought, “And if He were any other way she’d laugh in

his face.”

 

 

Lucy continued with a frankness that was a bit shocking, “I’m your typical ABC,

American Born Chinese.  My parents were immigrants but they really wanted me

to be the “normal” American girl.  So naturally I’m going to rebel.  In college,

at University of California, Berkeley, even, I would only date East Asian guys

with accents.  I met Po-Yao at my sister’s wedding.  He was twenty years my

senior.  He was soooo Chinese.  He was on his second wife and he already had seven children. I have never been that beautiful, but I know how to dress and be---submissive.

And when I saw that handsome guy with those eyes!  His wife and three kids

were eating dinner when he was fucking me in the men’s bathroom.  This was

the most torrid, sick affair!  Po-Yao was completely old school.  But in 20 years

of America he had added the kinky elements that make him totally American,

in another way.  Most women would have run like the devil from a man like this.

But I was just absolutely enthralled.  I was totally fucking hopelessly in love.

 

Though Po-Yao had been in America for 20 years, and liked it here, he said that it spoiled women.  He said that it had spoiled his first wife, whom he had brought from Taiwan, and that’s why he left her.  His second wife had been raised in Hong Kong, but she had worked so much here, he felt she had gotten ruined too.  To make a long story short,

when I, at the age of 25, walked to the altar with Po-Yao, after the messiest divorce and scandal for him, my cunt was pierced and padlocked shut under my wedding dress. 

He said this was going to, for the first time, a real wedding and He was going to have

a real woman for a change, a woman with absolutely no fucking rights.”

 

We all took in the intense fierceness and pride of Lucy’s words.  The van was uncomfortable.  Our destination uncertain.  We were naked and the chill was in the air.

But we all knew our purpose in that van!  As we talked, we could feel the glow

come to our faces.  We were all very smart and most of us were very well educated.

We all knew our lives were in stark denial of the cultural propaganda about women’s

autonomy and freedom.  I have never in my life felt the deep bond with anyone that

I felt with those cunts in that god-forsaken van.  We shared a deep secret of love and

service. We shared a secret about womanliness!  Most of us knew the deep satisfaction of birthing.  This was a woman’s satisfaction.  The pain and anguish of it sears the being and affirms it.  With our Masters we were evoking this primal essence of ourselves.  The essence of womanliness is the ability to extinguish oneself in favor of another.  And that essence yields not mere pleasure, but bliss.  And the pain must be if a woman is truly to be a woman.  We were all so proud that our Masters knew this and understood.