Melia - A Feminist Learns

Melia: A Feminist Learns, Part V

By Victor Mann

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I left Melia  to do her tasks and I went out to get my nails clipped, my hair cut, my shoes shined and to change into my tuxedo.  Though I had resolved some years before that I would not burden my house with a cunt, I had nevertheless had spent considerable time in imagining what the rituals would be to bring one into my home permanently.   That is just to say that I had a very clear set of initiations in mind for Melia, before she would be allowed entrance into my “castle.” While being quite certain of my grip over her and the totality of my liege, I felt the whim to have this control dramatically expressed in a series of required acts and gestures that could seal the certainty of Our/our relationship. I was well aware that special rituals would appeal to the psychology of a cunt, so I saw it as a win/win situation for me quite in accord with my birth name: Victor Mann.

I called the rectory where Our/our “binding” ritual would take place in the early evening.  It was in a Catholic nunnery that had been sold off by the church and bought by very wealthy friends in the new community I had become more involved with since I had met Melia.  The first stage of the ritual was to take place there and the preparations were complete.  There were three stages I had determined for My “possession” ritual for Melia,

so that she would always remember this day.  This done, I went directly to Melia’s apartment. 

       Melia greeted Me, kneeling on her satin mat before the door as she had learned.

She bowed and kissed each of My well-shined, black dress shoes sincerely.  This done she returned to kneeling position, eyes looking respectfully downward, with a sweet, gentle smile on her face that pleased Me.  I had her rise so I could inspect her outfit.  I had chosen it well and I saw no wrinkles in the black satin and no disrespectful runs in her stockings.  The shoes were perfectly unscuffed.  Her make-up was meticulously done and pleasing. 

       I touched her chin so that I could look her in the eyes.  A Man wants open compliance in a woman’s eyes; He wants to see that softness, will-lessness, and deep desire only to please that makes a woman truly feminine and beautiful.  It had taken a firm will and exacting training to bring Melia to this moment before Me.  I had sensed her need when she had begun to suck up to Me at our activist meetings.  And I had boldly taken control and had nurtured that need until it became the passionate, flaming desire for submission consuming Melia now.  But as a long time Master, I knew that none of it was guaranteed. cunts take perverse pleasure in denying Men, even if they know it will be a loss for them also. So to train a woman a Master must defuse the self-defeating mechanisms in a bitch for her own good.  Those mechanisms had been especially strong in Melia,  but when I lifted her chin to look deeply into this cunt’s eyes I saw there

her fierce commitment offered in the softest, gentlest, most feminine, and submissive look she had ever offered to any man.  Melia had spent her life being a feminist bitch, but

I could see that she had learned.

       My pleasure now was to hurt Melia’s tits and kiss her roughly.  Her eyes were to remain open and to meet Mine in this rare moment. (A cunt does not look into My eyes unless I ordain it).  Her eyes told Me that I had a sex object, fuckhole and puppet cunt,

openly submissive and devotedly masochistic, at My disposal now.  Melia’s bitch will was cancelled, I could see, in My favor.  I savored this moment immensely.  It stiffened My prick and made Me want to hurt her more, but there would be plenty of time.  It was time to get going. 

       I had Melia remake her face and guided her by the arm down the steep stairs of her place.  The 4 ˝ high heels that Melia wore this day were especially designed for beauty and discomfort and their radicalness required Me to hold Melia’s arm to brace her as she carefully negotiated the stairs.  On the street she was surer and We/we stepped into the black limousine to take her to the rectory.  Melia kept her cunt mouth shut on the way to the rectory while I smoked My cigar.  Here is a snippet taken from the diary she is required to keep, reported here some weeks after the “binding” ceremony:

As I rode in the back seat of my Master’s car next to Him, I felt that I was floating in a cloud of  ecstatic expectation.  The title that He gave to My diary, “A Feminist Learns,”did ring so incredibly true in my journey and now I was at such an important juncture.  Master, because you read this always, and read ME down to the punctuation I want you to understand that I awaited the rituals you had decided for me like I await breath itself.  The sexist bastards all say a woman is

NOTHING.  You exposed in me the part that wanted to say: “Prove it!”  you

have taught me--- and I cherish the lessons--- that my deepest pleasure is in being

NOTHING before you.  But that takes a REAL MAN who understands the core

meaning of sexism.  I now respect the sexist as a proud man, but it is your COCK

I serve.  The hardest hitting truth you taught Me was that I was a hole,

a slot for cock--- and nothing else.  In your Mastery and your alchemy you showed me that the cunthole I have (more than the other pleasure slots I possess to please you)  is sculpted to show the truth, if the a bitch is ready to understand.

Just as a cock fills up the void of the cunthole, a real MAN fills up the NOTHINGNESS of a woman with His Will and Command.  Just as the longer and more fully a woman is fucked the greater her pleasure (within the physical limits), so too You have taught Me that the more fully a woman’s will is cancelled (fucked!) in favor of the Prick-Will of a skilled Master, the more her life and being become true and--- I have learned this--- orgasmic to an extent most cunts will never know.  When you stomp on me like a piece of shit , you make me true like no bitch feminist could ever be.

       I Myself was thinking, as We/we drove in the car how, despite My resistance to having a bitch getting underfoot in My house, it would be good to have an obedient fucking whore around to use as I pleased (or misuse as the case might be.) Now that I had gotten Melia trained, I don’t think anyone would doubt that she looked like a good, expensive whore.  But more importantly she could emotionally please a Man, AUTHENTICALLY, like no paid whore could ever do.  And  I looked at having a good cunt around like a Man might look at having a nice, new wide-screen, plasma TV.  The problem with bitches is that it is hard to turn them off when you are done using them; they become emotional drains that use up precious Male time.  But, though I am extremely hard to please, Melia had learned how to act like a good woman should.  She was, truly, a good, obedient woman, now, and, this, Men all over the world appreciate and savor. 

       We/we arrived at the rectory for the first phase of our “binding” ritual.  For this event I had brought together five Masters from the club that I had begun to get involved with when I knew that I was going to assume Melia permanently.  I had made clear to Melia from the beginning of Our/our relationship that I believed a woman cannot be a real woman if she is not fucked by multiple Men.  She knew and understood, in any case, that My decisions on such things were final.  Though I didn’t emphasize the term nor fetishize the concept, necessarily, Melia was My fucking property now to do with as I wished.  The rituals, in its three phases, was simply a way of affirming this publicly.

We/we entered the rectory and our eyes had to adjust to the dimmed light.  Melia was, now, such a well-dressed, well-made-up, well-behaved cunt!  I felt a surge of pride

escorting her through the door.  Melia, because she had learned how to be good, showed no untoward shock at the scene she was walking into.  Five of My Master friends stood

at the front of the rows of seat in a line, all dressed in tuxedos.  Behind them lay a large black satin mat on the floor surrounded by large, black penis shaped candles that provided the only light in the dim room.

       I escorted Melia down the aisle humming, “Here comes the bride,” to make My crude point with the bitch. Melia well understood that I took pleasure in humiliating and had learned to be the sweet place to receive this special Masculine part of Me.  I didn’t make much fuss about the ritual, now, and Melia retained her pretty smile and submissive demeanor beautifully.  If there were a first “wedding picture,” it would have been the picture perfect way Melia stood, awaiting her crude fate. 

       “I’ve brought the cunt to fuck,” I said to My pals.

       “That’s a pretty piece of fuckmeat,” one of the Men said complimenting Me on My taste.

       “It thought the bitch didn’t like sexists?” another said, having heard My tale of bringing a feminist under My thumb.  He was rubbing it in, as Men will do.

       “She’s My set of holes now.  All of her feminist books now have male dominant pornography pasted over the covers.  She did it herself in respect of Me.”

       The small talk stopped now as I gagged Melia’s mouth appropriately and guided her to lie down on the satin mat.  I clipped on the wristlocks that were exposed under metal flaps on the floor and fastened similar soft cuffs onto her prettily turned ankles.

I could feel Melia gently trembling under My touch.  I felt the power surge of her complete helpnessness and My Prick became very hard.  This is what Melia said in her diary:

I knew that My Master would be Manly about the rituals We/we would do.  He had made clear that He felt a real woman should be, “A willing fuck-place for multiple Men.”  I was long past dwelling on offenses to my past mindset.  But I knew this could be difficult because I was so monogamous by nature and I never fucked around (though I probably should have) with my impotent husband or any of my boyfriends.  There was no doubt, though, I was very well-prepared for this moment because of the fountain of pure pleasure that I found in ceding my will to Victor. When the moment came, as I knew it would, I suffered a witch’s brew of emotion that left me almost catatonic. (I gladly accept here any punishment that Master should deign for this bitch confession)  I so needed to show Him, out of love, that I could cede EVERYTHING.  But that attitude of these smirky faced pricks who were his friends really triggered old prejudices and biases.  Why should Men have this power and autonomy and not…  Master was gently proprietary when He locked Me in place and this somehow calmed Me.   But I was trembling like a leaf when He laid Me down there on the floor splayed for fuck use.  I was trembling in fear for what was to happen, but the truth that Master has always sought was in my little bitch cunt which was gushing like it has never gushed.  As I trembled, it was not paradoxical that I felt the deepest thrill I have ever felt in my life.  A real Man was making me HIS, His way.  Call it girly, but I felt this crude predicament, harsh and hard as it was, showed My Master’s true caring, not for some bullshit given by society, but for what I really was.

Once Melia was in place, I took the tube of lubrication one of My friends

had bought and smeared it copiously on her smooth, well-shaven cunt.  It was clearly chafed and raw from the fucking and masturbating of the last few days.  Fortunately,

the lubrication contained in it a very strong ingredient that would numb her primary fuckhole in a matter of moments.  I flipped a switch at the near wall and a gentle

version of the Rolling Stones song, “Under My Thumb,” played in the background.

By My arrangement the five Masters of My group fucked Melia in succession, taking hardly ten minutes each.  Our group did not use condoms and never has.   (Because We have so many cunts in fuck-control regularly and because none of Us will fuck anything but a complete obedient, We seem to have solved the problem of sexually transmitted disease!) All of the Men fucked Melia crudely and somewhat sadistically.  All of Them, like Me, like to make a fuck real by spilling obscenities into the bitch’s ears, as they take their right.  “Fucking feminist bitch!” seemed to come up each time.

       By Male #3 Melia began to explode into uncontrolled orgasm.  The cuffs on wrists and ankles now acted as controls of the thrashing of her body in racking pleasure.

Drool dribbled down her chin around the gag.  The Man-slop dripped copiously from her cunt.  All I can say is that I want any bitch I take in to know what she is for.