This standalone vignette is drawn from my much longer story “White Knights of Patriarchy and Women as Property of Men.” That full story is about a man who is seeking something better in life. He wants both sexual fulfillment and freedom from the oppressiveness of modern Political Correctness. During his search, he stumbles across an online group that seems to be offering what he is seeking. After passing various tests of his worthiness, the man is admitted to the hidden precincts of this secretive, dedicated band. It is a White brotherhood in the best and truest sense of that term. These men have built a new and better Patriarchal society in which men rule and women serve. The women in this society are cultivated to fulfill the needs and desires of the men who own them. By the same token, this also fulfills the deepest urges and needs of the women themselves. The women and girls in this society are the wholly-owned property of their Masters. Females are born, raised, and trained so they desire only to serve the men who own them.
In this excerpt, the new man is allowed to experience for himself exactly what a pair of these women under the new Patriarchy can do for a man. This excerpt standalone vignette focuses solely on the sexual fulfillment part of our hero’s life goals. He has allowed himself to be blindfolded and bound so that he can visit a secret location where he will meet some women who are property of the Patriarchy. Read the whole “White Knights of Patriarchy and Women as Property of Men” story to get the rest of a much bigger picture. Enjoy!
I was blindfolded with hands bound as they led me through the building. Then I heard laughter. A woman’s laughter. We walked on a short distance. Then another door opened, and I was led into a room. I heard Frank say “I’ll help you sit” as he guided me to a chair. After I sat down, my hands were untied and the hood removed.
I opened and shut my eyes several times as my vision adjusted to the light. I found myself sitting in what looked like a pricey hotel room. There were the usual couple of chairs, a desk, a couch, a TV, several mirrors, and a very large bed. On the bed sat a strikingly beautiful redheaded woman with long, wavy hair, porcelain-white skin, and green eyes. She seemed to be in her early twenties. The redhead wore a plain, white blouse that bulged outward from her chest, indicating the large size of her breasts. Her pearl-gray skirt ended at mid-thigh, revealing a shapely pair of legs that were bent at the knee and curled to the side. She looked at me with her head titled to one side. Her gaze indicated curiosity, yet her demeanor was also gentle and friendly.
Next to her sat a very pretty girl of about 14 with long blonde hair that cascaded past her shoulders. She had sparkling blue eyes. Her peaches and cream complexion practically glowed with health. Her face was even more beautiful than the redheaded woman’s. She had the freshness of early youth and recent puberty. She wore a pale pink half-top that left her midriff bare. Her chest bulged slightly where her breasts were developing like wide and promising hillocks. She wore white shorts that were very, very short: they did not cover more than two inches of her upper thighs. Her long, bare legs were smooth and inviting. She sat on the bed, cross-legged and smiling. She winked at me.
Frank put his hand on my shoulder as he addressed the woman and girl. “This is Ishmael” he said. Then he looked down as me. “Ishmael, this lovely redheaded creature is Brenda.” At the sound of her name, Brenda bowed her head slightly.
Pointing to the girl, Frank said “And this young cunt is Wanda.” The girl smiled, showing rows of perfect, pearly-white teeth. She raised a hand and waved at me.
“She’s 14” Frank said causally. He smiled at the girl. “Wanda, why don’t you tell Ishmael about your relationship to Brenda?”
Wanda nodded her head, still smiling. “Brenda is my new Mommy. Master told my old Mommy to give me to Brenda. Brenda is teaching me to be a good sex slave.”
My jaw practically hit the floor. The young girl spoke without the slightest hesitation, or any apparent fear, coercion, or resentment. She seemed completely sincere. And happy. I just stared at her as she continued speaking.
“Since Brenda is not my birth mommy, Master says it’s OK if we lick on another’s cunts and stuff. I’d rather suck Master’s dick than lick any old cunt, though. Brenda says if I keep practicing, I can become as good a cocksucker as she is. Right, Mommy?” The girl reached out and rested a hand on the redheaded woman’s bare leg.
Brenda looked at the girl, smiled, and squeezed her hand. “That’s right, dear. You keep sucking dick and one of these days you’ll be deep-throating Master just as good as me.”
The woman spoke as sincerely as the girl. Was she acting? I didn’t think so. But I couldn’t be sure. This all seemed too good to be true.
Frank spoke up “Are you slaves ready to show Ishmael what you can do?”
“Yes, Master!” they answered in unison.
Frank squeezed my shoulder. “Very good” he said, then turned to look me directly in the eye. “I have instructed them to do whatever you command. Just as if your orders had come from me. The only things they will not do are to hurt themselves or anyone else.” He paused. “Beyond the normal course of rough sex, that is” he said with a wink and a smile. “Oh, and do not ask them to leave me and become your slaves. I own them, body and soul.”
Frank took his hand off my shoulder and addressed the woman and girl, who were still seated on the bed.
“Who owns you, bitches?” he asked.
“You do, Master!” they answered enthusiastically. “You own us, body and soul. We are your property. We are your slaves. We live only to serve you.” The faces of the beautiful buxom redhead and the gorgeous 14-year-old blonde were radiant with joy as they made their declarations of obeisance. They seemed proud to be the living property of a man.
Now let me pause here for a moment. Have you ever watched porn videos of whores pretending to be slaves? Not very convincing, are they? Whores are paid to pretend lots of things, but it’s usually pretty clear that they’re just going through the motions for the money at the end. This is usually not a problem, because whores in motion are what men want. Acting is something else altogether. So is being real. Most whores can’t act worth shit. And they are certainly not for real. When they pretend to be, they come off as more fake than ever.
Brenda and Wanda were not acting. Not as far as I could tell. They seemed completely genuine, sincere, and enthusiastic. Sweet, even.
Frank began walking toward the door. As he gripped the door handle, he looked over his should and said “I’ll leave you three alone for the next couple of hours. Then I’ll come back to check on you.” He walked out and closed the door behind him.
Brenda took Wanda by the hand. They both rose from the bed and walked over to me. Brenda bent over, her ample cleavage peeking through the opening in her white blouse. She placed her face about two hand-widths away from mine. Brenda’s abundant natural red hair framed her lovely, moon-white face like a flaming aura. Her green eyes were mesmerizing. She smelled like roses. Her beautiful face and hair filled my vision, from horizon to horizon. Her full lips exhaled a moist, sweet-smelling breath as she spoke.
“Master told us to follow your commands for the next two hours as if you were our Master” she spoke breathily. Her bodily scent was intoxicating. “Tell us your fantasies and we will fulfill them. We are completely obedient and subservient to men. You are our Lord. We are your slaves. You are our Master for now. We will do anything. Anything, Ishmael.”
Brenda turned her head slightly toward the girl and pulled Wanda close. Now their two faces side-by-side filled my field of view. Up close, I could see exactly how young Wanda really was. Her skin was amazingly smooth and clear. While Brenda had a slight puffiness beneath her eyes and some tiny crinkling of the skin at the outside corners of her eyes, Wanda’s eyes had no lines around them and no puffiness beneath them. She was hardly more than a child; a teenager who was approaching womanhood.
Wanda gave me a disarming, child-like smile. “We really will do anything you want, Ishmael. Just because I’m still a little girl doesn’t mean I can’t be good at sex. Well, maybe not as good as Brenda yet. But I want to get better and better. I’m still learning. But I know a girl is just like a woman because we both belong to men. We are nothing but property. We live only to serve our Owner. I know my proper place.” She reached out and touched my hand. “Please don’t be afraid to use me, Ishmael. I only exist to please men. It’s my reason for living.”
I think I must have stopped breathing there for a moment, because I felt faint. I inhaled deeply. Then I puffed out my cheeks and exhaled loudly. I looked at blonde Wanda. I looked at redheaded Brenda. Both the woman and the girl were among the most beautiful females I had ever seen in my life. Here they were offering themselves to me, without limits, and without asking anything from me in return.
.... There is more of this story ...