On The Minds Of Men

Chapter 6: Crisis

'It's nothing against you,' Jacqui said, her voice thinned by the telephone, yet retaining some of its Eastern European flavour. 'But I want say goodbye to the old group, as I've known it for years - talk a bit about old times, say a few words to the men too. I don't want you to feel hurt that you weren't asked to come.'

'I'm just sad it's happening,' Sandra said. 'I never really got to know you properly.'

'I've led a very contradictory life in recent times. You know how intense the group is. My partner and I just feel that to stay in the group any more - the femdom passion would just devour us both, and we want to hold on to the mainstream side of our relationship as well.'

'Are you sure about what you're doing?'

There was a long pause.

'No. I'm paralysed by indecision... not a good dominatrix am I.'

'You shouldn't talk like that about yourself. Self-criticism must be forbidden in the Rules somewhere.'

Jacqui laughed softly. 'I'm sure it is.' Abruptly her tone changed. 'Someone is coming into my house. Goodbye, Sandra.'

'Jacqui?'

'I must go.'

Jacqui replaced the receiver just as Gillian strode into the room. Despite her suprise, and despite the crisis engulfing her, Jacqui was struck first of all by the identical coloring of Gillian's eyes and pants, as though they'd been painted from the same palette. Why notice such a thing, at such a time? she wondered. The colours of Gillian seemed to glow, like the colours of flowers and plants at the onset of a storm.

'How did you get in?

'I have your key. You once gave it to me in case of emergency, don't you remember? This is the emergency.'

Gillian turned swiftly, to find Jacqui's man standing in the doorway, looking at her uncertainly.

'You - into the bedroom!' Gillian yelled. He looked down at Jacqui, who averted her face; then did as he'd been told.

As soon as he'd gone Gillian knelt before Jacqui, like a gentleman about to propose. She seized Jacqui's head in her hands, kissed both her cheeks. 'I won't let this happen to you,' Gillian said, her eyes cold, jewell-like, wild. 'You are a wonderful woman. Infinitely deserving of male subservience. But you don't know how to press down hard on the lever of power. Hence this crisis. You leave him to me. When I've finished with him he'll be yours again, yours more than ever before.'

Gillian swung open the door of the bedroom, where she found him staring out the window, fingers on the sill.

'Onto the bed,' she said. He turned to face her, opened his mouth to speak, but swift beyond belief she was there with her long, fine hand over his mouth. 'Not a word,' she whispered. He noticed the flush over her high cheekbones, filled with the same anger as her voice, and for the first time he became afraid. 'Onto the bed,' she said again. 'Your head right at the end.'

As soon as he obeyed she sat on his face, took off her shoes, unslung her belt, unzipped, then stood again to remove her jeans and panties.

'You will recall,' she said calmly, 'your begging requests to me to perform a certain act on you, which I refused, telling you that it was for Jacqui to do, if anyone, and that in my opinion it was simply too dangerous for you... You are now going to receive it from me.'

The phone rang. Sandra rushed to it. It was Anne.

With a gesture Sandra ordered her man onto the floor. Impatiently she pushed down his shoulder to flatten him more quickly, then straddled his stomach.

'There's an emergency meeting at my place as soon as you can get here,' Anne said.

'What about Jacqui?'

'She's here. Gillian took Jacqui's naughty man man to a hospital, but apparently he's OK now. Gillian says she'll be here with him shortly.'

Sandra was met at the door by Mandy's man, who immediately bowed his head. Despite her impatient curiosity about Jacqui's crisis, Sandra was distracted, and eyed him greedily. If he was not under Mandy, she thought, there'd be a good chance of sitting on him herself; and by his deferential, defeated manner he seemed to understand that his ribs would soon be bent, the air in his chest expelled, and the shape of his stomach flattened beneath the woman he was now admitting to the house.

As she entered Anne's meeting room Sandra was aware, first of all, of a calm, or rather stillness, over everything. It had something of the quality of a medieval royal court in Europe or the Near East. Then the details took form: the women were seated not on cushions but on prostrated men.

Mandy and Kath sat side by side, displaying a magnificent expanse of bare female thigh, on Jacqui's partner, crushing him under their combined weight. His arms were slack, his head was pinned down hard on one side. He was utterly unmoving. The sight struck Sandra as fundamentally satisfying, complete in itself, lacking nothing.

On another couch sat Gillian and Jacqui, also close together, on top of the still body of Gillian's man.

'It's all OK now Sandra,' Gillian said, in the tone of a surgeon declaring: 'the patient is now out of danger'.

Sandra suddenly remembered Mandy's small man, who was standing silently at her side, head still down, as though awaiting orders.

'Yes take him to the spare couch and sit on him, will you,' Mandy called across the room. Sandra and the man both complied quickly, although with different degrees of enthusiasm. Since late morning he been free from a heavy woman's weight on him, and it was now mid afternoon. Not for years had he enjoyed such a long break from being sat on, except during sleep. Now - just as he was beginning to remember what freedom felt like, and long-forgotten impulses oncemore began to stir - he was once again squashed down under the all-too-familiar pressure of a big woman's thighs and ass; once again, a woman's body and voice took over from all other experiences; and now everything, even his own thoughts, once again went hazy for him, except for his clear and continuous awareness of the body and voice of Sandra on top of him, and the presence of the other women around the room.

'I've had another victory over my man,' Mandy went on. 'You remember how he's agreed to limit his personal time to three twenty-minute breaks a day? Well, he started off using some of all three breaks to eat and drink. That's been so irritating! I can't risk squashing him down until he digests, which creates at least an extra 20 minutes for him without being sat on after each break. He can be very calculating.

'But now , after I applied a certain amount of pressure, he's agreed to reduce his midday break to 5 minutes, with no food and just a sip of water. '

'Thats marvellous!' Sandra exclaimed.

'Mandy you're very generous help us,' Gillian said. 'And Kath too. But Mandy - just when you've been making real progress in pushing down your man to a much deeper level of submission, it must be hard to give him up for hours at a time to help us. We really owe you for helping us. But we had to ask...

'Sandra, ' Gillian went on, 'we should explain what's happening. Jacqui and I have agreed to swap partners for a while... while I break down her man. Mandy and Kath are indispensable in providing Jacqui's man with a new experience of life. This sort of heavy female sitting should have happened to him long ago, he's had far too much freedom and it's only confused him and corrupted his thinking. The experience of heavy and prolonged sitting from Mandy and Kath combined is part of my therapy for him. I'm also fasting him, which will lead into a very strict ongoing diet. He's vowed to complete silence and when he's not in a meeting he'll be listening to my voice or Jacqui's all the time. When we're not actually talking I'll be playing my voice on tape to him.'

'You'd make such a good professional,' Anne remarked. Gillian lowered her eyes as a demure, cat-with-the-cream smile spread over her face. Anne continued, addressing the room: 'she's so self-disciplined. She takes a real interest in a man's deep longings, she explores and investigates and probes - but only in the interests of femdom, only to learn how to harness him and ride him down.'

Gillian leapt to her feet and began to pace back and forth.

'I'd love to lecture in it at a university! The first step, students,' she added, imitating a professorial tone, 'is to close down all argument.' She sat back down next to Jacqui, then with a playful bounce on the man's stomach resumed speaking normally. 'It is really the greatest bore in the world to have to argue with a man, and such an indignity. The man has to learn that argument is intolerable, and if necessary you have to put your whole relationship on the line to crush the argument out of him. So girls, gather up all your resources, all his longings and all his devotion, throw them on the table and gamble them as your winning hand. If you can't win that fight, then he's really just dirt to be swept away.

'But once the arguments stop - I mean there might still be a rare dispute at a critical moment - but when the routine disputes stop, then your progress becomes a lot smoother. Your voice has to fill his mind, coolly and continually; it's important to keep ordering him to do things, however small, all the time, to instil obedience as second nature.

'Once the arguments are eliminated, secrets are the next thing that has to go. Especially secrets involving other people he still deals with, and especially people he works with, or people whom he meets during the working day. It's too demeaning to keep tabs on him at work, you have to achieve psychological control, he has to know that disobedience would mean losing you - but also that anything can be forgiven through a full and frank confession. And you have to mean than when you say it.

'Once you've reduced his physical strength and energy levels, and eliminated arguments and secrets, he's more or less at your mercy. But his working life remains a major issue. You have to be as strong a presence at his workplace as you can - again, without demeaning yourself. You should know everyone of significance to him at work, and know what they mean to him, what sort of dealings he has with them. That way he commits himself, and is less tempted to hold secrets.

'It goes without saying that domestic spending should be all in your hands. Not the fixed assets necessarily, but all disposable income. He should have no free cash to play with, not even to buy a matchbox or newspaper, that you don't know about.

'And remember too, no guilt. You're doing him the greatest favour he'll ever receive in his life.'