I remember when David had the tongue stud put in…despite the local anaesthetic, he yelped. Ambrose and I took him down, checked of course that he was ready to go through with it, and then the nice female clinician poistioned the tool over his carefully restrained tongue and punched the the stud through. Naturally there was a little blood and his tongue swelled a bit. But I was confident that all would be well. Ambrose and i were going away to Copenhagen for a fw days so I didn’t need David to lick me. David could deal with his discomfort, his new public shame quietly at home alone. You see, no one really had a tongue stud put in just to look or feel sexy these days. It was the obvious sign that he was owned. The leather collar around his neck could be removed, the tattoo with an A and a ladybird etched on his left cheek could be hidden, but every time David opened his mouth the stud would show. It would say I lick and suck to order.
We weren’t the first in our area to adopt the new lifestyle. Katie and Yvete both lived with black lovers and their husbands were redefined and reassigned. Arrogant and intelligent black males liked owning the white guys that they had bettered. It wasn’t enough that you occupied the marriage bed and fucked the sexy white bitch, it was necessary that you repeatedly and publicly controlled the beaten male. It was, strangely, compellingly, the most erotic form of voluntary slavery. Husbands could be taught to adore the man who had beaten them and taken their woman. They could learn to talk with a sense of awe about the alpha’s guy’s handsome erection. They could calmly, humbly concede that as their wives were capable of multipl orgasms and wanted more and better sex, that it was simply right that their wives chose to lie with black men rather than them. The pattern of the submission varied. Some men were quite visibly and cruelly enslaved. I know that some of the men got beaten quit badly. Ambrose and I were more generously minded. Just as long as David’s cock remained caged, as long as he didn’t ever dare try to give me an orgasm with his tongue without my express direction, that he acknowledged to the world that Ambrose and I were a couple, that he delivered 80% of salary for me to spend on my wardrobe, cuck wouldn’t be beaten. David tended to address me as Miss and Ambrose as sir, but that was his way of showing respect. It was simply less confusing to seperate us out as his superiors that way.
We are very public about the arrangment. We want other people to live this way. For a woman it is uber liberated! I feel intense contentment. I think that we, women, are meant to judge men. Assigning one to one role and accepting another in a dominant role is what women do. It’s what makes them mistress in their own homes. So we spent some time teaching other couples, explaining how denial reframes the beta male mind, how having the cuck assist in sex establishes a purpose and identity, as well as a hierarchy. Weak husbands quized david what it was like, girlfriends tried out, using David’s mouth and discovered what it was like, in your head to rule a man. Ambrose had no shortage of brothers who wanted our assistance, to teach their women to be bitches and their beta males to be something freely compliant.
It was the population pressure response agency of the govt that rang me and asked whether we would feature in a series of their training films. Apparently the govt were about to move faster still. Remember, there were no elections any more, no democratic hindrances to the elite, the expert directing society rather more practically. Science was very much applied. So now, I, Ambrose and I, I suppose we, David included, were going to become stars of the cause. I felt flattered, a little frightened, but Ambrose was certain we should do it, so we accepted and the film crew came and stayed in the house for a week so we could get all the ‘living’ excerpts and the interview sequences. I didn’t want David ‘jumped’ with this requirement so I prepared sensibly. I made him wait a couple of weeks for pussy licks, and then told him. He had to be very good and responsive OK? He had to talk intelligntly, but compliantly to the interviwers alright? David blushed. I don’t think that he wanted to be a film cuck, but he nodded politely and I pulled his mouth at last against my sex.
Two rather haughtily dressed women ran the show, one the director Claudia and the other the interveiwer, Amelie. I remember that they wanted some opening and trailer shots for the series, so David sat on the floor beneath the big leather sofa and I draped myself against Ambrose on top. I was wearing a severe pair of high laced Victorian leather boots, tight jeans and a flouncy white blouse. Claudia told Ambrose how startlingly handsome he was and of course Am preened himself with the adoration. Claudia encouraged him to ignore the several cameras and to pet me. His big hand went inside my jeans and he started kissing me, teasing my lips with his. We started to relax and even giggle and Claudia told David to look down at the floor. She had tried it with him gazing up at us, but n balance, the submissive look was the better ‘shot’.
Strangely enough the more active David had to be in a shot, the more comfortable he seemed to be. There was a lovely video sequence where David brought me a tray brekafast in the boudoir, Ambrose having gone out to join a shooting party. David was then to lick me out, after Ambrose and I had fucked that night. It’s a common enough thing. David toilets me. Claudia though had us move to the window seat, where I put my foot up on the cushions and Davd licked me from the kneeling position. ‘What do you talk about whilst he’s licking you?’ Claudia wondered and I said instantly, ‘Ambrose’. Claudia gave the thumbs up sign, ‘perfect’. So we talked about Ambrose. He was going to move to another gym, to strengthen further his lower torso work outs. That was true. David said ‘perfection on top of perfection’ and I smiled. ‘You admire him, don’t you, as a man, not just because of how he owns me?’ David was licking exquistely. That little tongue stud was sliding back and forth, and up and down my slit. ‘He’s amazing…honestly…he drives a car like he thinks, decisively’. I didn’t realise just how wide ranging, how absolute David’s admiration was. I wanted to talk hold of his hair and drag my sex against his mouth. But Claudia sensed that immediately, shook her head and smiled. The proper tableaux, the camera loving one was David, with his hands behind his back (our etiquette) feeding at pussy like a very good boy.
On the Wednesday Amelie started her work. We were to be interviewed on that leather sofa (surely the real star of the show), I dressed in jodphurs and riding boots, and David seated at my knee, dressed in what looked like Victorian working class attire. David is never allowed on the sofa, so Amelie was uncanny in her sensing of that, but the conversation would be more difficult. We had both been issued with the outline breeding programme plans and somehow we had to make them sound thought about, even a little critiqued, but ultimately for the best. Amelie would be out of camera shot interviewing us. It started gentle enough…
‘So how do you think your discoveries, living the fuller life, might help you approach the new society?’ Amelie reminded us to pause a second, so that every response sounded considered.
I spoke first. That’s the norm and I realised that being so submissive David was in a child like position. He looked to us for a lead.
‘I think that we have begun this already, haven’t we David’ I stroked his hair affectionately. There remains affection for someone who gives me a lot of personal and very intimate pleasure. ‘We’ve talked about breeding me, just twice. You were anxious at first weren’t you David?’
I pictured the second camera close up of David’s face being chosen. Claudia was making notes.
‘I was anxious about raising a baby, a precious baby, precious to me as well I mean’ David’s voice faltered a bit. I suppose that this shamed him in some way.
‘But we agreed to send you to classes, so that you could learn to be a nanny’ I whispered my respone ralising how privileged I sounded, like a Duchess in my stately home!
‘Yes Miss….that helped. But I think….I think, it was Ambrose’s assurance, that he would teach me too, how to nurture the little one his way…that was important as well.’
It sounded idyllic I know. Perfect, and well ordered.
Amelie asked, ‘you refer to breeding is that how David thinks of it, how he accepts it?’
I stroked David’s hair again, just a little reminder, Miss speaks first.
‘David and I had a conversation soon after I fell in love with Ambrose, I would only ever have black babies. I wanted babies to come from men like him. That’s right isn’t it David?’
David nodded. I continued…
‘We have talked about this. There are characteristics about Ambrose, his intelligence, his physique, his strong health and mind, they were things that should make a baby. David accepted that from the start.’
I didn’t let David answer again and Claudia smiled. I swear that she adored our living, the quiet authority of it. There wasn’t a need to discuss interracial sex at length. You only had to see Ambrose and I together, to compare his physique and Davids and the pictures told their own telling story. It was just right, inevitable, that I chose Ambrose, that I would have his baby, not David’s.
‘The new breeding selection policy emphasizes the role that women play, it layers on top of the choices that women like you have already made Elizabeth.’ Amelie’s question came in, behind her Claudia pointed to me.
‘I think it does more than even that. It works with instinct, our need to select partners who have the best credentials. In the past women were coy, we pretended that we weren’t choosing. But in the past women had affairs to get the genes that they wanted. Now women, married women are insisting on breeding with the right men, assuring husbands that they have other valuable roles to play. A nice man is nice, not because of his prowess in bed, not because he is breeding material, but because he is nurturing.’
‘Does Ambrose insist that you will breed with him alone, or would he encourage you to have a baby with another black man?’ Amelie’s voice is entirely soft, and completely level.
‘We’re thinking about one baby by him and one by his friend Jean-Paul. Jean Paul is from the French part of Africa. He’s a business man. It’s a mixing of fantastic genes.’ I wasn’t sure that I had mentioned that to David, so I knotted some of his mane quietly around my finger. It was a reminder of manners.
‘But David will raise them both?’ Amelie wondered.
‘Yes…of course’ I answered.
Amelie checked her notes and smiled.
‘Tell me a little more about your thoughts on the selection of breed males?’ she ventured.
‘Well, I think its right that the preference should always be for black males, of course. Women find black men extremely attractive. We want black men. But its right too that the gene health checks are there, the intelligence and attitude checks as well. Panels of experienced women are the right people to make the final decision.’
‘Not many white men are ever going to be allowed to breed are they?’ Amelie is doing her journlist bit.
‘That’s the default position and with good historical reason. We have to think species and erase the skin colour bar. I don’t have a problem with that.’
Amelie presses on.
‘You don’t have a problem with large numbers of white males being chemically neutered?’
‘No I don’t’ I said firmly. Claudia nodded. I was meant to hold firm here. ‘There will be some white guys who are allowed to breed workers..’ I added.
‘Then they are castrated’ Amelie observed caustically.
I felt irritated with her then. Irritated at a personal level, but irritated on behalf of David too.
‘Beautiful intelligent women want to breed with the right men. They are drawn to the right men and they are ready to make the judgements. But I was encouraged by the susbsequent disposal section of the new policy.’
Amelie nodded. She liked the fiesty response.
‘You refer to the cuckold testing?’
‘Yes exactly! If a beta male, once castrated shows potential, then he has an incredibly valuable role to play, supporting a couple, supporting chldren, promoting the new society! David is part of our family. They’re going to allow three months to see if a castrated man will bend to will. David took nearly six months, but that was without being castrated.’
I know, I know, that sounded trite, arrogant, preposterous doesn’t it. Once David had been my husband until I divorced him and had him stay on in a new way.
‘David?’ asked Amelie. Claudia stared intensely. Now was the moment. If he messed up, then there was film cutting and digital spllcing to do.
‘I don’t know whether every non selected white male would have the right temperatment, to submit. But being castrated reduces your aggressive male nature. I adore Miss Elizabeth and I adore master Ambrose. I live this way ou of admiration, out of a feeling of fate I suppose. As soon I saw Ambrose kiss Miss, I knew that it was meant to be.’
‘Would you volunteer to be castrated if Miss Elizabeth required it?’ Amelie asked.
I was about to intervene and say that wasn’t necessary, David was beautfully controlled. But David said,
‘In support of a population control imperative?’ Amelie asked. Claudia looked annoyed, the interview was speeding away, getting intimate very quickly.
‘No, because he is black and extremely virile and because Miss Elizabeth is his woman.’ I stroked David’s hair. A thrill ran through me.
‘Don’t you ever envy Ambrose?’ That was out of order. I winced imperceptibly. Of course David envied Ambrose, he wished that he could make me feel so womanly.
‘Yes, sometimes. But they are so perfect, socially as a couple, physically, the feelings subside.’
‘You don’t think that you need to be neutured to assure the devotion?’
David actually scowled!! I saw it later in the broadcast interview used.
‘I will submit to castration when required. I do as my mistress says’.
‘You want mistress to have absolute charge of you?’ Amelie persisted.
‘Yes…it feels right that way, secure that way, if you are a beta….then….it feels sexy that way.’
Claudia signalled cut for that sequence. She came over and handed David a beer.
‘He’s perfectly adjusted Elizabeth’ she said appreciatively.
David is. I smiled at him. He had just been amazing. The conviction in his voice.
‘Of course there are going to be a lot of angry castrated rejects put out on the farms aren’t there. The numbers of David’s may be modest?’ Claudia handed me a cold glass of crisp white wine.
‘That’ inevitable’ I agreed, ‘there will be trouble changing the world in a way that’s needed.’
‘No compunction about doing that?’ she queried.
‘None’ I said firmly.
‘If they won’t submit and adjust to a very high standard, like David, then they have to be put out of the home?’
‘Exactly’ I said.