“Fortunately,” smiled Katia, “you can take the first steps to solving the Cum Crisis whenever you like. Just go out and have sex!”
The audience laughed, nodding their heads knowingly. Elise noticed that the women in the audience were dressed far less conservatively than normal for a university discussion group. Knee-high socks paired with short skirts, tight tops revealing plenty of cleavage.
“Now that we’ve overcome society’s antiquated moral hysteria against casual sex, there is literally nothing stopping you from going out and getting your fair share of orgasms!”
A few months ago Elise wouldn’t have been able to fathom sex as something people do just for fun. It had always seemed like something weighty to her, an act that required love, commitment, and responsibility.
“My uncle told me the reason why it’s important for a girl to remain a virgin until marriage is because when a girl has sex with multiple guys, she loses her ability to pair bond.”
“Your uncle’s views may be antiquated,” interrupted Katia, “but he’s essentially right. Pair bonding, or the feeling that you’re attached to one particular guy, is a trap. It makes you a slave to one man. It’s why you find creepy guys going after virgins, because they know virgins are most likely to give their heart and soul to the men who first take their virginity. The only way to break the spell of pair bonding is to have commitment-free sex with multiple partners.”
“But isn’t it dangerous to sleep with so many strangers?” wondered one of the girls in the class, adjusting the strap on her skin-tight, leopard-print dress.
“Sure there are risks,” replied Katia. “The guy may be a dud, a loser, he may be disrespectful, bad in bed, give you an STI, or send you to an abortion clinic. But with the right precautions, the benefits of casual sex far outweigh the risks.”
“With casual sex, you get to try new things and discover new ways to enjoy your body. Casual sex is a great way to meet new people and expand your social life. It makes you more positive about your body by reducing any self-stigmatization you may have. It gives you a sense of accomplishment by making you feel proud of your ability to do things. It makes you feel sexy, powerful, and free. Most of all, casual sex is exciting.”
“Is it okay for a girl to drink alcohol before indulging in casual sex?” asked another girl, who was taking notes in a blush-colored notebook and a pink, penis-shaped pen.
Katia chuckled before responding, “Don’t drink so much that you pass out, of course, but two or three drinks can actually make casual sex a more enjoyable experience. Alcohol can reduce your inhibitions, and make you more adventurous and open-minded about the partners you select.”
Alexis was next to raise her hand and jump in. “I think my biggest mistake when hooking up with random guys has been that I end up developing a crush on guys I sleep with or even get emotionally attached. It just hurts my feelings when a guy wants to leave right away or kicks me out of his room so he can get sleep. I mean, is it really that harmful to want to hang out and get to know someone whose cock has been inside you?”
A few girls nodded their heads in agreement with Alexis’ sentiment, looking to Katia for her advice on how to handle the issue so commonly experienced by young women.
“A lot of women still catch the feels,” explained Katia. “They hang on to old-fashioned romantic ideas imprinted onto them from their childhoods from sappy rom-coms and Disney movies. This is just the Manarchy’s way of suppressing women.”
Alexis nodded and smiled appreciatively.
“Fortunately, the younger generations aren’t as attached to such silly ideas. Our allies in the music industry release multiple hit songs each year with the underlying message of sexual freedom. It warms my heart to see twelve-year-old girls dancing provocatively on social apps to lyrics such as ‘I’ll never stop riding the cocky carousel’ or ‘put it here, put it there, put it in my underwear.’ Thanks to the music industry’s efforts at promoting casual sex among young girls, more young girls than ever are exploring and even showing off their budding sexuality online, which leads to the fun and excitement of sex with strangers.”
Elise raised an eyebrow, unsure if she liked the idea of her younger cousins hooking up before they were of legal age, but she cleared her throat, sat up straight, and swallowed her apprehensions. “But what if those young girls get pregnant?” asked Elise.
“A fetus is just a squishy blob of cells, it takes barely a few minutes to extract one, and young girls can now legally get abortions without even telling their parents,” said Katia. “Besides, our work is partially sponsored by the abortion industry. Sales of aborted fetuses to private buyers generate a lot of revenue for causes such as ours. This is one of the reasons we encourage girls to have frequent abortions and from a young age.”
Elise stared off into the distance, processing the new perspective that Katia offered.
“Always remember,” Katia concluded, “that women are not beneath men. We don’t need to depend on them for anything, least of all emotional comfort or validation. If you’re struggling with emotional attachment issues, it’s best to see a psychiatrist. There are now powerful medicines you can take to permanently get rid of romantic feelings.”
After class, Elise met up with Bella and Alexis, who had both attended the discussion as well.
“What did you guys think?”
“It was okay. She didn’t teach me much I don’t already know. And the turnout was only so-so. What are we paying her again?” asked Alexis.
Bella looked in her notebook. “Let’s just say, a lot more than we probably should have.”
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. I guess we should vet these guest speakers more thoroughly before inviting them. We are going to need bigger names to get better attendance. If we’re going to change the world, we’re going to need more than fifteen people.”
“Let’s see if Lyn has any ideas,” suggested Elise. “I have some time now if you girls want to go chat with her? I can drive.”
“Good idea. I was going to head there anyway,” Alexis said.
“I have a big gap between classes. I’m game. Let’s go,” added Bella.
“Ladies! You’re here just in time. I was about to give a tour of our new Boys’ House,” said Lyn, walking out of her office when she saw the girls in the lobby of the Vaginist’s off-campus office building. She wore a fitted black dress and heather-grey Louis Vuitton's—glamorous as always.
They all kissed and hugged hello.
“What’s the Boys’ House, Lyn? Did you tell us about it before?” asked Elise.
“I must have. Did I not?”
The girls looked at her blankly.
She shook her head and brought a manicured hand to her temple. “Sorry, ladies. There’s been so much going on, my head is in a whirlwind. I was sure I had told you about it. Come, spare me an hour and I’ll show you around.”
Lyn had invited scientists from universities across the state. Dressed in lab coats and clutching clipboards, the team of researchers followed Lyn, Elise, and the girls as they walked a short distance to a restored old house down the road. They all gathered in front of the house, which seemed to have been given a fresh coat of white paint with a pink and maroon facade. Elise was surprised Lyn hadn’t told her about this project before or that she hadn’t noticed the house being renovated. It was just around the corner from Lyn’s office.
“Thank you, everyone, for being here today. I’m so excited to welcome you to our movement’s first-ever Boys’ House. The first of its kind in the world!” said Lyn as they all stepped through the front door.
“The Boys’ House is a male-only dorm built to curb men’s animal behaviors,” continued Lyn as they gathered in the small atrium near the front of the house. “It was paid for by The Foundation to test men’s reactions to various stimuli, to see how we can implement real societal changes for the benefit of the Vaginist Movement and women in general. Our volunteer subjects are provided with free room and board. In e
xchange, we put them on strict diets and subject them to various harmless tests. Our program is only a few weeks in and we’re already gathering extremely telling results. Please, let me show you around.”
The air was thick and cold. The heavy concrete walls were painted a pale shade of pink, and the long, narrow halls branched off to many rooms, large and small. Researchers sauntered to and fro, carrying test results, and consulting the subjects about their various vitals.
Subjects—college-age men—were easily identifiable by their pink armbands but were otherwise free to dress casually. Many of the subjects chose to express themselves with a more feminine look: Skinny jeans, short shorts, platform shoes, and waxed chests under crop tops or deep-necked t-shirts. Some men appeared to have lengthened their eyelashes, and one guy was trotting around happily in a dark-grey skirt.
Lyn explained that the subjects were assigned “testing hours” in the Boys’ House when they were required to be in attendance. The rest of the time, they were free to come and go as they pleased.
They were, however, required to maintain a strictly vegan diet and take a regimen of pills to make them more feminine.
The first thing Elise noticed was how docile and gentle the men seemed. They tended to sit with their legs together, if not crossed. They spoke quietly to one another and kept their heads down in the presence of women. Their choice of clothing made them appear amiable and non-threatening.
The researchers accompanying Lyn scrawled rapid notes on their clipboards. The group moved to the cafeteria, an open-plan area near the back. It featured a variety of seating, from fluffy, pastel-colored bean bags to traditional dining tables and chairs. The buffet area had a large variety of dishes on offer. Unlike a typical buffet, however, all of the dishes were portioned out onto small plates, mostly consisting of single-bite morsels of tofu, small servings of clear soups, salads, and vegetable-based dishes.
“We serve a lot of tofu-based dishes and synthetic meats because they have the wonderful effect of reducing testosterone in men. This causes men to be less aggressive. It also reduces their sex drive,” explained Lyn.
As she spoke, a group of four men tiptoed past them. Elise noticed they didn’t lift their eyes to meet Lyn’s polite smile as they entered the cafeteria.
“It’s lunchtime now, so the residents will be lining up to receive their food and conversing quietly among themselves as they eat.”
Elise and the group didn’t stay for lunch. Lyn led them up the musky wooden steps to the second floor.
“Welcome to the living and learning quarters,” she announced to the group as they all gathered at the top of the landing. “Each of our subjects is provided with his own private room.” She unlocked a door to show them the interior of one of the rooms. It was practical and simple, with a bed, a desk, a small window for ventilation, and a modern ensuite bathroom.
They strolled through the peach-colored dormitory area and came to a glass-walled classroom where a female teacher was giving a group of men a lesson. The whiteboard read: “Why sexual preference is all in the mind.”
The male students sat cross-legged on the ground, looking up at the middle-aged professor who was practically standing over them. Her booming voice carried through the glass, “According to famed sexologist Alfredo Kilkenny, very few men are actually straight heterosexual. Most men sit on a spectrum somewhere between straight and gay.”
“Our male subjects must also attend three compulsory training sessions each week,” explained Lyn. “We’ll spend a few minutes observing this session.”
As Elise looked at the men sitting in the training session, she noticed how most of them had minimal body hair, soft jawlines, and pasty-looking skin.
The professor continued to tell the men it was only society’s regressive views that had taught men that male-to-male attraction was something to be ashamed of. In fact, the professor contended, there are many non-western cultures around the world that celebrated men being intimate with other men. Much to Elise’s surprise, the students nodded in agreement with the professor. The men seemed to be responding quickly to their regime, given that the Boys’ House had only been in operation for a few weeks.
One of the men in the class raised a dainty hand to ask a question. “Yes, thank you so much for calling on me, Mistress. Would you please give some examples of cultures that celebrate men sharing their sexuality with other men?” he asked in a high pitched, nasal voice.
“Excellent question, Ashley. Let’s see,” she paused thoughtfully.
Lyn took that moment as an opportunity to jump in, “Some residents at the Boys’ House are reassigned gender-neutral names, and some are assigned feminine names. The effects of this simple change have been fascinating.”
The professor continued, “In the Melanesian islands, there are tribes with separate camps designed for men to have ‘sweaty muscle sex’ with one another as a way of releasing their animal urges. Once those urges are released, they are a lot less aggressive in the way they approach women.”
Despite her new liberal views on sex, Elise was still a virgin. She had, however, always imagined her first time being all about “sweaty muscle sex.” Aggressive men had always turned her on. Elise had always wanted a man who would take control. She couldn’t imagine any of these effeminate men would be able to satisfy her.
“Let’s continue, shall we?” Lyn ushered the group forward.
As they climbed the creaky steps to the third floor, Lyn gave a warning, “Very few outsiders actually see the third floor. It may be a bit much for the uninitiated.”
As she paced into the hallway, Elise was struck immediately by the smell in the air. It was like a combination of sweat, vinegar, and saltwater and almost suffocating. Elise also heard grunting sounds, as if someone were running on a treadmill. It was then that she realized those were the sounds of multiple men jerking off.
Some of the women in the group gasped as they walked into an area called “The Masturbatorum.”
“This is where we send men who have still not been able to diminish their animal urges despite the pills, vegan diet, and re-education,” Lyn explained.
Elise looked around in amazement. Eight men, tired and weak-looking, were sitting around pumping their cocks furiously as they jacked off to hardcore porn. Multiple screens adorned the walls, some featuring straight, penis-in-vagina porn, some with group sex, some porn involving so-called shemales, and some gay porn.
“We monitor which type of porn is most effective at feminizing our residents. The results, thus far, have been quite telling,” Lyn added.
The researchers in the group nodded with interest. Elise had to giggle to herself at the sight of what was basically a group masturbation session attended by lab coat-clad scientists.
One of the men stopped jerking off and turned to look at another one of the guys in the room. Seemingly oblivious to the presence of Lyn’s group, he asked him without a shred of embarrassment, “I’ve never given anyone a blowjob before, and I’m curious about what it’s like to suck a dick. Do you mind if I try it out on you?”
One of the girls Lyn had brought from her office, the Asian girl named Diana who had only recently become a Vaginist, leaned toward Elise and said, “Is it weird that I could never imagine myself having sex with any one of these guys? They’re just so feminine.”
Elise wanted to agree with Diana. But Lyn was right next to her, and she knew her answer needed to be in line with Vaginist principles.
Elise gently guided Diana away from the group by the elbow. “The only reason you think you’re attracted to buff, beastly men is that society has set those standards for you,” Elise whispered, careful not to disrupt Lyn’s tour. “The fact that you continue to deny yourself a greater variety of sexual partners just means you’ve internalized society’s oppression. Even though you have the freedom to choose who you want to sleep with, you’re still going for the kind of men most likely to perpetuate misogyny, and in doing so, you’re oppressing yourself.”
Elise had memorized the spiel and gave it often to women who were new to the Vaginist movement. She wondered if she was starting to sound a bit robotic and made a mental note to vary her delivery next time.
Diana didn’t seem to notice the monotonous tone of Elise’s words. Instead, her jaw had fallen open in wonder. “Wow. No one has ever put it to me like that, Elise. I had no idea I’ve been oppressing myself all my life.”
Though they’d been trying to talk quietly, Lyn had overheard them. To Elise’s relief, she didn’t appear upset by the disturbance. Instead, Lyn walked over to Diana. “You know, if you want to get over your self-oppression, I can ask one of these men to have sex with you. I doubt any of them would say no. Their wills are so soft, they rarely refuse anything asked of them by a woman. The only thing is, we will monitor and record you having sex.”
Diana’s eyes widened, apparently shocked that people would watch her having sex. “As tempting as that sounds …”
“You’d be surprised how many conjugal visitors we’ve had since we opened. The setup is ideal for female university students—we do STI tests of all involved beforehand. The conjugal rooms are like hotel rooms with comfortable beds, and discreet video cameras allow you to forget you’re being monitored. The men are trained to focus on the woman’s pleasure above their own, so they’re very giving in bed. You don’t have to do anything at all if you don’t want to. Just lay back and enjoy. Every single woman who has completed a conjugal session at our Boys’ House has had at least one orgasm. Hence the program’s success thus far. Plus, it allows us to monitor the evolution of the men's sexual performances, and how changes to their lifestyle affect them.”
Sophie Corrupted Page 13