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The following is a work of fiction set in a very far future. Nothing in it should be taken too seriously…

Monday, September 3, 2012

Chapter 11, Alona's Rule






"I frightened her?" Bobbi said, disbelieving.

"Oh, yes. You did," Désiré replied. "What was the term you Americans used? You scared her half to death."

"But all I did was give her things she wanted."

"Which was the problem," the other boy replied. "You see, there is just something creepy about a man who is that desperate. When someone is that willing to debase themselves, she begins to wonder what it is you conceal. Maybe no other woman would touch you. Maybe you have disease. Maybe you are a pervers. Maybe you are the mass murderer and have bodies in the basement. The wonder is that your Millie did not call the police and have you arrested."

"I didn't know.  I had no idea."

"Typical," Désiré replied, a little disgusted. "So very typical. Particularly for American men. You thought you could gain a woman's favor only by buying her. That is, by giving her everything she wanted."

He shook his head. "But that was not your fault. You were trained from birth to think you had no value. No right to self-respect. All those bumbling sit-com fathers and dimwitted boyfriends on TV. All those women teachers eager to 'empower' girls and teach boys that they are nothing. All those corporations hiring women over men. No wonder that when they, the women, decided that they and they alone should rule the world you just rolled over and gave it to them."

"I…"

"But, that is of no import now." Désiré looked him up and down. "You will have to learn much. You will have to learn that you are not here to be their Knight in Shining Armor. That you are not here to serve their every need." He laughed softly again, but this time there was something a little grim about it. "Indeed, it is time for them to serve a few of yours."

"I'm sorry," Bobbi said. "I don't understand."

Désiré patted him on the arm. "Don't worry. You'll soon learn the rules of the game. I'll teach them to you."

"Thank you," he said, grateful, but mostly just feeling confused.

"We shall start with your appearance," Désiré said, and then began to instruct him in the arts of make-up and clothing.















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