Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 76857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
You will not earn her honest submission if you are not worthy of it. You will not be worthy of it if you cannot conquer her.
Give her options, and guide her with care. Should she be a female of extraordinary heat, do not let her suffer. Give her means to ease the transition.
Bathe her.
Feed her.
Fuck her often.
Should it be required, submit her completely so she understands your ability to curb counterintuitive behavior and that you will wield authority over her when necessary.
Affection will develop naturally over time. Be patient.
Rapt, I read on. Cyderial had followed many of the suggestions, touching me in places the author recommended. Employing gentle language and compliments. There were detailed diagrams of female anatomy the likes of which I had never seen. The name for each nerve in my newly open slit and even greater detail on nerve bundles deep in my reproductive tract. Actual diagrams of what the female body underwent during opening, and detailed descriptions of how the male might assist to ease pain.
I looked weird inside, a labyrinth of twists and turns, specific nerves that must be stimulated by a dancing male organ. There were even exercises the man was suggested to memorize for maximum effect.
Not to mention that the soft seam between my legs, which seemed straightforward in appearance, was actually the mouth of a stretchable passageway lined with rings of muscle that would give a male pleasure—delicate and ready to be extorted with the proper method and a powerful cock.
Knowing the general had meticulously practiced every last technique over the ten years he had prepared for me. Imagining him naked, flexing and contracting that prehensile thing between his legs, learning the intricate performances needed to stimulate nerves to relax me, nerves to sexually excite me, nerves to make me climax until I saw stars….
There was even a series of nerve strokes that would reduce female discomfort from the expansive stretch male fluids inevitably caused.
The inflexible human meat stick I had seen in the pornographic video would never be able to do any of this.
The hybrid male sex organ in these images was far more capable, much larger, and less threatening on the page than in real life.
Still, it made me nervous to look upon that snake-like appendage in the diagrams. Pointed tip, with a wider flange following—to anchor it within, should a man be able to coax it inside female, willing or not. A series of segments, accordion-like, could flex to thicken or stretch to invade, the sensation of the ridges against female muscles stimulating for both parties. A knot would grotesquely expand at the broader root of the organ once she signaled orgasm, to lock her pelvis to his. It was his duty to ensure she continued to reach completion until satiated and compliant to male authority.
His fluids were addictive, the ultimate balm to soothe a heat. Sexual ejaculation the ultimate cure, saliva enough to soften the fever, but not to end it.
One sexual encounter and no other man would ever be able to ease the female’s compulsory chemical dependence. Other hybrid males would no longer hear her song and would therefore have no interest in copulation.
Whoever knotted a desired mate first was the eternal winner. Courtship, getting to know your female, could be enjoyed following intercourse and compelled addiction.
The language the author had chosen to describe these actions was deeply unsettling. This was a manual on forcing a woman who may not be willing but needed to be made compliant.
Compelled addiction.
After the agony of organs ripping apart and reforming, no female would want sex, and no male would be able to resist forcing a bond.
Cyderial had done this to me.
Unless some miracle came to save her, General Thayer would do this to Maeve.
Every girl I knew at the academy would suffer, only to be mounted moments later by a male who was most likely a stranger. What if the men had not read this manual? What if they didn’t know what to do to make the pain as minimal as possible?
The thought was horrific.
Why were we not taught this about our bodies?
Because there was no motivation for women to mate. We were not driven to insanity by the song. We did not have the sexual appetite boys had to struggle with growing up. If we did not want children, there was no reason to engage in something that would rip you in half and then bind you to a man who could make you fall asleep with little more than a sweet scent, a rhythmic melody, and some soft words.
If we knew, many of us would refuse men altogether.
We were born and confined until maturity so the stronger gender of our species could snatch us right off the list, our ignorant little heads filled with nonsense.
Or in my case, taken as punishment for wanting to be free.