THE FIFTH ANNIVERSARY OF THE GROUNDBREAKING OF IMPERIA
The playhouse auditorium was filled. Each woman felt a celebratory thrill; many had goose bumps, some felt a sexual tingle. There were two hundred women attending, about half stood and talked with each other, the rest sat, holding onto their programs. Suddenly from banks of speakers, a loud fanfare! It was from Richard Strauss: Thus Sprach Zarathustra, with it's pounding kettledrums causing the auditorium air to throb.
Women took their seats. The stage was empty. Then, from off stage, came the clear amplified voice of the Deputy Mayor, Maria Companosa. "Ladies, I give you our beloved Mayor, Lola Dean."
A brace of four, large and burly men, naked except for suede loincloths, carried onto the stage an ornate and heavy palette. They moved slowly, either for effect or due to the imperious burden. Their shoulders and muscular flanks gleamed in the spotlights. The Mayor of Imperia wore a dark, conservative business suit, but she'd added the affect of a tall, golden tiara, studded with gleaming gems. The audience stood and roared their approval, and laughed with glee at the camp image.
Another, smaller, nearly naked male followed the entourage and fell prone beside where the palette had stopped. Mayor Dean stepped from the palette onto the back of the slave--pausing to allow her spike heels to dig into his flesh--and the crowd erupted once more. With arms raised as if in triumph after a battle, Lola Dean strode to the mahogany lectern. She grinned and waited for the tumult to subside.
The men carrying the palette stood motionless, like great, tame human Clydesdales. Mayor Dean turned to face them. "Okay boys," she said with tongue in cheek, "you can mosey off now." And she waved the back of her hand at them. "You can pick me up--literally--in an hour." The slave lying on the floor did not move. "You too, Roy," she added. And Roy Dean, her husband of thirty years, rose and trotted off.
The audience again applauded and shrieked with laughter.
Now she spoke to the audience. "Five years, ladies, only five years! Who could have anticipated to what extent our community would grow and prosper? Who could have anticipated the outstanding response? We are on our way!"
She raised both arms overhead and the audience cheered once more.
"We are unique. We are a phenomenon. Who could have guessed that a community based on a lifestyle like ours could not only become firmly established in the very heartland of the U.S., but we have a waiting list for those eager to join us?
"The gay and lesbian community pioneered the way for us. They have shown us what muscle a united front can mean; the muscle that has, in increments, shaken liberal politicians to the point that they will pander to almost any singular group willing to vote for it. And so cities like San Francisco has become a haven for their kind, and now gays and lesbians have a tight grip on that city's government.
"And what about us? Unlike gay and lesbian movements, we have no political agenda. All we want is to be left alone. We want to follow our own philosophy, more or less the way the Amish do. We want the right to privately partake in the special lifestyle to which our hearts have led us.
But there are perils yet ahead. We who choose to live the lifestyle of Female domination understand that we are more than just different. There's little doubt that our kind are the ultimate taboo. We are more frightening to the vanilla population than gays are. After all, what parent will knowingly send their child to a class where the teacher is an avowed sadist?"
Some chuckles came from the audience.
"But now, finally, we've established our own community. Our own town! This is how we've been able to provide the means to live our lives as we wish. And now, in a gated community we have the following: a female mayor..."
She was not permitted to continue--the congregation rose to their feet and cheered again. With the audience still on its feet, Mayor Lola Dean forged ahead: "... a female Deputy Mayor, a female Chief of Police..." The cheering went on. "... a police force comprised only of female officers, and female teachers in female run schools."
Lola Dean drank in the glee. Finally, she raised her hands: "Please... please be seated, ladies."
Lola Dean looked off into the wings. She made a motion. Her near naked husband trotted out across the stage to her. She looked at him for a second, then with scorn in her voice asked, "Why is there no water pitcher here on the rostrum, and a glass to drink from?"
He looked at her in utter terror. To be questioned like this in front of a large audience, and her voice magnified by the speakers set all around; he nearly fainted on the spot. Of course, he could not answer. Although the task of setting up this meeting had nothing at all to do with him, and other women had set the stage, he made no reply. He knew enough to accept the fault that was not his. He bowed his head.
"Bring me water, please," she asked in an annoyed tone, smacking him in the back of the head before he could walk off.
The audience was not stunned. Many smiled knowingly. Others were thinking of the added, more private punishments that Roy Dean would have to face.
Lola Dean went on.
"The outside world cannot understand this at all. The vanillas, if they had infiltrated this hall, would gasp in shock at the little domestic scene just enacted. But we know, ladies. We know what these male underlings need. Men like these are our slaves. Outside, they are powerful in business and government. But once they come home to us they are mere slaves. Whether they are husbands or boyfriends they are our slaves. And slaves make the very best kind of men found on earth!"
Cheers and applause again.
"What is so exquisite about it is that we do not have to kidnap them. We don't drag them here in chains--or even keep them chained unless we like to. We don't drug them into subservience. There's no Stepford Wives kind of thing going on. Males are here under our control because they need this. And we gleefully and effectively fill their need to... our satisfaction!"
"In almost every case, the residents of Imperia are married couples. Thus, we propagate a sense of permanence and commitment. We've built Imperia not to indulge in some mere whim or for a thrill... we've built this town because the desires for dominance and submission is in our nature, in our very blood. And the results prove the theory. This thing works!"
Again, universal applause.
"Helping to finance our dreams, we own and operate businesses that lie outside of Imperia township. Here again we are unique. Thanks to a principle proposed to me years ago by our great founder, Vera von Lieden, we've found that--sorry, I have to smile--slave labor makes for greater profits."
The audience laughed.
"Males come to our factories--spread nation-wide--to serve us. They want to obey us and be become enslaved by us. And they come in droves. Fortunately, our factories are not yet saturated, so we have turned away only a few, and those because we can afford to be selective--we want only the healthiest and brightest slaves for our industry. Yet this is not slavery in a traditional sense--perhaps even slavery is the wrong word, since our slaves join us voluntarily. And they are not forbidden to leave. No factory slave is kept against its will. Even so, less than three percent of those back out. And good riddance, as there are so many more eager to find us and join us.
"In my private life with my slave husband, I am a sadist. Most of you understand and appreciate how thrilling is this sexual gift. But this gift lies barren without the added gift of the submissive male. And in this country we gather them up as one would a crop." She smiled at a woman in the front row. "No, Krissy, not that kind of crop. Male slaves are pretty much growing in fields like corn. Any of you who have had the opportunity to visit big-city s and m clubs must have immediately been impressed by the ratio of dominant women to submissive males. My guess is that for every five dominant women there are ninety-five submissive men. Now, we do understand that we are not interested in submissive males per se--only those who have an inner nature that we can mold so that on the other end they may be formed into perfect slaves, willing to serve us in a constant state of subservience and drudgery.
"And where else and how else can we foster this kind of relationship except in a community that we ourselves have created. We are the pioneers of a new age, ladies. Only five years ago we embarked upon a kind of emigration, somewhat like the Botany Bay cast-offs, and established here a community, aloof from the impositions of the surrounding society. Well, let the rest outside live their vanilla lives. Let them put up with boorish, ape-like men, who play games, who desert them left and right, who rape. That fate is not for us. We, the rulers of ours small world, will prosper on our own terms, and in some unique way the males slaves are finding their fates as well."
The entire audience jumped to its feet. Two hundred women roared their approval. And the celebration began.
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