When Demons Are Redeemed: The Dominant's Muse

Fifty-Three - Sides of Freakish

FIFTY-THREE

Sides of Freakish

As Catherine continues her slow walk up the second aisle in the coatroom-turned-holding pen, she does not allow her eyes to rest into those of another restrained, kept in check, controlled woman pitilessly stripped of everything of herself, until an arm gently falls away from one of them, and almost reaches Tristan’s art upon her.

“Am I really a freak?” Catherine then decodes, her eyes into the non-refundable’s. “That’s what my master said, and he said that freakish gets him so hard. And I . . . Don’t I look desirable?” The artificially, overwhelmingly endowed woman asks. “I mean, my boobs are all that’s me when you look at me from the front, so if they’re not attractive, then . . . He said that my body’s not even human anymore. He said that he loves these weekends because they have good scouts finding freaks like me. But . . . men notice me and come to me, and they so want to see me undress, and that’s power, right? All those women who say that they got implants for themselves and not because of men, why don’t they have surgery on their bellybutton, or on their elbows, or on their knees, then, or something? They don’t because men don’t care about those. Every woman who has implants inside her, except for breast cancer survivors, did it for men, in this man’s world, in the hopes of getting power over them. That’s why I got mine: to get men to come to me, and to make them like me. I put in the superficial hoping to get the ‘more.’ But that’s just . . . And none of the guys I want stick around, actually, so . . .

Well, to all the girls who hate their body, who feel that they have to become shaped according to men’s harsh judgement and fabricated standards for women’s bodies -- that is, who believe that they have to become manmade like other objects men use -- I’m sorry. I’m sorry that, by doing what I did, I helped further men’s cruel and ridiculous control of girls’ and women’s minds, through this control of body-image. And men should never control our bodies, let alone our very minds.”

“Imagine if men walked around with nether-area packages spreading sideways towards and onto their thighs, and falling to their knees in the other direction, looking most unnatural and inhuman, and walking funny because of it,” Catherine recalls her writer-friend telling her. “And, whatever you feel while imagining males moving about oddly and just looking ridiculous all-around because of that alteration, remember that that’s what men like to feel about women, and that that overall ‘ridiculous’ label attached to a female prevents meaningful emotions from forming. Proof? Tell me what emotions come to you, as you imagine men that way. Do you even notice that they have a face, something more, or are you too busy with the freakish? Imagine yourself approaching that package, being near it, wondering what it looks like unclothed, and just so focusing on it, on the oddity, that when he speaks, you look up, but then the unnatural down there  moves this way and that with his hand gestures or whatever, and your attention goes right back to the oddity, to the huge bulk there. So, where’s the more that you usually feel when you look into a man’s eyes, face? You’re busy instead noticing that his thighs are no longer separated by a gap and that he no longer looks like a human male should, and your brain is busy handling all of that in different ways, but opening files of love and such is not one of those ways. And no, that hugeness wouldn’t make his pleasure greater, just like bigger boobs don’t make a woman’s physical pleasure greater. And yes, health problems and pain would arise from the bulk, just like they do from implants.