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*****
Why do they do it? Some say they stay because they actually want it. Some say they are just too afraid to walk away. Wives, girlfriends -- even sissies and gay subs -- get beaten quite often by their so-called lovers. There is a new support group, now international, that forces the weak and abused to make their needed Final Confrontation. This Final Confrontation is a Castration Confrontation, a Castration Initiation where the beaten turn the tables (the kitchen tables in this case) right around, and the beaten become the eaters and the beaters become the eaten. ***** For example: George has been absolutely smothering his wife Kristen with affection for years. With his smothering affection, however, comes Near-Suffocation, Absolute Direction, Absolute Control, Absolute Abuse, when he goes out of control. Maybe a guy looked at her at a club and she accidentally made eye contact with her admirer. Her polite yet almost instantaneous smile back at the stranger quickly turned to a gasping fear of death as she sensed that George had witnessed the nanosecond when the woman he owned had looked at another man without his permission. George did see it, but he did not immediately let on. Later, when the baby was asleep, George and Kristen were chatting around the kitchen table. Kristen had made George a warm sandwich in one of her many efforts to keep him content and relaxed. "Too much fucking mustard, you bitch!" There was no mustard problem, but George needed something to get him started in the fanatical frenzy by which he always ended his Friday happy hours. He would only be happy for the weekend if his wife was made unhappy in the extreme, if her life came within six inches of being ended. And you think men don't know their way around a kitchen? Well, George knows how to use every culinary device there is in his deviant and vicious attacks. Kristen spent Saturday and Sunday bandaging fork holes all over her arms, icing the back of her head where George hit her with the back of a meat cleaver. In her stupor of stupidity, she justified that George must really love her because he did not hit her (yet!) with the sharp side of the cleaver. Using only kitchen utensils as his anti-woman weapons, George felt he had a safe alibi for the times he went too far, even by his own sadistic standards, and Kristen had to call 911 and get ER treatment just to survive. "Those are the marks from the stuff she uses to cook with. I don't have a clue where she keeps them or how to use them. She can really be a clutzy cook some times, and she is always doing things like adding too much mustard, or too little oregano, you know what I mean..." Kristen was too afraid (and often too sedated) to ever tell the whole story, so George's version was always accepted by the cops. ***** Fortunately for Kristen,and for millions of others, there is Erin. Although Erin has never been abused by anyone, she is the zealous leader of the Society of Castration for Retribution. She's still in her '20s. She inherited millions from who-knows-where, and she is on a mission to save the abused women (and others) of the world, to form a society among them, to make them do something so ultimately dominant that they will never allow themselves to be abused again. ***** Erin has her computer assistants scan the hospital log and police blotter of every newspaper website around the world. She can tell when a cover-up, or a screw-up, or whatever kind of fuck-up happened to allow an injustice of abuse to a woman. For example: "Scarbourough police called EMT's Saturday morning to treat a woman for wounds she suffered by falling on her kitchen cutlery..." Erin and her crew always know better. They read between the lines for what really happened, and they immediately charge out to meet the suffering woman, and then mete out justice. ***** Erin's Learjet is always fueled and ready to go. She's even the ace pilot. When she throttles that mini-rocket to full force, she really does leap tall buildings in a single bound. She never uses more than 10 feet of runway, and she and her associates are ascending to their plane of righteousness at Mach One. She's at the Scarbourough airport in no time. She doesn't need much runway to land either. With special modifications to the tail, and extra computer-aided distance and speed sensors, she can bleed her airspeed at the perfect pace to let that Lear gently drop to a stop at exactly-timed and exactly-positioned full-stall. As her plane stalls to its stop, the women are already out the door and running to limos Erin has radioed ahead for. These are all high-performance limos, with high-performance drivers (all members of Erin's Society for Castration for Retribution), and they are always fully equiped with their own type of kitchen equipment. ***** Erin's Society for Castration for Retribution (the SCR) meets Kristen in intensive care. They've changed into surgeons' gowns while enroute, so they have no problem gaining access to the woman they will save. Quietly, they whisper their "how-do-you-do's" in the ICU. They tell Kristen everything she has been needing to hear for years. In her six inches from death, she sees Erin and her SCR as angels arriving for her salvation. Kristen doesn't have to be convinced right away of George's need for castration. She doesn't need to decide right away. But she will be convinced, and she will decide. And like always, it will be nearly right away. I won't describe how Kristen was convinced, or anything about the 12 steps it takes only 12 minutes to go through when a battered woman first meets the SCR. We don't want the abusing men to get any hints that we are on to them, and that things will be coming off of them. I don't need to describe the methods of the SCR anymore than I have. If you need them, they WILL be there for you. If you've figuratively had a stomach full of abuse by a man for much too long, then soon enough the SCR will literally have your stomach full of the abusing man once and for all. ***** Patience. Another Friday night happy hour ends with the apparently romantic interlude at the kitchen table. But this time, Kristen does put way too much mustard on the sandwich. Mustard and more. Soon George awakens to find himself tied naked, face up, on the same kitchen table where he began his own rituals of abuse. That big cleaver is there too. And that six inches from life that Kristen went through far too many times is now represented by six inches of George that WILL meet its death. Erin's angelic group has prepped Kristen well for her initiation that will bring her salvation and membership in the SCR. Many of the SCR are there to help. Gagged with any kitchen utensil handy, George will watch his castration and penectomy but be silent about it. Weilded by Kristen, the sharp side of the cleaver does its thing, and George's thing falls onto a plate. Some in the SCR are doctors and nurses, and they are humanistic enough to save George's pathetic life by sewing him up. A dickless, ball-less eunuch. And not one of those many nice eunuchs-by-choice, but a eunuch for peace and justice. More accurately, he has lost his piece for justice. ***** The medical profession is not the only profession well-represented in the SCR, there are many, many. Master chefs, for example, with a master recipe for beer-battered woman-batterer's balls. Kristen, with her new-found strength and determination, and with the help of the SCR experts, really enjoys preparing George's penis and gonads with the same kitchen utensils he had repeatedly used on her. It's not that George tastes all that great, even though the expert chefs do a magnificent job of getting blood from this twip of a turnip. It is the symbolism of it all. Several bites and Kristen is swallowed into her new life of safety within the SCR, and George's manhood is swallowed away forever. ***** ***** ***** ***** Classy Bitch is, of course, an SCR member herself. The members of many abusive men have been severed with her there in assistance. Now, Erin's SCR is not a man-hating society -- it has many men as helpful associates -- but a society for protecting society from the evil caused by a world with way too many cocks and way too many balls.
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