A Tennessee Education Pt. 01

"And you are OK with that?"

"I am. I don't see why I wouldn't be."

"Well Bobby here has his mother cook for him most every day even though he has a kitchen in his basement apartment and yet he tells me he lives independently from them. Does that seem right to you?"

"I don't know his situation, Ms. K so I really can't comment."

"I think he's lazy and is taking advantage of his mother. The man is almost forty. I think it's time for him to grow up and move out."

"Maybe it is but that's probably a separate issue. Maybe his mom enjoys cooking for him and having him around the house."

Bobby grinned.

"I take it you enjoy waiting hand and foot on... What's his name?"

"Jonathan. Yes I do."

"And does he wait on you," she asked.

Sharon thought for a moment. She didn't remember anyone having asked her such a question. "As a matter of fact, no he doesn't but why should he? There's nothing in the Bible that says a man should wait on a woman."

"And that's OK with you? You don't have a problem with that?"

"I don't understand where you are going with this," she said redirecting her question.

"I'm not going anywhere with it. I'm just trying to understand you. I know the Bible does say a man should love his wife so much that he is willing to die for her. I think there's a lot of room in that statement for men to serve. Don't you?"

"I guess. I never thought about it."

"You should."

"Why?"

"Because I don't think it's right for you to dote all over him and let him assume he has a right to tell you to do this, or fetch that, or assume he has ownership of you."

"But that's what the Bible says," her attitude becoming more defensive. "Maybe I'm just different from other women you've met."

"Actually Ms. Ashby you aren't. I know lots of women like you."

That response surprised her. She asked, "Do you go to church too?"

"I do."

"Then that makes sense."

Ms. K didn't answer but suddenly slid out of the booth and stood. Looking at Bobby she said, "You can go now. I want to talk with Ms. Ashby alone."

He looked at her with an obviously surprised expression. He could not figure this woman out and that bothered him. He was about to say something but thought better of it. Quietly he slid out, and excused himself. "I'll see you back at school Ms. Ashby. I'm going to visit Mr. Richardson's biology class."

"Thank you Bobby. I'll see you later."

When he had left Ms. K sat. Sharon wasn't sure why she had just excused him but waited for her to say something profound. When she didn't, she broke the silence. "I take it you wanted to talk to me privately?"

"There was no need for him to be here. He just wanted to hear things he'd only gossip to others. Having him here did neither him nor us any good. He needed to go."

Sharon smiled. "I could never do what you just did but I love the way you handled him."

"He's no different than any other man. He has one thing on his mine all the time."

"Work?" Sharon asked.

Mariko broke into a hearty laugh. "Work, oh my god woman you are from a different planet! Work is the last thing on his mind. It's sex that consumes him."

"And what gave you that clue?"

"Oh, just that one of the first things out of his mouth last week about you was a comment on how you dress; that he can't maintain eye contact with me but kept looking at my boobs. Didn't you see how he undressed that waitress?"

"I did. It was disgusting."

"Indeed it was. I wanted to grab his balls and make him scream."

Sharon covered her mouth with a hand. "Ms. K! She exclaimed."

"All men are the same and the sooner you understand that the better off you will be. I believe it's a woman's job to control them and not take that kind of crap."

"I don't believe in that. At least Jonathan isn't that way."

"Ms. Ashby," Mariko said, "Jonathan is no different than Bobby or Mr. Williams, or Mr. Richardson, or your father or any other guy. It's how they are programmed and how they think. It's something I learned the hard way a long time ago. Now I try to help other women avoid similar difficulties by teaching them how to handle their husband or partner."

"Did you yell at him this morning?" Sharon asked not quite sure how to change the subject.

"Why do you ask?"

"Because when we met in the conference room he was obviously upset. All he told me is that he had met with you to fill out some paperwork but I could see he was an emotional wreck."

Ms. K. smiled. "Men need to know their place. Let's just say we had a misunderstanding that we had to get straightened."

Her eyebrows piqued. "Is that what your pastor preaches - men needing to know their place?"

"Yes, she does."

"She?"

"Yes. The pastor is a she. Does that surprise you?"

"Well yes! That's not Biblical."

"Oh Sharon," she said dumbfounded at her stupidity. "And I guess you believe God is a man too. Don't you?"

"Well yea."

"Where does it say that? I'll tell you where it says that. Nowhere."

"Well..."

"Well nothing," she interrupted. "Why do you believe in something that isn't even written down?"

"I don't," she said defensively.

"Of course you do. You just as much told me you did."

"And my guess is you believe that women should serve men."

Sharon looked intently at the older woman. "It's written in the Bible." She said almost in a whisper.

"Have you ever given any thought to the context of when that stuff was written or if their might have been some bias when a group of men decided on the exact wording of the original manuscripts?"

"No. Why should I?"

"Because the world was a different place back then. Men lived and died by the sword. The Bible was written at a time when things were so barbaric. That's why women had to submit. They had no other choice. A single woman would be killed, raped or sold into slavery. He had to find a man just to stay alive and if she ever dared to assert herself she'd likely be killed or made an example."

"And that is supposed to make a difference?"

"Do you believe God wants to subject women to some type of second rate life?"

"I don't know."

"Oh come on. You are a college graduate aren't you?"

"A Master's from Vanderbilt," she said proudly.

"Then for god's sake think."

"I believe what the Bible says is how we should live."

"Because men know how to best treat women?" she asked acrimoniously.

"Yes. Because when men rule as head of the home, they please God."

"You are a fool."

Sharon could feel her blood beginning to boil and her stomach was becoming more irritable by the minute, which wasn't making this conversation any more enjoyable. Of course she was right. She and Jonathan had talked about this very subject at length - even studied it together. He felt completely comfortable making the decisions on their behalf and why not. It was how he was raised; how his father lived, and how his mother lived under his dad's authority. He was God's representative in their soon to be marriage. She would put her trust in him because he sought out God's direction. It was one of the things she loved most about him. It was how she was raised by her parents and how he was brought up too. What right did this woman have to challenge one of the very tenants of her faith? No right; none at all. Dam her for doing so!

"Ms. K, you are so wrong about this," she said firmly. "I don't know how your husband feels about this but obviously you two must disagree on this matter."

"I don't have a husband." She said stiffly.

"Oh," she said astonished. "I assumed you were. Well then that explains it. If you were married I think you'd have a different perspective."

Mariko smirked. "You do, do you?"

"Yes, I do."

She looked at her watch. "It's been good talking with you Ms. Ashby. Maybe we can continue this discussion at another time."

Sharon only nodded. She had no intention of talking further with her. There was nothing to be gained other than being frustrated with her values being challenged unnecessarily.

Before Ms. K stood she handed Sharon a business card. "I lead a women's group. We meet every Thursday night in the basement of our church. Over a hundred women come regularly. We talk about women's issues and how to properly run a home. I believe all of the women either are, or were married to men like Jonathan. You should come. I think you might find the meetings interesting and the women's stories even more so."

Sharon took the card, read the name of the church, 'The First Feminist Congregation.' Rolling her eyes she stuffed the card deep into a side pouch she rarely used. "Thank you. I'll think about it."

"Will you?"

"Maybe."

"I hope you do. Like Bobby said, walking into a bar isn't going to condemn you to hell. Neither will a visit to a church that is run by a woman."

The dig stung but she wasn't even certain Ms. K intentionally tried to get a rise out of her or just stating the obvious. She was right about the risks of attending the women's group, but then again, why should she even consider? She was perfectly content with how things were between her and her man and she knew he would never approve of her attending such a meeting. Sharon slid out of her side of the booth, and together they walked the four city blocks back to work.

When they entered the school Sharon said, "I need to visit the bathroom. I don't feel so well."

"Use the staff bathroom in the office area. It's clean and private. Do you need some more antacids?"

"No. I think I need to throw up."

"If you don't feel well, just take the rest of the day off."

"I might just do that."

"If you see Mr. Lewis, tell him to make sure he sees be before he heads home," Mariko added.

"I'll text him now," Sharon said. "I might take you up on your offer and get out of here early."

Sharon headed to the restroom and Ms. K to her office. Twenty minutes later Sharon left work. She had voided from both ends and although she felt much better she didn't want to chance a recurrence.

.............

She grabbed him by what hair he had, yanked his head back into position and pressed her pussy firmly against his face. His tongue lapped against her soft flesh. It sent wonder feelings rocketing through her body, but his technique still needed work; lots of work. Every so often he'd let his front teeth rake across her clit sending a shot of pain deep into her sex.

"What the hell is wrong with you?"

He answered "What am I ..."

He never finished asking the question. She slapped him hard across the face; the force of her blow bringing tears to his eyes.

"You know better than that. You never speak. You should know this by now. Your job is to lick. That's it. Nothing more."

She looked down at the 40ish year old man and wondered why in the world she was doing this. His hair was thinning, he had a soft paunch about his middle and handsome was not a word that even came anywhere close to describing him. But he was a project and this was for the greater cause. Besides, others deeply appreciated the time she spent with him but this one was troublesome. It had taken her months of training and he was just now starting to get it. Just when she thought he was learning, he'd do something stupid like this. It wasn't the teeth that were so much of concern but rather the remark. She could correct technique. That was the easy part; the enjoyable part for her and usually pretty easy to teach. It was the attitude she hated. Nothing irritated her more than a man not knowing his place. Like she said, his job was to act, not think.

"Look," she said for the tenth time, "keep your upper lip over your teeth. Don't ever let it move away from them. It hurts when I grind on your mouth and hit a tooth. It ruins all of the pleasure you worked so hard to give me. It makes me not want to make you eat me. Is that the message you want to convey?"

He shook his head.

"Good because that's not what I want either. I know your mouth is getting tired but do you think you can do it right this time?"

He nodded in the affirmative.

"Good because if you do this again, I'm going to beat the shit out of you."

Pushing his head back down against the floor she knelt over him and lowered her sex to his waiting mouth. She let him work and like before his licking began to arouse her. He was good when he put his mind to it but it was being consistent with his ministrations that still suffered. Her pelvic motions became more pronounced, more purposeful as her pleasure increased. This felt nice. This felt real nice. She moved again, first bobbing up and down and then rocking her hips slowly over his protruding tongue. Her juices flowed. He kept his composure and this time when she began to move more erotically, using him as he was meant to be used, he kept his dam teeth covered. She looked down. She loved seeing a man between her legs, even if he wasn't one she'd take home for good. The thought of her using him made her feel wonderful and that feeling was indeed addictive. It's what made doing this nearly every day worthwhile. She smiled but he never saw it. The blindfold covering his eyes had been there for over an hour and would be there for at least another. He had no idea who she was or what she looked like and he never would. He was just a man being remade into a new man - into a better man.

"Oh yesss," she cried out in delight as her body seized. Every muscle contracted as the pleasurable tsunami came crashing in the form of an orgasm. After she came she slowly pulled her cunt away from his face and eventually stood. Securing his cuffed hands to a nearby eyebolt with a padlock she left the room. Ten minutes later she reappeared having showered and dressed.

"Take care Larry. Don't forget what you learned today."

Larry knew better than to respond. He had felt her wrath too many times in the past. He was learning even though the process had been painfully slow. It had taken several months; several painful months but he had come so far. He laid waiting, his arms stretched overhead. Sometimes he waited only a few minutes; at other times the wait lasted hours. It was all a part of the process of the remolding, as he heard it termed. And it worked. At least it worked on him. The cold of the concrete chilled his body. Not only was it unyielding but it sucked the heat from his core. Within an hour his hands and feet grew cold; within three he could not stop shivering; after five, well, he hoped he wouldn't have to endure that again. He hoped someone would come before too long - before the cold really penetrated. He hated feeling so helpless yet he knew there was no one to help him other than the one who would eventually come.

Once he had called for help. It was a mistake he'd never repeat. He only yelled twice before he was soaked with freezing water. He thought he was alone. He thought no one was there and maybe she had gone but someone was there waiting patiently to see how he'd respond; how he'd react; how he'd handle himself when the wait superseded his own expectations. He had been told from the beginning that he was to remain quiet and do whatever any female voice instructed. After every lesson the comment from the woman was the same. "Lay still. Don't move. Don't speak a word." On that day he chose to disobey and the penalty was to be anchored to the eyebolt even longer while his sopping wet body shivered convulsively for several hours.

On this day and after what seemed to be hours, a presence entered, secured a leash to the steel collar he wore and led his naked body out into the cold night air. She pushed him into the hold of a car. He heard the door slam and once more he lay in silence. Thirty minutes later the trunk opened and he was led into a garage where he was once more secured to an eyebolt. No words were ever spoken between him and his transporter.

There was nothing pleasant about the entire ordeal and yet, there was something completely pleasant about it all. And that is what Larry couldn't figure. As much as his world had flipped upside down in recent months, there was a peace that had started to permeate his mind that had never been there before; not even when he had complete control of everything and everyone around him. He waited once more, this time hoping it would be for his wife. Hopefully she would come before too long.