Sunday, February 4, 2024

DEBRA’S SON: MATRIARCHAL MARRIAGE, Part 3 - OUR GYNARCHIC WEDDING

(Note from Thomas Lavalle: This post first appeared in 2017 in an earlier incarnation of this blog. In republishing it, I have left the age and date references as they were. Perhaps we'll have an update from Debra's Son before too long.)

Post begins:

As explained in the previous post, Shayna arranged for us to be legally married in a quick perfunctory civil ceremony attended by her parents and a few vanilla friends. What we consider our real wedding occurred later that day, attended only by my matriarchal family and a few of Shayna’s radical feminist friends. Shayna put it together, showcasing her unique combination of humor and dominance that I had fallen so completely in love with.

Shayna wore a dark red satin blouse displaying her gorgeous cleavage, a tight black leather miniskirt, sheer nude hose and dark red, peep-toe, four-inch pumps. She dressed me in a regular man’s suit, but all white to symbolize my virginity. (Yes, it’s true; see the earlier postings.) Days before the wedding I had begged her not to announce the reason for the color in public.

She said, “Throughout time men have expected women to value virginity, so, sauce for the goose, Dave. Besides, our guest list is so small and select that everyone knows or suspects anyway.”

End of discussion.

The Priestess at our wedding was Madison’s friend Angela, a solitary witch (i.e., not a member of a coven). She wore a long, red, wraparound dress. Shayna and I stood at the altar.

Angela read the lines below. Shayna and Angela wrote the vows, but most of the passages were selected and edited by my fiancée from English translations of the ancient Hindu text known as the The Laws of Manu. The twist was that anywhere words denoting males (husband, son, etc.) appeared, Shayna switched them with corresponding female pronouns:

“A boy, a young man, or even an old man should not do anything independently, even in his own house. In childhood a man should be under his mother’s control, in youth under his wife’s, and when his wife is dead, under his daughters’. A man should try not to separate himself from his mother, his wife, or his daughters, for his separation from them would make both families (his own and his wife’s) contemptible. He should always be cheerful and clever at his business; he should keep his household utensils polished and not have too free a hand in spending...

“A virtuous husband should be always faithful and constantly serve his wife like a goddess, even if she freely indulges her lust. A woman’s womb is her fertile soil and the seed comes from men. She owns her soil as a farmer owns land; she alone chooses the source of her seed regardless of her marital state. A virtuous husband will cherish the fruit of her womb no matter the source...

 

“Men, through their passion for women, their mutable temper, their natural heartlessness, they become destroyers, however carefully they may be guarded. But those men who of their own accord keep guard over themselves are well guarded. Be well guarded, then, David.”

I smiled sheepishly and nodded. There were lots of giggles and snickers from the guests.

“David, I understand that you come to Shayna a virgin, that you have never known a woman. Is this true?”

“Yes, Priestess.” (I felt my face redden and I could have crawled in  a hole.)

“Very Good. Congratulations, Shayna.”

[Hoots and giggles, mostly from Shayna’s friends.]

 

“Shayna, do you affirm that David is the man you have chosen for your lifelong helpmeet, to be your husband, that is, house-band, bound to your household in accordance with gynarchic principles, as you view them?”

“Yes, Priestess,” Shayna said.

The vows were next.

“David, do you promise to love, honor, cherish and OBEY [more giggles from the guests] Shayna, to live in her household, completely according to her rule, as she sees fit, for as long as you both shall live?”

 

“I do.”

“Shayna, do you promise to love, honor, and cherish David, always keeping him as part of your household, ruling him as you see fit—well, I don’t mean you can leave the boy with any long-term injuries—[laughter from the guests] for as long as you both shall live?”

“I do.”

Angela said, “David, do you have the key?”

“Yes, Priestess.”

“Make your pledge.”

“With this key I give myself to you, Shayna, body, heart, mind, and spirit, forever.”


The key was my chastity key on a chain, and Shayna put the chain around her neck, letting the key dangle in her cleavage.

“With the power vested in me by the Goddess, I now pronounce you Woman and husband. Shayna, you may kiss the groom.”

As Shayna kissed me, I never felt more submissive and owned by a woman in my life. The kiss was long and got more passionate as the guests laughed and applauded. We ended up soul kissing, and I surrendered to her tongue as she silently let me know that I belonged to her, absolutely, forever.


We kept kissing, and finally the Priestess stepped down from the altar. As she walked past us she slapped me on the backside and said, “Good luck, David, you’re gonna need it.” Shayna, without completely breaking our kiss, giggled and said, “Shut up, Angie.”

Though we hadn’t planned a reception, people hung around for awhile. Mom was cordial though reserved. I knew this ceremony hadn’t been solemn enough for her in terms of Goddess-worship, but I wasn’t going to defend Shayna’s decisions. We were beyond that now.

Shayna and I left as everyone wished us well. I felt great, but I was worried about that night. I was a 41-year-old man who was going to have sex for the first time. I always knew I was hetero, and had a high libido, but I had never touched a woman in a sexual manner. I was really afraid of not being able to maintain an erection. You would think it would be the opposite, that I’d be raring to go, but I had a bad feeling.

My fears weren’t unfounded. Shayna unlocked my chastity belt and started stroking me, but before we got very far I kept losing my erection over and over. I tried to explain things to her. She said she understood, but I believe deep down she was thinking, “This just proves my theory. I should have left well enough alone and made him keep his virginity. This won’t do either of us any good.”

 

I told her I thought it’d help if I gave her a massage. I started rubbing her beautiful feet and moved up to her toned legs, her gorgeous ass (“birthing hips” I thought at that moment, for no reason at all), her narrow waist and up her back. I had her turn over, and she looked so beautiful I stopped massaging and just started kissing her face and going down her neck. I stuck my nose in her cleavage and inhaled her scent. I spent a long time sucking her breasts and, as I did, I felt myself get really hard, and I let my erection throb against her leg.

I moved down to her midriff, and kissed all around her belly button for awhile. Then I went to her pussy, and had my first taste of ambrosia. Finally I felt relaxed enough to try entering her. I did, and she felt so great, like liquid velvet.

I could scarcely believe it. This is what I’d fantasized about for so long. Pure ecstasy. I couldn’t possibly hold back. In less than twenty seconds, I squirted what felt like a gallon. I was so happy I didn’t lose my erection that I said, “Oh, god, Shayna, that was so good, I’m pretty sure I’ll be able to go again in no time, and I promise it’ll be longer.”

 

She said, “No.”

“What?” I replied, surprised.

“No.” Her tone was serious and resolute. “We’ve consummated our marriage. I kept my promise. That’s it for a long, long time.”

I didn’t say anything.

After a minute or so, she said, “Don’t look so mopy. You had to know I meant what I said.”

Pathetic as it might sound, I begged, “Please Shayna, let me clean you at least.”

She didn’t say a word and kept staring at the ceiling, but she spread her legs slightly. I took a chance that she meant yes, and started licking her thighs and pussy clean.

I couldn’t complain. She had made it clear before we married that I didn’t excite her in “that way,” and she was not going to be one of those women who had sex all the time out of duty. Intercourse with her was extremely rare after that night (my birthday and our anniversary, and they’re only two months apart!).

She does allow me to perform cunnilingus if I really beg for it. I just have to be intuitive and make sure I don’t pester her often. Occasionally she likes being begged, but usually she’s annoyed and I get nowhere.

One time I kept begging to lick her pussy and she said, “No, but you can lick my ass.”

That was okay—more than okay! I loved it! Diving deep between the cheeks of her heart-shaped ass and tonguing her rosebud were sheer heaven for me. 

As for enforced chastity, it’s still difficult, but I’ve learned to live with it. I have to take a break from even the specially made device sometimes, but I’ve learned to control myself (usually) when not wearing it. Shayna allows me two orgasms by masturbation a month to “clean the pipes.”

After the honeymoon I sold my house and moved into hers. She didn’t want to leave the area or her job, and I was pretty sure I could set up an accounting practice there. It was a slow start, but I’ve built up a good home business in this area and it’s still growing. I was able to pay off her mortgage and began having the house repaired and remodeled as she desired.

We’ve been married five years now. Shayna is 30 and I’m 46. We enjoy time together, we’ve remained affectionate, and our bond grows stronger as the years pass. Life has gone on mostly as before, but there have been two wonderful surprises in our lives. Shayna gave birth to a boy in 2013, and we found out she’s going to have a girl this coming April of 2017.

We’ll be raising our kids in a matriarchal, or as my wife prefers to say, a gynarchic home. I feel so much more sure of myself now because I’ve done it before. The difference is I’m raising a son, but my dad helped raise me in a matriarchal home, and I have those experiences to draw on. I’m still close to my parents, and my mom is gracious and accepting of my choices. I’ll always love and honor her for that. I’m happy, healthy, and so is my ruling wife and our growing family. Despite what anyone might think, I feel incredibly blessed to be right where I am.

 *

3 comments:

  1. Thank you Thomas for republishing this. Shayna's story was my favourite from your previous blog and I hope we could learn more about how things were going in last 5-6. Time for part 4 :)

    Greetings from Istanbul,

    ReplyDelete
  2. My favorite was Lady Susan's post. I think she was Nancy's mother. She was very strict about male behavior. Her view resonates my mistress's female supremacist view. I'd like to read more about her view. She is very inspiring.

    KS

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. When will you write your story down here? @KS

      Delete

DEBRA’S SON: ‘PATRES FILIAE OBEDIUNT’ *

  (Editor’s Note: Debra’s Son has posted more than a few fond reminiscences on this blog about the advantages of growing up in a matriarchal...