Who Owns Your Life?

Professor Stuart L’Chiam, M.D., J.D., PhD., & M.T.S.D.* walked calmly to the podium. The venue at which he was giving his talk – he hated the word speech and never read from a prepared text, preferring index cards inscribed with the ideas he hoped to cover – was the World Women’s Day gathering in Boston, Massachusetts. He scanned the audience of 5,000 hostile Feminists and smiled.

            “Good Morning!” Professor L’Chiam began. Not a sound came from the throng. “I shall begin my talk with a question, to be followed by a series of questions,” he said in a jovial tone.

            “Do women have the right to say “no” to sex?”
            The hall erupted.  It appeared with that one line, the professor would empty out the venue and be left talking to the custodians, but it only seemed that way as 500 or so women ran for the exits screaming and gnashing their teeth and gesticulating wildly with their hands, their middle finger raised at him in the universal sign of debasement and rage.

            After the enraged shouts died down Professor L’Chiam continued, “Of course women have the right to say “no” to sex! That was a silly question and I asked it so that I might get the silly response I have come to expect from the type of people that attend a “Women’s Day” gathering, as well as to remove the more insidious lunatics and goofballs among you. Now that they are gone, let us continue! 

            “So, of course women have the right to say no to sex! The explanation given by Feminists as to WHY women have that right is profoundly and deeply flawed. Ask any Feminist if she can refuse sex, or dismember a life growing within her, and the response will invariably be that it is “my body, my choice”. And that is a very, very unfortunate choice of words, for the rights that you possess are not limited to your body. The rights that you have are yours because you own your life! There is an important fundamental difference between ‘my body, my choice’ and ‘my life, my choice’, though thus far Feminists seem to be incapable of grasping the difference, or what deluded essay the phrase was coined in. I hope to lend them a hand intellectually”.

            The crowd had been quiet but was now starting to buzz.

            “What else do women have the right to say no, or yes, to?”

            The room went quiet again.

            “Do you have the right to eat what you wish?”

            Professor L’Chiam took a pregnant pause to let the audience fret over their individual weight. It didn’t take long. One woman stood up in the crowd and shrieked at the professor, “I do not exist to have my body judged by creeps like you!”

            “Ah, thank you for that, madam. Not the insult, mind you. That was highly improper. Of course you own your life and your emotions, but your right to your emotions ends where my emotional wellbeing begins. No, I thank you for pointing out that you own your life and with that comes the right to eat, or not eat, what you wish and that the use of force, of any kind and by any means, to govern your diet is improper and immoral. That would include government determining soda size at the local fast food restaurant, but let’s not get off track. We were doing so well.

            “Do men have the right to say ‘no’ ”?

            “ ‘No’ ” to what you slimy asshole?” exploded another member of the crowd. “We don’t have an appendage that we wish to penetrate and dominate you with!”

            “Oh, very well… I shall restate. Do men own their lives, as women do? Or is it only women that own their lives?”

            The hall went silent. Professor L’Chiam let the silence sink in. He looked around the room for several minutes, signaling to each woman that met his eyes to answer the question. Not one of the women in the audience responded to his prodding.

            “Well, since no one here is willing to state the obvious, I shall. Yes, men do own their lives. Now that I have made the critical assertion, are there any in attendance that wish to challenge that?”

            The hall went silent.

            “Well then, it seems that we have established that all human beings own their lives, and by extension they own their bodies. Your body does not own your life. Your life owns your body! But what does it mean to own your life? Do you own the air needed to sustain life? Or can some outside force, say the State, insist that this resource must be paid for – or else?”

            The silence in the hall was deafening. Professor L’Chiam was well known for stripping the bark off of silly and ill-considered belief systems, so the best cause of action was to say nothing for with him everything you said would certainly be used against your position.

            “No one has an opinion on this? Well, then it is good that I have an opinion. For the sake of brevity I shall try to keep it simple. Every single person in this room is consuming oxygen through the air. You are not taxed for the air. Presumably, because we all need the air we breathe to live.

            “What about food? Isn’t food the equivalent of air?”

            More silence. The women in this hall came together to encourage each other’s grievances against men, not to discuss food and air.

            “Since we seem to agree that each and every human being owns his or her life and that right is absolute, and that life is sacrosanct, it then follows that each and every person owns the results or production of his or her life. You know, the idea of private property? After all, if one does NOT own the production, efforts, and results of our lives how can we possibly believe that we own our own life? If we do not have the right to our work then we do not own our lives. If we do not own our lives then we do not have rights – including the right to say “No” to anything. The ownership of our own life is an absolute. Either you have it or you do not have it. Does anyone here wish to dispute this assertion?”

            “Can you get to the point, professor?” said one of the event’s organizers, as the crowd was clearly not appreciating having their feet tacked to the base of their positions.

            “Oh, yes, yes. I am getting there. We seem to have agreed that we, humanity, must have air to breathe, food to eat, and that we own our lives. Breathing the air, the consumption of which we have not made any effort to pay for, is not subject to confiscation by others. We have the right to our next breath without interference. And yet we do not have the right to our next meal. We know this because if you were to work at growing food our society would countenance the seizing - by force - of a certain portion of that food as “taxes”.

            “What the hell are you talking about?”

            “Oh, I think I have been more than clear. Every person here is breathing away and freely consuming the oxygen in this room without interference from other individuals or groups of individuals, such as governments. And this is so even though the air is not something that is a result of the efforts of the life you own. Yet everyone here, well, except me, is quite comfortable with the theft of the production of the lives of people that we have already determined own their individual life, and that society may employ force agents to seize the production of our lives, such as food that people have grown, food that people need to live just as much as the air they breathe, that the people have produced with the life that they own.”

            “What??!! What about hungry people?”

            “Are hungry people more deserving of food that they did not produce than are aroused men of sex they did not negotiate for?”

            “Are you comparing the right to food with the right to have sex, professor?”

            “Sharp as a tack! Yes. I am suggesting that other lives, lives that do not own your life, have no more right to the food you grew in your garden or the furniture you built in your workshop or the music you composed in your home than they have to your body - because you own your life, and this ownership of life is an absolute.”

            “Now let’s move on to the human male erection,” Professor L’Chiam tried to sneak in for effect while the crowd roared its disapproval. The more emotional and unstable of the audience, and there were many, were streaming for the exits.

           

           

To be continued…

An Unauthorized Erection

An Unauthorized Erection

Herb and Maude sat in front of the Government issued “internet screen.” Well, everybody still used the term “internet” even though there were no longer independent and unauthorized servers. The Free Femdom party had dismantled that system more than a generation ago. People had long forgotten the pastime of surfing the web and using social media. No one would dare to mention the words “social media” as it was that medium that gave the Fems, as The Party was now known, unprecedented efficiency in destroying the other political parties as well as any nascent upstarts.

Things had settled down in the United States. Everyone still called the country that, the United States, even though the Fems had eliminated all state governments immediately after coming to power, except for Texas, Louisiana, and Oklahoma, the rebel states that had successfully seceded.

Herb caught his biometric bracelet on the recliner and dropped the remote control to the floor. While they had no choice about what channel they were going to watch, they still had control over the volume to some extent. While they could not turn the “internet screen” off – it was always on like some modern hearth around which people could gather - they could turn it down enough so that they would not have to yell. Herb groaned under the weight of his enormous bulk barely able to retrieve the remote but eventually doing so, his body exhausted from the effort. If people were overweight in the early part of the 21st century, they were nothing short of whoppers in the middle of the century. The Fems had encouraged people to eat and drink as much as they wished to end what was then known as “fat shaming.” The Founding Fems were all huge women and wanted everyone to know the joys that their ponderous bulk provided - so food production, such as it was, became a government command and control industry.

After catching his breath for 30 minutes from the strain of retrieving the remote Herb felt himself drifting off when an explosion rocked the front door, and four impossibly large and armed young women stampeded through the front door of their modest small house with their guns trained on Herb.

“Get on the floor, now!” shouted one intruder.

“Show me your hands, now!!” shrieked another.

Herb did his best to arise from the recliner enough to be able to lie on the floor as commanded, but he didn’t have the stamina. After all, he had just retrieved the remote from the floor! What did these women expect?

Two of the massive intruders were now upon him, one on each side. Together they counted, “1, 2, 3!” and each pulled on Herb’s upper arm to get him out of the chair. With some effort, they had Herb up, and before they could throw him to the floor, their commander barked an order to them.

            “Cuff him and leave him standing. How the hell are we going to get him up off the floor if we can’t get him out of a chair?”

Herb was still witless and in shock. Maude had collected herself and asked, from the comfort of her recliner, “What is going on? Why are you arresting my husband?!”

“Your husband is under arrest for violation of the Federal Penal Code. He has just had an unlawful and unauthorized erection!”

“What the hell are you talking about!” said Maude, near hysteria. An unauthorized erection was a capital offense. “We were each sitting in our recliners and watching the screen! He’s almost 30 years old! He hasn’t had an erection in years, and that’s if he ever had one!!!”

“Biometrics don’t lie ma’am. Increased blood flow to his penis was detected. Has he been taking his medication?”

“Of course, he has! Look at him! Does he look like he has any testosterone in his body? Examine his testicles! I am sure they are no bigger than almonds!”

“We are taking him into custody. Trained professionals will examine him.”

And with that, the four massive police officers helped poor Herb waddle the 30 steps to the police van. The police, like everybody else, no longer used cars. No one could get in or out of a car anymore.

Their family attorney, Gloria, had just met with the chief of police and now sat down next to Mauve at the police station. She came more as a friend than their attorney. Herb would need the services of an experienced criminal attorney. His very life hung in the balance.

“Maude. This is very serious," said Gloria as she reached for the donuts and Twinkies that were available in all public buildings. "Is there anything here that I should know?”

“What?” Maude said incredulously, as she too, helped herself to a donut. “Of course not! We were just sitting down to watch the screen. Herb had dropped the remote and had to retrieve it from the floor. The exertion of it all must have set off his bracelet.” Maude was referring to the wrist monitor that every citizen wore 24 hours a day. The government collected all of the data that the human body produced – breath, heart, blood pressure, hormone, sweat, secretions, and excretions. The government even monitored the amount of gas each citizen passed each day and analyzed the content.

“Well, I saw the data set that Herb’s bracelet sent in. There is no question about it. Herb was experiencing increased blood flow to his penis and a rise in serum testosterone.” Gloria paused and took a deep breath. “You were in incredible danger. You could have been raped or sodomized!”

“What the hell are you talking about Gloria? You have known both of us our whole lives. Does Herb look capable of producing an erection to you? Does he look like he has any testosterone to worry about?!”

What little the two women knew about erections was from their sex education classes in grade and high school. They knew that during the era just before they were born men would regularly penetrate women with their penises and that invariably this would lead to significant injury for women, unplanned children, and death during childbirth. The government had taken on the job of cloning and breeding children and since “all sex is rape” male children were chemically neutered, and adult men were required to maintain the ingestion of chemicals that would render them safe for women. While considering all of this each of the women consumed another donut.

Gloria thought about it for a minute. No, Herb certainly had all of the presentations of micro phallic status—a penis that never developed and was too soft and small to do any damage. He had no muscle mass, he was the shape of a pear, and he did not have any facial hair. He looked just like any other woman or man.

“Does Herb have any pubic or body hair?”

“Very little. Essentially none. There is nothing masculine or manly about Herb. He is as safe as a woman to be with. He has never approached me for sex—not even a kiss. I don’t think he has ever touched me except perhaps when we bump into each other in the hallway. The hallway is kind of small.”

“Ok. Good. Well, that testimony will sure help. Can you imagine living in a world where men constantly got erections? Where the passion so aroused them that they would want to penetrate a woman’s orifices? How did womankind survive such animals?”

“I am telling you that Herb is not like that. He doesn’t do anything. He is not interested in anything. All Herb wants to do is eat and watch the screen. He is the perfect gentleman. He has no ambitions. No desire to accumulate and use financial and other material resources to manipulate me or anyone else into having sex; and no interest in having children. In fact, he has no resources or interests of any kind and is content with what the government gives him. He is a perfect example of a non-aggressive male. Trust me; I have looked for the signs. But I would bet my life that Herb has never masturbated.”

“Oh, thank goodness,” said Gloria. “Here, have another donut. Ya know, before the Fems took over we had a man, a sitting president, in the White House no less, that was masturbating.”

“Oh, my! How do you know this?”

“I heard it from a judge I used to clerk for. Not only was he masturbating, but he wasn’t thinking about his wife! She caught him using pornography!”

“You are kidding me!”

“No. I am not kidding you! This really happened! Can you imagine? You give yourself to a man, and he still does that? Disgusting.” Gloria shook her head.

“Wow, that’s hard even to believe.”

“Can you believe that we tolerated that kind of disrespect? Well, keep in mind that before the government took over cloning and breeding, the very existence of mankind depended on erections and penetration. We did what we could to manage that nightmare, but it all became just too much. Once the Fems came to power and it became obvious that men could not control themselves, that there were not enough resources to provide for everyone, they did what they had to do. We have not been troubled by erections since.”

“Oh, thank goodness for that,” said Maude as she nodded in agreement.

Gloria nodded back, and the motion of their nodding and their combined weight of nearly 800 lbs caused the bench they were sitting on to protest by squeaking loudly. They stopped nodding.

“Yes. We cannot tolerate men that do not respect us.”

“I completely agree.”

“And we cannot go back to having to take care of children while dealing with a man and his erections.”

“Perish the thought.”

“I mean, think about it. What is the difference between saying something sexually disrespectful about a woman and thinking something sexually disrespectful?”

“Not a thing!”

“What could be more disrespectful to women by a man than for him to fantasize about them and experience sexual gratification—even from his hand—from them without the woman’s permission???!!”

“I can’t imagine! Did that sort of thing go on?”

“Are you kidding! Our mothers had to deal with men that got erections several times a week!”

“Thank goodness for the Fems.”

“Oh yes, thank goodness. Now we are perfectly respected. And we can eat as much as we want without shame.”