Midnight - Segment VI

Introduction to Gukuna Imishino

“We’re not doing anything she would not encounter in Rwanda,” mother lectures.

Midnight kneels, yoke secured at the table top forcing her forehead to the surface, mandating a most ungainly... and revealing... pose. Back arched, bottom high, knees forced apart, the young girl in training spreads to display all.

I am overwhelmed. Inexperienced with girls, I am now not only introduced to one in complete deshabille, but forcibly spread wide open to exhibit all parts feminine.

It is now my responsibility to offer care for such. Midnight will never have hands free for basic ablutions... and other feminine needs. Thus mother offers lessons in anatomy. The first lesson, assisting with urination.

“In stretching the lips, fulfilling bathroom needs can be sloppy. You’ll assist. You see this little nub of flesh here, below that flap of skin? That is her clitoris. Very sensitive and to be avoided. Given the opportunity a naughty girl would play here. That’s why she’s kept in bondage. Her energy is to be expended in servitude not in pleasuring herself. But just above, toward her anus, is an opening... her urethral opening. That is where she empties her bladder. So watch how we must help.”

The thumb and index finger of mother’s left hand further part the puffy semi stretched labia. The right hand grasps a beaker and positions it under the referenced opening.

“Come now Midnight. I know you must go,” mother proclaims as she makes sibilant sounds.

Naked, bound, kneeling splayed wide open, I note a degree of trembling, the humiliation intense. I also detect a certain ooze, vaginal fluid. Though intensely demeaning, Midnight is stimulated, her cunny betraying her deep inner reaction.

Mother continues hissing and final Midnight somehow summons a flow. Then mother commands her to stop and hands me the beaker.

“It’s you turn, Oliver. You’ll supervise every morning, once in the afternoon and once in the evening. I suggest you make her beg for your attention. And be sure to report any mishaps... if she relieves herself on her own. That will earn her a good caning.”

Fingers clumsy, hands trembling, I replicate. A now eager Midnight, bladder in dire need of completing the urgent relief, obediently opens herself and consummates the deed.

It is an amazing scene of subjugation. We are the same age, Midnight and me, and I am suddenly in charge of a most intimate female function... and there is more.

Bladder empty, the anatomy lesson continues. At a very early age I learn every fold and flap, every segment of feminine pinkness. Mother explains gukuna imishino, the curious age old Rwandan custom still practiced. The belief that stretched labia are sexually attractive and adds to sensitivity. She explains the clitoris, that which in the womb develops into the penis of male infants. Mother knows this observation will serve to imbue on me a semblance of female joy... that as much as I attain pleasure from my penis tip, a girl can similarly achieve... given free hands and nimble fingers.

“This flap, in time I’ll have it removed,” mother referring to the clitoral hood. “It veils her little bud, that which offers the ecstasy which we will sparsely ration. I want it better exposed... perhaps ringed as well so she knows it is there... and not for her to touch. Now let me show you the lotion and we’ll begin.”

Mother reaches for a jar. Slick, the fragrance tropical, reputably from Africa, it is an unguent used in the stretching process, assuring moisture, reportedly increasing sensitivity, and for sure spurring even more arousal.

“Coat you fingers liberally, smooth it about both lips, pull gingerly. Treat the labia as you would a cow’s udder. Constant pulling. You’ll need to do this for an hour every day. In time we’ll weight her as well, but to do that initially there needs to be more length.”

Mother begins and demonstrates, working her hands and fingers as described. I notice that the flow of wetness not only continues but increases. Midnight moans. Her vagina secretes with abundance. Mother observes my curious look.

“Certain girls get very wet, Oliver. It’s natural. And when you want to treat her, she may even squirt for you. But that lesson is for another day.”

“Now coat your hands and get to work...”