And for that matter, well…the girl did have to admit herself; somewhere deep within, that it was rather fun to be forced sometimes, wasn’t it? Oh, this wasn’t something a good girl would admit, of course. A modern woman, she had always been told, must be strong and capable, the equal to a man except perhaps in muscle. She must know her own mind and be assertive. The days of ladylike submission, it was asserted axiomatically, had ended two or three decades before the end of the last century, mercifully. This was no longer the Stone Age; she occasionally had heard feminists say dismissively—not even the Eisenhower age.
And yet… Well, now and then there could indeed be a deliciously kinky thrill in simply submitting, could there not? Perhaps a man might feel this way, too, sometimes, but Ra
