Mbutu had done his research early for the evening. At 8:00pm, eight of the housewives would be in the midst of a book club discussion. They wouldn’t be so willing to give into the taboo, and the only thing that would trigger the needed chemical reaction to make them ovulate would be endorphins created by fear and extreme stimulus. It was decided: these housewives would have to be forced to breed, rather than them doing it willingly. Eight volunteers joined Mbutu, and they left the compound.It was 8:00 pm on the dot. As Mbutu predicted, the women were discussing an erotic novel they had read. Eight women, ranging in ages from 52 to 60, gabbing on about the plot twists and the love scenes in the novel. Outside the kitchen entrance, one of the volunteers cut the power to the house, the darkness enabling them to break in without being identified. The wives assumed it was a power outage, and one of them approached the kitchen to check out the entrance. As soon as she opened the. Hours after they left, I peed on the table. My muscles cramped, my back ached. I would have done anything to get off the table. When they finally came in, the room stunk, and I was in pain. I was so tired that everything seemed otherworldly. --God it stinks in here. Slave, why did you make a mess?—I didn’t answer fast enough. He slapped the belt across my stomach.“I’m sorry sir. I’m sorry. I couldn’t hold it in. I’m sorry.” I started crying again.He hit me again. –What did I say about crying?—I stopped right away. --ok I’m going to undo these and let you sit up. Your not going to cause any problems are you?—“No sir.”He untied the rope, and I sat up immediately. I rubbed my wrists where the rope had been. I was so disoriented that I nearly fell off the table. --Im going to let you get off the table and I want you to shower. When your done, if your good, I will bring you clothes and some food. You will be good won’t you?—“Yes sir.”He opened the door, and from what I could see it looked.
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