by Tiana Laveen
“She gave us our first experience with nurturing through her singing and stroking her stomach when we kicked—that was our first conversation with another human being. The womb became our first teacher. Every answer we need still comes from the womb, gentlemen. Wombs belong to the female of any and all mammals. Feminine energy is the electricity of the world. It sheds light on the issues of the universe so that we can navigate this thing we call life a little more easily. But we’re blind, gentlemen. Even with all of that influence and luminosity she carries, all of that life shaping and growth, we are blind, because all we see is our female counterpart as an inferior. That is the first step to the disruption of balance. To be unable to identify your friend from foe, to cherish the ones who love you and protect them, you’ve disturbed the natural laws of the universe. You’ve disturbed balance. This is due to a faulty patriarchy that is steeped in fear, rather than an investment in nation-building.
“Real kings don’t fear the power of the womb, they embrace it. We may think we’re progressive. Hell, most of you are convinced of it. You think, ‘But Saint, I love Black women, that’s why I’m here. You must be wrong because I don’t see women as inferior, Dr. Aknaten.’ But your actions show something else, my friend. Let me give you an example. Whenever a woman cries rape from some NFL star, comedian or politician what do many of us think as soon as it hits the news? We say what?”
“She’s lying!” someone called out.
“That’s right!” Saint pointed out into the audience. “We suspect her. We don’t immediately think the guy is a scumbag and guilty, no, ’cause he’s a man, right? And us guys gotta stick together, even when we’re dead wrong.” He grabbed the glass from the podium and took a long swig of the liquor.
Definitely Crown Royal.
“She’s just trying to get attention or get a payday, a come up, right? Why didn’t she say something sooner? Why was she dressed that way? We never question what he may have done or said to influence her silence. No. We judge her appearance, too. If we find her attractive, we figure she’s someone that’s been passed around. A whore. We think, well hell, shakedowns are what she does, right?” He smirked as he walked away from the podium and took command of the stage. “She sucks random cock to get diamond rocks. If, on the other hand, she’s what we deem unattractive, we say, ‘She’s lyin’! No football player would want her. He can have any woman he wants, right? That bitch is ugly! That man wouldn’t touch her with his worst enemy’s dick, let alone his own!’” A few chuckles rolled through the audience. “As if women who aren’t models don’t get sexually assaulted … as if we don’t have mothers, sisters, aunts, cousins and daughters, too. And yet, that is what we do, fellas … that is what we do. Inferiority … Disrespecting the womb … fucking up the balance.”
He drew serious then, scanned the crowd with a somber gaze.
“When a car is all over the road because of a bad driver, what do we think? Must be a female driver. Despite the fact statistics show that women get into fewer car accidents than we do, we still hold firm to these ideas. The list goes on and on. We benefit from this system as men, so to expect us to change it is foolhardy and unrealistic.” He grimaced and shrugged. “As men, we have to feel on top. It’s our nature. Doesn’t matter if you’re alpha or beta, you want to feel in control of something. We look to our women to help achieve that. And if they don’t bow down willingly, then we’ll break them down.” He balled his hand in a tight fist. “See, but we’re wrong to think that she can’t fit the bill, gentlemen. Our female counterpart may not be as physically strong as us on average and she may be more emotional, but that does not make her weaker, gentlemen.
“What this makes her is a damn good mate. When we keep beating up on our women with not just our fists but our words, this destroys the balance, kills their femininity. People change due to difficulties in their environment. Let me repeat that so you bastards understand me loud and clear. People. Change. Due. To. Difficulties. In. Their. Environment. If someone is born a certain way, and they change, it is in direct response to something. You got men out here all upset about the feminist movement. Let me tell you somethin’, mothafuckas.” He paused and glared out into the crowd. “Wouldn’t be no fucking American feminist movement without oppression from weak minded men. That entire movement was birthed in direct response to a condition that women, particularly White women, were experiencing in this country. Now, many Black women have adopted these ideas and you know why? Because we stripped the Black Queen of her rightful role and she became hardened and angry! She is responding to the bullshit we dumped on her, for her very survival!
“Since Black women still date Black men as a majority, I am speaking specifically about Black men when I say that their response to this situation they created is, ‘Black women aren’t feminine enough! They’re tryna act White! They’re doing all of these things, right? But why in the fuck did it happen in the first place?” He tossed up his hands. “Why aren’t we as men looking at how we continuously disrupt balance and create a situation in which extremism is born? We want all of the solutions, but haven’t put in the work to ask the right questions. I am not saying feminism is extremism, but there are some factions of it that are and they are the ones that seem to receive the most notoriety. There are many kinds of feminism though, brothas, and it would do you some good to look it up when you get some time, because this plays a part in the mentality you may encounter with your mate. Look, there is a plot out here to destroy femininity. To position it as being a weakness, something that needs to be hidden away, or better yet, forgotten, and that is coming from both sides.” He placed his hand against his heart. “Now, when I speak of femininity, I am speaking about the essence of a woman. Her curves, her smile, her divination. The tone of her voice, the way she moves, the way she touches me, responds to me. And we want it … we want her damn womb. It’s the most powerful thing on this planet. Our sins as kings are numerous, but we blatantly disrespect the female womb on a daily basis.
“We do so by making it difficult for women to make an equal wage to support their children. We do so by being intimidated by a woman with a college degree if we do not possess the same. We want her at a lower level than us, only there to support our agenda, the hell with what she wants! Some of us don’t even know what our mates like to do outside of us! Maybe we don’t even give a shit. We can’t name three things she enjoys that do not coincide with our own lives! When you are insecure, fellas, you feel the need to downgrade, dominate, entrap, and have a person completely dependent on you. It scares you that she could live without you, especially if she truly knew the power she possessed.
“Her womb, whether she is five years old or one hundred, rules this world. It’s the energy, fellas. It’s her God given energy and we can’t take it away, no matter how we try. We can’t duplicate it, either. It’s something we do not possess. We’ve tried to take the reins in many ways. We try to control her birth control, though we are the ones impregnating her. We do this by messing with her health insurance, telling her what she can and cannot have as far as contraception is concerned. This is not a discussion about the ills of healthcare, pharma or the big business of health insurance, though. It’s about how we are systematically destroying the womb. Everything we want, we destroy. We have a history of that, gentlemen. Sins of the king…” He paused, took a moment so the audience could digest everything he’d said. The whole room was so quiet, he could hear his own breathing. He could feel his influence through his words spreading amongst them, humbling them, opening eyes that had been closed for so long.
“Kings used to be warriors. They didn’t draft dodge, they didn’t run from a fight. They ran into the fire. That is how they earned the title of leader, because they were fearless. They didn’t trump their own responsibilities and send other peoples’ children to the front line while they played golf in Florida.” Applause erupted. “No, no, no. A king, a real leader, stood in front of the army that he trained, with his weapon ready for battle
. His sword used to behead and his dick to populate the land with his Queen and make strong soldiers just like himself. And he knew not to destroy that Queen, he knew to protect her because her womb held the key to his name, his future generations. If he had to die trying to keep the enemy away from her, he did so, and then, he didn’t die in vain. He had honor.
“When you are up against an enemy, whether it’s racism, hatred, inequality, relationship misunderstandings or what have you, you need to find out its origins. Can you identify it? You need to know its name.” He made his way back to the podium and took a sip of his drink. “Once you know its name, you have to study it, look at it from various angles. Because every single thing in this world, my brothas, has a weakness. Once dealing with an enemy, it’s your job to find it and exploit it. Now, some of you are probably thinking, ‘Is this a military speech? When is Saint going to get to the pussy eatin’ techniques?’” At this, bursts of laughter emerged. He smiled and nodded as he leaned into the podium and looked out into the audience.
“Just stick with me, it’s coming … and she’ll be too, in more ways than one.” The laughter was earsplitting. “Think of the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen, fellas.” He looked up at the ceiling and waved his hand in the air as he donned a huge grin. Xenia’s face immediately entered his mind. “Just imagine her sitting in front of you. She’s looking up at you, right? Her skin is like smooth chocolate, perhaps like a caramel sundae or a rich mahogany that beckons your touch. The most precious thing she can give you, besides her time, is her womb. Anything that threatens that is your enemy…
“I’m not talking about just procreation. I am talking about her femininity, her aura. It heals. A woman who is infertile can heal you, because that isn’t what makes her a woman with special feminine powers. It is the atoms, the DNA, the chemicals and hormones that make her everything you need and want. Everything has a cycle. Let’s think about that for a minute.” He held up one finger. “Seasons have a cycle, the earth has a cycle, women have a cycle. What does a cycle mean?”
“Her period!” someone yelled.
“Yes, menstruation. Our woman is acting irritable; what do we say? ‘Baby, uh, is it that time of the month? You need an attitude adjustment.’” He smirked. “We want to know if she is cycling, is she revolving around herself?” He moved his finger in a cylinder type motion as he drew serious once again. “Is she bleeding? Because if she is, she is making a sacrifice, right then and there, gentlemen. To shed blood is to either be injured or in the act of sacrifice. Women of childbearing years naturally sacrifice every 28 days, give or take a few days for each individual case. Two plus eight equals ten. In numerology, that is a one. That one signals completion.” He stood still for a moment, staring out into the quiet audience. “We are mathematics. That Black woman is the beginning, the middle, and the end of every equation. She is the question and the answer. Through her, we find the answers to our issues. Her womb leads the way. We must follow the blood, we must follow the sacrifice of her womb. See where this is going now?”
He smiled as he witnessed many heads nodding.
“In laymen’s terms, brothas, we must drink from her well and respect her motherfuckin’ authority. And do you know why? Because the way to get a woman to submit to you is to first show her how it is done!”
The crowd roared, bringing the place down.
“When you have to use force, threats and violence to get your way, it’s already too late! You will have to spend the rest of your miserable life keeping her in check! When you do it the right way the first time, you don’t have to worry about her doing what you need her to do, because she shares the power, too! Women buck up when you fuck up! She is a natural nurturer, and only when you disrupt the balance do you face opposition. If she is in her power, she will respect yours, and there will be no power struggle! You are the head of that castle; she is by your goddamn side. She isn’t in the front—that would make you a toadstool! She isn’t in the back—that would make her your child and it would signify that you are too fuckin’ insecure to allow her in her rightful place.” He punched his rib, and the audience came alive.
“What the fuck are you afraid of? Whether you are an alpha or a beta, know your role and do it well! Now.” He paced back and forth along the stage, only stopping on occasion to glance down at his wedding band. “Once you know your place and she knows hers, you must maintain that with what you say, and what you do.
“If you don’t, an enemy will infiltrate. This could come in the form of an affair, gossip about you fooling around, jealousy, financial issues that lead to trust issues, and the list goes on. Your woman is the stock market, and you must take a risk, keep her current and invest in her. When was the last time you took a long, hard look at your portfolio, huh? What you do to her mind, her heart, and her body is your ticket to maintaining a balance, to keeping the cycles in your home going at just the right speed. Equilibrium is then achieved.” He moved his hands like scales.
“My latest book is called, ‘Climbing Walls, Hanging from Chandeliers’, and it deals with—” He was cut off by an eruption of applause. “I see many have read it.” He grinned. “It deals with specifics on how to keep your sex life with your Queen exciting. How to be dominant in bed and bring out of her what she truly wants. Sometimes a woman’s femininity will cause her to act shy when it comes to voicing her deepest desires. The same femininity we covet in her … but we need her to come into her power and use it to aid her, not hinder her. We help our Queen by being the man and leader she needs. Submission is not weakness, it’s strength. It doesn’t mean that she doesn’t get to voice her opinion. It doesn’t mean she doesn’t get angry with us. It doesn’t mean we are always right and she is always wrong. It doesn’t mean we talk down to her, act disrespectful toward her, and see her as inferior!”
He pounded the podium with his fist.
“That’s how I began tonight’s discussion, and now here we are, full circle. The enemy is inferior pretending to be superior. Anything that comes between you and your Queen, and what you two are trying to build, is the enemy!” He pointed out into the audience. “I don’t care if it’s your mother talking negative to you about your woman,” he said, counting off his fingers, “your best friend dissing her, your boss that has you travelling so much you only see your lady two weekends a damn a year, or that woman that keeps flirting with you and telling you that you deserve better when you know you got the mothafuckin’ best right at home! The enemy is going to spot you.” He jabbed a finger towards the audience. “They’ll find a hole, crawl inside, and exploit the shit out of your weaknesses.
“Will you fall prey to those sins, those temptations, those frailties, those weaknesses? Or will you rise up and grab your staff and crown, kiss that woman’s womb, and revel in all that she is and will become?” Many got to their feet and applauded. “The way you treat the Queen says exactly how you feel about her, as well as yourself.” He paused for a moment, giving it a second to sink in. “You don’t have the right to fuck her until you respect her. Now fellas, shit is about to get real … raw and uncut. Brotha to brotha, we are about to get into some mental pussy and keep it hummin’ and cummin’. I am going to explain to you how to fuck your woman better, and it starts with mental and emotional seduction. You must worship the womb with your mouth. Your mouth holds all the power. Do you know why? Because you don’t just use it to kiss her tits, her pussy, and every inch of her body; you use it to seduce her by arranging words, utterances, moans, sighs in just the right way so her pussy becomes a goddamn geyser.”
“Yeah!” someone yelled, causing a swell of chuckles.
“You know what?” Saint looked around the stage. “Hey.” He pointed to a man standing towards the back by the curtain. “Can you get me a stool that sits high or somethin’? I wanna just sit down here and talk man-to-man with my brothas as we get into this.” The crowd erupted in whistles and applause as Saint waited for a seat. The room grew darker, and the spotlight over him gre
w larger and brighter. “Thank you,” he stated when the stool arrived. With a wily smile, he looked out into the crowd. “Some of you are still standing, but I want you to relax for a minute, take a load off.” The sound of chairs scooting about echoed until the audience fell into a hushed spell.
“This isn’t pussy 101; it’s pussy for the seasoned King who needs to improve and learn new things. Strap up. It’s about to get wet…”
Xenia walked as fast as her feet would take her, making a mad dash to the guest room. It was 1:00 a.m., Saint was nowhere in sight, and she knew he probably would not get home until at least 4:00 a.m. if she was lucky. She was wide awake for the exciting news had gotten her in a frenzy.
“Mama!” Xenia whispered as loudly as she could without waking the children. She looked around the dark quarters, then repeated herself. No response. She rapped on the door.
“Whu? Who? Xenia?”
“Yes, it’s me, Mama! Wake up!”
“You better be on fuckin’ fire to be knockin’ on that damn door like you—”
“Mama, Ira is on the phone!” She heard her mother getting to her feet, and soon the guest room door swung open. There the woman stood, in a bright yellow pair of leggings and a matching oversized T-shirt. She looked like a big ball of sunshine. Her hair was full of old fashioned pink sponge curlers and the space smelled like lilac, onion rings, and hair spray.
“Ira is on tha phone?!”
“Yes, he can hear you right now. He’s on the speaker!” Xenia quickly stepped inside, turned the light on, and closed the door behind them. She handed Mama her phone and settled down in a comfy chair that sat across from the canopied queen bed. Mama’s smile lit up the place. She cradled the cellphone in both hands as if it were a bowl filled with precious holy water.
“Ira?” Mama whispered, sitting on the edge of her bed.
