The Museum of Feminist Art
*Contains: >!mentions castration, public nudity!<*
“Alright, I think we’re good to go. Hello everyone, and welcome to this guided tour of the museum of classical and contemporary feminist art. My name is Amy and I will be your guide today. Now, before we begin, you all have been informed when you bought your admission tickets, but please remember that the museum is open only to adults, okay? We deal with some sensitive subject matter here.”
The group nodded. “Great, in that case let’s begin. We encourage all of our female visitors to make themselves as comfortable as possible, so ladies, please don’t feel like you need to hold back. In fact…”
Amy swung her long, aquamarine hair behind her shoulders and nestled with the knot of her top until it yielded. The fabric fell away, unable to restrain Amy’s teardrop-shaped breasts any longer. Her chest bounced free, jiggling enticingly, pert nipples pointing at the shocked visitors.
“… ah, much better. We encourage you to remove any constraints society puts on you and your bodies in here, such as bras. The museum of feminist art is a safe space for all women, free of bigotry and misogyny, so please, feel free to dress however you want.”
A few women in the group chose to follow Amy’s example, nervously giggling and blushing as they bared their breasts to a group of strangers, but most chose to remain clothed. Only one of them did so enthusiastically, a buff black woman that practically ripped off her yellow gypsy blouse with a laugh, shaking her impressive Afro as well as her tits.
“I see we have a returning visitor. It’s good to see you back, Jen, I hope you’ll enjoy the tour,” Amy said with a smile and a wink. “And on that note, I can see that we also have a few men in our group today. No need to be shy, gents, step forward. I am sure you are all well-behaved guys, but inappropriate behavior towards staff, visitors or exhibits will not be tolerated. With that out of the way, for women, the museum is an empowering experience, but for you dangl- ahem, for male visitors, it can be an enriching, educational experience if you approach it with an open mind.”
The four men, three of which were visiting the museum with their partners while one was by himself, nodded with their mouths agape, barely hearing what Amy said. All of them gawked at the juicy set of tits in front of them. One of them had even started drooling.
“You never know what you might gain thanks to this tour!” Amy said brightly and stuck her chest out some more. One of the men cried out and bent over. Amy saw his scowling wife draw her palm back from his groin. Some women in the group giggled, and Amy found it hard to resist joining. It was an impressive sack tap, especially given that the tour hadn’t even properly started yet. “… or what you might lose,” Amy muttered to herself while maintaining her professional smile. *Oh well, there should be plenty more chances for me to have some fun later.*
“Okay, follow me this way, please. We begin our tour in the Greek wing of the museum. You will notice that our exhibits are grouped not chronologically or by artist, but by loosely unifying themes. We encourage visitors to look for connections between pieces of different styles, mediums, periods and artists to form their own vision of femininity and masculinity, of the roles that society imposes on genders, and what strengths,” she made sure to look at the man who had just gotten his nuts slapped, “and weaknesses they might have.” He was too occupied with the pain in his groin to notice, but Amy saw his wife flash her a smile.
“And here we have our first piece. I will give you a minute to just take the painting in and consider how it makes you feel.”
Amy took a moment to consider the painting herself. She loved the eye-catching piece, even if it was rather simple in its message. But the bold brushwork, the striking depiction of such a well-known myth, is what made it so fun. She loved starting a tour with it and watching the group react to it. Her nipples hardened and she quickly turned back to the tour group before she lost herself in the piece further.
She saw smiles on all the women’s faces. Some tried to hide them behind hands raised to their mouths in shock, but they all felt the same excitement, the same buzz Amy radiated. Already she could feel a bond grow between the women of the group, one founded on the relief that they were women, that they didn’t have weak sacks hanging between their legs. Meanwhile, the men tried so hard to look nonchalant, aloof and unperturbed by the threat the piece made that it was adorable. Amy felt her practiced smile grow.
“Here we have ‘*The Liberation of Europa*’ by Emanuela Bellini, oil on canvas, painted in 1742. The painting stands in stark contrast to the tale most people are familiar with. Emanuela has depicted a lesser known, later part of the Greek legend that is so famous it has lent an entire continent its name. Is anyone aware which myth this painting is referring to?”
The woman that had slapped her husband’s nuts earlier raised her hand. “Is it Europa’s abduction by Zeus?”
Amy clapped her hands together, making her breasts bounce. “Just so! While sources differ on whether she was the daughter of Telephassa, Argiope or Perimede, they do agree on Europa being a Phoenician princess that was of astounding beauty. She was so beautiful, in fact, that the god Zeus decided to turn himself into a bull to gain her confidence, then carry her off and force himself on her. It is a blatant example of patriarchal propaganda that ennobles a girl that was abducted from her home and brutally raped by a man.”
Amy swept her arms out over the beautifully detailed painting. “But the myth is often left incomplete, as its latter parts are so uncomfortable for the patriarchy, so empowering for any women that have been wronged by a man. The artist has captured the pivotal moment in the myth, the very second Europa truly frees herself from her captor and rapist. In the center of the image, we see Zeus in his form as the bull, bound by rope and stock. We mustn’t forget that Europa was a princess, and so it shouldn’t come as a surprise that she is ordering the warriors to bind the bull and pull apart its legs, allowing her to punish her rapist for his crimes against her.”
A young woman, a brunette with big, dorky glasses that screamed ‘art history student’, interrupted her. “But why are they all bare-chested?”
“Excellent question. For one, it is,” Amy said and cupped her boobs, enjoying the feeling of their heft in her hands, “a most liberating action to cast off the shackles that bind our femininity, as I’m sure the girls in the group that also got their puppies out can attest to.” She winked at a blond bombshell that had started out nervously but now displayed her goods proudly. Her tits were so impressive, even Amy was getting a bit excited at the sight. “Also, it’s an easy way for the artist to show that all the warriors binding the male god are women, that no man is needed to subdue the rapist.”
Satisfied with the answer, the brunette thanked Amy and, after a moment of hesitation, decided to reach under her turtleneck sweater and nestle with her bra. Nervously, she pulled the piece of fabric out from under her sweater and stuffed it into her backpack. Amy gave her a pleased smile.
“In the center of the piece is, of course, Europa herself. She stands behind the bull, her hand firmly clutching the bull’s testicles. We can see the bull’s co- erm, its penis dangling behind them, pathetically dribbling semen onto the ground. Notice how detailed this area of the painting is. Not only can we see the individual drops of cum, but also the veins on Zeus’s cock bulging. Despite the danger he is in, he cannot help but be aroused by the princess. Both of the bull’s balls are stretched tightly in the sack, distending the skin of the scrotum to produce clear outlines of two fat nuts. See how they bulge? We can clearly tell they are stuffed with cum that is eager to shoot out. Too bad for him that Europa has a different idea.”
Amy felt herself blush but kept talking, enraptured by the scene. “Europa’s hand is turning white from the force she applies to the testicles trapped in her hand, no doubt clenching them incredibly tightly. Thankfully, we can’t even imagine how painful that must be, right, ladies?”
The women in the group chuckled. “Her gaze is intent, entirely fixed on the balls of her rapist as her other hand raises the hatchet over her head. We can *feel* that she is about to strike, that she is about to castrate her rapist for his sins and render his cock forever useless. A god’s cock, the ultimate form of maleness, about to be ended by a mortal woman, and not just any woman, the one he has raped. We can see she *loves* what she is about to do, how much it excites her to rent his manhood from him. It is… breathtaking.”
It literally was. Amy finally stopped and let herself breathe in. Several women in the group seemed to share her excitement, blushing as they studied the painting intently.
The man who was by himself, a guy wearing a cap and sunglasses, cleared his throat. “That seems like conjecture. Why would she enjoy, uhm, attacking the bull like that? In fact, how do we even know she was raped by that bull, if anything she’s mad she didn't get any and she’s one of those crazy man-hating permavirgins. She probably just needs a good dicking.”
*Oh god yes, I’ve got one insecure enough to start arguing*, Amy thought. *This tour is going to be fun.*
Several of the women in the group started shouting at him, enraged by the man’s question, but Amy halted them. “Sir, you have some troubling ideas about women. I will not comment on your misogynist phrasing this time, but I warn you that we will not tolerate hate speech like that. To answer your question, for works of this time period, you must consider the clues the artist dresses the scene with. The entire right-hand side of the painting, the area behind Europa, is taken up by a rose bush with unnaturally large flowers.”
The man crossed his arms. “Yeah, so?”
“Most people only know the rose as a symbol of love, but in paintings of this period it had a much more direct meaning. Have you ever heard of a vulva described as a flower? The comparison is as old as humanity. The roses behind Europa are large so that they are more noticeable, and they are a deep red color and in full bloom. Red roses were used to signify a woman who was not a virgin anymore, her flower dyed red by her defloration as opposed to a virgin’s white rose.”
The man clicked his tongue, trying to act like he wasn’t convinced. Amy continued. “The flowers are directly behind Europa, to show that they signify her status as a woman who has been taken. But consider them more closely. Do you see the dew on each blossom? How copiously it runs down their petals? Now that I have explained that the rose represents her vulva, I’m sure I don’t need to explain how the dew shows us precisely that Europa *enjoys* castrating Zeus.” She smiled, and the man meekly stepped back into the group, trying not to look at her.
*Oh, I’m not done with you yet, boy.* “Of course, Emanuela’s personal history also plays a role in how we must evaluate this piece. She painted this piece after a particularly nasty breakup, and most historians agree that it reflects her own situation at the time. This is evidenced by the fact that she sent this painting to her ex-boyfriend along with a bucket filled with ice and, on top, the shrivelled remains of a pair of human testicles. Who those balls belonged to and if Emanuela cut them off herself is unknown to this day. But I’m sure we can all agree that the message is clear.”
Murmurs erupted among the women, and with a smile, Amy saw the sunglasses wearing douche shrink in on himself. *God that felt good. I have to be careful. I could cut glass with my nipples right now. If I get even more excited, Europa won’t be the only one with bedewed petals.*
“I think that will be enough on ‘*The Liberation of Europa’*. Let’s head on over to the next piece. There is plenty more to discover in our museum, and I want to make sure we devote enough time to our interactive exhibits later on…”
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*I apologize to anyone who actually knows what they're talking about when it comes to art (or museums for that matter). At least this one ended up on the shorter side.*