Feminine Governance

The Experiment

The ExperimentOne must be cautious in hatching the plot I envision. The consequences of failure are presumably divorce and relative poverty, the bevy of Bouvier family lawyers always itching to trigger one of the many prenuptial and or trust provisions which would curtail the flow of milk. Yes, divorce would ensue, and divorce under certain causes could bring niggardly trust distributions. Yet in having moderate assets of my own, I can afford to gamble.

“Oh Reggie, so clumsy of me!”

The vocal outburst follows the deliberate dropping of a wine glass. It crashes to the floor and shatters. I bend to pick up the pieces.

“No dear, you’ll cut yourself,” my chivalrous husband declares, likewise bending to assist.

As noted, Reggie keeps things simple. Our sole servant is a cook, and she prepares a light breakfast and an occasional sumptuous dinner. Otherwise, there is no domestic help. At first I thought it was Reggie being modest in maintaining such an unpretentious lifestyle. But of course I later learned of the thousands spent on furtive affairs and subsequent payoffs. Thus in Reggie’s mind the cash flow is best diverted to lustful encounters. Plus there is the privacy factor. The fewer the employees the easier it is to cloak his duplicitous and licentious conduct.

And so such mishaps are ours to ameliorate and my devious mind has Reggie falling into the opening chapter as his fingers work to pick up shards of glass.

“Oops!”

Yes, with a well practiced ‘oops’ I turn towards the kitchen, ostensibly for a rag, and just as deliberately I bump into my kneeling Reggie.

“Oww!” venting the sudden pain of a wound.

“Oh Reggie, I made you cut yourself!”

I dash to the kitchen where I have prepared a special bandage.

“I’ll tend to it,” I firmly suggest to assure he awaits my care.

Returning in an equal dash, my distraught and bleeding Reggie does not question how I came across a bandage so quickly. Instead he remains in the dining room while I tend to the insignificant wound.

“I’m so sorry.”

Fortunately, in my scheming mind, I have had the cook, Ms. Grover, prepare oysters as an appetizer. And fortunately such are ready for consumption.

The bandage is permeated with DMSO, which upon contact with the skin brings a garlic taste, some say that of oysters, to the mouth. Thus, in exacting timing which one can ascribe to the ballet theater, I finish bandaging just as the cook brings appetizers.

“Your favorite, Reggie. Makes up for all my clumsiness.”

So just as the DMSO permeates the skin and the curious flavor hits the taste buds, raw oysters will be consumed, camouflaging my test. And the offered fare causes Reggie’s mind to quickly shift from the mishap as the cook cleans away the remaining broken glass and we sit to eat.

“So how was your day dear?” my mind ignoring the answer to my own question.

Instead, there are thoughts of my internet research.

‘Tadalafil, sold under the trademark Cialis, is the only prescription erectile dysfunction tablet clinically proven to both go to work fast, in as little as 30 minutes for some men, and work up to 36 hours. With Cialis, you can be ready when the moment is right.’

Yes, such thoughts of the effusive description, obviously drawn from the pharmaceutical company’s website, bring a smile. Mixed with the DMSO laced bandage is the compound for erectile dysfunction. I crushed up some tablets and found indeed that DMSO is miscible.

So, I suspect that sometime in the middle of dinner, Reggie will become rather priapic.

Devious of me, but I need to know my chemistry works.