alpha females – Contemplating the divine

If wishes were ponyboys

Once again, this blog takes a little break from its usual commitment to hard-core realism to present some fairy tales. Pretty Grimm, I know, but it’s all I’ve got today.

Don’t worry: if she smashes the door, he has alternative accommodation options. She bought a birdcage, before she had the doll’s house furniture idea.

Even tyrannical despots enjoy ‘bring your daughter to work day’.

Frustrate you? Oh, the poor chap. I wonder how long he’ll be left in that condition?

King Jorral’s queen interpreted the promise as meaning that she would continue to sleep in a queen’s bed, and she was absolutely right about that.

Now she’s learning witchcraft, she’s got some plans for Mr Granger, too.

It’s going to be quite odd for the people running heaven when, in about 970 years, the first post-Internet cohorts of mortals start to arrive. ‘Where are all the men?’, they might ask. Although obviously they’re not allowed actually to say the answer.

Hell hath no fury like a woman…

…does.

Men don’t really understand stuff like that, unless it’s slapped into them.

It’s a symbolic denial of heterosexuality, you see. And a rather practical and concrete physical one too, of course.

Actually, of course, lady Vikings didn’t usually go raiding. No: they waited at home, standing there tapping their feet and idly stroking their whips as their apologetic husbands returned with more meagre and unsatisfactory booty. There is a reason Vikings were so fierce, you know.

Of course, it doesn’t take the human element out completely – it can’t whip you, for instance.

Thank goodness for that. She must have been quite distraught.

Even if you’re sure it’s not yours (and let’s face it – in your condition, you can be reasonably confident it isn’t, right?) it’s polite to offer to lick it off.

A cure for idleness

Or several cures, even, often bookable by the hour.

Don’t worry, she’ll listen carefully to your views on the matter, as you gasp them out. Or you can leave it until after and tell her while sobbing.

I’m sure Sylvie will be fine, as long as you don’t do or say anything annoying during the three weeks she has you. What’s that you say? You’re *male*? Hmm… OK, I can see that could be a problem.

Another nice lady, but make sure you ask her politely or she might get cross.

They also serve, who only kneel and pay.

They do accept femsuprem-supporting boys as ‘associate members’ but if you already belong to a full member, that won’t be necessary.

He could go along to the next meeting of his teachers’ union. Trouble is, so might she and some of her friends.

This lady, although seen only from behind, is the stunningly beautiful but (it seems) essentially uncontactable Lady Tamara Kenworthy. Fairer maiden never gymslip wore.*

*Except possibly this one. Ah well, dreaming is free.

Miss Chambers of Cruella, of course – and although it’s not in the foreground, it is in profile so once again, I will obsessively draw your attention to that lovely nose. Cleopatra has nothing on Miss Chambers. Now go and buy Andy’s stuff before he changes his mind about selling it online!

Just for once, the queue for the ladies’ isn’t that bad but she’s always wanted to try this.

That’s the thing about a visit to OWK – it helps you confront your irrational fears and replace them with rational ones.

‘All men are equal’ – sure. I can get behind that. But that’s about as far as it goes.

Or should I say, she once had me

It’s almost as if the designers of women’s loos knew…

I got caught up in the ‘you too’ movement – it just took one finger pointing languidly in my general direction, if I remember arright.

There’s actually relatively little outside work experience that can prepare a slave for the rigours of an OWK working stay, although I have heard that working for Amazon can help.

Not really. He was bending long before he finally broke.

Not quite sure what she means there. Housemaids’ and husbands’ roles are practically indentical anyway.

She was known for being a bully at school. I read an interview with a guy who was so traumatised by being mocked and humiliated by her in geography class that he abandoned the teaching profession entirely.

Malign neglect

She’s not one of these ladies who objects to your having an opinion that’s different from hers – in fact, you can have any opinions you like, as far as she’s concerned.

Madame Samantha’s technique with a cordkscrew is legendary.

Don’t worry: it’s a purely symbolic sacrifice the Goddess will demand of you. You won’t be deprived of anything important.

Which is fine, but did Trevor hear his wife call out for him to “just tidy this lot up, will you darling?” as she was carried into the bedroom? Better start wriggling.

Nothing ventured nothing win… faint heart never won fair mistress (or an unfair one).

A state of war only serves as an excuse for domestic tyranny

This blog’s all in favour of domestic tyranny, of course – despotism begins at home – but has mixed feelings about war. Nonetheless, today, as so often before, we pay tribute to those heroines who fought in a war they did not seek*, to overthrow a cruel, oppressive patriarchy and replace it with the cruel and oppressive matrarchy the good boys who read this blog fervently wish for.

* You might imagine that the female supremacist side started the war but you’d be wrong (male, are you? Yeah, that explains it. You’re probably wrong about a lot of things – don’t worry, there’s plenty of women who can set you right). They were no more responsible for the war than a wife wearily sighing “Oh darling, don’t make me whip you again!” is responsible for the consequences of your impertinence. The losing side in WWM had only themselves to blame, and if they didn’t take that opportunity to do so and apologise to their superiors, the survivors had plenty of time for that after the war.