Category: Armpit Fetishist Monthly

That’s what she said

Don’t make her say it twice.

I’m sure Julie won’t mind at all but it’s always polite to ask.
My SO likes to play this game and would you believe it, I’ve lost 23 times in a row. What are the odds?* I would say I’m very unlucky but I’m so lucky to be married to such a wonderful lady, that would be churlish.

* Just over one in ten million. “Do the maths” – as a Governess I used to visit used to say – “then bend over the punishment bench so I can do the marking”.

Many relationships that end in divorce could actually be saved if only the woman were prepared to make her husband do the work.
There’s usually a little crowd of embarassed-looking beta-boys waiting outside that club, so you can pass the time in awkward chats with them. You can bond over lucky you all are to have the opportunity perhaps to be useful to your goddesses, boyfriend jealousy issues, how you deal with chafing from your chastity belts and all that kind of subbie stuff. As long as she’s given permission, obviously.
He must have made a mistake.

The divine Mistress Akella, there.

It’s about time an A-list star called out these creepy publications that use images of actresses without permission, to titillate their sad and perverted readership. This blog applauds Ms Scarlett’s courage in speaking out.

New year, new armpits

I have occasionally featured material from this blog’s sweaty sister publication Armpit Fetishist Monthly. Now as you all know, AFM (as the cognos-scenty call it) has long ago abandoned its origins as a jazz mag for lonely perverts with a bizarre fetish for mainly shaven female armpits and has branched out into trenchant political analysis, social commentary and artistic ideas that set the cultural agenda, for lonely perverts with a bizarre fetish for mainly shaven female armpits.

But it has never forgotten its roots and this year I am delighted to bring you the girls from the AFM 2025 calendar!

But you won’t cry, I know

Angry tears are too dear.

She likes it when you say please and thank you, but you need to get used to saying them quickly, because once she starts using alternating hands, it gets pretty fast.
Men need to take responsibility for their own behaviour. His body, his fault.
They say when you’re in a hole it’s best to stop digging… although my experience has always been that if I’m digging a hole I’d better damn well keep digging as fast as I can, until she tells me to stop.
Don’t get your hopes up, she rarely keeps the boys she collects when she’s out.
And if she does finally snap and put you on the leash, for goodness’ sake don’t make her drag you along. It’s not fair to expect her to do all the work in the relationship.
She doesn’t realise what a career boost a photo feature in AFM can provide. Take a look at some of the shots from the magazine I’ve featured here – A-listers, almost all of them.*

* Fans of AFM – yes, there are some, you’re not the weirdest reader of this blog, you know, not by a long chalk – can look forward to a great start to 2025. No spoilers, though.

Prank-mags

Some more very bad attempts to create magazine covers. Just ignore me and I’ll probably stop doing this, out of embarassment, sooner or later.

AFM has already been mentioned in several captions in the blog, so I thought I’d give ‘readers’ a glimpse of what it looks like. Frankly, once you’ve seen one issue you’ve pretty much seen them all, I think, although remarkably it’s now in its seventeenth year of publication. It just goes to show, as I always like to say (when I can’t think of any other way of finishing a comment off).
They always have a celebrity interview but, like the divine Ms Kidman’s in this issue, it’s usually disappointingly short.
It’s a top-shelf magazine, of course, mainly so that laughably short sissies have to blushingly ask a big tall man (or, if they’re very lucky: woman) to reach it down for them.

She builds you up just to put you down

What a clown.

How very inconsiderate.
Funny how often that happens. It’s as if the spinner’s drawn to that outcome.
I discovered very early on in my dating career that the secret to really satisfying a woman sexually is to make sure she never meets me.
She has a similar approach to the men in her life – she likes them hungry, but not actually starving to death, or at least not too quickly.
She likes to feel a big cock inside her, so why can’t you?
Remarkably, AFM won a Pulitzer back in 1957 but its editorial standards have slipped a little since.

Unequal sex

It’s the best sort…

I read somewhere that the medical advice on stress has changed. It used to be seen as something for middle aged and older men to avoid, but apparently recent research has shown that repeated stress and anxiety can make men better at all sorts of useful things, that more than compensate for any loss of life expectancy.
If he’s worried about it dripping randomly, she can always bring the candle down closer for a more accurate aim.
I admire Sylvia’s idealism, but isn’t it about time we all just admitted that men are just too stupid for most modern jobs? I mean, nothing personal guys, but we all know it’s true, right? They’re even inventing artificial intelligence now, before the males of the species have managed the natural kind, so really I don’t see the point in trying to catch up. There are lots of things men are better at than women – mostly involving manual drudgery – as long as they’re firmly supervised, so isn’t that enough? Why just set yourself up to fail?
Always difficult, playing with amateurs. Oh well, how bad can it be?
He also consented to several amendments to that agreement, after a few days of marriage. Funny how there’s always a few things you didn’t think of, isn’t it?

…and two extras, why not, both inspired by a recent post by the femdom blogger-in-chief, Paltego on Femdom Resource.

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