Stories and pictures themed around female domination and male subjugation and servitude. Unsuitable for children, for alpha males, for hard-core practitioners with an interest in the politics of bdsm and the mechanics of complicated rope work. Of interest to perverts like me, basically.
Consent is so important in femdom, don’t you agree? So many men in the scene just don’t get that: but the way I see it, if you’re down on your knees and you want to get up but she doesn’t give her explicit consent, then that’s an absolute no-no. No ifs, no buts, no pleading. So what if your knees are hurting? Women have a right to decide what to do with their own males and that’s that.
Keep calm. It’s probably just one of those deals in which they remain attached to you but they’re ‘technically’ hers, you know? To kick and crush whenever she likes. Anyway, you might win. The King’s got to be the most powerful piece, right? And you’ve still got that.
If you think about it, it’s actually quite arrogant for a human male to think he deserves better treatment than a ‘real’ dog. I mean, dogs are quite intelligent, so if anything it should be the other way around.
Actually, one of the guys with a beard just behind her is wearing women’s slacks* under his shorts, so it’s not just you.
Just another stunningly beautiful woman (Nata Lee), lounging around in red lingerie until she gets cross and decides it’s time to put you over her lap and smack your bottom until you cry. Contemplating the Divine… because ‘real life’ is over-rated.
Of course the normal guys don’t pay anything like as much for making the mess as you have to to clean it up. But then if life was fair I guess we wouldn’t have femdom.
Anya’s a lot more relaxed and open about her AFM past then many A-listers. No names but if you happen to own a copy of April 2013, there’s a certain Hollywood megastar actress who’d pay a lot to get hold of it and remove it, permanently… or would pay someone else a lot to do the same to you.
Due to the unparalleled reach of this blog (other blogs may – indeed do – reach more people and indeed many of the same people, but none will be exactly parallel), book publishers tend to send me ‘flyers’ for their latest publications. I thought I might as well chuck them onto the blog, as you lot will wank to anything with pretty girls saying vaguely pervy things, and it’s a lot easier than doing anything creative.
Available in all good bookshops, but you might have to go along way to find a bookshop good enough, these days.
And it makes her life easier too – she can focus her disciplinary efforts on gratifying her own sexual desires, instead of constantly having to make you scream for mercy over simple household tasks inadequately carried out.
You don’t want to make it her problem, believe me. She employs very effective problem-solving techniques.
Well she could look a bit more interested! I mean, here you are, ready to scream your guts out as you thrash around in agony for everyone else’s pleasure…
I can date to the very day – almost to the very stroke – the moment I reached the same realisation, in my own blissfully happy marriage.
She’ll get the hang of it. You can’t make an omelette without breaking a few kitchen slaves, am I right?
Actually, she’s unfairly disparaging* AFM’s technology section here. Just in the last few issues they’ve reviewed all the latest electronic air fresheners – focusing on how easy it is to change the scent they disperse – they’ve had some fascinating pieces on the microfungus ecologies that thrive and provide such rich aromas from even the cleanest armpits and they have tested out all of the latest AI models with a carefully standardised prompt crafted to induce them to describe a particular activity (can’t remember what it was) in as much detail as possible. Plus reviews of shaving technologies obviously.
*But then, Ms Palvin is very welcome to disparage me unfairly as hard and as often as she wants. I live for the hope that one day she will.
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!
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.
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.
Probably best to clear two hours, there’s no point in rushing these discussions.
Oh well, if it’s complicated probably best not to inquire further. Anyway, you’re paying for this time. Let’s play!
For the avoidance of doubt, I am sure that in real life Goddess Lady Skotia plays safely and delightfully, so the widow’s fascinator (such a lovely word) is just part of the outfit. And she does look very fetching in it.
“I am her Highness’ gimp at Kew, pray tell me Sir, whose gimp are you?”
It’s Mike I feel sorry for. She might not be bothered where her shots end up but he has to run to fetch the bolts back. A fully cocked crossbow fires them at several hundred miles per hour, so they go a long way if nothing gets in the way to slow them down.
Miss Chambers from Cruella a long time ago… such a pretty nose.
That’s a bit unfair. I frequently get quite close to girls who are having real sex, sometimes under the very bed where it’s happening.
Winners focus on winning. Losers focus on winners.
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?
Actually, the silver brushes are worse – just ask your future father-in-law while you’re doing chores.
It’s not fair to expect her to whip you every time something needs doing, now, is it?
It’s good they’re talking about money, though: many couples don’t and it can lead to a lot of pain in their relationships.
He thought that a biology-class themed session would be all about sex, but instead he’s learning lots of useful facts.
I find that having a pair of electrodes nestling lovingly against my skin helps keep me closely in touch with her feelings. I wouldn’t have it any other way, even if I could.
