female-led relationships – Page 20 – Contemplating the divine

Man talk

Now listen
darling, just about dinner tonight.
Annie wants you to talk to Victor: she’s trying to get him into
chastity, and she thought you might be able to help reassure him. If you could just tell him how much you love
being in chastity, how you’ve never regretted a single day and all that kind of
thing.

Well… I know
it’s not quite true, darling. But
Victor’s a bit reluctant, so it’s probably best not to tell him about the early
days. I expect he’ll have to go through the same anger and frustration, the
tears – god, all that constant whining and pleading! But that’ll be good for their relationship,
just like it was for ours. They mostly
only play at CP these days, so Annie will have to step up a bit in that
department. She’s quite looking forward
to it – she was asking my advice about canes.

Just as long
as Victor accepts that first step and lets her lock him. After that, she can use it as leverage to
sort out the rest of their relationship, and soon it won’t matter in the
slightest what he wants. So telling a
few little white lies isn’t really such a bad thing, if it helps with that, is
it?

Just
remember: big smiles, best thing that ever happened, very happy husband. Oh – and Annie asked me to make sure you were
never alone with Victor. Of course, I
told her you’d have strict instructions about what to say and you wouldn’t dare
disobey me… just make sure either she or I are in earshot at all times.

I mean – you
don’t have any regrets do you darling?

Do you,
darling?

No, didn’t
think so. Off you go and get ready.

Unreasonable force

He’s a lucky guy.

Planet Femdom, of course. If you like statuesque ladies brutally dominating… well, that bloke mostly. I do, actually. Rather a lot.

Cruelty-free farming has its downsides. Still, I’m glad she found a solution.

Oh dear. Another of those painful conversations.

Actually, the story is rather simple. The post of office tampon boy was advertised, so he studied, and prepared and pulled every string he knew of to get it. But wouldn’t you?

Try not to take it too badly. Just because you’ll be spending the rest of your life alone, in poverty, with your empty days filled only with the longing for her doesn’t mean you have to be miserable. It just makes it very, very likely.

Bit of politics, bit of politics

I’m trying a few themed posts just at the moment. This is a theme some of you seem to like, presumably because it deals with such a subversive, transgressive topic: men’s lib.

Dangerous to bring politics into what is intended to be a fun and sexy blog and I certainly don’t want to offend anyone. Nothing in this post should be taken in any way as an endorsement of a political programme of equality for men.

…and a little bonus story.

Speaking truth to power

“The so-called men’s liberation movement” Simon wrote “is an
absurd caricature of a true political cause: its slogans meaningless, its
demands more like an infantile tantrum than a realistic political
programme. I regret wasting so much of
my life on it. Men simply are not the
equals of women, and the sooner we accept that, the happier we will be.”

He stared at the sentence he had just written. Strong stuff.
A complete repudiation of everything that he had fought for and believed
in for all of these years. But it had to
had to be said.

He imagined the horror that an activist in the movement
would experience, on reading those damning words. Or indeed, how he himself would have reacted
just a few months before. He had been ‘Commander
Riotboy’, shadowy author of numerous savage polemics against the oppressive
matriarchal system and the attitudes – of both men and women – that allowed its
injustices to be perpetuated down the generations. Oddly, the strongest memory for him was a
smell – the smell of the hot ink as the illegal press whirred furiously through
the night, stamping out copy after copy of their newsletter, to be stapled,
transported around the country and furtively distributed on any of those rare
occasions when men gathered together without close female supervision.

He remembered running too, the sounds of pursuing police
whistles seemingly right behind him, his comrades seized to be taken no doubt
for ‘re-education’. He had always
somehow escaped to fight on another day, in the process becoming something of a
legend in the movement. Riotboy – the man
who would never give up.

But that, he reflected, had all been before he met Karen. And here he was. A meek
little househusband, dressed in skimpy little shorts that she had chosen for
him, beneath which his cock nestled securely in a locked tube to which only she
had the key. Where before he had devoted his life to producing articles furiously
calling for male liberation, today he spent his days at his desk writing words
that said exactly the opposite. And he
felt strangely content to do so.

He sighed. Best to
get on, as Karen would be back soon, and she would come up to check on his
progress. He’d already had a hard
spanking this morning, he certainly didn’t want another.

He picked up his pen and carefully wrote the number “312.” Then next to it, with equal care (because
more than three crossings out on any one page would mean writing that page all
over again), he wrote:

“The so-called men’s liberation movement is an absurd
caricature of a true political cause: its slogans meaningless, its demands more
like an infantile tantrum than a realistic political programme. I regret wasting so much of my life on
it. Men are not the equals of
women, and the sooner we simply accept that, the happier we will be.

313. The so-called
men’s liberation movement is an absurd caricature of a true political cause: its
slogans meaningless, its demands more like an infantile tantrum than a
realistic political programme. I regret wasting
so much of my life on it. Men are
not the equals of women, and the sooner we simply accept that, the happier we
will be.

314 …”

What a long way off number 500 seemed. He hoped tomorrow’s line would be shorter.

…aaaaaand a bonus bonus little mini-story. This is from earlier in the same timeline, just after Simon met Karen:

“And what do you think about the men’s-lib movement?” she
asked sweetly.

“Men’s lib is a ridiculous idea.” Simon replied. “Men must accept their place in society and
be obedient to women, for their own good.”

He tensed.

There was
a pause and then an agonising CRACK! of the paddle across his buttocks. He
cried out loud at the shocking pain.
That had been the hardest yet.

“What do you think of the men’s lib movement?” Karen asked
again.

“Men’s lib is a ridiculous idea” he gasped “Men must accept
their place in society and be… and be obed – “

CRACK!

“No hesitation, remember, Simon. What do you think of the men’s lib movement?”

Begging on the streets

Street begging? Eh? I’m opposed to it. I just think it’s unecessary, and disturbs people going about their daily business.

But she insists on it, so of course who am I to argue?

Actually, I prefer to use centimetres. Or even milimetres.

I wonder what the prize is, if he gets them right?

Then again, maybe we don’t have to discuss it right now…. We do? Oh. OK.

Actually, the back of the laptop adjusts. But her way’s good.

I wonder what it can be?

Ex

Oh darling,
I must tell you about last night!

Well, I was
round at Jill’s for our girls’ night, same as usual, and she put on a snuff
movie. You know how she’s into that
stuff. It was called “Death by a
Thousand Cuts” I think. By the same team who made “Spit-roast“.

Anyway –
you’ll never guess who the main character was!

No, silly,
not the woman. Actually, there were
three of them. No no – the man, the
victim!

Well, it
was Thomas! You know – my Thomas! I recognized him immediately, you know in
that bit at the start they like to do, when they explain that it’s all real and
show the some of the implements, to get them good and terrified.

I can’t
imagine how they got hold of him. I mean
when you came along and I divorced him, Sally took pity on him and took him in
as her houseboy, do you remember? And I
know Sally’s a bit strict, but I’m sure she’d never have one of her boys
tortured to death like that. I suppose
she must have sold him to someone else, and so on until he ended up there –
trapped in a cellar with no way out except an agonizing death! Poor Thomas, he was quite sweet really.

Oh there’s
one thing I must mention – but I don’t want you to get jealous, OK
darling? At quite a few points when he
was really terrified, before his throat got so messed up that he couldn’t
really speak any more, in amongst all the pleading and shrieking for mercy, he
called out my name! Quite
distinctly! Isn’t that sweet? After all these years. I was rather touched.

Anyway, I
know you don’t really approve of snuff movies, but you have to see this
one, seeing as you know someone who’s in it! Jill lent it to me. There’s a few
bits we can fast-forward through if you’re squeamish.

Vermiform

That’s me.

Of course he can. He’d do anything for her. Wouldn’t you?

Well… OK. This time.

Hmmm. An occasional sympathy fingerjob. Well, that’s a pretty big win, right there.

It’s great when you’re confident your therapist understands the real you, isn’t it?

I don’t think she’s taking this seriously enough, you know. I mean, a man’s been murdered here. And more importantly, a quite valuable pen was stolen, too.

Authority figures

I like a woman who knows what she wants. Don’t you?

Mmmm. If you pay extra maybe she’ll ignore you even more.

It’s tragic, the breakdown in authority in schools these days. Don’t you think?

Mmmm… pretty exciting, huh? I wonder what she has planned? A really hard spanking?

Actually, I have a ‘frequently annoying traveller’ card. So they don’t have to make any special arrangements: the stewardesses just slap me on sight. I get special meals too.

Relationship management

I don’t really have much of a managerial role in our relationship, actually, so I don’t know too much about that. This is what I know about:

It’s not easy being newlyweds – so many things to learn about how to live together. Thank goodness for whips, eh?

Oh – and for some tips about marriage? Try Servitor’s seven secrets series. You’ll never see marriage in the same way again.

No indeed. He’s only got one left, and he’d hate to lose it.

Now I want you to know that Mistress Eleise, who features so beautifully in this image, would never really use a coathanger as a sound. Not unless it was strictly necessary, anyway.

Why do I imagine that what they decide to do about it will also involve beating…?

It’s actually quite hard doing open-heart surgery when you’re having an orgasm. Fortunately, it’s only a man they’re operating on.

Words of discomfort

And of course, you do. It’s a question of how much you want it. Or rather, how much she does.

It’s good that he feels he can get these things out in the open. And good, as well, that she feels she can beat the shit out of him if he does.

Who’d have guessed?

…and then?

You mustn’t assume from this that they cruelly starve all their slaves to death, because that’s just not true. Some they fatten up for slaughter.

Fatale attraction

Normal service is now resumed. And I can use the letter ‘i’ and everything.

Impalas! Intrepid! Vicissitude! Inimitable! Mississississississipipipipitipie!

Oh god, that felt good.

On we go.