Category: mens lib

Helpless when she smiles

… and indeed when she doesn’t.


What a tie-breaker.



Needless to say, this blog does not purport to offer financial advice, and no investments should be undertaken on the basis of what you read here, unless so advised by an independent financial advisor, or directly ordered by a woman.

My SO sometimes let me choose the style of play.  Just none of the content.

They’re very strange.  I think most of them have just never experienced the firm loving guidance of a real woman. Sad, really.
Yes. Everything will be perfect.


And I will bare my soul in time

…when I’m kneeling at your feet.


I think we can agree, though, that it’s hardly femdom to expect men to do their share of the ironing. Including – obviously – making up for the backlog of several thousand years when they didn’t.

So we did.  I wonder what we’ll decide today.
Good thing there’s a woman in charge to take those tough decisions.

Sissy didn’t actually understand the book anyway. Men should go out to work, take decsions, look after their own lives? Terrifiying.
It’s a bluff.  I think it’s a bluff.


Fear and loving

They go together so well.  More common than you might think.


In the – very unlikely – event that it does start giving you punishment-level shocks, there’s a helpline you can call that’s open every single day between 10 and 4, and usually only has a very short waiting time. So… nothing to worry about.


That’s the thing about a good thrashing with a cane: it’s so straightforward. You know where you stand (corner, usually).
And there’s some lubricant in case any chafing symptoms emerge, for whatever reason.
Don’t worry: she’s planning to consummate the marriage.  Just not with you.







I’ve always thought the mens lib movement would be much more effective if they just recognised reality and put a woman in charge.  But they like to try to do things by themselves, bless them.

Ladies in red


Men’s libbers are actually firmly opposed to being spanked.  Most men are, actually.  But they always end up thankful for it.





I once paid a prostitute to have sex with me – booked with a credit card.  But when I opened the door to her, she looked me up and down, dug around in her purse, handed me the same amount in cash and walked off.  Which could actually be quite handy some time, if I’m ever somewhere with no ATMs.
Never try puppy play alongside an actual dog.  They’re better at it. Much the same goes for sex and real men.  Don’t even try – you’ll just look foolish.  And you wouldn’t want that.

 

Except that she’s started by using social media to advertise, so her first clients are precisely likely to be your friends.  And your close family members.

She’s sneaked a tub of lube into the bottom of your tuck box.  You know: to make the first few days a bit easier.  She’s kind like that.


Hurtful thoughts

I think writing lines is a ridiculous and pointless, tedious activity and there are few things I hate doing more than writing lines for hours at her command.  I told her that just the other day.  500 times, in fact.

I did an interview once. Check it out if you want to find out about the real Servitor, behind the leather mask.  Don’t read it if the thought of knowing the real Servitor makes you nauseous.
Ooh – looks like there might be a consciousness-raising session coming on!

There wasn’t much to begin with.
I often have ‘plenty to complain about’.  Regretably, I’m not allowed so it all goes to waste.


Drama. Queens.


Squeak!

I once asked my SO for a public humiliation session.  So She made me start a blog in which I had to publish all my sick, dark and bleak fantasies from my miserable life. It’s going quite well.

You could try telling her that your ‘trophy’ is barely worth collecting.

They’re going to be discussing mens’ rights quite extensively, I understand.










Don’t worry – they’re not going to throw them all at your face.  Pretty soon, they’ll move on to other parts of your body.

Nonsensual BDSM





Of course, it’s more effective to kill mens’ lib off with kindness and reasoned argument.  But not nearly as much fun.









I suppose a blowjob is out of the question? You might as well ask… it couldn’t hurt.

Thank goodness she gave you a safeword.  OK, she’s gagged you and also forgotten it.  But I think that demonstrates her commitment to responsible play.

Oh, nobody still beats her own husband in this day and age do they?

Goodness, what a long one, as no one in the history of the planet has ever said to me.


Maids of dishonour



Just as long as I don’t have to do the thing with the blow-up flamingo again.

He’s lucky she’s in such a good mood. When she gets cross, things can get quite unpleasant.
The delightful and sweet-natured Mistress Sidonia of the English Mansion, of course. She has a wonderful blog, full of unusual and interesting stuff.  I’m sure you knew that already.
The editors get a lot of letters like that. They have to hide them from their own wives, of course.

He came to the Sanctuary hoping to act out his fantasies about brutal rape.  Which, in a way, he did.
They look like they have high standards don’t they?  Or maybe the surface was just very, very dustry. He’ll be hoovering the bath after this.

 Here’s an extra one.  Doesn’t feature any actual females, so doesn’t really count (the same principle should apply to elections and board meetings, in my humblest opinion):








That would be funny…

… if it weren’t so sad.



Actually, there’s a perfectly simple explanation. Just tell her you’re a pervert.





You can get quite sweaty dressed up like that.  Hope the other guests have brought plenty of liquids.


Hee hee. Brad might think he’s her favourite lover, but she doesn’t put the spotty socks on for him, does she?  I know where her true affections lie.  Anyway, better get on with it, there’s ironing to do (yum!).
Very true. We each have our special skill. Mine is ‘incompetence’.
Blubbolow fllabbo ploh?