In the reign of Queen Sasha in 2142, the Whipping Act was passed, directing that disrespectful, disobedient, lazy or downright stupid slaves were to be taken to a square, market place or other public place and to be publicly whipped from the middle upwards. Whipped until the body should be bloody. The notorious Judge Victoria II, once said to the Lady Torturer: I charge you to pay particular attention to this piece of shit. Scourge him soundly, scourge him till his blood runs down! A few months ago, at Nottingham, a young slave, aged twenty, was found guilty of lying and was, by order of the Court of Quarter Sessions, tied to the tail of a cart and whipped all the way up from Maid-Marian-Road to High-Heel-Cross. There are 129 whipping-posts in the city of Nottingham alone right now. The male slaves lament their woes, but to no avail. Because men have mistreated Women over the centuries, and what goes around comes around, as the old saying goes. March 2167, Madame Ellen – The Downfall Of Men.
When I tell you to clean the house, you will clean the goddamn house. And it doesn’t matter if you already cleaned it this morning. My word is law so you will do as you’re told. So when I tell you to shut up, dance, jump, crawl or sleep on the floor, you will do so without thinking. Which should not be too hard; you’re a man – or better said: a shadow of a man – which means there’s nothing between your ears but silence, drought and emptiness. My orders are not bloody multiple-choice questions; you can’t choose to obey or disobey, like or dislike. You’re a slave and you will do whatever I tell you to. Without raising an eyebrow, without rolling your eyes, without moans and sighs, without shrugging your shoulders and – God forbid – without asking why. Question Me and you’re already with one foot out of the door. I have no patience for stupidity, get that through your thick skull. So, get down on your fucking knees, hands behind your back, eyes to the floor and wait for My orders.
We made landfall on the northern tip of the island. We had been at sea for 9 days and we were glad to be on land again. We walked for days through the jungle in intense heat and monsoon rains. And then, after six backbreaking days, the city suddenly emerged from the mountain mist.
The City of Fem is, without doubt, the finest and noblest city in the world. It has beautiful canals, marketplaces (including several slave-markets), temples, palaces, taverns, shops, more than a thousand baths and the magnificent hanging gardens are each three kilometers long. The spectaculair waterfalls to the west can be seen from the city itself. The many, grand statues that are everywhere in the city depict Queens, Female Warriors and Princesses, but also defeated, suffering and labouring male slaves. Each square has at least three whipping-posts and several stocks and cages. It’s far more beautiful than Atlantis and it’s fair to say this gorgeous city is a modern version of the Garden of Eden. The city is ruled and governed by the power of approximately 150.000 Women and all 450.000 men are kept in slavery. So if you want to know what Female Supremacy and male slavery is all about, then visit the magnificent City of Fem.
Corporal punishment is not a punishment at all for a masochist. If anything: it’s a treat, a reward for bad behaviour. That won’t do, will it? So if you need to punish a man, then take control over the sausage between his legs, because most slaves are madly in love with their own wiener. Herds of them will attach a photo of their ding-a-ling to a slave application. Quite disgusting, but there you go. I tend to ignore those applications all together, because I want a slave, not someone who’s obsessed with his own scrotum.
A most adequate tool to tame the beast between his legs is a chastity device. Put his dick in the nick and power is yours. From now on he has to earn each orgasm. Each mistake will be punished and don’t be too squeamish about it. Be ruthless if you have to, because he loves being in this predicament. Trust Me: the longer his pickle is locked up, the more submissive and obedient he becomes. Besides: no matter where he is or what he does, he will be reminded of the fact that you’re the one who holds the key to his happiness. So lock him up and lock him down, because that’s more effective than a thrashing.
I say to you, my friends, even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. A dream that one day Women will rise up and take power till the end of time. I hope and pray that one day a man will only be judged by his obedience and servitude towards Women. Oh hail, oh hail Female Supremacy! I have a dream that one day men will crawl the hilltops of the Midlands and the mighty Rockies, the heightening Mount Kilimanjaro and the snowcapped peaks of the Himalaya to serve and obey the Almighty Women. Halleluja! So let male slavery ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let it ring from the mighty mountains of New York and the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania. Blessed Ladies, let male slavery ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, so that we can finally say: slaves, slaves, great God a-mighty, we’re slaves at last.
This blog is about my fantasies, fetishes, personal stories, vintage stuff and about the uncharted and unexplored possibilities of Female Supremacy. No hidden links to pay-sites, no popups or other nuisances. Just a plain and simple blog. So all aboard, Ladies and gentlemen, let’s visit the wonderful world of Female Superiority.