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?”