[Author’s disclaimer: Ladies this is a sexist tale. It isn’t written for you, but for MEN, MEN, MEN. Stop reading right now or else . . . just don’t blame me afterward . . . ahem]


As the result of humanity’s losing the war with the Andromedans, all human women were stripped of their buttocks. Yes, those twin pads of fat which human men lust after were stolen by the alien fiends.

Earth’s men woke up the next day feeling strangely cheated, and yet strangely at peace with themselves, as for the first time in their lives they found themselves able to stare at female members of their species without any lust whatsoever.

Even more amazing, most men now began to view women as persons rather than sex objects.

If men were pleased with this state of affairs however, the female of the species most definitely wasn’t.

*   *   *

Fifty miles above the Earth’s surface, the ruling committee of the Female Emancipation and Domination of Man (FEm-DoM) society were deliberating what to do about this latest sex crisis.

“This is a total disaster,” the goddess Electra growled, “it’s almost as bad as when the feminist lobbies got equal pay for women in the workplace.”

“That was easier to resolve,” Athena interjected, “All we had to do to ensure we kept the upper hand was get the sexual harassment legislation passed through congress.”

“We’re about to lose the ability to use sex as a weapon to disorient men for good ladies,” Hera said miserably. “Six thousand years of work is about flushing down the drain because some alien invaders . . .”

“Er . . . mankind started the war . . .”

“You KNOW what I mean!”

“Girls,” Electra chided gently, “fighting will get us nowhere. This is way beyond any crisis we’ve ever faced. With the loss of buttocks, ass, tush - call it what you will, these damn Andromedans have unwittingly crippled femalekind. Of what use is it having sexes if sex can’t interfere with the smooth running of society, create endless unresolvable issues, perpetually fuck up the gears of the relationship machine?”

“Yeah, all men love ass,” Hera said reflectively.

“Gay men don’t.”

“Yes they do; they just love a guy’s ass!"

Hera’s two compatriots stared at her narrowly. “Try to be serious.”

“What about trying to shift the focus from back to front, to the tits instead?”

“Won’t work, it’s considered sleazy to look at a woman’s chest instead of her face when she’s facing you. When she isn’t facing you however . . .”

“Damn, I forgot that!”

“Think, sisters think. There has to be something men like as much as ass; all we need is to give every woman a set of those instead and the status quo is restored, ergo, we’re in control again.”

They deliberated on this awhile.

“Guys love money.”

“No, cash-butts will send inflation skyrocketing.”


“Yes but . . . women won’t be able to get through doors anymore. I like the transport concept though - keep thinking along those lines.

Finally they hit on the perfect solution.


[A brief explanation of what the FEm-DoM goddesses were so panicked about.

Despite all their protestations to the contrary, women have ALWAYS dominated men. If you’ve any doubts as to this, remember accurately your mother’s relationship with your father, possibly before he left home never to return.

The average man doesn’t abandon his girlfriend or wife, he flees for his life.

It makes no difference however though, as whoever they end up with, they still end up in the same place.]

*   *   *

And so it came to pass that every Earthwoman now has a motorcycle in place of her stolen buttocks.

Things are more or less back to normal now. It’s routine to hear guys ogling girls saying things like:

“Wow dudes, check out that babe’s Harley Davidson! Man those rear lights. And those tires - just incredible,”
“That girl’s a Grand Prix Honda man.”

“Nooooooo, she’s a Confederate Hellcat.”

“I’ll betcha five dollars.”

“You guys talking bout Mary? Dude, save your money. She’s some low-cost Korean brand!”

Cocktail party conversation:

“You know personally I’m a 16-inch rim guy myself; give me too much tire and I’ve no idea what to do with it.”

“I know exactly what you mean. My last girlfriend was a German three-wheeler, really heavy duty, she kept leaving tracks all over my . . .”

And the ladies themselves?

“So I asked him: Do you wanna go freewheelin’ sometime?”

“No you didn’t girlfriend! That’s just nasty!”

“Well you know me! He looked like the sort of guy who’d be able to get a good grip on my handlebars.”

“Personally I prefer a guy who fits neatly on my seat . . .”

“And you’re calling me dirty-minded . . .”

And lawyers?

“Your honor, I propose to show that Mr. Mackintosh here twice attempted to oil Miss Blakeley’s gears without her permission while she was working as his secretary, and also tampered with her starter-keys . . .”

Fresh expressions have been coined:

“Dave’s such a pain in the motorbike Kate.”

“Yeah, I know. He’s a real exhaust pipe.”

Teenage girls now all have either BMX bike or skateboard behinds by the way; teenage boys are extremely content with those.

*   *   *

So Earth’s women are happy again, no they’re overjoyed, no - ecstatic. The man-domination business is booming better than ever before.

Earth’s men however, though happy as hell to have something to ogle and lust after and fight over again, still can’t help feeling screwed.

It’s like they were let off the hook for a few days, and just when they’d gotten used to the sweet scent of freedom, bam! The hook’s been rammed down their throats again. Only much deeper this time.

And they still don’t understand what went wrong.

To find out I suggest they pick another fight with the Andromedans.

"Behind Every Successful Woman"

Copyright: © 2011 Wol-vriey


Wol-vriey is Nigerian, and quite tall. He believes that there actually are things that go bump in the night.

No comments:

Post a Comment