I've just gone through a breakup, and I'm sad. Good thing my friend, Goddess D , has trained her husband to take all sorts of If I want to take out my heartbreak on a man, I can use hers as an object. It will make me feel better, for sure!

She's out for the day, but she gave me the keys and permission to use her dummy husband any way I like. And he's already locked in the sm*ther bench anyway, so all I have to do is saunter in and have my way.

I examine my prey and I can feel the angry energy rising up inside me, my mouth almost watering with anticipation. I want to break a man.

I place one beautiful espadrille foot on top of his chest and look down on him. My power c*mpletely sets in, and I lean down slowly, closer to his face. So he can hear every word I'm about to say, and he can look into my eyes and see that there is no mercy there. You see, while his wife may have a lifelong relationship with him, and he can trust her with his limits and level of s*ffering... I don't love him.

I have no reservations and right now, I hate men.

What follows is a true-bl*e pint of ice cream for my broken heart. Some women eat chocolate and watch sappy movies about fictional men; I prefer to cause a live man real p*in, so that my s*ffering disappears and goes into his st*pid body.

His st*pid face becomes a seat for my *ss. I squish my *ss cheeks against his face cheeks, and I complain about men with such passion, I start to bounce hard against his nose when I get to the angriest parts of my rant. If he can catch a breath in between butt-slams, he's a lucky man!

Increasingly excited about how much better I am than all men , I apply more pressure in different positions. I turn around so my p*ssy is sm*shed onto his face, because that is where all of the true power is and will always be. I leeeean back onto his face and cross my arms behind my head...musing. I can feel him struggling to breathe beneath me.

When I turn back around to cover him with my *ss, I put my legs all the way up and cross them on top of his body. Now my full weight is pressed onto his face, and after too long, his head starts to wiggle and his body twitches in fear. I wait a few seconds, to keep him in that terrifying moment, before allowing him a quick breath. Then I seal him up again.

I slam my big, beautiful breasts on top of his face, like an *ss with n*pple piercings, and I press them down to close off his air.

Something I truly enjoy is placing my foot, in a heeled or wedge shoe, on top of a man's prostrate body as I revel in my strength. A victory pose. No matter my stature, I bring men to their knees and take their breath away.

And that's something to take away, isn't it? Suddenly, I'm over it. I remember who I am and the power I possess. No man can rise to my level. I don't deal with trash - and men are trash.

I take the garbage out by ignoring his physical pleas and his frantic flailing beneath my *ss until he stops moving. He will be fine; he'll wake up before his wife and owner comes back from her busy day. Just in time to endure it all over again.

I'll have to thank Goddess D for our Femdom version of junk food and chick flicks - Using her human furniture husband to the very last drop was just what I needed to get my groove back!

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