Along similar lines as the personal ad written a few years back, I once vented my frustrations in a BDSM mailing list I used to run. Enjoy.

The problem is basically this: For every dominant woman, there are literally dozens and dozens of submissive guys, ranging from the wannabes to the experienced, trying to be at Her feet. Good for Her as it increases the Lady;s choices, not so good for sub guy. Speaking as one who has been passed over himself quite a few times, I know whereof I speak. Other D/S relationships, well, at least by the numbers, y'all just dont have the sheer unequalness of it.

I have the solution, no one wants to hear it, but I have it...


Stop laughing a minute and hear me out.

In any closed system with an unequal ratio of females to males, violence is often Mother Nature's way to balance the numbers, prevent starvation, weeding out the excess numbers. Survival of the fittest. The weak fall, the strong pass their genes on (or in this case, earn the right to fetch the Lady drinks).

So we get a huge arena, a collection of lethal weaponry, maybe broadcast it as a pay-per-view event. Up in the grandstands the Ladies watch in amusement, collars in hand, waiting for the lucky survivors. Then the subs are lead out and matched off, one by one from opposite sides of the arena to fight to the death.

There can be only one.

Let's get ready to rumble.

Sydb enters the arena wearing a postal uniform (for intimidation), armed with a katana and a mysterious pouch. He smiles at his opponent and tries his 'Clint Eastwood' look out on him.

Sub X is dressed as a Roman Gladiator, armed with short sword and shield, slightly unnerved by his postal opponent, but wonders why the guy keeps squinting at him.


The two start circling, each taking the measure of the other, looking for the opening, the quick kill.

Sydb springs forward with a vicious downward slash that Sub X deflects with the shield, the loud clang of metal against metal ringing out.

Sub X stabs out with the sword in his free hand, making Sydb quickly step back to dodge, a fall now would be fatal. "Fight with your eyes open, you bloody idiot!" Sub X sneers.

Sydb sheepishly complies, and realizes he's watched too many Clint Eastwood movies. He growls an answer back, questioning Sub X's dubious lineage.

Sub X suggests Sydb do something anatomically impossible and attacks.

Back and forth the two exchange blows, steel rings upon steel, neither one giving an inch, no quarter asked nor given, all that matters is the prize of the collar.

The fighters collide together in a flurry of flashing blades, hacking and stabbing, then break apart. Sub X's sword hand is bleeding from a nasty cut.

"Ha! First blood is mine!" Sydb grins wolfishly.

"I cut myself by accident, you schmuck. Who built this lousy sword anyway??"

The fight continues, thrust and parry, feint and dodge, the fighter's muscles glistening with blood and sweat, each man seeking the life of the other. Outside of the center ring brightly colored mascots in animal costumes caper about and act cute to amuse the crowd since the fight is running a little long.

An upset--Sub X catches Sydb offguard with a shield-bash, sending him sprawling one way, his katana the other. Sub X advances on Sydb, sword upraised, moving in for the certain kill.

Sydb's fingers hurriedly unlace the pouch at his side, trying to get at the contents.

Sub X raises his sword higher, ready to bring it down and chop Sydb in two. "You're finished, old son, your life--the prize--perhaps to even be the collared slave of Lady Lunac--the honor is mine!"

Sydb thrusts out the contents of the pouch in front of him to ward off the blow. "I *don't* think so."

The naked picture of Nancy Reagan leaves Sub X gasping for air, sword and shield dropped to the ground and forgotten as he tries to deal with the horror of it all. Sydb coolly picks up the fallen sword and.....


Ow. That was messy.

I feel much better now. Anyway, I'm ready for us to put this solution to work to deal with the Domme F - Sub M ratio. But be warned guys, I fight dirty. Real dirty.

--your snickering semi-friendly moderator
This has been a Too Much Caffeine It Was A Funny Idea At The Time Production.