Friday, November 14, 2008
‘Boudoir Boys’
A poster on Fumika Misato’s original husbands’ forum playfully referred to fellow wife-worshippers who were trading tips on giving pedicures and such as “boudoir boys.” In that eccentric all-male aggregation, the apparent insult was intended, and taken, as high compliment.
I am reminded of the late George Sanders,* an English actor (actually of Russian birth) known for his “his suave, snobbish, and somewhat menacing air” (e.g., Addison DeWitt in All About Eve) and his celebrity marriage, back in the ‘50s, to Hungarian glamour queen Zsa Zsa Gabor (great aunt and prototype of Paris Hilton, another blonde famous mostly for being famous).
(* For younger readers, it was Sanders who supplied the languidly menacing voice of Kaa in Disney’s Jungle Book, performed at a single cold reading, as I was once informed.)
No boudoir boy, Sanders is said to have been terminally annoyed when he learned, after marrying the drop-dead gorgeous actress, just how many intensive hours she required at her vanity table prior to going out.
A wife-worshipping husband, I assure you, would yield such a magnificent creature as much time as she required. Indeed, he would request a ringside seat to observe the goddess at work. He might even seek to be a “part of the process,” as you will read.
As I wrote in Chapter 5 of my book, “Pampering and Pitching In,” “There are manly guys who draw their wife’s bath. Who shampoo her hair. Who loofah her skin and even shave her legs. Who give facials while she luxuriates in the suds. And who are ready with a warmed, fluffed towel to enfold her as she emerges, a dripping Venus, from the bath. Who are rewarded with the further privilege of drying and powder-puffing her skin, or massaging it with moisturizing creams. And who, later, lovingly brush her hair, the traditional hundred strokes.”
As one husband succinctly put it: “Through pampering my wife I am brought close to the center of the feminine mystery, intoxicated by it, overwhelmed by her.”
That’s about as far as you can get from the ‘50s-era stereotypical husband afraid of venturing into the estrogen-filled zone of milady’s boudoir. But a husband can turn, or be turned, rather quickly from one type husband into the other, according to a woman signing herself “Cindy B.” (in a letter to Elise Sutton’s Female Superiority website):
“A common male complaint is how long it takes their wives to get ready and how frustrated they become having to wait. Never mind the fact that we are making ourselves beautiful for them. The male nature is an impatient nature. What men need to realize is that most of us women don’t know for sure how long it’s going to take, so when we say it will be five minutes, a man should not take us so literally.
“What right does a man have to bitch about how long his goddess takes to make herself beautiful? My husband would develop an attitude when my five minutes at the makeup table turned into a half-hour and I had to rush. I always felt rushed. Now, thanks to female domination, I have rectified the situation…
“I will shower and dress in only bra and panties and call my husband into the bedroom. I put him across my lap and give him a sound spanking with my hairbrush. As I do this, I remind him that I am his goddess and that he is blessed to live with a goddess. I make him reaffirm his devotion to me and I ask me if he is going to wait patiently for me while I finish getting ready…
“By doing this I am teaching him patience. He is not permitted to watch television or get on the computer or talk on the phone. He has to sit in the chair and watch his goddess finish her hair, put on her makeup, get dressed, select her jewelry and try on different shoes. My husband is now part of the process, and I will ask him which shoes he likes the best…
“This routine has caused a real renewal in passion and romance.”
Another wife accomplished almost the same result, without recourse to her hairbrush, as this ardent husband testifies: “Saturday morning after she showered, she called me in and said, ‘You may watch me put on makeup and blow dry my hair if you wish.’ I do love that, I have always stolen glances just to watch her do that! To me, a woman doing that is so feminine, erotic and powerful.”
Both these guys are mainly there as idolators and voyeurs, though Cindy B does consult her husband’s opinion on various apparel items. But some husbands are privileged to take a much more active part in “the process”:
“My wife came into the bedroom and sat at her dressing table to apply her makeup. She was wearing a silk robe that I had hung in the bathroom that morning. As she applied her makeup, she noticed that there was a chip in the polish on one of her toes. ‘I don't have time for a pedicure now, but fix that chip for me while I finished my makeup.’ I found the polish and first cleaned the old polish from that one toe and then applied a new color and topcoat. And then I remained at her feet…”
“Do you have your husband give you a manicure and pedicure?” one matriarchal wife advises another, new to the lifestyle. “Does he blow dry your nails with his breath? Have you sent him to beauty school so he is at least as good as the local beautician? Do you have him run your bath, bathe you, and shave your legs? Does he warm your towels for your exit from your bathe? Do you have him clean your makeup brushes and jewelry? Hand-launder your hosiery, panties and lingerie? Keep your clothes closet in order?”
Sending hubby to beauty school idea may seem, at first blush, far-fetched, but from the message board and newsgroup postings I’ve collected over the years, it seems a not uncommon occurrence.
The cosmetic arts, in fact, constitute only part of the domestic curriculum in which men are being enrolled by enterprising wives. “I have had my husband take classes in skin care, beauty and make-up, and cooking,” a wife confides to Elise Sutton, “all to make his personal services better and more to my liking. He now does my nails, takes care of my hair, and does my make-up each morning.”
Katherine West, a female supremacist who blogs intermittently at Loving Female Authority, took charge of her hubby’s boudoir training herself: “First he learned to bathe me, shave my legs, and paint my toe and fingernails. Next I started teaching him how to apply my makeup and brush my hair. I allowed him to trim and shape my pubic nest. He took to his new submissive role like a duck to water.”
Other anxious-to-please husbands use magazines to acquire their skill set in the feminine arts, like this enterprising individual:
“I canceled my subscriptions to Field and Stream and Sports Illustrated and replaced them with Cosmo and Glamour. I've learned about makeup, fashion, and hairstyles and patiently accompany my wife as she shops for pretty clothes, helping her pick out sexy lingerie, dresses, and heels…”
And, within the pseudonymous sanctuary of online FLR sites, these guys like to vie for bragging rites about which one performs the most intimate services for his queen. Some provocative examples:
“Beauty care for my wife includes getting and giving bath, brushing hair, doing makeup and nails, laying out and assisting in dressing her.”
“My Mistress requires me to massage her feet, paint her toenails and shave her legs. Occasionally she has me bathe her.”
“As she sits at her dressing table blow-drying her hair, I start to massage body cream into her shoulders and back. I'll then drop to my knees and massage her legs and feet, while she's still doing her hair. When she gets up she usually allows me a brief kiss of her pubic area followed by a quick lick of her rear. I then thank her. Oh, how I love it!”
Sounds like they get pretty carried away, doesn’t it? Listen to this husband: “I'm going crazy, giving her footrubs, of watching her try on new dresses, watching her put on her make-up in the morning, watching her do her fabulously thick and rich hair....”
Or this one: “I kneel next to the tub and begin to bathe my wife as I have done so many times before. I try to remain calm as I run the sponge and soap over her back, breasts and legs as she relaxes.”
Well, this guy may TRY to remain calm, but there may be not-so-subtle visual clues to what’s going on inside the kneeling bathboy, as this wife observes: “My husband gets rock hard as he bathes me.”
Fdhousehusband, who blogs at her housband’s life and is one of my mentors, offers this advice to husbands embarking on wife-led marriages: “Help Her dress and undress each day.”
For those Neanderthal types who presume to scold their mates for logging too much time at the dressing table, fd is torn between pity and contempt:
“i always laugh when i see TV shows, films and even my male friends impatiently waiting at the door for their Wives to finish dressing and yelling out something about ‘being late.’ i think to myself, ‘Why isn't he helping Her?’ One of my important jobs is to help Her get dressed each time She heads out the door and to reverse the process when She comes home. my assistance saves Her precious minutes from Her busy day and makes myself useful. And besides, i get to enjoy this very special and intimate contact with Her!”
Another of my wife-worship mentors, Au876, obviously concurs, offering this encouragement to would-be “boudoir boys”: “Fold her nightgown every morning. Make sure you clean her vanity area, her hairbrush, her hair rollers and do this every day, not just once a week. Rub her feet every night, check her toenails for rough spots and repair as necessary. A pedicure every ten days or so is not enough. Wash her stocking and hang them to dry where they are not in her way.”
But I yield the last word to a woman, posting under the cyber-title of Goddess Christine: “Treat your partner like the Queen that she is. Honor her and worship her. You don't know just how lucky you are.“
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