Poster Couple for FLR Part 3 - She Is not expected to Do or not do what I Require

The FLR Perspective

Oh, yes, I expect certain fringe benefits from this strange relationship, just like any other human male would. I even will get angry, frustrated, and behave in an unsuitable manner when I think that I don’t get my way. But there too, is a sort of safety valve. She can call me on it and hold me accountable for my actions. I, on the other hand, don’t retain that right, and I am fully accountable to her. Why? See "Poster Couple for FLR Parts 1 and 2" for all the reasons. This is a good way to avoid, or at least minimize topping from the bottom. It also lessens the burden and pressure on MW of being the leader in an administrative sense. She is my princess, my queen, my boss, but she is also my wife, my lover, and my sweetheart. And from time to time, my disciplinarian.

Just Bitching about Stuff

It is interesting to note that blogs of FLR, especially WLR, are popping up like mushrooms. It is gratifying to see. It is very much like the feminist movement of an earlier era, and the gay community that came out of the closet. Now it is our turn. Real soon we will be in your face just like them, and people will be sick of it. They will say, ”I don’t care what your kink is, just get it the hell out of my face. FLR pride? Give me a friggin’ break.” Or some such paraphrased remarks.

If you measure the success of a blog by the number of visits, re-visits, or comments on postings, I can tell you what works. It is the blog where the man struggles with his strange kinks, and the wife is not exactly supportive. On the other hand, if all is well, then there really is no need for supportive or warning comments from readers. So, if I were to need the stroking of my ego, I would post writing on my problems, rather than my feelings of satisfaction. Description of an erotic scene works occasionally, but the problem is that there is so much fantasy and pornography out there that writing about real events in our lives, with rare exceptions, don’t have a chance of being appreciated.

In view of that, I could get into the mode of bitching about what I am not getting versus showing my appreciation of what I am actually getting. You may have to settle for some of each.

As I said, MW and I are not exactly the poster couple for FLR. We tend to slip back into the barely there situation. It is still 24/7, and no change of that is anticipated. It’s just that the female domination part becomes low key, and the male servitude with respect to religiously applied house cleaning, etc., slips without punishment. Just like in life, all things go in cycles.

Stuff Happens

I have mentioned my recent submission to hard labor. Alas, it is not MW’s doing. I can do it to myself in the worst way. The work on the roof repair is progressing, but hampered by recent rains that kept me indoors for over a week. You may think of me as a person who is easily intimidated by circumstances, but consider this. The slope of the roof is such that if I slip, there is no stopping until I hit the brick walkway 22 feet below.

I have done work up there before, and I have slipped, but I had the foresight of tying a cheap ass rope around my waist before getting to the edge. The other end of the rope was over the ridge, tied to my truck. Somewhat limiting, looks stupid, is unreliable, but hey, it's me.

Wind does not help, and rain makes useful work infeasible. So it has been only the last few days when I could justify to get up there with a ton of tools to do the deed. Within the last few days I acquired a safety harness that could save my ass from splattering below. I might still bang my head on a hard surface on the way down, but at least my fall would be arrested a few feet above the pavement, and the paramedics would not need to scrape me off the bricks.

Up there I need to move heavy concrete tiles, rip off strips of wood that hold them on, replace tarpaper, apply roofing cement to rips and holes, then put them all back the way they should be. It is hard work to say the least. If I don't do it right, all the effort will have been wasted. Full time adrenaline pumping due to the potential of disaster is making me prematurely old. The only positive aspect is the excellent view of the neighborhood and our mountain. Then again I could just step out onto the third floor deck at the same level and have a similar view but without the danger. I could be sipping wine while sitting there admiring the wiew into the neighbours' yards, So this is not really that justifiable.

The picture here gives you an idea. I would have posed on the top, but I could not do so on account of I was taking the picture when MW was away visiting her friends. The distortion is an artifact of my cheap cell phone camera.





The next picture was taken with our real camera by MW after she returned from her visit with friends. You can see me on the third level of the four level platform when I am trying to fix it from the side-to-side wobble that gave me the creeps. I hate being at heights.



Finally, I show a third picture with details of the partly completed repairs. The view over the ridge, the tiles, and the underlayment gives you an idea of what was involved.

“Why don’t you hire a professional?”

you ask. I have tried. They take one look at the house and the roof, and leave laughing. On a couple of occasions I managed to hire some desperate roofers. Alas, they did not know their ass from a hole on the roof. I paid, the roof continued to leak. Back to self induced repair.
Then there is the real estate project that MW started. It is now almost entirely in my lap. So, as you can assume, my slippage of FLR housemaid servitude has been hijacked to an extent. I am still willing, but I am really dragging my ass after work. MW is letting me get away with that. I would still enjoy some examples of her assertiveness, but I think that she too is feeling the strain. On the positive side, I have fewer opportunities to snack, so the expansion of my waistline is also on hold. Add to that trying to deal with helping family who are not exactly where they think they should be add another challenge. Of course, income tax time is approaching, so I need to attend to that. Would not it be nice if, way back, I said to MW,

"Dear, I am tired of fucking with all this. Here: it’s yours. You take over, manage all this, and dominate me in the bedroom and in the living room closet (or such). I will wash the dishes and rub your feet. You will love it.”

I wonder where we would be now?

Note: Although I commented about two other pictures above, you no longer see them because I removed them. They were fine pictures, but too close to home.