My name is Sarah and I am a 35 year old female supremacist married to a guy called Toby, who is 40 years old. We have been married for 8 years and live a comfortable life in East Anglia. I am a corporate lawyer and work in the city and my husband works in one of my mother's hair stylists as a receptionist and maker of hot drinks. He sometimes also washes the hair of clients, under supervision of course, by one of the Hair Stylists.
I married Toby as I was invited more and more to some very high end events and it was thought a good idea to have a trophy husband to accompany me and to amuse me. Toby is very handsome but is exceedingly under educated, you could call him the equivalent of a bimbo. He is a charming companion and knows how to engage in small talk, he can talk about anything from politics to religion to hemlines and the latest in make up. I have lots of fun with Toby but he knows that ours is a female led marriage.
I own the house and the shares and savings and earn a 7 figure sum with an 8 figure annual bonus. Toby does the housework, the gardening, food shopping, washing and ironing and food preparation. He is the perfect housewife. I am so proud of the way he has taken to his role in our family.
Let me start by describing my life growing up in a female supremacist household.
My dad's name is Jack, but we called him Boy....that is me, my mother, Amelia, and my little sister, Rachel. When I came home from school I would leave my school-bag in the hallway and wander into the kitchen to say hello to Boy and get a drink of milk and a cookie. When I entered Boy would turn to face me and curtsey and wait for me to acknowledge him and and get me my snack and take my school-bag up to my bedroom.
I didn't have much interaction with Boy but sometimes I would chat to him and tell him about my day. This was girlie talk which he loves and he would ask about all the gossip.
My mommy would arrive about six pm from her job as a Hair Stylist, she had just one shop back then, and talk to me and Rachel about our day and our schoolwork.. Boy would announce dinner is served and proceed to serve us three in the dining room, he always ate in the kitchen. Sometimes, on his birthday he was allowed to have a post-dinner cup of tea with us, but this didn't always happen even then. It depended on whether he had been naughty or lazy or disobedient.
I had a happy childhood and learnt how to navigate the world and control the help, such as Boy.