Ah ! If only the world had experienced female domination... If at least we, arrogant men full of our stiff attribute, had given a little break to femininity. If we had let it invest those fields that we dominate without sharing : politics, social organisation, industry and science...

By keeping the female kind under submission, stuck to her knickers and cooker, we have wasted so many opportunities to moderate our devastating ambitions, our steadfast spirit of conquest, which put up so well with bloodshed. Oppressed at all time by men, women never could append their mark on the running of human affairs.

And that is a shame, you say.

Men are bloody, women are mothering. Men are impulsive, women are realistic, considerate. Yes women are forever social workers : solicitude, ears for others, sweetness... the touch of gentleness missing to our rough world !

A place run across by curtains and hangings finely hemmed with lace. A canopied bed covered with silk sheets seems to be there waiting for your shattered body.

While sitting on the bed sheets, you carry on pondering over women's disability needing to be defended... To save us, males, against ourselves. To save us from destruction !

Suddenly five made up and leather girdled female creatures turn up in the room. They rush down on you and tear up what is left of your clothes. Then they put you down on the bed. And held down by the wrists and the ankles by four of them, you are slashed over with a crop. While one is pulling your hair the other slaps you in the face with all her strength.

Bearing in mind all the millenniums of unfair treatment, unjustified slavery, you think that it is time to reverse the situation.

True ! You are a feminist. So what... The least we owe to women is some excess in consideration for all we have done to them in the past.
Convinced that your new mission is to support women's rise, to break the humiliation caused by thousands of years of alienation, you carelessly move towards a purple and pink kind of alcove.

With a sudden burst of energy you struggle away and run straight to the door in front of you. But what a surprise when you meet at the other side a bunch of vixens ready to castrate you.

" There he is ! " one yells.
An other :
– We won't let you get away, Sweetie !
– You gonna pay for your impudence. Fire ! "

If you thought that women never had their part in male domination, if you thought that they were defenceless, anyhow, this is not the case in hell... You jump out from a balcony and run for it like a hounded hare. Bullets are flying around you.

What is this obscure vault you've entered ? Mighty armoured female warriors appear all around you. They move with grace and agility that have nothing to envy from swordsmen. You can not believe, like you have always naively done before, that seduction is the only subversive weapon owned by women in this world. For in that part of Hell they are as aggressive, violent and powerful as they are beautiful.

There are neither Hermione nor Medea before your eyes. Down here, their hate of male impetuosity shares nothing with the silent bitterness and patient determination that go with the abandoned wives' revenge and that make it such a cold dish to enjoy. They are hot-blooded Pétroleuses.

You run naked, chased by these amazons. But without seeing it coming, the furious crowd drives you back to the edge of a precipice.

Your run is stopped dead and you very nearly fall down the cliff. A swift movement to stand your chest upright prevents the fall, but as you turn round, you see a semicircular gang of women closing up on your poor anatomy. They are going to chop your counter-nature appendix off... They are going to castrate you !