This morning I made breakfast for him with a clothespin on my twat. Sausage, cheese burrito with salsa.
Also, I'm wondering what his co-workers must think of me now. First he told them all about the whole potato fiasco (I know, I know, I never wrote about it).
Short version: he told me to make breakfast potatoes, and even had me start them the night before so they were all boiled. In the morning I forgot all about it. I made pancakes instead. He was most disappointed. Derp.
He told people at work how upset he was with me, and they all thought he was terrible, I guess. I wasn't there. Now, in my world, failing to carry out a direct order is pretty upsetting, no matter what the reason. I was quite unhappy that I hadn't done what he wanted.
But since they don't get me, don't get us, they didn't understand.
Actually, Mystique said I could come live with her and make her any breakfast I wanted (Master brought it up to her, not me!), and she DOES get us. But anyway, maybe she doesn't as much as I thought, because I was truly guilty that I had made the wrong breakfast. Or maybe she just wants a live in slave to make her food.
Then Master's co-workers were talking about Fifty Shades of Grey yesterday. I don't even know how that came up, but evidently Master told them that I read all the books. He didn't admit to anything specific, but somehow they ended up asking HIM the questions, like "What does BDSM even mean?" He may or may not have invited them to visit his "red room of pain". It's hard to tell when he's being serious. BTW we just have a regular room of pain (AKA bedroom), there is nothing red about it.
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