A commercial break

You have just looked up at the clock to realize it is 7:30 pm, and none of your assigned tasks for the day have been done.  The bed is unmade, laundry undone, dishes all over the kitchen, no dinner cooked, body unexercised... and Master's headlights are coming up the driveway too.  You have been sitting at the computer for 10 hours!

You look down.  You are still in a ratty old bathrobe! How awful! You try to run a brush through your hair and accidentally dump over a half full dish of soup over yourself and the kitchen floor.  Master walks in and sees you and the dogs scrambling over the floor trying to clean up the mess.

He looks at Fetlife.  "Two hundred and thirty seven comments you made today and I don't have any hot dinner!"  Master chides. 

He takes you upstairs.  He pushes you to your knees and opens his fly.  You catch strong smell of cunt.  He rubs your face in it, tells you his 22 year old secretary is so much younger and hotter.  He makes you suck her scent off his dick.  

Wouldn't this be a good time for a piece of rhubarb pie? 

Nothing gets the taste of shame and humiliation out of your mouth like Beep Bop Ba Ree Bop Rhubarb pie.

One little thing can revive a guy,
And that is home made rhubarb pie.
Serve it up!  
Nice and hot! 
Maybe things aren't as bad as you thought.  
Master's little slavey loves rhubarb, rhubarb, Beep Bop Ba Ree Bop Rhubarb pie.
Master's little slavey loves rhubarb, rhubarb, Beep Bop Ba Ree Bop Rhubarb pie.

Beep Bop Ba Ree Bop Rhubarb pie and frozen rhubarb pie filling.  Find it at all your finer grocery stores.  Ask for it by name.

(Anecdote not based on real events) 

Thank you Garrison Keillor for the inspiration, and I REALLY hope you don't read my blog.