Wednesday, January 28, 2015

hole, That's Me.

Some scenes start with a pedicure. 

Well, actually, first there was his lunch.

Then there was his tea.  

On his orders, I fetched down the toenail clipper and file and knelt at his feet wearing my robe (leopard print), my leather collar and wrist cuffs. 

I got his scraggly-scary toenails all fixed up. 

He was doing something on the computer so I started in on my own fingernails, still sitting there on the floor by his feet. 

He stood up.  Moved around behind me.

But you know how your fingernails get those sharp edges after cutting and you just can't quit filing until they are completely smooth?

It was sorta like that.  I was filing.
He was waiting.

I could feel him standing behind me. Waiting.
Just one more second of filing, I thought, almost done.
And one more second.  There is this one little scratchy edge...

He was standing there, not saying a thing, but I could feel him.

I was too slow.
Way too slow.

He had his hand in my collar and was hauling me up by the neck. Semi-strangling, I scrambled.

"I'm done waiting for you, hole."

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