Me: I feel weak.
Master: You know what would make you feel better?
Me: A donut?
Master: No. Clipping my toenails.
A few minutes later, pedicure accomplished, I lowered my head to kiss his feet, as one does. I did not consider the trash can I'd been using for the clippings. The trash can that was sitting right there with half a broken plastic coat hanger sticking out of it at an angle. When I lowered my head my hair brushed up against the hanger, and using its amazing powers of tangle, my hair hung on to it with a death grip.
Master looked down at me.
I looked up at him as the broken coat hanger dangled off the side of my head like festively deranged antlers on Bride of Frankenstein.
He laughed; I laughed.
Yup, that is how it's done. All the sexy here.
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