I dreamed last night that The Frenchman came to me and wanted to serve me — not as a boyfriend or lover, just as a submissive, although he certainly acted like the former. He proudly presented to me this really obnoxious gift: a “bondage” outfit that was just a gigantic buckskin skirt with a very long, bushy fox tail tacked to the back. I couldn’t believe how tacky it was. (And the furry fetish wasn’t lost on me.) He’d forgotten to take off the price tag. It was $800!
I held it up to myself and said, “Oh, gee, it’s much too big for me. You’ll have to return it.”
He looked a bit crestfallen, his great gift rejected. But then I smiled with mischief and said, “You know what I really want?” His eyes widened and he shook his head. “An iPad,” I said.
Hey. Dipshit bought me an $800 buckskin thing with a furry fetish attachment. (EW!) He could totally take that back and get his mistress something useful.
(For those who don’t know, The Frenchman is an old boyfriend with whom I moved to France for a year and enjoyed great adventures. I don’t miss him. But I do miss France.)