Pretty Boy is over an hour late. He just texted that he is just now getting out of the shower and will call in a minute. I have a good mind to meet him at the door in a pair of latex boots, thigh-high stockings and wielding a riding crop or my brand new one-inch-thick olive-wood paddle. I'm afraid I might scare the poor young thing. I told him that I am waiting and getting VERY impatient. I am not happy with Pretty Boy's lack of punctuality. He will be punished. I will have to be careful though, he's not accustomed to my particular brand of discipline. Baby steps... I will try to get photos.
More later.
UPDATE: Pretty Boy is on the verge of being fired. I am growing tired of his antics. There is something fishy going on there.
I have tentative plans with The Colonel on Monday. I am otherwise engaged with other (read ordinary) pursuits this weekend. I may be spending some time with the female end of the couple on Saturday. It's time to draw her out of that shell. As for The Prig, he remains elusive. He does hold himself in high esteem. Maybe it's time to put him back in his place. It would have been fairly easy with Pretty Boy on my arm. Hmmm. Time to find a replacement for Pretty Boy.
Tic toc, it's getting late. I look forward to a rousing start to the work week next week. The Colonel is practically salivating.
2 comments:
It almost sounds like he's getting rewarded by being an hour late.
Since he never appeared, he gets nothing. And he will get nothing in the future.
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