Friday, January 28, 2011

Too late

This morning while doing the white rabbit He emerged, looking much brighter. Which is just as well because work has threatened death and dismemberment if He doesn’t show tonight. Darting past Him to grab something, a hand shot out to deliver a couple of stinging blows to one small slave. What was that for?

Call it a taste of things to come was the reply. For what? Oh you have to ask He said gesturing towards the computer. You can’t punish for the things written in a journal or a blog. It will stifle the creativity, and how will one be able to express how one really feels if there can be retaliation?  An eyebrow shot up to His hairline. It says so on Fet. See that time on there isn’t wasted... its research J

So you would rather I punished you arbitrarily? Nope, you can’t do that either. Otherwise you are doing it wrong. Thinking about making some of the contributors to Fet the Patron Saints of Slaves. What do you think?

He moved with the speed and quiet grace that so many big men possess and grabbed one in a close embrace. Uncomfortably close considering the climate at this time of the year. Before one had time to squirm, His hand rained down on the right arse cheek with fast precision. Well seems they are wrong He said smirking. I can hit you any damn time I please.

Sighs just don’t think He quite gets this at all. Maybe He needs a mentor. Do you think one of the Saints of Fet would take Him on?

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