Today is my slave, kinkmogul
I did very poorly in celebrating this fact. I am a bad Master. I didn't send flowers, or gifts, or even a card. I am the suck.
But when the foundation of your relationship was built on the slave buying things for the Master, is my lameness canceled out by simply continuing the basic core of our relationship?
Perhaps this is the best birthday present of all. Depersonalization through a LJ post.
I think I just managed to make a birthday wish and a LJ post kinky. Two birds, one stone.
Pssst. Love you. Mean it.
It's a gorgeous day out in NYC. It's teasing me with hints of spring. I want to celebrate my slave's birthday by having a scandalous romp in Central Park with a beautiful belle. It would be the perfect tribute for my lover of the world - to embrace animal passion while risking embarrassment. Too bad I'll be cooped up in my office until sundown instead. But I know where my mind will be.
Also, I must register a complaint. I must register a complaint with the trends in women's footwear during the past year or so. Because for some reason, flats with a generous amount of the top of the foot exposed have come into major style.( Collapse )
These shoes, and the thousands of different varieties just like it, are the bane of my existence.
You see, you know
full well that there are bare feet in these shoes. No socks, no mini-stockings, nothing. And you know
full well that slipping these shoes off would be no more difficult than bending one's foot at the ankle. Just a little shift in angle and pop
, off the shoe would go. One would think that a foot fetishist would be in heaven due to the sheer enormous possibility of random foot popping
viewing goodness everywhere.
But no. Because it never
happens! Ever! These shoes, and its evil ilk, are apparently so comfortable, so enveloping, that they never come off. Not once have I seen a beautiful foot slip out of them like one often does with heels, or sandals. Not once have I gotten that lovely glimpse of heel and toes slowly sliding out of them, or perish the thought, a nice exposed sole as the leg and calf flips backward. Not Once.
I hate these shoes. I hate that they are so comfortable. Damn you shoemakers! Damn you!
OK, I'm done now. Thanks.