Waiting game

When it's Friday night. And we have beer and cheese doodles, and the kid is asleep downstairs with grandma. And Mistress decides she wants to work for a little while, and we agree to quit working at eight and then cuddle on the sofa and have our beers.

And she works and works and works and I go take a shower. And wait. And turn on the telly. And it's eight thirty and she says "I'm almost done". Is this when I'm supposed to be a submissive, obedient, humble slave-type and meekly say "Yes Mistress" and be nice about it when she finally arrives, and not make a fuss and be grumpy all evening? It is, isn't it? Damn.

True evil, I tell you!

First, she beats my ass with the very thick rattan 60 times simply because Sweden played Ukraine in soccer and lost with 2-1 last night, and then ten more times really hard just because she wanted to (those I really liked).

And then she went to pick up little S from grandma, and leaves we with an order to keep watching a very old episode from Dallas that's on, simply because she used to watch that all the time when she was little and it makes her nostalgic. At least she allowed me to have the computer on at the same time. But still. Sadist!

But that'sok. I've had two glasses of wine, so on the one hand I can't spell, but then on the other hand, I can stand watching Dallas. Without it, I might have regretted not having a safeword...