M is for Morning Mug

“That’s not the mug I set out for you this morning,” you say as you watch me pour the water for my tea.

“Oh? Are you sure? Maybe you just thought that you got out a different one. There are quite a few.”

You look at me all squinty-eyed and suspicious. “Yes, I’m sure. Are you fucking with me?”

“You would know if I were fucking you. Oh, fucking WITH you…. Would I do that?”

“Yes, you would. Often. “

“You are always so suspicious. I can’t help it if you just knew this was the perfect mug for today and set it out without thinking about it.”

“Perfect mug?”

“Of course, silly. I’m always a force to be reckoned with–today just happens to be a more forceful day.”

You look intrigued and a bit apprehensive. “What’s today?”

“Saturday.”

“Thanks. I knew that. What are we doing today?”

“Whatever I want. Duh.”

“Always. However, do I need to do something specific for you today, m’lady?”

“Again, whatever I want. You can start with a trip to the bakery for bagels. Oh, and I set out your “store” attire for you on the bed.”

I watch you head back to the bedroom to put on clothes. I stir my tea and take it to the couch and pick up the TV remote. After about 5 minutes, you come back and head for your keys.

“Just a minute. Inspection time.”

You turn around and come back, unbuttoning and dropping your shorts in front of me. “Turn around,” I say, giving your cage a little tug. After you turn around, I push you forward a bit.

Grabbing the plug I give it a wiggle. “All set?”

“Yes…”

“Good. Now bagels. And then we’ll discuss what you’ll be doing for the rest of the day,” I say as I flash you a glimpse of me under the shirt. “Hurry up. You have quite the busy day ahead of you.”

“And wasn’t it just a stroke of luck that you picked that mug today?”

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