So there I am, minding my own little nilla business. Doing my Sunday morning stuff. Having a breakfast ‘date’ with my BFF, and then running an errand and scoring on some Christmas markdowns (75 % off! woot!)…and then I see a text from Master has come in.
Now, He’s sent me a lovely morning greeting already.
Good morning nilla-it’s playoff Sunday- and your future O’s are tied into the game.
I’m not sure exactly what I’d texted back since I stupidly deleted my texts (my out box fills up SO fast!)…but it was something like, “oh if the Pat’s score, nilla scores?”
He is a notorious sports junky. And we’re both rabid Patriot fans. So I was pretty confident that the Pat’s would win over Houston today. (Which they did.)
no my silly slut; Houston has to win for you to see/feel another O prior to 1/27.
I read that twice.
Think of it this way-you’re giving up a personal pleasure to support a Pat’s win.
Again, I’m not quite getting it. He’s not really saying what I *think* He is saying….is He?
And I ask.
You’re going to be one horny slut if they win- and if they lose, how could you think of pleasuring yourself when all others around you are severely depressed?
Son of a bitch.
He did mean what I thought He meant.
There was no typo in the text.
My team wins, and I’m *jubilant*…and I also lose.
My team loses…and I’ll be depressed and not feeling like orgasms….
Can I tell you how extremely pleased with this conundrum my Master is? He is patting Himself on the back so hard He might just throw out his shoulder.
Tonight, on the phone (Well, Sunday night, sorry, I keep forgetting you won’t be reading this until Monday!) He was thrilled. Happy, light, ebullient, even. He laughed. He made jokes. He …. He has scored major Dom points…and He could not be happier.
The Patriots won, and move ever closer to the Superbowl. And His somewhat moody slut has been resoundingly put in her place…A Win-Win for Master….He has taken to calling me “nilla the nun”…which I corrected.
“no, Master…really? i’m nilla the n-0-n-e.”
Yes, nilla, you are correct. That’s the “none” with a big NO O in the middle of it, of course.
And He laughs, imagining how the next two orgasm-less weeks will be on me. Verrrrrry difficult. Verrrry horny. Verrrrry needy. I’m not sure I’m gonna make it, 13 days until I see Him for playday, THIRTEEN 0-LESS DAYS!
Of course, I’m going to be hell to manage on the 27th…
We’ll just keep that between us sluts for now, eh?