One thing I didn't expect for Christmas was a slave. He wasn't on my Xmas list but nevertheless, I have a slave.He's helpfully called James, and is terribly keen to do anything I ask him to do.
Lee finds it hilarious. "You apologise when people ask you for the correct change."
The situation is very puzzling. He's the seemingly shy young student I met at Central Station. It all started with a text message, "What are you into?"
I just didn't seem to be able to give him the answer he wanted. And then, all of a sudden, he cracked and said, "I want to be treated really badly by you. I'm a slave. I just don't think it's your thing, though."
This was a challenge. I can be aggressive. And nasty. And really quite strong-willed. Surely. I can be a master. Oh yes. Grr.
I mean, I own a whip (admittedly, I brought it simply cos it was in a sale, and I thought it was hilarious to say "Can I buy this whip on switch?"). I'd never dreamt of using it for anything other than dusting, but perhaps its time has come.
Hey-ho. It's all good fun, I suppose. The thing I was worried about was exactly what to do with him, but luckily he has lots of suggestions. Although, I really must stop saying "Goodness, are you sure?"
The phone calls are the oddest. He'll ring and announce some incredibly painful new thing he's doing and ask my opinion. "Oh... yeah... well do it some more, and quite a bit harder," seems to be the safest thing to say (I'm working at lowering my voice for this).
And some of the stuff I've managed to deflect, for the moment. I mean, really, why would I when I have a perfectly functioning lavatory?
So far, the only foot I've really put wrong is to say, "But really, wouldn't you rather just kiss?"
9 comments:
How, pray tell, would you know what "burning dogs" smell like? lol
How, pray tell, would you know what "burning dogs" smell like? lol
How, pray tell, would you know what "burning dogs" smell like? lol
Jesus man, what have you got yourself into now?
Get him to do the Christmas shopping. Oxford Street at this time of year is torturous.
Oh, now that's a brilliant idea. I've also got a couple of things to exchange at Ikea, and it would be ever so handy if he sent out my Christmas cards.
I'd quite fancy having a slave, actually - 'twould be a great way to make sure that all the housework gets done.
Don't worry Gary - I'll just have to get used to the jokes about my slave-ownership. After all, it does have its benefits.
And yeah - t'other James, I really should see if i can set him on practical chores. I've never quite got the hang of ironing a shirt.
A slave!
Surely you picked up a few tips while dealing with the locals in India?
I am a little galley slave to pen and ink, so I decided to write with a few tips of my own.
Have you considered looking at Pride and Prejudice for inspirational ideas? You can’t begin to imagine the delights this book will offer! Why, in the first chapter alone, the dialogue between the long-suffering Mrs Bennett and her cruel husband:
“How can you abuse your own children in such a way!” she cries, before going on, “You take delight in vexing me! You have no compassion for my poor nerves!” finishing with a despairing cry of “Aaaaah! You do not know what I suffer!”
Why, so much potential enjoyment awaits for your own slave in the delivery of such lines. But is he capable of playing that part, as described by Ms Austen? That is to say, is your slave a character ‘of mean understanding, little information and uncertain temper’? For that matter, are you ‘so odd a mixture of quick parts, sarcastic humour, reserve, and caprice’?
If that exercise fails to please either of you, or your slave prefers to try something a little more contemporary, I understand that Ms Britney Spears performs a song called ‘I’m a slave 4 U’ which is a shamelessly terrible rip-off of Prince’s naughtiest nonsense. Perhaps you might make your own slave re-enact her performance from the music video? That should cause enough embarrassment and pain to highly amuse both of you. If your slave tires of that song on repeat, crack that whip and tell him he’s supposed to suffer… bearing in mind that there are several other bad rip-off Prince songs to be played, or indeed cover versions; ‘Kiss’ by Tom Jones inflicts greater pain upon me than any other.
Last words, dearest Gertie… one has been highly entertained by you for the last several months; expect a fairer share of comments in the future.
Oh, you deserve to have a fabulous new year. (Don’t repeat that to the slave, for goodness sake!)
Post a Comment