I am just going to say here…this is fiction…I know it reads as non-fiction, but I was super-mad with one of Ben’s team who grabbed my behind a few days ago and called me “cutey”. What the hell is the matter with these guys? This is the second time in a year I have had to deal with completely inappropriate behaviour by men under Ben’s supervision. (He later apologises and told Ben he had no idea I was his partner.) But as Ben and I have been pretty inseparable and employ sufficient PDA to make it very clear we are a couple, I was not convinced. So…I thought I would channel my outrage into a fictional rant!
You are perverse and you are the complete utter perversion of everything I would want in a man! I am not your “doll-face” or your “sweet-cheeks” and if you ask me how I like my meat one more time I won’t be responsible for the consequences.
Everything about you drips with sleaze. From your glow in the dark underpants to the crude remarks you leave on my blog. Ben’s already made a habit of trashing your comments, but now I say…you are on another level of perversion.
Please stop trying to pacify me by telling me your favourite colour is pink and your favourite fruit are raspberries. You have offended both me and Ben by your delusional drivel. That’s why you are now blocked and your comments go straight to the spam folder.
You are not my Daddy, or my master, and I certainly would not submit to a barefaced w$%&* with a grotesquely swollen scuzzy limp d$%&* that looks as if it needs some fiercely strong anti-biotics before it shrivels up and turns blue.
There we go – all the anger is out! I can go back to being sweet Miss Pink again!