Driving Your Master’s Cadillac back from work, celebrating that you have just sold your online shoe business for 2 billion dollars, celebrating that you have met the criteria for a cover page in Forbes magazine, celebrating that you can materialize your dream vacation with Your Master, a tour in space.
The initial excitement gradually simmered down when you areat home, parking your car in Your Master’s man cave, a cave full of repair tools, hammers, rulers and ropes, construction workers name it, he have it…you think.
Get off Your Master’s Cadillac, button off your bespoke tuxedo suit, button of your dress shirt, button off your business pants, fold all of them nicely to the dry cleaning machine. You enter your house with only a silk jockstrap made by Magic Silk, a lust tie that has just finished its purpose of power and a key necklace which exists as your wedding ring with Your Master, he also has one to your chastity cage which became a part of your life after your marriage.
Sneaking into your living room, you see Your Master napping with his silk robe that you bought him as a birthday present in 2009 on a sofa. In his state it seems that Your Master just come home from his weekly shopping trip from Tesco, and would cooking dinner today.
Looking at Your Master sleeping and his dick stood out like a jewelled staff makes you horny, but tired as well. So you sneak towards him and beside Your Master, carefully touching his dick and lightly scratch 3 times in his cockhead, signalling that his sub is home safe and sound. Your Master open his eyes, kissing softly in your lips and smiled as you have a nap with him.
Fast forward 3 hours later, both of you are eating dinner, while talking about the things that both of you done today, business, workouts, shopping and celebration. Your Master praised you for your business success, except that you should haggle of another half a billion. You praised Your Master for his Thai inspired dinner for 2, except for the fact the prawns are a little tough.
At around 7, both of you are now sitting on the sofa again, talking, negotiating, arguing, negotiating, talking to agreeing about how should both of you celebrate: BDSM (too basic for Your Master), cruising in a public park (too vulgar for you), shopping (too repetitive for Your Master) and watching a porno movie (too cold for you). Finally, both of you agree upon how to celebrate, an art gallery (yeah, don’t really ask how both of you manage to agree on this when both of you are supposedly horny for each other today).
Dress up in a way that both of you won’t get noticed, get into Your Master’s Cadillac (You are the driver) to the art gallery. The theme is coincidentally space, as in outer space.
The paintings are mostly made of oil in canvas, where the artist explained that she wanted to evoke and design around the caveman era’s, what she thinks about what the cavemen think about outer space in general.
Navigating and judging quietly around the paintings with Your Master (amidst all differences, both of you admitted that the context feels like a stereotypical 50s movie and the quality is way better than the price range), signifying about a life on an family (1 dad, 1 mom, 1 son and 1daughter) encountering and surviving an alien invasion, you suddenly stop,looking at 1 painting that resonates with you.
The name of the painting is #32: Reconnection, it is about the son, shaking his hands with an equally similar size alien. But both of them didn’t see eye to eye, instead, they see 2 clothes of different colours glowing and connecting together, one white with spots of grey from the son and one with a muddled brown from the alien. There are other elements with the berries rolling off the plate and the other family members rushing towards him. But the cloth is the thing that the artist wants us to focus on.
You Master lightly massages your shoulder, and the painting is sold to you in a surprising 1000 dollars (in fact, it is the cheapest painting for the night) from the art gallery. It is the only painting that you bought for the night.
Fast forwards 2 hours later of chatting (with people that didn’t scream money) and eating more snacks, both of you are now in bed, with you sticking out your ass in front of Your Master’s, being played like a bongo drum with a special recording that says: “Thank You Master.”
Smack, Smack, again and again, until both of you acknowledge the tiredness that both of you are getting, and you lied down in your belly with a monkey ass to be seen, thinking about where the painting shall be hanged, the living room, the bedroom or the garage.
While Your Master grumble at his cock, locked in an elastic plastic tube with carefully crafted rocks glued onto it, don’t judge, it is for a perfect monogamous relationship.
That’s what Your Master get for choosing an art gallery over a BDSM party, now both of you are locked horny for another day.