Page 89 of Waiting Game

KillerCatQueen7: I got a PO Box.

Me: Someone’s eager for gifts.

The thought has me smirking.

KillerCatQueen7: I’m starting to think you’re into FinDom.

Me: Nah, I’m no paypig.

Me: But I can buy you stuff I want to see you use, no?

That’s when the guilt hits.

Gracie’s perfume is still fucking with my sinuses and here I am, trying to send her nemesisgifts!

The situation is so wrong, but it’s like I can see that the only way is down and I’m still helpless to say no.

I know how sailors used to feel when they came across a siren.

Yet here I am, happily wading toward my Gracie-shaped and Mia-shaped demise because if anyone ever finds out about this, I’m fucked on so many levels, there’ll be no saving me.

“At least I’ll die with a smile on my face.”

“Excuse me, Korhonen?”

I clear my throat. “Nothing, Burrows.”

KillerCatQueen7: I’ll take you at your word that you’re not a paypig lol.

Me: You’ve been obsessed with pigs since I told you to watch Black Mirror.

KillerCatQueen7: Ugh, don’t make me think about that damn show. It’s too freaky.

Me: Reality often is :P

KillerCatQueen7: You’re too cheerful about this shit.

Me: Hey, can I help it that I’m cheerful by nature?

KillerCatQueen7: Yes. You can. Especially when bestiality is involved.

Me: Well, I’m not a paypig or into pigs.

KillerCatQueen7: You’ve no idea what a reassurance that is.

KillerCatQueen7: *rolls eyes*

KillerCatQueen7: Bestiality aside, are you going to reveal some grody kink that I can’t handle?

Me: Nah. Nothing grody.

KillerCatQueen7: That comes as a relief.

Me: I live to serve.

KillerCatQueen7: Are you a sub then?

I snort.

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