Day 14 of continual rain in Perth and what does a girlie do to cheer herself up?
I think I have a wee addiction to buying boots:
Disturbingly enough I went shopping for jeans and tights and somehow came home with boots. I’m guessing this is some sort of indication of the penetration of Master’s boot indoctrination into my brain.
Quite simply, I knew I *needed* to buy boots so I spent a great deal of time wandering from shoe shop to shoe shop looking specifically for boots. Then, when it came close to the time I was supposed to go and meet Master, I started panicking because I hadn’t yet found suitable boots i.e. pointy toe, stiletto heel, at least knee-high. Even though he hadn’t told me to buy a pair, even though he hadn’t even mentioned boots, I wanted to buy something to please him a.k.a. slut boots.
But in the last shop I went into, there was the perfect pair. The last pair of their type, for less than half price. I barely even put them on my foot before handing over the money and racing back to the coffee shop where Master was waiting. I put them on again when we got home and they fit perfectly and are my comfiest pair of boots yet! It was almost like the universe was waiting for me to buy those boots. Mmm…karma boots.
Before we left for the shops, there had been a bit of a ‘jeans incident’. Basically, I’m not allowed to wear jeans or pants or anything that hinders access to his cunt. In fact, I haven’t worn anything but skirts (except when I’ve had dispensation) since I came here. But I’ve been wanting a pair of jeans recently for no other reason than I want to know what size I can fit in to. I want some skinny jeans! Which, on a thirty-two-year-old-henny-penny-chick, may be a bit inappropriate, but I don’t care. I want some skinny jeans!
So I dusted off my old pair of jeans that were hiding in the back of the wardrobe, put on my war-paint and prepared to go out amongst the minions of Perth’s outlet shops. Obviously, Master was neither impressed that I was wearing jeans or that I’d put them on without first seeking dispensation. After a bit of whining explaining that it was cold and jeans were a logical choice and the comment from Master that I had better ‘slut-offset my jeans by getting some whore-horn-bag tights’ ala carbon-offsetting so that the slut quotient of his life would be unaltered, we left the house and he went to his job interview while I did the hard yakka of shopping.
So I didn’t end up buying jeans or tights, but I did buy boots and a cool cap in the style that I’ve been lusting after since I first watched Pretty Woman oh-so-many years ago (yes, I also went through a jacket with jeans phase after watching that movie, but didn’t every one?)
Master even approved of the boots which was great. They’re not exactly in ‘slut boot’ territory owing to the fact that the heel isn’t high enough, but they did make it into the ‘nice day boots category. So even though I had a bit of a shopping-fail on what I wanted to buy, at least one of us was happy (and yeah, I was happy because he was happy and so forth and so on…)
(Note to self: don’t atttempt to buy skinny jeans at an outlet shop because the only cheap ones will be four sizes too small or four sizes too big because obviously they are the ones that don’t sell and therefore get shoved off to the outlet.)