Bitch for a day

You would think that after many, many failed bets with M that I would have learned my lesson by now, but no. I still feel the need to get up on my high horse and make bets when I think he is wrong and I am right.

I’m usually wrong, of course. Actually, I’m wrong 99.999999% of the time.

Yesterday we were talking about wave rock. I had it in my mind that it was north of Perth because I distinctly remembered bitching and moaning to M about why we didn’t go to wave rock when we visited the Pinnacles. M said that it was east of Perth, heading towards the gold fields.

I said that I would bet that he was wrong and he said, “What are you willing to bet?”

And I said, “I’ll be your bitch for a day if I’m wrong.”

And he said, “So that means nakedness, collar and boots from 9am to 5pm? And you’ll do my bidding all day?”

And I nodded.

And I have shit for brains.

Needless to say, wave rock is east of Perth and this Sunday, I’ll be his bitch for a day.

Wouldn’t it have been fun if he’d lost though??!!! Methinks he wouldn’t make a very good bitch….he moans too much.

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