All I want is a boy somewhere
Far away from the city square
Tied down across a chair –
Aow, wouldn’t it be loverly?
Lots of choc’lates for me to eat,
Whip in hand for his own hot treat.
Thrashed arse, he’ll beg at feet
Aow, wouldn’t it be loverly?
Aow, so loverly…
Standin’ abso-bloomin’-lutely still.
Scared to move, so the pail don’t spill;
His pleading, high and shrill,
Aow, wouldn’t it be loverly?
Someone restin’ across my knee,
Warm an’ tender as ‘e can be.
Who’s scared to death of me,
Aow, wouldn’t it be loverly?
Loverly!
Loverly.
Loverly!
Loverly….
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Those eyes. I could just drown in those eyes, couldn’t you? |
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Huh. Brad! It’s been ‘Brad this’ and ‘Brad that’ ever since he arrived. Frankly, I am seriously considering giving him notice. It’s not as if we need a pool boy anyway, not having a pool. |
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It’s funny to think, really, that you’re just about the only man she encounters most days who isn’t begging at her feet for mercy! You probably help her keep a sense of perspective – and that’s very important, for someone with a job they really love. |
If you like Cruella, you’ll probably love The British Institution. I do. Both.
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Damn… I was really looking forward to November. |
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Actually, most chastity belts are massively over-engineered. What might feel like irresistible pressure really hardly puts it under strain at all. I mean, steel’s pretty tough. So don’t worry, OK? |