Friday, 17 August 2012

Fifty Sheds of Grey(ish) Fur

Above are the instruments of torture that my mistress used on me last night.  My inner intestines are doing star-jumps just thinking about it.  I lay stretched out as she pushed the brush through the luxurious fur along my back and purred loudly.  When she tried to use the comb however it was too intense and I boxed with my back legs to get my mistress to remove the offending item.  My claw wedged in her tracksuit bottoms pulling the waistband down slightly so that they hung on her hips 'just so'.  However, worse was to come.  As I lay there triumphing in my victory over the removal of the comb I heard a loud snapping sound and a pungent smell of chemicals.  'Horrors', I thought she is trying to anoint me with that foul flea treatment.  I fled at once closely pursued by my mistress.  I tried to distract her with my penetrating blue eyes but my valiant efforts were thwarted.  Even my safe word of 'Lick E Lix' failed as I was pinned down and the noxious liquid applied.

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