She'd been complaining earlier that day that her breath was labored. Sometimes, she felt a sudden need to take a very big gulp of air, and when she inhaled, her lungs never felt satisfied. At one point, she stopped in mid-sentence, just to breathe in. Seeing this, i decided to alter the designs i had on the evening, tossing out revisiting the new hood or dipping into our rope supply. Instead, i decided to play a game with my girl.
I'd been out with a friend, going for a 4-mile run, then celebrating our well-winded constitutions with hot wings and a pint. I returned home to a checked-off list of completed chores, finding her seated on our couch, knitting. When i sat next to her, i noticed she'd slid on the thigh-high striped socks i'd purchased for her from American Apparel. This sent a very distinct signal that i happily received.
"What motivated you to wear those?"
"These? Oh, i was cold, and i knew you wouldn't like me wearing pants."
Grrr. Correct answer. She must've known what this was doing to me. She'd gone to the hair salon earlier where she re-dyed her hair a deep, oily black and got it fashionably styled. After such pampering, she always felt frisky. Without much internal discussion, as she purred against my chest, i decided to take the bait.
"Do you like games?"
"Would you like to play a game right now?"
"Yes. I would."
"Sit tight, i'll be right back."
I hopped up from my seat and moved to the rear of the apartment where i gathered the necessary game pieces, strewing them about strategically. Memorizing the location of all implements, i returned to the living room and my patiently purring girl.
"Congratulations! You've advanced to the final round. Come with me."
I grabbed her hand and led her into my study. I extended a finger in the direction of my closet door.
"This is Door #1."
I then pointed at the built-in drawer beneath my semi-closet.
"This is Door #2."
I shuffled us into the hallway and pointed at our closed bathroom door.
"And this is Door #3."
Walking her back to my study, i continued:
"Behind each door, there are three separate* implements with which i will use to swat your behind. Now, which door will you choose!"
She gave it some thought, pausing, letting the moment effervesce into the air.
"Well, for posterity sakes, i think i'll choose...i'll choose door number 3."
Now, before i showed my girl her fate, i knew as i was setting up this stratagem that she would choose "Door #3", so that she had fulfilled my expectations made me incredibly giddy. With great excitement, i anticipated the reaction she would provide once i swung open her chosen portal. I knew imbued with her choice was a sense of victory, but because i'd rigged the game, victory was not hers. Victory was mine.
"Are you ready to see your selection?"
I grasped the brass door knob and twisted it open to reveal the device that would be slashed across her naked flesh. The expected gasp came shortly after.
"Ahhhh! I hate that thing."
I of course knew this. Despite the fact that i'd called it a game, it really was a con, and she was the mark. I grabbed the three meter dowel rod, and moved the game's finale to the bedroom.
*I emphasize "separate". Because my girl reads this site and because i intend on engaging in this game again, i will not divulge the exact weaponry i had laid out. Just know that the deck was stacked heavily in my favor, and that she was certainly not going to 'win' no matter which door she chose. I know...at least i gave her a "choice".