Uncle! Uncle!

We have this heart shaped crop. Except, I don’t think it’s an ordinary crop. It is teh ebils.

I don’t know what the rod of a regular crop is made out of because I’m not quite brave enough to unravel any of Master’s crops to find out. But whatever it is, I don’t think it’s the same thing that this heart crop is made from.

The heart crop’s rod isn’t covered with anything. It’s a metal stick, see? It’s not whippy like his other crops. It’s stiff. Hard.

It hurts.

I remember when we bought it, it was at some seedly little roadside sex shop a couple of years ago. I thought it was “cute”.

Awww, I thought. How sweet. He can make little red hearts on my butt!

I carried it over to him gushing over how cute it was. He rolled his eyes, being the fairly non-romantic kind of sadist that he is, and tossed it on the counter.

Yeah. What a fucking dumbass I am, yanno?

So, he’s been determined to make little heart-shaped bruises with this thing.

I’m here to tell you (and to tell HIM!) that it does not make heart-shaped bruises. It makes bruises plenty; just not heart-shaped ones.

What it does leave is a welt in the shape of the metal rivet in the center of the heart. Tiny little raised red and white circles, and, a day or two later, an ugly green bruise somewhere in the vicinity of where the metal rod snapped under the heart.

But no hearts.

They will not come.

I am crying.. no, I am screaming Uncle!

Here! Here’s your hearts! Now will ya quit already?

~cunt

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