Dripping Dry Again
I’m a Dominatrix. I train people for a living. I train them to do the most insane unprobable things. And you know what? They do them. Pain? Hypnosis? Coercion? Enticement. I can sum up my subject in a few well placed questions and invoke the proper technique.
* to always wear a certain item when visiting me
* to NEVER wear a certain item with visiting me
* To avoid eye contact
* to only approach me from the left
* to fetishize boots/shoes/heels etc
* enjoy incredibly tight painful nipple clamps
* not to cum unless given permission
* not to cum without feeling guilty and giving me presents *heart*
I was a madwoman when training my dog. Sit. Stay. Be so fucking cute I may die. He does it all. On command.
However. The Mr? I can not train my husband to replace the toilet paper roll. Seriously. If I had a nickel for every time I ran into pee between peeling Monkey off the kitchen counter and pulling him out of the dryer, only to find the fine, feathery remainders of toilet paper clinging to the naked roll, I would have a mighty large shoe shopping dowry. He is so skilled in so many areas, it seems like he should be able to pick this skill as well. As I head off to BlogHer for the next couple days, my main concern is… how is he doing to access the toilet paper? Does he even know where it’s stored? Is he going to have to stop, mid poo, load up the toddler and head down to the store??
How do you train a husband to do this? Do they even have the appropriate equipment? I mean, do their thumbs not do that little thing that you need to do to pop the old roll out?
Please. I’m at a loss.
