Friday Night Burger

It’s a Friday evening, and Ms Mukta madam is seated on top of me on the stocks tucking in to a tasty hamburger prior to meeting up with her husband, master Simon sir, in the town centre in order to catch a movie at the multiplex cinema.

I haven’t eaten or drunk anything for two days – but she doesn’t care about that. She is much more concerned that I don’t spill her drink which she has balanced, somewhat precariously, on top of my head. She urges me to keep my head bowed and perfectly still and suggests that I concentrate on her black sock, as any spillage of her drink will, she informs me, lead to me being severely punished!

Needless to say, I obey Ms Mukta and, banishing all thoughts of hunger and thirst from my mind, focus on her sock.

What do you think she should do to me if I were to inadvertently spill her drink?












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