A few days ago, Master and I discussed Christmas gifts. We talked about gifts for our kids, then I asked Him what He wanted. I asked because while I know some of the items on His list, they are rather ordinary in nature, and I want to get Him something fun. Right away He tells me what "fun" gift He wants: a cell popper. My immediate response was "No." He laughed at my "No," the kind of laugh that says, "Too bad, girlie, your vote doesn't count."
For those who don't know, a cell popper, to the best of my knowledge, is a device that burns the skin one cell at a time, so that a pattern or design can be created on the recipient's skin. You can read about them here, the only place He's found that sells them. He really, really wants one. Me, not so much. But He has this thing about my skin, marking it, sometimes drawing a little blood. He managed to do this with the Wartenberg wheel one time. Once he read about the cell popper, His evil little mind decided that would be a GREAT way to mark my skin.
My counter-suggestion (because a good slave is always prepared with a back-up plan), was a trip to the Big City to visit our favorite BDSM oriented adult store. It's a wonderful little store where they make their own floggers, canes, paddles, straps, crops, collars, and nice selection of clothes and toys. I sweetened the offer by telling Him that He could chose whatever He wanted; a new paddle, a strap, a crop, His choice. Wasn't that nice of me? I thought so. He said He would think about it.
He better think fast--only 13 days until Christmas. My guess is the cell popper will be ordered, and we will take a trip to the Big City. I spoil Him so.