In the air, flying home with a whip and a chair

There’ll be too many leaves in the pool, which’ll be the color of strong tea. The lawn will need mowing. Trees will need felling. I’ll need to build a bigger woodshed. I’ll have to do paid work. Quite a lot of it. 

Submissive women will need to be handled with a whip and chair. I haven’t written about my travels while I’ve been having them but I’ve seen tigers at a range where they could have eaten me, a bit, if they were annoyed by the truck I was on. Or the way I looked at them.

When I was young I saw a circus with animals in it. A man with a red jacket, jodphurs and whip (probably a role model, now I think about it), put his head in their mouths, then made then roll over to have their tummies tickled. Well, I can do that. Now. 

So I’m sneaking my new whip and chair past Customs.

Victorian lion and tiger tamer in a body stocking and skirt: felines, he’s got felines

 

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