laineyjade
Posts: 56
Joined: 6/4/2007 Status: offline
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At some point while I was searching for a master, I realized that my master, whoever he was, would have to have a great sense of humour. Not only would he have to have a great sense of humour, but he would, in particular, have to have a profound love of having practical jokes played on him. Because I am a trickster. A jester. A prankster to the greatest possible degree. A master who didn't love to have a good laugh at his own expense was obviously going to be doomed with me. And the fact is that the happier I am with him, the more frequently I can be expected to prank him. For example? Just last night, as I do several times a week - or daily if I'm in an especially good mood - I played a trick on my master Dane. Master has a violent hatred of chickpeas. Yes, chickpeas make him vomit, he says. Finding this quirky fact impossible to resist as a plot hook, I concocted a devious yet stupid prank. I prepared an Indian feast, with several types of curries and other spicy dishes. I also made a saucepan of Channa Masala, otherwise known as curried chickpeas. I knew I wouldn't get in trouble for this, because I'd made so many other dishes for him to enjoy that he wouldn't care about one little saucepan of something he couldn't eat. He'd think I made it just for myself. After he had enjoyed his delicious dinner, I shifted my eyes to him and asked in a light, conversational tone, "Have you ever tried curried chickpeas?" He frowned and shook his head no, reminding me that he hated chickpeas. "Then how do you know," I countered, "that you won't like these that I've just made?" "Chickpeas are disgusting. They're blecch. They make me throw up, I can't stand them in my mouth." "But Master," I coaxed, "these are totally different. The curry is so powerful that it completely changes the flavour and texture of the chickpeas. You can't even recognize it as a chickpea." He looked at me suspiciously and shook his head stubbornly. "Are you telling me that you're too afraid to eat ONE chickpea?" "I don't want the damn chickpeas! You eat them." "You're chicken. BOKKKK-bok-bok-bok-bok! Okay, I'll tell you what. I will cut the chickpea in half! Can you just taste a teensy, weensy, half a chickpea? You can spit it right back out if you don't like it." More suspicious and stubborn looks, but less arguing. "Okay, how about if I give you just the SAUCE from the chickpeas? I just want you to tell me if you like what the sauce tastes like. Just the sauce! No chickpeas in it." "Okay, fine, you can bring me your sauce, and I'll taste it. It sure smelled good cooking." "Can I just put one chickpea on the side of the plate? Please? Just ONE eensy, weensy little chickpea. How can that hurt you if you don't even eat it?" "FINE whatever, I'm tired of discussing chickpeas!" Beaming at him, I danced into the kitchen and took a miniature cappuccino-cup saucer and dabbled the teeniest dab of masala sauce into the middle of it. To its side I placed one single chickpea, making sure it was coated in a generous serving of the delicious sauce. Returning to him, I offered him the miniature appetizer. There was only enough of a dab of the masala sauce in the middle of the saucer to tantalize his tastebuds when he ate it. I knew he'd be looking for more. His eyes fell on that single chickpea so generously covered with the delicious sauce. I resumed wheedling, "Oh come on, just try it. You won't taste anything but the sauce. How can you be afraid of ONE curried chickpea? Just try it for heaven's sake!" He looked at the generous helping of sauce on it and popped it into his mouth. He chewed. He made a face and swallowed with difficulty. Then he glared at me. "If that hadn't been a chickpea, I would have enjoyed the sauce. That was horrible! It was - shudder!" "HA-ha-ha HA!HA!" I crowed, dancing and making obscene gestures, "I made you eat a chickpea! I made you eat a chickpea!" An incredulous look was now spreading over his face. "I made you eat a chickpea! You knew you hated it and I made you eat it anyway. See? I can make you do anything I want!" - then breaking into song, "You'll be wrapped around my fin-gerrr! You'll be wrapped around my fin-gerrr!" So you see, there? He'd been pranked again. Do you see how a master with only an ordinary sense of humour could never deal with me? He would pull his hair out by the roots. He'd flee for the hills. Obviously, then, the single most important trait I would need to look for in any potential master would be his sense of humour. Have any of you other girls had to look for some specific, particular single most important trait in your potential master, due to some quirk of your personality or situation? And doms, were you forced to look for some special trait in your girl due to how you are?
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