My German Dominatrix

Shit.

I put off planning my birthday, and now it's all coming up too quickly. I wanted a hugeous German Extravaganza with an oompah band, busty blondes, and boiled cabbage. I wanted beer, and all sorts of animal parts fitted into an assortment of casings. Teutonic mirth is a difficult thing to capture I've learned. Historically of course the Germans haven't had the best track record. Nonetheless, we seem to forgive all the historical oopsies whenever Oktoberfest rolls around. Then, they all become adorable little men, wearing leather shorts, with a fondness for pumpernickel.

I suppose it's the whole S&M thing isn't it? We enjoy the notion of beer and brats while waiting for the Gestapo to spank us and call us naughty.

Now the party, for my enjoyment, my celebration is spanking me, twisting my nipples, and making me wear a leather thong.

I hate celebrating me.