Monday, July 30, 2007

The Great Blueberry Muffin Caper

To sleep, perchance to dream of spanking.
In the dream, it is Sunday morning. With nothing better to do, I wander down to the street faire, which is located not on the street, as you might think, but in a large colonial estate. About half the attendees are dressed as pilgrims, the other half a bit more earthy-crunchy, their dreadlocks past their shoulders and their hackey-sacks a'flying. I am only myself, wandering about on a Sunday morning, looking for a good cup of coffee and perhaps a pastry. As I wander from room to room, each vendor occupying a full room of the estate or a corner of the large barn next door, I peruse handmade crafts and strange brick-a-brack--antique kitchen tools, books with the titles faded from their spines, random mystery objects of days past.

Finally, I find what I'm looking for--a cafe with homemade baked goods and fresh coffee, although I note from the chalkboard menu that they do not have the latte I was craving. Still, my eyes alight upon a basket of large, warm, sugar-topped muffins the likes of which I've never seen. And then, completely unexpectedly, my dream-self steals a blueberry muffin, dashing out the door before anyone notices me, biting into it as soon as I hit the open air.

It is the best muffin I've ever had. I meander, eating every crumb. Only after it's gone do I realize I just stole a muffin. I reach into the pocket of my dream-jeans. I have six dollars, so I decide to go back and put it all into the tip jar, hoping they don't recognize me. They don't, but no sooner does the six dollars leave my hand that the Spanking Police show up.

That's right. The Spanking Police. It turns out that this dreamworld is a bit like the universe of Harry Potter, in which the Ministry of Magic knows whenever an underage witch or wizard performs magic outside of Hogwarts. Here, any professed spankophile is punished to the full extent of spanking law when a crime is committed. The captain of the spanking police bends me over a wooden table, a leather strap in his hand, when...

I, of course, woke up. As soon as my husband woke, I told him of the dream. Kind soul that he is, his hand was immediately slapping away at my backside as I squealed, "But it wasn't real! It wasn't real!" He paused and deadpanned, "They were the best muffins ever and you didn't steal me a muffin, too?" Then he was back at it, all for a crime I didn't commit.

Let that be a lesson to all other bottoms out there. If you're going to commit a crime punishable by the Spanking Police, at least take care of things while asleep so that the Spanking Police doesn't follow you into the waking world.

1 comment:

  1. The recent discovery that the pheromone Kryptospankoridium exists in some foods has led some researchers to conclude that even a small amount of Kryptospankoridium, (often as little as one part per billion), may account for such phenomena as the acting out of hitherto suppressed behavior i.e.: engaging in spanking play or the occurrence vivid sexual/spanko dreams.

    Red wine, fine chocolate, many fruits and berries such as huckleberries, saskatoon berries, and blueberries are be particularly high in Kryptospankoridium causing their phenomenal chemo signal to be very strong.

    Is it possibly, Abby, that you have come in contact with any of these foods in the past few days?

    If so it may account for your dream where blueberries and spanking played an important role.

    ReplyDelete

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