Tuesday, June 3, 2014

Your Sex-Slave Zombie

Dear John,
 
That was quite a dream last night. I like dreaming about you, but this really was a bit odd. You were giving me drugs to turn me into a submissive, obedient, sex-slave zombie. When I discovered what you were up to, I just wondered why you thought it necessary to drug me. I was a bit hurt to find that you didn't think I'd do whatever you wanted without all that. Zombies do seem to be the thing right now - maybe you were just being fashionable.
 
. . . married to you.
I remember that conversation I had with Mama a couple of years after we were married. We'd just moved to Springfield and she was really struggling with us moving farther away from them. She couldn't figure out why I loved you, and concluded that I was "enslaved by sex." You and I laughed about that for years, always saying that we really should try that when we had the time. Thankfully, she did come around - she ended up adoring you. So, in last night's dream, had you concluded that you finally had time to try enslaving me? I've giggled about that dream all day.
 
You don't need to drug me or turn me into a zombie. I love you, adore you, and worship the ground you walk on. No further effort on your part is required. I married you, took care of your house, washed your clothes, and made you meat loaf and mashed potatoes whenever you wanted. And I made the great, final sacrifice for you - I let you go on ahead of me and am living on without you. I know this is what's best for you. These are really the days when I'm giving my life for you, giving by waiting to be with you again.
 
No, you don't need to drug me or turn me into a zombie. I'm yours and always will be. Now just get your act together and come get me!
 
Adore you,
Joan.

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