More Mystery Gifts!
When I say “mystery” I mean “I know who sent this to me, but I didn’t know what was in the box.”
Granted, I’ve left several clues around my website, but this gentlemanslut correctly (if not skillfully) deduced that I love me some Lewis Carroll. Glorified soap dish (see this post) it may be, but I love the whole dream he put together here; A good execution of Alice in Femdom Land, where you eat soap if you say the wrong thing, the symbolism of making someone dirty just to clean them up again for the next trip through the looking glass of iniquity, engraved with my name, and rest it back on a tray reminding you that the fall into obsession was entirely your own. The growing and shrinking is I guess left up to your dick, but the notion of “Eat Me, Drink Me” and choosing your own poison? Spot-On.
As you all know, I love gifts that require thought, and effort. Expensive shoes don’t impress me. This definitely fucking does, though. And it’s soap and a plate. Please, everyone, take this shit down in your notepad. Creativity is always encouraged – if you are a person who considers themselves creative to begin with perhaps.