Last night I finally received some much needed time with
my FMT. It was tight schedule but then again it often is. He works full time AND is pursuing his masters in Psychology so his Lilyana time is usually limited.
Tonight he managed to carve out a couple of hours for pizza, ice cream and some hands on Lilyana time. He'd also somehow gotten me to agree to help him with his homework.
I hadn't taken two bites out of my slice of pizza when there was a knock at the door.
My FMT looked at me puzzled and all I could think of as he went to answer the door was "Please don't let it be one of the psycho ex girlfriends."
Apparently
my FMT is
man crack to other women too. Their addiction drives them to harass him, me, his friends and even his family. Sometimes I think I'm the only sane woman he's ever dated. Sometimes these psycho women make me think he can only attract psychos which makes me question my own sanity.
In any case, I was bracing myself for an ex and hoping it was the pizza guy back for some odd reason. It was instead a young woman who spoke so quickly I could barely understand her in a high pitched voice. Something about allowing someone to come in and clean his floors. For free. No obligation.
I smelled a sales pitch but
my FMT agreed to let her guy come back and clean the floors. Clean the stairs for free? Sure why not.
10 minutes into the demo, I could tell by the questions
my FMT was asking that he was interested. And I have to admit the
Kirby vacuum cleaner is quite impressive. It really did sell itself. But I had to chuckle at
my FMT being sucked into buying a $2200 vacuum cleaner. Oh sure, the guy gave him a deal at $1200 and offered a nifty financing plan. Even took his old Bissel vacuum from Walmart as a down payment.
But every moment this Kirby vacuum cleaner salesman was in the house was a moment out of my Lilyana time. Those moments previously designated for
my FMT's talented hands to be on me.
Luckily I distracted myself by reading through
my FMT's homework. His assignment was to select a psychological disorder from the
DSM-IV-TR Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders and create a treatment plan for an imaginary patient. He flipped through this 3 inch thick book to the
Sexual and Gender Identity Disorders section and told me to pick something. I liked the paraphilias:
Naturally I picked Sexual Sadism.
Note about the Diagnosis Criteria: In order to be considered Sexual Sadism, the patient must have either inflicted mental or physical pain on a non-consenting victim or a consenting victim to a point where it interferes with their day to day life and relationships. I don't have this disorder nor do I know anyone who does.
Anyway, I'm flipping through the
DSM-IV-TR reading about
all the ways BDSM could be unhealthy as the sales guy is showing
my FMT all the bells and whistles on a Kirby vacuum cleaner. He shows him all the crap the Kirby picks up that his vacuum missed. The super cool grout attachment. Hell, you can even use the machine to unplug a pipe. And it's guaranteed for 10 years.
I can feel my 'hands on' time being sucked up by the Kirby's unrivaled 14 inch wide suction.
Finally the paperwork is signed, and
my FMT gets to test drive his super awesome vacuum cleaner.
"Your going to insist on vacuuming the whole house tonight, aren't you?"
"Probably."
"Did I ever tell you how hot it makes me when a guy vacuums?"
My FMT laughs. He thinks I'm joking. I'm not.
I don't know why but I just really enjoy watching a guy clean house. Maybe it's because it's a form of service. Maybe it's because that means I don't have to do it. I really can't tell you why.
I tell him this. I call him a tease. He stops vacuuming and takes me upstairs. To do his homework.
And no his homework was not a hands on experiment with Sexual Sadism.
For the assignment we had to create a backstory for the patient, diagnose her, then create a treatment plan for her. For me this was fun because as a SANE sadist, I can easily see where that line is and where things
could go terribly wrong.
We debated, I educated him, he typed. An hour later we'd made a good dent in his assignment and were at a stopping point. We were well past our scheduled pizza/ice cream/hot fucking time. I figured I was going home frustrated. Cock blocked by a Kirby vacuum cleaner.
But alas, it was finally Lilyana time. My patience was rewarded. Multiple times.
I'm sure there's some sucking/vacuum cleaner joke in there too. I'll let you create your own.
As I drove home, I could picture
my FMT scanning the
DSM-IV-TR index looking for a mental disorder that involves voyerism and men vacuuming. I hope that's one disorder that doesn't require a treatment plan. I sure as hell won't be helping him with THAT homework assignment if that's the case.
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