Sloppy Bitchy Pet

Description: I was vegged out on the couch, watching tv. messy hair, no makeup, just cuddled under a blanket in my underwear, waiting for the food delivery i knew i wasn't supposed to have. something easy, something private. my own little getaway- a sneaky stuffing on the living room couch. i even left a note: "knock softly. i'm supposed to be on a diet." they didn't listen. the doorbell rang. i shot up in panic, but it was already too late. over my protests- "it's probably just amazon..." my boyfriend answered the door. and i was caught red-handed. but this time, he didn't let it slide. he knew exactly what i was up to. he grabbed a camera and a light stand and started documenting. he flipped the script on my peaceful mid-day indulgence, dressing me up like a pet: floral cat ears, white lace bracelets and necklace, trimmed with silly pink ribbons and bells. every fidget, every awkward adjustment of my too-tight clothing, punctuated by tinny little jingles announcing my every move- leaving me nowhere to hide. no privacy. no dignity. this wasn't a meal anymore. it was a punishment and a fetishistic spectacle. stripped of dignity, of pride, of excuses. i tried to protest, but the more i struggled, the more he teased. "i could be enjoying this meal alone." "you could be at the gym right now." so, here i sit, unprepared, unvarnished, but put on display anyway- like a pet, like a dumb doll, mindlessly stuffing.