The She-Dragon

I have a very good friend who, now that I'm in the bondage business, has been helping me understand how people could possibly find kinky sex interesting (she's somewhat of an aficionado. I try to overlook this disgusting aspect to her personality, though it is rather difficult when she goes into the details of latex clothing maintenance, whereupon uncontrollable retching fits impair my listening skills).

There's just one slightly strange thing about her (other than her fascination for bound males): she's a dragon. A Jade Dragon to be specific. Now, being an open-minded and otherwise worldly guy, I'm fully willing to accept that large fire-blowing scaly creatures exist and thrive while having a fully positive macroeconomic impact on our capitalist society. What irks me just the slightest is that Ms. Jade is... well... cousins with my gargoyle (at least in a ribonucleic sense. According to her). When she came to visit recently, she was somewhat appalled by the fact that a fellow... thing was allowing itself to be chained up in my kitchen and to wallow in its filth whilst manufacturing sexual devices for prurient - yet, of course, brilliant and otherwise attractive - PEOPLE.

(Dragons can be slightly condescending towards us fleshy, non-carapace-bearing beings).

When I take exception to her lèse-majesté, trying my darnedest to explain to her that my property ENJOYS making ropes (and, quite apparently, LOVES wallowing in filth), she becomes rather overbearing in her protestations.

When she last graced us with her presence, I had run out of toxic-waste-cleanup kitty litter stuff. My enlarged insect was therefore particularly effluvia-endowed. Without consulting me, she took a pair of chain cutters from under her cape (dragons like capes. Silk ones. Now, this fact has little bearing on the story but it does give a visual cue, allowing one to appreciate the scene. If it weren't for such illustrative details, one would assume that only the insane can come up with such a triviality in a fictitious context, so I've gotta be telling the truth, right?) and let him go free. He bolted out a window.

At this point, I could compete with Solzhenitsyn's oeuvre in taking thousands of pages to describe the purest cruelty, sadism and pigeon entrails which resulted from her ill-advised decision. Suffice to say that the characteristically flat, quaint, working-class, fin de siècle Plateau rooftops were the setting for a scene of abject gore, gargoyle agility and scavenger bird rapes.

...it took a third of Montréal's firefighting resources to get him under control (not having belts - those huge rubber clown pants need suspenders - they weren't properly equipped with leather beating devices). I've a meeting at the municipal courthouse in a week to justify how such a being has come into my possession. I'll probably have to explain how hemp makes great ropes to a self-hating closeted submissive foot-fetishist judge.

AND Jade Dragon has yet to express remorse.

What a fun life I lead. *sigh*