Casa del Fatfuck

Today I visited my slave fatfuck at his house. Fatfuck, my numero uno slave, is recovering from quadruple bypass surgery. In this covert operation, I pretended to be someone who worked at his medical office coming by to see how he was doing. I plain jane'd myself, no make-up, hair in a ponytail, t-shirt and jeans shorts (not ultra-slutty daisy dukes) and sandals. I was prepared if I ran into Mrs. Fatfuck, but she was out shopping. I knew where fatfuck lived, but had never been inside the house. Opulent to say the least. The door was answered by a housekeeper in uniform. I almost slipped and said "I'm here to see fatfuck", but she probably would not have understood me as English was definitely not her first language.

Fatfuck was sequestered in a large room and was being babysat by a huge black islander, a male nurse tech named Cristobal. This is because there is no other way to move the massive lard that is fatfuck without Herculean power.

I wasn't sure what to bring fatfuck, meaning a get-well gift, I asked Nicole and she was like 'your presence is a fucking gift' 'just seeing you may kill him, wear something sexy so he'll die'. Of course you have to understand Nicole's morbid sense of humor. This was another reason I plain jane'd myself. If I had done myself up into a to-die-for look, I'm sure he would have had a heart attack on the spot.

The best part was that fatfuck's heart rate went up as soon as I walked in, as he was hooked up to a heart rate and pulse ox monitor. "I've missed you!" I announced. "Everyone's missing you!" "Everyone?" "Yes, even Adam." Cristobal had no idea who Adam is, this is fatfuck's 'cocksuckee'. I added: "Adam is especially missing his injections". This is a joke because fatfuck does botox injections, but it's Adam who gives fatfuck bo-splooge injections.

Fatfuck asked if Cristobal could leave the room for a moment so he could discuss some private business, Cristobal gave a look then left. Fatfuck confessed that he'd missed me more than he could say and also wanted to know if my sister could visit. He asked if I could do something to him, anything, right at that moment. So I whispered in his ear his favorite Yiddish fetish trigger word 'fagele' (no translation needed) and spit on his cheek, a kiss. His heart rate went up even more. It doesn't take much.

He told me to pull out my cell phone and enter a number I was to call tomorrow. His attorney. "I'm going to call him, there will be an envelope there for you tomorrow, just a little bit, I know Wednesdays were our days." Then fatfuck said he loved me. And I saw his eyes were tearing up. It made me feel very sad. I could see an old man who knew his days were numbered and that there was no love in his life. His wife was disinterested in anything but his money and the only joy in his life was when he and I would get together and I would punish his pathetic fat ass. But he and I would also talk and text almost daily. Although I speak of fatfuck in ridicule on my blog, yes I would cry if he were gone, because he was a good man, a good father, and someone who cared about me, which counting on my fingers, there are few, very few who really do.