Oops
"Damn it! It's a semi-colon! Use it for goodness sake!" Hermes screamed at the computer screen. "OMG! Have you ever heard of a comma?"
"Hermes."
Hermes heard his top call out in a warning tone, but he was so wrapped up in his latest client that he ignored him. As the god of written language, and the messenger of the gods, Hermes loved to give ideas to writers. He would shoot images of the story in their minds, and let them do the tedious job of writing it out. The storylines and plots were so great, but Hermes was a perfectionist and he wanted each T crossed and each I dotted. Not to mention all the commas in the correct places.
"Damn it all to Hades! It's-IT IS as in I, T, apostrophe S!" Hermes finally lost control of his temper and swept his arm across his desk. Computer monitor, keyboard, and several files went crashing to the floor.
The sound of all those things crashing to the floor wasn't the scariest noise Hermes had ever heard. No, the scariest sound was the sound of his top's footsteps walking toward him.
Seeing the expression on his top's face, the one Hermes just knew they taught in top school as "How to scare the hell out of your brat with just one look", had Hermes thinking quickly of all the excuses the brats in the brat cave had written on the "excuse wall".
The excuse wall had been the brilliant brain child of a long ago brat. All the brats would write their best excuse's on the wall. This gave other brats an opportunity to avoid painful stimuli to their bottoms. Of course many of the excuses had been crossed out, as some didn't work as well as others.
Finally deciding on the very best excuse to use in this situation, Hermes said, "Oops?"
"Oops?" His top questioned.
"Um, yeah, oops," Hermes confirmed. He knew that was the best excuse to save his butt. Too bad his top didn't think so.
"No, that's not an "oops", that is pure temper tantrum. And you know how I deal with temper tantrums."
Hermes did know and he felt his butt clench in protest.
"Now, first, just what is the tantrum in honor of?" His top asked sternly.
Hermes explained how he'd been working with several clients and was greatly pleased with how well everything was going. Except for one teeny, tiny detail.
"And one teeny, tiny detail has you swiping everything off your desk?" the top asked in a most reasonable way. That reasonable way that has warning sirens screaming in brat's heads!
"Well, maybe several teeny, tiny details," Hermes confessed.
"Like what?"
"Well, commas, semi colons, colons, point of views, tenses," Hermes voice rose in agitation at each teeny, tiny detail until he was yelling at the end of his list.
"Your job is to send the ideas, the storylines, the plots, and you do a wonderful job at it," his top said. The small bit of praise had Hermes sitting up proudly, but then quickly deflated as his top continued, "however; the actual writing is a process that is up to the client. And if they need help they will help each other. That's what these yahoo groups are for. The writers like the sense of community, and the ability to help each other. That, my boy, is NOT your job. Now is it?" The top asked, unsympathetically.
"No," Hermes voice was small.
"No, is right. And now that we've talked it out, what is the next step?"
"Umm, youtakemeoveryourlapandspankme?" Hermes mumbled.
Hermes's top had taken Brat's Mumbling Translation course online, but he still had learned everything he needed to know to understand Hermes mumbling and so he did exactly that. He took Hermes over his lap and spanked his pert little butt.
Hermes yipped, and yelped, and promised to never again throw a temper tantrum and when his top was convinced that Hermes had learned his lesson once again he stopped the awful swats. The top cuddled Hermes, giving him comfort and reassurance of his love and forgiveness.
The frustration that Hermes had felt that morning combined with the spanking, and of course the tears that accompany such a spanking, soon had Hermes's eyes drifting shut. His top knew that a good nap would restore Hermes's usual good temper.
After Hermes's impromptu nap, and of course the clean-up of his morning foibles, Hermes looked online at the yahoo group. To his great surprise, he saw that once again, tops did indeed know it all. He read all the posts that offered encouragement and helpful hints and tips to his wayward client. Sighing in relief, Hermes turned off his computer. The mortals were all helping each other. He could go to the brat cave and mark off one excuse on the excuse wall. Oops, didn't work on tops.
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