My wife made some Chilli pickles about five or six years ago and put them away in the cupboard, so we had imli rice (tammarind rice) for dinner last night ans so to spice it up, I dug out this jar of Chilli pickle.
Holy shit! was it fuckin hot or what!! but after the first serving of it, I had seconds and had even more chilli and it becomes like a self dare to see if you can stand the heat. Perhaps it is a bit like self flaggilation, a bit like self torture, but no secret word to say enough!!
I had two slices of toast before I went to bed, then enjoyed the chillis again at 2.30am on their way out. Yet the burning sensation only fuelled the urge to eat more tonight for dinner, which was a bit difficult as I ate out being incoming president of our service club, so a smear of chilli on roast beef and veges was more of a challenge; somehow you could compare it to bungi jumping. Would that make me a domme, a sub or a slave? Maybe just a stupid old bastard? |