A baker's dozen, and a Miss' dozen

The other day I ordered some frillies to arrive at Miss' house. We discussed this in advance and Miss agreed. 

Like a muppet, for some reason I sent the girdles to the wrong address. I have been seeing Miss for over twenty years and I am not sure how I got the worng address.

Kindly neighbors delivered them, and I will fix the address issue on the next order, for there will be another order, but I still feel bad about the mistake.

Miss of course is too pragmatic to give a monkey's.

But perhaps whenever Miss chooses to spank me, or beat me, or knee me then she can give me a Miss's dozen. More than a baker's dozen and make sure I never forget the right number ever again. 

What say you Miss? Will you help in my education?

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