From Your On the Road Correspondents

Well, we’re at it again …. Separated for a few days, just as we were getting back into our normal groove in River City. Slave is in DC with sullen teen #2, making a college visit and spending time with other family members. Meanwhile, Mistress is at home with Sullen Teen #1. We will both get some solo bonding time with the girls who will soon be emptying our nest, but will be missing one another too.

This morning, I had an early meeting in a town to the north, but at least we got in some robust wake up sex which will have to tide me over until Sunday night.

But then Mistress already has a leg up on me on the O count. After the two she had this morning, complements of her Slave, she had a date with her “personal trainer” our WC, who no doubt had her deploying the Hitachi to tone certain hard to reach muscles.

When I was done with my meeting, I checked in with her.

“How was M, Mistress?”

“He was fine, Slave….”

She gives me that coy, sultry voice to rub it in a little deeper.

“And how many were you allowed this morning?”

“Just four, Slave….”

Oh, poor dear.

No doubt M had at least one of his own to go with her four. Let's hope he did not let that medicinal sperm go to waste.  Donna, has there been any research on how best to preserve it without losing its anti-depressant kick?

And I suspect Mistress too advantage of her private time with M to do a little ex parte communicating with “His Honor”, in hopes of mitigating the sentence he is do to impose for her misbehavior last Sunday.

I am a little concerned that the WC could end up succumbing to her importuning if he lets these deliberations run on too long.

It turns out that Donna, our Senior and Science Correspondent is also going away this weekend, but not to her heavenly reward, sans clothing. She’s headed to Florida for a few days, and has sent this dispatch on how Bill, our Director of Security International is considering how to handle her remotely in her absence.

                                                       Assistance Requested.

The other day Mick and I were talking on the phone about some blog things and then, what with Molly’s recent return from her trip abroad and the coin toss/clothespin/orgasm situation fresh in his mind, Mick asked about activities and requirements Bill is planning for my week away. I chuckled and said I hadn’t heard of any requirements. From behind me there came a deep male laugh followed by the word, “Yet!”

Oops.

With that, Bill opened a spiral notebook, flipped through the pages for a moment and then held up a page that had DONNA written in big letters across the top. It seems that Bill had indeed been making plans. Yesterday, after housing arrangements firmed up, we sat down together to go over Bill’s requirements and immediately began to run into some roadblocks. 

Let me explain, please.

See the picture of my chastity belt here? 

The problem is the chains. First, I checked the TSA website and it would seem that the chains mean that this isn’t an approved garment for wearing on airplanes. It has something to do with the metal and the need to take it off during security screenings and since Bill isn’t going and he would have the key...well,  I can accept that this would be inconvenient for the security people, and goodness knows I don’t want to be responsible for slowing down their already slow lines, so that was the first glitch.

 We talked about waiting until I arrived at my destination, putting on the chastity belt and mailing the key home to Bill, but an additional difficulty with the chastity belt is that I will be splitting my time between a medical facility, not likely to be wild about my belt, and the home of relatives. These relatives rescue dogs, many dogs. 

The dogs and puppies have free range of the  house and the sound of chain rattling means they are about to be leashed to go outside to go potty. Some of the little terrier dogs get so excited when they hear that sound that they let their bladders get ahead of the situation, if you know what I mean.  I wouldn’t want that to happen every time I move. Really. I wouldn’t.

Bill was thinking about sending the Hitachi since my suitcase will have to travel in the hold anyway, but as he thought more about the situation and considered the noise it makes, as well as the noise I make as I use the Hitachi, he decided this could be a problem in a home with such thin walls, especially considering the birds. 

This might be the time to share that these big hearted relatives also rescue birds, cockatiels, sun conures and parrots. They are gorgeous birds and there are cages all throughout the house. Yes, you sharp cookies, you guessed it, I’m going to be rooming with the parrots. I have visions of sitting at breakfast and listening to the parrots mimicking the sound of the motor of the Hitachi interspersed with cries of Oh, Ah, and Um followed by a hearty, Oh, shit!  

Ever creative, Bill’s next thought was to send a gag and my industrial strength pocket rocket, which the birds might sleep through, but on second consideration, probably not the dogs. Although, if I could arrange to howl at exactly the same moment as the dogs, I thought that might have a chance of working. But the walls really are thin and while I am certain our relatives understand that I have a sexual nature, I don’t really think they want to be aware, on any level,  that I am taking care of my needs in the room next door, even if it is Masturbation Month.

Of course, the perfect answer might be a very quiet remote controlled egg with Bill in charge of the remote, but the chances of that working over hundreds of miles is really remote.

Hahaha. Get it? Remote?

Okay, I need more coffee! In any case, Bill asked that I appeal to you for suggestions that take into account the dogs, birds, shared bathroom and paper thin walls. How about it guys? And, please, be gentle with me.  Hahaha, or not!

Your soon to be on the road correspondent,

Donna