Excuses. Excuses. Excuses.

You may be happy to know that Slave was back in his cage again on Tuesday. Mistress sent me off to work after some morning sex (she likes it when the hard steel ring provides some extra heft to her work-a-day cock), having closed the lock and tucked away the key.

"You're not taking this key with you, Slave."

Well of course not.

At the end of the day she had scheduled a long bike ride  with former fuck-buddy Jay, so she gave me the authority to remove the cage so I could go on my own end-of-day ride without jeopardizing the family jewels.

"You do need your exercise, Slave."

When she got home, she even let her Slave worship dutifully with a little introductory full disclosure.

"It's a little grimy down there Slave.... I was on that saddle for about 20 miles...."

"That's the way I like it Mistress....."

Yum. 

But before signing off this morning , I have to go back to yesterday's blog comments , and the multiple excuses Suzanne seems to have for not coming to see her Patriots take on my Pussycats in two weeks. First there was something about nursing Jay back to health after some type of elective surgery; but he must be healthy enough that the following night they plan to take in a Red Sox play-off game, which was excuse number two; and then, the last excuse,  about how Sybriates not going for the tackiness of RVs.  It reminded me a little of a teenaged girl explaining why she couldn't turn in her Science project on time. You know: "The dog ate it"; and  "it was in the trunk of Dad's car which was totaled"; and then "the landlord evicted us and left it out with the trash". When actually she got stoned with her friends at a concert and forgot it was due.  The more excuses you have the lamer they all sound.

It's hard to imagine that Jay, having elected some surgery, can't make his own chicken soup for a couple of days. Or that there won't be other Red Sox games to attend....that's why they call it a play-off "series". More ... than ... one. As for the RV being too low brow, well, Suzanne, I'm sure something that is worthy of your Dmme-ish station could be arranged.  It would not have to be this kind, though the big screen is nice:

It's a little too pedestrian for your tastes, isn't it?

No, maybe something a tad more stylish, like this...

With a plush interior worthy of a true sybriate of station, such as yourself:

Of course it must be equipped with a suitable bedroom that has all the accourtrements you require.... a cabinet chock full of bondage equipment and lingerie for Tammy... maybe a selection of penis gags, baby monitor, and a special glass cabinet for the display of big blackie. And since Tammy may need to be "of service" on this grueling 16 hour drive to the vast and hostile wastelands of the American interior, I am sure if you put out a casting call on your blog, some of your devoted followers would surely volunteer for driving shifts just to be in your regal presence.

No, I think your aversion to an RV is just another lame excuse. The real explanation for your reluctance must be the sinking feeling you have that with the absence of Aarron "The Killer" Hernandez and Wes "The Smurf" Welker, the Pats don't match up well against the Pussycats. I was looking forward to a bet involving no points, with the spoils being something like Tammy doing his worshipful best on Mistress's clean shaven folds once the dust settles on the field. (I guess there is no dust on artificial turf, but you get my drift).

Ah well. I guess it's not to be. I will just have to fill in for Tammy once I get home from the game.