Back to a Confining Routine

Suzanne over at All Mine will be happy to know that Mistress has me back in my cage today.

We've been back in River City for just short of  48 hours now. There has been time for a few rolls in the hay to take the edge off that long sex-less road trip across the High Plains of Colorado and Kansas, and the Prairies and rolling hills of Missouri, Illinois and Indiana.

But last night, on a drive home in the rain after our long back to work day, Mistress announced that she'd been invited over to Jay's house for a glass of wine after work today.

"I hope you don't mind, but he seems to have missed me.  Consider it a mission of mercy."

"No problem, Mistress."

"And, since you'll be driving alone tomorrow, you will be wearing your cage."

I suppressed a groan.

"Yes, Mistress.... that's your call."

"And it may seem unfair, but I want you to go straight home. No diversions....."

"Yes, Mistress....."

So this AM, after several weeks of being spoiled, Slave had to scrunch into that tight steel ring. Fortunately, Mistress did allow me to make love to her before we showered and she closed the lock on my little container for the day.

Let's hope she doesn't stay out too late tonight.

Dispatch from the Road

Sadly, the motel where we came to ground last night in Independence , MO had only the tradionatl 2 bed set up.  And while our cute Co-Ed seems to sleep soundly, I was a little sheepish about showing me devotion to Mistress's clean shaven folds when I woke early this AM.

So the draught goes on.... at least until we can in good faith claim its time for bed in the executive suite in River City this evening.

So rather than provide you with anything provoctive, I will share some clips that I had slipped to one side on my laptop screen:

Here's one about a Canadian writer who won the "coveted" bad sex writing award for 2012.
http://artsbeat.blogs.nytimes.com/2012/12/05/canadian-wins-uncoveted-bad-sex-in-fiction-award/

No, of course it wasn't our friend Sin, who has a much more measured approach to her use of colorful adjectives.

And there is this one about a red faced Brent Mussberger, still calling football games at age 73, who went on a little too long on Monday night about the Miss Alabama who dates the QB of the Alabama Crimson Tide:

http://www.washingtonpost.com/blogs/early-lead/wp/2013/01/08/espn-apologizes-for-brent-musburgers-comments-about-katherine-webb/?hpid=z4

What's great about the article is it's "tutt-tutt" tone, while treating us to a photo of the dishonored lady in her bikini.  Thank you for sharing, Washington Post.

But I must say that the saccarine tone of the ABC / ESPN coverage on Monday night made me miss Howard Cosell all the more.

Ouch

Slave is still licking the psychic wounds generated by the butt kicking suffered by my alma mater at the hands of the Crimson Tide last night. We did have an enjoyable time sharing our pain at the local radio station / bar with several like minded fans, including the notorious Mattress Mary, who considers herself one of the University's "subway alumni".

If there was a hound's tooth fedora available, I suppose I'd have to eat it!

But life goes on, and there's another season ahead.

Now Slave, Mistress and the cute Co-Ed are driving across the endless high plains of Kansas, unsure whether we'll make it to Missouri before we call it quits for the night.

It could be a sad, sexless night unless we can find a hotel with a suite like arrangement along the way. Though maybe we could persuade the Co-Ed to run an important errand for 30 mintues or so?

Unlikely.

So think of the horror of Mistress and Slave going nearly 48 hours without conjugal bliss.

That's even more discouraging than a final score of 42-14.

A UCTMW Intervention

Our days here in the Southwest are winding down. After a last day of skiing today with our cute C0-Ed,  Slave will be watching the momentous clash between my alma mater and the dreaded Crimson Tide at a local radio station / bar with a large screen and cheap beer prices. Mistress and daughter will be avoiding my angst by going out for some regional food at another restaurant. Hopefully they will agree to pick me up after the dust settles, regardless of the score.

Despite the presence of our daughter, we have tried to slip in some "maintenance" sex. Luckily she is a heavy sleeper, so our "wake up sex" routine has remained on schedule. And yesterday, we were able to slip in a  apres ski 'nap", allowing Slave to deploy Mistress's favorite power tool, much to her apparent delight.

Obviously, tonite's game has got Slave a little anxious. Yes, it's only a silly game. But the Irish have not claimed the national title since 1988, wheras the Tide has won several in recent years.  It made me recall some other great moments in Crimson Tide history over the weekend:

Like this moment, when George Wallace stood in the school house door to block integration at 'Bama:

Ultimately, with some persuasion by U.S. Marshals and the National Guard, the Crimson Tide discovered there might be some benefit in integrating their sports programs, though it took a while.

Then there was this moment in 1973, when legendary head coach Paul "Bear" Bryant lost the national championship and his trademark hounds tooth fedora to ND head coach Ara Parseghian:

Undeterred, Coach Bryant embraced his inner fashion maven and launched his own fashion line in the mid-70's at Sears Roebuck, called the "Bear Essentials". Don't you like the way the pink checks on his "sport" coat, contrast with the black and white hat?

But while I was getting a little too obsessive in my BCS "pre-gaming", our Senior Correspondent was paying attention to the questionable health care decisions of our Western Correspondent, who seems to have suffered some scary complications as a result of what should have been relatively minor out patient surgery. He seems to have confidence in his doctor, but we would all like him to get a second opinion.  Here is Donna's proposal, which calls for some help from our friends over at All Mine:

Hi Guys,
I'm thinking we may need to do an intervention on the WC.
What would be the harm in just letting another doctor look over his file and take a look at his gut to see that everything is going as it should?
But, if he doesn't want to go that route, Bill (our Director of Security International) is willing to sanitize some tubing the plumber left here after our leak downstairs, and it's not bragging to say that I am a fairly good seamstress.
Bill and I can bring the tubing, the moonshine for sanitizing and my suture kit.
Mick's job is to distract the WC with some legal yackety-yak while Suzanne sneaks up to shove a stick between his teeth to bite on. When he realizes what is happening, Molly can break out her flogger and make sure he understands he won't move. Tammy and Mick can start talking sports to the WC while Bill holds his feet down. Then Sue can read the directions to me from the medical book I have. Well, it isn't actually a medical book, but it's Bill's father's Navy Pharmacist's Mate handbook. And really, how much could have changed since 1942?
I think we're all set. Okay?

Great plan, Donna. Either that or the WC gets in his car and drives down here today for a consult with my new Medical Director, who is a "medical intuitive", "gifted clairvoyant", and can perform "neural and vascular manipulation". He should quickly be able to get to the bottom of the WC's problem.