Valentine's Day Reunion

 Slave and Mistress were finally re-united last night around 11:30 pm. She flew into the airport up north of here, after completing her sad but inevitable mission of turning our recent grad over to the next phase of her life. It sounds like things went well.  The boyfriend has a new job down in one of those GA towns that General Sherman visited back in the day. Mistress reports that the two lovebirds have a very nice apartment, and that the boyfriend had already furnished it. Sounds much more “civilized” than the apartment I inhabited the year after I graduated from college. And while Mistress had a long two days of travel, she probably needed some reassurance that our no longer so little darling is living in a manner to which she has become accustomed.

As for slave, I was on lockdown from around 7:30 am until about 10 pm on Friday, night, when Mistress gave me the go ahead to find the key and self-release from that hard steel cage.  I was certainly grateful not to have to  see whether I could “sleep through the night” in that infernal device as our friends Terri and Diane over at “A Married Sissy” put it.

Fortunately, the timing of Mistress’s return was just right. We get to celebrate Valentine’s Day in our suddenly (and a little sadly) emptied nest. No big plans here though, other than some wake-up sex, some exercise, and a relaxing dinner at home.  We plan to have a more lavish Valentine’s dinner in a few days, when we return to our romantic SW hideaway starting Tuesday.

I am feeling a little badly for our Senior Correspondent Donna, who will spend V Day on the last day of her 7 day Super Bowl bet induced quarantine from the use of mechanical stimulation.  Last night this report of her sad plight was slid under my E-door:

 While I'm certain that Mick has a very mushy Valentine greeting for you today, please take a moment to think of me, the dildo-less, vibrator-less woman of the mountains.

It has been six long days since my beloved dildos and vibrators were packed away thanks to the bet I lost on the Super bowl fiasco last Sunday evening.  To say I have missed them would be a significant understatement.  To make things even more difficult this week, my Keurig coffee maker died.  No vibrators and only instant coffee, my world has come undone.  Then, to add insult to injury, my friend with benefits was out of town this week. Alas, alas. Woe is me.

WC suggested I use my fingers, just as he uses his fists and fingers along with gallons of lube every day.  But fingers for women just don't offer the same ah, Ah, AH, experience as vibrators, especially a vibrator known as a magic wand.

But tomorrow I cut through the duct tape to release the dildos, the vibrators, and my magic wand.

 Oh, and Mick, I will be submitting the bill for the special shipment of duct tape I had to have delivered to adequately seal my collection of vibrators into a rather large box.

No problem, Donna. But the next time this happens, consider using the duct tape to seal your lady bits away from the temptation of mechanical assistance, rather than the other way around. It might work like this.

I must add that last night, Donna sent a follow up email, wondering if "vegetables" were also quarantined as part of the wager.  I used my discretion to consider the matter, and ruled that since vegetables were "organic" they were not considered to be among the mechanical aids that she had agreed to forego for a week if Cam Newton fizzled and let "The Sheriff" prevail in Super Bowl L. 

I have a feeling that there is a well worn cucumber sitting somewhere near Donna's bed this morning. Or maybe one of those skinny purple eggplants?

Mile High HiJinks

It’s a bittersweet day here in River City.  Mistress is heading south, on a road trip with  our older daughter, who is moving out of town, and in with her college boyfriend. She’s been living with us since graduating last May, and while having extra company has cramped our style a tad, it’s also been nice to have her around. While we’ve been longing for an empty nest, it’s still hard to let go of your daughter, and see her move a few hundred miles away. I have a feeling a few tears will be shed before Mistress flies back here on Saturday evening.

As for slave, I am staying behind. But Mistress has taken security precautions.

“I want you in your cage, slave.”

“Of course, Mistress.”

I’ve already got the tight steel ring on, and look forward to some early wake-up sex before I go into lock down and Mistress and daughter hit the road.  It’s not clear whether I will get a reprieve tonight, or Mistress will let me “self-release” at bed time.

But today’s blog is more about our Western Correspondent’s update from the streets of the mile high city.

.Well yesterday was a big day in Denver

I went down to the party in Civic Center park

Lot of peeps down there!

And vey very cool

Only one arrest and I saw it...

The last two big events downtown in this dust old cow town were 

The DNC in 08

And Barrack's speech a few days before the election in 08

I happen to know that the famous Mick and Molly were at the DNC in 08

With very good credentials by the way

Unfortunately I did not know them then then!

What a magical week that was

And then Barrack came to town  and gave a fantastic speech from the same podium that the Donks were on yesterday

Before that I saw a couple of Broncos parades and an Aves or two

But it was very very cool in downtown Denver yesterday

I had on shorts and a tee shirt

Thats how warm it was!!!!

They say there was were  Millions  people there

Don't know about that 

But there were a lot 

Our rail system was taxed to say the least

Very very cool

Well Donna

Guess your fingers will have to do for a few more days!!!!!!

Sucks for you.... 

But I think that your boys were a little bit cocky!

Wade Philips rocks!!

As fro the pot situation 

I didn't smell much pot

And the cops were cool

Civic center park was the home of the pot movement in Colorado

Every 4/20 was a cloud of smoke here before legalization 

Now you just don't see or smell it

Very very cool

Love you guys

And the great Donna too

Hope teri and Diane get there super Bowl next year 

Peace and out

The happy Broncos fan 

WC 

Thanks WC. Glad you were there to provide a first hand account. I'm a little surprised you could break away from that big barrel of lube for that long.  How about video next time? We appreciate you sharing this photo of you going "undercover" to provide such in d coverage.

And Donna, we feel your pain.  Let us know how your week of non-tool enhanced stimulation has gone.

When It Rains It Pours

Mistress and I were headed out last night to two back-to-back political events when she caught me up on her day.

Of course, there was a business lunch. And some meetings with clients. Typically crazy behavior by her sister. But also some unsolicited and out of the blue overtures.

"Remember Jimmy ________, Slave? "

I had to think back.....

"Oh yeah.... that guy who works at [huge consumer products company].... you met him a while back via Ashley Madison...."

"Right.... he's at [Big Local Bank] now.... a VP..... he sent me a message via Linked In, wanting to know how I was doing and if I wanted to get together for lunch sometime ...."

Jimmy was this much younger Hispanic guy.... very full of himself.... who came on very, very hard.  Mistress ultimately passed. Something about the cute wife and kids on facebook that made her say "not going there".

"How did you respond, Mistress?"

"Haven't gotten back to him yet, slave...."

But it seemed she still had the same discomfort with Jimmy. Amusing, but not her type.

But there's more.

"Do you remember Mark.... the guy I sort of replaced at the agency a few years ago?"

I did remember Mark.  He was close to Mistress's age, maybe a few years older. Tall, and smart. More Mistress's "type", whatever that means. They had some business dinners back in the day, and I did get the impression from Mistress back then hat he was a bit of a flirt.  And that Mistress found him mildly attractive. But nothing ever happened. He was married at the time, and lived out of town.

"He sent me an email, wondering how I'm doing.  He's down in Nashville now. Says he's divorced and wanted to know if I was "happily married". He said he's thought about me a lot over the years and wanted to know if I'd like to 'date' him."

"He asked if you were 'happily married', not 'still married'"?

"That's right, slave....."

"Interesting approach, Mistress....what did you say?"

"I just said I was happily married, and went onto other subjects."

"I suppose you could say 'you are happily married with benefits."

"I suppose I could, slave....but Nashville?.... not sure that would work."

"They do have nice music down there...."

"Oh, slave.... you are a trouble maker, aren't you."

But there's more.  This one via her Slave / Social Secretary.

"Mistress, you know we still have that old Collar Me account."

"Ugh...."

True, most of the folks who contacted us via Collar Me or Fet Life have turned out to be, shall we say, "odd".

"Well, it's still there. I use it to point folks to the blog, but every now and then we attract some interest from someone who seems interest in playing the cuckolder role. A guy who seems to 'get it', and comes from just up the road. He wanted to know how to get on your dance card....He seemed like a viable prospect so I gave him the email address.  Hope you don't mind...."

"Always willing to read an email, slave....."

Why do these sorts of overtures come in threes?

Super Slip Sliding Away

Mistress and Slave had a rather laid back Super Sunday.  Of course, there was your traditional wake - up sex, some afternoon worship and a nice nap before we headed across the Mason Dixon line to the home of acquaintances that Mistress has met through her work. 

This was one of those ex-urban communities that is pretty unfamiliar to Mistress and slave: A huge, treeless subdivision of McMansions on proportionately too small lots. Yeah, I know I am sounding like some urbanista snob.  But it's true that we have been sheltered from this sort of lifestyle. 

Once inside we found the typical selection of Super Bowl foods - cheese, chili, fritos. Mistress found some tasty bourbon, and slave nursed some red wine. The crowd was a little different from who we might typically hang with on the annual ritual of commercial and cultural excess that is uniquely American.  

Slave is old enough to remember the first super bowl. We've come a long way from Len Dawson, the Kansas City QB, smoking a cigarette and drinking a Fresca at half time, while Al Hirt tooted some New Orleans tune at the 50 yd. line.

Slave found himself out on the back deck, with a view of a meandering stream and a sanitary sewer pumping station. I took  tips from a neighbor of our hosts on the best guns to use to snuff out my prairie dog problem at our SW hideaway. He described some special plastic tipped pellets on the market now that expand on impact and leave a fist size exit wound.

"Make yourself a blind.  Then you can just lay back there and pop off those varmints one right after another...."

"you mean sitting in my lounge chair won't cut it?"

I don;t think he got the joke, and  actually made me feel sorry for my sordid little varmints.

In any event, the game did not go quite the way I expected.

Sorry, Donna.  I hoped you put your vibrators to good use before the score was final.  Because you had a heads up by half-time, when it became apparent that Clark Kent, rather than Superman showed up. Maybe the Panthers forgot to have a phone booth handy on the sidelines?

And Mike, our erstwhile Western Correspondent, congratulations on your team's upset victory. That defense sure is fearsome. While PFM got his 200th victory, he didn't have to contribute much to pull off the victory, did he? When the Donkeys handed off the ball at 3rd and 9 with only a 6 point lead and 6 or so minutes to go in the game, you could tell they had little faith in the Ol' Sheriff's arm and a lot more confidence in their defense. And their punter.

As I understand the terms of your bet with Donna, she must now forego use of her vibrator collection for the rest of the week. And you now have license to dip back into your vat of lube for the week to come. I am sure you will put it all to good use. 

Donna, I feel your pain!  And we look forward to a report on how you cope with this sad privation over the next few days.  Somehow I think you will be the Mother of Invention.