This weekend I was gone, off doing dog stuff, and had great time, even with just about freezing to death. The same weather that seems great in short bursts, giving you energy while running from house to barn, or house to car, or even going for a brisk walk, doesn't seem all that great when you are required to sit or stand for hours in one spot, your muscles gradually going completely stiff from not moving and being cold. Eventually constant shivering sets in, and you wish for a cup of hot coffee, a warm fire, or both, plus being in bed under the blankets. But it really is worth it, and after checking with Master, I have signed up to do it again next year.
Plus they bought me an all you can eat ribs dinner which was out of this world, and it came with apple strudel. YUM!!!
Anyway, that was not what my blog was supposed to be about today.
On the way home from work today we were talking about food, and cooking, and Master started telling me about what he had read by Ruth Reichl about cooking pork chops. She says that if you start them in a cold pan and heat them gradually they will be more tender than the way I normally cook all meat, which is to start with a searing hot pan. In my obtuse way, I started saying that I'm not sure I believed that and I was going to test it out by cooking pork chops in two different pans next time, one hot and one cold to start.
But he took my arguing that as questioning the wisdom of his idol Ruthie. He threatened me with a caning if I didn't agree with him. So I said "Yes, Master".
"Smirking like fucking Anne Boleyn does not show the proper fear and respect for your Master." He says.
"I'm sorry, I'll stop". Still smirking.
"You really want to be caned, don't you?"
"Umm?" That is a trick question, right?
Then he went on about how great it was with the wrap around belt blow to the boob last week, how cool it was that I was sore for days afterward, and how he'd love to try out some belt wrap around shots to the cunt. Describing in detail how lovely it was going to be. And very soon instead of smirking and squirming I was just squirming, because this was starting to sound like not quite so much fun.
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