You're about to be stuffed

Well, aren't we all? Thanksgiving is just about here... everyone's doing the travel plans, ordering the food. Hells bells, last Thanksgiving I gained 5-10 pounds over the winter holidays. Then here comes January, and I start working it off. Strange how the new year gives you an excuse to work your ass off. Seems we all hibernate this time of year, and emerge with the need to feel strong and feisty!

I remember last January, I started walking into town, listening to My fave podcasts, talk radio, Marc Maron, NPR, etc... 15 miles a week, minimum. Then the weather warms in March, bringing My craving for the burn of running. Started at 10 miles a week, then worked up to 15. I'm such a hard toned badass 9-10 months of the year. Then here comes winter, and feasting the harvest... there we go, cocoon and munch.

Rhythm. Can be a good thing.

I may be travelling (plans still morphing), although I'll be taking calls Thanksgiving weekend. Maybe we'll talk turkey, while I stuff unimaginable things right up your... *cough

Remind Me to tell you about the beer bottle, the condom, a bottle full of whisky, and a drunk midwestern boy with an account full of cash....

Creative Cretins

While watching Martha Stewart today (rare occurrence), she shared a little pig or two with the view. Her arms wrapped around a little pot bellied pig. Martha's resident animal expert was discussing the pros and cons (mostly cons) of keeping piglets as pets. They shared footage from a pet pig sanctuary, that cared for these abandoned, neglected porkers, when they get not so little.

Mistress had a strange fantasy in the wake.

My little minions, grazing in fields of green, naked, and serving Me. My own little piglet sanctuary, for slaves and submissive oinks. I was giggling, considering the barns I could put you up in. Every morning we'd hose you down and get you dressed, send you to work out in the field of normal folk (maybe banking, maybe law), then you'd come home every night, shed your vanilla skin, and get ready for grass stained knees.

Wonder if food tastes sweeter, mawing from a trough? Seeing my little worker pets, naked, their hard earned eats messed about their cheeks, and craving one more prod from my shepherd's hook, makes for a pleasant, surreal image.

Oh and could you do me the favor of turning down the temperature outside My Mistress hovel? Air conditioning is fabulous, but when triple digits linger, Mistress gets fussy.

Just one more reason to walk around naked all day!

Rev

So ironically I bring up the Toyota Prius commercial in My last dribble here. And wouldn't you know it? My lovely car of 10 years, which I bought brand new years ago, and maintain regularly like a good Girl Scout… crapped out on Me this past week! An event which has never occurred, in the life of this little car.

I was due a major maintenance, by just a few hundred miles (never go over 500 miles on that), but … the repair was painful, and made this Mistress blue.

It also made Me curious about the land of new cars out there to choose from. And of course I'm going to start plunking down some savings, as I have an erotic slave fantasy about buying a car outright for cold hard cash. Yours, of course!

Don't get Me wrong, they fixed the car up lovely like, however I'm looking around at the new models out there, and it seems like I'm not into the aesthetic. The Toyota Prius for example? Great gas mileage, see them everywhere. But the look? Eh…

I love having a smaller car to zip around in. Have yet to dabble in luxury cars, although could be enticed by the right slave. There's also VW, Toyota, Subaru…. Seems like many of their cars don't have the mileage I'm looking for (over 30 mph, as with My present car).

You're welcome to chat with Mistress during our sessions about your car observations. On your dime of course! Suffice it to say, I'm brainstorming and doing a little part time shopping for new digs, with wheels!


Suddenly thinking of that song "Hey Pretty" by Poe (all images in this post, are from the video). God I love that song, all about a woman picking up a stranger, in her very fast luxury car, taking him on fast ride in San Fran, then fucking him right there in the car. You hear the story from the male poet's perspective, spoken poetry over music, her singing (there's another version that's just Poe singing also).

I REALLY wanna shop for a new car with a dedicated slave, making him pay outright for a new car right in front of Me, then he selling it to Me for $1 and handing over the title… After our little excursion, I'd take him for a long drive in the country, find a hovel with tall old growth trees, and an overlooking view of the sea, or a valley. I'd force him into the back seat of My new car, make him whip out his dick, and jerk his load, right there in the car! I'd tease and deny several times, but when he finally did cum, if it was forceful enough, and there was any mess? I'd allow one small dot of his cum to dry on the back seat of one leather bucket seat.
PUSH the button....

One memento, of his presence, in the expensive worship he has given to Me. I'd keep it like a trophy methinks. Never tell another soul who road in the car. And of course it'd just be a tiny dot on the back of a car seat.

But we'd know, wouldn’t we?