I should do an entry today but MsV wanted me to post Her collage of me on a homepage. So I had to write the homepage. Be forewarned: a bit of skin and hair showing. Not for the faint of heart or those who have weak stomachs, lol. For any who are interested the homepage may be found at:

My Homepage

Addendum: Upon reading this entry MsV has instructed me to say how I feel about having such a montage displayed online for any and all to see. If I am to be truthful I must say I don't find it comfortable. I am fine with my own body and I don't mind serving MsV or Her guests in my natural state, but I am not accustomed to all and sundry having easy access to view my person. Given the choice I would most certainly have voted against posting it. But Ms knows best and, as always, I bow to Her wishes.

Many Thanks,
Ryan

What follows is an excerpt from the book recently given to me by my brother, Delta.

There are several listings of 'Key Confusables' that feature the British way of saying things translated into American.

Brit-->American

bookshop = bookstore
cash till or cashpoint = ATM
chemist's = drugstore or pharmacy
cheque = check
jumper = sweater
newsagent = newsstand
note = bill
off-licence = liquor or package store
pants = underpants
pay in = deposit
post = mail
queue = line up or wait in line
till = cash register or checkout
trolley = shopping cart or buggy
trousers = pants
zip = zipper
balaclava = ski mask
bathing costume = swimsuit
braces = suspenders
brogues = oxfords
bum bag = fanny pack
diamante' = rhinestone
dummy = pacifier
dungarees = overalls
handbag = purse
knickers = panties
mac = raincoat
nappy = diaper
plimsolls = canvas sneakers or slip ons
suspenders = garter belt
trainers = sneakers or tennis shoes
vest = undershirt
waistcoat = vest
wellies = rubber boots
flannel = washcloth
hoover = vacuum cleaner
hosepipe = hose
loo roll = toilet paper or bathroom tissue
plaster = band aid
pram = baby carriage
pushchair = stroller
cot = baby bed
secateurs = pruning shears
serviette = napkin
spanner = wrench
tea towel = dishtowel
valance = dust ruffle
washing powder = laundry detergent
washing up liquid = dishwashing liquid
hair grip = bobby pin
fringe = bangs
biscuit = cookie
pancakes = crepes
crisps = chips
chips = fries
pudding = dessert
starter = appetizer
a take-away = a takeout
tin = can
white coffee = coffee with milk or cream
aeroplane = airplane
car park = parking lot
coach = bus
driving licence = driver's license
give way = yield
lorry = truck
motorway = interstate
number plate = license plate
pavement or footpath = sidewalk
petrol = gasoline or gas
railway = railroad
return ticket = round trip ticket
single = one way ticket
rubbish = trash or garbage
bin liner = trash or garbage bag
dustbin = trash or garbage can
windscreen = windshield
bonnet = hood
boot = trunk
grizzle or whinge = whine
wool = yarn
tyre = tire
caravan = trailer
titbits = tidbits
sick = vomit
cooker = oven or stove
hob = stovetop
estate car = station wagon
rasher of bacon = strip of bacon
brown sauce = steak sauce

These are only a few of the different words and phrases listed. How many of them did you know already?

Ryan

It was a lovely time for all this past week. I must apologise to everyone as there was no time at all to write my blog. Each day was filled completely with visiting, seeing sights, eating and last but by no means least SHOPPING.

Delta, in his great thoughtfulness, bought me a book entitled 'Speak American, A Survival Guide to the Language and Culture of the U.S.A.' by Dileri Borunda Johnson. I read a bit of it on the flight and found it to be most entertaining. Not wholly accurate but certainly entertaining.

As I had mentioned in my previous entry, Delta drove when we were in America. I believe he might have prefered a different car though. We rented a Pontiac Grand Prix. This provided all the room needed for luggage and shopping. Delta wanted a 'sports car'. Eventually he realised that he needn't argue the point as it was moot. Mistress selected the vehicle. End of story, full stop.

His driving was impeccable, which I found most surprising. You could say he was in fine form there in the USA amongst all that is familiar to him. When we left New Orleans he cried a bit. He does get homesick but I'm certain he will continue to adjust.

Mistress bought untold articles of clothing, shoes, jewellry and gifts for Her friends. Delta and I were loaded down many times over. But we did enjoy fine dining, fine wine and much amusement over the course of our stay. It was a lovely time never to be forgotten.

It was more than slightly interesting to find ourselves ensconced within a very vanilla home, albeit temporarily, in which the inhabitants found our manner of being together very intriguing.

Ms V's cousin's husband was most amused, calling Delta and I 'the entourage', or 'the toy boys'. I suppose to him our version of normal does seem odd. At times I felt we were tolerated by Mr. C, whereas Mrs C was inquisitive and maybe even slightly envious of Ms V's position in Her boys' lives and the respect given to Her.

The 16 year old daughter of Ms V's cousin took a particular fancy to Delta. I believe she referred to him as 'cute'. There was a bit of flirtatiousness on her part, but Delta executed his tightrope walk very well, lol. He was polite, smiled a great deal but politely informed her they could not date.

Ms V will have a lie in this morning and instructed me not to wake Her for any reason apart from what might be deemed an emergency. Delta is also sleeping off his jet lag.

I usually adapt quite quickly to whatever time zone I find myself in. I've been tidying up the kitchen and getting the Christmas decorations out of storage. The decorations should be in place, gifts wrapped, and tree decorated before 1 December.

There are so many stories I could tell. All will have to wait though. Life goes on and so must I.

Until Tomorrow,

Ryan

I'm anticipating a very busy week.

Ms. Liz and damon will be housesitting/horsesitting/dog and domme-ster sitting for us next week, and Fiona (our housekeeper) will still come to tidy, hoover and dust. Nonetheless, I do wish to leave everything in perfect order before we depart. I feel the condition of the house is a reflection on our 'family' and left to me it will be a pristine reflection.

Delta is getting quite excited about returning to his home country. I suppose it must be a bit unsettling to find yourself a permanent fixture amongst people of a completely different culture to your own. I would liken him to a little boy just days before Christmas. He's got a gleam in his eye and a little spring in his step.

Ms. V has granted him permission to do the driving while we are there, provided he is conservative and does so safely. I have driven in the US but I must say it does feel as though everything is turned round about. One has to concentrate a bit more on the logistics which isn't what one normally does at home.

There does seem to be more space on American roads generally, less cyclists and such. Delta claims that driving in America is far easier and less expensive. Maybe he's right on the costs, but I don't know about the simplicity of motoring in either country.

I had a lovely day yesterday with my parents. Of course some of it was solemn, but most of the day we spent enjoying good conversation and simply being together. I know I'm a very fortunate person. I try never to take happiness in life for granted.

I've signed Delta and myself up for a few volunteer projects during the holidays on days that do not coincide with Ms. V's celebrations. We are getting on better, Delta and I. I can learn from him as well as he learns from me. He's so much more outward than I am. I'm trying to find the balance between being proper/well mannered and being carefree. It may take a while.

Please be aware, faithful readers, that I will be blogging from the US. I'm told we will have internet access but will not have AOL where we are going so I will miss all of my friends in chat.

If you wish to keep up with our day to day activities in Louisiana, I will be writing specifically about those each morning or evening depending on when the opportunity presents. I'll restrain myself from philosophical diatribes temporarily. ::smile::

Ryan

For the Fallen
by Laurenc Binon

As the stars that shall be bright when we are dust,
Moving in marches upon the heavenly plain;
As the stars that are starry in the time of our darkness,
To the end, to the end, they remain.

Every year at the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month, on Rememberance Day, I spend a little time thinking of those in my family that have given their lives defending their country. There are various ones on both my mother and my father's side.

Tomorrow with the permission of Ms V, I will go with my parents and lay wreaths on the graves of those brave people who will not be forgotten and of whom my family are especially proud. I hope that everyone will take a moment to pause and consider how much we owe to those who paid the ultimate price and also to those today who are willing to do the same.

Ryan

I'm not in the mood to write but since it is a task that I've been assigned I will obey and put something down.

I don't have any serious issues with delta, my sub brother. Yes, we are different in almost every way, apart from being human and male.

1. Different nationalities
2. Different socio-economic backgrounds
3. I have a Mum and Dad and sadly he doesn't.
4. I'm more serious and he's more playful.
5. I avoid trouble and he seems to pursue it.
6. I'm overly tidy and he isn't bothered.
7. I'm horrible at maths and he excels in that area.

Due to the differences sometimes we struggle to understand each other. I know it's not that one way is 'right' and the other isn't. It is only that two males from totally different backgrounds are going to experience a little friction between themselves.

The tie that binds us (no pun intended) can be found in the common goal we share, and that is to faithfully serve and please Ms V in all things.

I know that delta has a very real desire to meet Her needs and to fit in here on the estate. Below are the five good things I can list about my brother, delta.

1. He is honest and basically reliable.

He does like to joke around (horse around?) but he can be counted on to do what he should in the end. I have no doubt that delta will continue to improve his skills as a faithful servant.

2. He has a great willingness to learn.

That always makes a big difference when one is open to learn new things.

3. He's very enthusiastic.

Almost to a fault, but again that exuberance, when channelled correctly, will take him far.

4. He is generous and has a big heart.

If he finishes his assignments he will come and find me to see if he can help. He has already asked about volunteering at the shelter with me during the holidays.

5. He isn't haughty or proud.

And maybe this is where he betters me. He is a humble boy and never assumes he is superior to anyone.

I need to do some soulsearching. Tonight I've had to look at myself in the mirror and see that I am a little too proud. It's a very ugly characteristic I need to purge myself of. There is no place for pridefulness in service.

I'm downhearted. I don't like myself very much at the moment. I need some time alone to think.

Ryan

I've been rehearsing for several weeks in anticipation of the audition I attended today. For the occasion I chose to play a composition by Andrey Rubtsov written for oboe and piano called 'Rondo Vigoroso'.

It's classed as difficult/professional so I hoped that performing it for the audition would showcase the finer points of my ability as an oboeist. As well as enjoying Rubtsov's work for it's musical integrity, I like the fact that this bloke is a year younger than I am, and yet so accomplished.

I was asked to play an excerpt of C P E Bach's Oboe Concerto in B flat-major, which fortunately didn't pose a problem either. Whew!

In the end I am happy to say that everything went according to plan, and though I will likely not know anything until the end of the month, I feel good about how smoothly it all went today.

When I arrived home from the audition I let myself in as no one was home. On the kitchen table was a note saying that Mistress had gone for a 'little shopping trip' and had taken delta along.

I'm going to be factual here, even if it does get me into trouble.

When Mistress decides to 'go shopping' She usually says She is going to just one or two shops for this or that but in reality that is rarely the case.

My wonderful Goddess has a penchant for purchasing and once She's begun the sub/slave accompanying Her can almost certainly count on following blindly (sometimes literally) behind dozens of boxes and bags filled with everything imaginable and sometimes 'this or that' isn't even included in the haul.

I smiled a little imagining delta stumbling along all but sightless beneath what was meant to be one or two things.

I set to work getting vegetables chopped for the evening meal. Considering the chill in the air I thought a homemade soup might be nice, with some of the fresh bread I'd baked Tuesday night.

A short time later the shopping brigade return. I'm surprised and a bit disappointed to see that delta doesn't even vaguely resemble an over-burdened pack mule. In fact he's not carrying anything except what looks like a little cage.

Closer inspection reveals that boy wonder has somehow steered our dear Dominant Lady out of the range of clothing, cookware, bed linens and antiques and into the local pet shop. The two of them are carrying on like dear mates fawning over this...well, this little holstein-looking rodent behind bars.

'Look, Ryan, I have a hamster! Its a girl and I'm naming her domme-ster.'

I'm rather dumbfounded, still shocked that the only other package in sight is a single, tiny parcel and Mistress Herself has that in hand.

I shake my head. Just look at the two of them. What sort of magic faerie dust has he sprinkled over Her? How on earth has She fallen for this trickery? The world may never know.

So while in chat this evening before tea I typed merrily along to online friends whilst a natty little rat crawls along my shoulders and then on top of my head with the help of it's new owner.

::groan::

I guess what Forrest Gump's 'Mamma' said was true.

'Life is like a box of chocolates... You never know what you're going to get.' And to think Mrs Gump never even had delta to contend with.

Ryan

As I've done some of my chores today and now before I begin rehearsing this afternoon, I'm pondering things about myself.

I've thought about why I'm insanely compulsive about cleaning and order. Why every little thing must be exactly in it's place. Why all items of a certain colour or catagory have to be neatly grouped together. Why all of my shirts and trousers are hung in the wardrobe exactly 5cms apart from one another on white satin padded hangers. My undergarments are folded 'just so' as are all of the towels in the house.

If I lay a book down on the table it must be exactly parallel to the edges or fashionably diagonal to them. Even if there are only Mistress, myself and delta dining, and the meal is simply sandwiches or soup, I still feel compelled to use the good china. I've never used disposable plates or cutlery in my life, even on picnics.

I suppose part of the reason for this is that propriety and etiquette were a large part of my upbringing. My father's position demanded such of him and he, in turn, demanded it of me. There was always the goal of bringing me up to be a 'proper young gentleman'.

Being an only child, it wasn't unusual for me to spend a great deal of time amongst adults. My parents knew of and enforced the 'zero tolerance' policy long before it became a commonplace rule in business and public services, lol. It was understood that I would be a 'good boy' and so I was.

Perhaps being brought up in a rather regimented way I'm compelled to continue along that path. ::shrugs::

Christmas/Winter Solstice celebrations are approaching and with that all the decorations and festivities. I will enjoy making the house into a gleaming wonderland. Again, my tendencies toward symmetry and order will get the best of me. I'm sure it drives Mistress mad at times. I know I've carried it a bit far on a few occasions as it's warrented a punishment or two... or three... or four.

I know this is a short and perhaps boring entry. Things are just a bit tense here today. I'm pulling into myself a bit due to that. I'll try to think of a lighthearted topic next time, like... hmmm my claustrophobia?

Ryan

"You haven't said anything about this to your father, have you?"

After a brief explanation of my living arrangements and the lifestyle I was involved in, this was my mother's initial response.

It was a sunny Saturday afternoon, the summer of 2004. With my father safely out with 'the lads' playing bowls I knew I'd have a few hours alone with Mum. She had been asking some very probing questions and, as time went on, it was getting more and more difficult to sidestep them. I decided to be gently direct and honest instead of leaving her in the dark.

I admitted that I hadn't been forthcoming with the information because, like most young men, I didn't feel inclined to discuss my private relationships with my parents.

She blushed a little and said 'Oh, I know that, Dear, I'm just glad you aren't gay. I want grandchildren, you know.'

I didn't respond quickly enough and so she says, 'You aren't gay are you?'

I laughed a little and asked, "Would you love me any less if I were?"

"Now you know I don't like my questions answered with questions. But of course I'd love you just the same."

I assured her that I was attracted to females and completely devoted to Ms V. I did however add a disclaimer, stating that if it pleased Ms V for me to participate in a same sex activity I would, without hesitation, comply with Her wishes. I don't think mother enjoyed hearing that but, ever the proper lady, she held her composure well.

"So...", She poured each of us a cup of tea, set out a tray of biscuits, and settled across from me at the small table in her kitchen, "She.. She hits you and you... you like it?"

I explained that within the context of our relationship that I appreciated the discipline and that yes, there was a very significant amount of pleasure I derived from the pain.

"Well, I never had a problem with you, Ryan. I never once smacked you. You were a delightful child. I can't imagine why anyone would need to discipline you." She seemed a little indignant at this point, as if to say how dare anyone think she hadn't done a good enough job bringing me up.

She wasn't exactly 'getting it'. Her misunderstanding did make me smile a little. In Mother's eyes I was always going to be 'her little boy'.

I explained that what goes on between myself and my Mistress had no relation to how she'd raised me and that, in fact, Mistress had stated on several occasions that my mother had done well in rearing such a well mannered and compliant boy.

Fortunately I'd come to the table prepared with a copy of the Easton and Liszt book, When Someone You Love is Kinky which she accepted. There were a few other questions, such as 'How did you get this way?' and 'Do you do things with other people and if so are you being safe?' I fielded these as best I could.

She accepted the lifestyle issues better than the having children issue. The only point at which we both came close to tears was when I told her I didn't see fatherhood anywhere in my future.

"But you're my only chance to have grandchildren." She had tears in her eyes.

Even now, writing this, I can feel my throat tighten a bit remembering how sad she obviously felt.

'Never say Never, Ryan.' she chided. The poor woman even suggested I possibly consider having a surrogate carry a child for me, if Ms V couldn't or wouldn't consider it.

I didn't slam shut any of the doors she was trying to open for me. I'm not heartless. I told her I wasn't able to see into the future and that she was right; no one knows what it holds. I still feel that saying that was the only way to close the topic at the time. It was too painful to discuss any further.

All of this happened two years ago. My mum has continued to be accepting of me and not judgemental. She realises that I'm a grown man now and that I must make my own way in the world.

I still have not 'come out' to my father. Even though he is a wonderful dad, I don't think he'd accept my position. At this point I cherish our closeness and don't want to jeopardise it. Perhaps that's the coward's way out, but for now it's how I wish things to remain.

My, this entry got serious. I didn't mean for it to. I was thinking it would be a lighthearted look into an awkward situation, but it's choked me up a bit here at the end. I wonder how any of you feel about situations with your family members and friends. I'm very open to hearing your experiences.

Til Next Time,
Ryan

Like many people I can't imagine my life without music.

Possibly because of my mother's influence I'm very drawn to classical composers. My particular favourites are Debussy, Haydn and of course Beethoven and Mozart. In the more modern era I have a particular fondness for Sergei Rachmaninov, Aaron Copland, Jean Sibelius and Karl Jenkins.

Two of my personal musical performing heros would be clarinetist, Richard Stoltzman and flautist, Sir James Galway, both of whom have done much to popularise their woodwind instruments.

My favourite jazz artists would be Dave Brubeck, Miles Davis, Thelonius Monk, Herbie Hancock, Michael Brecker, Gary Burton and Chick Corea to name a few.

In 'popular music' I'd have to say that the Beatles are my favourite 'non-trained' musicians/songwriters. They were talented and that as well as their persistance took them to the pinnacle of success. They'll probably be remembered hundreds of years from now, rather like Mozart, Bach and others.

I've never liked 'rap' music. I can tolerate country music but only just. 'Trance' music can hardly be considered music at all in my humble opinion.

What's in my CD player right now?
Karl Jenkins 'Requiem'

My favourite instrument to play?
That's a little difficult to say. Depending on the genre of music, for classical I prefer oboe or clarinet, for jazz definitely one of the saxophones or keyboards.

What I know I'm not good at:
Percussion (lol, don't ask)

What I'd like to learn:
To play the harp.

But back to now...

I've returned home this morning after being in London for two days. I missed going to see Jools Holland on Friday night with Mistress. She and delta went and had a superb evening. I'm glad to see delta getting a little more exposure to different styles of music. He seemed to have been very impressed with the performance and that's a good thing.

Ryan

After the first round of hide and seek, and my inappropriate action against my brother, Mistress decided that we would cease playing games. If we couldn't behave properly She'd find something else to occupy the hours of this lovely day of sunshine and warm air.

I noticed that She had that twinkle in Her eye and that ever so slight smile on Her lips. It may be something that Delta doesn't fully recognise yet, but I know that expression exceedingly well. She is contemplating either a learning experience, a fact finding mission, some sinister form of torture, or an adventure. But let there be no doubt, the wheels have been set in motion.

She gave us the signal to walk one to each side and we naturally obeyed. (I, always to Her right and he, to Her left) As it became obvious where we were headed Delta let out an audible groan. In his eyes the stable probably loomed larger than life, housing something he dreaded more that any other form of torture at that moment -- the horses.

I opened the door to the stable and straightaway Sloane leaned out of his stall to see who his visitors were.

Sloane is a five year old 15hh Dappled grey gelding who has always been very good natured. Mistress bought him about two years ago and has always been well pleased with him.

Brennan, on the other hand, is my stallion, 16hh, six years old and solid black apart from the star on his forehead. He's thrown me twice in the three years I've owned him, but I believe we've come to know one another better since the early days. I like to think we have an understanding.

Mistress' lovely, chestnut brown mare, Athena, can be described in no better way than to say she is beautiful. She's the oldest, at 7 years and measures 15hh just like Sloane. No one is allowed to mount Athena other than Mistress. Neither lady, human nor equine, will allow it.

Mistress announced that we were going to go riding down the lane that runs between two of the fields on the estate. Delta asked about clothing and he was told very matter of factly that none of the males on this expedition would be wearing clothes. He inquired about saddles and Mistress, standing ramrod straight, slowly shook Her head from side to side. "I said... NONE of the males will be wearing anything, Delta." I wish I could find the words to describe Her voice to you. Sometimes all it takes is a slight inflection of tone and this boy knows to consider himself warned.

I have no issue with riding bareback. I've been well acquainted with horses since my childhood. Delta informs us for the umpteenth time that he is 'not a horsey person'. Mistress tells him that will have to change. She enjoys riding and so will her boys. She brings Athena out of the stall and I get her fully tacked before helping Mistress to mount.

At this point we notice that Delta hasn't moved from the doorframe. Mistress looks at him, then at me and instructs me to help him. So I get Sloane's and Brennan's bridles from the tack room and after getting both horses ready I think I can mount my steed. Wrong answer. I stop Delta just before he walks behind Sloane. I ask him 'What are you doing?' He says 'I don't know.' I show him again, the proper way to mount and then help him on. Sloane, although gentle in the extreme, feels a little uneasy so I give him a rub and tell him 'it's okay'.

All this time Mistress has been patiently waiting for us. Not wanting to keep Her waiting any longer I quickly get the bridle on Bren and follow Mistress' lead. Delta seems a little calmer than he was when we arrived. He takes the reins but it's obvious he's unfamiliar with the signs of communication between man and beast. Mistress instructs me to ride alongside Delta and again teach him what to do. This is fine, as long as all we want to do is travel at a very slow walk and go straight.

We get halfway down the lane at a walk, when Sloane decides that he doesn't want to walk anymore. Mistress has to stop Athena and I go to sort Sloane out for Delta. We try all the things that usually persuade Sloane to comply but to no avail.

I am becoming a little frustrated at this point so Bren and I come alongside Delta and Sloane and I slap Sloane across his backside. That's where it all went wrong. Like a shot Sloane takes off at a gallop. Delta is hanging on for dearest life but bouncing like a rubber ball up and down on Sloane's back. It's painful to watch, even without hearing Delta's cries for help. Quickly I take action and chase after them on Bren. Its all over in a matter of seconds, but poor Delta feels as though he's seen his life flash before him. I did sympathise with Delta because anyone could see he was deeply shaken.(pardon the pun)

At Mistress' instruction I mounted Sloane and helped Delta up behind me. Mistress said she would lead Brennan back. We took it at a slow walk. Mistress was not going to push Delta any further, but by the same token She was not going to let him walk home as he'd requested. He had to be on a horse, even though it was with me. She gave him a little talk on the way back to the stable about facing his fears.

So apart from bruised testicles and hurt pride, Delta survived the day. He's now being given some riding instruction. Also Mistress has assigned him stable chores to help him gain familiarity with the horses and they with him. She always knows best.

Ryan

This Sunday past was beautiful. If you are familiar with the weather here in the UK you'll understand that a warm day of sunshine in Autumn is not to be spent frivolously. Winter will have us in it's frozen grasp all too soon. So CARPE DIEM!

Thus the three of us, Mistress, Delta and myself, did seize the day. Mistress decided that it would delight Her to allow Delta and I out-of-doors to 'frolic about'.
When it was determined that the temperature was suitable we boys disrobed and headed outside. Mistress sat comfortably in Her favourite chair in the conservatory and watched us from that vantage point.

I had tried explaining the game of conkers to delta on a previous occasion and at that time he'd indicated that he would like to try it. So armed with string from the garden shed and a couple of tapestry needles from Mistress' craft basket we set out to find some decent conkers.

As the older and more experienced 'brother' I did try to give Delta a few pointers on his selection process but he didn't seem very keen to listen. Not trusting his competitor's possibly tainted advice he set off looking under the completely wrong sort of trees for his conker. I left him to it. He'd sort it out soon enough.

Going straight to the correct set of trees at the bottom of the garden proper, I selected a few symetrical specimens that seemed hardy and firm. To test their strength and rule out flaws I took my handful out to the rainwater bucket on the other side of the shed. For those that don't know, the bad/flawed ones float. Fortunately all of my nuts sank to the bottom. (smile)

Being an American boy, Delta is quite headstrong. In several instances this stubborness has been his downfall. In the course of our gaming I think he realised it might have been wise to listen to my advice on the game instead of steadfastly refusing to hear me out.

Every time it was my turn to have a go at his conker he mistrusted my aim, worried I'd hit the wrong nut. In other words his exposed flesh rather than the product of the tree. I assured him my aim was better than that. I won't go into the details other than to tell you that I won every round. He went through four nuts before throwing in the towel.

Mistress came out for a stroll and suggested it would please Her that we play another boyish game, that of hide and seek. It was apparent by the warm look on Her face that She was enjoying our romping about.

While I spoke briefly with Mistress, Delta's hurt pride got the better of him and he decided that nakedness did not suit me and therefore he would clothe me with a armful of wet leaves head to toe. I wasn't expecting anything and the dampness and cold of those shed leaves sent a shock through me momentarily. Then the chase was on.

I have to give him credit, "Delboy" (my nickname for him, which he incidentally hates) can run. Mistress allowed the chase for a short while until we were both out of breath and then insisted Delta stay beside Her with a blindfold on whilst I hide from him. As soon as he was rendered sightless I took my cue and immediately headed for my favourite horse chestnut tree. I had to the count of thirty.

I don't mind saying that I'm an excellent climber and in no time I was nestled in some of the uppermost branches waiting. Hide and Seek is such a high suspense game whether you are the hider or the seeker. I always get a little rush of adrenaline anytime I'm the prey. But that's another story. (wink)

Delta looked everywhere and from my lofty perch I could observe him easily. It was hard not to laugh at times. He looked in every spot imaginable, in every direction bar one... up.

He would get close and Mistress would call out that he was 'getting warmer'. He still never looked up. By this time I was finding it difficult not to laugh out loud. After 15 minutes my leg muscles began to protest my crouching position and I quietly shifted my weight a little.

Delta came within range and something of the primitive male within came over me. I pulled a spikey green fruit from the tree and before I knew it I'd taken aim and hit my mark squarely on the back of the head. Too late he ducked down and put his hand to his head while simultaneously letting out a formidable expletive.

It was then that he finally looked up. I waved at him smiling. His response was to intimate that my mother was rather careless in her selection of sexual partners and then to claim my 'ass' was his personal property.

Mistress was in good spirits and bade me come down from the heights. She summoned Delta and had a look at his head and then assured him that the wound would not be fatal. When I approached him he did take a mock lunge at me, but there was nothing in it. Mistress did scold me but did so with a supressed smile...

I'll continue this story in my next post. For now it is time to help Mistress dress and start the day.

Until next time,
Ryan