I know you're angry and upset that I left you alone, disappearing for 48 hours. And you have every right to be. I have to confess, I have been with my new lover. Direct TV. No, no. Don't cry. Everything will be okay, I promise.

I met Direct TV on Friday, and she just has a certain magnetism that I couldn't tear myself away from until now. She's clear and crisp and ever changing. She's very different from you. She's gentle on my wrist. I know we've had this talk before. It will always be an issue with us.

But she has flaws too. She's expensive. And if I got everything I wanted from her, like HBO, she would extract too high a price. And she doesn't have UPN/UPA or the WB. With her I cannot watch Buffy or Angel or the Gilmore Girls. I know. You wonder why I ever gave her a second glance. But I didn't know. I didn't know. And now I have learned to appreciate her for her other positive qualities.

Diaryland, I want you to know that you feed my creative soul. Direct TV will never be able to give me that. But she gives me things like Battle Bots and Iron Chef and true crime documentaries. And those things have been missing from my life. I hope that the three of us can work something out.

I love you Diaryland. And I promise I won't abandon you for so long ever again.

�Badsnake

Yeah, I got it. And I've been watching it. It's amazing. No extra magenta heads on people, or fuzz and static, no picture changing from color to black-and-white and back to color again, or *xccchhhhhhhh* sound overpowering the dialog.

But they don't have UPN or WB! How can that be? Morons. And the installation scheduling was a nightmare. The didn't show up on Thursday, so I scheduled them for Friday afternoon when I would be home. They came on Friday morning about 3 minutes before Deb had to leave for work. Sara stayed at the house with the installation guy and took care of the package selection ordeal for me. What a good neighbor.

When I got home Friday afternoon, she and Jake were layed out on our couch, side-by-side, mesmerized by an Indigo Girls concert.

I went outlet mall shopping on Saturday and got five new pairs of pants, and some rockin' new boots, and some sneakers. And a new bra. You'll get the review on it when I try it out. It's a 4X Champion sports bra. It's built like it's designed to hold back flood waters. You know, I am not that big a woman, but it's all I can do to find a bra that will go around my rib cage without bruising me. I have never worn a 4X anything. And the cups kinda point my tits a little more East and West than I'm used to. It's like lift and separate with a restraining order that rules one breast should not approach within one foot of the other.

Sara made blueberry coffeecake for breakfast. It was muy yummy.

Every Sunday morning Deb and Sara go through the coupons from the newspaper. Deb holds up a coupon for some pads with wings and asks if I use that kind.

Badsnake: No, I like the plain kind. The wings are sort of hard to deal with. They come loose and end up stuck to my pubic hair. The last batch I got was a really wide kind (I illustrate by holding my hands up about eight inches apart). What am I supposed to do with something that wide? Oragami in my panties?

Big laugh. Predictions of interesting Google hits.

Deb's making pot roast, cobbler, and cinnamon vanilla ice cream for dinner tonight. Num.

Sara and I finally got to have a date last night. She's in her high-hormone phase and wanted something ritualistic involving a lot of leather. Oh, yeah.

I geared up with the strap-on, my new 501s, chaps, new boots, black t-shirt, and a pair of leather gloves tucked into my pocket. We played with Eleanor and Julian. It took me less time to get into the intensity than I thought it would. I was rough and arrogant. More like Julian in the old days.

I started out playing with her nipples by running them through the tread of my boot while she was on her knees on the floor and I was sitting on the futon. A perfect fit. I had her take all of her clothes off and ran the tread across her belly and chest. I told her to brace her feet on my thighs as I stood over her, and then I grabbed her legs, spread them, and put the heel of my boot right into her crotch. Mmmmmm.

I had her move to the smaller futon on the floor, still on her knees, and went to whip my dick out. But it was more like prying than whipping. I had some trouble with one of the buttons on my fly. She said, "Too big for your britches?" I stuffed a glove in her mouth. She really liked that. Then I delivered a pretty rough face fucking and then took her on the futon, once with my cock and once with a leather gloved hand. During the course of the night I did a lot of holding my gloved hand over her mouth so she'd get the full leather smell. There was also biting and feeding throughout the evening.

Let's see .... I gave her a turn at doing what she wanted, and she loved on my cock with her mouth for a long time while I sprawled on the futon. Then it was time for the cross.

I tied her arms to the upper beams with a wraparound half-knot that turned into wraps around her torso, and I shackled her ankles below. She was well immobilized. I worked the knife on her, did full clothespin daisies around her breasts, and then she asked for wax. I had lit a lot of candles, so there was plenty to be had. I poured the melted wax of four votives into a glass candleholder and poised it over her chest.

She alternated between sqeezing her eyes tightly shut and staring up at the wax about to fall. I poured small streams across her chest, nipples, belly. Then we tried to take some pictures, but the lighting sucked and using a flash blew out all the interesting details.

I took the clothespins off. That was the longest time endurance she's ever done with those. Very, very, very impressive. I peeled the wax away with my knife. And I think that's when I unshackled her ankles and picked her up by the thighs while she lifted herself with the crossbar and I fucked her that way. We were hopping that St. Andrews cross across the room. Hrnk. A lot of effort, but very fun.

She was like a ragdoll when I let her down around 10 o'clock. So was I. But we only needed a short rest before starting up again. It was hard to quit when 11 o'clock rolled around. She said she could've (and wanted to) go six or eight more times. UNGH.

Casualties: three condoms, two bed pads, four towels, eight candles, my t-shirt (soaked during ejacutlation), leather gloves (just need to be saddlesoaped again). I think the comforter survived.