Unfortunately, every year I miss Thanksgiving with my chosen family and spend it with my birth family. There's nothing wrong with my birth family. I love 'em and everything. It's just that the dinner conversation isn't nearly as interesting at my grandmother's house as it is at the Ranch. Of course, Deb's mom will be here, so the conversation will be toned down a little bit.

Let's just say I don't like being away from my girls.

Had a dream that I saw Sigourney Weaver out in a vast hotel plaza, marble and shallow steps stretching hundreds of yards. She was standing there, next to a phone booth or pillar or light pole, wearing nothing but an extra large man's button-down shirt and a pair of green cowboy boots. Her short (about four inches), curly hair was very bed-heady. She was obviously waiting for someone.

I walked up to her, and told her she was hot. She grinned down at me. Like, look at the cocky little lesbian. And she grinned. "Now isn't that nice to hear," she said. Or something like that. She invited me up to her hotel room. The only problem was, she had called a SEAL and told him to bring her breakfast. She was supposed to meet him in the plaza.

"He's a SEAL; he can find your hotel room," I said. Unfortunately, he showed up just about then with a pathetic little plate of toast and eggs. But he was nice, not at all surprised to see me. He didn't have coffee. He said he'd wanted to get that at the hotel. We all headed inside. I think that's when the pets started trying to wake me up.

I just have to say that Ladee Leroy astounds me. Thank you, you wonderful woman of bizarre ideas.

Thanks also to Tones, who send me a little something private on the side. She's now employed at a sex shop. I've been missing out. Maybe I'll spend all my time at my grandmother's house cruising D-land back entries.

Okay, once again, lots of date to report, not much energy left to report it.

Date on Sunday, some Julian, mostly straightforward.

Monday night, we were supposed to have a date, but Sara was doing some serious snoozing. I finally convinced her to get up and come over to our house to watch "Notorious C.H.O." (Fabulous: rent it, rent it, rent it; Margaret wants me). Just before Deb was due to come home, I asked Sara if she wanted to turn off the DVD and make out until Deb got home. We ran upstairs and got started. She leaned up against the cross and unbuttoned her shirt for me. That was niiiiiiiice. It wasn't long before we realized we'd need a bed pad. She had, I don't know, three massive orgasms maybe, or just one long continuous one, and gushed about a quart. Then Deb got home and I had to go help with groceries. Total time elapsed in the attic: about 3 minutes.

Tonight my office closed at 3:00 p.m., so I made a booty call and Sara picked me up at the train station. We had a great couple hours upstairs. Again we played with Julian and Eleanor. Sara put on some music and I put her into trance and started inflicting pain. I wrapped a rope around her waist three times and then bound her wrists behind her back. Then I put four clothespins on each breast. All the while kissing her, trailing my knife across her breasts, running my hands across her skin, dragging my teeth across her nipples. And I hit her across the top of her breasts with a leather slapper made of two thick straps. I pulled off the pins and then laid her face down on the futon. She said that really made the places where I'd put the clothespins throb with pain. I fucked her while her hands were still tied in place. I really got off on listening to her scream into the pillows.

She called yellow after I was done. The bondage was getting to her shoulders.

I moved her onto her back and tied her arms to the sides of the bed. More fucking.

Then Julian fucked her with one hand and, as she came, pulled her noncorporeal self out of her chest with the other and held it there, making her a shell. When she came again he gave it back.

She was way out there in headspace. I ended up with two fingers in her cunt and one in her ass. But she wasn't done with me yet. She asked Julian to mark her again. He fucked her, came inside her, cut himself and fed her, and fed on her.

Great scene. Nice send-off before a trip to Tennessee. I left her upstairs to sleep for a while and Deb got home from work soon after.

After the date, Sara called me to come over to their house so she could "show me something." I walked into the living room, and she was wearing the new knee-high boots with the mini-skirt Deb got for her and a bustier kind of top that's black lace over a flesh-color beige under-fabric. Hot, hot, HOT. I think it took me about three minutes to pull my eyes above her neck. Those boots make her about five inches taller than me, too. Just puts my mouth closer to boob level. Oh, and you could distinctly see about 37 sets of bite marks across her chest from our date. That kind of made the ensemble.

Casualty list: 3 or 4 condoms, one towel, one bed pad. Somehow, the comforter survived.