Base BLUE balls

It was a terrible baseball season here in Denver. The Rockies had the kind of season that leads one to imagine ancient curses seeping out of old graves beneath the stadium or the ghosts of restless players who can only be redeemed in the middle of a corn field.

Yes, it was THAT bad. 

Record number of losses for a single season.

The team manager resigning in disgrace.

Pitchers being chased down the 16th St mall with pitchforks and torches....

A very ugly picture.

But who I really felt bad for was PC. He has loved the game of baseball since about the time he could walk. He's played, he now coaches, he follows the season faithfully.  His office is fairly spartan, but with the exception of one picture, what decor he does have is all baseball related. 

There's a jersey on the wall above his conference table.  It's autographed by his boyhood hero.

So when I heard him say he totally lost interest in the game this season it about broke my heart.  Mr. Baseball just didn't care this year.

Not that I could blame him, but it still just wouldn't do.  Something had to done.

It was about then that I realized he hadn't been in chastity for awhile, and genius struck.

So I told him for the rest of the season he could only come if the Rockies won a game.  That caught his attention. 

That was back in August, and the Rockies just played their last game last week. (They actually one that one.) The season had a few ups, but many, many downs, which made for a very long couple of months for PC.

But it certainly kept him interested. 

~Lady Koregan

Is There Femdom in Baseball?

Is there Femdom in baseball?

There may very well be, at least in the stands anyway.

I was watching the Nationals cream our local Rockies the other day when I think I caught a glimpse of someone's Domestic Discipline dynamic.

An attractive older woman approached her seat, but stopped short. A man sitting there had his legs stretched out, blocking the row.

She gave him the look.

THAT look.

The look so well known by wayward males in trouble and the ladies who give it to them. That unmistakable look that, were it a hand, would be paddling the man right through the plastic seat.

He scrambled to his feet, apologizing as he did so. As the woman settled into her seat she leaned over to whisper into his ear. The man squirmed in his seat in a way as unmistakable as that look.

Whether he was in for a spanking, corner time, lines, or just extra chores, he was DEFINITELY in trouble when they got home.

I wonder if he enjoyed the rest of the game...

~Lady Koregan