CHAINS - AND A GOLF LESSON

I've been strangely obsessed with chains lately.  Big chains, little chains, fat chains, skinny chains, but especially huge, heavy chains.  Well, not just chains, but chains with a purpose, and this, of course, involves my husband Karl.  Though he's more used to being trussed with rope, he's certainly no stranger to chains being used to connect things like his wrists and ankles to each other, and of course the thin chain between the two ends of his clover nipple clamps is definitely an old favorite.


But this was different.  I wanted to see Karl festooned (such a nice word, isn't it? ) with chains.  Chains wrapped around him and draping from his head and shoulders.  My friend Patsy, who fancies herself a bit of an expert on matters related to psychology, has assured me that my desire to cover Karl in chains stems from the death of my friend Pete.  Patsy claims that the chains represent a need to keep a loved one close at hand, under complete control and incapable of escape and/or sudden disappearance.   I lost Pete, she says, and I'm not about to lose Karl.  Thus, the chains.


Well, that's a nice theory, and perhaps there's some truth to it, but the sexual charge it gives me to see Karl wrapped up in heavy metals can hardly be related to Pete's death.  My other dear friend, Vanessa, just laughs at Patsy's theory, and puts it quite bluntly:  "You're just a sadistic Dom who loves to torture your husband.  Nothing wrong with that, right?"  Now who am I to argue with that?


At any rate, Karl has felt the cold metal quite a bit in the last few months, and my sadistic Dom mind came up with a rather unique idea to celebrate Karl's "chainhood".


Which brings us, in a very roundabout way, to the subject of golf.  Particularly the Masters golf tournament  which is the Holy Grail of golf tournaments for viewing on television, at least according to Karl.  To say that he looks forward to it every year would be a gross understatement, and naturally I love to take advantage of that situation, as my faithful readers might remember.  Karl has come to expect that he'd have to pay some price for the privilege of watching the Masters, but I think he was surprised and confused when I began asking him golf related questions a few weeks before the actual tournament which takes place in early April.


My main question concerned those chunks of grass and earth that are upended and thrown forward when a golfer hits the ball on the stretch of grass between the tee and green known as the fairway.    Karl explained that these chunks are called divots, and they occur when the golf club hits down on the ball.  "Down and through" were his exact words.  To which I responded "That makes no sense.  If you're smashing a club downward into the ball, why isn't the ball pushed into the ground?"


Karl chuckled a bit (for which he would pay later) and explained to me that the club went down only after a backswing with the club was changed into a forward swing as the golfer thrust forward and hit the ball, creating a "down and through" situation.  The force from the speeding club allowed the head of the club (the iron part at the bottom of the club) to continue through the ground and forward toward the green.  I still couldn't see how the ball got so high in the air with a club crashing down on top of it, down and through or not, but he patiently explained that the metal head of the clubs were angled so that the ball actually went forward and rose in the air off the head at the same time that  the head continued downward into the ground, and a divot was created when the club continued its forward arc into something called a "follow through". The height of the ball and the length of the stroke varied from clubhead to clubhead, and there were a good dozen of these metal clubs to choose from.  He went on about club length and backspin and a lot more that I won't bore you with until I was fairly dizzy.  I  finally stopped him from any more explanations and asked the question I really needed an answer to:


"That's enough Karl.  What I want to know is which of these iron clubs makes the deepest cut and the biggest divot?"  Karl gave me a quizzical look, but he was much too smart to ask WHY I needed this information, and after some thought said "Well, you can get a big divot with any club, but most commonly the biggest ones are with what's known as the "short irons", which would be the nine iron, the pitching wedge and the sand wedge."


That was what I needed to hear, and I cut off the conversation before Karl could go into some long winded explanation about these three clubs.  No doubt he was frustrated, as he could probably go on for hours about anything golf-related, but enough was quite enough.  I now had the information I'd wanted, and my diabolical golf day surprise for Karl was going forward perfectly.


A few days before the Masters, I told Karl that if he wanted to watch the tournament he'd have to be in slave mode, and that his behavior would determine whether or not he'd be allowed to watch the event.  He'd serve my needs on Saturday without any viewing of the tourney, but on Sunday, the final day, he'd have a chance to see the entire finale.  On that day he'd be serving me, Patsy and Vanessa, and once again his behavior would determine how much of the tournament he'd be allowed to see.  The TV coverage went from early afternoon and on into the evening, so we'd see if he did well enough to watch it all or even any of it.


Karl nodded and said "Thank you for the opportunity, Milady."  He bowed and kissed my extended hand, to which I responded "Now kiss my feet and remember that as of Saturday, you'll refer to me as "Your Highness".  If I were you, I'd start getting into the proper head right now."


And so he did.  I'll finish this with my next posting.