Everyone Needs a Critic

Here in River City, Mistress and Slave are doing their best to get used to the intrusion upon our privacy by two young women who have "made themselves at home".

The older one really isn't much of a bother. She's taking a Science class this summer, and tends to keep to herself and her cats.

The younger one, however, likes to make her presence known, usually by finding  things to criticize her parents about.  Sunday it was her interrupting my breakfast out on our deck to ask when I was going to the grocery store to pick up some food items she required, then adding "you've got food on your face...." Well I was eating breakfast, and Mistress didn't seem to be offended if there was (literally) a little egg on my face.

Yesterday she was taking issue with Mistress's shoes (they make your feet seem too small?); legs (too tanned or slippery?) and dress (too bright?).

Then for dinner last night, the non-meat eater took issue with the lox I had purchased to put on a salad. "I don't like that type". When I pointed out it was basically the same stuff she had ordered on ehr $10 bagel Friday morning in DC, she acted like I was insane.

It's going to be a long summer with them.

Fortunately, they have gotten used to the fact that we seal ourselves off in the Executive Suite here at the UCTMW World HQ for long unexplainable periods of time, as we did last night after a long work day.

Mistress was due some worship, and Slave was happy to play his proper role in releasing a little of that long Monday stress.

But no sooner had she finished with her little orgasmic hors deurveher text message chime went off.

"When's dinner."

Well, at least she hadn't barged in to ask the question.