Run in With the Domme-atologist

After Mistress's "2 lovers in three days" adventures earlier this week, things definitely went downhill fast here at the UCTMW World HQ.  Poor Mistress has the dreary duty of traveling to the east coast and pack up and retrieve our last remaining Co-Ed from her college campus for the holidays. It was a long drive home, and it sounds like our "loving daughter" was at her bitchy best.

She may be a "Domme in Training" but can't she take it out her angst on some pathetic frat boy rather than her parents?

You can bet that slave missed Mistress while she was out of town on her daughter retrieval mission. And relieved when she arrived back after that long drive on Thursday evening. I made sure there was a warm dinner and even warmer bed for her, with some extra Worship tossed in at the end of the day.

So we now have a particularly crowded house - including our older daughter's recently graduated boy friend, who has been hanging around more frequently this week. All of these occupants have forced us to crank up the Christmas music in our bedroom to mask the sounds of our furtive couplings.

It's not the best way to get into the holiday spirit.

My own Friday was less than relaxing. I've had some feisty and demanding clients this week, just when I thought that things would calm for the end of the year.  On top of that I had another run in with my Domme-ish lady dermatologist yesterday afternoon - the one in the leather pants and kinky boots.

After having me strip down to my skivvies and don one of those pathetic back open robes, She and her rather butch assistant spent about 30 minutes torturing me with sharp objects and some strange electric device that sizzled my skin.  Thankfully the magic of lidocaine dampened the pain. My guess is that her more masochistic patients  pass on that little numbing shot to add to the thrill. As the process unfolded I began to empathize with the Thanksgiving Turkey we carved up a few weeks ago.

At some point, as she reached for a sharper carving tool, she asked me in her vaguely middle eastern accent "how are you doing...."

"Other than the humiliation of laying here in my underwear, I guess I'm doing ok."

I figured Terri would appreciate that line.

And it made me  question why I had worn those old cotton briefs, rather than the glossier black or turquoise and much silkier undies that Mistress purchased me for my birthday last month.

(No readers, they aren't ladies' wear. But they are of a synthetic fabric that is much clingier and softer to the touch than what my traditional  undie drawer used to be stuffed with.  I don't think this is the first step in some sort of "sissification" reprogramming by Mistress, is it?)

It made me wonder if the Domme-atologist and her assistant had ever had some seemingly alpha- patient strip down to his skivvies and find some alluring pink panties instead.

It also made me grateful that Mistress hadn't insisted that I wear my cock cage to work on Friday.

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