The Mistress

(Wherein the UCTMW media empire makes it's play for a Bl-Oscar)

THE END

(Roll Credits. Collect Awards. After Party!)

Back at It....

It was good planning that Mistress and Slave left themselves a full day to adjust to the time shift before heading back to work here in River City.  We spent the day yesterday doing very little of consequence - a morning trip to the gym, a walk in the chilly sunshine, time catching up with the news, and visiting with our respective mothers.

But there was some residual pent up sexual demand to deal with.  Yes, there had been that very early morning encounter when we both woke up at about 9 am Paris time ( 3 am here). But after Mistress read the blog, accompanied by some worshipful oral devotions, her work-a-day cock was more than ready for a second round of morning sex.  We took it slow, and made sure that all the kinks were worked out before Slave requested permission to come. 

Fortunately, she was in an indulgent mood.

We also had some time to reflect on our trip. While dealing with the sullen teen had been trying at times - she clearly was not in the mood for us to treat her as "our little girl" - it was a once in a life time chance to spend a full week in one of the World's greatest cities.  Maybe next time (if there is one) we can ditch the kids and spend a little more time exploring the sensual side of Paris.... though there were a few hints we were able to capture in pixils.  I mean, where else can you find naked cock fighting?

Or perfume ads with a bondage theme?
Or even memorial stones with a kink for the twisted among us?  No, the next time we will definitely need to search more of this out.   Now, I think it's time for me to head back up to the Executive Suite to make sure Mistress has a little extra time to kick off our return to the offices in fitting UCTMW style.

Meanwhile.... back at the UCTMW World HQ

Mistress and Slave made it back from their Parisian adventure to visit their long lost sullen teen.  One fear I had about arranging this journey, about 4 months before her year abroad ends, was that she would have a meltdown on the last day and beg to go home with us.

As it turned out, that was not the problem. Instead, it seemed after about 4 days we had overstayed our welcome. By yesterday morning when we dropped her off at the Gare du Nord (she reminded me more than a few times that you don't pronounce either the "r" or the "d"), she seemed more than happy to have us skedaddle back to the banal world we come from, and to take our shoddy table manners and unsophisticated habits with us.

Nevertheless, Mistress and Slave did have a wonderful time, with more time to ourselves over the last two days. There was great eating, strolling, sight seeing and appreciating the more elegant and sensual lifestyle of this great city, with its soft pathways, winding alleys, and charming Bistros.

Of course, back here in River City we had some adjusting to do after the nine hour flight home. It was colder, we were back behind the wheel rather than strolling or riding the Metro, and that six hour time shift was a bit of a bear.

But fortunately we had what amounted to a whole weekend left to ourselves, in the empty nest, to adjust. 

Who can complain about that?

After the mail was opened and the cats were reassured that their human companions had returned, Mistress elected to go get some deferred maintenance done on her fingertips and feet. It was Slave's job to re-stock the larder.

But I was reminded via text, somewhere in the produce department, that on my return home there would be a cropping in my future. a list of pecadillos had been run up during that week away, where the lack of privacy had prevented swift justice. 

Ouch.

But as it turned out, by the time Mistress returned, and I had stored away the groceries, she was too tired for corporal punishment. Instead there was some plain old raucous sex in the executive suite, preceded by some much deferred worship.  It was nice to be able to go full throttle after a week, without the need to stifle or listen for the key in the lock of our little apartment in the Marais.

And while out own little "Temple of Love"  may not have high ceilings or stained glass like St. Chappel, it's great to be able to keep the door open and not worry about volume.

After a nap that seemed like it could have gone on much longer, Slave assembled our dinner: a roast chicken and sauteed spinach. And by then we were a little too tired even to turn on the TV.  Instead we retired to our cozy bed, caught up on the papers, and read until it was what passed for a suitable eastern time zone bed time.

Of course, we woke at a crazy hour this AM. Was it 2 am, or 3 here ? But 9 am Paris time? The cats missed us, apparently. One was licking my hand while the other was parked on my ass.   

It seemed there was only one prescription for nocturnal readjustment (after the cats were shown the door).

"Would Mistress like her Slave to fuck her?"

"My cock is always welcome, Slave...."

Yes, we'll always have Paris.  But wherever we have an empty nest, I'm happy to call home.

Correction Time

When Bill called me back to the bedroom this afternoon, I thought he was inviting me back to have an opinion about a bookshelf. Wrong. I should have known from his tone of voice that it was about more than that.

As I entered the doorway, I spied a wooden paddle, a flogger, handcuffs, the Hitachi and a short black nightie laid out on the bed. Oops! Seems like my bad behavior had caught up with me.

He looked at me sternly and raised one eyebrow. He nodded toward the bathroom and instructed me to take care of things. When I headed back into the bedroom, I was naked and clean and Bill stood naked in front of me. I offered to suck him off, but he said that while my talents make him lose track of the world for a moment or two, we would still be getting around to the spanking, so why not just get it overwith. I could think of a few reasons I might want to delay things but, surprisingly, managed to say nothing.

And so, he pulled the short nightie over my head, gave me a kiss, locked the handcuffs on my wrists and positioned me over the side of the bed. He flipped the tail of the nightie up over my back, and, after a warm-up consisting of a slow butt rub with an occasional swat, the swats came closer together and the rubbing between swats shorter and shorter until we were all the way into a full-fledged spanking.

Damn, that hurts. I had just a moment's reprieve as he reached over for the paddle and soon the deeper "thuds" began. I was twisting a bit and trying hard not to cry out when he switched to the flogger. A different smack and a different sting come with the flogger. It isn't less pain, just different.

Often I am given a count of swats, or a length of time when I know things will stop, but it was a major error on my part that had brought us here, so I had no idea how long it would last. At some point I was aware of Bill making a comment about simple being best and setting aside the flogger to go back to spanking with his hand. Then finally, it was done.

At least I thought it was.

He quickly repositioned me into a kneeling downward dog position, grabbed the Hitachi and flipped the switch.

Golly Ned! The Hitachi can be a wonderful sex buddy, or it can be a pain, literally, if held in one position against a delicate area. Want to guess which it was this time? Now that isn't to say I didn't cum. I orgasmed a couple of times, and was begging for it to stop. And, seemingly unfazed by my begging, when Bill thought the time was right, he backed off and began to using a much lighter touch. When I heard him chuckle as I came again, I knew we were well and truly almost finished with the punishment.

And that meant we could move on to the apology part of the program. Bill feels that I offer my best apology to him with his cock in my mouth. So I was positioned on the opposite side of the bed, flipped over onto my back, and my head was eased just enough off the edge of the bed that he could easily slide his penis between my lips. I worked on sucking, licking and tonguing a decent apology, and sucking like that is such a sensual thing to do that I had another orgasm, and this time when I came, it had more to do with pleasure than the pain/pleasure combination.

Bill's ejaculation was all about pleasure, and he accepted my apology. He removed the handcuffs positioned me on the pillows to rest and covered me with a blanket.

And now the situation is done, over, finished, and won't be mentioned again.

I love that. Learn the lesson and move on, leaving the past in the past. It works for us.

Mick and Molly are on their way home right now and will hopefully be returning to their inspirational sex schedule. Hopefully they were able to avoid the effects of withdrawal during their stay with their teen. 
 


Donna