I heard her firm knock on my door and my knees shook. Oh, we’d met many times before but tonight was the first time alone in private and we both kne... its significance. Our emails had been clearly explicit. We both knew the other well enough – we had trust and fondness. Preparing for her visit was exquisite anticipation. I had shaved myself smooth as I knew she wanted. I had taken an enema. She demanded cleanliness. New silk stockings held up with suspenders attached to a tight, black satin,. As she recovered she stared at me then, with a wicked grin on her face, she asked me if I had enjoyed it, then called me a slut. Pinching my left nipple and it hardened to her touch. "When I ask something to you, slut, you have to answer properly!" she commanded “you will answer and refer to me as Mistress Serena" "I... Yes..." I answered hesitantly. "Yes what?” "Yes I enjoyed it Mistress" "On all fours!" she ordered. "While I am with you, you won't talk unless asked. You won't move unless. I knew that if I sat next to you, we’d end up fucking. I don’t think its proper for me to have playtime when my gorgeous wife lays in a hospital bed in a coma. Does that make any sense?” I’m asking her, trying to be as heartfelt as possible.“Yes, Master. I understand." She says to me.I put my hand on her thigh. I rub it gently hoping that she really understood.The time passed quickly. Fred regaled us with tales from his days in the Navy.The reference of his military days made me think of my. You can't help but let out a yawn as you push yourself off your seat, and a moment later, you hope to the ancient gods that you haven't embarrassed yourself. None of them answer your wish, but quite fortunately, the train car is utterly devoid of anybody but you and the stoic-looking young man sitting down the car, and he hasn't taken a single glance in your direction. It honestly feels somewhat creepy, like the start of a horror simulation you dove into once, but it makes sense at least. Not.