Ouch.

Mistress and Slave finally made it to our destination yesterday: The UCTMW Mountain Zone Branch Office was in good shape, and the temperatures had fallen to manageable levels as we gained a little altitude and created some distance from Kansas.

But we did have time yesterday morning to have some wake-up sex in Colorado. Mistress’s skin seemed particularly soft and fragrant after that bubble bath the evening before, and since we had no schedule, I made sure to take my time to enjoy and relish every square inch of her.

Before we hit the road, we did stop by another “attraction”, “Bent’s Old Fort”, which sits on what used to be (in the 1840’s) the border between USA and Mexico, on the banks of the Arkansas “River”, which seems more like a meandering puddle this time of year.

It had a history as a fur trading post on the frontier, smack dab on the Santa Fe Trail. And we found what Donna suggested we should be shopping for: several vintage saddles that would work quite well should Mistress decide to take her Slave for a spin.

I’m not sure how comfortable that wooden one would be on my aging back, but I’m always game, if it pleases Mistress.

After our little trip through the history of the region, we were back in our car. Mistress napped. Slave drove, while juggling work emails. I wonder if those folks even knew I was so far away, tooling across the Comanche grasslands, where you could just imagine the herds of Bison, tracked by their human predators.

By late afternoon, we had made it: about 24 hours of driving and at least as much time lazing about and taking in the sights. Not a bad way to take some time off. Mistress has said it’s like a honeymoon for us – kids off on their own and some time to ourselves without a fixed schedule.

Nice.

But Slave stepped in it a bit shortly after our arrival, as clumsy Slaves are want to do.

We were unpacking groceries. It was after 5 pm on the east coast. I had mentally “retired” for the weekend.

And my damn cell phone went off.  I probably let out a curse of frustration. And then took the call outside to deal with a business associate who just had to have a last word before the weekend.

When I came back in, Mistress was, shall we say, “displeased”.

I had inadvertently re-awoken some memories from three summers ago, when Mistress and Slave were not in a good place. I won’t go into the details, but we were still on that commuter marriage, and Slave was being an asshole…. True.

I certainly did not want to throw a damper on our first evening here in paradise, so I offered myself up….or I guess I offered my ass up.

“Would you like me to get the riding crop, Mistress?”

(In all honesty, I was probably hoping that the offer alone might be enough to defuse the situation…alas….)

She contemplated a minute, and then agreed.

“That’s a good idea, Slave…. go get it.”

She unpacked her bag, and directed me to “lose the pants and underwear”.

Soon I was lying back side up across our bed, and she was lighting into me.

“This is for taking that asshole tone, Slave….and reminding me of a time I’d rather forget….”

Man, that hurt. I was bouncing off the bed with each stroke. Biting into the quilt to stifle my crys of pain, doing all I could do to resist the impulse to avoid her blows. 

I probably was acting like a spoiled Slave (as many of you probably think I am.)

But I think from my pathetic display, Mistress knew that her message had been received.

When she finally concluded that I had my just punishment, she put down the crop and picked up her I-phone camera.

“Stay still Slave…. I’m going to email you this photo and want you to post it tomorrow to show all our blog friends what happens when my Slave misbehaves.”

“Yes, Mistress….”