Twitching with angst as he waited in the large banquet room for his wife to be returned to him. It had been a month since he had her a*****ion arranged by the society. It was the longest month of his life but it was finally over and he would get to have his new slave wife he had paid for. He was not alone in the room. Many other society clients waiting like him, or were just here as members enjoying the facilities. Several companion and pain slaves wandered about the room, a few companions. I was strolling along the Boulevard Haussmann, just outside the Magasin au Printemps where the pretty girls were selling their bunches of lily of the valley as they traditionally used to do on the first day of May. I wasn't looking where I was going, daydreaming as usual and distracted by the sweet scent of the flowers that evoked pleasant thoughts of past amours and were rich with the promise of future joys in the arms of a beautiful woman.You could say we bumped into each other, but more. Amazingly, I'd become both an aviator and aspy. Unfortunately the spy I'd become wasn't Sidney Reilly. It was MataHari.The following day was a Friday, the first one in September. Comelunchtime I took my place at my favourite table outside the cafe on thevillage square, as I always did. Having risen late I'd missed bothHelmut and Gerda at breakfast, which may have been just as well as I wasa bit under the weather and didn't feel much like indulging in smalltalk. I was still feeling a little. I was more excited for the party than I had thought, images of Michelle in a swimsuit constantly swimming through my mind's eye throughout the day. More than once, I found myself rooted to my desk, knowing that people would easily see my excitement if I were to walk around the office. My slacks weren't designed to hold an erection in tight and conceal it.When 5:30 finally arrived, I shut down my computer and gathered my things together. I practically sailed down the hallway and the stairs to my.
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