1: Cinq à Sept: Maîtresse Georgina

"Du Cinq a Sept"

'The two-hour period after work from five to seven pm, when individuals meet up with their lovers before going home to their spouses. Vive le France, as they say.'

Andrea stood there as the M14 carriage doors slid closed behind her with a swish and a shuck. As the torque built up and the metro began to roll away, the subsequent whine started a pounding in her chest. She looked across the platform and remembered first stepping onto the Marie de Saint-Ouen station train. That time she had been here viewing an apartment. Fast-forwarding six months and € 1'500'000 later, she was back with the keys in her pocket on the brink of changing her life.

Andrea had kept discreet anonymity with every element relating to the apartment. She had only exposed herself to three individuals thus far throughout buying, decorating, and funding the flat.

Her lawyer Sandrine Abreu had expedited all the legal entanglements concerning her apartment purchase on 42 Rue Anselma. Sandrine also managed the costs relating to the running of the apartment through her legal practice. She had met the estate agent once when the lady had shown the apartment, but Andrea hoped that the large glasses and face mask worn during Covid had hidden her appearance from him. The last had been Hervé Buillon, the interior designer.

She had met Hervé a few times and sworn him to secrecy. Nevertheless, she had also insisted on being alone in his office without his assistant as she gave him a detailed brief for every room in the apartment. Each room was intended to have its individual feel and theme. The decor was to be elegant, sophisticated, and chic. Herve had managed to create for her a perfect private haven, a secret hideaway from her friends, family and most certainly from her husband.

Her plan had been a complete success until the point where Andrea strode towards the station's exit. The only problem was that she wondered if she would be brave enough to go through with it all.

She exited the darkness of Marie de Saint-Ouen station and stepped into the cool breeze of a Parisian afternoon. The sun was low, and the light had a tinge of orange. She looked down at her watch and saw it was approaching 16:15. Andrea would need to get a move on if she wanted to be ready for five.

As she walked southwest onto la Place de la Republique, her heart still thumping in her chest, she sheepishly looked around for anyone who may recognise her, not that anyone would. Andrea rarely headed this far North to Saint-Denis, preferring to stay near the bars, shops, and restaurants around her home in the 7th Arrondissement. As she crossed out of the square, she headed down Avenue Gabriel Péri. She considered all the things that had led her to this point.

She had met her husband Gabriel at university, and they instantly fell in love. They were both independently well off, so the relationship was financially balanced, a rarity in Paris. Gabriel began working for Lloyds Register Group Limited right out of university. They surveyed maritime ships and prepared a register for underwriters and merchants on the conditions of vessels before they were insured. She didn't understand or care, but it did allow them to live in the 7th Arrondissement. She loved him dearly, but he often travelled with work and was rarely home. Like ships in the night (pun intended), they hardly saw each other, slowly drifting apart.

Interestingly, however, she still found him intellectually attractive. They still enjoyed the crossword in the Sunday paper together, talked politics and were happy in each other's company, particularly with a glass of full-bodied red wine. It was sexually where the gulf had occurred. He was always tired, and when they made love, it was very formulaic, almost scripted. Touch this, suck that, missionary position, orgasm face and then sleep. Andrea craved more, needed more, and one night after another lacklustre performance of mediocre sex, she lay awake in the dark, hatching her escape to pleasure.

Her four-inch heels clacked along the uneven surface of the pavement as she turned left onto the Rue Anselme. Popping into the florist, Andrea bought a seasonal bloom of flowers, and she smiled to herself. Nobody ever bought her flowers anymore, and she had decided to always have fresh flowers in the vestibule at her new place. She wanted this place to be a place of joy, discovery and fulfilment, a place for her to express her desires and explore her fantasies.

That's what this place was, her love den, where she might invite guests for a few hours to scratch the itch she craved and to fulfil her desires. All between 'Cinq à Sept -- five to seven.'

The flowers hung in the crook of her arm. She walked past the burgundy awning of the boulangerie and stopped at the door. Its dark wood, old and unkempt, the brass handle worn by years of use and the keyhole scuffed by a thousand keys missing their target. She fumbled in her pocket, glanced around, took the key and unlocked the latch when she saw no prying eyes on her. Andrea entered the dark foyer, stepped over various pamphlets and takeaway menus, and headed towards the elevator. It was an old, gated elevator with two sliding doors and a brass panel with white buttons. Andrea slid the gate open, then closed it and pushed five.

"To the top," She thought as the ornate carriage spluttered upwards. She disembarked at the top, crossed the short hallway, and unlocked the front door. The smell of fresh paint was still in the air, which was not ideal. The apartment needed good airing; she knew it would not get any air today. She had bought the flowers and planned to place them in a vase by the door, hoping to soften the smell and help with first impressions.

Andrea had anticipated her first encounter with excitement. Her first 'Cinq à Sept'. She hoped these trysts would bring her the longing and experiences she craved, push her sexually in new directions, and help her grow and return the Joie de Vie to her Vanilla life.

Looking at the clock, she noticed it was 16:40

"Merde, 20 Minutes," she said as she hurried to the bedroom, unfastened and removed her jacket. Placing it on a hanger, she opened the armoire and hung it neatly on the rail. She smiled as she looked over the growing collection of accessories she had bought and ordered online and could not help thinking she may have gone a little over the top and slipped out of her shoes and placed them neatly in the cupboard.

Andrea reached for her phone and re-read Georgina's last text message.

"I am looking forward to spending an afternoon with you."

Although there was nothing monumental in the message, Andrea could not help feeling a little apprehensive about the situation.

As an afternoon tryst, Andrea didn't know how she would act when Georgina arrived. Should she offer her a coffee, a glass of wine and a chat or lead her to her bedroom? The butterflies in her tummy fluttered furiously in her stomach as she recalled the scene she wanted to play out today. This was her first scene with a woman and her first fantasy as part of her new secret life.

Unexpectedly the buzzer rang, which made her jump. She turned to the door and noted the time on the mantle clock as 16:45. Reaching for the intercom gave a polite "Oui."

"Bonjour, Its Georgina"

"Please come up," she replied, giving her guest the apartment number, her trembling finger pressing the open button on the intercom. Andrea leaned against the front door and closed her eyes, holding the phone to her thumping chest.

It felt like an age before she heard the liftgate open and shut with a screech and clang and then the slow walk of heeled footsteps along the hall. The buzzer rang, and she turned to face the door. "Here we go she thought" as she opened the door.

Stood at the threshold of her doorway was an elegant dress woman. Three-inch heels, curvy long black nylon-clad legs disappearing under a leather skirt with a gold-coloured zip running up the front. Over the top, a black cashmere Newbury coat and the hint of a black silk camisole underneath. Her alabaster white face shone in the landing lights framed by long red curls. Her natural smile beamed across her face.

"Entre s'il vous plait" Andrea said, holding the door open and ushering her into the apartment. Georgina walked through the door, and as she did, she rolled a small weekend roller suitcase behind her.

Guiding her to the lounge, Andrea offered her guest a refreshment, which Georgina accepted by asking for a glass of wine. Andrea nervously hurried to the kitchen and poured two glasses before returning to the lounge. She stopped by the mirror in the hall and checked her appearance. The early arrival meant that Andrea felt a little scruffy compared to her guest, and running her fingers through her hair quickly proceeded to take the glasses into the lounge.

Georgina was sitting one leg over the other in one of the two ornate armchairs that would not have looked out of place in an old Chateau had it not been for them having recently been reupholstered in leather with gold beading. Andrea handed her wine and perched at the edge of a similarly upholstered leather ottoman chaise longue.

The two small talked as they drank their wines; the Dutch courage the merlot gave Andrea helped to dampen some of her nerves until she saw the case discreetly opened by the wall. The bag's black felt interior was teaming with various toys, ropes, whips and other paraphernalia, which made Andrea gasp a little with the realisation that this would happen. Georgina had noticed her looking past her at the case and smiled. "You did say you wanted to be dominated by me, didn't you?"

"Yes!"

"Do you consent to me turning you into my plaything this afternoon?"

"Sorry?"

"Andrea, I need you to consent to me dominating you today. Do you consent?"

"Oh, Oui," she replied with a slight quiver of excitement and a touch of apprehension. "It is my first time, Sorry; I'm a little nervous."

"It's ok, my petite." "You will call me Mistress from now on!" her expression changed almost instantly at the permission to take control. "Mon, petite, I will give you what you requested, but you will do as I ask. Do you Understand?"

"Yes."

"Yes, what?" Georgina snapped back.

"Yes, Mistress."

"That's better Mon petite."

As Georgina sat back in the chair, Andrea let her eyes wander over Mistress, her skirt riding up a little to show more of her thigh. Georgina's leg lifted and draped itself over her knee, her heel sliding out of the shoes and hanging from her toes; it swung loosely as she finished her sip of wine.

"Mon petit, I didn't say you could look at me like that, did I?

"No, Mistress," replied Andrea. She had done enough background reading to know that not doing what she was told, would not do her any favours, even if the punishment was what she was hoping for in the end.

"Stand and face the wall," she demanded. "I don't want little whores like you leering at me like that."

Slowly Andrea stood and began to walk to the wall adjacent to the doorway.

"Putain, Quicky!" ordered Georgina, and as Andrea hurried to her place, she felt a shimmer of shame that she had let her Mistress down again.

Andrea stood with her fingertips pressed against the wall at chest height as she reached the wall. She had seen this on an online BDSM site and thought it would make her Mistress happy to see her adopt this position.

It felt like she had stood there an age before she heard Georgina stand behind her. She wanted to turn back, but something made her remain facing the wall.

"Very nice, mon petite. Do you know what happens to little whores who don't know how to listen?"

"No, Mistress."

"They get punished. Do you think that's fair?" Georgina said, her tone becoming more intense.

"Yes, Mistress, please punish me," said Andrea, her hands becoming moist from the sweat dripping from her palms.

Andrea's body trembled as she felt Georgina move in closer behind her. She was so close she could smell her intoxicating perfume in the air. The slight aroma of wine and cigarettes filled her senses as Georgina pressed her body against her back. Georgina's hand snaked down and caressed Andrea's rear through her trousers. The rough material made a loud hissing sound as it rubbed against Georgina's palms.

"That's better, petite. I like to be obeyed and have you follow my orders quickly. If not, I'll have to punish you. Now turn around so I can see you. "Andrea did as she was told and slowly turned back to face Georgina, her heels scraping against the floor tiles. They were so close Andrea felt uncomfortable sensing Georgina invading her personal space.

"I've decided I need to teach you a lesson. You must always obey your Mistress." Georgina stepped forward, closing the gap between them and pushing Andrea back against the cold wall, making her inhale quickly.

"Quiet putain, I didn't say you could make any noise." Georgina wrapped her arms around her, locking them together. "You will be punished, but first, I want to enjoy the pleasure you offer." Georgina pressed her lips to Andrea's ear and whispered, "Do you consent to being pleasured?"

Andrea could feel the warm breath on her neck as her desire swallowed her answer. "Yes, Mistress." she breathed.

"Then we begin," said Georgina and then she kissed her neck. Her lips parted and softly peppered Andrea's flesh with kisses, starting at her neck and slowly moving towards her ear. Her tongue traced the contour of Andrea's earlobe, and she let out a quiet sigh. Georgina's lips parted, and she softly kissed her cheek. The kiss was so tender and soft, like a lover's lips. It felt so much better than her husband's usual, frantic and hurried.

Georgina's lips lingered and finally came to rest on hers. She pulled her in closer, and the kiss intensified. Georgina's hands began to roam around her body, up her back, cupping her arse and running up her sides, teasing her as they passed by her breasts.

With one swift movement, Georgina broke away, slipped Andrea's skirt off her body, and cast it aside. "No underwear. I am astonished, Mon petite," Georgina remarked.

Georgina was a very attractive woman, but Andrea had never considered that she might be unable to see her completely nude. After all, this was her fantasy; she had asked to be treated like this. She had never imagined Georgina would not disrobe. A sadness fell over her as she looked at Georgian's slim, curvy body. Her full breasts and hips hidden under the leather dress, stockings and blouse. The black nylons clung to her legs, and the leather skirt did not quite reach her upper thigh, revealing a small amount of skin.

"Take off the rest of your clothes Whore," Georgina ordered as she took another step away from Andrea.

As Andrea removed her blouse, Georgina sat back in the chair. Her legs crossed, and the heel of her foot bounced her shoe in time with the music in the lounge.

"Quicker," she ordered. As Andrea dropped her clothes onto a heaped pile on the floor, Georgina stood and went to her open suitcase and produced a riding crop. "Let's inspect you shall we," she said as she stood and walked over to her.

She started at Andrea's head, placing the crop at her ear and slowly trailing it down her neck, watching her body shake under her touch. She continued down her shoulders and back, stopping just before her breasts. Georgina brought the crop to Andrea's face and caressed it across her cheek.

"Turn around."

She did as she was told and turned her body. Her hands pressed against the wall, and her feet symmetrically placed beside each other.

"Spread your legs, Mon petit,"

Andrea did as she was ordered, placing her feet shoulder-width apart. She winced as she suddenly felt the sting of a firm smack on her bum. "Mistress?"

"Mon petit, I am not happy with how you have spread your legs," she said. "Do I have to punish you again?"

"No Mistress."

"Then spread your legs wider!"

"How much more, Mistress," Andrea said nervously. Her body arched to the left as the whoosh of the crop moved through the air before the inevitable smack struck her on her right side just below the ribs.

"You will know when you get there." She said with a hint of pleasure in her voice.

Andrea adjusted her gait. Her legs spread almost 3 feet now before the snap of the whip, this time across her inner thigh. Andrea winced, the smacks getting progressively harder with every mistake.

"Let me give you a clue Pute. I want to get your entire pussy in the palm of my hand. Do you understand?"

"Yes, mistress."

"Last time I am asking, spread your legs!" Georgina said, demanding.

Andrea took a moment to think and simultaneously opened her gait and bent her knees a little, opening the gap between her thighs.

Andrea felt the palm of her Mistresses' hand slide between her legs and cup her pussy. Her hand was firm and strong as she patted her vagina condescendingly. "Better, my pet." "I have a plan for you, My pet. I want you to understand how insignificant and unimportant you are." Andrea could hear the passion and desire in her voice as Georgina began to speak. "You are mine now; you belong to me, do you understand?"

"Yes, Mistress."

"That's better, petite. See now. I own you, your body, your mind and your spirit. I want you to experience true humiliation." Her hand slipped out from between her legs. She walked back to the suitcase and rummaged around. "I'm going to make you beg me to let you cum. Then you will tell me what a whore you are." "You will be begging to release you into a glorious orgasm." Georgina smiled at this and returned, holding a black leather corset with a red ribbon closure down the front. "I think it's time we got you dressed."

Georgina unzipped her skirt, pulled it over her hips, and let it fall to the floor, revealing a black lace G-string and matching suspenders. Her fingers then made light work of the buttons of her blouse, which she discarded on top of her dress. Her breasts were perfectly cocooned under a lace black bra which lifted her boobs a little making them more pronounced.

"I think you will look fantastic wearing this corset, and I should be able to do whatever I want with you wearing it." "Put this on, pet," she commanded, passing Andrea the open corset.

As Andrea slid it around her torso, she fitted it into place, noticing that the bust cups were missing leaving her boobs both raised and exposed over the fabric of the corset. Georgina began lacing up the open bust making it tighter and tighter with every pair of holes. By the time she had completed tying up the corset, Andrea could feel the two steal bones tight within the frame of the fabric. It felt uncomfortable and hard against her skin, a little tight in places.

"My pet needs to be properly restrained," Georgina said. "Your legs are going to be secured with some bondage tape." Georgina then took the ends of a roll of black bondage tape and approached Andrea.

"First, however, hold your arms out, please," Georgina instructed, taking a firm grip on one of her arms and placing it high above Andrea's head.

Andrea winced a little as the bondage tape was applied to her wrist and then secured to one of the ornate hooks Hervé had been instructed to fix securely to the walls just under each light fitting. "I want you to remain like that for a little while, mon petit," Georgina said as she stepped back from Andrea and walked towards the suitcase again.

Andrea felt the bondage tape tighten around her wrist and hand as the hook dug into her flesh. She felt a little uncomfortable at being bound to a wall.

"Are you ok, petite?" asked Georgina as she returned to Andrea.

"Yes, mistress, but I'm not very comfortable,"

"I can tell," said Georgina. She placed a hand on Andrea's hip and ran her palm along the front of the corset. "I think it's time I introduced you properly to my riding crop."