When Mistress lends or hires me out to one of her friends to provide whatever services they require, she can’t resist bringing more theatricality to the occasion than is strictly necessary.
For example, in the photo above she can be seen moments before handing me over to her friend Priscilla, who needed a slave to assist at what was described as a ‘party’ to be attended by the women in her reading group.
Mistress is chatting happily with Priscilla, offering her advice on how best to keep me motivated and obedient in the servile role I’m there to fulfil.
The photo shows that Mistress has brought me in handcuffs, which I don’t usually have to wear. And I’m naked below the waist, something else that’s unusual - outside our home, anyway. So everyone can see that she’s locked me into a chastity cage, which is embarrassing, to say the least.
To complete the picture, Mistress has made me wear a silly mask and that teeshirt, with its pointless slogan. The slogan’s pretty obvious, really. I mean, of COURSE I love dominant women! Why else would I have surrendered myself so abjectly to her in the first place? It surely doesn’t need printing in large letters across my chest.
It’s hard to avoid the conclusion that Mistress is ‘showing off’ with all these outward signs of her control over me, which she doesn’t need to do.
On top of all that, a few minutes ago, while I was in the kitchen, tethered to a radiator, waiting patiently to be handed over to Priscilla, our hostess decided to get her collection of disciplinary implements out of the cupboard where she keeps them and show them to Mistress.
One of these implements was a particularly whippy looking cane which she bent into an arc, to demonstrate its flexibility, to which Mistress responded by observing “Yes, that’s fine, my dear. It’s the sort of thing I use, myself.” Which, again, is true, but should hardly need saying.
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