fs02: A Domme’s View – Arc 1 – Chapter 7

Chapter 7

I’m not usually a clock watcher but today time just can’t move fast enough. I came in early so that I could leave early. I have my appointment at Cassandra’s shop this afternoon. I almost wish I would get handed some crappy task that would numb my mind for the next few hours. Fridays are always a little bit slow. I promised myself I would be good and not read her blog at work anymore.

I feel giddy. Not in a happy giddy way, more like in an anxious but excited first day of school where I don’t know anyone kind of way. It’s like any minute now something will happen and I’ll bust into a nervous laugh and all the cool kids will know that I’m actually a dork. There is probably a better word than giddy to describe this. Note to self: read more books. High-strung. That’s the word. Well, words. Unless you count a compound word as one word. I’m seriously a dork.

Composure, Wanda. I take a breath. Why does her approval mean so much to me? Does this happen with all girl-crushes? This is so new to me.

At lunch I went back and read David’s messages on yoohoo. His words made a lot more sense to me after I fantasized about it. He makes me feel conflicted. I don’t understand it. The way his words pull at my defenses. It’s like I want someone to do it, but when I’m comfortable for it to happen. When he does it, I feel off-balance. It’s unexpected. It feels threatening. I feel like I could learn a lot from him, but I also want to keep him at arm’s length.

I don’t find him all that attractive as a man. It’s those thoughts and that mindset and those manners. He makes me feel like I’m more important than I think I am. That gives him magnetism. Most importantly, none of it sounds like lies. I believe him when he says things. He passes my tests so easily.

I finish the report I was working on. The alarm on my phone chimes a few times, letting me know it’s time for me to leave. A surge of energy fills my body. This is exciting. I set my phone to provide navigation for the drive. I’m a little nervous. Well, a lot nervous. I’m not sure why, but there’s nothing I would rather do right now.

I drive with the radio off. I’m worried that I will miss a turn if I can’t hear the directions clearly. Cassandra’s shop is actually fairly close to my work. I’m going to be early. I don’t care. Wait, am I going to buy something? I told her I wanted one of those outfits but will I be able to afford it? Most of my furs I inherited from my grandmother or anniversary gifts from my ex-husband. I know that they aren’t cheap. I specifically don’t go shopping for new ones in order to avoid temptation. I pull into a parking spot and check my balances on my phone. I know what I could probably afford. I know what the responsible limit is. It’s not enough. I slump my head on the steering wheel. The heat of the moment shrunk your brain, Wanda.

I enter the store a bit dejected. There’s a reception desk. I peer off to the right and see the showroom and an oddly secluded waiting room. There is a door to the immediate right of the reception desk as well as the left wall. The woman behind the desk notices me and greets me with a smile.

“Can I help you?”
“I have an appointment.”
“Your name?”
“Wanda. Wanda Schneider. I’m um, pretty early.”
“Is this your first time here, Ms. Wanda?”
“Would you like to take a look around? I’m sure if I let Ms. Cassandra know that you are here, she would drop whatever she is doing.”

I pause for a second. This feels oddly uncomfortable. The feeling of being a burden creeps in. Confidence, Wanda. Make a decision.
“I would like to browse the showroom until it’s time, if that’s okay.”
“Would you like one of our personal shopping assistants to accompany you?”

A lump forms in my throat. This is not my scene. I mean, I’m not poor by any means. I was middle class growing up and middle class since shortly after college but I’m not one of those women. I’m not rich. I don’t go to expensive exclusive boutiques… the kinds of places that would have a personal shopping assistant. My cheeks flush a little red as I realize that she is waiting for an answer to a simple question and I’m jousting with myself in my head. I compose myself.

“I’m fine by myself, thank you.”
She smiles at me.
“Enjoy.”

I smile and nod and make my way to the showroom. The collection out on the floor is pretty similar to what I have seen the limited number of times that I have been to a fur salon. I run my fingers over a full length mink. It feels so nice. I flip the tag. $7999.99. I want to throw up. Do you think I could sneak out and run away without anyone noticing?

I slap myself across the face in my mind. What the hell, Wanda? Grow a pair. You’re just you. Enjoy yourself. There is no pressure. I take a deep breath and silently thank my inner self for kicking my own ass. I won’t look at prices. Just enjoy this.

I browse the coats both leather and fur but in the back of my mind I’m hunting for the outfit that Domnique was wearing. I do two laps but to no avail. Of course they wouldn’t be out on a general showroom. I think. Probably.

The woman’s voice startles me.
“It’s time, Ms. Wanda. May I escort you to the VIP room?”
“Yes, please.”

I follow her through the main entry and she holds the door for me on the far end. I enter into a small windowless room with a chair and we pass through another door. The next room is somewhat dark and very tastefully decorated. Cassandra sits in a red robe trimmed with black fur on a high-backed leather chair. A matching chair sits next to her on the other side of a small table.

“Please, let me take your coat.”
“Thank you.”

I start to take my coat off and find her behind me, assisting. I let go and she guides it off of me before neatly hanging it on a hanger in the corner.
“Can I get you a guest robe?”
“Guest robe?”
“It’s just a comfortable little treat we provide for our VIP guests.”

“Please accept one, Wanda.”
The confidence in her voice penetrates me. I simply nod.

The woman returns with a robe in hand and helps me dress into it. I feel a little bit awkward being waited on this way. It’s almost like having a valet. As hands slide down the lengths of the sleeve I feel the silky smooth softness of a fur-lining. My breath shudders a little as the collar caresses my neck. I kind of wish I wasn’t wearing long sleeves… or clothes. I just made myself blush.

“Can I get you anything, Ms. Wanda? Wine? Water? Coffee? Tea?”
“I will have a glass of wine, Diana.”

I sense how formidable Cassandra is. She gave her order to provide me with comfort.
“I would like a glass of wine as well.”

She nods and turns.
“Thank you, Diana.” Cassandra’s voice gives the woman a little skip in her step.
“Thank you, as well,” I spit out my words clumsily and too late.

“Please have a seat, Wanda. It’s okay if you aren’t accustomed to being waited on. It’s a learned habit.”
“What is? Like getting used to it?”
“Entitlement.”
“You mean like, feeling like I deserve special treatment?”

She smiles at me as I sit.
“And why shouldn’t you?”
“Because I’m not really all that special. I’m just me.”

Diana arrives with some glasses of wine on a silver tray. She sets them on the table.
“Will that be all?”
“Thank you, Diana.”
“Thank you very much, Diana.”

I make sure to chime in this time. She bows and her cheeks flush a little as she leaves through the door on the right wall. Cassandra continues.

“You are you and the you that you choose to be is courageous, amazing, and beautiful.”

Her words stir in my heart. I feel the urge to get defensive and tell her that she is wrong. I fight it off while my face heats up. I take a sip of wine. It’s excellent.

“Just now you were going to tell me that you disagreed with what I said, but you composed yourself and resisted the urge.”

I shut my eyes for a second and take a gulp of wine. This woman is a demon. She’s tall, beautiful, confident, and also a mind reader?! No fair.

“I don’t mean to intimidate you, Wanda. I’m simply sharing with you what I see in you.”
Another gulp of wine. May the alcohol gods grant me safe passage to Buzzville before I freak out. Quick, say something that sounds smart while I can still think clearly.

“I wish that I was you,” is all I manage to blurt out.
My head immediately fills with visions of a painful and fiery death that I wish would strike me down before the embarrassment kicks in. Too late. I cringe as my face lights up. Smooth, Wanda. Like a cheese grater.

Cassandra lets out a bellowing laugh from her bosom. I bend forward and cover my face with my hands, peeking cautiously through the spaces between my fingers. She regains her composure faster than I do.

“That’s the greatest compliment that I’ve ever received, Wanda. Thank you.”
She takes a drink of wine, giving me time to… stop feeling like I want to die from embarrassment. I sit back and swallow the last of the wine in my glass.

“What ever would make you feel that way?”
I take a deep breath. Thank you, alcohol gods.
“I found your blog.”

I’m surprised when I see her blush.
“Oh, my. How much of it did you read?”
“A lot. Enough. Almost all of it.”

Cassandra laughs again and takes another sip of wine.
“Well that certainly makes things easier.”
I smile. How quickly she puts me at ease.

“So you’re interested in one of the leather teddy ensembles, Wanda?”
I blush and clench my fists.
“I’ve never wanted something so badly in my entire life.”
“Well, then. We’ll have to make sure that you get one.”

I watch her retrieve a small device from her pocket and she pushes a button. I hear a faint buzz from the other side of the wall. The door at the back opens and a man in black sweat suit wheels in a garment rack. He keeps his eyes on the floor. There’s something odd about his head. Are those equestrian blinders?

He parks the cart at a comfortable distance, bows, and returns through the door, closing it behind him without saying a word. My look of puzzled bewilderment makes me an easy read.

“One of our unpaid interns.”
Oh, of course, silly me. I simply smile and nod.
“We have them both in ready to wear or we could have one custom made for you. I took the liberty of guessing your measurements at the club. Are you about a size 10?”
“10-12. Well, probably 12.”
“Why don’t you try one on and see how it fits? If it isn’t a good fit I will have one made for you.”

My heart begins to race. I want to squeal. I close my eyes again.
“Can I ask how much these cost? I probably can’t afford one. I’m so so so so sorry to waste your time.”
“We can talk about the cost later, Wanda. I believe that you came here with a purpose. You have never wanted something so badly in your life, or something like that?”

Cassandra is almost as good of a motivator as Marcus the bartender. I nod and rise. On the cart hangs the nearly complete outfit that I coveted so badly. So many different colors. So many different colored fur trims.

“We can make them in any color combination.”
I turn my head to her and nod. There it is. The one I want. I tilt the hanger out and twist it so that it rests facing me. Shiny deep red leather trimmed in black fox fur stares back at me. I run my fingers through the fur and trace down the contoured leather. I tingle.

“May I try this one on?”
“Of course, dear. There’s a changing screen in the other corner. You just have to keep your underwear on or I can’t resell it to someone else.”
“Wait, do people… never-mind.”

I take the hanger and carry it behind the screen. There’s a spot on the wall for me to hang it. I remove the robe and hang it over the side of the curtain. I begin tearing at my business suit like it’s on fire. I’m happy I wore a skirt today. I remove the teddy from the hangar and unzip the back. I press it to my nose and inhale. I love the smell of new leather. I slide into it and my skin goes electric.

“What is it lined with?”
“Rex rabbit, but we take custom requests as well.”

I feel it grip my body in an exquisite way. The zipper in the back has an extended pull toggle on it and I am able to zip myself up. I glide my hands over it like a second skin. I look down at my cleavage. The push up design makes my breasts pop. They look huge. I want this so badly. Whatever it takes. On the hangar is the whole outfit. I try it all on. Elbow length finger-less leather gloves. A short, bolero-style leather jacket covers the shoulders. It is fur lined as well and trimmed at the cuffs and collar with black fox fur. I put on the matching fur headband last. I feel like I’m trembling. I can’t tell if it’s the excitement or the booze. I don’t know if I’ve ever felt this sexy.

“There’s a set of mirrors out here, Wanda. I’m sure you’ll want to see how it looks from every angle.”

I choke on my spit and cough a few times. I’m feeling a bit… shy. Be honest with yourself, Wanda, you’re terrified.

“If you’re feeling shy, remember that I wear these out in public.”
My heart calms.
“Yeah, but you’re tall and beautiful.”
“Aren’t you aware that you are beautiful, too?”

I take a breath and step out from behind the curtain. Cassandra stands in the well-lit mirrored area with her hand extended. I put my hand in hers as I approach. I look in the mirror and she peers in over my shoulder. She must be almost as tall as Dominique.

“You look ravishing,” she whispers in my ear.
“I hate my hips.”
“You have wonderful hips.”

I give in. I feel sexy. I look hot. My tits are popping. It feels great on my skin.

“Are you straight, Wanda? Bi? Gay?”
“Straight.”
“Too bad. You look good enough to eat. But I know better than to chase straight women.”

I blush. If I was going to be bi-curious I certainly would want it to be with her. Or Dominique. Or Wonderous Woman. Wait, she was just hitting on me. This now feels a bit awkward, but holy crap it makes me feel awesome. The tension leaves my shoulders.

“Does it bunch or pinch anywhere?”
“It feels like it has a little bit too much room here.”

I run my hands along my sides in a given area. I have a long torso that frequently thwarts my fashion endeavors.

I gasp as I feel her hands on my sides. She squeezes a bit moves and squeezes. I giggle. I hate being ticklish. I hear the sound of snaps. She adjusts some straps on the side that I didn’t even notice and snaps them into place.

“How does it feel now?”

I twist my body. It hugs me perfectly.
“It’s pretty much perfect.”
“Pretty much, or perfect? It can’t be both.”
“It’s perfect.”

“What size shoes do you wear?”
“7.5”

Cassandra buzzes. The door opens.
“7.5 in red.”

The man in black returns carrying a stool and a large shoe box. He sets the stool down near me and extends his hand without looking up.

I take a seat. He opens the box and retrieves a knee-high red leather boot trimmed in black fur at the top. He unzips the side and opens it up. I place my foot in the bottom and stand. He carefully closes the zipper without touching my leg. His fingers moves quickly as he quickly adjusts the laces and ties them at the top. I sit back down and he repeats with the other boot.

He bows from his knees, rises, and exits the room without a word.
“Efficient.”
“That’s #19. The only intern allowed to have contact with the VIPs.”

I look back at Cassandra as she looks at me. I notice her robe swaying at the hips. It makes me smile.

“How do you feel?”

I look at myself in the mirror again. I feel so sexy right now. I can never just enjoy something without reality barging in.
“I don’t think that I could afford this.”
“How do you feel?”
“I can’t…”
“Talk money later. How do you feel? Sexy?”
“God yes.”
“How sexy do you feel?”
“Like I could enslave all of mankind.”
“I don’t think we can put a price tag on that.”

Cassandra laughs.
“What do you do for work, Wanda?”
“I’m an advertising executive at a mid-level firm here in town.”
“Partner?”
“Unfortunately, no. I’m about halfway up the ladder.”
“So in this city, that’s about … compensating for … monthly mortgage, car, utilities, and insurance … How does $300 sound?”
“Wait, what? What math did you just do in your head.”
“I just estimated what you could spend on an item like this without causing yourself any real discomfort or future regret.”
“But shouldn’t this cost like $1200?”
“It’s $1500 on the website, not including the boots.”
“So how?”
“VIP pricing.”
“Won’t you go out of business doing it that way?”
“It helps to have a large staff of unpaid interns.”
“Is that price okay?”
“Oh. Yes. Definitely. I feel a little bit guilty though.”
“Don’t feel guilty. I would have given it to you for free just to get to know you today, but I have a feeling that would have made you feel VERY guilty.”
“Thank you, Cassandra.”

I smile at her. She smiles back. I feel good about my place in the world right now.
“Are you going to wear it home? Or do you wish to change.”
I blush and point at the curtain.
“Do you want #19 to help with the boots?”

I shake my head.

As I change back into my work clothes I hear Cassandra’s voice.
“Diana, could you please bring a garment box and more wine to the VIP room?”

I redress and slide back into the robe. A large box and the shoe box sits on the table near the curtain. I place the outfit into the box and the boots in their box. Cassandra sits in her seat sipping wine. My glass has been refilled. I return to my seat.

“So tell me more about yourself, Wanda.”
“Well. I’m 34. Single. Divorced.”
“Anything else? I think you know a lot about me already.”
“I’m looking for a sub. I’ve been trying to find one for 4 years.”
“How is that search going?”
“Not great.”
“I remember those days. I don’t miss them.”
“Oh, right.”

I remember reading it in one of her blogs posts. At 30 she changed her life and became a dominant.
“Hrm?”
“I remember reading it on your blog.”
“That certainly makes things easier to explain.”
Cassandra laughs. She doesn’t seem to mind that I know quite a bit about her life.

“Does it ever get easier? You know, finding the right one?”
“Yes and no. The more experiences that you have the more you will zero in on what you want. This helps you weed out a lot of men without having to waste any time. At the same time, the talent pool becomes a lot smaller. It’s funny though, a lot of women look for the wrong things and end up wondering why they don’t find a quality sub that is a good fit. When you find what you know is truly important it will be easy to see and you’ll find yourself wondering how so many women passed someone up.”
“Interesting. There is a man that I met at the club the other night. He has me… conflicted, about what I should do.”
“Conflicted how?”

I pause and take a sip of wine.
“He seems different. The way he thinks about submission. What he seeks in a life-partner. It’s like he’s using an entirely different set of rules than the rest of them.”
“Interesting. So you found one of those. Let me guess, he sees his submission as strength and talks a lot about love?”
“How do you know these things?”
“For weeks I sifted through the sea of shit in my inbox. Once you get past the dick pictures, the remainder end up being variations on a theme. They talk about what they like and what they don’t like. What they want and what they don’t want. They talk about what they want you to be like. They sell themselves, talking about their submission as a gift. In the end you end up picking the ones that seem the most interested in service and the least likely to jerk off in your shoes.”
“Yes! What did you do?”
“I took a chance on the one that was not like the others.”
“How did it work out?”
“We got married.”

I take a gulp of wine.
“Did he scare you?”
“Like, did it scare me that he seemed to know exactly the right thing to say and the right thing to do that would make my heart melt? Of course.”
“Do you think you could teach me that mind-reading trick?”

Cassandra laughs.
“I don’t read minds, I simply try to understand people.”
“How did you overcome the fear?”
“Courage. Faith. Trials. You have to believe in that person. I threw test after test at my slave trying to scare him away. Over and over again he exceeded my expectations and passed each test. At some point I realized, he was the one.”
“That sounds a lot like David, so far.”

I watch a wide smile creep across her face. It puzzles me.
“What?”
“He is rather formidable.”

I am starting to believe that Cassandra is secretly a mind-reading demoness.
“How do you know David?”
“I knew his fiance. She was active in the local scene. It was tragic when she passed. David has been following my blog since the first week I started it. I have no idea how he found it. He leaves very thoughtful comments. Did you see the one about you?”
“No. I just read the posts and skipped the comments. How do you know it was about me? I didn’t tell him my name.”
“Pull it up on your phone and take a look.”

Cassandra sips wine while I fiddle with my phone. I have her page bookmarked. The most recent post is still the one about fetish night. I open it and scroll to the bottom.

‘Your group always looks like it has so much fun, Ms. C, and this week was no exception. I couldn’t help but notice that you had a guest this evening. I had the pleasure of socializing with her briefly and I have to say that she is an amazingly beautiful and intelligent women. I do hope that the two of you hit it off. I look forward to seeing you next month.

-David’

I find myself blushing a bit as I read.
“Have you ever spoken to him?”
“In person? No. He feels it would be inappropriate of him to approach us without an invitation and I do not wish to trap him while pining for one of us that he will never be with, so I have not offered him one. I have only corresponded with him here. If you wish to know what his mind is like, you might want to read his comments on some of my older posts.”
“He’s very polite.”
“That he is.”
“Do you think I should give him a chance?”
“I can’t answer that for you. All I can tell you is to follow your heart.”

Thoughts of David now occupy every square inch of real estate in my mind. I share my concerns with her.

“Can I ask you a question?”
“Certainly.”
“What is it about humiliation and forced feminization that appeals to you?”
“Why do you ask?”
“Those were on David’s interests on his kinklife profile and I had written him off because of them. They don’t appeal to me very much. I know that you keep your husband feminized and humiliated. I wanted to know why?”

Cassandra peeks at her watch.
“Do you have dinner plans?”
“I don’t. Why do you ask?”
“I would like you to come over and have dinner with me. It will be easier to explain it with a context. That, and I would enjoy your company.”
“You would trust having a stranger over for dinner?”
“You forget that I saw the real you the other night. Besides, it’s my risk, right?”
“I really want to.”
“So say, yes. Stop doubting your desires.”

I nod. She smiles. I give her my number. She texts me her address. Everything feels like a surreal blur. I pay for my outfit. #19 carries the boxes to my car. My thoughts swirl around David as I drive. It surprises me that she knew him. I’m even more surprised that she seems to respect him. A few minutes later I find myself pulling into Cassandra’s driveway behind her.

She has a large home. It’s not massive, but her business obviously does fairly well if this is where she lives. We meet at the door and she leads the way. Within seconds a maid approaches in a pink uniform. Cassandra hits the light switch. I stifle a laugh. It’s her husband. He looks… terrible. A woman as beautiful as she is I had expected him to be some handsome, chiseled, Adonis of a man. Instead I see a pale, short, and pathetic sissy slave standing before me.

“pet, this is my new friend Wanda. Please show her the proper respect as you would any of my friends.”
“Yes, Mistress.”

He greets me with a bowed head.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Wanda. Please let me take your coat.”

I nod. He expertly guides my coat off of me and scurries to the walk-in closet. He returns in a moment with a robe. It’s identical to the one that I wore at Cassandra’s shop. He guides it onto my body and wraps it neatly. I’m surprised when he drops to his knees and cinches the belt around my waist. I feel a small tingle.
“Would Miss Wanda be interested in some slippers?”
“Yes, please.”
He places one at my feet and helps me out of my shoe. He slides the slipper into place and repeats the process with the other foot. The slippers are very comfortable.
“Thank you.”

He nods from his knees before attending to Cassandra. I could get used to this. Cassandra’s words throw me off.
“Wanda, it’s unnecessary to use please and thank you with my slave. This is part of his duty. I would prefer it if he is not treated like a real person and especially not an equal. It confuses him.”

I start to ask a question but I am mesmerized by the ritual unfolding before me. The care and attentiveness her slave displays while serving her is amazing. Every detail is well-rehearsed and perfected. The way that he straightens the robe’s collar. The way that he lifts her hair so it can drape freely down the back. The tightness of the belt. That’s so hot. I tingle.

I watch him place the slippers on her feet. He lowers his head and kisses the top of each foot.
“pet, you may embrace me.”

He wraps his arms around her in a display of affection and presses his head against her body. She pets his head. The tingle becomes a full on twitch. I want that. I want that kind of love and devotion.
“Does he greet you like this every day?”
“Every day.”

I swallow and try to regain my composure. You know how they say that a man’s arousal is like a light switch and a woman’s arousal is like boiling a pot of water? That logic just went out the window.

“Are you surprised? Our greeting ritual can affect people rather strongly the first time someone witnesses it.”
It’s better to be honest.
“I’m so turned on right now.”
“He did the same for you.”
“The actions maybe, but not the intent. I could see his love oozing out of his every move when it came to you.”
“Thank you for informing me.”

“pet, go apologize to my friend for your lack of courtesy and respect. I’ll punish you later for that and for embarrassing me in front of my friend.”

The expression on his face sinks. He walks to me on his knees and prostrates himself.
“I am so very sorry, Miss Wanda. Thank you for pointing out the slave’s lack of proper attention in attending to you. Such carelessness will not happen again and the slave will be reprimanded severely to ensure that the lesson is learned.”
“I forgive you. Cassandra, what do I call him?”
“You can call him anything you would like. His slave name is fs01. Most of my friends call him fs or fur sissy.”
“I forgive you, fs.”

I just notice that he has kept his head bowed until now. He bows again and returns to Cassandra’s side without looking up.
“Did I just get him in trouble?”
“He got himself in trouble. He knows better.”

His body language has changed so much. It’s almost like he shrunk. I feel my chest flutter. That is the kind of obedience, devotion, and accountability that I want.
“pet, I assume you got my message on your pager and prepared dinner for two?”
“Yes, Mistress.”
I chuckle a little.
“A pager?”
“I use it to communicate my commands to him when I’m not at home.”
“Why not a cell phone?”

Cassandra laughs and shakes her head.
“A slave with a phone.”

It takes me a minute to process how preposterous my question must have sounded. All I can say is, wow. Hardcore. I follow them into the dining room. fs helps me into my chair before attending to Cassandra at the head of the table. He scurries out of the room and returns carrying a large silver tray. I sit tight as he places the dishes out on the table in front of us. He then places the napkin upon each of our laps before pouring the wine. This is the life I want.

“Does this look to be of your liking? If not, I can have him make something else.”

I look down upon the spread before me. It looks like a lemon pepper encrusted chicken breast, au gratin potatoes, steamed asparagus with butter, a small side salad, and some fresh bread.
“Umm, it looks delicious.”

We begin eating. fs stands in the corner facing the wall. The first bite is marvelous. Everything was obviously made fresh and from scratch.
“Do you not eat with him?”
“I occasionally permit him to eat while I am eating, but he just cooks the food, he doesn’t get to enjoy it.”
“I feel kind of bad eating when he might be hungry.”
“Would it make you feel better if I let him eat now instead of after we are finished?”
“pet, our guest is kind enough to think of your needs even after you disrespected her so badly. Go prepare yourself a slice of dry toast, a hard-boiled egg, and 4 carrot sticks. I expect you to be finished eating by the time we are ready for desert.”

He bows his head and speaks.
“Thank you, Mistress. Thank you, Miss Wanda for your kind considerations.”

What kind of training regimen is she using to create this level of obedience?
“Dry toast?”
“I normally allow him butter, but you can’t reward poor behavior. I usually let him have a dab of dressing for his carrots, too. Before we left the shop you had some questions.”
“Yes. I was curious about humiliation and feminization.”
“How familiar are you with spaces?”
“Spaces?”
“Mental spaces.”
“Umm. I think I once heard the term littlespace. Or wait, like that subspace thing that masochists get after a spanking?”
“Hmm. What resources are you using for your information?”
“Mostly just what I see on kinklife.”
“The dungeon door?”
“Is that a website?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“T-P-E.org?”
“No. Do those sites still exist? I never found any of them on any search engines, and I did a LOT of searching.”
“That’s a shame. They are probably gone now. Ever since the 101 Shades of Beige series went mainstream and got those movie adaptations there’s been a flood of new people into the scene. If there aren’t a lot of resources left I can see why people seem so loose and free-flowing in their terminology nowadays.”

I take a sip of wine. I’m trying my best not to feel like a disappointing newbie, but I can’t help feeling like I just fell off the turnip truck.

“Mental spaces are kind of a compartmentalization of a persona. Each of us are made up of several personas. A persona is the embodiment of that part of our self. It has thought patterns, behavioral patterns, feelings, and the like that are necessary for the role they provide.”
“I think I’m following you…”

Wow, way to sound confident, Wanda.

“Here is an example. When you are at work, you have a certain way that you behave. The priorities of your thoughts act in a certain manner. The way that you treat people, how you interact with them, and even your speech patterns are crafted for that environment. You treat a client different than your boss. You treat your boss different than an average co-worker and the kid from the mail room. To make it easier to understand, I will call that persona ‘work Wanda.’”

This makes a lot more sense to me.

“When you are with casual friends, you have a certain side of you that they are used to seeing. You lose the formality and talk openly about a number of things. You treat each other as equals. Your thoughts occur more freely. It’s very different from ‘work Wanda.’ I will call it ‘social Wanda.’ Now when you are home by yourself or talking with a very close friend that knows you intimately, you are able to let even more of your guard down. The things that you say and feel might be completely different from ‘work Wanda’ and ‘social Wanda.’ This is ‘private Wanda.’”

I’m starting to see where she is going with this. I think.

“Think about ‘dominant Wanda.’ What she wants. What she feels. The way she feels about others. The way she feels about herself. Those behavioral patterns are completely different from work, social, and private Wanda, aren’t they?”
“Definitely.”
“I’m guessing that when you feel dominant, your senses come alive. Your mind becomes sharp. Your skin feels electric. You have a hunger inside you that you want to feed. You feel confident. The submissive men that you encounter become boys. You have power and control. You know exactly what you want. Lots of things turn you on, am I right?”
“That is exactly how I feel. It sort of freaks me out that you know that.”
“The feelings we get as Dommes aren’t all that unique. What differs from person to person is what triggers those feelings. When you get aroused and embrace those feelings of dominance, you enter your dominant mental space, or Domspace.”

“I get it now. And it differs from my other personas.”
“Exactly. Subs have the same sort of thing. Submissive mental space. I like to call it subspace but now everyone assumes the term is about a high from brain chemicals. When subs enter their submissive mental space, their thought patterns change and they become aroused and obedient. Their submissive persona is often very different from their other personas, just as your dominant persona differs from your other personas.”
“Like a CEO that submits in order to unwind?”
“Yes. If a sub falls out of their submissive mental space, they lose the desire to submit and return to their ‘normal’ self.”
“Falls out?”
“It can happen for a number of reasons, often when the stimulus that triggers them into space goes away. An orgasm will do it, too. Sometimes they can’t go back to submissive mental space for several days after an orgasm.”
“So that’s what does it!”

Cassandra laughs.
“I take it you have experience with that.”
“Too much experience.”

Cassandra laughs again as she takes a drink of wine. I feel incredibly lucky to have met her. This talk alone is explaining so much that wasn’t clear to me before.

“Now, getting back to humiliation and feminization. I had to explain all of this first to have it make sense. Humiliation is what triggers my slave into his submissive mental space. He finds feminization to be extremely humiliating.”
“So by keeping him dressed like that, you keep him in his submissive mental space?”
“Smart girl. That, among other things.”
“What kind of other things?”
“Think about how he felt today being exposed to a total stranger as a sissy maid.”
“Oh. Wow.”
“Sometimes I will take him out in public dressed like that. Other times I will peg him.”
“With a strap-on?”
“Yes. Well, a double-ended dildo called a Reverb. Those are designed to hit your G-spot when you fuck someone with one.”

I blush… hard. Cassandra smiles. I have joked about this sort of thing a lot, but this is my first experience meeting someone that does it. I thought it was just subs that liked being pegged. I never realized there were Dommes that liked doing it.

“To be fair, keeping my slave in his submissive mental space isn’t the only reason that I humiliate him.”
“Like what?”

A sly grin forms upon her face.
“You’ve read my blog. I’m sure by now you know that I’m a sadist. pet, come in here!”

I hear a carrot clatter on a plate and fs appears in less than three seconds.
“Stand here so we might inspect you.”
“Yes, Mistress.”
“Lift your dress.”

I watch as fs lifts his dress front. He cringes and his face turns a bright shade of red.
“Tell Wanda why I keep your clitty locked up.”

He winces in agony.
“Miss Wanda, Mistress keeps me locked up because I’m a naughty boy and that pathetic lump of flesh doesn’t deserve any attention whatsoever.”

I crack a huge smile before erupting into laughter. I can’t believe he just said those words.

“pet, tell Wanda why I keep you dressed like that.”
He looks like he’s going to cry.
“Miss Wanda, Mistress dresses me this way because it amuses her to have me look so awful and pathetic and to remind me that I don’t deserve respect or dignity.”

I can’t stop laughing. His voice sounds so tiny and pained, it’s almost like he’s being stabbed and someone is twisting the knife.

“Now think of this, Wanda. I own this pathetic boy and I can make him suffer in every delicious way imaginable. The control is… exhilarating.”

Cassandra leans her head back and she cups her breasts through her robe. I bite my lip as I tingle.

“Now tell me, if you had a boy that would suffer for you, wouldn’t you just love to make him suffer? I dress him like this because I can. I humiliate him because I can and I love it. I tear him to shreds purely for my amusement. Fuck. The power is intoxicating. I use his mouth and his hole whenever I want to and he NEVER gets to cum.”

I’m kind of scared that she’s going to explode into an orgasm right here and right now. Instead she opens her eyes and looks at me. She touches her finger to his chin.
“pet, tell Wanda how much you love me.”
“Miss Wanda, I love Mistress more than anything else in the world. I love her with every fiber of my being.”

I’m tingling again.
“How do you feel when you serve as my source of amusement?”
“Mistress, your slave is happy that he can be of service in a way that enhances your life.”

Damn that’s hot. I want a sub that will say those words to me and mean them.
“Do humiliation and feminization make more sense to you now?”

I can only nod. My mind spins all over the place. Sensory overload. What the hell did I see today and how is it changing me?

“Wanda, I have an extra Reverb if would be interested in tag-teaming my slave after we finish desert. It’s been a while since he had a good spit-roasting.”

I have no idea how to react. I feel so out of control. What did she just ask me? Cassandra smiles and lets out a giggle. I can’t tell if she’s serious or not. I try to hide my discomfort.

“Umm, I would love to but there are some things I have to take care of at home tonight.”
“I’ll bet you are wondering if I was being serious.”

Mind-reading demoness.
“Cassandra, you are the most amazing woman.”
She smiles.

We small-talk through the rest of dinner and desert. She escorts me to the door where fs performs the reverse of the robing ritual. This time he shows a lot more care than before. His obedience astounds me. I find myself regretting that I chose to leave. I am so thankful for all that she has done for me today.

“Thank you, Cassandra. I can’t even put it into words how much this means to me.”
“I had a lovely time, Wanda. Promise me that you won’t be a stranger.”

I smile at her.
“Before you leave, do you mind telling my slave what you think of him? I like to make sure that he knows how others see him.”

I turn to fs and smirk. I feel my Domspace kick in. I feel confident that I can say anything I want without feeling guilty for it.
“I think he is a sad and pathetic broken little man that dresses in such an embarrassing way that the thought of being seen with him in public disgusts and sickens me.”

I watch his face quiver a bit but he doesn’t react. I have to assume he’s used to this.
“Would you ever have sex with him?”
“God, no. He’d be lucky if I was willing to even sit on his face.”

He lowers his head.
“Thank you, Miss Wanda for your insight and assistance in reminding me of my place.”

I silently mouth some words to Cassandra without speaking. ‘Was that okay?’ She smiles and nods.

On the drive home my mind races a million miles per hour. Domspace. Subspace. David. Humiliation. I’m so overwhelmed. I feel like I just spent a day on a different planet. As I mull through things my thoughts start to sort themselves out. I can’t say that I fully understand the appeal of humiliation. I don’t see it as a glaring red flag like I once did. I start connecting the dots. While I might not want to humiliate a sub but I adore the idea of a sub that would be willing to be humiliated by me if I wanted to do it. If it keeps him in his submissive mental space, I can definitely see how it would be useful. David is starting to feel a lot less flawed.

I’m starting to feel like today was a series of ‘a-ha’ moments… the kind that shape how you view the world. I got to see how I want to be treated. I got to see how I want to be loved. I think I get it a little more on what’s going on in my head… and in the sub’s. I’m sure these thoughts will linger in me for days to come.

At home I sprint upstairs with such a fury that I freak out Leo. I undress and fling my clothes across the room. I open the box with a big grin and get dressed. I skip the boots and the jacket. It feels heavenly on my naked skin. I feel sexy. The night is young.

I sprawl out on the bed and open my laptop. I pull up Cassandra’s blog and begin going through the posts one by one, seeking out David’s comments. As I go I start seeing more of his personality begin to take shape. He’s always so formal with me, it’s nice to see him with some witty banter. He’s very funny. He’s also sweet… and protective. He’s always so polite and respectful. He has tremendous insight. His comments are thoughtful. I see his patience as he takes the time to reply to the other comments, explaining things where other people fail to see the whole picture. I can’t get him out of my head. I think back on an earlier conversation with Cassandra. I can keep testing him until I believe in him. Ugh, it sounds like some sick and twisted mind-game that college girls do. But if he’s the one, he’ll come through and pass them all, right?

I close the computer. It’s time for some me time. I slide my hands down my body. I don’t want to take it off. Snaps. Why are there snaps here? I lift a small strap and the area over the crotch lifts up. Another snap and it detaches. Someone was thinking ahead when they designed this. I lean over and grab my toy from the drawer. Where to now? I turn on the toy and it begins to buzz. A naked boy appears with his hands bound behind his back. I give a tug on his leash and pull his face in. I guide his face into the sweet spot. The boy has David’s face. Just go with it, Wanda. I grab a handful of his hair and let my mind go as I writhe and moan into the night.

Return to Table the of Contents

• Erotica
• Femdom
• Forced Feminization
• Fur Fetish