I chatted freely about the house. I'd been watching women on the television and noting how they spoke. Instead of trying to speak in a high-pitched sq...eak, like Widow Twanky, I'd gone for a deep throaty style that sounded more vampish than mannish. It did the trick.A few miles away, in the nearest market town, there was a beauty salon. As I was now mobile I decided to get my nails done properly and to have my legs and chest waxed. The girls were lovely and I decided to be truthful and tell them. Wearing my muzzle, a tangible symbol of my submission is, like my submission, both terrifying and comforting. I returned to the living room. My Mistress looked at her phone I realized that she had been timing me with a stopwatch function."That took … two minutes," she said in a tone that dripped with disdain. "Is that what you call ‘quick?’" No, Ma’am."She slapped me. ”Next time, when I say quick, I mean quick! Do you understand?” She took me by the collar."Yes Ma’am." More slapping. More

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