--- I was sitting on the floor stuffing my face with chips. I was snuggled in a blanket and wearing trackies. The very picture of glamour. Angus walk...d in and shook his coat on. "Wet out," he said. "Duh," I muttered. He walked over to my nest of wrappers, empty drink cans and plates. "What happened here?" he asked. I ignored him. I was normally scrambling for his attention. He was usually aloof. Today I didn't feel like it. In fact I resented him for it. I'd had a shit day with about fifty. We are always encased in some sort of personal prison, a locked chastity device of one type or other encloses our genitals at all times. Except when we am entombed in our Iron Lungs or bathing we always am encased in some combination of tight corsets and braces or other ingenious device our Mistresses have designed and had constructed to assure we am totally under their control. I should also mention that we are always dressed as women and I have what I feel are the most beautiful pair of 42DD. More

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