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I guess you don’t see many men on leashes being led through malls wearing tight skirts and transparent blouses, staggering along on high heels, clutching a handbag tightly under one arm, waving the other about occasionally in an attempt to maintain his balance while being talked to by a much smaller woman, as if her were her pet dog. This author is actually Bea, writing as Stella Satin, and the story is told as only Bea can relate it.

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    Over the next ten days, I became Miss Candace's creature. I minced and primped in the most becoming and ladylike fashion - corseted and dressed in tight skirts, I did everything she asked. Rene looked on proudly. I think she saw Miss Candace as her own protege. I studied diligently on her transcription method and brought my keyboard speed up to ninety five words a minute. I had plenty of time as, once I'd finished clean up after breakfast, I was pretty clear for the day. Miss Candace was usually at the college until late afternoon, so I had relatively peaceful periods.

    On the other hand, nothing was too shameful to be done to me. One evening I was forced to stand to the side of Miss Candace's chair, my hands crossed over my apron, while she used her hand to lift my petticoats and fondle me, while carrying on a conversation with Rene. I was spanked for "squirming about" then put back into the same mortifying position, constantly brought to the point of ejaculation, but never allowed to ejaculate - on pain of the "worst - the very worst spanking you'll ever get."