The way Jay wailed with ecstatic transport as well as welcome pain made plain that the added exhibitionist shame only intensified the fabulously extreme degradation epitomizing the ordeal for him. Admitting in whimpering aftermath that he somehow suddenly couldn’t get it enough (and that it couldn’t ever get too rough), Jay acceded eagerly when Super-b***h ordered him into her ‘torture wardrobe’ for the remainder of the day. They still had most of the afternoon and evening left to challenge his masochistic capacities…
In the weeks since they’d moved in, the resident dominatrix had made respectable progress in stocking her new fetish closet. The bra, girdle, garters and stockings decorating Jay were taken from a huge new trove of particularly ‘girly’ lingerie. In contrast her own cup-less
