Meeting Miss MillieAfter weeks of strict feminine supervision and constant bondage, it feels decadently good to freely walk about. My hands remain secured to the vinyl strip about my waist and of course I am collared... patched, capped and hooked. But I am freely walking, directed to guest cabin 24 where Miss Shelly Duprave has demanded my presence.
‘No talking... unless spoken to... don’t dawdle, the dogs will round you up and herd you back to the dorm if you stray... and remain erect... always be stiff for the women of the island.’
I think about Miss Beth’s parting words, coming as we strolled to the dorm’s exit and she pointed in the direction of the row of cabins. The high neck collar inhibits a direct downward gaze. It is therefore difficult to determine my state of tumescence, but
