I mumble a shamefaced acknowledgement and proceed to retrace the route I took two nights ago, though it truly seems an eternity since then. And, in a way, it is – I was an entirely different person then. Finally I make it to the front door where I peer cautiously out at the brilliantly sunny early afternoon.
Good, the coast is clear. I open the door and squat down when I pick up the paper, and not just because of a deliberately ladylike unwillingness to let my bare ass be revealed by my miniskirt riding up. Frankly, I’m still so unsure of myself in those terribly uncomfortable shoes that I fear I’ll fall flat on my face if I bend over.
Paper in hand, I follow Mistress’ directions through her staggeringly opulent mansion to the kitchen. There I’m greeted by a huge, airy space with a cent
