Slave, April 16, 14:00, Brither-str. 14-III. Come alone and bring this book. Mistress A.
I knew, of course, that the message was meant for some else. I didn’t know any Mistress A. Also, the message could be years old for all I knew. Still, I was intrigued. So I visited Brither Street a couple of times and saw the house from the outside. I became a bit obsessed and I decided I wouldn’t be stopped by the mere technicality that I hadn’t met this Mistress before. Act innocent, I said to myself, and pretend to be a complete and utter moron. Which was, as you can imagine, easy enough.
April 16th came with stomach pains and I rang the doorbell precisely at two. There was a buzzing sound and the door opened. I was stunned, because I didn’t believe that would actually happen. I went up the stairs and noticed that one of the doors was open. I hesitantly stepped inside.
I felt a sharp pain in my neck and turned around quickly. There was a nurse standing behind me, dressed in a short, latex uniform. She was holding a syringe in Her gloved hand.
Jesus, I screamed. You scared the shit out of me. What did you d-
I injected you with a strong sedative, She said. You better sit down.
My legs gave way and I slumped into a chair. The room was spinning round and round.
Was it the word “slave” that made your dick tick like a gigantic sperm bomb, She giggled, or was it the word “Mistress?” Both perhaps. Anyway, you will be taken to the City of Femme, where you’ll spend the rest of your life in slavery.
Don’t be absurd!! I laughed hysterically. Read my lips: I’m not, repeat NOT, going.