To the dungeon, as an enforcer

"You're off to the dungeon."

I blink. "Come again?" I didn't think I was the submissive type to enjoy getting chained up and whipped. God, I hope they didn't screw up my assessment!

Dennis interprets the confusion on my face correctly. "Not as a prisoner," he clarifies. "Please go with Mistress Golgotha here."

A woman opens the door on the wall behind him and waves me over. She's gorgeous! A black thong bikini bottom just about covers her pussy lips, but not so much that I can't tell she's completely shaven. Leather straps wrap around her muscle-defined tummy and breasts, barely concealing her areolae. I don't think it's possible for someone to be less dressed without being considered downright pornographic. Her brown hair is pulled up in a tight, stylish bun. She towers over me, almost one hundred and ninety centimeters thanks to her cone heels.

"Hello, Lilah," she says with a pleasant lilt. "Come along." We walk down a long bare corridor side by side, she a little ahead. She turns her head slightly and smiles when she catches me staring. "What do you think of the outfit?"

"It's breathtaking!" I exclaim.

"I'm glad to hear it. How would you feel about wearing it?"

I consider it. She's striding along with such confidence. I wonder if I could do the same, uncovered like that. Still...it'd be so sexy! "I...think I'd like it a lot."

"That's good, because you'll be spending the next few hours doing what I do."

"And what is that?"

"Teaching men their proper place," she says simply. "And you'll have plenty of tools at your disposal--paddles, straps, even your bare hand if you feel up to it."

"So, like, a dominatrix?"

"Exactly," she laughs. "But first, let's get you fitted. And you'll need to pick your 'mistress' name."

Half an hour later, I'm in the middle of a plain dressing room, my street clothes folded on a bench in the corner. The leather straps dig into my boob flesh, and the thong chafes a bit, but it's not as uncomfortable as I was expecting. I step in place, acclimating myself to my cone heels.

"Spectacular!" says Mistress Golgotha, adjusting a final strap and stepping back to admire my near-naked form. "And what should I call you?"

"How about...Auburn?" I say, unconsciously twiddling with my hair. Take that, stupid limited-choice assessment!

"One final touch, Mistress Auburn." Golgotha produces two carnival masks, one for herself and one for me. It's easy enough to slip on, leaving my lower face uncovered. "Now, before I take you to your client, Mr. Collins, a few instructions. This is the most important one--he has a safe word, 'landlubber'. You hear that, you stop what you're doing immediately and come find me. Understand?"

"Yes. 'Landlubber'. I won't forget."

"Good. You'll have a fair bit of latitude. You can use any of the implements in there. You can stroke him. You can tease him. You can say whatever you want. But no permanent injuries. And once again, respect the safe word. We'll be watching."

"I can do that," I say confidently.

"Alright, let's go." She leads me a short way down the corridor into the dungeon proper.