So Embarrassing

At the end of our sessions, my dominatrix usually returns my clothes, but last week she kept them locked in a draw and threw a short, strapless dress at me.

“Wear that home!” she said.

She snickered as I put on the dress, which barely covered the top of my thighs. This was too much, I thought. I looked ridiculous. I might see someone who knew me. I felt hot with humiliation, because no doubt everyone was going to laugh– but to my surprise, the people I passed were quite respectful. A guy on the subway stood up to give me his seat. A middle-aged lady held a door open. A group of young people walked before me and spread rose petals at my feet.

The following week, I went back to see my dominatrix.

“Your little game didn’t work,” I told her. “Times have changed. I wasn’t humiliated because everyone treated me like royalty.”

My smug attitude made her mad. She really worked me over good; in fact, it was our best session ever, so for multiple reasons, I send my thanks to the far left.