I was at a friend’s house when Miss Lois messaged me. We were just chilling and sort of doing our own things, so it wasn’t too difficult to reply to Miss Lois. She was suddenly very interested in my type (which my friend also always are but I don’t really think I have a type?) (Apart from my type being women, lmao.) (And dominant, haha.)
I then eventually left, which didn’t quite work out timing-wise, as once I’d left, Miss Lois told me she’d loved it if I had taken off my underwear for the trip home. It was evening, so by this time the public toilets were closed. So instead she told me to check how wet I was before I got on my bike. I was allowed to find a dark place to do it.
I showed her a picture of the street where I’d checked, which was a dark alley with no street lights. She asked me how long it’d take me to get home, which was 7 minutes (very precise indeed!)
Once I got home, she told me to get naked, put on the stilettos, insert the butt plug, put my knickers (instead of a thong as I was on my period) in my mouth and fix it in with a ball gag. I had to take a picture and to then sit down at my desk and start typing in our conversation for 10 minutes straight. I wasn’t allowed to stop typing no matter what and I could write whatever I liked but I had to try and stay on the topic, which was torture and how it affected my life, thoughts and wellbeing.
She added a second on-going task for me: From that day onwards, I had to wear my normal heels at least once a week for an hour when out with my friends. Then, if anyone commented on my heels whether a friend or a stranger, I had to say: “I love wearing them, I am trying to get better at it.”
Then I tried to take a picture, which was too blurry… I took another, less blurry one but my phone was in the way of my face…
She told me to focus on the task and doing it in the best way I could, not on getting it over with as quickly as possible (guilty as charged…)
When the picture was finally right, I thought I had to get to my desk to start typing but Miss Lois had new ideas about more pictures. She told me to turn around and take a picture of the plug inside of me, as well as a close up of my pussy to see how wet I was.
It was then time for the actual task… secretly I liked taking these pictures much more, hehe. I asked if I was allowed to have a blanket while typing. She initially said yes but then quickly changed her mind because she wanted me to be aware of the predicament I was in.
So the 10 minutes started…
My thoughts were all over the place. I was just kind of naming the things she’d told me to write about followed by “eeeh” and “aah” and “I don’t know” and “what kind of torture” and “what is torture.”
After about 20 lines of this, I wrote one line that sort of said something.
“Torture could be being deprived of being allowed to come except that currently doesn’t work on me because I just don’t have that desire anyway so bad example”
I then reverted back to what I’d done earlier and very sporadically said something else that was maybe more useable?
“Maybe torture could change bad habits. Create fear? Obedience? More submission?
Seven minutes after I started I felt like I had nothing more to say, but Miss Lois told me that I was not to give up on finding content in my mind.
Reading back what I wrote then… it looks like poorly written poetry lmao, but she encouraged me to go on.
Thirteen minutes later I dared to ask her how many minutes in we were, as I was definitely aware that I’d been doing this for more than 10 minutes by now!
She told me to keep going until she said so… (damn Mistresses… :p)
Seven minutes later I ran out of thoughts again and she reminded me to keep on typing even though the 10 minutes had passed. Then finally after another 11 minutes, she said that it was enough for now and that I could get a blanket.
I was really glad it was over. It felt like I’d been running a marathon or something (not physically but) it had been very stressful. She asked me if doing this had brought me to any new insights, but my mind felt too stressed to see anything clearly.
So she herself observed that I didn’t think I was worth to be loved or even to exist in the way that I was. She continued to say that I had internalised and accepted this as a fact and that no one could change my mind. She added that I was willing to do anything for someone I adore, that I wouldn’t expect them to love me for what I was and that I’d be more than happy to make them appreciate me by being useful to them. Being given the opportunity to be useful to someone was a great gift for me.
She was right. She managed to observe and put into words all the things I probably knew deep down inside but couldn’t quite reach.
She continued by saying that I was more than happy to be changed, to become a different person: more myself, more slave as it was another way to prove myself. In the past, someone paid to have a slave, which means that a slave has value and a reason to be by definition. And by this definition, a slave would be worth more than I am, in my opinion.
I agreed, and then fashionably interrupted by asking if she would allow me to go to the toilet at some point.
Miss Lois: “We are having a conversation” (ouch, I know… sorry!!)
She pointed out that I’d have to change my outfit for that, and that therefore I should find a receptacle in my room and pee in that. I wasn’t allowed to take my butt plug out so after 3 minutes I said that I’d just not pee because I can’t with a butt plug in.
She allowed me to take it out and put it back in immediately after, but I couldn’t pee somehow.
Miss Lois: “Get yourself to the edge.”
I got there within 4 minutes and stopped to avoid the risk of orgasming.
She asked if I had ever considered if changing myself completely to be the person she wanted is similar to taking torture, and that many women can’t do, which therefore would give me value.
At the same time, I had to get myself to the edge again.
I replied saying that I had thought about it and sometimes thought that I must be mad, but that most of all, I didn’t want to think about how special the training she was giving me was because I didn’t want to feel the fear of it potentially disappearing one day.
She said all of this was an investment in me in the hope I would not disappoint and that I hadn’t so far.
This then immediately made me afraid of disappointing her… so I asked her a few questions, trying to figure out in what way someone could potentially disappoint her. Finally, she asked me what I thought was the answer…
Me: “If they stop trying?”
Miss Lois: “Exactly. By not giving their best every time. Are you giving your best?”
Me: “Yes Miss.”
I then reached the edge, but our conversation continued. She asked if I enjoyed giving my best and developing and the answer was and still is, absolutely, yes.
She then told me to cum, asked me if I had squirted afterwards (which I had) and allowed me to get out of my heels, take out the gag etc. and to get ready for bed.