This is a continuation of the story of my lengthy exploit with one of my slaves. We had a long first session which ended with concealing his perversion before we went to dinner. He wore my used thong, pantyhose, and futsal socks. On top of that, I tied him up in a turtle shape. He wore all of this under his normal clothes. At first glance, he looked completely normal, but if you looked at his ankles closely, the pantyhose were slightly visible.
⭐︎Dinner and Session 2⭐︎
Enough about the food. Let’s talk about the situation we were in. There we were sitting in an elegant, high class restaurant with the waiters wearing suits and bow ties. We looked like two people simply enjoying a meal, but my slave was wearing such a naughty ensemble underneath his normal clothing! I wonder if he could handle the situation without getting hard in the restaurant. At the very least, he must have been leaking precum all over my underwear and pantyhose. We usually discuss societal issues or politics over our meals, but I wonder if a pervert can truly focus on serious topics while they can feel the thong between their buttcheeks, the smoothness of the pantyhose on their legs, and the rope constricting their torso.

After dinner, we retired to a hotel room overlooking the city. It was truly beautiful. I think I captured a nice photo that sums up my vision. What do you think?
I had previously felt a bit unwell during dinner, but somehow I was revitalized by the excitement of another session and a chance to wear my new goth girl lingerie.

He loves being tied spread eagle on the bed and teased. I surmise that his delight is two-fold: one part enjoys the inability to move while the other part relishes in the humiliation of his entire body on display. He was extra sensitive in our second session, but I thoroughly enjoyed tickling him and flicking his nipples. He wriggled and struggled, but he could not escape me! My nails have grown longer and they are perfect for pinpointing the weak spots on a masochist’s body. Each light touch made his little prick ooze out his slimy fluid. He begged to be released to cum into a tiny washcloth. As he drew near to the moment I stared into his eyes closely and slowly massaged his ears.
He was probably exhausted after an entire day of divulging in his perverted fantasies. Before we meet again, he is obliged to stretch his hole with increasing sizes of butt plugs so that he can fit the remote control vibrator. Perhaps one day I will parade him around the streets of Kabukicho once he has made significant progress as a slave.
Catherine