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He is aware of my aprehension about performing in public. The punishment my Master gives me revolves around this. He comes home from work and I am awaiting him, nude, on my knees head bowed. He takes me by the hair and leads me to the shower where he washes me. Not a word has been spoken. he dries me roughly and has me stand in the center of the room, hands behind my head while he choses my clothing. He brings out a strapless leather dress that I had never seen before. It is black, and looks much too small for me. He tosses it at me and orders that I put it on. I know better than to ask for any under garments, so I quickly obey. I once again assume the pose, my hands behind my head, breasts nearly popping out of the top of the dress, my nipples hard, pressing against the seam of the leather. He then drops a pair of shackles at my feet and glares at me ... ordering me to place them on. I am speechless, never being treated this way, never having to wear shackles before. He sits me on the bed where he does my makeup and hair, it seems to take forever. Once done, he hands me a mirror. I look like a whore! The make up is so much darker than what I would normally wear. I feel tears well up in my eyes, but refuse to let them fall. Lastly, he places my collar around my neck. I used to wear it with pride, but tonite, it seems to fill me with dread. It seems so much more tighter tonite, having new meaning. After attaching the leash, he leads me to the door. I soon realize that he never gave me shoes to put on. I open my mouth and begin to ask him about it ... he jerks my collar, forcing me to my knees. I feel cool air rush over my bottom as he slides the leather skirt over my hips. Whack!! I feel the sting of his whip, ...

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