Approaching Kitty's always gives a bit of an adrenaline rush. The anticipation of what is to follow, wondering if I'll be seen entering by anyone I know, will they have any idea of what this place is, what excuse can I give?
There seems to be less plant life at the front door, I'm more exposed, I hope the door is answered quickly. I ring the bell and wait. Who will answer? How will they look at me? Will they remember (or recognise) me?
The door opens; it's a new face. I quickly get off the porch, out of street view.
I'm taken to the first waiting room and asked to wait. That's OK; I enjoy looking in the glass cabinets, anticipating what mistress may have in store for me today.
As always, I'm hoping for something unexpected, a new twist but today I've also asked mistress to be particularly cruel. I try to control my erection; I don't want to wear myself out before mistress has her way.
The receptionist returns and after handing over my envelope she informs me that Mistress Pearl is running late but that I'm to follow her and get ready. She asks for my camera. I often have mistress take photos of her handiwork. My mind starts racing with what that could entail.
I follow her up the stairs to the main dungeon. The stairs are steep and I stay just enough steps behind her so that my face is at the level of her arse. I breathe deeply hoping to pick up a scent. If my mistress knew this I'd be punished for sure. Smell taste and sound are just as important as "touch" and sight to this slave.
I'm lead into the now familiar main dungeon and expect this is where I'll await mistress's arrival. Interestingly the room appears partially set up already.
"Mistress wants you to take off your clothes."
I hesitate as she's still in the room.
"Now."
She's staying, obviously.
I start undressing, finding the situation slightly humiliating but also arousing.
The receptionist (I don't know her name) begins to take photos, from all angles, close ups as well as more panoramic views. I pause before removing my underpants.
"Mistress wants to see if you're having any bad thoughts, so take them off slowly while I get the evidence for her."
With a mixture of excitement and embarrassment at exposing myself to this essential stranger I lower my underpants while the flash continues to fire.
The inevitable happens and my erect cock bounces free.
After a couple of shots she looks at me with a reproachful look.
"Mistress may not be pleased."
"Into the shower!" I'm ordered.
I head to the door and move to pick up a dressing gown.
"You won't need that."
I'm surprised. Usually there's so much caution at Salon Kitty's to ensure you are not seen by anyone else. I quickly dash down the hall. As I pass the stairs I hear a voice but don't look back.
"Make sure you're
very
clean slave."
That wasn't mistress's voice!
There are a few chuckles. More than one.
I pull the bathroom door closed behind me but the drag tells me there's someone holding the handle on the other side. It's the receptionist.
"Mistress wants me to make sure you clean yourself thoroughly slave. Every inch!"
I start the shower, waiting for it to warm up. The receptionist is peering at me, observing me as one might watch a caged animal. The room is light, there's no need for a flash, and I'm not sure how many photos she's taking. Being brightly lit I feel much more exposed. I turn my back to wash my genitals.
"No slave."
I turn around.
"Very clean slave." She states in a flat tone.
I'm both humiliated and excited (and it shows) by the exercise. I'm not sure if I feel more so when she's peering at my genitals or exaggerating eye contact while maintaining a stern, flat expression.
I soap my hand and put it behind my back to wash my arse only to be met with, "last chance slave."
I turn and wash my arse to the camera. Perhaps finishing a little quickly I'm ordered to do that last bit again.
Stepping out of the shower I'm told to stand where I am.
"Mistress wants to see that you're clean before she will consider you worthy of her presence."
She takes a few close shots for mistress, getting me to lift my balls for a good view, then instructs me to turn around.
I'd asked for a degree of humiliation. I was getting it and I didn't think it was going to lighten up. It didn't!
"Bend over!"
I bend over and between my legs I can see the receptionist inspecting and photographing my arse from very close range.
"Spread them!"
I comply.
"Ok, you can head back to the dungeon."
The humiliation by the stranger being over I waited for her to leave, as I needed to pee. She wasn't moving.
"I need to pee."
"Sure."
I wait.
She clearly wasn't leaving.
"Mistress would like to see that."
There are few thinks harder than trying to piss with anything more than a slight erection. The more I tried to distract myself the harder it became. Having someone peer at you and take photos from all angles wasn't helping.
Invoking Maggie Thatcher and leaning forward in a very awkward position I was able to get a piddling stream happening, much to the amusement of the ever-present photographer.