She finished her mini-toilet, patted herself dry, and inspected. She didn’t like the older plain cotton panties but that was what was asked of her. She had showered the night before and had worn them all night also as asked. Plain perhaps, but they could be useful.

A simple hair style would do. Perhaps something swept back and a bit off to one side. As the brush massaged her scalp, she planned. He was middle aged or a bit more, well mannered and easy to please. Perhaps a simple bun until she got there. Then she could let it down. No hygiene spray. No deodorant. A blush of Lilly of the Valley on her shoulders, thighs and buttocks. He would like that. Perhaps a bit about her naval. Not too much. Just right.

In the bedroom everything was laid out. A simple full skirt that was easy to move in and a light blouse. A colorful bra and stockings for contrast with the flesh, and a matching garter belt. A lacy garter to contrast against her plain white cotton briefs. Why DO these men hate pantyhose??? Light make-up with a hint of blush. Low comfortable pups and a sweater completed the outfit. Oh, Yes. A drop of perfume at the breast and neck.

Her checklist in hand she ticked off her tools: Her favorite personal vibrator at the ready and an alternate if needed; A small vibrating anal probe for prostate work; Ben Wa balls; Anal beads; A Collar and short leash; Extra towels, Lubricant; Rolled condoms; A comfortable swim suit, Spare skirt and blouse (just in case).

Inspection again. Yes, Keys and purse. A careful stride. Poise and personality were crucial. A lady, yes. But more; A woman.

To the car.

As she drove she ran variation of scenes through her mind. This one wanted her to be in charge most of the time. She knew he would want to wash first and in that way she could rid him of everything he wore except the slacks.

In fact, she would blindfold him as soon as the door was secured. Then she could lead him into the bathroom for branding. She would have him kneel next to the commode. At her command he would lower her briefs and she would be seated. “Give me your hand darling.” She smiled at the thought of her fluid running over his hand. “You belong to me now, don’t you.”

“The puddle in your palm is my brand on you. Smell it.” A long pause. “Taste it now.” “Remember it always.”

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