I knew very little about Her, so I was quite surprised to learn that She was married and that there was a 24/7 slavegirl living in the house. I was exited about the latter, because She was living my dream and She could teach me the tricks of the trade. I arrived on a Friday afternoon and downstairs, in the dungeon, Mistress was still pummelling Her customers into submission. After the last one crawled away, the slavegirl came upstairs, pointed at me and said: “You there, follow Me.” So I followed Her downstairs to the dungeon. “I want this place spic and span within the hour.” I laughed. Surely we were one big submissive family, right? Wrong! She nearly slapped me unconscious and that shut me up and opened my eyes. Man, She was so impatient, demanding and utterly ruthless. It was a really rough hour, I assure you. The rest of the weekend I sat at Her feet like a little dog. A slave-girl is not one of us, my friend, She’s part of the Female elite. She’s a Woman and therefor superior to men. My ass can vouch for that, because I arrived with a cheeky smile and left with a mighty sore bottom.