Ritual.

My parlour is misty with frankincense, the walls thrumming with brilliance, my black suit jacket waiting on the bed for me to select what else I will include in the evening's headmaster ensemble. A 2008 Duboeuf beaujolais swirls in the glass I hold to my lips. My cats swirl also, although they are around my ankles.

Soon, I would be selecting an arrangement of tools, toys, and other items of titillating torment. I intend to have fun tonight. My choices will go into a charming little backpack, that being so suitable for the evening's theme and my pet's attire.

It's fitting that the wine is young. Soon, my pet would appear likewise after she arrives here, makes herself up, and dons her new schoolgirl uniform for its intended use.

Before she met me, apart from a less-than-ideal experience with another, bdsm play was little more than a fantasy for her.

Kara attends her first playparty tonight.

"Hey love," she emails me earlier today, "I have just finished spending about a half an hour carefully ironing my skirt, shirt and ties for tonight. It felt ritualistic, this preparing for my Man, preparing for an initiation into a new world.

"I am very nervous, very excited, very turned on! I am thinking out the day ahead: I'm treating myself to a spa day, getting my hair cut, shopping for new make-up since it has been forever since I've had a reason to do a "full-face." I will wax my legs ... and groom other more intimate places ... a day of pampering and ritual."

My pet has a lovely tuft of black fur upon her saucy mound. Within it, her beautiful clitoris stands like a proud pillar to Isis when erect, and her cushions swell like wild fruit around her. She's always well groomed, her dark tuft always a perfect triangle under her navel. In a word, Kara's treasures are breathtaking. For me, she has the perfect cunt.

I wonder: will I slither my fingers between her soaking folds between spanks as her bare little ass is spread across a horse tonight? Will I stroke her to cum before a crowd of fellow kinksters, my ribald friends and comrades at arms? Will the scent of her possessed quim add to the enjoyment of my drink as I raise it to my lips as easily as I raise this wine I enjoy whilst I enter this post to you?

We shall see.

Maybe tonight will be too much for her.

We shall see.

"It has been YEARS since I have been to a party that was not a family-event. This evening is different: it has a theme, it has stations, it has YOU, your sinful body and your wicked mind. I think I will have fun ;) "

You will, pet. We will.

Oh yes.