Me: About that, I made a video of the prize I was giving you.H: When did you, I didn’t see.Me: I started the recording, kept it on the table and in ...hat video you are visible but because I was standing only my half body is.H: You bastard. (laughingly)Me: Well there’s one more thing I did with that video.H: What?Me: I uploaded a 30-sec clip of that video to a fake email and sent a one-time visible link to someone.H: Whom did you send that to, tell me.Me: Only if you do this one thing for me then. The touch of the feather is both pleasurable and excruciatingly intense in its lightness. The anticipation of where it will stroke next wakes up every nerve-ending in your body. All you can hear is your own breath, gasping each time the feather touches. I occasionally break contact, changing where the feather touches next, keeping you guessing; increasing your anticipation. You wriggle a little as I run the feather along the bottom of each buttock, raising your bum in the air as you become. Could you pass the soup please?" Myindifference was his torment.The few times I even referred to it were drawn in a manner to evidencecontempt, disdain, and belittlement."What sort of man gets a flower tattooed on his asshole?" I askedtauntingly."My weak, flaccid, sissy-loving, tiny man who likes it when his wifeputs her fist up his ass. That's who gets a flower tat on his ass!" Itwas too easy to mock him now. I occasionally threw out a quick "Sunny"when I wanted to grab his attention. It never. I had never seen anyone at the mansion so I felt quite sure that I would not be seen. I put on a white suspender belt, dark tan stockings, white frilly panties, a fairly short flared black skirt, a pink short sleeved shirt and black high heels. I put my favorite dildo into a small bag along with a jar of lubrication cream, I was going to have a good time.I left the house and set of down the path I loved the feeling of the wind blowing up under my skirt onto my bare thighs above my stocking.