”“Well, that’s called compersion. Instead of feeling bad about what you see, you feel good about it ... and the next time, please ask to join in... I, for one, would want you anytime.”Marcia nodded. “I see what you mean. It’s a mindset.” We continued to dance around where this conversation could end up.“Exactly. YOU decide whether to be jealous or not, happy or not, angry or not. That’s the conscious you, not the ego-based knee-jerk reaction you. YOU make the judgment. Most people buy into. Overwhelmed for a moment by the shock and pain, I clawed frantically at the bra cups with one hand and the butt plug with the other - but after a few moments, realized I had no choice: there was no way to remove any of my costume without outside help! As I calmed down, however, and became more accustomed to the pain, I glanced in the mirror, and realized that Mistress might well accept the bound, punished slave I saw looking back at me.Cheered a little by that thought, and trusting that. But in order to heal the wound caused by what she wanted me to come fully out and tell her was indeed to help me heal mentally from it. And it sure did that!I don’t know how long I had laid there in that condition until things began to get clearer and clearer at least in my seeing things, and slowly as my eyesight returned from seeing stars flying about the whole galaxy, it did return.And once again right there face to face with me and now a big pillow under my head, was Patti who told me. It didn’t take Rebecca very long to have her strategy figured out. A father and his daughter had moved into a house on her street from England a couple years prior. Rebecca had become good friends with the daughter, Courtney, who was a year younger than Rebecca and spent a bit of time at her house. So she had gotten to know her father, Bastion, fairly well. She knew he was 39, and divorced. Rebecca figured Bastian would be an ideal target, as she felt confident the other girls would have.