I met a mistress in the sex toy shop this weekend. I didn’t know she was a mistress at first. Her large, pale breasts oozing out of her corset is what caught my eye. I wanted to know where she purchased the bedazzled contraption that fit so well. When I approached her, she gave me an icy stare. I immediately apologized for bothering her, suddenly feeling very sheepish and low. As I walked away, I was amazed at how one simple glance had zapped my confidence, and I felt my nipples harden at the thought of her intimidating and controlling me. I went, back over to her, and hurriedly asked if she was a mistress. She looked down at me – though we are the same height – and asked me why I thought I was worthy enough to speak to her. That was a yes. I changed my approach. I addressed her as Mistress Ginger, which made her smile, and asked if she would please allow me to serve her. She said she liked my tits, and we exchanged information.