The tight dress was so low-cut that bending over would expose her bare ass to any onlooker. The dress was a mark of shame, a constant reminder that he... life had less value than those around her. The final shame was a tattoo that is branded on the upper arm of all slaves. A red trio of loops. "The Slave Sigil." A permanent form of evidence that shows you where once a slave, even if one was to escape their slave leathers.Finally after a long time the stains lifted from the sheets and flowed down. Besides I didn't want the sex shop Worker to realise that I was a man so Iwent into the changing room to try it on. As I unzipped my dress I lookedat myself in the mirror and wondered if it was a two way mirror. Istarted to feel nervous about putting on the corset. Having worked outhow to attach it I realised I needed to tighten it and called out for Janeto help me. By the time she had finished tightening my corset I couldbarely breathe. She left me in the changing room.It was a blue. More

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