“Mistress, he gasped, “I am.” A final tug drew the restrictive garment down just a bit more. “Comfy?” I mocked. “No, Mistress.” I smiled...& gave him a little kiss on the cheek. “Perfect, you look so curvy & feminine, & that steel boning so improves your posture.” Dejectedly he nodded his agreement, as if he had any choice in the matter. “Now hurry on downstairs; Tyrone will be here for me soon & remember, he is Master Tyrone or Sir to you. I must finish dressing.” He curtsied as best as could,. It must have worked, however, since the questions stopped there. Picking up his pipe from the desk, the headmaster measured out a small wad of tobacco and packed it into the bowl. Striking a match, he puffed at the stem until the fire caught, and the pipe lit up with an orange ember glow.Sarah waited patiently for him to speak, her hands trembling a little as he opened a drawer to put the matchbook away.“So,” he said.So what, she wanted to ask, but she held her tongue.“So,” he said again, “What. More

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