There’s a particular kind of satisfaction that only comes from a truly productive day of shopping not your usual “milk, bread, bog roll” kind of haul, but the sort where PVC is involved, and at least one item makes the checkout assistant pause before asking, “Gift receipt?”
It began innocently enough — a casual browse for something new to wear. Naturally, this spiralled into several hours of outfit try-ons, mirror smirking, and the realisation that my wardrobe is now about 73% high-shine material and vaguely villainous boots. I regret nothing.
Then it was off to the equestrian centre — not because I’ve taken up dressage, but because certain items (paddles and whips) suffered unfortunate fates last weekend. Apparently, “durable” wasn’t quite durable enough. So yes, replacements were acquired. The assistant asked if I was buying for a spirited gelding. I said yes, though not in the way she probably imagined.
Next stop: the sort of boutique that sells things with warning labels and zip ties not intended for luggage. Came away with handcuffs, chastity bits, and a new strap-on so large it may need its own drawer (or postcode). Because, it turns out, “extra large” is more of a suggestion than a guarantee.
But this weekend wasn’t just about gear, it was about me. Mistress Eve was overdue some royal treatment, and I am pleased to report that I received it. I met up with one of my more devoted admirers, a sweet little pay pig who insisted (and I do mean insisted) on footing the bill for an all-out makeover.
Hair: done. Nails: razor-sharp and divine. Makeup: luxury level, darling, the kind you don’t apply, you command. I spent freely (as is my right), and he glowed with joy at every swipe of the card. I may have been slightly alarmed at how quickly the total added up, but he didn’t flinch. Which is exactly the sort of energy we like to encourage.
So yes, a wildly successful weekend. I feel refreshed, empowered, and ever so slightly dangerous. He feels broke and blissful. The world feels just as it should.
Deliciously tempting, unapologetically cruel, just the way you secretly hoped I’d be.
Yet again, I was meant to have a quiet weekend to myself… but being the exceptionally generous Mistress I am, I found myself making space for one of you dear things because, of course, my slaves come first.