Clothes Maketh The Man — Part 21.

As I drew the matt steel blade across the sharpening stone I regarded Trixie, the chihuahua, with loathing. It had been three days. Three days of walking the disgusting creature, putting it’s poop in a plastic bag and carefully mashing it to see if it had passed the key to the chastity device between my legs.

The steel cage sat there, weighed with gravity to continually remind me of my humiliation. Simple…