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Writing: Going deep in subspace at the Complex The Disneyland Star Wars exhibit is opening soon, but there is another option for a deep space experience in Southern California—at the Complex of Mistress Irene Boss. When I entered the Complex, the Mistress was calmly sitting on a sofa in a spandex outfit so tight that she wore no bra. She had me on my knees immediately worshipping her feet through the lattice of her new high heels. While I kissed the toes and instep so gloriously encased in these stilettos, she interrogated me to see if I followed her instructions. “Are you in chastity?” “Yes, Mistress.” “Did you bring two outfits to wear?” “Yes, Mistress.” “I am glad to see you are wearing my collar.” “Yes Mistress.” “You will take only a few minutes to dress in your first outfit and go to the next room and lay face up on the table. “Yes, Mistress.” I tried to dress a quickly as possible, but my hands were shaking from anticipation and it was difficult to fasten the garters. I had chosen a pale purple skirt and a simple white blouse that was thin enough to show my bra. I decided to go “au naturel” on top for this session with a white 36B I purchased online. I really am an A, but it is difficult to get bras with that cup size. White hose were attached to an old-fashioned white panty girdle and a teeny tiny white thong was added just for show. Vanilla-colored gladiator high heels completed my pastel outfit (well, along with the wig and earrings). Once on my back on the table, the Mistress began her inspection. She confirmed my chastity, laughed at the size of my thong, and checked out the stretch of my panty girdle. She had me roll over and began strapping me to the table. “Spread your legs,” she ordered as she put the belts on my ankles. “More,” she demanded as I strained my legs against the tight purple pencil skirt. She pulled on each ankle as she made the final attachment and each foot was pulled with the toe down enforcing the high arch already in my gladiator heels. For my wrists, she mercifully rigged an alternative bondage that allowed me to move my shoulders since she knows I have shoulder issues. Each wrist was tightly strapped, but then the straps were attached to a rope she ran under my chin and under the table so I could move along the rope line.
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