I find my boots and put them on one after the other, sitting with my bare ass on the earth. The recent release of sexual energy has a sobering effect. I am plainly cold now, I notice the drizzle and want to move on. I am tired. The spell has dimmed.

The vibrator mechanically grinds away. (Master! Have I not yet satisfied you?)

I wrap the tartan skirt around my hips once more and fix it with the safety pin.

The short walk back. I stroll back, pre-occupied, less than energetically, breasts hanging. I rudely awake from my depths, when I hear a car approaching, stopping and having its engine switched off. I am within a stone's throw of the car park where I left mine. The car door opens. I hear a dog (dog!) barking, a woman's voice, the car door thrown shut. What to do? Can this bitch confront this woman and her dog? Should the bitch return? Hide in the dense scrubs along the path? I stall, cannot decide. Through the trees, underneath an umbrella, I see the woman and her dog approach. Too close to escape! (Pray it is not one of Mrs.V's acquaintances!) So let me be my Master's proud bitch and confront her. I hurry towards her. Five steps... ten... twenty... Her dog barks at me - a dog myself -, the lady stops in her tracks: 'Oh, my Lord!' (Imagine! She saw a half naked woman barge past, bare breasted, grazed chest, a dog's collar and leash around her neck, with a running vibrator in her mouth.) I hear myself utter these words: 'Excuse me!' (How civilised, even under adverse conditions!) She looks more ashamed than I was and that means a lot. (Thank god. I don't think I have ever seen her before, if my perception is up to par. How about hers?)

Is she still looking at me? I have no idea. Would she see me walk around my car once and once more? I walk round to the front of the car. She would see me sink down on my knees, bend over and stretch deep underneath the engine, now cold as I. I find my car keys. My breasts, my nipples touch the cold soil! I press them against the ground. I imagine I am crouched before my Master, who towers high above me. I kiss the ground he stands on. I imagine he places his foot on my head and lightly presses it down. How attractive this cold, black soil of mother earth.

Mrs. V. opens the door of the car, takes the tails of the raincoat in her left hand, lets herself drop inside on the low seat and puts the tails to one side. She opens the skirt and hitches it up, her bare ass in contact with the leather. (A sensuous cold touch!)

The twenty minutes' drive takes me back to where I belong. (Do I still belong there, or have I sold my soul and lost any right to belong, where respectable Mrs. V. once lived?) The vibrator gyrates slowly inside me; it irritates me.

I arrive in my street. My pretty upper-middle-class neighbourhood, its strange houses and people. One or two out and about. I pretend not notice them. It is all so strange on this strange day, foremost Mrs.V. herself.