He was finally deposited at a Formica table in Mistress Nemesis's dingy little kitchen, fully clothed, shamefully packing his spanking new kiddie-knickers underneath his corduroys, the worst of his session now over.
    "I suppose you're wondering where I got them from," remarked his Mistress, refering to the knickers. "Well, it was a few Saturdays ago, me and a fellow Dominatrix were in town, laughing about some of the weirdos we have to contend with, when we wound up wandering into Mothercare. God knows why we went in there but anyway, we mooched around for a bit when all of a sudden I found myself staring at the boys underpants. Needless to say, I couldn't resist buying a pack, after all, they were sooo cute; and I thought to myself: I know who these'll look good on."
    "Who?" He asked dimly.
    "You dummy! It's as if they were tailor-made for you."
    The midget didn't respond, for he knew she was right, yet he didn't really feel like divulging that Mothercare was his usual sartorial haunt.
    "Want some warm milk?" asked Mistress Nemesis.
    "Not really," he muttered.
    "Well tough shit, cos you're getting some," she replied, retrieving a filth-encrusted pan from a disorderly looking cupboard and ensconcing it on the rickety stove. "And if you don't drink up every last drop of it," she continued, "You're ripe for a night in the dungeon." She flashed her client a quick triumphant smile, just to remind him who was in control, before retrieving a pint bottle from the squat little fridge.
    "I do that often now, you know," she said, emptying the pint into the pan.
    "Do what."
    "Go and buy stuff I wouldn't normally need"
    "Oh right."
    "You know I guess it's all in a Dominatrix's lot really: I mean I wouldn't be mail ordering plastic incontinence pants if I didn't have several fully-blown 'adult babies' on me roster."
    She unscrewed another bottle of plonk and poured herself a glass. The midget looked up imploringly at his Mistress. "Not for you," she said, "You've got some delicious warm milk to look forward to, plus I would feel grossly irresponsible giving alcohol to a tot." She laughed dramatically then tossed off the plonk.