...I realise. If all of the servants and slaves are trained using 'Mia's rather unique methods, they may not be of much use to some of our clientele. And considering that we must appeal to a broad spectrum of tastes and preferences, this could present a problem.

"Perhaps, 'Mia, we should establish some guidelines, some teensy, tinsy rules that the slaves and servants must adhere to. That should be sufficient, don't you think?"

'Mia thinks about it for a moment. "Like what, Boss? I mean, you know me, I can train 'em to do anything..." She smiles with good-natured wickednes.

"Well," I say slowly, "the first one that comes to mind is, No begging strangers for punishment without prior permission from 'Mia or Morga."

I look at 'Mia with raised eyebrows. "Yes?"

Her head nods. "That's an easy one."

I continue. "The servant or slave MUST absolutely be able to function when NOT trussed up like a chicken...and not whine about it. Agreed?"

"That's fine. But I think there's a corollary to that one, Able to function WHILE trussed up like a chicken, and proud of it!" 'Mia contributes.

"Oh, very good one," I say approvingly.

My thoughts turn to the difficulties of housework in the gynaceum. "I think we should also mandate No cleaning the floor with tongues, and while we're at it, how about No drooling on the carpets, no matter how tight the bit is?"

I look at 'Mia's somewhat unusual attire very pointedly. No swooning over the scent of leather ... or leather-covered objects. Agreed?"

'Mia looks sad at having one of her favorite disciplines ripped away, but finally acquiesces, sighing and looking at looking at the ceiling. "If I have to, Boss."

"One more, 'Mia." I give her a very stern look. This is important. "There is to be No fainting from lack of oxygen due to extra large anythings."

Well, I think, I'm glad that's settled.

I survey the ladies again, "Now, any more questions?"