Posted by Oliver Hendricks

Unravelling the logic of logistics

3h

Have you ever made a move in your career and found yourself suffering from buyers’ remorse?

I’ve been thinking about this lately, and I think it’s important to assess what you actually achieved - not just for you but for your company.

Sometimes it can hurt to let someone go. Sometimes you can doubt yourself, or worry about how it will be perceived.

Sometimes when you do, you’ll discover afterwards that there were good reasons.

It won’t take away your guilt, but guilt is based on connection, not on facts.

The facts are that I did the right thing. Probably the facts are that you did too.

Buyer’s remorse feels like you didn’t, but this can mislead you.

(thumbsup) (heart) (applaud) Alice Weston and 51 others

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*

The Twisting Chambers was busy that night, but then it usually was. Little Miss Jiggles knew it was busy, knew where everything was, but felt like a stranger to the space, all the same.

She was wearing white, as she always had done in the Chambers, but it was a white cut very differently; it had been an expensive outfit to assemble, too, but an expense Miss Alice had been quite happy to spend some of Little Miss Jiggles’ old money on.

Around her neck was a white leather collar, studded at inch-wide intervals around most of her neck with golden spikes, while across her throat was the word:

JIGGLES

in bold, sans-serif gold. She had a white wide-mesh swimsuit on which was the only support her jiggly fake tits had, and even that support was just from tying it behind the back of her neck; it wouldn’t get in the way of her jiggling, wouldn’t stop her giggling, and the new piercings were on full display.

The underbust corset beneath was the same white leather as the collar and had clearly been made by the same person, with its clasps also in gold and the tie cord threaded through its back glittering golden material itself.

Designed for waist training, it had been uncomfortable for Little Miss Jiggles not because it constrained her body but because it restricted her breathing, and Miss Alice had set her to wear it about the home for several days before the trip to the Twisting Chambers, so that she would be able to run errands, stand tall and smile, and do whatever else might be required of her in order to show off how good a plaything Little Miss Jiggles was for Miss Alice.

Beneath the corset the white mesh of the swimsuit was the only concession to her modesty, which was perfectly fine, as Little Miss Jiggles had no need of modesty, as Miss Alice had taught her clearly. Her surgically-enhanced body had been designed by someone made to fetishise porn stars, and she had done her very best to make Little Miss Jiggles embody that look. Modesty would have been shame at what she had been made, and she couldn’t be ashamed of what Miss Alice wanted her to be.

On her feet were tall white leather boots with raised platform heels and golden buckles, rising up to just below her knees, and above those, the only cheap looking part of her ensemble (except, Miss Alice had joked, for Jiggles herself) were a pair of white kneepads that might be worn by a nervous first-time rollerblader, just to highlight how eager Little Miss Jiggles was to be on her knees.

When she had attended Twisting Chambers of her own free will, as distasteful a concept as she now found that to be, she had usually had a room for privacy, and had interacted with the rest of the Chambers’ guests only to the extent she had chosen, creating a little queendom for herself.

This was not an option tonight, for Miss Alice liked to mingle, and Miss Alice was feeling generous, and because both of these were the case, Little Miss Jiggles was constantly either hovering over Miss Alice’s right shoulder or was being dispatched on one errand or another, fetching from the Chambers’ staff to save them the effort, so that everybody knew she was outranked in every way.

She was engaged on one such task - Miss Alice was talking to Lady Song, and after Lady Song mentioned a trick requiring a bottle of wine, Little Miss Jiggles had been sent for a bottle of champagne and a bowl of cashew nuts - when she ran into Molly the Dolly, quite literally; both of them hurrying along a crowded corridor, they had a sudden and fortunately well-padded collision.

“Oh! Molly, I’m sorry,” Little Miss Jiggles said, smiling widely. “It’s good to see you again.”

Molly’s eyes widened. “Joan?” she asked. “Joan Bradley?”

“Yes! Well, no - that is - I -“ Little Miss Jiggles blinked in confusion. This was complicated. She didn’t like complicated. Without thinking about it, she reached up with both hands, cupping her tits, lifting them, and letting go so that they jiggled, and then of course she giggled. Afterwards she felt much better. “It’s Little Miss Jiggles now,” she said. “I never realised how right this side of the slash is!”

Molly the Dolly gasped, but on Twisting Chambers nights all her conditioning was built around supporting the guests in whatever they wished to do. “I’ll remember, Little Miss Jiggles,” she promised, so that her Master’s guest would never worry she might be misnamed again. She hesitated, wondering if she should say more, before she essayed a nervous smile, bobbed a nod, and moved on, freeing up Little Miss Jiggles to collect the champagne and the small bowl of nuts, which she secured between her breasts so that she could hold the bottle in one hand and the two champagne flutes in the other.

On her way back, whenever she saw someone she knew to be dominant, she did as Miss Alice had asked of her, politely stopping by them, waiting for them to offer her their attention - interrupting them would have been shamefully embarrassing, she knew - and then inviting them to help themselves and “take your nut of my cleavage, compliments of Miss Alice.”

Many of them laughed, or smirked, but almost all of them accepted a nut, clearly having enjoyed the encounter, and Janice Huttlestone was smiling like she had an idea of her own now.

Miss Alice wanted, Little Miss Jiggles knew, to leave an impression on as many of the Chamber’s members as possible through just how helpful Little Miss Jiggles was willing to be, and so if one of them’s hand lingered in her cleavage, or if her ass was fondled, or if she was sped on her way on departure by a sharp slap of hand against rump, she made sure to smile fetchingly and coo or purr or moan as appropriate, and if it led to her jiggling, they would in any case get to hear her giggle and see her expression dissolve into something even more vacantly aroused.

Before too long she had found her way back to Miss Alice and Lady Song and the champagne had been presented with a flourish and a giggle and accepted with a condescension that Little Miss Jiggles now found deeply, frustratingly arousing - frustratingly because she was banned from cumming during the event, however much she might want to.

*

Little Miss Jiggles was kneeling, Madame Gwen’s unbooted foot in her hand, massaging it tenderly and eagerly while Miss Alice and Madame Gwen talked.

The two dominant women were involved in a negotiation, and while Little Miss Jiggles was not really listening, absorbed as she was in her own efforts, she was vaguely aware that they were negotiating what Madame Gwen would offer in return for Blair, who had at one time been one of Little Miss Jiggles’ submissives.

It was not really her affair, of course, and so she wasn’t really listening. From time to time she would shoot an adoring glance up to Miss Alice, smiling merrily to herself. Being back in the Twisting Chambers, as the self she now knew was her truest self, was strangely liberating; she had been here before, in the days when, for want of a Mistress, she had deluded herself she had free will. Now she knew her place and was happy.

Which was not to say that, when she heard a familiar male voice drawl “Pardon me, ladies, but I just wanted to compliment you on the manner of your submissive there,” that she didn’t sneak a quick glance to help her place the voice.

Her eyes met those of Oliver Hendricks, and she recognised him at once and flashed him a quick smile, but his expression showed no recognition, just a quick flicker as if something had stirred in his memory.

“It’s Mr Hendricks, isn’t it?” Miss Alice asked. “You know, I almost would have bet you wouldn’t accept my invitation, coming among we deviants like this.” The amusement she obviously felt positively sang through her voice, and Little Miss Jiggles saw nervousness in Oliver’s eyes.

The poor dear, she thought. He had been out of his depth when she’d known him and he was clearly out of his depth again now.

“Oh, well,” he said, lifting his shoulders and injecting something of a pompous bluster into his voice, “you know me, ma’am. Any opportunity to network is a good one.”

His eyes kept flicking back to Little Miss Jiggles. She confused him, she could see that. She wanted to speak up and greet him for herself, but she wasn’t at all sure that was what Miss Alice would want. There might be some reason she hadn’t introduced them.

“Well, indeed.” She turned to Madame Gwen and confided privately, “Oliver here hired me at one point to enrich myself, although he saw it more as removing an impediment.”

Little Miss Jiggles wasn’t very happy to have been thought of as an impediment, but she was delighted that Miss Alice thought taking ownership of her and all she possessed had been enriching herself.

“Ah,” and he flushed, “yes.” He nodded.

“I was rather hoping you’d make it,” Miss Alice said. “I quite wanted to perform an experiment, you see.”

“An experiment? Here?” He looked worried for a second, as if contemplating a future in which he discovered that free will, though precious, could be surrendered easily. And then his eyes widened and he turned back to stare at Little Miss Jiggles. “You can’t mean-“

However he had intended to finish his sentence, if indeed he had had any planned idea, he trailed off rather than say anything.

“She does look rather different, doesn’t she? I confess I was briefly concerned that she might want to push back to her old self and take back her old job. So I took some steps. Stand up, Little Miss Jiggles.”

“Yes, Miss Alice.” She was practiced now in rising from her knees and she came up on the bounce, jiggling to make Oliver’s eyes nearly pop out and, of course, to set herself off in a rampant burst of the giggles.

“Impressed, Oliver? You gave me the opening I needed to create this,” Miss Alice said, quite cheerfully and confidently, and both she and Little Miss Jiggles watched the confusion of emotions and conflict of ethics that flickered across his face.

“Just give him a quick stroke, Jiggles, and a kiss on the cheek,” Miss Alice said. “Enough to be sure he’ll remember your touch. Not enough that it won’t take his imagination tonight.”

There was such venom dripping archly from her words, a spice to the amusement that characterised Miss Alice’s voice more and more often these days.

Such venom, but she had in any case been given an order. She swayed over to him, eyes on him, feeling the confidence that came through obedience. “Yes, Miss Alice,” she purred, and his furiously red cheeks - and the rest of him - stayed in place and simply watched her advance, a rabbit caught on the gaze of a cobra, although in his case it wasn’t her eyes but those big, fake, pornstar titties Dr Carter was so proud of that seemed to have him so captivated.

She leaned in close, kissing him on the cheek, and her hand closed around his cock from outside his suit pants. She gave him a slow, tight stroke, up and down once, no more, her eyes boring into his. He seemed to shudder under her grip before she released him and stepped back.

A moment later, Madame Gwen cleared her throat. “Oh!” she exclaimed. “May I, Miss Alice?”

“You will,” Miss Alice answered, as was her custom when Little Miss Jiggles asked permission to resume a command.

Little Miss Jiggles knelt and resumed massaging the other domme’s feet, while unnoticed except by Miss Alice, Oliver Hendricks retreated awkwardly from Twisting Chambers, debating all the while how much of what he’d seen he could afford to tell the business world.