Dear Sir Squiffingon-Smythe

I have heard rumours that you will be directing the end of term performance. I can think of nothing more thrilling than to be the bottom in your midsummer night’s dream.

Having recently proven my ability to make an ass of myself whilst in the latex cupboard, I feel that it is now time for me to progress to leather, and put myself into the hands of a fine upstanding member of staff such as yourself. Given the Academy’s uniform guidelines I propose that my bottom should be a leather clad ass, wearing thigh high leather boots, a leather mini skirt, silk shirt and a tight leather jacket and gloves. I appreciate that when I bend to go onto all fours I will creak, but if I was to attend your study before rehearsals perhaps you would consider rubbing organic cream into my costume to keep it supple.

As one of the animals in the play I understand that I will need to spend much of my time tethered by my collar and leash, and I undertake to be obedient to your commands at all times. I think you will find my dedication to playing second to none; this particular ass is experienced in receiving lines and is excited by the challenge of getting her tongue around something particularly hard.

Off to practice flute playing skills,
cariad