Your erotic stories

Her Mistress was angry. She couldn't remember what she had done, but she was being punished for it now. She was blindfolded and placed on the edge of a stool. Her wrists locked onto either side of a three-foot dowel, hoisted above her head and stretched until her shoulders ached. Her legs were cuffed at the thigh and tied to the wall behind her so that her sex was exposed and opened.

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Ironing! God, I HATE ironing, but the height of the pile of clothes awaiting my attentions had grown to such a level, that I needed to do something about it. So there I stood; unhappily, surrounded by slowly growing piles of neatly laundered pants, t-shirts, dress-shirts and sweaters.

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