The Fickle Rites of Courtship
Trish was sleeping, or pretending to be, when I got home. We’d had a short, petty little spat that morning; yet as short and petty as it was, I had been irritated by it all day. I plodded through work…
Blackmailed And Punished, Part 2
I knelt in the corner for several more minutes until he walked over and roughly pulled me to my feet with the leash. Once I was standing, he pulled the plug out of my sore ass before removing the clamps…