Sinful Small Stories

It’s slowly getting dark outside the windows as I’m waiting on the spot we agreed upon. I’ve been standing here for close to half an hour by now, obediently keeping my gaze on the ground, just like you’ve told me to - but I have to admit that it is getting harder by the minute. The gusts of wind sneaking in through the open doors still has a long way until they become a pleasant summer breeze and I’m wearing a skirt that is a little too short for my own liking… and especially since I’ve ben ordered not to wear panties - but I have been told what to wear and I am sure as hell not going to jeopardise what just might come this evening. It’s been a long time coming and during the recent weeks I’ve come to reevaluate what I used to think was written in stone. Don’t get me wrong, I am most definitely a woman with a lot of strong opinions and I am pretty sure of my own value… but tonight I intend to surrender myself to somebody else’s will and do what I am commanded to do. The nervousness and...

So, here's a story that does have a bit of reality to lean back on...  The thing about being a car owner is that it is somewhat a necessary evil. If you live where I do, pretty far away from the nearest city and somewhat outside the civilisation you really don’t have much of a choice. Sure, I probably could find a way to get to and from work every day with busses or such… but last time I checked it would mean leaving for work a good two and a half hours earlier than I do now - and get home in the evening approximately the same amount of time later. It really isn’t very tempting.  The car we own is neither new nor very old, it’s somewhere in between and it usually works pretty well… but the car, same as its owner, has reached an age when there is bound to turn up some problems sooner or later. When it comes to the car; that time is now. I just got it back from the yearly service and apart from doing the service the work shop has noted several more or less urgent things that nee...

It’s almost five o’clock when I check into the hotel I’ve chosen for my solo trip. See, I’ve got this very powerful wish to just have some serious me-time every now and then. Don’t get me wrong, I love my home and I love my family very much - but sometimes, just to keep me sane, I need to go away on my own. No plans, nothing I have to do, nothing booked more than a hotel room. I’m going to be staying here for two nights and the only thing I’ve packed is three paperbacks, two changes of underwear, my toilet bag and some makeup. Oh, and I might have stuffed my sex toys in there too, just on a whim, approximately fifteen seconds before I got in the car and my husband drove me to the train station. Well, it’s said to be relaxing, isn’t it? To get an orgasm? I just figured I might need a bit of help in the relax department, that’s all. Besides, it’s only two thingies, no big deal.  The receptionist tells me that breakfast is served Saturday and Sunday from 8 to 10:30, hands me the key c...