 | Ironing Day |
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Hello?
It took you five rings to answer the telephone. Is that acceptable?
No, Mistress. I was getting the mail and forgot to take the extension phone with me. I’m sorry.
I am very busy running a real estate office here, Thomas. I don’t have time for your fuck-ups. Two Rings! The rules are clear.
Yes, Mistress.
Have you had your piss popsicle?
Yes, Mistress. Exactly at Noon, just like you said. Thank you.
And did you wear your pink sissy bloomers to the mail box?
Yes, Mistress. I think the paperboy saw me. It was very embarrassing.
And the ironing? Have you finished it yet?
I have two more of your blouses to do and that will be it, Mistress.
So the iron is still plugged in, correct?
Oh, Mistress, please, no.
Get the iron, Thomas. Now.
Yes, Mistress.
Are you ready, Thomas?
Yes, Mistress.
Pull your right testicle out of the right leg of your sissy bloomers.
Ohhhh…
Right now. Do it.
Yes, Mistress.
Now place the bottom of the iron on that testicle, Thomas. Hold it there while I count to three. Don’t dare take it off. And don’t you dare scream.
Yes, Mistress.
One. Two. Three. Are you crying, Thomas?
Yes, Mistress.
Good. Do you think you will answer the phone within two rings the next time I call?
Yes, Mistress. I have learned my lesson. You were right to punish me. I was very stupid and I am so sorry.
Go finish the ironing. And prepare dinner for two this evening. I will be bringing home a guest.
Yes, Mistress.
Ok, I will see you later then.
Mistress?
Yes, what is it?
I love you.
***Edit: Yes, I did write this. Originally for Blistered Lips, which you would find here if you are so inclined.
“Why?” I was asked by a certain someone who will remain nameless, but not linkless. Mostly because I love the art of fantasy in all it’s sickeningly sweet & perverse guises. And the scene in the story just wouldn’t happen at my place, ‘cuz I don’t even own an iron, nor would I ever cause such damage to any human being. But I do occasionally find it fun to think about. And, yes, I am the same girl who also wrote this. I can’t figure me out, but I’m sure having fun.
Wow. Glad I’m not one of your slaves if this is how you treat them. And I thought I was kinky!
Very hot story. Oh to live on Sugar Mountain, With the barker and the colored balloons.
Hey, a boy can dream, can’t he?
The beauty of fantasy played out on the phone with privacy and art is that one can trot out all sorts of weirdness and no harm is done anyone. I am tons more vanilla than the subject of Angela’s dialogue, but what’s the problem with going for a kinky ride with a pro like Angela at the wheel? It’s always amazing.
If it weren’t for the iron on the testicles it would read just like a few “malesub” blogs I visit regularly.
I keep wondering why these people buy so much clothing that requires ironing.
And why they seem to all live in three bathroom homes since that there are at least three are the only way I can figure out how the guys spend so much time talking about bathroom cleaning.
There are times when Angela has such wicked naughty thoughts that she makes me shudder. Here we are again.
Pervert Q. Savant sent an email re. this post: I hope that guy you decided to iron out on Zen Fetish had the setting on “Mist” at the critical moment.
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