Dominant Mother
Peter heard the click clack of high heels on the stone floor of the cellar coming towards him. He was naked and tied to a bench, his arms were tied to the side, his feet with his knees bent were tied to the legs. His back rested on the black rubber covered seat. He knew she would be wearing something tight and shiny. ‘Easier to wipe clean,’ she had laughed. There would be pain and pleasure, mostly his pain and her pleasure, he thought, but Peter knew that she loved him. She had to,...