Dear sir,
Your slut is writing this per your orders, I am sat on my panties so as not to wet your suede armchair with the brass nipple clamps you bought for my birthday and sapphire butt plug up my bruised ass. My tits still show the welts from the punishment your belt inflicted on Thursday. My burning nipples are stinging and emitting the most electric ache through my chest giving me butterflies all the way down to my pussy, a staunch reminder of your ownership over my body. As I squirm in the seat I feel the plug jolt against my anal cavity, the bullet in my posterior wiggling with every twitch of my naked leg. The sensation makes me miss your warm hands clasping my cheeks as a remedy to the cold, hard toy reminding me that I deserve this discomfort for being a naughty brat.
I have been eagerly awaiting your return home, my pussy flutters thinking about what you're going to do to me when you get home from work and reclaim me as your pet. I humbly and gratefully accept your wish that I write to you about my day. After you left for the office this morning it took all my might to hop out of bed. To distract myself from your absence I must confess I rubbed my wet cunt thinking of you (over the top of my panties). I know you will want to punish me for that when you read this, I was just so needy and craved orgasm thinking about you drinking your coffee while my head bobs up and down on your beautiful cock.
It was naughty of me, afterwards I felt ashamed, so I did all the chores you left on the fridge for your bitch. Scrubbing the kitchen floor fully plugged (as required) on my hands and knees. Then all your clothes were washed, dried and ironed, even your socks. Thinking about the fabric of your freshly laundered shirt hanging from your broad shoulders and watching as you crumple my diligent ironing, scrunching the sleeves up to deal with me. Imagining this turns me on beyond expression, how I hate to disappoint you and your delectable forearms. During this time, as I tidied our bedroom, I thought about what I want you to do on top of me upon your return.
I have a few ideas that I will tell you about presently. This day has been so long without you. The day slips into a dull lull while you're away and housework bores me endlessly. As respite from your dreary absence I had a NiΓ§oise salad for my lunch and read my book in the garden- granted Victor Hugo is a relatively dry read that is a tad depressing, however the idea of a bell ringer ostracised from society due to his physical appearance is a bittersweet arc that makes my soul weep for man's cruel judgement and despondency. I pity the lonely creature, however who doesn't love a good social commentary?