My friends call me a hoarder, but I don’t think I am.

Though I do have a beautiful walk-in closet that I can’t use because it’s filled with stuff that I can’t bring myself to throw away, like gifts from old boyfriends, stuff from college, even toys from my childhood. But I knew I needed help when I nearly tripped over a pile of shoes that should have been stored in the closet.

I finally reached out to my friend April. She used to model and still walks as if she owns the world. I love her take-charge attitude. She’s the most unsentimental person I know, and she’s ruthless when it comes to tossing things. Her condo looks spartan by my standards, but I’d hoped we’d be able to compromise.

April arrived bright and early on Saturday morning with lattes, croissants, and a huge box of trash bags. She handed me the food and drinks and went straight to the bedroom. April opened the biggest box and began pulling out various items, asking me what they were and why I’d kept them. I was able to make a case for retaining some things, but others she relegated to the junk pile.

When April pulled out a bag I’d completely forgotten about, I suddenly remembered what it held. I tried to grab it from her, but April stands a good six inches over me and she easily moved it out of my reach.

“Now you’ve piqued my curiosity, and I just have to see what’s in here,” she said, flashing me a quick smile. When she unzipped the bag and looked inside, she did a double take — from the bag to me and back.

“Who’d have thought it?” she said, laughing as she pulled out a set of fuzzy handcuffs, a paddle, silk ropes and scarves, ankle cuffs, and everything else I thought I’d never have use for again.

“Spill,” she said. “I know they’re yours, so who used them on you?”

“An old boyfriend,” I admitted. “Haven’t used them in years.”

“You kept them, so I know you enjoyed it,” she said. “Why don’t we see how much?”

I felt that familiar thrill I used to get when my ex-boyfriend said I’d been bad. When I knew he was going to punish me. When I knew I wanted him to discipline me for some minor infraction. I backed out of the closet and into the bedroom and waited for April to show me the error of my ways.

“I guess it’s up to me to punish you for keeping such a messy closet, Lily,” she said. “Take off your clothes and get on the bed.”

“Yes, April.” With shaking hands, I stripped off my clothes and climbed on the bed, waiting for instructions.

“Get on your knees, facing the headboard, Lily.”

I did as she said, and she bound my wrists together with one of the silk ties. Then she used a scarf to blindfold me. I loved not knowing what was coming next and realized how much I’d missed having someone I trusted take control. If anyone could do right by me, it was April. I felt her hand slip between my legs and knew she would feel how wet I was. She’d know how much I wanted this. I tried to push down on her hand and she snatched it away, reminding me that I was not to move or come unless she gave me permission. Then I felt the first stinging strike against my right ass cheek. Another to my left. Right, left, right, left. My juices began running down my thighs, and I wanted to rub them together as she rained blows with the paddle. I moaned and keened and felt the orgasm building within me. Then the spanking stopped, and I felt April’s fingers push into my cunt, fucking me and moving over my sweet spot. It was so hot, I felt that if she didn’t let me come I’d die.

“You’re a bad, messy girl, Lily,” she said as her fingers moved in and out. “But you can come now.”

I screamed out my release as April swirled her skilled fingers inside me. I cried and came and came and came, and finally collapsed against the bed. April released my bonds and removed my blindfold. I felt wrung out, but so good.

“I think we can agree to keep your little bag of goodies, correct?” she asked.

“Whatever you say, April,” I answered.