Yes. This is another one fo those submissions that caused a fair amount of consternation at my household. My first version of the chair was too … sexual?… according to my wife. I compromised and redrew it. She wanted the lips gone as well, but I felt they were important to the story. Besides, I like drawing lips on furniture; it feeds an anthropomorphic need. Lots of things in this drawing that need fixing, but it will do for now. I would love to hear if this is offensive as my wife thinks it is. Personally, I think she has a dirty mind. 
↓ Transcript
[image] A man with a surprised look on his face, jumping from his chair.
[text] After dinner my guest walked into the parlor, chose a chair, and sat down. After ten minutes of shifting and squirming, he leaned his weight decidedly to one side, and attempted to look comfortable.
All at once he jumped from the chair screaming.
“It bit me!” He protested. “Your blessed chair bit me!”
“She can be particular about who she lets sit on her. I should have warned you, but it is often more of a chore explaining it, then it is letting her run her course. It’s rare that she bites.”
“She?”
“The chair, yes.” I offered a smile in sympathy to my friend. “She was crafted by an elven carpenter, carved from single expanse of wood, which was cut from a particular kind of tree.”
“Elves?”
“She submitted to the carving to repay a debt, and now, I am afraid, I hold that bond in escrow until the terms are fulfilled. 200 years from now I will release her indentured service; fulfilling her contract.
“A woman?” The man rubbed his backside ruefully.
“A chair. A Dryad to be exact; A wood nymph, once bound to a tree, and now, tethered to my household menagerie."
[text] After dinner my guest walked into the parlor, chose a chair, and sat down. After ten minutes of shifting and squirming, he leaned his weight decidedly to one side, and attempted to look comfortable.
All at once he jumped from the chair screaming.
“It bit me!” He protested. “Your blessed chair bit me!”
“She can be particular about who she lets sit on her. I should have warned you, but it is often more of a chore explaining it, then it is letting her run her course. It’s rare that she bites.”
“She?”
“The chair, yes.” I offered a smile in sympathy to my friend. “She was crafted by an elven carpenter, carved from single expanse of wood, which was cut from a particular kind of tree.”
“Elves?”
“She submitted to the carving to repay a debt, and now, I am afraid, I hold that bond in escrow until the terms are fulfilled. 200 years from now I will release her indentured service; fulfilling her contract.
“A woman?” The man rubbed his backside ruefully.
“A chair. A Dryad to be exact; A wood nymph, once bound to a tree, and now, tethered to my household menagerie."
