Jennifer - A Dom/sub Love Story

Finally, after months of searching, there it was! The ad Jennifer had been searching for finally showed up on Craigslist! She just knew this was the right one for her, she could feel it!

Housekeeper with Benefits Wanted: Rubenesque, petite brunette wanted to perform chores around home. You must be submissive and obedient, willing to take instructions without question and willing to accept punishment if you do not perform up to par. I will teach you what I require and you will learn as you go. I am waiting for you to contact me for more information. I expect you to respond promptly.

Jennifer was typing a response email almost as soon as she had finished reading the listing. It was so exciting to find the right ad; she couldn't wait for the response.

I believe I am the maid that can provide you with all the services you require. My housekeeping skills are impeccable and I am willing to provide additional services that you may so desire. I am new to this, but am a quick study and eager to please. If you are willing to teach me, please contact me.

On a whim, Jen decided to attach a copy of herself in her old French maid uniform. She went with it figuring that it accentuated every curve of her voluptuous body. In her mind the picture was a gamble. She had responded to CL ads before, only to be disappointed. This outfit used to fit a little better, but she had put on a few pounds and gravity was taking its toll in the years since she bought it. Jen had met a few men, sight unseen, only to be told that they considered her too old, or that they were expecting a 20-something gym body. They wanted a tight firm ass, and perfect breasts. "Perfect," she thought, "you mean fake! These are all me and someone needs to appreciate that!" Glancing out the window, Jennifer saw the local hottie jogging down her street. Rachel Bream was the teenage daughter in the house on the corner. Her long golden locks and large breasts always turned the heads of the neighborhood boys and men. Sure she may play innocent, but we all know that she knows damn well what she is doing when she squeezes on that obviously small sports bra and those skin tight bike shorts to run in. "Enjoy those big firm boobs now," Jen says aloud to herself. "They may be nice enough to get you some attention now, but in a few years you are gonna look like me." Jen glances down at her sagging D-cup breasts, barely covered by the maid costume. She unties the neck straps and turns to look at herself in the hall mirror. Cupping each breast in her hands, she raises them and says, "We've had some fun in our days, haven't we girls?"

Jen lowered her breasts slowly to their natural level, almost as if watching gravity take its effect on them through some high speed camera that has filmed her over the years. She thought back to the first and only time she put the outfit on for her former boyfriend. That was several years ago and the two had been living together a few years. She was looking to spice things up a bit and decided to surprise him when he arrived home from work. But instead of the reaction she expected, he told her to take the silly thing off. It's not Halloween he said... That had been the final straw with him. Shortly after that, Jen moved out on her own again. In the years since, she has pursued her sexual education. The internet was a wonderful place for her to discover so many new things. In retrospect, she realized that her old flame was actually holding her back. If she were still with him, she never would have discovered the wide open world of fetish sex, and her most recent interest in being a submissive. Just the thought of being controlled by some strange man excited her.

At first Jennifer checked her email inbox every hour. She was so aroused at the thought that she could feel her panties get damp each time she logged in searching for any response. With none in the inbox, she was dying to give her hot loins some attention. Just a few fingers briefly, she thought. The good stuff is yet to come. "Mmm," the moisture on her fingers tasted like honey on her tongue. "How long before he samples my kitty?" she wonders, as she slides her fingers in again. Her fingers are sufficient for now, but she grows impatient as the hours, then days go by.

It actually takes the better part of a week before something happens. Jennifer was actually starting to feel like this was not going to be the one. Doubts had clouded her mind and she was just about to give up. She decided to look for the last time. "If he hasn't answered me now, I will give up," she decides. But there it was! On her last try, the response had finally arrived!

You have waited for me this long. I see you can be patient. You have passed the first test. Most other responders send another email before the week is out, but you did not. I like that.

"He likes me! He likes me! Oh I hope this works out!" The moistness between her thighs returns as Jennifer read on...

I require two things. You must arrive to my home attired as I direct, and you must respect my time. If you will commit to these things, we may proceed.

Jen's response is short and to the point.

Sir, I am eager to serve and please you. Please allow me the chance to prove it.

A day later his response is received. Jennifer practically cums in her pants when she sees his message in the inbox.

You have been granted the chance. Do not let me down. Tell me your sizes so that I will have the proper uniform for you when you arrive.

"Sizes," Jen wonders. "I have my own maid outfit already, but if I must follow instructions, I will do as I am told."

I wear a size 10 pants and a medium or large top, depending on how tight I want the blouse.

Jennifer figured she would give her new mystery man the chance to decide if he wanted her in a clingy outfit or not. It seems the game had begun already. "I wonder what sort of uniform he is going to make me wear."

In two days' time Jennifer received another email instructing her to come to his home on Saturday in the early morning for a 6am start. She was to wear absolutely nothing under an overcoat.

Your uniform will be provided when you arrive.

In the early spring an overcoat is not a problem, but in the mid summer Jen wonders if an overcoat will provoke questions from the neighbors. "Wow," she thinks. "This guy is serious business!"

Saturday arrives and Jennifer has prepared herself as instructed. After a shower, she shaved her pubic hair, and applied her sexiest body lotion scent. Striding to the front door wearing nothing between her smile and her green sandals, Jen takes an overcoat from the closet and puts it on. She carefully ties the waist belt, takes a deep breathe and steps out her front door. Walking down the driveway, Jen tries to shake the feeling that the neighbor next door picking up her paper from her lawn knows what she is up to. Jen throws up a polite wave as she walks to her car, not wanting to let go of the coat for too long. Climbing into the front seat she notices a heat growing between her legs, and grabs the coat flaps to ensure she doesn't flash the neighborhood.

Thinking about what is the day may bring as she drives, the heat between her legs continues to grow. Squirming in the driver's seat, she can't help but reach a hand between her legs at the red light. She smiles at the male driver in the car next to her as the light changes, waving her cum soaked fingers "good-bye" as she speeds off. It is one of those times that she wishes that she was not driving a stick shift so she could continue her fingering as she drives, but she has another idea come to mind. Turning the a/c vents, she manages to send a cool breeze directly into her lap, helping cool the fire down below. The exhilaration is inspiring on the drive.

Turning into the driveway, Jennifer can see his modest home. It is not the awe inspiring mansion she had imagined, but she was not going to let that spoil the excitement. It was a two-story brick house with a chimney on the roof. "Must be at least a 3 bedroom." she evaluates. In the driveway, again cautious not to flash the old man on the next driveway, she clenches the bottom of the coat as she walks up the driveway in the morning breeze. The cool morning air is enjoyable as it flows up between your thighs.

Jen rings the doorbell, and the door opens wide. With the shaded by the trees in the front yard, she cannot see the face of the man that greets her, but she hears his gravely voice,

"You are quite prompt. Very good. You may address me as Sir. Do please come inside." Stepping thru the door, he shuts it behind you and asks if she has dressed appropriately. Jen nods her response. "Please remove your coat and hang it on the stand by the door." Turning towards the stand, Jen's stomach starts to churn. The feelings of insecurity start to creep into her mind. Untying the belt, the fear of rejection starts to cloud her brain.

"Why do you hesitate," he asks her?

Jen realizes that she had frozen to the spot and not yet removed her coat. A strong hand rests on her neck from behind. His breath is warm on her neck as he says, "Let me make myself very clear. I expect from you absolute obedience, and immediate satisfaction, do you understand?"

His hand tightens on Jennifer's neck with the question, and his other hand reaches to pull her coat open. She feels the air conditioned air on her backside for the briefest moment before his free hand comes in hard and loud on her soft white generous bottom. A moan of pain escapes her lips as her hips lunge forward in reaction to the slap. Jen is not sure if she was actually hurt, or just shocked.

"Now," he says, "down the hall on the right, you will find a room containing your uniform and cleaning supplies. Please put on the uniform and bring the bucket back here with you."

Slowly Jen slinks down the hall, thinking about what just happened. She dared not turn her head to peek at her backside, but she imagines it is already turning red. She knows he is watching her, and she hopes her imperfections are not disappointing him. In the room she finds a mattress on a metal frame. It resembles a military bunk in its simplicity. On the bed is a bucket with several items inside. Some she identifies as cleaning tools, but the rest, for now, are a mystery. Hung over a chair is the uniform. A purple sleeveless men's undershirt, the kind affectionately called a 'wife beater.' Under the shirt is a purple pair of panties, cut more like shorts than underwear. Pulling on the top, Jen realizes that it's too tight. "This has to be two sizes too small," she thinks. With each breath the fabric mercilessly squeezes her breasts. The panties are too small too, leaving more than half of her ass cheeks hanging out the bottom. They take some getting used to, but the fabric is quite forgiving.

Jen takes a moment to look at herself in the mirror. A deep sigh escapes as she does not like what she sees. "Why is time so cruel to women and not men," she asks as she looks at her sagging breasts again. The men used to stumble over themselves as they used to compete for her attention. Her diminutive 5' 2" 103lb frame only accentuated the size of her 34D bustline. Her long flowing auburn hair waved freely in the breeze, waving in potential male suitors. In recent years though, she has put on a few pounds and inches. The washboard stomach is gone, and everything has started to sag. The auburn hair is still there, but she occasionally helps it out with a dye job. "Well," she thinks, "youth doesn't have experience. At least I got that!"

Jen grabs the bucket and walks back down the hallway hurriedly, knowing she has made him wait. He is standing in another doorway now. He ushers her through and she is standing in the kitchen.

"I want you to scrub the floor in here," he says.

"But it already looks clean enough to eat off of." she responds.

His eyes widen as he looks at Jennifer. "That was your second mistake girl," he says, stepping closer to you. "What part of 'without question' did you not understand? Now you have earned some punishment."

His hand clamps down around your upper arm as he practically drags Jennifer to the living room. There is a footrest off the bottom on the couch where he tosses her down over it. She fears what is to come, and already not sure if it was a good idea to come here.

"I'm sorry Sir, Jen says, "I'll never question you again!!"

"You said you were a quick study, but already you need another lesson!"

The sound of Jennifer's scared breathing is pierced by the sound of flesh striking meaty flesh. Whack!! His large hand strikes the bare part of her fleshy white bottom. It stings. whack!! A second slap lands, but on the drawback, Jen is barely conscious of him running a finger between her legs. Whack, whack! 2 more quick hits and this time Jen is sure that he slipped a finger between her thighs. She can feel the heat of the redness in her ass cheeks; they must be flush with color by now. Pulling Jen up by your hair, he stands her up again and asks, "How does that floor look to you now?"

"I must clean it for you sir," she answers, trying to fight back an angry scream.

"Good girl, perhaps you are a quick study," he smiles dryly.

Jen walks back to the kitchen door, bucket in hand. As she enters, she takes a mop from the corner.

"No no," he says. "Down on your knees. I want your ass up so I can see it as you clean. Make sure you scrub it good too. All of it."

"I am really going to clean," Jen starts to think? "This is not why I came here." As she begins scrubbing the floor, she can feel his eyes upon her, staring at her breasts as they are being held captive by the undersized shirt. They jiggle with the rhythm of her brushstrokes, and she can feel their swaying from side to side. She turns to look at him, as his watching has begun to make her nervous. But as she looks, he is gone.

"Damn, he is really leaving me here to clean his damn house," she mutters. "This is not what I signed up for!" A tug on her hair makes Jen realize that he had returned.

"What did you say," he breathes in her ear? You don't like your job? Perhaps this will help improve your attitude."

A thick arm circles around Jen's waist, lifting her from the floor. It holds her tightly as the second hand reaches for her panties. She can feel the stitches straining to hold together as they start to slide down her hips. They stop below the fullest part of her hips, and a rattling sound can be heard from the bucket behind her. There is a cold wetness on her ass. A liquid is running between her ass cheeks now as his fingers trace the crevice, one by one until they begin circling her asshole.

"Oh my God," Jen thinks! "No, please don't," she begs!

Pressure becomes penetration as his finger forces itself inside her clenched asshole. In one firm push he has penetrated her to his last knuckle.

"Ooowwww, no please stop!!!"

"I'm not done with you yet," he says. The bucket rattles again and he produces an object which he waves in front of your face. "You are going to wear this butt plug until I say you are done today. Do you understand me?"

Seeing that the plug is fatter than his finger, Jen doesn't think she will be able to handle it. As he presses it against her tight opening, sheer panic takes over. Her hips instinctively wriggle to avoid the pain. She tries to spin in his grasp to prevent him from finding his target.

"Don't fight me you little bitch, or I will do you worse," he threatens. He manages to drag Jennifer to the hall carpet as her struggles continue. Then with one arm he swings her over in a wrestling maneuver, throwing her to the ground, knocking the wind out of her lungs. Face down, he pins her hands on her back as he sits on them. His weight makes is so difficult to breath. Jen can barely gasp out, "Please please, I don't think I want this. This is too much!!"

With a handful of hair, he says, "I told you, absolute obedience. Now shut the fuck up!"

Jennifer releases a guttural groan as the butt plug is forced insider her. He does not thrust it inside her so wildly, but there is no mistake in his intention that this is going all the way up her ass. His weight is raises off her back, allowing Jen to breathe freely again. She realizes that she had been holding her breath as it entered, and now her lungs are gasping for new air. She breathes in deeply to recover.

"Maybe this butt plug will remind you why you are here. You are here at my will; do you understand me now you little bitch? Get back to that floor!" Glancing over her shoulder, Jennifer can't even see the end of the plug any longer, but the tingling pain affirms to her that it is there. "Yes Sir," she says, trying to wiggle her hips in an effort to deal with the discomfort. Kneeling down, she does her best to return to cleaning the floor, but between the pain in her ass, and knowing he is watching, she cannot help feeling uncomfortable. "Will he get angry if I don't clean the floor well enough? Is he just looking at my ass in the air? He's probably thinking that I am flabby after seeing my ass cheeks shake when he spanked me." Jen turns again to look up at him again, only to see he has gone again. This only confirms to her that he was really only after a maid he can abuse. Growing slightly disheartened, she finishes her task and gathers the cleaning supplies. Standing again, the twinge of pain between her cheeks is a quick reminder that she still had the plug in place. Being on her knees seems to have lessened the pain somewhat and she had grown accustomed to its presence, no longer feeling the pain of its rude introduction.

Stepping into the hall, Jennifer heard his dark voice call out from the living room. "Have you completed your task," he asks? With arms weary from the scrubbing, she nods. "WHAT," he bellows, standing up from his chair quickly. Despite her fear of what is about to happen, she still notices that he has changed into a robe and what appear to be pajamas underneath. "I did not hear your answer?"

"Yes, yes, I am finished..... Sir!!"

"Why do I have to ask you things twice? You told me you were a fucking quick study, but you only seem to be a dumb fucking cunt!!"

"No Sir, no Sir, I will learn, I am not stupid!!"

He is upon her faster than she expected him to move. One hand grabs her throat tightly, pulling her closer, as the second hand wraps around to grab the end of the buttplug. Releasing her throat, he grabs a handful of hair, pulling her head backwards. Jen feels the plug move. It is pulled out several inches before being thrust back in again. Once, twice, three times he pounds it into her ass. She has nowhere to go but forward, pushing up against him as she tries to pull away from the thrusts. Jen's hands grab at his robe as she fights for her freedom from this torture.

"I think you are just a dumb cunt! But I will take the time to teach you proper respect and discipline."

"Pleeeaaasssseeeee.....," she cries, but her shrieks fall on deaf ears.

More thrusts and the burning is escalating. "Do you want to learn? Are you worthy of my teaching you," he asks?

Jennifer's mind is racing now. What is the right answer, she wonders? The pain and fear have her so confused that she isn't sure how to answer. Her first thought it to stop the pain and be free of his grasp, so she tells him what she thinks he wants to hear. "Please Sir, please. I don't mean to be disrespectful. I AM just a stupid cunt, but I can learn. Give me a chance. Please teach me to serve you properly, Sir."

Was it the tears in Jennifer's eyes, or perhaps the fear in her voice? She wasn't sure, but she could feel his grip ease. She almost collapses onto the floor as she had been standing on her toes thru this ordeal. Her knees ached from the hard kitchen floor, calf muscles strained from the struggle. That same strong arm that confined her earlier was now pulling her closer to prevent her falling. With her hands still upon his chest, she felt his strong chest muscles carved in the thousands of pushups done over the years. She looks up for the first time to get a good look at his face. He is a mature man, older than she, with a sprinkle of grey among the wavy brown locks. He is not a man she would immediately find attractive, but there is something in his eyes, despite the stern look on his face, that tell her he is not as hard as he seems.