My Housekeeper

"Inescapable wrist restraints are a must. They place him in your custody. Some like actual police handcuffs. Others prefer Velcro. Secured behind his back is most effective. Semi-permanent restraints on your bed are handy and appropriate."

"Immobilize your sub, either with ropes or restraints. You could leave him like that for a while. Or, you might cuddle with him while he's all tied up. He'll begin to yearn for bondage. It's classical conditioning."

"To celebrate your sub's surrender, use some nipple clamps on him. Only someone who had totally surrendered to you would let you do this to him."

"Make your sub confirm his dedication by telling you he'll do anything you order him to do...and then test the limits of his obedience. Being a little edgy will keep him on edge, which is good."

"When testing the limits of his obedience, feel free to make stuff up. Even if you'd never have him do it, tell him you might make him kiss your shoes in public. Or you might make him fluff your boyfriend before he has intercourse with you and then make him bury his face between your legs to clean up the cream pie. You can taunt him with THREATS of doing it. Or...for the truly committed, you can turn him into your total cuckold and actually follow through."

"Hmmm..." she purred. "Provocative."

"Keep your sub horny. Some tease and denial make for powerful aphrodisiacs. Take control of his orgasms. He'll enjoy one so much more when, and only if, you allow it."

"Take advantage of your slave's servitude. Enjoy foot rubs, leg rubs, neck rubs, back rubs and overall massages. It is a slave's job to spoil his Mistress. It's your privilege to be spoiled."

"Your sub might look forward to some spanking or flogging more than you can imagine. Build up an extensive collection of these implements. You might administer some corporal punishment for some shortcoming. Or you might do it just because you feel like it! Mistresses can do that!"

"Worship is a must. Make him pay tribute by using his lips and tongue. Foot worship. Pussy worship. Lots of pussy worship. Full body worship. Demand it of him. Your sensual and sexual pleasure is paramount."

"If your sub is too talkative, a ball gag is useful. You can have conversations with him while he's wearing the gag. Of course, what he says with be unintelligible, but that can be part of the fun."

She interjected a comment - "Oh...this was the title of a whole chapter: 'Maid to Obey / Made to Command.' This was an interesting chapter. Right up our alley, eh?" Mistress Rita asked. Then she continued reading out loud.

"Have your sub carry out chores for you. House cleaning, fetching, cooking, serving. When you make your sub do house chores it reinforces the pecking order in your home. Hold him to a high standard. And when his work is less than perfect (which it will always be), it opens the door for correction, using corporal punishment. Or reward, for exemplary performance."

"A little humiliation is a valuable tool. Nothing establishes your authority and humiliates a man like being forced to cross-dress. Cheap outfits rule. And, if you really turn him into your little sissy, perhaps a strap-on is in order!"

Mistress Rita was lightly pinching one of her nipples when she finished reading. She looked up at me seductively. During her reading she'd never exposed her nipples or an entire breast. We were both breathing a little heavily. She let the moment settle with no comment or communication.

Finally, she set the list of suggestions aside and wiggled her way to the edge of the bed and then to a standing position.

"Time's up," she said. Sure enough, I checked the clock on the nightstand and we were right at the two hour mark. "Here's the deal," she explained. "However, much time you save me in housework, the more time we have to play. Either way, I'm here for two hours."

And with that, she left.

I anticipated her next arrival. I calculated that if I cleaned the entire upstairs before she came, she'd have only the downstairs to work on. She could probably do that in under an hour. That would leave us about an hour for "extracurricular activities." I also took time to trim my pubic hair and make my cock and balls as smooth and hairless as I could. I hoped she'd notice. I realized how much I sought to please her. How I yearned to be guided by a pointing finger and the sneer of cold command.

I worked my ass off, beginning the night before housekeeping day. I paid special attention to the kitchen and bathroom. She arrived while I was reading the news on my tablet at the kitchen table. She let herself in and announced that she'd arrived. "Up here," I called. And she made her way to meet me.

"Well, wanker, what have you done that I don't have to worry about?" she inquired.

"I've cleaned the whole upstairs," I announced proudly.

"Let's see," she said and began an inspection tour of each room.

She remained silent throughout. Appeared to be taking mental notes.

"I'll call you to join me downstairs when I've finished cleaning," she announced abruptly and hustled down the stairs.

True to her word, in about an hour I heard her call. "Wanker! Come join me."

I found her lounging in the recliner, in the recreation room. The gas fireplace was roaring. She appeared quite comfortable.

"Don't you just love a clean house?" she asked.

"Yes, I sure do. And this looks great!" I added, gesturing toward the expanse of the room that she'd been working on.

"Okay, wanker. Go fetch your collar and your leash, my riding crop, a fresh towel and a ping pong paddle."

Nervous that I might forget something, I complied with alacrity. I took special notice that she referred to the riding crop as HERS. I was back in just a couple minutes with her requests.

"Take off your clothes. Put on your collar and hand me the leash."

Again, I proceeded with eagerness. I was getting used to this. She pulled the leash taut.

"Looks like you're my maid. Tell me."

"I'm your maid, Mistress Rita."

"Yes you are. And there was dust on the TV and computer screens upstairs. There was a countertop stain by the toaster. And the dish towels on the refrigerator door were old, dirty and needed washing. Now ask if you can kneel."

"May I kneel for you, Mistress Rita?"

"Yes, you may. And you've earned thirty whacks on your butt cheeks, with the paddle, for not being thorough in your cleaning. Fifteen on each cheek. You do the paddling. Count out loud. Go!"

I wasted no time. I smacked my own butt cheek. "One!" Whack! "Two!" Whack. On I went, and not with pansy little smacks. I wanted her to hear the loud cracks. I did five on one cheek then switched to the other one for another five. Then back to the original for "Six!" Whack. "Seven!" Whack. And on, until I hit fifteen on each side. I was quite sure my bum was rosy. It stung.

"Good job. Now give me a foot rub, wanker."

She pushed the recliner back and extended her feet onto the attached ottoman. I crouched down and proceeded to give her the most attentive and sensual foot rub I could muster. Her eyes fluttered and then shut. I massaged my heart out. After a while she spoke.

"Kiss my feet while you rub them."

I complied eagerly, happily. After a bit she interjected.

"You're my wanker. Tell me that you are." she instructed.

"I'm your wanker," I volunteered quickly, as I puckered my lips onto the sole of her foot.

"You're my wanker and you're obsessed with my tits, aren't you?"

"I'm your wanker, Mistress Rita. And I'm in love with your tits."

"You know, I knew from the time I went in your office, and you had that video playing. Some British actress showing off her tits, one inch at a time, telling the perv watching to jerk off for her. And I realized, there you were, jerking off while I cleaned your house. Thinking of tits. Well, now I'm going to relax and tease you with my tits. And you're going to jerk off for me. Because you're my wanker now. MY wanker! And you'll always do what I say. Now beg me for the privilege of jerking off while I show you my tits."

"Please, Mistress Rita. Will you show me your tits and let me jerk off?" This was my fucking dream come true.

"Put the towel down in front of you. We don't want to make a mess for the housekeeper. The only things you're allowed to look at while you masturbate are my eyes and my tits. Start jerking, wanker!"

And with that command I commenced on my task. She began displaying her breasts in the most imaginative ways, squeezing them, pulling them, tightening her top, pulling it up from its hem, rubbing her nipples. Giving me only fleeting glances of her nipples, mere fractions of seconds. The forbidden fruit. She reminded me that I didn't deserve to see them. All while she urged me on, to rub my cock faster, slower, to squeeze my balls, to tease the head. Gawd, she was good. As good as any professional triple X video actress you can find. I should know. I had watched plenty.

She sensed when I was getting close to my orgasm. My breathing became heavy and I started shaking. She prompted me on. "Cum for me, wanger. You're my slave boy. My property. Tell me, who owns you?"

"You own me, Mistress Rita. You own me!" I bellowed. "I'm cumming for you! I'm worshiping your tits. I'm paying tribute to YOU!"

"You should. And you are so privileged to be able to jerk off for me. Now cum for me, slave. Cum for me, wanker. Cum for your Mistress and thank me!"

"Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!" I yelled I know not how many times. Maybe dozens, as the spasms of ejaculation sent shivers through my body. An out-of-world experience, as I still stared, mesmerized, by those magnificent breasts. And, alternately, those penetrating, commanding eyes. Totally immersed in my obedience to this Goddess. Drunk with passion for her. Hungry for servitude to her.

And that almost marked the end of that visit. Except that she added a twist. Before she left she handed me a small, nicely wrapped package that had been stashed discretely in her cleaning supplies.

"Wait until I'm gone to open it," she told me.

As soon as she was out the door I tore away all the nice wrapping paper. A note on top said, "You will wear this whenever you houseclean for me." It was a maid's outfit, one of the cheap outfits you can buy as a quick Halloween costume for $19.95. Black with a tiny white apron in front. Ties around the neck and waist.

I didn't know how to react. Spontaneously, I was excited to receive such an intimate gift...and a directive. But as I thought of actually wearing it while I did housework, my resistance kicked in. No fucking way, I thought. Then again, it wasn't a suggestion. It was a command. From my Mistress. And I always obey my Mistress.

I made my way to the downstairs bedroom, threw off my bathrobe (which I'd put on after our masturbation session) and worked my way into the silly little costume. I thanked gawd it was an extra-large. It actually fit. Sleeveless, of course, it left my chest bare down to just above my nipples and it had an extremely short hemline. So short that my cock hung out below it. "My, oh my," I remember thinking. "Am I really going to wear this damn thing to clean my own house?"

The answer was yes. Subsequent visits entailed me presenting myself in maid regalia, after I'd done a whole lot of cleaning, leaving very little more for Rita to do. After all, I yearned to maximize the time we had to play our Domme/sub games. And my maid outfit turned out to add a good deal of zesty kink to our role playing. And provided a context in which Rita explored most all of the transcribed passages I'd presented to her. To say we experimented doesn't capture the variety of escapades she created. In every sense, she was a most extraordinary Dominatrix / Domme. She played me like a concert violinist plays a fiddle, with familiarity, mastery and passion...and she was oh so very, very naughty. I realized that I was extremely fond of her as my housekeeper. I adored her as my Mistress.

On her second to the last visit (and yes, this relationship does have an end) she pulled out most (but not all) of the stops. I'd cleaned extensively, anticipating her visit. The only chore left undone was vacuuming downstairs.

I greeted her in my outfit and even did a ludicrous curtsy for her. She surveyed the place, complimented me on my attention to detail but chastised me for not vacuuming the downstairs carpets. She sat on the recliner in the recreation room, where I'd first masturbated for her.

She told me to fetch a cock ring and her riding crop. "On all fours," she commanded. I crawled out and returned on all fours with the cock ring and riding crop. She had me kneel, hands behind my head, and fitted the cock ring around my cock and balls and snapped it shut. It was snug. A hard-on ensued. Then she had me lean over an ottoman and pull up my skirt. She administered many whacks on my bottom with the riding crop. I lost count of how many. She continued until it stung. I'm sure my cheeks were red.

"Now finish the vacuuming and meet me in the bedroom when you're done."

I scurried about in my little maid's uniform, carefully vacuuming all the carpeted downstairs rooms. I put the vacuum away and then crawled into the bedroom on all fours. She was leaning back in a fortress of pillows.

She made me lie down on my back, smack in the middle of the queen-size bed. Several sessions ago she'd instructed me to leave wrist and ankle restraints tethered to the corners of the bed, for quick use. She had me stretch my arms and legs to the four corners, Velcroed them taut and then she stood back to admire how she'd incapacitated the spread-eagled man in the maid's uniform.

She removed my cock ring. She removed her shorts but stayed on top of me. She straddled my head, her knees over my shoulders, her pussy over my mouth. "Ask me if you can worship my pussy."

"Please, Mistress Rita, may I worship you pussy."

"Yes, you may, you wanker!" And with that she undulated her hips and wiped her exquisitely trimmed, warm, moist pussy over my mouth. It was as though she was fucking my mouth. She instructed me every step of the way. Softer, faster, deeper, slower. "Use your whole tongue." Then, "Just my clit - suck on it." Then, "Lick the entire length, hard." Then, "Fast! Flutter your tongue." Then, "Fuck my hole with your tongue. Harder. Deeper." We went on like this for some time. My jaws and tongue were tiring.

Then she moved down, toward my feet, so that she faced me and straddled either side of my torso. She pulled off her top and buried the pillows of her breasts onto my face. I'd barely seen her nipples up to that point. They were fucking perfect (and I realize this is a matter of preference). Smallish and well-defined little nubs. Perky. Hard. I kissed them and licked them hungrily.

She then leaned to each side of me and released my arms from their restraints. She moved down my torso, placing her loins directly over mine. She took hold of my erect penis and rubbed it against her wet pussy. She circled the head around her hole and then little by little inserted it. A fraction of an inch at a time. Then, all at once, she engulfed it. Its entire length. We both let out a small gasp. Simultaneously she took hold of my hands and placed them on her breasts. "They're yours," she whispered in a sultry voice. And then began grinding into my cock.

She fucked me in the most heavenly ways. Gawd, was she good. The perfect amount of friction, a slippery, wet receptacle, alternating from burying my cock to the hilt to shallow penetration of the head only, long slow strokes and then revving up to 6000 rpms. It was, without a doubt, the most skillful fucking I'd ever engaged in. I squeezed and rubbed her glorious breasts. I lightly twisted her nipples between my thumb and index finger. Other than that, she was in total control.

She worked me into a frenzy. I mean, I was hyperventilating, staring at and squeezing those million-dollar tits and hanging on for dear life. She decided to finish me off, in a piston-like fervor and made me cum deep inside of her, riding the entire length of my shaft, from the head to the hilt. I quivered, ejaculated my seed and ascended from the material world, becoming one with the ethereal realm of sexual fulfillment.

Gradually, I returned to the moment. She dismounted me and lay beside me.

"Tell me you'll do anything I tell you to do," she said, familiarly.

"I will do any and everything you tell me to do. You are unbelievable. The best lover I've had in my life."

"Good," she said. And she climbed back on my chest, straddling my face again between her thighs and rubbing her well-used pussy over my mouth. "Lick me, slave boy. Clean me up, wanker," she ordered. "Tell me how much you love it. Tell me you're my cum-eater." And what may have turned me off instead turned into a heartfelt compliance. I dove into the task with zeal.

Two weeks later, so enamored was I with her last visit, I prepped the entire house. I started housekeeping the day before and was quite sure it was up to snuff. The entire time I cleaned I wore my maid outfit.

She entered using her key, no knock or doorbell. I was waiting for her, in uniform. She closed and locked the door behind her. She approached me and wrapped one arm around my waist, one around my neck. She kissed me lovingly and then reached under my skirt and began giving my bare genitals a massage. She made me hard right away. I hadn't cum since her last visit.

"There is one of your fantasies that we haven't explored. But first, you have to tell me that you'll do anything I tell you to do. And mean it. Really mean it."

Her continued insistence on getting me to commit to anything raised some danger flags. But I was all in. Committed. Devoted. Obedient. Compliant. Eager to please. I took pride in being an exemplary sub.

And my Mistress was fucking awesome! I trusted her so much that I WOULD do anything she'd demand.

"Mistress Rita, I'll do anything you tell me to do."

She led the way downstairs. I was still in my work outfit. Curiously, she had me sit on the floor at the foot of the bed, facing away from the bed. She had me extend my arms and used the Velcro restraints usually reserved for my ankles to cinch up my wrists. They were quite snug. I trusted her.

"Tell me again, that you'll do anything I tell you."

"You know you own me, Mistress Rita. I'll do anything you say. I won't let you down."

She went to the closet and pulled out the suitcase. She rummaged and found a blindfold. And a pixie cut lady's wig from years gone by. (My wife used to wear it when we role played. She'd assume another persona.) She pulled the wig over my head, brushed the wayward hairs away from my face and fussed with the fit. She then wrapped the blindfold skillfully around my head and secured it, turning my world dark. Then she knelt in front of me. She engaged in some kissing. She fondled my cock and balls. She gave me a renewed boner.

Then there was a loud series of knocks at the front door. She left, without a word. There was some commotion that I couldn't decipher. Multiple steps on the stairs. She returned. Though I couldn't see I sensed the presence of someone else. Someone hopped on the bed behind me. I could smell her. It was Mistress Rita, her head next to mine. She whispered in my ear.

"Paul and I have this thing. We have sex at every house I clean. It's your turn."

I sensed that the other body, standing in front of me, was undressing.

"You're going to fluff my boyfriend and get him ready to fuck me on your bed. And you're going to do a great job. Think of the best blow jobs you've ever seen in your porn videos. Do that. And make me proud. Do you understand?"

I panicked. I could feel the flush of blood through my entire body. Reluctance. No. More than reluctance. Refusal. My initial reaction was to call this whole thing off. I've been a heterosexual my entire life. Guys and their cocks never did it for me. A chick with a strap-on was one thing. But I'd never done the gay or bi thing. I realized that Rita wasn't asking.