The Cleaner

Olga Hemming listlessly entered through the servant's entrance of the next mansion, her third today. Just to make ends meet, she had to add this one to her list of places where she was hired as an assistant cleaner. The rather snooty butler showed her where the cleaning supplies were, and the head housekeeper took her in tow, showing her what needed to be done.

She was tired. This seemed to be her perpetual state of body these days. Tired when she got up, tired when she trudged from home to home, tired as she worked, tired when she went to bed. Her job did have a benefit, though. Wherever she was working at lunchtime, the staff included her in sharing the food. There was always plenty of it, and it was a lot more delicious than anything she could afford by herself. Those meals supplemented her income, in a way.

Also, when she was dusting or vacuuming, she couldn't help but admire the lovely furniture, draperies, fixtures and art, tastefully chosen by top interior designers for these homes. Occasionally, Olga even wondered if the serving maids were also chosen by those designers. They were certainly picturesque enough, in their outfits apparently designed to reveal almost as much as they concealed. Sometimes a maid would bend over as she dusted, and, depending on which direction the maid was facing, treat Olga either to a view of minute, frilly panties, or of two generous breasts threatening to pop out of her low-cut top with her next deep inhalation. Olga was especially susceptible to these events, because early on in her life she discovered that she was truly attracted to women, rather than men.

Therefore, Olga couldn't help but feel envious of the people that owned those mansions. "Those people seem to have everything that a person could want, and act as if they had some divine right to that lifestyle," she thought. "Why should they have all those lovely things, and have those beautiful women at their beck and call, day and night? Life seems so unfair, I could weep, if I had the strength."

One bright spot in her life was the weekly lottery drawing. Olga wasn't a stupid woman. As she bought her one extravagance each week - a single ticket to the MegaPowerball drawing, she acknowledged to herself, "I know the odds of winning the big jackpot are billions to one. But still, once in a while I win enough to buy a new article of clothing, or have a nice meal on my own. The tiny outlay is good for my self-esteem, overall. And my heart beats a little faster each time I watch the numbers being drawn on television."

And so her life continued. She didn't always clean the same three mansions. Sometimes one of them might not have work that week, but the owners knew how she depended on her work. Often, they were kind enough to have one of their friends give Olga some work. One particular home fascinated her. Its artwork. At first, it shocked and disgusted her, mainly because she'd never seen such images before. They weren't crystal clear photographs, at least not in the more public areas of the house. They were intricate paintings, depicting women that were naked and bound!

Olga had never heard of 'shibari' - the Japanese art of erotic bondage, and at first glance, she didn't like it. Seeing women trussed up resembling string being tied around a roast... well... it just looked obscene. She quickly averted her eyes. But the images kept lurking in her peripheral vision. Tormenting her at first. Then that turned into teasing. And finally, tantalizing. After all, the women in the images didn't look distressed. They actually looked serene! "Can they actually be enjoying that?" she asked herself. It gave her food for thought, at least.

When she had to do the bedrooms, she saw actual framed photographs on the wall. These women were also naked, but the poses were very different. Ropes were in use, but these ropes tied them to chairs, benches, and tables in ways that exposed their sex to view, implying sexual use. Some were wearing leather cuffs at their wrists and/or ankles and chains ran from the cuffs to wooden frames, crosses, or rings set in the wall. One woman was staring defiantly right into the camera and holding a leather strap or belt in her teeth. Olga shivered, because that expression conveyed 'you can use this on me, but you cannot make me beg for mercy' in a silent manner.

Since on all the images, Olga's eyes had been darting from the nude tits to asses to legs to pussies to the manner of the restraints, she hadn't been focused on their faces. This picture, though, demanded that she look hard at the woman's face. Her jaw dropped when she recognized that this woman was the downstairs maid, Francesca! She went back to the other pictures. The same woman appeared in a few, but so did the two women that worked in the kitchen! The few remaining pictures either didn't show the woman's face, or were women she didn't know.

When Olga left that house to start her walk home, her mind was reeling. She was still debating if the women were enjoying what was being done to them, or somehow coerced into it. The problem was, the more she brought those images to mind, the faster she breathed, and felt her heart beat quicken with what felt like arousal. About three quarters of the way home, she felt wetness on her inner thighs, and blushed, hoping no one would notice either that wetness, or the scent it carried.

When she got home, she stripped off her now sodden panties, intending to put on a dry pair. But somehow, her fingers ended up playing with her pussy lips! She couldn't stop there, either. After several minutes of caressing those gradually swelling lips, her naughty fingers slipped inside her pussy. She gasped out loud at how hot and wet she'd become! Keeping her fingers busy inside herself, she staggered to her bed, flopped onto her back, and drove herself to not one, but two, highly satisfying orgasms!

Afterward, she felt somewhat ashamed. "Am I some sort of pervert?" she whispered aloud, needing to hear the question. "Seeing those women tied up like that? Imagining how they might possibly have been used, if at all?" But even though she felt ashamed, she was also driven by some heretofore undiscovered need. After she got another small lottery win, heart pounding, she slipped into an adult book store and bought some magazines, plus a story book on bondage, since her interest was now piqued. She didn't make eye contact with the sales clerk as she paid, and was glad he put her purchases into a brown paper bag before she hurried from the store.

Once she was home, she devoured the pictures in the magazines, eyes huge as she studied the images. Suddenly, her life seemed less dreary, and she felt a lot less tired. She got out the story book. In it, several women were being tied up in ingenious, well-described ways, and having things done to their bodies that made Olga shiver, shudder, and hyperventilate. She could only read about one chapter an evening, because she'd get so worked up that she had to stop and play with herself until she sank into a deep sleep. Even her dreams became about bondage.

A week or two later, she had another small win in the lottery. She took the extra money into an Internet Cafe. She'd heard that people could rent the computers there for some time online. She sat there, a little perplexed on how to begin. A pleasant young woman, perhaps of college age, noticed her confusion, and came over.

"Hi, I'm Linda," she said, introducing herself. "Are you having trouble? Can I help?"

Olga felt silly, not knowing how to use this technology, but she was grateful for Linda's offer. "Hi, Linda. I'm Olga. And to be honest, I've never had a computer, so I don't know how to get information off the Internet."

"Oh, no worries. We all had a first time. It's rather simple," Linda told her. Patiently, she explained what a web browser was, and how to start one up. "Now right here we can enter a word or phrase that indicates what we're trying to find," she said, pointing at the screen. "What should we enter?"

"Umm... how about women's clothing, sort of the current styles," Olga replied, not feeling comfortable sharing information about what she really wanted.

"Sure. No problem," Linda assured her, typing in the words. She showed Olga how to just find images of clothes, and then went on to explain how to find links to websites about them.

Olga was a quick study, and soon was surfing on her own. She thanked Linda sincerely for her time and help, and then continued searching. She watched as Linda gathered up her purse, some books, and a light jacket and left the cafe. Glancing around to make sure no one was now paying attention to her, Olga entered a search word and began viewing some bondage images. Her palms sweated as she learned how freely available these pictures were.

Emboldened after a bit, she tried finding bondage websites. Some had free videos of people in action, which made her inhale sharply. Almost at once she had to hurriedly turn off the sounds of those videos, lest people wonder what was on her screen. All too soon, her rental time was over. She left the cafe with a damp skirt, and eyes that felt like they were bulging in their sockets.

This pattern of behavior - a small jackpot win, followed by time spent viewing erotica about bondage - might've become the norm of Olga's life. Except for one thing. She won it. She was sitting, clutching her ticket, watching her television during the MegaPowerball drawing. The first number that popped up was on her ticket. Then the next. And the next. Until... every number displayed on the screen was also on that ticket in her hand! She blinked. She checked again. It was true! She had won! And, as it turned out, she was the sole winner!

It took her several days to calm down and research what she should do. She made a copy of the ticket, securing the original in a safety deposit box that she rented. Next came careful discussions with an attorney, learning how she could remain anonymous, and an accountant, learning her options for paying taxes on her winnings. Finally, she presented her ticket to the lottery commission, and opted for the lump sum payment, which came to be the staggering amount of just over nine hundred million dollars!

More consultations with experts ensued, and a great deal of the money was invested, where it promptly went to work, earning her even more money. Now Olga could take a breath, and plan. First, she wanted a place all her own, surrounded by natural beauty, with a house that would be as lovely as the places she used to clean, but not so massive. Working with a real estate agent and a building contractor, they agreed on a location and a design. Work began.

Now Olga focused her attention on her personal beauty. Her body was already fit from those long hours of working, so she had her hair freshly styled, adding the auburn highlights that she'd always craved. A judicious application of electrolysis, a lovely collection of designer clothes, chosen for elegance and comfort, and new makeup completed her makeover.

As the house neared completion, she began interviewing potential staff - only females, of course. She hired Joanne as a part-time gardener, to keep the landscaping tidy in her large, walled yard. For a cook, Althea fit the bill nicely, although Olga decided that she'd only be needed three times a week, unless a dinner party was planned. Perhaps the most important position to fill was that of housekeeper. Olga wanted a combination of beauty and efficiency in such a person, since she'd probably be working four or five days every week.

On a whim, she decided that the applicants needed to be nude for their interview. She informed each woman of this fact before the interview officially started. Some of them, upon hearing this requirement, immediately walked out. That was fine with Olga, since they were obviously of the wrong mindset. Others looked a little shocked, but complied. Others stripped off as if they did this everyday. In addition to the discussion part of the interview, Olga also had each applicant get down on her hands and knees and scrub a small section of the floor with a bucket and brush. She walked around the scrubbing woman, admiring the way that her breasts swayed and her muscles rippled beneath her skin. Even if they weren't hired, the women didn't mind, because Olga paid them well just for taking part in this unusual interview process.

Several of the applicants were simply delightful, and hard workers, but Olga only needed one. In the end, she decided to hire Rita. There was something very appealing about her - her silken blonde hair that fell straight to her shoulders, her emerald green eyes, seductive smile, well shaped 36C breasts, trim waist, shapely legs, and impeccably pedicured feet - everything seemed perfect. And Rita even asked, "Will you want me to always do the housework in the buff, Madam?" No sound of hesitation or complaint in her voice. Just a simple inquiry, seeking facts.

"No, Rita," Olga answered. "Not all the time. I'll provide some uniforms for you. You can check with me if I'm here each time you start work, to see how I'd prefer you to be dressed or undressed on any given day." She paused, then added, "Oh, but if you're doing your housework naked, you may have to visit the kitchen at times when my cook, Althea, is working there. She'd be clothed, and you wouldn't be. Would that constitute a problem?"

Rita smiled. "Madam, if it won't bother her, it certainly won't bother me." She was offered the job, and accepted it.

So, Olga began her life in her new house. Rita performed her tasks like vacuuming, dusting, polishing and other chores. Althea prepared tasty meals, even setting aside some for leftovers on days she was scheduled. Joanne made the landscaping look like a pastoral dream. Olga wanted some artwork for her walls, so she paid a visit to the house where Francesca worked, so she could ask the owner where to find such pieces. While she was waiting there, she managed to ask Francesca to meet her at a cafe they both knew, during her time off.

The owner of the house was pleased to greet the newly rich, and therefore highly influential, Olga, and was all too happy to explain where such works of art were available. Elated, she went to the gallery suggested, and arranged for the delivery of several gorgeous pieces. The gallery owner almost fell over while kissing her hand effusively at such a generous purchase. Delivery and installation would be free of charge.

A few days later, Olga met Francesca at the cafe. Francesca was curious why Olga, the former house cleaner and now fabulously wealthy woman, wanted to meet with her. She thought that perhaps Olga needed a downstairs maid, and was looking to lure her to a new post. Over coffee, Olga delicately brought up the subject of the photographs she'd seen in the bedrooms of the house. As delicate as the opening had been, Francesca turned scarlet.

"Oh, Madam! I'm so ashamed," she hissed quietly.

"Francesca, there's nothing to be ashamed about. Those images were very erotic. Each time I think of them, my heart races with excitement."

"You don't think I'm a wretched slut, Madam?"

"Quite the contrary, Francesca. That image of you with the leather belt in your teeth was so compelling. I loved the expression on your face," Olga assured her quietly. "But I just thought of something. Were you forced to do those things? Was it against your will?"

"Oh no, Madam! There was no force involved. I love doing those things. They fill my needs, because, you see, I'm a submissive at heart. I love being dominated by the right person."

"Well, I confess that seeing those images opened up a new world for me," Olga stated. "It got me interested in bondage, so I've been looking more into it. Seeing women restrained like that, as long as they're enjoying it, touches some need in me that I never knew was there. Please tell me more about your experiences with it, if you will."

The two women leaned closer together, until their heads were almost touching. What followed was a whispered conversation wherein Francesca explained about leather cuffs vs, handcuffs, ropes vs. chains, floggers vs. crops, various devices, types of poses, and so on. Olga's twinkling eyes were wide open as she absorbed all this. Francesca was a gold mine of information. Olga was already making a mental list of things she'd need to buy and either build or have built.

Francesca then told Olga about a friend of hers, Leyla, another submissive, who'd recently lost her Master. Even though Leyla preferred to submit to men, Francesca was almost sure that she'd at least let Olga practice with her, so to speak. "She's on a short vacation now, but let me try to reach her by cell phone. One moment." She stepped outside the cafe for better reception, and some semblance of privacy.

Olga used the time to begin putting her potential purchases down on paper, along with places Francesca had recommended as sources. She even started some rough sketches of the basement 'playroom' she'd had built in her home. As a person descended the basement steps, the normal things were in sight, such as the furnace, laundry area, fuse box, and storage. But the rest of the basement, which was a sizable space, was walled off, and had a door leading into it that could be locked. Olga planned to install her bondage equipment in that private space.

Francesca returned, smiling. "She agreed, Madam. She knows you're new to all this, and promises to help you learn, as much as you permit. Please be advised that she's still seeking a male Dominant, but assures me that you'll have at least a month of her services, unless you dismiss her sooner."

Olga thanked Francesca profusely as they departed, and hurried home to begin ordering things. Over the next several days, Rita had to sign for many packages from different delivery companies. Most of them were small enough that Olga was able to take them down into the basement herself, and disappear into the locked room with them. But a couple of these packages were large cardboard boxes, sometimes called 'flat packs' that often contained do-it-yourself furniture. It took both women to lug these down the stairs into the basement. But Olga handled them after that, using a moving dolly.

Leyla appeared on Olga's doorstep on a Saturday morning when Olga had the house to herself, as they'd arranged. Leyla looked quite at ease, while Olga had butterflies dancing in her stomach since she'd never attempted to dominate anyone before. "Greetings, Miss Olga," the cute little redhead said. "May I come in?"

"Yes. Do come in," Olga answered.

"Should I strip and crawl in, Miss?" the young woman asked.

Olga felt her eyes bulge a little. "You'd do that? There, on my doorstep?"

"Of course, Miss. If you commanded it."

Olga felt her palms starting to sweat. "That won't be necessary. This time, at least. Come in, and I'll show you the room I'm working on." They both went down to the basement room. Olga unlocked it, and they entered. She watched Leyla's expression as the submissive saw the room for the first time. "I've only begun to furnish it," she reminded Leyla.

"Oh, it's a lovely room, Miss," the redhead assured her. "Well lit, with nice, smooth laminated wood floors. A seat for you, the Dominant, with a cushion on the floor near it. The seat looks roomy enough for aftercare. That's a great cabinet for storage, and I see that so far you have a bondage cross and also an overhead pulley system for suspension. A fantastic start, Miss!"

Olga felt that perhaps Leyla was flattering her, but it still felt good to hear that she was on the right track. "Speaking of starts, Leyla, I want to ask. Since you're only here with me temporarily, does it sound reasonable for me to ask your advice as we proceed?"

"Of course, Miss. You can order me to help you," Leyla answered with an impish grin. "Shall I take it that you gave such an order?" Olga folded her arms and nodded, keeping a straight face. "Very well, Miss. It would probably be best if you ordered me to strip completely, and then stand for inspection of my body."