My Housekeeper - Sex Stories

My Housekeeper

... swallowed hard she followed up before I could answer, "Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"Good," she replied, and nothing else. She turned and left.

I was so excited by this turn of events. I literally ran downstairs. TheMistress Guide was gone. Rita had taken it with her. She'd filled in the date of checkout and printed her name on the "Borrower's Name" line. I fantasized about her reading it. "Unbelievable! She's going to see all those highlighted fantasies of mine," I said aloud. I wondered how she'd take it all. I wondered if I'd gone too far. I wondered if it was something she'd keep from her boyfriend or if it would become pillow talk. She did tell me theirs was an open relationship. Wonder, wonder, wonder.

My heart pounded. I was astonished by the unfolding of events. Here we'd never explicitly spoken about any of this, yet it felt as though we were indulging in a clandestine, kinky affair. Or, perhaps, embarking on one.

The very next thing I did was to follow her parting instructions. I threw the used rags into the washing machine. And as they agitated, I pulled out the box of vacuum cleaner equipment and changed the bags on both machines (one for upstairs and one for downstairs). And on the shopping list, on a refrigerator magnet, I wrote, "Mr. Clean Magic Eraser and Soft & Scrub." I realized how fulfilling it was to obey Rita's directives. And all the while I fantasized about what might be. I recalled being ordered to shovel some light snow all those years ...

... ago.

When Rita showed up for her next visit, I greeted her at the door. (That wasn't always the case. She had a key and regularly let herself in at the assigned time.) I reminded myself that she'd had two weeks to read all the highlighted femdom passages. I expected some different behaviors from her. She didn't disappoint. She initiated the conversation. No small talk.

"Did you change the vacuum bags?"

"Yes, I did."

"Did you get a new box of Mr. Clean pads?"

"Yes, I did that too."

"The Soft and Scrub?"

"As you instructed me." And then, slipping into my role, I added, "I'll always do what you say!"

"I know you will," she added promptly, deadpan and stern look. "And did you wash all the cleaning rags."

"Yes."

"Good boy. You did well. Now go downstairs while I start in the office. When I'm done you can come back up and close yourself in." This was the customary arrangement which we'd normalized long ago. But to hear it from her lips, as an edict, was exciting.

I went downstairs and fell onto the bed. As I lay there, I glanced in the closet. And noticed the suitcase full of goodies from bygone times - the kinky sex toys accumulated over years of play. Without thinking, I pounced on an idea.

I sprinted to the music room and wrote on a pad:

"Something that might interest you. I invite you to open up a gold mine of possibilities. There is a suitcase in the bedroom closet filled with accessories. Please feel free to explore the contents inside. ...