My Housekeeper - Sex Stories

My Housekeeper

... sub at heart. And when I did her bidding, she'd reward me. After cleaning the bathrooms and changing the beds with fresh sheets, she might (if everything passed her close inspection) tell me I did a good job. Then tell me to drop my pants and kneel before her. Then give me a delicious cock and ball massage. Not enough to make me cum. But more than enough to make me desperately horny and eager to please her later that evening, after she'd had a couple glasses of wine and was in the mood herself. In an immaculately clean house and under fresh sheets.

This state of affairs endured and evolved for the duration of our marriage. The Domme/sub relationship especially deepened. Out of the blue, she'd order me to do something - fetch her a glass of wine, clean the mirrors in the bathroom, do the dishes, shovel snow off the sidewalks. (I recall, on one occasion, snow had accumulated to a mere dusting of maybe half an inch. In the cozy indoors I was glued to a great football game; a contest with playoff implications. She interrupted my fixation. "Go shovel - NOW!" she ordered. She exuded great satisfaction in issuing the command. She grinned as I put on my coat and gloves and exited out the door.) For these tasks she'd reward me with sexual favors that kept me hungry for more orders. She trained me well. She'd understood my submissive nature and then mastered the art of Pavlovian conditioning with me. And she was very good at sex. (As pissed as I was about the football game ...

... interruption, I was lavishly rewarded for my snow-shoveling.)

A common reward was making me kneel in front of her (or lie on my back) and masturbate for her while she fluttered her tongue over my nipples and make me repeat that I was her slave and swear that I'd do anything she'd tell me to do. Often, she'd then whisper in my ear, predictably, "I'm not going to let you cum." Then she'd make me pull up my trousers and we'd resume our normal routines. She told me that her teasing and denial kept me responsive and horny. She was right. And, at the end of the day, so to speak, her rewards were generous. Intoxicatingly wonderful. She was a fucking great dominatrix. (Those stories I can share elsewhere.)

This dynamic went on for years. And we delved deeper and deeper into a kinky Domme/sub relationship. We kept a sizeable suitcase full of fetish gear. Lots of leashes, blindfolds, all kinds of restraints, cock rings, gags, floggers and paddles, nipple clamps, vibrators, dildoes and strap-ons. Quite an assortment of toys. And extraordinary fun.

At some point, as much as I relished the kink, I realized that keeping up with her Saturday household expectations was becoming burdensome.

Alas, after some uncharacteristic nagging from me, we hired a housekeeper who came in twice a month. She was a single, elderly lady, Maureen. An eccentric soul who performed an adequate but less than stellar job of cleaning house. Painfully slow. Still, though not rising to my wife's standards, it ...