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My Housekeeper
Date: 9/19/2023, Categories: Fetish, Author: byrandymarkus
... would remain the same as always. She seemed most touched. She veered off into the realm of the personal. She asked about my wife, how long she'd been gone, how I'm dealing with being a widower. She told me if I ever needed anything that I shouldn't hesitate to ask for help. This time she had a top with buttons and as we visited I noticed that she was surreptitiously and oh so subtly undoing one button after another, working her way down, deliberately. It was not my imagination. She gesticulated normally as we spoke, moving her hands and arms about, and gave me some fantastic views. It was I who was most appreciative. And it was I who was developing a potent, fetishistic attraction to my housekeeper. It was she who was encouraging me. It was she who was in the driver's seat. The weeks went on. We became ever more comfortable in each other's company. She put on no airs, cussed like a sailor and told dirty jokes like a guy with his buddies in a bar. The holiday season arrived and I gave her a big bonus - three times regular pay. She seemed truly grateful and enormously appreciative. But something else happened as well. The built-in drawers off the dining area were filled with linens, place mats, aprons, surplus vitamins, even Covid-19 test kits. It was disorganized. While searching for something I realized what a mess it was. I asked Rita if she could check out drawers and organize them. I did not remember something hidden away at the bottom of one. It was an apron ...
... upon which was emblazoned the word "slave." Probably from twenty years prior. Rita straightened up the drawers all right. She also left, carefully folded in one of them, the slave apron on top of everything. And the logo "slave" was clearly and prominently displayed. The gesture struck me to the core. Her awareness of such an accoutrement drove me crazy. It's all I could think about. Then I began reminiscing about my Domme/sub activities with my deceased spouse. I really and truly, deeply missed the thrills of a submissive relationship. I yearned for the domination of a strong woman. I realized how this desire was a fundamental part of me. To obey a domineering woman was a yearning that had not been satiated in a very long time. And this down blouse teasing, and now the almost certainly deliberate staging of a "slave" apron, ignited my libido like lighter fluid on a bed of coals. Hell, I even masturbated immediately after Rita left, fantasizing not just about those gorgeous breasts, those nipples that were tantalizingly close but just beyond view. I also fantasized what it would feel like if she stood over me and ordered me to obey her commands. And how I would eagerly comply. My obsession stewed. I was preoccupied with these musings when I placed, on the table in the music room, in full view, a paperback that my wife and I had consulted years earlier, a book entitled "Mistress Guide: An Introduction to Female Domination and Male Submission." I succumbed to my obsession. I ...