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Cleaning Up

“So, you will require a cleaning once every two weeks, including the living room, dining room, kitchen, stairs, hallway and bathroom, correct?”

“Yes”, he said, “that is what I would prefer.”

“And my rate is OK with you?”, she asked.

“Yes, but I would expect to pay more for the first cleaning because of the extra work involved”, he said.

“I didn’t ask for that.”

“I know, but it seemed fair to me.”

She pondered this for a while. Waves of emotion seemed to capture her, and she seemed to be about to speak several times. Eventually, she did speak. “That is generous and speaks well of you”, she said, “but no such additional payment is required. I quote my rates on the back of my experience, and I get significant satisfaction from my work.”

He smiled. It seemed that it was his turn to ponder. After a long moment, he said, “That interests me. What would you say is the source of your satisfaction? What is it about this work that you find satisfying?”

She looked at him for a while, trying to evaluate something in his face or his behavior or, well, something. It seemed that she came to a decision. “I get pleasure, visceral pleasure, from the act of doing filthy and menial tasks for you, or for anyone, but more for someone like you. It is viscerally pleasurable to clean your toilet”, she said.

His smile broadened. “I think that I understand”, he said, “For me this is a utilitarian action with no resonance beyond its obvious, literal value, but for you it has an entirely different, very different meaning, a visceral one and one with perhaps”, he paused, “a certain intimacy.”

She considered her words, then said only, “Yes.”

“Then in that spirit, in the spirit of utilitarian actions that have a deeper, more visceral intimate meaning to the one who takes them, I have a question”, he said. He was hesitating.

“Yes?”, she said.

“In the spirit of such actions that are only meaningful to one of the people involved, would you like me to rub your feet?”, he asked.

“I think you would like you to rub my feet”, she said. She leaned forward and began unlacing her shoe. “So would I”, she said.


They had gotten into a routine. He worked from home on most days that she came to the house to clean. Every two weeks she would arrive and do the work that she would normally do for anyone. She would collect the money that he left for her in the usual place, always impersonal as if to make it clear that it was only about the cleaning service and not what would happen next. And then she would knock quietly and they would sit together.

She learned that he preferred to take her shoes and socks off himself, so she always allowed him to do that. And he would work on her tired feet with his surprisingly strong thumbs and fingers and she would enjoy it.

They usually talked, mostly about work, her telling him cleaning stories and he telling her about the office. But the topic varied and occasionally skimmed the surface of what was unspoken. She would occasionally hint at the pleasure that she took in certain acts of service. And he would make known that he was greatly enjoying the activity that they were involved in.

One day during one of these conversations, she referred to him, casually, as a “foot boy”. She could see by the transformation of his expression that she should not have said that. He had seemed so happy, pressing his thumbs into her instep and chatting a moment before. But, upon hearing those words his hands froze and he looked, not quite angry, but definitely upset.

“Should I have not called you that? I don’t understand. I don’t know what else to call you”, she said.

He seemed to be trying to calm himself, as if there were very harsh words that he was trying to not say.

When he spoke, it was measured and calm, but icy. “Foot boy implies submission, and a submissive. That is not what I am doing and if you think it is, and that that is what I am, then we should stop.”

She searched frantically for words, not knowing how to respond. Her foot was in his lap, and each of them seemed frozen, waiting for someone to say something.

Eventually she spoke, very slowly. “I don’t think that. I really wasn’t thinking anything. It didn’t occur to me that what I said could be taken that way, but I see how it could be”, she paused, “would be. I did not realize that submission was even something you thought about and I meant nothing by it and no offense”, she seemed to be deciding on a word, “and I apologize, Sir.”

That word surprised him, but it seemed to have its desired effect, and his face relaxed. He put his hands back on her feet, but he didn’t rub them, he just held them, lightly, one in each hand.

Sirs who like women’s feet are, perhaps, not the most common”, he said, “but we are not unheard of. I should not have had that reaction, it was harsh. I suppose that I might have issues that need work.”

She was quiet for a moment. She seemed to be seeing him in a different light, and considering what to say.

“It was wrong of me to say, and I can understand why your reaction would be harsh. Honestly, I think that you would be within your rights to have a harsher reaction. I think that that merits a spanking”, she said. She smiled. “Do you know of anyone who gives spankings?”, she asked.

“I think that I can help with that”, he said.


They were standing next to his bed, looking at some implements. There was a wooden rod and two paddles, and a riding crop, something that looked like a loop of leather with a handle, and a leather slapping thing of some kind, or maybe it was rubber, it was difficult to tell. He had had more implements but they did not quite follow the definition of “spanking”, so they had not been offered.

“Which of these may I use on you?”, he asked.

She was surprised by the question for a moment, then remembered that, even in this different perspective, he was the considerate man that she had been familiar with.

“You may choose whatever you like”, she said. She picked up one of the paddles and considered. “Which is your favorite?”, she asked.

“My favorite”, he said, “is my hand. I like to use that more than any of these.”

“Please give me any kind of spanking you think is correct for the offense”, she said, then added, “and any further offense you may have suffered at any time.”

“Well”, he said, “there is a specific spanking for very bad girls, but that is beyond what I think you are agreeing to.”

“I mean any kind of spanking you would like to give me”, she said.

“Any kind?”


He had been standing the standard, polite distance from her, but he stepped closer and looked directly up into her eyes. After a very long silence, he said, calmly, quietly, “take your clothes off.”

“All of them?”


She inhaled sharply, and stood for a few seconds with her eyes shut, then took a step back. She turned her head, searching the room, then seemed to find a spot that she liked and walked over to it, then turned and faced him.

“Will this give you a pleasing view while I undress, Sir?”, she asked.

He smiled. “That will do nicely”, he said.

She pulled off her shirt. It was her work shirt, and, she had been working in it all day. It didn’t feel right to put it on the bed. After a moment’s consideration, she dropped it on the floor and continued. She slid her bra straps off her shoulders and reached behind to unhook it.

Just for a moment, she considered what she was doing. She cleaned his house and he rubbed her feet and they talked, and that was all that she knew about him. And he had just ordered her to take her clothes off and she was obeying. And, she realized, she couldn’t wait to be naked for him.

She unhooked the bra and dropped it next to the shirt. His face showed her everything that she needed. Sir liked her body quite a bit. She almost took off her pants and her panties at the same time, but it occurred to her that he would probably enjoy it more if she didn’t, so she took her pants off deliberately and then paused for a moment. She reached down to the waistband of her panties and paused again. And then, very slowly, she slid them down to the floor, and stepped out of them.

She stood up, and enjoyed him drinking in her nakedness. She was standing in front of him, naked, waiting for his orders, this man whom she knew almost nothing about. Waiting for a spanking.

This day was working out to be excellent.

He stepped forward and stood close. “Hands behind your back. Feet shoulder width”, he said. As she moved to comply with his orders he stroked her cheek with his hand, then said, “You have been very bad. Do you know what you have done?”

“Yes, Sir”, she said.

“Are you sorry for what you did?”, he asked.

“Yes, Sir, very sorry”, she said.

“What happens to bad girls who do what you did?”

“A spanking”, she said.

He reached up and held her chin in his hand. “Say, ‘I have been a bad girl and I should have a spanking’.” His eyes were fixed on hers.

She was giddy as she said the words. “I am a bad girl and I should have a spanking”, she said, with quite a bit of emphasis on the word spanking.

He seemed very happy with that. “Walk over to the wall and turn around to face it. Lean forward and put your hands on the wall. Spread your feet and bend  your neck forward”, he said.

In a moment, she was leaning with her hands on the wall. She was making an effort to spread her feet extra far and stick her ass out even further. She bent her neck forward and closed her eyes.

She could hear him walking behind her, then she felt something on her shoulder. The riding crop, she realized. He was tapping gently on her shoulders and she realized he was telling her to lower them. When she did that she felt a tap inside her thigh, not quite high enough to be near any sensitive areas, but close enough to be exciting. He was expecting her to spread her feet a bit more, and she did.

He walked back, then came close again. “Say, ‘I am a bad girl and I am very sorry’.”

“I am a very bad girl, and I am very, very sorry”, she said.

The riding crop came down with a sharp smack on her ass.

“Say it again”, he said.

As she was saying the words, he began spanking her with the riding crop. It was light at first, lighter than she would like, but the intensity built. Every so often he would tell her to say she was a bad girl, or tell her to say she earned her spanking. Sometimes he would stop and correct her posture with a touch of the riding crop, then continue.

After a while he stopped for a moment. She heard him walk away, then back.

The wooden rod. It stung. He was spanking her lightly again but it hurt more. She recoiled a little, but he tapped her with the rod and she repositioned herself. The rod also built in intensity and stung more and more.

Then he stopped. She felt a hand on her shoulder, and then, very lightly, a hand gently stroking the sore skin of her ass. He seemed to be caressing the areas that got the most punishment and she loved the feeling of it. He kept doing that for a few minutes, then gave her ass a very gentle slap and said, “Stand.”

She realized that the position that she had been very uncomfortable and her shoulders had begun to hurt. She stood, as he had ordered.

“Climb on the bed and get on your hands and knees”, he said.

She hurried to comply, and positioned herself to expose her ass, but also to give him an excellent view of some nearby areas that he might like.

She could see him reaching for something and then she felt one of the paddles. The largest one, she thought. That seemed odd, since he had usually built the intensity, but when he put that paddle down and picked up one of the more diminutive paddles she realized that it hurt much more. And it hurt even more when he made the shift to the third paddle.

The spanking was wonderful, but it was also methodical. This was work he seemed to very much enjoy, but she could sense that he was holding something in reserve.

He put down the paddle. “Stand”, he said again, adding, “facing me”, as she crawled back off the bed and stood.

When she turned to face him, she saw that he had the riding crop again. He stood, clearly relishing the sight of her body, and then stroked her cheek with the end of the crop.

“Are you a bad girl?”, he asked, touching her chin with the crop.

“Yes, yes Sir”, she said.

He took the crop and very lightly stroked the side of her breast. “Are you sorry?”, he asked.

“Very, very sorry, Sir”, she said, as the end of the crop lightly brushed one of her nipples.

“Have your earned this spanking?” He touched the inside of her thigh with the crop and began slowly sliding it upward.

“Yes, Sir.” The words almost squeaked out of her.

He walked behind her. She could hear him doing something.

“Lie down on my lap with your ass on my left side”, he said.

She turned and saw that he was sitting on the bed. He had put a pillow in his lap. She did not know if this was for her comfort or to improve the position for spanking but she did as he had ordered. His body was warm, warmer than she was expecting. She could see that he was sweating. She had never really been this close to him, and she liked the way it felt.

She heard him pick something up and then it struck. The leather loop with the handle. But he was not in a mood to build in intensity this time, it seemed. Whatever was in reserve seemed to be suddenly very much out in the open and he became increasingly emotional, as he struck, then pummeled her ass. For the first time, she yelped, and that seemed to make him strike all the harder.

The leather loop fell to the floor and he was spanking her with his hand, with more force than she thought his body capable of. He seemed entirely overwhelmed with, well, it wasn’t fury. It was a powerful emotion and it was having its way with her ass. It was not methodical, it was wild. And she found herself yelping and saying words. She didn’t know what words. “Sorry, sorry Sir, sorry, please, sorry.”

And then he stopped.

She felt him take the hand that had spanked her so violently moments before and very deliberately stroked her sore ass again, this time seeming to luxuriate in the act of doing so. His fingers felt wonderful, and arousing, on her skin, and he traced S shapes and circles as he stroked her.

The circles widened, and soon his hand brushed her pussy as it moved near. The next circle was more direct, and this continued until each circle rubbed her clit, then continued on its way.

He leaned in close to her ear and said, in a whisper, “If you say you will behave yourself, I can touch you in a nice way. Would you like that?”

“Oh yes, yes Sir. I promise to behave.”

She could feel his hand move directly to her clit, and start to rub her, very slowly.

“Do you like that?”, he asked.

“Yes Sir, yes”, she said, or perhaps sighed.

He rubbed faster, and began to stroke the skin of her back with is free hand. He leaned in once more. “Do you want to come?”, he asked.

“Yes Sir, please”, she said.

The rubbing intensified and when the orgasm came, it carried with it all the force that had built up since he first told her to undress. It went on as he continued to rub and she cried out.

They stayed that way for a while, and then he said, very quietly, “turn over and lie down on your back for me.”

She breathed in and out, and then said, “Please Sir, if I may, may I please take a shower before you fuck me?”

It was his turn to breathe. “Stand up”, he said.

She stood very shakily and he stood facing her. He put his hand up and touched her cheek, and for the first time she saw that his hand, the one that had spanked her and caressed her, was swollen in a way that looked very painful. He had hurt his hand on her ass.

He put his hand behind her neck and pulled her down into a kiss. Then he whispered, “I will be waiting for you when you are done with your shower.”

When she returned to the room the first thing that she saw was that her clothes were gone. She was startled and looked around for them, until she heard him say, “I put them in the hamper, so they wouldn’t be on the floor. I would be happy to wash them for you, if you would like.”

That would take a while, she thought. She had no idea what time it was. She had made certain that he was her last job that day, in the expectation of rubbed feet and enjoyable conversation, but she didn’t even know if it had been one hour or ten.

She had a thought. “Sir”, she said, “may I please sleep here tonight? I don’t have to sleep in the bed with you, I can sleep on the couch, but I would like to stay here, if I could.”

He laughed. “That couch, in addition to being ugly and uncomfortable, is tiny for me to sleep on, so you would not sleep for one second on that monstrosity. But I would be very, very happy to have your company in the bed”, he said.

She had wrapped a towel around herself after her shower. It almost didn’t cover her, and she could see that he liked that. He motioned for her to come closer to him. When she did, he said, “You won’t be needing this”, and took the towel. He also took a long moment appreciating her body.

He grinned, and then walked over to the hamper and dropped the towel in. “You may have your clothes when it is time for you to leave the house, but until then you will wear nothing. Is that clear?”, he asked, though it was not really a question.

“Yes Sir”, she said.

He came close to her again and put his hands on her shoulders. He slid them down and brushed his fingers across her breasts, then down to her hips, then very lightly stroked her clit.

“I believe that before your shower I ordered you to lie down on the bed. I suggest that you do so, unless you would like some more spanking”, he said.

She complied as quickly as she could, at least as much from eagerness as from the implied threat. It quickly became clear that his mattress was in need of replacement, but she thought the better of mentioning it. She spread herself out on the bed and put her arms over her head.

He was quiet for a moment, then asked, “what may I do?”

She was surprised, briefly, then realized that here had been no discussion of what was and was not OK with her. It just felt like whatever he would want would be OK. But his question was the right one.

“I do have limits which we can discuss, but I will, for the moment, trust you, with the understanding that I will allow you to do what you like to me, unless it is outside those limits. If I don’t feel that I can continue I will ask to stop, but for the time being you may do as you like.” She had one more thought. “If you fuck me in my pussy or my ass, please use a condom”, she added.

 “That works perfectly for me”, he said.


Before she opened her eyes she was aware of him, his breathing, his arms around her, the almost uncomfortable heat of his body.

She usually wore something to bed, when she was sleeping in any event, and she had imagined that she would not sleep well unless she put on a t-shirt and panties, or something. But sleep had found her, almost inevitably, after the happy exhaustion of the evening.

Was it evening? Was this morning?

He had warned her that he sometimes twitched violently in his sleep, as whatever daemons lived in him took their vengeance in his brain, but he slept peacefully, hugging her to himself, as if her presence was a daemon repellant. She should add that to her resumé.

He had used his mouth on her, quite a bit. She liked that, and he seemed to also, more than just something fun to please her.

And the vibrators! How did she not know that he owned so many? What man had a vibrator collection? "One for every occasion", he had said. And he seemed to have a way of creating occasions.

The actual fucking was kind of sweet, in comparison to what happened before and after. She liked the way that he felt inside her, and though he was trying to be rough, there was tenderness that managed to seep through.

He seemed in a deep sleep himself, so he surprised her when he spoke. "Would you like coffee?", he asked, not stirring.

"Yes please, Sir", she said, "if you don't mind."

"I like that it is morning and I continue to be Sir", he said.

"Sir is who you are", she said, "what is your will, besides me drinking coffee?"

"Well, you drinking coffee naked, of course", he said.

He thought for a moment. “Can we say, until you ask specifically for it to stop, that from now on, I can order you to be naked at any time?”

She hadn’t really thought beyond the next day, and she considered for a moment.

“Sir, if you would like it, I will be naked whenever you ask. And”, she paused, “I would follow any order you might have for me, within the limits that we talk about. I will obey you.”

He considered her words for a moment. “That would make me very happy”, he said, "but we should discuss your limits, and mine, with our coffee."

"Would Sir like me to make the coffee", she asked.

She could feel him adjust his position, and became aware of the hardness of his cock. He pulled a condom from a drawer in the nightstand and said, "I will make the coffee, but first, there is something else that I would like you to do for me."

"Your pleasure is mine", she said, and smiled at the prospect of awaiting further orders.


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