Cleaning and Service
Started by Nancy Clerk
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0 Replies
Posted: 5 yrs
Her house was amazingly clean; she never needed to worry about being embarrassed about her guests thinking she was a sloppy housecleaner.
She had a small number of Pets that she kept on the string (or sometimes on a leash) for her amusement and sexual pleasure. Each one of them had been trained to a certain level of behavior to help around the house, and, most importantly, to amuse her by giving her the permission of controlling their cocks and their orgasms.
She scheduled them, separately, at least one session per week to: arrive at her house, ring the bell (which she would answer quickly, dressed each time in a different revealing outfit, or, once in awhile, naked herself to spark their interest), enter and immediately strip down to nothing but the cage enclosing his cock. At this point he would stand with hands behind his back while she told him of the chores to be done, and unlocking the cage at the same time. Her first (and very dependable) point of amusement and extreme enjoyment was the little gasp each one made as the cage came off, and the little shiver they made at her touch, immediately getting at least semi-erect.
From that point she would happily observe him as they did cleaning, some food prep, dusting, trash, and some outside yard work in her fenced back yard (she was kind enough to furnish sandals for this, of course), grading him on their attention to detail and speed. Between each task she would have him kneel and stroke his erect cock for her... at her speed, slowly, no rush; each one was grateful beyond words for the permission to touch it, though that gratitude was almost immediately mixed with anguish at the unfulfilled need to orgasm. She only allowed (dictated) a certain small number of strokes, perhaps three minutes per mini-session. Then on to the next chore, motivated by the end game. It was interesting watching how long it took each time for his cock to lose some of its hardness as he went to the next chore; sometimes it was hard almost all the way through the dishwashing or floor washing. He was, of course, forbidden to touch it at any time other than between chores.
The end game, of course, was the chance to cum, but before that each one was allowed to satisfy her lust; she had made sure that they knew exactly how to do so. She would sit in a recliner, allow him to kneel in front of her at exactly the right height to bend over and put his face on her pussy, slowly licking and sucking her clit till she came, and then kneeling at attention till she recovered, smiling with pleasure and to taunt him a little more.
Then she would bring out a single die and ask him, "What number today?", and watch as he realized this was the single chance for relief for days, possibly a week. (If she wasn't happy with the work he had done she would indicate it by using two dice. Nothing more needed to be said but his expression of fear and disappointment when he saw the extra one gave her a little extra bit of delight). He always thought about it, as if it might make a difference, and then would say a number; she would roll the die or dice, and they would watch as it bounced and finally came to a stop. She loved the complete attention he gave to watching the die, and the little shiver he had when it stopped.
If he had guessed right, he did get release - sometimes from his own stroking, sometimes from hers; once in a great while she would take him into her mouth and finish him that way. It never, never took long for him to cum, of course. Even one week of denial and being caged and then thinking about this one chance for release had him all horny all the time.
Whether or not he was allowed to cum, it was always the pack of frozen peas he dreaded - applied to his balls to make sure he shrank enough to be caged up again. The cage went on quickly - she was very practiced and almost clinical in how carefully and efficiently she put it on and locked it, then looking up at him and smiling - "Good job!", handing him his clothes and seeing him out the door, knowing that his thoughts were centered on the next visit and the hope of a winning number.
She had a small number of Pets that she kept on the string (or sometimes on a leash) for her amusement and sexual pleasure. Each one of them had been trained to a certain level of behavior to help around the house, and, most importantly, to amuse her by giving her the permission of controlling their cocks and their orgasms.
She scheduled them, separately, at least one session per week to: arrive at her house, ring the bell (which she would answer quickly, dressed each time in a different revealing outfit, or, once in awhile, naked herself to spark their interest), enter and immediately strip down to nothing but the cage enclosing his cock. At this point he would stand with hands behind his back while she told him of the chores to be done, and unlocking the cage at the same time. Her first (and very dependable) point of amusement and extreme enjoyment was the little gasp each one made as the cage came off, and the little shiver they made at her touch, immediately getting at least semi-erect.
From that point she would happily observe him as they did cleaning, some food prep, dusting, trash, and some outside yard work in her fenced back yard (she was kind enough to furnish sandals for this, of course), grading him on their attention to detail and speed. Between each task she would have him kneel and stroke his erect cock for her... at her speed, slowly, no rush; each one was grateful beyond words for the permission to touch it, though that gratitude was almost immediately mixed with anguish at the unfulfilled need to orgasm. She only allowed (dictated) a certain small number of strokes, perhaps three minutes per mini-session. Then on to the next chore, motivated by the end game. It was interesting watching how long it took each time for his cock to lose some of its hardness as he went to the next chore; sometimes it was hard almost all the way through the dishwashing or floor washing. He was, of course, forbidden to touch it at any time other than between chores.
The end game, of course, was the chance to cum, but before that each one was allowed to satisfy her lust; she had made sure that they knew exactly how to do so. She would sit in a recliner, allow him to kneel in front of her at exactly the right height to bend over and put his face on her pussy, slowly licking and sucking her clit till she came, and then kneeling at attention till she recovered, smiling with pleasure and to taunt him a little more.
Then she would bring out a single die and ask him, "What number today?", and watch as he realized this was the single chance for relief for days, possibly a week. (If she wasn't happy with the work he had done she would indicate it by using two dice. Nothing more needed to be said but his expression of fear and disappointment when he saw the extra one gave her a little extra bit of delight). He always thought about it, as if it might make a difference, and then would say a number; she would roll the die or dice, and they would watch as it bounced and finally came to a stop. She loved the complete attention he gave to watching the die, and the little shiver he had when it stopped.
If he had guessed right, he did get release - sometimes from his own stroking, sometimes from hers; once in a great while she would take him into her mouth and finish him that way. It never, never took long for him to cum, of course. Even one week of denial and being caged and then thinking about this one chance for release had him all horny all the time.
Whether or not he was allowed to cum, it was always the pack of frozen peas he dreaded - applied to his balls to make sure he shrank enough to be caged up again. The cage went on quickly - she was very practiced and almost clinical in how carefully and efficiently she put it on and locked it, then looking up at him and smiling - "Good job!", handing him his clothes and seeing him out the door, knowing that his thoughts were centered on the next visit and the hope of a winning number.
