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From: andreasman@aol.com (AndreasMan)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: The Housekeeper - Part 3 of 6
Date: 15 Dec 1994 19:45:31 -0500
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The Housekeeper  

by Andreas Mann

Part 3 of 6


"He asked me if I had heard of Diane Viera's Nine Degrees of Submission. 
I said I hadn't.  Then he and she began discussing the degrees of
submission.  I think they did this for my benefit.  They whipped me from
head to toe with something that stung like a cat, but the pain melted into
warmth very quickly.  And they talked about me.  He said I had nice hands.
 She said I needed to learn posture.  She noticed the way I slouch.  He
said a well trained slave shouldn't slouch.  She agreed.  They beat me
some more for slouching, telling me what they would do if I were their
live-in slave."

"It sounds pretty intense," I say.

She paused and changed position, blushed a little and looked up at me with
such open eyes that I wanted to take her leather-bound wrists right there
and lead her up to MY backroom.  She sighed.

"Well, I really enjoyed the scenes with them.  There wasn't any sex, but
that was alright.  I found them so fulfilling as dominants that it wasn't
what mattered.  I found myself submitting more and more and wanting to
more and more.  They told me they wanted me to be their live-in slave and
used to discuss my role and duties during the scenes.  Then after a few
times together the wife began to get strange.  At least I began to feel
all these negative things from her.  She became brittle and distant.  And
he became more silent.  Finally, they sat me down one evening and told me
that it was over," she paused again to let the emotion pass, tears
beginning to well in her eyes.  "I asked them why.  I told them how good I
thought it had been.  Asked them why they had broken me down so far, just
to push me out.  Asked them what they had mean't by telling me they wanted
me to be their live-in slave, and then this?  And I told them how I felt
we were all getting closer together." She began to sob.

"It's alright to cry," I said in a soft voice. "No need to be embarassed
at all.  Let it all out.  You're here with me now and that's what's
important."

She cried quietly for a while, her head down, sitting on the floor at my
feet.  I slipped the box of tissues next to her knee and she pulled some
out and wiped her tears and blew her nose.

"I don't know why it still hurts so much!" she said looking up. 

"You felt very close to them," I said.  "You opened up a lot and they
dropped you.  Of course you're hurt."

"That's just it," she said.  "This isn't the first time it's happened.  I
told you how the others dropped me.  What is it about me?  Why do they
drop me like that, when I've opened up.  I don't understand."

"Listen," I said seriously, "it is NOT your fault.  They are idiots with
problems of their own.  There's nothing wrong with you.  They didn't know
how to appreciate and value your openness."

She smiled up at me, searching my face for meaning.  Was I fooling her
like the others, or did I mean what I said.  I smiled and looked into her
eyes.

"Listen," I said lightheartedly, "there's nothing wrong with you that a
bit of good control and discipline wouldn't fix!" And I winked.

She laughed: "Thanks.  I hope you're right."

"I am.  I know what you need.  You've pretty much told me by telling me
all your stories.  You really are a submissive.  And that makes you more
valuable than you know.  It doesn't mean you should suffer abuse like you
have.  All you need is training.  Discipline is good for the soul..." I
laughed and smiled at her.

"I'm so glad that you asked about my wristbands!" she exclaimed.  "And I
am so sorry that I blew up like that."

"Don't be.  From what you've told me, I really do understand," I said. 
"Now, we need some refreshment.  How would you like to start earning your
keep?"

"Okay, yes I'd like to," she said with a brightening smile.

"Good.  Well, why don't we have a tea.  Would that suit you?"

"Yes, that would be nice."

"Okay.  You'll find tea on the counter by the kettle, and cups on the dish
rack.  Do you think you can manage?"

"Yes, Sir!" she said in mock salute.

"Good.  You go and make us tea and leave me time to think about what to do
with you..." I smiled.  "Hmmm, now what will I do with you?"

Gina rose from the floor.  I looked at her carefully as she went into the
kitchen.  A nice frame.  A graceful motion.  She had a nice derriere and
would look delicious in a shortish, flared skirt.  And there was a
sweetness about her that was intoxicating.  When she came back I would
tell her about my involvement in the scene.  Hmm, maybe she COULD be my
fulltime housekeeper and cook, I mused.  I wonder.  Well, one day at a
time.

"Thank you, Gina," I said as she placed the cup of tea beside me and sat
back down on her cushion on the floor.

"You're very welcome," she smiled.

"Well, I should let you rest a little and tell you about my involvement
with the SM world. Okay?"

"Yes, Sir," she smiled.

"I've been in it for years, and it's been in me since birth, I'm sure," I
quipped with a laugh.  She laughed too.  "As a boy I was fascinated by
dungeons and chains and punishment.  Whenever I saw an old movie like that
I found myself swooning and getting aroused.  I didn't know what it was
and didn't question it.  Later on in my teens I found myself attracted to
dark-eyed, dynamic-looking women.  I was very lucky or just fated, I don't
know which.  One night in a club a beautiful woman picked me up.  I must
have been about eighteen.  She seemed much older but now I'd guess that
she was no more than twenty-five or so.  Anyway, she took me back to her
place.  On the way, in a cab, she bit my ear and whispered 'you're such a
sweet boy, I'm going to have such fun with you.  Aren't you going to be my
love slave tonight?'  I blushed and got so hard.  She slipped her hand
into my lap and felt me.  'Oh, that's nice.  I think we're going to have
fun.'  Anyway, her name was Vanessa, and she taught me my first lessons in
SM.  She had a lot of toys, as people in the scene like to call 'em, and
she used them all on me.  Before long I was one of her stable of slaves. 
She was very magnetic and beautiful, and had a string of guys running
after her.  This isn't boring you?" I asked.

"No, it's a great story.  Please go on."

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Cont in Part 4
The HouseKeeper is copyright 1994/5
Red Moon Press 
Permission is given for electronic distribution. 
Contact andreasman@aol.com for print & other media permissions, or logon
to Popular Emotion BBS (215-386-9333).
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