Wednesday, October 2, 2013

Fantasy Vs. Reality

My Keyholder told me to be there at 10:30 sharp. I was a little early, but knocked on the door anyway. She opened the door and let me inside. "Strip, now, slut!" she ordered. I promptly did. "I want you to clean my whole house, top to bottom, and heaven help you if you do a poor job," she told me. I gulped, and started. I scrubbed toilets, sinks, countertops. She thought it was too easy, so she clamped nipple clamps on me; they swung back and forth, making my nipples get more and more tender with each movement. I scrubbed the floor on my hands and knees with a toothbrush. My Keyholder stood over me, inspecting, flicking me with the tail of a short whip to amuse herself and urge me along while she laughed. She stood imperiously over me in her latex bodysuit, grinding her heels into my back. After a few hours of this, she had me fix her lunch. I cooked up a tolerably good stew while I cleaned. She ate it, then fed me her leftovers from a dish on the floor. While I ate, she forced my head down into the food and laughed gleefully at my messy face. Then she had me clean up, and I licked her feet for the next five hours.

That's how it usually goes in fantasy, in the femdom novels. The reality of it was this: I arrived promptly at 10:30, as ordered. I hugged my Keyholder when I came in. I hadn't seen her in a few days, and, now that I'm caged again, even looking at her beautiful face swelled my heart (and my cock, I must be honest here). I kissed her feet. She relaxed on the couch, and I set about cleaning the house, doing yardwork, and some light maintenance (I have become quite the plumber). While I cleaned (fully clothed, mind you), we chatted a bit. I did actually clean the floor on my hands and knees, and with a toothbrush (for the grout). Every tile I cleaned I knew would be somewhere pleasant for her sole to step on. After I was done, I washed up. My Keyholder took me out to a late lunch, then rewarded me with a couple of beers at a local brewery. I got my submissive itch scratched, my Keyholder has a clean house to enjoy, and I already miss her greatly. All in all, a wonderful day.

The point is that femdom doesn't have to be all whip-wielding mistresses yelling at you. There's a time and place for that, maybe, sometimes. But 95% of the time, it is just normal times at home, with the woman quietly exercising her power. Would I have been happier being degraded and punished? Not necessarily (though that can be fun, on occasion). Was I happy to do a good job for her, and enjoy a nice time out? Certainly. Thank you, my Keyholder, for using your boy, and treating me so well.

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