Household slaves told how they began to serve women
He is a young man who decided to turn his love for BDSM into good and not be left on the street without money and work. She is a young girl who decides to experiment and agrees to the proposal of a strange man. What”s next? Read on to find out.
Contents of the article:
Heels, pride and unemployment
In 2006 I was 20 years old. I lost my job and couldn”t pay rent. Out of stupidity (and pride), he refused to help his parents and did not return home.
I”ve always liked BDSM, so the idea was to advertise on Craig”s List and offer myself as a house slave in exchange for housing. I tried to get me out of the apartment. I saw several answers, all of which were incorrect. Finally, I found a woman who agreed with my proposal.
We had a few “trial dates” and she allowed me to move in with her. She allowed me to put my things in her basement (of which there weren”t many).
And for the next two years I was her unpaid maid. He did all the cleaning, cooking, running errands for her and fulfilling her whims. She involved me in an outfit swap. Basically, it was fun and interesting, but at the same time tiring and uncomfortable. At first I didn”t like it at all, but then I learned to enjoy it. Especially from high heels. I miss them too. But I can”t wear them like that — when no one has power, I”m not interested.
The most difficult thing was not the specifics, but its consistency. Even when I”m not feeling well, I have to provide for myself 24/7. In those moments, I perceived it all as work.
I spent my weekends. While I was doing my work, she treated me very condescendingly. I can go have coffee, I can eat. And if I needed a day off, she could give it to me.
We didn”t have sex at all. In fact, I wasn”t even allowed to masturbate. Firstly, only in rare cases.
As far as I know, she was in a relationship with a man at the time, but they didn”t know about me. I”ve been in relationships since then, but they didn”t involve BDSM. I”m thinking about going back to everything though.
We no longer have contact with this woman. I think she has a new slave now.”
Glasses from Ikea and Israel
He wrote to me on a dating site. Hello. I am a servant. I will clean your house and do whatever you ask. I don”t expect anything in return. I like to serve strong and confident women. And I like smokers too.”
All this seemed unusual, and I could not pass by. I wanted to meet this fetishist. Yes, and I won”t interfere in the affairs of the house.
My friend and I are used to topics such as cool servants, who cleans and washes dishes, does laundry, etc. Basically, he did everything I didn”t want to do. Now I”m humiliating him. An olive pit is thrown at him. In short, I do whatever excites him.
I replied to his message. I am a strong, confident woman. I need to go. When will you come?” We continued our correspondence. Sometimes it became very intimate — he wrote to me in the evenings and asked how I was feeling.
It”s okay, everything”s fine. “A little lonely,” I replied. I had been out of a relationship for about four years at that point, so it was easy for me to trust this man who wasn’t afraid to be vulnerable with me.
I asked him not to give his name. I thought it would be better to call him Servant. And he has a fetish — to serve his superiors. Okay, I”ll do my part and do it well. I wanted to keep my side of the deal.
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We set a date for a meeting for him to come and get himself in order. But at the last moment he merged. I don”t have money to ride the subway. I can ask my father, but he won”t agree.
My friend laughed when he heard this.
We tried a few more times, but nothing worked. We stopped communicating and started making videos on YouTube. They were stupid videos of me lying in the bathtub, drinking martinis and singing karaoke. Sometimes she smoked.
I thought it was funny and posted the video. My friends liked it. I didn”t think it would lead to anything.
But this guy sent me a message.
“Your video is so cool, I love it.” I think they will be a huge success in the smoking community.
People started following me. “He was given the nickname “ashtray slave” and other names. In other words, I have become a popular figure among people who enjoy the sight of women smoking.
One servant wrote to me. He asked if I was right-handed or left-handed. I told him I look sexier when I smoke with my right hand. I began to get tired of our correspondence. “That’s not the point of the video,” I wrote.
He continued to write to me. I asked when there would be a new video. He said it could be used as an ashtray. He offered his services as a driver. And that”s exactly how it works! I needed a new lamp and wine glasses, but Ikea was hard to find.
“You”re lucky. You should go to Ikea,” I wrote.
I”d like to give you a ride, but I don”t have money for gas. I know it”s not very nice to ask for money for this, but I”m broke.”
Well, it”s okay. Taxis will still be expensive.
We have an appointment on Friday at 2 pm. And now this day has come. 2 pm. 3 hours. I called him and turned on all my controls.
I”m on my way. There”s terrible traffic,” he said.
Finally he came. 15. 45. I got out of the car and saw a man in a red Toyota waving at me.
I should have been afraid of him, but I wasn’t — I had long wanted to see this man. I”ve been talking to him online for months and now he”s right in front of me. It seemed to me that I already knew him. I walked to my car and opened the door. The servant was stocky, with long black hair streaked with gray. He was about 40 years old.
“You are very beautiful,” he said. Your freckles are not visible in the video.”
I got into the car and we drove off. “You are Jewish, aren”t you?” — He asked. Yes, that”s true. But not particularly religious,” I said. He then asked me what I thought about Israel and Gaza.
I sighed. This was a thousand years ago. Everyone hates each other too much. Nobody wants to compromise.”
Then he spoke. His reasoning surprised me. Standing in front of me was an educated man, well versed in politics. I knew he was kind, but I couldn”t believe that a servant could be so smart. He lives with his father and cannot even afford a subway ride.
We got to Iko and I let him push my cart. He agreed and thanked me. I went ahead. Having bought everything I needed, I left the store. The servant followed on my heels. He carefully laid out my purchases in the back seat so they wouldn”t break.
Then he came to us. I opened the door to the apartment and put my bags on the floor.
I”ll give you money for gas. How much do you need? 20?” — I asked.
“Ohno.” Up to 8 dollars. I’ll probably give six to my father and keep the rest for myself.”
I gave him 11 dollars. We stood awkwardly in the corridor. Can I start hugging him? But it was strange to stand like that.
Thank you,” I opened the door.
It was a pleasure serving you. I hope you call again,” he said.
He walked towards the door, then stopped and turned around: “By the way. You’re very cute.”
Considering the fact that I had to humiliate this person, I”m not sure it”s a comp. Perhaps she should have been tougher.
I love to talk. And this servant managed to see the real one in me. I wanted to be dominant and domineering, but I couldn”t.
I can”t throw someone an olive pit. I can”t call people and ignore their presence. I prefer a friendly trip to Itcha with smart people to talk to about Middle Eastern politics.
