Domestic servitude

What a fabulous experience it was to sit and watch a submissive scrub away iat my kitchen yesterday. Female supremacy at its finest.



A few weeks ago I put up an ad for a domestic slave. I had ralot of interest, but no one tickled my fancy. Some just wanted an excuse to see if they could get a session out of it and some were wanking into tissues as they messaged me with explicit fantasies. I'm not interested in any of that in a domestic. Hard labour is all he could hope for.

I did get chatty with an experienced domestic and although he did not apply for the "vacancy" he soon found himself agreeing to be my scrubber.

I deliberately didn't clean in the few days leading up to his arrival as I wanted it to be challenging for him. The main job was the inside of the oven which promised to be greasy, hard and dirty work for him. As I sat on the sofa watching him and chatting about various things such as fetish, experiences etc. I felt so at peace that a man nearly twice my age was performing these demeaning and grubby tasks because I didn't want to.

Although I was not in full on "domme" mode and we chatted in a relaxed and friendly manner, there is nothing like the feeling you get when a man is on his hands and knees performing the tasks that I am far too superior to give my time to. Being a queen bee with active little worker drones serving you for no reward other than having served you really does put a smile on your face.