I do enjoy providing service (cooking or cleaning/chores for someone without expectation of anything in return). Sure, I love the play aspects of BDSM play, but service scratches that other itch I have, one friend called it getting my “slave heart” needs met.
While I do enjoy providing service, it’s very difficult to find someone who enjoys it as well and isn’t doing it just because they’re lazy. They understand and know what the meaning of service is. It’s not just about doing chores, it’s the context of why they’re being done…and a whole lot more.
It reminds me of one woman I met and only provided service to once.
We had met online. She had put up an ad claiming that she was looking for someone to provide service. It would mostly involve cleaning in the nude but there would be no play, nothing sexual and pure service. She made it very clear from the start that she was only looking for service.
I had never provided service in the nude before and could imagine the feeling of submission I would get by cleaning on my hands and knees while a clothed Domme looked over my work.
Plus, I’ll admit, it sounded hot.
We talked on the phone a few times, she made it clear over and over again that there would be no play and nothing sexual would occur and if that’s what I was looking for, I should look somewhere else.
I agreed and told her I had never mixed service and sex before anyway. She sent me a very long list of items that I should bring to her. I was told that if I were to continue serving her I would need to bring a long list of items every time. The credit card came out and I knew right then that the odds of me serving her a second time were slim simply due to the cost of serving her on a long term basis.
I walked through her door carrying my overstuffed backpack filled with her requested items. She greeted me and had me strip as soon as I walked in the door. She noticed I was fully aroused, looked at me and smiled a big grin.
“Is this for me?” she asked lightly touching me
How do I answer that? She was clear that there wouldn’t be any play, nor anything sexual. I just kept quiet.
She had me put away all of the items I bought for her while she took care of some things. Focusing on a task helped me not only get into my “service oriented” subspace, but also forget that I was naked.
She came up behind me and told me to turn around and stand still with my hands behind my back.
She looked down at my crotch again and began stroking me while her other hand was massaging my balls.
“I think we need to do something about these big balls of yours.”
She grabbed a stainless steel ball stretcher (I had never even seen one before this) and placed it around my scrotum, screwing the bolts in place with a wrench.
The weight gently pulled on my balls and the feeling of cold steel turned me on even more but even then I wasn’t expecting anything (yes, I can be a bit naive).
She wanted me to start by cleaning the bathroom and it wasn’t long after I started to clean the tub, bent over and on my knees, that I felt her hands stroking my ass.
“Keep working”
Obviously, I was distracted and not able to do the quality of work I normally do. Soon I felt her hand covered in lube stroking me and it became even more difficult for me to concentrate.
“You have a beautiful ass, are you a virgin?”
“No Ma’am”
“Are you bi”
“Straight Ma’am”.
“Maybe next time I’ll have to fill you up a bit!” she said
She noticed I was distracted and gave me a few strong whacks with her hand on my backside as punishment for not paying attention.
This continued over and over again. I would be in the middle of cleaning or organizing something and it wouldn’t be more than 10 minutes before her slick hand was jerking me off while she caressed another part of my body.
For someone who made it clear that there wouldn’t be any play, this sure felt like an awful lot of play.
This continued all day. Over and over again she would play with me, take me close to the edge and then punish me for being distracted in my work. At one point she told me that she couldn’t control herself around me and that I would need to take initiative and try to stop her from toying with me.
“Ok you need to just focus on work right now, I can’t control myself around you, you’re not getting nearly enough done right now so you need to stop me from playing with you”.
She realized what she had said as soon as it left her lips.
I remember thinking “Wait, what??? Who’s the dominant one here?”
I went back to work and sure enough, a few minutes later she had her lubed hand stroking me again. She had taken me to the edge so many times that I was dying to cum.
“Don’t you ever kiss the women you serve”?
Kiss? The thought hadn’t crossed my mind. I suppose I just didn’t feel passionate for her “in that way” but my mind was in another place.
“If that’s what they wish” I answered, my eyes half open and my whole body shaking.
She knew she had me close. If she wanted to I probably would have passed out from an orgasm after being teased by her all day.
“Look at that body of yours, you’re shaking, every muscle wants to cum. I’m not sure if I should let you since you really didn’t get enough work done to have a reward.”
She continued to tease me for the last half an hour of my stay, continuously stroking me pulling down on the weight around my balls and just when I thought she was about to let me cum…she stopped, told me I could cum when I got home and removed the ball stretcher.
I was a total mess, aching with desire, my body was shaking on the subway home so much that someone stopped to ask me if I was ok.
I never did serve her again, even though I had fun and would probably have served again, she was interested in owning me and not looking for anything casual and…well….it just wasn’t there for me.
Still, I miss the feeling of that ball stretcher.
