1        A two part story of a man whose lucrative business evolves into a true vocation.  As with most of my stories it develops slowly, and I hope readers will stick with it into the second part.

Houseboy For Hire, Part One

       Rory retrieved the key from under the third flower pot and let himself in the back door.  He had a similar working arrangement with most of his clients, so that they wouldn’t have to be bothered letting him in every time, or even have to be home when he was there.  He made his way down the hall to the kitchen where he found Mr. Givens seated at the kitchen bar drinking his coffee and reading the morning paper.

       “Good morning Mr. G.” Rory offered up with a bright smile.

       Mr Givens looked up.  “Oh, good morning Rory.  It’s Monday isn’t it, and you’re here bright and early as always.  I’m afraid Mrs. Givens is still in bed, and we had quite a busy weekend so we haven’t had a chance to straighten up much and the place is a bit of a mess.”

       No more so than usual, Rory thought, but after all that’s what kept him gainfully and lucratively employed.

       “No problem Mr. G.  That’s what I’m here for.”

       Mr. Givens smiled back.  “I guess that’s true.  In any case, try to do some of the quieter cleaning first while the Missus is still asleep.”

       “Sure thing Mr. G,”

       Rory was a professional housekeeper, a Houseboy for Hire, as his listing and ad on Craig’s List proclaimed.  He had started his business six years prior, soon after graduating from college, almost as a lark, mostly because at that time he didn’t know what else he wanted to do with his life, and also because he was good at and actually even enjoyed housework, having had a great deal of experience with it growing up.  Except for laundry.  He hated doing laundry, even his own, which tended to often pile up in his apartment over time.  He always made it clear up front with prospective clients that laundry would not be part of his services.

       

       He had been quite frankly surprised at how well and rapidly his business had taken off after he had place what was still his one and only ad and listing.

“Houseboy for Hire.  Allow me to expertly and efficiently take care

       of most of your domestic needs.  Weekly or Bi-weekly.”

       He had thought his early success was likely in part due to the novelty.  But his good natured boyish charm and personality, along with his 6' 3" athletic and nicely muscled frame and good looks, also helped to endear him to many prospective clients, especially the women, who invariably were the ones who did the hiring.  After that, the fact that he turned out to be very good and conscientious at the job always helped to seal the deal.

       And he wasn’t cheap.  From the very start he had believed that if he wasn’t going to make a decent living out of it then what was the point.  This had cost him some early potential customers who had balked at his price, but he had gotten some, and when word of mouth, and reviews on the web spread, he fairly quickly built up a thriving concern.  He worked two four hour sessions, 8am to noon, and 1pm to 5, Monday through Friday.  Most clients used him for one regular four hour session a week, although a few alternated with other clients on a bi-weekly basis.  He charged $200.00 for each four hour session, making it a point to always have his weekends off, and allowing himself two weeks off every year for vacation.  With the full Monday to Friday schedule usually filled, as it had been for the past number of years, he was making at base $100,000 a year, and that didn’t include his frequent tips and holiday bonuses.

       Of the former of those, the most frequent and generous come from a more intimate service he had begun to provide for a few of his clients.  They were always the first to approach him in this regard, but he always made sure to make it seem that he was equally desirous.  And he was never so crass as to suggest that money should in any way be involved.  It was just an extra for both parties to enjoy, even as he did always appreciate the larger than usual tips that came his way after. It also helped to keep his own libido well satisfied, even as he was in no other ways engaged by any of it.  He currently had three clients with whom he regularly provided this service, and two others on occasion.

       After Mr. Givens had left for work, Rory set about to begin his chores, quietly as he  had been instructed.  He washed and dried and then put away the accumulated number of dirty dishes and pots and pans that lay around the kitchen, as well as the full stack of clean ones still in the dishwasher.  He then proceeded to sweep and then mop the kitchen floor before moving on to pick up, dust and polish in the living and dining rooms.  He was careful to not make too much noise, although he knew that Mrs. Givens would likely be up soon enough.  As he had come to expect, at about 10 o’clock she appeared at the door of her bedroom, wearing a long white silk robe.  She did not look in any way disheveled as someone who had just risen from bed.  Her hair was carefully combed and brushed, and make up had already obviously been applied to her face.  Upon seeing her Rory gave her his best nice boy smile.

       “Good morning Mrs. G.  You look lovely as always this morning.”

       Mrs. Givens grinned back.  “Why thank you Rory.  It’s wonderful to see you again to start the week.” she purred, and then started to turn back into her bedroom.  “Could you come in here for a moment?  There’s something I need you for.”

       “Of course Mrs. G.” he replied as she led him into the room.  Once he was inside she stopped at the foot of her bed, and with her back still to him she slipped off her robe and let it fall to the floor, revealing her to be fully naked beneath. 

       Mrs. Givens was one of his regulars.

       In her late forties she was reasonably attractive, if a bit short and plump.  Rory clearly knew what to do next.  He ambled over behind her and placed his arms around her, cupping her ample breasts in his hands.  Slowly massaging them for a time he then lightly played with her nipples between his fingers as she leaned more fully back into him.  He then moved one of his hands softly down her belly, eventually finding her patch of hair below.  He let his fingers gently caress the outside of her slit which was already well wet.  Using two of his fingers he spread her distant lips apart, searching for and discovering her button of joy which he began to brush to and fro with one finger, as the other probed more deeply within.  She began to sway, groan and buckle in his grasp.

       Finally she could take no more and suddenly pulled away and turned around, dropping to her knees before him, rapidly undoing the front button and zipper of his pants and pulling them and his boxers down as he rose fully and firmly in front of her.

       “Oooh, you’re so big.” she crooned.

       Rory had never considered his six inches, while thick, to be overly endowed, and he wondered idly at that moment about Mr. Givens in that regard.  Mrs. Givens wasted no time, hungrily enveloping his entire manhood within her mouth, and began to furiously deep throat him.  He would have preferred a more delicate touch and slower pace, but he didn’t find the process entirely unpleasing, especially as he still had work to finish when they were done, and he also had a new client to meet that afternoon and he didn’t want to be late for that.  He let her have at him as such for another minute before leaning forward and gently lifting her up and courteously positioning her on her back on the bed.

       “That was really very nice Mrs. G, but I think I know what we both want more.”

       Mrs. Givens grinned up at him, pulled up her knees and spread her legs wide in ready anticipation.  Rory slipped off his pants completely, pulled off his tee shirt, and quickly put on an ever available and expected condom.  He then knelt up onto the bed between her legs and penetrated her.  In this position he could more readily control the rate and rhythm, but she made her own demands clearly apparent.

       “Harder Rory.  Fuck me harder.”

       He strove diligently to please.

       “Keep going.  Keep going.  Keep going.” she panted.

       And he did.

       “Don’t stop ... Please, please don’t stop.” she pleaded

       And he didn’t.  One of Rory’s many talents in this realm was that he could usually last quite some time, especially when his mind was occupied with what chores he still had to do when this was done, and what his schedule would bring later that day,

       “I’m coming Rory, I’m coming” she shrieked.  “Oh God I’m coming so much.”

       Rory took this as a cue and invitation for his own release, and with one final deep thrust and a low guttural groan, he came himself, accompanied by even louder screams from Mrs. Givens.

       In a few moments it was over, and he slipped out and onto his side next to her.  Taking a few more moments for them both to collect themselves, he finally spoke,

       “You’re the best Mrs. G.”

       She beamed up at him. “Do you really think so?”

       “Without a doubt.” he confirmed.

       She sighed contentedly, and after another minute he began to get up.

       “I hate to have it end so quickly, but I still have to vacuum before I go.” he said. “And I have a new client I have to be on time for this afternoon.”

       “I understand.” she answered.  “I’m going to stay here and rest a bit longer.” she added.  “Don’t worry about making the bed.  I’ll do it after you leave.”

       He gave her another huge smile.

       “As I said Mrs. G.  You’re the best.”

       Rory quickly dressed and got out to finish the rest of his morning’s work.  He certainly wouldn’t shirk or scrimp on his primary responsibilities.  This was his livelihood and he was a professional and proud of it.  This other service, for those that asked and wanted it, was just an extra, a nice little aside and benefit for both parties.

       He vacuumed the three rooms that needed it, then finished dusting, polishing and tidying up so that by noon everything, except the unmade bed which Mrs. Givens had promised to take care of, was clean and immaculate.  He had not seen Mrs. Givens again, but did find the envelope with his check for the morning session on the dining room table, along with, as was written on the outside of the envelope ‘a little something extra for all your good work.’  He smiled , pocketed the envelope and made his way out the back door, placing the key under the flower pot as he left for his car, and to make his way to the afternoon session with the new customer.

       For the past four years, Rory had always been able to maintain a full weekly schedule of clients.  He would lose an occasional one when they would move away, and twice when the customers, after a time, thought that he was a bit too expensive.  More often some clients would insist that they needed him more than once a week, which he would always politely refuse, indicating that it wouldn’t be fair to his other customers who filled all of his slots.  Most accepted this status quo, not wanting to lose him completely.  He had lost a few clients along the way who had truly needed more time, but this never posed a problem for him.  From word of mouth, and regular continuing queries to his web listing, he had a healthy waiting list of prospective clients, which he now had to utilize far and far less often.

       The Monday afternoon slot was the first one that he had had to fill in over six months, but the client he was going to meet now for the first time had not been on his waiting list.  He was taking her on at the behest of Mrs. Franklin, one of his earliest clients, and who had been extremely helpful in the beginning in helping him find a number of new customers.  When she had recently asked if he could now help a friend of hers in dire need of housekeeping help, when this slot had opened he felt that he couldn’t and shouldn’t refuse her.

       He didn’t know much about this new person other than her name, Rhianne Ross, and that she lived alone in a house on the far side of town.  Most of Rory’s clients were married couples, although he did have a few older widows who lived by themselves, and one elderly spinster who treated him like the doting grandmother that he had never had.  He wondered which of these two likely categories this new client fell into.  He had only communicated with her via email, once that address had been supplied by Mrs. Franklin, to set up this day’s appointment and session.

       It took him the better part of his lunch hour to find on his GPS and get to her house, which was on the opposite end and well outside the town.  It was at the end of a small cul-de-sac and up a fairly long driveway.  It was effectively hidden from the road by a large number of trees, but opened up at the top of the driveway to reveal a reasonably sized lawn area and hedges, all of which he noted were not very well maintained.  That was not a concern for him though, as he only ever contracted for inside housework.  The house itself was two stories with an attached garage, and was pleasant enough appearing, though in some areas looking to be needing some upkeep and repair.

       

       He made his way to the front door,  probably the last time to be entering this way he mused, and rang the doorbell.  He waited patiently for well over a minute.  When no one answered he wondered how long he should wait before ringing again without seeming rude or impatient, particularly as hired help.  After more than two minutes he thought that perhaps she hadn’t heard the first ring, and maybe he should finally ring again.  Just as he was about to do so the door opened.

       Standing in front of him was a young woman about his own age, probably in her late twenties.  She was tall for a woman, at least 5' 11", and had long reddish brown hair, now pulled back into a pony tail with a scrungie.  She wore no make up, and for some reason he instinctively surmised that she rarely if ever did.  Nor that she would need to.  It would have added nothing, indeed would likely detract from what he could already see as an almost  pristine and natural allure, with just a hint, he sensed, of a possible darker mystery.  Slim and athletically built she was wearing long track warm up pants, running shoes, and a dark blue tee shirt.  She remained there looking at him intently, waiting.

       After several silent moments Rory was the first to sally forth.  He flashed his brightest, genuine, ‘it’s a great pleasure to meet you’ smile and broke the ice.

       “Hi, I’m Rory, the houseboy for hire.  I believe we’ve been communicating by email and set up this appointment for today.”  If, in actuality she was the customer.  He had never before had a client his own age.  Indeed, he had never had one within ten years of his age.

       “Ah, yes.” she responded.  “I’m Rhianne Ross.” confirming the fact.  “You’re the person Dolores Franklin so highly recommended.  Come in and we’ll talk first.”

       With that she turned and walked away, and he entered and closed the door behind him.  As he followed her from behind he was impressed by how she moved with such a lithe and confident grace.  She led him into a living room and sat down at the end of a long sofa.  She then indicated that he should sit across from her.  The only chair there was a big overstuffed easy chair with a hassock in front, and he didn’t think that as the new houseboy it would seem right for him to settle back into the easy chair, so he sat on the edge of the hassock, facing her.  She appeared to find that appropriate.

       This time she was the one to speak first, and did so with a reserved smile, which nonetheless he found quite charming.

       

       “Mrs Franklin has certainly extolled your abilities and I hope she is right.” she began.  “I work from home, and I’m also a bit of a homebody.  But I’m also not much of one for housework so I need someone to tidy up and put and keep this place in reasonably good order.  Do you think you’re up to that task?”

       He once again summoned up a big, boyish smile.  “It’s what I do, and I promise you I’ll always do my best.” he assured her.  “And I do most everything that deeds doing inside the house,” he continued, “except for laundry.” he concluded, just to make that clear from the very beginning.

       

       “Yes, Dolores did mention that.”  Her smile curved up slightly more.  “I’m sure that’s something we can take care of.”

       He nodded back in return.

       “Well, I think that settles everything for right now,” she said after they had chatted a while longer, “and I have to get back to work, and you need to get started.  So if there’s nothing else, let’s both get to it.”  She then stood up and he hopped up quickly in response.

       “Yes ... Ma’am.”  He hadn’t been sure at that moment how to refer to her.  Miss Ross or Miss R just didn’t seem quite the right way to answer to somebody his own age, and yet she was an employer and an amount of respect for that needed to be somehow acknowledged, so in that instant he had come up with ‘Ma’am’.  She seemed to accept and be satisfied with that. She nodded and left the room without another word.

       After she had left him to his tasks Rory did a quick survey of the house and discovered that she had not exaggerated the general state of disarray.  In every room he found innumerable items strewn all about and seemingly just left where they had last been used.  There had obviously been no serious housecleaning in quite some time, and he realized that it was going to take far more that one session to restore the entire place into some semblance of order.  He decided to attack the most serious areas first, starting in the kitchen with the piles of dishes, pots and pans that needed to be washed and put away.  He scrubbed down the sink, oven, stove and counters, and rearranged neatly all of the cabinets.  This left him with just enough time to scour and clean the two bathrooms in the house, leaving the porcelain toilets, tubs and sinks sparkling, and the tiles of the walls and floor gleaming.  He worried though that she might be upset that he had only gotten to these three rooms, but she said very little as she handed him his check for that first day as he left, other than that she would see him the following Monday.

       

       Arriving the next week he decided to work on her bedroom first.  After changing the linens and making her bed, wondering as he did whether she ever did so herself, he then tackled her clothes closet, finding the floor piled with a jumble of mismatched shoes, slippers, sandals and boots, the hanging clothes jammed together indiscriminately, many half on and half off the hangers, and the shelves above a morass of sweaters, scarves and boxes.  It took him the better part of three hours to get it all in some civilized order, before going back to the kitchen and bathrooms, which after a week again needed some major attention, although no where near as much as the week before.  It took him two more sessions to fully attend to the rest of the house, including cleaning , dusting, and polishing the furniture in the living room, her study, her work out room, and the apparently little used dining room and extra bedroom.

       Every week he would have to spend some time in the kitchen, bathrooms and her bedroom, but by his second month on the job he had things well enough in hand and order that he could get to every room during every session.  It also seemed to him as time went on that things were not quite as messy from week to week, and that she might be making some small effort to keep things in more reasonable order in the times between his coming.  He did notice every week however that her laundry hampers were always overflowing, and he wondered how often she ever got to those.

       Rhianne was always present when he was there, although they seldom interacted except to say hello and goodbye, or if she had a special housekeeping ‘request’, which he always attended to immediately.  She would occasionally grace him with a pleasant smile, something he began to look forward to more and more.  She spent most of her time in her study on her computer, apparently working at her job, whatever that was, information of which she never volunteered.  Sometimes though she would exercise in her work out room, either running on her treadmill or using her stairmaster. Rory made it a habit when she did so, to walk by the open door of the room as often as he could manage, to cast long glances at her from behind as he did so.  He would find himself mesmerized by her long perfectly proportioned legs flowing so fluidly and effortlessly over the churning treadmill track.  When not in her workout top, shorts and shoes, she was usually casually dressed in tee shirts, cutoffs and sandals, her hair either in a pony tail or a bun, but sometimes enticingly hanging loose and long over her shoulders,

       

       He especially enjoyed the times when he would tidy up her study while she was working there.  She would always be so engrossed in her computer activities that she would hardly notice him, and he would take advantage of that by gazing at her for longer periods of time.  He was particularly drawn to the delightful way that she would dangle her sandal from the front of her foot as she typed away on her keyboard.  He soon realized that despite the paucity of their verbal interaction, he was beginning to be quite taken by her.

       Indeed, his Monday afternoon sessions there rapidly became the highlight of his week, even far more so than the intimate time he spent with his regulars several times a week.  He began to fantasize, often while he was there and even more when he wasn’t, that she might ask for and avail herself of this extra ‘services’ as well.  He wondered to himself of course whether she had a boyfriend, or even a special girlfriend, but he never saw or heard any evidence of either, so his own hopes in this regard continued to grow.  It wasn’t something he could comfortably suggest however.  It had to come from her, as it always had from all of the others, only in this case he would want it as much as she.  All he could think to do was to make himself as dependable and indispensable as possible, and have it be readily apparent that he was available in any way that she might want and desire.

       It was shortly after he had been working for her for more than three months that Rhianne surprised him as he was about to leave one afternoon by asking if she might have a word with him.

       “Sure, Ma’am.” he readily replied.

       Once again she led him into the living room and sat down on the end of the couch, as he perched himself on the edge of the hassock.  He waited.

       “Rory,” she finally began, “I’m not usually one to say things like this, but I hope you know how much I appreciate the wonderful job you do for me here, putting and keeping this place in order.”

       He was used to frequently receiving compliments about his good work, but never before had one given him such a thrill.

       “You’ve helped make my house into a home, a place I actually now enjoy living in.” she continued, but then paused, before, “But I’ve also come to realize that I need much more.”

       

       His heart leapt.  Could his ever growing fantasies actually be coming real?  Could she finally be wanting to use him for more ‘personal’ activities, as had been playing out in his mind almost constantly?

       

       “What is it that you might want, Ma’am?” he asked almost shyly, with his ever boyish charm.

       She looked at him expectantly, with a small smile, before proceeding.

       “I think I’ll need at least three afternoons a week, say Monday, Wednesday and Friday.  Monday can continue to be for general housecleaning, Wednesday for outside grounds maintenance which the place really needs, and Friday can be devoted to the laundry.  I think we would then have things fully in control.”

       Rory stiffened, stunned.  Outside maintenance?  He was no landscaper.  Laundry?  Hadn’t they been clear that he didn’t do laundry.  And he never worked more than one session a week for any client, although that might be much more enticing in this case.  Still, laundry!?!?  He hated laundry!!!!

       “Well Rory ...” she prodded.

       He had to buy some time to think.

       “I ... I ... I’ve got a full schedule of clients every week.” he stammered out in reply.

        She sighed.

       “I was afraid of that.”  She frowned.  “ I was really hoping that you’d be able to accommodate me, you do such good work that I wanted to offer it to you first.  But I do have some people that have become available for those three days, who can handle all of my required services, and I don’t want to lose the opportunity to get them.”

       “NO.” he blurted out almost involuntarily.  “Give me some time, Ma’am, please.” he continued in a rush.  “Maybe I can work something out.”

       

       She waited a beat.

       “Okay Rory.  But I really have to know now. Today.  These people are probably in great demand.”

       “A couple of minutes then.  Let me make some calls.”

       She nodded pleasantly.  “You can use my study.”

       Rory got up and took out his cell phone as he made his way to her office.  His Wednesday afternoon clients were the Whites, and he had never particularly cared for Mrs. White, as she never seemed to have anything nice to say about anything or anybody.  He might have dropped them as clients long ago except for his deeply held tenet that one never burned bridges under almost any circumstances.  Still, in this case, it really would only be a one time occurrence, he reasoned.  He called her and told her that an opportunity had come about that he couldn’t pass up, and that he wouldn’t be able to work for them anymore.  As he expected, Mrs. White was less than happy, calling him unprofessional and irresponsible for leaving them in the lurch so suddenly like this.  Although that severely wounded his professional pride, at least Wednesday afternoon was taken care of.

       His Friday afternoon clients, the Thompsons, were much more problematic.  Mrs. Thompson was one of his ‘regulars’, and the one he enjoyed playing with the most as she, a devotee of the Kama Sutra, could be quite inventive in her intimate activities.  He certainly didn’t want to give that up entirely.  He got her on the phone, explained the situation about the professional opportunity that he had to pursue, and offered to come in on Saturdays for her.

       “But Rory, my husband is home on Saturdays.” she answered.  “I don’t see how that could work.”

       His heart sank.  “I’m sorry Mrs. T, but it’s the best I can do.  I just have to take this position.” he responded forlornly.

       There was a long silence on the other end, before, “Well, I guess I can encourage him to play golf more often.  It’ll have to be Saturday afternoons though.  We sleep late on weekends.”

       

       “Thanks Mrs. T, you’re the greatest.  I owe you.”

       “Yes you do, and I’m going to make sure that you pay up appropriately whenever we’re able to now.”

       “You can count on it.” he replied roguishly as he hung up.  Now both afternoons were open, and he made his way back to the living room to inform the waiting Rhianne.

       

       “Excellent.” she responded as he told her, and she flashed him a most dazzling smile, which practically melted his soul.  “I was really hoping that you’d be able to work it all out.”  She stood up and handed him his check for the day.  “On Wednesday you can mow the lawn and trim the hedges.  They’re long overdue for that.  I believe that the laundry can wait just a little bit longer until you get to it on Friday.”  She gave him another big smile.  “I’ll see you then.” she concluded in dismissal as she left the room.

       Rory was in a daze as he drove home that evening.  Just what all had he gotten himself into.  Landscaping.  And Laundry.  It was unbelievable.  On the plus side though, he would be there with her that much more often, have that many more opportunities to ingratiate himself with her.  So far she had shown no inclination to interact with him in any other way than as the hired help, and he was beginning to realize just how much he wanted her to do so.  To see him in a wholly different and more personal way.

       He returned on Wednesday afternoon and made his way into the small shed at the edge of the property where he had never before ventured.  There, thankfully, he found that she had a power lawnmower, old enough that it probably had been left over from the previous owner and sold to her with the property.  He was not so lucky with the hedge clippers, which were of the manual variety.  Both were in dire need of cleaning and maintenance, but that would have to wait for another Wednesday, as the grass was markedly overgrown, and the many bushes all appeared wild and unkempt.  He spent the entire afternoon mowing and trimming, then raking and collecting all the cuttings which he then deposited deep inside the woods.  He didn’t finish until well after six.

       Friday was his first laundry day, and he found not only the two overflowing as usual laundry hampers, but two other full laundry bags leaning outside them, along with three plastic laundry baskets filled with dirty linens and towels.  He knew that he was never going to like or enjoy doing this particular job, but he vowed to himself to approach it with his usual professional efficiency and zeal.  After carrying it all down to the laundry room in the basement, he began first by sorting the colors from the whites, and the delicates from the wash and wear.  He then began an assembly line process with one group going into the washer, then into the dryer when done while the next load went into the washer, and then folding and putting away the first load as it came out of the dryer.  He continued this sequence throughout the entire afternoon, saving all the clothes that needed to be ironed to do the end.  Once again he didn’t finish until over an hour past his usual leaving time.

       

       On those first two days Rory hardly saw his employer, but over the next several weeks that began to slowly change.  She began to sometimes engage him in at least short conversations when their paths might cross, and she also began to grace him with more frequent smiles, some of the dazzling variety which would almost always  buckle his knees.  He also had the opportunity to observe her more often, which he tried to do as discreetly as possible, although she would occasionally catch him doing so, producing from her a different type of smile.  He grew to love the way that she would idly twist strands of her hair around her finger as she read from her computer screen, or would unconsciously chew on the eraser end of her pencil before jotting down some notes.  And, of course, how her sandal would dangle and bob from the edge of her foot as she keyboarded on her computer.

       This all served to heighten the yearning tension that was building within him more and more, day by day, which he tried to salve and dissipate with his ongoing trysts with his regulars.  He found himself enjoying those less and less however, unless while doing so he could imagine himself doing it with her.  When successful in that regard, his partners at the time could only assume that his increased energy and ardor must certainly be due to them.  But it couldn’t go on like this.  In some way, any way, he felt that he had to induce Rhianne to respond to his desire.  If not ... well ... he didn’t know what.

       Just as he was approaching the six month mark in her employ, as he was finishing up with that weeks’s laundry one Friday afternoon, Rhianne indicated that she wanted to speak to him.  After seating herself on her usual spot on the sofa, and he on the edge of the hassock, she began this time without any delay.

       “Rory, let me start again by saying how extraordinary and exemplary I continue to find all of your efforts here to be.”

       The same thrill as before coursed through him.

       “I really enjoy working for you, Ma’am.”

       An accepting smile.

       “I’m very glad to hear that.”

       Her face now became serious.

       “But I think that even you would have to admit that you’re extremely expensive, and at three times a week it’s causing a bit of a financial drain.”

       Now he felt a jab of concern.

       “And so I thought that we might find another way to compensate you for your services.”

       Rory’s heart began to hammer.  Could this be it?  His dreams with her finally coming to pass?  With all of the others it had always been an extra service he supplied when asked, for no additional charge except for the frequently offered bonuses or tips.  But for her ... for this ... he would happily consider a significant reduction in his regular rates.

       “What is it that you’re suggesting Ma’am?” he put forth cautiously

       She gave him a very discerning smile.

       “I believe that I read people very well Rory.  It’s a very important part of what I do for a living.  And I think I have truly come to understand you, the real you, and what you really want and need.”

       Oh please let that be true, he pleaded within.

       “I’ve seen your hints and unraveled your clues, and have come to the firm conclusion that instead of giving you a check like this every week,” she said, holding it up for him to see, “I propose a very different recompense for your services.”  She now offered him a most inviting smile,  “Every Friday, when you’re done with your work for the week, I will reward you with a gift of myself   by allowing you to ...” She paused once more, as he held his breath,

       

       “... kiss my foot.”

       

       Rory felt as if all of that breath had been driven out of him.  Was this a joke?  She couldn’t be serious, could she?  There was no possible way.

       Her voice became stern

       “But you must understand Rory that this offer is non negotiable.  If you do not feel that it would be payment enough for your efforts here, then I will give you your check for this week and we will part ways amicably.  For good.”

       A surge of panic shot through him.  This was all beyond the pale.  How could she even believe.  Almost of their own volition his eyes strayed to her crossed leg and then down to her foot, where her pump dangled from her toes so enchantingly.

       “Well Rory, what do you say?”

       Unable to force his eyes away, his mind struggled furiously to find a way to phrase his refusal.  But his mouth, directed entirely from somewhere else deep within him, as if without any conscious control, uttered forth one barely audible word.

       “Feet.” he whispered.

       “What was that, I couldn’t quite hear.” she responded.

       Still seemingly independent of his brain, his voice grew stronger,  though still ragged and hoarse.

       “Feet.” he repeated.  “I be allowed to kiss both of your feet.”

       She laughed, a delighted and delightful, completely uninhibited laugh, which sounded to him as if it came from heaven itself.  He jerked his eyes upward to be greeted by one of her dazzling smiles.

       “I said that there would be no negotiations, but I do think that we can accommodate that.  Okay then Rory, are we in agreement?” she asked pleasantly.  “That as full compensation and reward for all of your work and weekly service here, on Fridays when you’re done you will be allowed the honor and privilege of kissing BOTH of my feet.”

       

       This time he could only nod.

       “Fabulous.  I’m so pleased that we were able to work this out.  I didn’t want to lose you.  And to celebrate I feel that we should start right away by ripping up this check, don’t you think?”

       

       Again, only a nod.

       With a triumphant smile she lifted up the check and tore it in two.  As she did so he felt as if a long held facade to his inner self and core was being ripped open as well, and that he was now exposed and laid bare before her.

       Rhianne uncrossed her leg and let her dangling pump fall to the floor.  She then extended her foot forward, pointing it directly at his very being.  As if drawn by a magnet Rory rose off the hassock, took two unsteady steps, and fell to his knees before her.

       He gazed down at her still pointed foot.  Its perfectly pedicured and painted toenails and smooth slim beauty captivated and commanded him onward, and he knew without any doubt at that moment that he was exactly where he belonged.  He reached down and cupped her heel in one hand and cushioned her sole with his other, and slowly leaned down to bring his lips delicately to the top of her foot. 

       It was so soft.  And its scent, a hint of her lavender foot creme with a touch of leather left behind by her pump, all mixed with that of her own moisture, was totally intoxicating.  He let his lips linger as long as he dared, finally lowering her first foot to the floor, and then took up her second, bringing his face down to worship that one as well.

       This time he did not have the strength to end the communion, and it was Rhianne who finally broke the contact, gently pulling her foot down to the floor.  She then slipped both of her feet back into her pumps and stood up in front and above him.

       “I’ll see you Monday afternoon ... houseboy.”

       With that she walked away.

       

       Rory, unmoving and still bowed forward, his knees as if rooted to the ground, his eyes continuing to stare at the spot on the floor where her feet had just been, remained behind.

       Utterly enthralled.         

       

        

           

         

       

       

       

 

1Houseboy For Hire, Part Two

       For the next several weeks Rory worked and lived as if nothing had changed.  But of course everything had.  His income had been cut by over a quarter, but for reasons he couldn’t yet fully comprehend he still felt as if he had come out ahead of the game.  This was not only due to his Friday afternoon reward, which continued to be as electric as the very first, but also be because Rhianne began gifting him with longer conversations and more frequent smiles.  Of all varieties.

        He was becoming more wired every day that he was there, and more on edge whenever he wasn’t.  Almost of necessity he continued his now even more vigorous couplings with his regulars, and having to spend ever more frequent ‘special’ times with his one hand, especially on Friday nights after he would leave.

       One Friday afternoon, about a month into their new arrangement, after he had completed his day’s work washing and drying, then ironing, folding and putting all that week’s laundry away, he sat on the edge of the living room hassock anxiously but patiently awaiting her arrival for his weekly reward.  When she finally entered he was surprised to see her in her exercise outfit, having apparently just finished a work out, which she rarely did in the afternoons and never before on a Friday.

       “Rory, I’m sorry,” she began, “I had a very important deadline to meet for my work today so I pushed my workout back to this afternoon, completely forgetting about your reward, and now I’m sweaty, tired, and my feet ache because I ran a lot longer and harder on the treadmill today than usual.  So if you’d rather postpone your reward until Monday, I’ll understand.”

       “No!” he exclaimed ... “Please Ma’am, I’d rather not.”  He paused a moment.  “But if your feet ache, I’d be more than happy to help out and massage them for you first.”

       “Why, what a lovely idea.” she acknowledged with one of her dazzling smiles.  “I think I would like that very much.”

       She immediately made her way over to the sofa, sat down and settled back into it and extended one of her legs out in his direction,  parallel to the floor.  He scurried off the hassock onto his knees in front of her, unlaced and took off first the offered running shoe, and then bent down and did the same for the other.  He followed that by removing both of her sweaty socks, and took her first foot back into his hands.  It was indeed warm and damp.  He began to slowly knead her sole firmly and deeply with his thumbs, beginning with her heel, working his way all around and into her arch, then to the ball of her foot before paying prolonged and special attention to each of her toes.  He then performed the same service to her other foot, alternating the deep circular pressure of his thumbs on her soles, with lighter strokings with his other fingers along the tops.

       During the entire time Rhianne lay back comfortably with her head resting on the back of the couch pillow and remained silent except for some contented sighs and murmurs as Rory continued the process a number of more times with each foot.  Finally, after about thirty minutes, she sat up, placing both of her feet on the floor.

       “That was truly heavenly, Rory.  I think I would very much like to have you do that more often.”

       “It would be my very great pleasure any time Ma’am.”

       “I do believe I’m going to take you up on that on a regular basis.” she responded.  She then leaned back and lifted one of her feet in front of his face, that bottom facing him.  “Take as much time as you wish with your reward tonight, houseboy.  You’ve earned it.”

       Rory hesitated only a moment before burying his face into her sole.  He found that her foot’s normal scent, now mixed with her workout sweat, while different, was every bit as intoxicating as always.  Holding it pressed there for more than a few seconds he then followed the pathway of his massage, placing his lips softly around her heel and slowly kissing and lightly licking his way up the side and instep to the ball, and then offering his adoration to the bottoms of each of her toes.  He continued his homage around to the tops of her toes and foot, and then paid the same veneration to her other foot. 

       Finally, overwhelmed and overwrought and unable to speak, he took his leave from her in silence, barely able to acknowledge her parting ‘goodnight’.  Upon arriving home that night he had to spend more than one ‘special’ moment with his hand. He didn’t know how much longer he could continue on like this, only that he must.

       Rhianne’s foot massages became a regular and ritual beginning to Rory’s weekly Friday evening reward, and while the massages remained as extensive, his reward returned to its original form.  She never again exercised immediately before but she enjoyed having her feet massaged nonetheless, to help relieve the stresses of her work week she would say.  There was rarely any conversation as he went about his ministrations.  She would just lean back, close her eyes and relax as he worked his tactile magic.  One afternoon however she surprised him just as he was beginning his task by asking him about himself.

       “You’ve been working here for me for over half a year and I hardly know anything about you.” she explained pleasantly

       As elated inside as he was at her interest, he was trying to be honest when he replied, “There isn’t much to know Ma’am.”

       “Oh I can’t believe that.  Tell me about your family.”

       He bowed his head for a moment and then looked up at her.  He had never discussed this with any of his clients.  “I was adopted from an orphanage at age ten.  I’ve never been able to find out anything about my real parents.  I think my adoptive parents looked at me as a way to rekindle some interest in their own marriage without any of the messy work of taking care of an infant.”  He let out a breath.  “Anyway, it didn’t work out.  My adoptive mother left when I was twelve and I’ve never seen her since.”

       “Rory, I’m so sorry.”

       “There’s no need to be.  There was never much between us.  After the divorce my adoptive father kept me with him.  He wasn’t a bad sort, just that his work took up most of his time, so it kind of fell to me to take care of the house for us both.  That’s how I learned to do everything that I do now, so I guess it turned out okay.  He died just after I finished high school, but he left me enough money to put myself through college.”

       “What did you study there?”

       “I graduated with a degree in finance but afterwards I had little interest in the field except in managing my own business, and as housekeeping was one thing that I know how to do very well, and even liked, I decided to give it a go as a livelihood.  And so far ...”

       “You’ve done very well with it.  Which is no surprise because you’re so very good at it.”

       “Thank you Ma’am”

       “It’s only the truth.” she stated emphatically.  “Anyway then, what about a girlfriend?” she asked, changing directions completely and  causing his heart to skip a beat.  “Is there anyone special out there?”

       “No” he admitted truthfully as he continued to rub her feet.  “I’ve never had one.”

       Her lips curved up in a smile.

       “That’s even more difficult for me to believe.  I suspect that you have to fight off women all the time.”

       His heart skipped another beat.  Maybe this was the opportunity that he had been waiting for so long.  To let her know that he was available to her for any more intimate activities that she might desire other than housework.  Was that where she was leading this?  He just had to take the plunge.

       “I do have some more personal arrangements with a few of my lady clients.” he began cautiously.

       Rhianne sat up straighter.

       

       “What do you mean?”

       He couldn’t help but notice the change in tone.

       “We get to spend some ‘special’ time together sometimes while I’m there with them.” he tried to explain.

       She now pulled her foot out of his hands and set it firmly on the floor.

       “Are you trying to tell me that you have sex ... intercourse ... with some of your employers?”

       He could see now that he had made a serious miscalculation, from which he had to somehow recoup.

       “It’s not like that at all Ma’am.  They approach me and I just ...”

       “You’re just all too happy to prey upon their weaknesses to get your own satisfaction, aren’t you,  How could you do something like that?”  She said, clearly distressed.  Then, almost to herself.  “With somebody who isn’t the ‘One’.”  She shuddered.  “It’s disgusting.”

       A look of horror crossed her face.

       “And I bet you thought that you were going to add me to your list of conquests, didn’t you?”

       “No, I, well ... “ he stammered, lost.

       “Oh, this is just too much.  I can’t stomach any more.  I can’t have someone like you in my house, under my roof, under any circumstances.  You have to get out.  NOW.  And don’t ever come back.”

       This time it was a wave of terror that washed through him.  Now, being on his knees as he was seemed the most appropriate place to be.

       “No Ma’am, please, you don’t understand.  None of that means anything to me.  I can stop.  I WILL stop.  Just let me stay on here.  PLEASE.”

       “How can you say that?  Men like you never change.  You don’t know how to keep it in your pants.  You’ll never learn.”

       “But I can and will, I swear to you.  I’ll stop with all of them, and never do anything like that again.”

       “Easy words.  How would I ever know?  You can say anything, promise anything, but how would I ever be able to trust your word, or anything about you at all after this.”

       “Give me a chance Ma’am.  How can I prove myself to you?  I’ll do anything, please.” he exclaimed.

       She sat back in silence, scrutinizing him intently for many long, agonizing moments.  Finally,

       “There may be a way, but I’m not sure it’s worth my time and effort to go down that path.”

       “Please ma’am.” he pleaded.

       “I’m going to take the night to think about this, and what I may need to do if I decide to proceed.”  She nodded to herself.  “Come back here tomorrow afternoon.  About 2, and I’ll give you my decision.  And houseboy,” she continued and concluded, “ whatever I decide, it will be final, with no change of mind.  Do you understand?”

       “I understand, Ma’am.  I’ll be here exactly at 2.  Thank you.”

       “Good.  Now please leave.”

       

       Rory was frantic after he left.  How could he have made such a mistake.  And more importantly, what could he do to convince her to keep him on, and what would he do if she decided otherwise.  He acknowledged to himself the absurdity of the situation, what all he was now offering to give up just to be allowed to work and toil for her for free.  It made absolutely no sense.  But deep within himself he understood.  He was besotted with her, and would do almost anything to be near her, to be allowed to do things for her.  His Friday evening ritual and reward continued to completely entrance him.  If that, and her occasional compliments and fleeting smiles were all that she was ever willing to bestow, it would still make any and all activities with his regulars which he was now willing to forego an extremely small price to pay.  And he would still always have his hand.

       His first order of business when he arrived home at his apartment was to call Mrs Thompson for whom he was scheduled to work on Saturday afternoon.  He reached her on his cell phone and told her that something urgent had come up and he wouldn’t be able to come the next day.

       “But my husband is finally going to play golf tomorrow.” she groaned in response.

       “I’m really sorry Mrs T, but this is a very important appointment that I just can’t afford to miss.”

       “You’re really starting to piss me off, do you know that, Rory.”  He heard her take a deep breath over the phone.  “Oh well, I guess I’ll just have to try to get him to play again next Saturday.”

       He didn’t have the strength to tell her that if everything went as he prayed the next day they wouldn’t have to worry about her husband’s golf games any time soon.

       “Thanks, Mrs T.  I really appreciate it.  I’ll be there next Saturday, I promise.”

       That issue out of the way, he began a restless and fretful night.  He could hardly contemplate the possibility of her rejection.  She just had to believe, had to see his sincerity, and accept his vow.  He just couldn’t see any other way.  In the end he knew that he had nothing else to offer and that he would just have to anxiously await her judgement.

       

       He arrived at her front door precisely at 2pm the next day.  He didn’t dare to enter using his key.  That would be far too presumptuous considering the circumstances.  He also didn’t want to chance annoying her by ringing the doorbell.  He settled for a cautious, even tentative knock, hoping it would be heard, but not in any way thought to be insistent.

       He waited for well over three minutes, wondering, as he had the very first time, whether he should gamble and repeat the knock.  Before he could summon the courage to do so, Rhianne opened the door.  She regarded him dispassionately for several moments before turning and walking away without a word.  She left the door open behind so he assumed that he was meant to follow.  As they arrived in the living room they both took their usual places, she on the sofa and he on the hassock.  She began without any preamble.

       “I thought long and hard about this situation for the entire evening last night, and it wasn’t easy or very much fun I want you to know.”  She paused.  “I continue to find your admitted activities repulsive and reprehensible.  I said yesterday that men who act like that will never change, and can never learn.”  She glared at him cooly.  “But perhaps I’m wrong.  Maybe they can never do so on their own, but perhaps if they’re taught...”  She paused again and this time shrugged.  “So I’ve decided to offer you a choice, houseboy.”

       “I’ll do anything Ma’am.” he declared.

       “I wouldn’t be too hasty about that until you’ve heard it all out.” she rebuked.

       “Yes Ma’am.”   He responded meekly.

       “I’ve spent the entire morning looking for and was finally able to procure the necessary teaching and training tool.” she continued.  She reached over and picked up a brown paper bag that was sitting on the end table.  She opened the bag and took out what was within and held it up for him to see.  It was a short, hollow plastic tube with plastic rings at the end and a tiny padlock attached to the base.

       “Do you know what this is?” she asked.

       With a sinking and horrified feeling he thought he did.  Still ...

       “I ... I’m not sure Ma’am.”

       “It’s a chastity device.  As the name implies, when it is put on and locked in the appropriate place it will not come off unless removed by the keyholder.  I would also consider it a security device, for my protection while you’re here, and for everyone else when you’re not.”

       “But how would I ... pee?’ was the only thing he could think to stammer.

       She laughed, but without much mirth.

       “I wouldn’t worry too much about that.  There’s a hole at the end, although it might take some creative maneuvering for the correct aim, but I’m sure you’ll be able to handle that.  It will only be removed once a week, under my direct supervision, for its cleaning.  And yours.  At all other times it will be locked in place to ensure your ongoing education in good and proper behavior.”  She stopped to allow his full comprehension, and then continued.  “This is the condition and your choice for your continued employment here.  I will ask only once.  Do you accept.”

       He sat there, stunned.  It was preposterous.  This was beyond anything he could have conceived.  But she had conceived.  To ensure and teach him good and proper behavior she had said.  And he had vowed that he would do anything.  Of course there were things that he would and could never do, but was this one of them?  She sat there waiting silently for his answer.  It was impossible.  He bowed his head and gave the only one that he was able.

       “Yes Ma’am.” he answered in a low and vanquished voice.

       Rhianne let out a long, low breath.  Had she expected him to refuse?  He didn’t know.

       “Alright then.”  She finally retorted.  “We might as well get started right away.  Come here and stand in front of me and drop your pants and undies to the floor.”

       Rory did as he was told.  Within seconds both were crumpled around his ankles.  Despite his massive embarrassment and humiliation he couldn’t stop his manhood from rising to full attention before her.

       “Impressive.” she murmured.  “But it won’t do for our purposes.”  She reached forward and took his testicles in a firm, prolonged and uncomfortable grip, twisting until he wilted in response.  She then threaded one of his balls and then the other through one of the rings of the device, and then eased his now shrunken appendage within the length of the plastic tube.  It just fit.  She then locked them all together with the tiny padlock at the base.

       “There you are now, all snug and secure.” she said.  “As I said before, it will only be taken off once a week for cleaning, let’s make it on Wednesdays after you’ve finished a long, hard day of work outside.  This is the only key and it will be kept in the drawer of the table here, to be used only then, or for the most dire of emergencies.  Believe me, I will know if it is ever used otherwise.”

       She gave him a reassuring smile.  “You should go now and use the rest of the weekend to become better acquainted with your new friend.  I’ll expect you back on Monday afternoon.”

       

       She stood up and left the room.  Thus dismissed, Rory pulled up his pants over his new ‘friend’ and departed as instructed.

       The first and foremost thing that he discovered almost immediately about his new situation was that while not exactly painful, how uncomfortable it was to become excited in the appliance, a frequent occurrence when he was with her, and sometimes even more so when just thinking about her.  His member would strain and press mightily against the walls of his plastic prison but would always remain frustratingly stunted.  The second thing that that he learned was that it did indeed take a number of messy practices to perfect his aim on his calls to nature.

       

       A further and difficult order of business was to inform his regulars of the new circumstances.  He told them all that he was now involved in a serious relationship to which he felt it necessary to remain solely dedicated.  While disappointed, most of them understood and even expressed a degree of happiness for him.  Except for Mrs Thompson, who felt that she had been continuously played by him, and fired him on the spot.  Another significant loss of revenue.  Somehow though, this no longer seemed so important.

       As time then moved forward, nothing on the surface about his new situation appeared to affect him in a negative manner.  On the contrary, with his enormous energy below now held in check and throttled, he found that his focus in other activities greatly heightened.  While he had never stinted in his professional duties he now performed them with increased diligence and vigor, for all of his clients but most especially for her.  It was hard for any of them not to notice.  It was during the nighttimes though, when he was alone and had no other activities to channel his growing tensions, that he strained and chafed both physically and mentally as his thoughts almost always ranged on her.  Often, such as during his Friday evening ritual and reward which she still allowed, it was a sweet agony, but it was always agony nonetheless.

       Every Wednesday when he was finished with his outside labors for the day, as per instructions he would fetch a basin of water and soap, two wash towels, and one larger one for drying, and bring them to here where Rhianne waited in the living room seated on the edge of her couch.  At her beckoning he would stand in front of her and lower both of his pants to the floor around his ankles.  She would then take the key from the end table drawer and unlock and remove the device and hand it to him to wash and clean, while she attended to his cleansing.

       She was never gentle with her scrubbing, in large part to keep his excitement from growing too much during these brief periods of freedom.  When this was not completely successful, a firm, uncomfortable squeeze and twist in the right place served to help keep him soft and pliant.  All too quickly, and always far too soon for him, he was being dried off and re encased in his cage.  The key was then carefully put back in the drawer in a position only she could see, and he was sent on his way for the day.

       

       But the tension continued to grow, and one Wednesday, almost six weeks after his captivity had begun, just as she finished roughly drying him and was preparing to re imprison him, he could stand it no more and fell to his knees before her.

       “Ma’am, please ...” he pleaded.

       Taken a bit aback, she stared down at him long and hard for an uncomfortably prolonged time.  Finally her face softened and she sighed.

       “I guess men do have their needs, if only for the maintenance of their health.” 

       She paused a moment more, then,

       “You may touch yourself, Rory.”

       With a soft moan of gratitude he brought up a shaky hand and lightly encircled his already stiff and standing manhood.  Oh, after so long it felt so good.  If only ...

       “You may stroke it.” she continued.

       Oh God yes.  He began to slowly run his fingers, feather softly, up and down his shaft.  He so wanted to savor this but soon, almost of their own volition, his fingers tightened and the pace quickened, as did his breathing.  Before long he was pumping and groaning furiously, and he knew that he was so close.  But just as instinctively he knew ...

       “Please Ma’am, please ... may I ... please.” he panted plaintively.

       

       She remained silent for several moments as he strove mightily to hold back.  Finally ...

       “Yes, you may spew.  But don’t you dare make a mess.  Catch every bit of it.  If even a drop falls on my rug there’ll be hell to pay”

       Permission gloriously granted he brought his other hand up in front of him, and with a few more vigorous strokes ...

       

       He erupted.  Great gouts of jism spurted forth in wave after wave into his waiting hand, accompanied by his helpless guttural grunting.  It went on and on, for how long he could never guess as he continued to pump and squeeze until the waves became driblets and then last drops, none spilling from his hand.  He slumped back onto his heels.

       Rory had masturbated innumerable times in his life, and had had intercourse with more than a few women, but never had the experience been so intense ... so draining ... as what had just occurred.  All beneath her discerning gaze.  Totally spent and in a daze, all he could do was stare at the huge pearly puddle in his palm.  It was Rhianne who finally broke the silence.

       “I suppose that we’ll now have to allow this from time to time.” she opined, “if only, as I’ve said , for health purposes.”  She then looked down at the contents in his hand.  “Dispose of that.” she ordered, “and come right back.  It’s long past time to get you back into your security.”

       Obediently, he did as she said.

       True to her word, Rhianne did allow him further relief from time to time.  Rory quickly discovered however that unlike the first time, any pleadings on his part or even just subtle hints of his need and desire, proved counterproductive.  He was granted release only at times of her choosing and whim, always under her watchful eye, and always every bit as electric and all consuming.

       He found himself doing more and more for her outside his contracted duties and chores, not because he was trying to curry her favor for any extra ‘special’ events, but because he was getting increasing pleasure from doing so.  Without her asking he began to regularly wash and polish her car.  He took it upon himself to plant and then meticulously tend to a large flower garden in her front yard.  After work hours he would shop for her, at first just for household items he needed for his work there, but before long he was buying her groceries as well.  Rhianne always made sure to reimburse him for all the expenditures, but soon she was also drawing up regular shopping lists of things for him to buy.

       On his own he frequently began to buy flowers ... for her.  He was afraid, and did not think that it was appropriate or his place to personally give them to her, so he would put them in vases and place them in a variety of spots around the house.  His heart would leap when, unnoticed, he would spy her in front of one, bending forward to smell as a smile would come to her lips.

       One Friday evening during her foot massage she lamented, almost to herself, on the state of her nails, and that because she had been so busy recently with her work she hadn’t had the time to visit the salon.

       “Teach me how to do it, Ma’am.” he impulsively offered.  “To save you the time and effort of going there.  And the expense.  I know I can do it.  I’m a fast learner.”

       She took a few moments to ponder, then, “I know you are.  Why not.” she concluded.  “And we might as well start the lessons right now.”  

       She directed him as to where to find all the necessary items and within minutes he was back with a large basin of warm scented water, two towels, a pumice stone, a bottle of nail polish remover, a bag of cotton balls, and finally her own personal choice of midnight blue nail polish.

       After setting them all down carefully as she settled into the easy chair with her legs propped on the hassock, he arranged himself comfortably on his knees before her.  She first instructed him on the use of the pumice stone and how to pare away any dead skin and smooth down any calluses.  This was followed by his thoroughly removing all of the old polish on her nails with cotton balls doused with the acetone remover.  She then soaked both of her feet in the scented water before removing them for him to dry and then guiding him on how to clip and file all of her nails.  When this was finally accomplished she had him put cotton balls between all of her toes and begin the slow and meticulous process of painting them all.  He couldn’t help his slightly trembling fingers, but when he was finally finished he added his own inspiration of softly blowing on them to help them dry.

       It was far from a perfect job, but as a first effort she deemed it satisfactory and declared that she was sure that he would improve with further practice.  And he did so, rapidly, and it soon became another of his regular duties, no longer requiring her monitoring as she would comfortably sit in her easy chair, her legs outstretched on the hassock, and  work on the computer on her lap as he on his knees attended to her toes.

       This wasn’t the only personal service he came to be called on to perform.  One late Monday afternoon, just as he was finishing his dusting in the dining room she came in and told him that she had had a very tense and trying day at work on the computer and would he mind massaging the tight muscles in her neck for a bit.  Fighting back the urge to say that not only wouldn’t he mind but that he would crawl on his belly for such an opportunity, he merely said, “With pleasure Ma’am.”

       So very well practiced from his weekly work on the soles of her feet, he dug his thumbs and fingers expertly into the taut muscles of her neck and shoulders.  He could feel them relax and almost melt under his kneading, and it didn’t take much coaxing on his part to convince her to allow him to manage the same magic on her upper and lower back.  While this did not become a routine part of his work schedule, she did not hesitate from frequently requesting it of him whenever she felt the need.

       Seeing now how hard she was working and the toll that it sometimes seemed to take, he took it upon himself to begin bringing her snacks and a hot cup of tea in the mid afternoons when he was there.  The first time that he did so she looked up at him crossly and chided him sharply for the interruption, but she quickly came to appreciate and even savor these breaks.

       He also noticed more often on his arrival that she was frequently neglecting lunch, so on those days he started making one for her and insisting that she eat.  She agreed to do so only after herself insisting that he make some for himself and join her.  It was during these times that she first began to open up to him about herself.  From these conversations he gathered enough hints to surmise that she was a writer, though of what he could not deduce.  She was more forthcoming about how well traveled she had been at one time, although she no longer did so because the requirements and effort of traveling alone had grown too tiresome.  He wondered to himself why someone like her would ever have to travel alone, but he never dared ask.  In any event, she would say, she would probably like to travel again some day when circumstances might be different.

       By her account she had countless contacts on the web, but apparently few friends locally, some of whom she would occasionally visit, or who would more rarely visit her here.  Except for an infrequent trip into the city, or a quick drive to a store, she didn’t venture out much any more.  Her work had become her life and that, she had stated, was enough for her.  But he had a strong sense that she was also waiting for something.  For what, he didn’t know.

       As the first year anniversary of his employment with her came and passed, unremarked upon by her but clearly marked by him, Rory conceded to himself that he had settled into a strangely comfortable routine.  Seventy percent of his work week was still with his other clients and this was where his income was generated.  Though significantly less that what it once been, it was still enough for him to get by.  It was during the other thirty percent however, despite the many constraints both physical and mental, where he found his most purpose and fulfillment.  While he still would occasionally fantasize that she might someday want more from him ... free, he now accepted that this was never likely to happen.  She just saw him as her jack ... or make that her ... servant-of-all-trades.  But as long as she had some need for him, it would have to be enough.  He still had his business and the freedom, with one obvious encumbrance, of his nights and weekends.  And most importantly he still had his Friday evening ritual and reward, which as always continued to captivate and entrance.  He had become ... oddly ... content.

       It was several weeks later that Rhianne surprised him by meeting him at the door as he arrived one Friday afternoon.  She had never done so before, and he became even more concerned that for the first time he could ever remember she appeared distressed.

       

       “We have to talk.” was all she said as she turned and led him one more time into her living room.  This time though she waited until he, upon her direction, sat himself down on the edge of the hassock before she took her own place on the couch.  He couldn’t help but notice how unsettled , even nervous, she continued to be as she looked up and down at her hands, and his own anxiety began to rise.  An uncomfortable silence seemed to stretch on for an eternity before she looked up at him with a sense of resolve.

       “Rory, you’ve been working here for me for over a year now and you’ve done everything and anything that I’ve ever asked of you, and you’ve always performed beyond my highest expectations.”

       Once again he basked in the glow of her praise but this time with a knot of concern in his gut.

       “But over the past few weeks, even months, I’ve struggled a great deal with thoughts and issues, and I’ve finally come to an understanding and conclusion.”  She looked down at her hands again, and then back up.

        “Rory, I need more.” she declared fiercely.

       Rory strove vainly to hold himself in check.  Could this really be happening after all this time and so many disappointments?  Did she now finally want him, as he had never ceased to dream, released and free for more personal use?  He was almost too afraid to ask.

       “What is it that you want, Ma’am?”

       She didn’t answer right away, once again seeming very uncertain.  Looking down at her hands one more time she took a deep breath, looked up and rushed forth with increasing fervor.

       “I need someone here for me full time, not just a meager three afternoons a week ... someone to be at my beck and call 24/7 ... 365 ... to always be here for my every want and whim.”  Another deep breath.  “And Rory, I’d very much like that someone to be you.”

       Rory actually physically rocked back.  If she had surprised, even shocked him in the past with her proposals, this time he was completely knocked off his pins.  His practical and pragmatic self, the part of him that had always been in control, and had governed all his actions and life until he had met her, was the first to regain equilibrium and respond.

       “But how could I earn a living?” he countered in some desperation.  “How would I support myself?”

       She laughed.  Her delighted laugh.  And it somewhat lessened the tension that had enveloped them both.

       “Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that.”  She answered lightly.  “You will be well kept.  I’m more than well enough off financially to possess you.”

       

       She grew very serious again.

       “But understand Rory,” she continued much more sternly.  “This is a one time, take it or leave it offer.  If you don’t feel that you’re capable ...” more quietly,  “... if it’s not what you want ... “ a sigh, “ ... then we’ll say goodbye, and I’ll begin to look for someone else.”   A final inhalation.  “What do you say?”

       What could he say?  His pragmatic self strove strenuously to reassert its dominance and say it was impossible and out of the question, but as he looked up into her now impassive and implacable face, behind it, in her eyes, he saw a yearning, a vulnerability, even a fear.  What could she ever have to be afraid of?  His rejection?  That could never be.  And the part of him that had been so deeply hidden for so long, that she had exposed and brought to the light, that she had so carefully and fully nurtured and molded, the real Rory, now understood and asserted its rightful place.   He would be her rock, her foundation, her stepping stone back into the world, to be and do whatever she wanted and needed, serving and protecting and always being there for her as she continued to search for whatever it was that she was waiting.  That she might only want of him to be her beast of burden no longer mattered.  It would be his life and his joy, and what he was meant to be.

       “I’m yours.” was all he could say.

       Perhaps it was that he hadn’t said so immediately, or maybe that she didn’t, wouldn’t, couldn’t truly believe.

       “Prove it.” she demanded harshly.  “Take out your phone and call them ... call them all and tell them that you’re not going back, that you’re never going back.  Call them right now.”

       Rory took out his cell and under her glare he called each and every one of his clients.  He told them all that he had just been offered the opportunity of a lifetime and that he had no choice but to take it, and that he would thus no longer be able to work for them.  With each call his conviction and certainty grew, as did her smile, so that as he finished his last call it was the most dazzling one with which she had ever graced him.  It was done.  He was now solely hers.

       Her smile now became more serene.

       “With your new position there will of course be some new responsibilities.” she informed him after a few moments.  “And certain new privileges as well.”  Her eyes sparkled.  “Take off your clothes, houseboy, and lie down on the floor.”

       In less than a minute, save for his device Rory lay naked on his back on the ground before her.  She rose off the couch and in his full view slowly took off her top, followed by her bra, and for the first time ever he was allowed to regard her bare and luscious breasts.  She slipped off her bottoms and towered above him as her naked beauty took his breath away.

       

       She allowed him some seconds to savor, and couldn’t suppress a low throaty chuckle watching him squirm and groan as his manhood  involuntarily squashed against the walls of its unforgiving confines.  She moved to stand with her feet straddling his upturned face as she looked down the length of his magnificent body.  Slowly she began to lower herself, opening and bringing her treasure closer and closer until her knees came to rest on either side of his chest, her trove mere inches above his mouth.

       

       “Make me happy, houseboy.” was all she said as she completed the journey onto his waiting lips.

       Her scent was sublime, but as his tongue began to flick out onto her most precious gem her taste was even sweeter.  He kept his licking light at first, sending small shivers through her before he moved somewhat more insistently deeper into her vault, eliciting within her even greater jolts of joy.  After some time he ventured further back to her nethermost bud, feeling her tense above as if she had never expected his attention there, but she soon relaxed and offered up that orifice as well for more copious laving, bringing forth in her waves of a different sense of pleasure.  Stiffening his tongue he finally eased forward once again to her more cherished opening, thrusting it within rapidly as she began to sway and then buck furiously above. Pounding up and down on his buried face she felt herself rising higher and higher, slowly giving way until with an inarticulate cry she arched back and her juices gushed forth below in a fury, bathing his tongue, lips, mouth and face as he continued to lap with unrestrained ardor, attempting to imbibe as much of her exquisite nectar as he was able.  Her passion finally subsided and she slumped forward to bring her head to rest on his belly, as her slit remained firmly planted on his lips, with his nose buried between her buttocks cheeks.

       How long they remained as such he was never sure, but eventually he felt her stir, sit up, and to his shock begin to manipulate his cage.  Suddenly, incredibly, he was free, as she rose off of him and repositioned herself sitting astride on his belly in front of his already risen and upright member as she gazed down upon his face.

       “That was very nice, but I think this is going to be even better.” she said.  She then leaned forward so that her own face was just inches above his and practically hissed.

       “You’re mine and mine only, houseboy.  For me and me alone.  I OWN you.”

       “Forever.” he replied.

       Her face softened as did her voice.

       

       “You’re the ‘One’ Rory.  The One I’ve been waiting for so long.  You’ll always be the One.”

       She bent forward and down and kissed him, long and hard, tasting him and herself on his lips, savoring it fully as their tongues danced together joyously.  Finally, reluctantly, but with even greater anticipation,  she pulled  away and lifted herself up and positioned herself over his ready and willing spear.  “Enter me.  Now.” she said

               

       She was still very wet , but so very tight as he slowly worked his way up, and she down, until he was finally fully within, and they both gasped together in pleasure.  She began to rock back and forth cautiously and he responded in pace, both growing more rapid and bold, and before long each threw caution to the wind, thrusting unrelentingly upon and within each other, grabbing and stroking and clawing and screaming at each other before they both exploded ...together, their essences pouring forth unrestrained to surge and join and mingle in ecstatic unity until neither had any ability to give or accept more.  Finally, both of them thoroughly spent, she slid off and to his side and nestled her head upon his shoulder and chest.

       They lay together like that for uncounted time before Rhianne finally roused herself and sat up crossed legged beside him.

       “That was unbelievably wonderful, Rory.” she purred, caressing his face softly with the back of her hand.  “I think that you’re going to make me very, very happy.”

       “Always.” he vowed.

       “Yes.  Indeed.” she concurred.

       She gathered herself up and began to collect her clothes.  “I think it’s time for you to get up and get dressed now, houseboy.  You still have a lot of laundry to do today.”

       He remained lying there, confused.

       “What about my cage?” he asked.

       She laughed once again, a sound he knew that he could never get enough of.

       “Oh, I don’t think I’ll be needing that anymore.” she said.  She looked down and saw his perplexed expression.  “Unless of course, You want it.”

       It took him only a moment to understand and decide.

       “I think I do.” he answered.

       She nodded and smiled knowingly.

       “Alright then, go and clean yourself up and then come back and we’ll put it back on.  For the time being.” she added.

       As he hurried on to comply with her command, Rory marveled at the enormity of what all had just transpired.  It was so far beyond what he could have ever imagined or dreamed.  But he knew that there was one more thing that he had to do ... as soon as possible.  Right after she reapplied his cage, the tangible symbol of her ownership.  For the time being she had said ...that she didn’t need it anymore.  Perhaps with time he wouldn’t need it either.

       But he had to get to a computer right away.  Maybe she would allow him to use hers once he explained the purpose.  He had a listing he needed to delete.

       

       He was no longer a Houseboy for Hire.

       He was now a Houseboy for Life.

       And he couldn’t be happier.