It's hard to say when Annie's attraction to me really started, but it was clear by our second semester at Greendale that it was becoming difficult for her to hide it.  She's an absolute sweetheart, and her naivete made her attempts to suppress or conceal her emotions somewhat transparent.  I gotta admit I was flattered, but I just really couldn't see us really being together.  It was kind of an awkward situation, but she's a smart girl and I figured if I was honest with her, she would understand my disinterest and move on.  What I never anticipated was the depth of her feelings for me.

I made one major mistake in my attempts to resolve the situation cleanly.  One night, me and Annie were cramming at my apartment for a Spanish final into the wee hours.  Stressed out from the intense studying, we decided to unwind with a few glasses of wine at the end of the night.  I'm really not sure how it happened, but she made a move and we made out.  It only took me about a minute to come to my senses and pull away but I could immediately see the infatuation in her eyes.  I decided the best route was to be honest, and immediately explained to her how I felt.

I really do like Annie-- she's one of the rare people that genuinely seem to care about how others are feeling.  In a lot of ways, I wish I was more like Annie.  And she is kinda sexy... but there was really just no way I could envision any kind of relationship developing between us.  A girlfriend-girlfriend relationship was out of the question-- even now I'm just not ready to be known publicly as a lesbian.  I personally don't have a problem with it, but once you get that "gay" label people tend to treat you differently.  No one would bother trying to understand the subtleties of bisexuality.  It bothers me that I care so much about what other people think, but the fact is I want respect, not attention.  Being known as the "cute lesbo" would probably increase my popularity, but it would also be much harder to get people to take me seriously.

While the idea of a "friends with benefits" type relationship had it's attractions, the secrecy just didn't seem worth it for the occasional hook-up.  I have to admit, I worried about people in our study group picking up on something.  If anyone figured it out, the awkwardness could jeopardize our friendships.  I explained all this to her, and told her that I was sorry but we couldn't be together, in any way.  She was clearly crushed.  I felt awful and I tried to tell her I was sorry, but polite Annie pretended it wasn't a big deal.  She was fighting back tears and came up with an excuse to leave.  I tried to give her a hug but she high-tailed it out of there as quick as she could.

I felt terrible and started to worry about the future of our friendship-- what if she couldn't handle it?  What if she decided it would be best for her to change schools?  That's probably what I would do if I got rejected by someone I was in love with.  I told myself I was being cocky-- no way she liked me that much.  I mean she seemed to be in love with Troy a while ago, but she got over that.  This line of thought was vindicated the next day at study group when Annie acted like nothing was wrong.  She was chipper, friendly, outgoing, and insecure just like always.  I decided it was best not to mention it unless she did, and we had a pretty normal day.  Annie stopped me on the way out, though, and told me she wanted to talk to me.  She said she had a "proposal," but we had to talk somewhere private.  I was very reluctant when she invited me to her house, but she broke the uncomfortable silence with a laugh, explaining that she lived with her parents and she just wanted somewhere to talk without anyone around.

Still worried, I slowly agreed to go with her.  She stopped when I tried to reiterate my feelings from the night before, and promised that she didn't have any ideas.  I tried to get her to explain her "proposal" on the walk to her house, but she just insisted that we wait.  No one was home when we got there, and when we sat down to talk Annie handed me a letter and made me promise to read the entire thing before I said anything.

        Britta--  I thought a lot about what you said last night and I realized that, as much as I hate to admit it, you're right.  A public relationship would never work, and I can accept that you don't think I'm worth having a secret hook-up relationship with.  I did think of a third option, which I would like to present to you.  Before I begin I'd like to make it clear that this is entirely up to you, and there will be no hard feelings no matter what you choose.

    I'm going to be honest-- I'm absolutely head-over-heels for you.  I won't bore you with the details of how amazing I think you are, but the point is that I want you to be a large part of my life, even if I'm only a small part of yours.  So here's my idea: let me move into your apartment.  I'm too old to be living with my parents, and your apartment is too big for one person.  My parents have money, so I can cover my half of the rent.  Now, I understand that you don't want me living with you, even it did help with the rent.  So I'm gonna sweeten the deal for you.

    This is going to sound strange, but I would be willing to be your personal assistant.  Basically, in exchange for letting me live with you, I would become your full-time employee.  Anything you need done, I would do it.  This would of course include house chores, cleaning, and cooking (at your pleasure, of course).  My duties would also include running errands and anything else you wanted me to do.

    I know it seems like a weird idea, but really think hard about it.  One of the things I like about you is that you know what you want.  I believe that, once the initial awkwardness passed, you could really grow into a boss role.  I just want you to consider how much easier your life would be if you didn't have to do any work that you didn't want to do.  It would be easy to keep it a secret, because everyone would think I just needed a place to stay.  Everything else would happen in private.

    Please, please, please at least think about it.  Let me assure you that my feelings for you would not show any more than you want them to.  If you decide you are interested, you of course would retain the right to terminate the agreement at any time and evict me without notice.

Warmly,

Annie.

    Obviously, I was speechless.  Annie sat patiently while my brain tried to catch up.  My first emotion was discomfort: the whole idea was just really weird, and regardless of what she said I knew it would uncomfortable to live with someone who's in love with you.  But I felt something else welling up inside of me, something I never expected.  I was kind of... excited.  Somehow, through the confusion came clarity and I knew exactly what to say.

"Annie-- This is crazy.  I really don't know how I feel about it.  I think we both need to sleep on it.  But before we do, there's something I need you to understand.  If I do this-- and let me be perfectly clear, I am NOT saying that I will-- but IF I agree to this, I'm going to do it all the way.  The only way it would work is if I really treated you like you worked for me.  I really don't understand why you would be willing to this, but make sure it's not just an idle fantasy.  You will probably have to regularly do things that you don't want to do, even if it's inconvenient.  I'm not a half-assed person.  Also, I'm not sure what you're expecting but you probably won't see as much affection from me as you'd like.  Don't say anything right now.  I'm going to go home, I want you to think long and hard about whether or not this is something you want.  If you're still as enthusiastic about this, come to my apartment at 5 pm tomorrow.  We'll talk then.  The most important thing to me is that, no matter what happens, we can stay friends."

With that, I walked out of her house.  As I was leaving, I could tell she was trying to hide a smile.

I had a lot to think about.  On it's face, the idea was ridiculous.  But my apprehension began to give way to curiosity, then excitement.  The practical benefits sounded attractive, but there was something else that drew me in: the power.  These emotions made me a little uncomfortable-- why was I so enthralled with the idea of superiority?  I went home to mull it over, but deep down I think I had made my decision before I walked in the door.

The next day, I was nervous.  I really didn't know what to expect.  I was most worried about awkwardness; such an abrupt transition in our relationship dynamic would almost certainly be uncomfortable for both of us.  At 5:00 on the dot, I heard a knock at my door.  I opened it with a big grin on my face, and immediately Annie began gushing.  We embraced and sat down on the couch.  I told her that I had decided to accept her offer on a trial basis, but that she should be prepared for me to change my mind at any time.  She tried to suppress her jubilation but it was obvious.  "You probably shouldn't get so excited.  This isn't going to be very fun for you," I told her.

These first two weeks have definitely been a little awkward, and I've thought about calling the whole thing off more than once, but one overriding factor has kept me in it: pure convenience.  I have truly been enjoying having the more mundane elements of my life taken care of, and I've from being worried I wouldn't like it to worrying that I like it too much.  I mean, this sweet girl is essentially subjugating herself for me-- how could I be so callous?

My selfishness won this particular internal battle, and me and Annie settled into an uneasy routine.  Annie waits outside my door when I wake up, asking what I want for breakfast.  If I need to go to the laundromat or get something from the store, I either ask or text her.  Whatever I need always gets done on time.  Sometimes, I ask her to clean up, but I started to notice the apartment will be immaculate no matter what I say.  Her eagerness has empowered me.

-------------------------

Part 2

Well, we faced our first major issue with the arrangement.  About a week ago, I started pushing her, more out of curiosity than anything else, to see how far she would go.  One morning, after she made my breakfast and we were sitting on the couch, I waded in.

"So, I've been thinking.  How much time do you think you spend doing domestic work in this apartment?" I asked.

"Oh I don't know.. 2-3 hours a day I'd guess," she responded humbly.

"And what do you usually wear, when you're working?"

"Um, pretty much whatever I was wearing around the house.  Something comfortable and casual.." she said, clearly confused.

"Yeah I noticed that.. I was thinking, you said this would be like a job, right?  Would a professional dress like that?"

"Well... no..." she paused.  "W-what do you want me to wear?"

I pretended I was thinking about it.  "Hmmmm... I'm not sure.  Why don't you go try on an outfit, and I'll let you know what I think."

The look on her face was a strange mixture of happiness and fear.  She slowly went into her bedroom as I remained on the couch.  My experiment was proceeding perfectly-- I never imagined she would react so positively.  She was in her room for a long time, but when she sheepishly emerged I saw why.  She had made up her face, done her hair, and put on a knee-length black skirt with a white button down shirt.

"Wow!" I said.  "You look great."

"Thank you, Britta," she replied with a wavering voice.

"There's just one thing though... your footwear, or lack thereof.  Would a professional maid really go barefoot in someones house?"  This was the first time I referred to her as a maid.  I could see a shiver run down her spine as I said the word.

"I-I guess not..." she stuttered.  "I could wear sneakers.."

"Oh, no Annie.  I was thinking more of the classic, French maid type.. do you have any black stilettos?"

"Um, no... y-you want me to wear h-high heels while I clean your house?"

"Haha, well it sounds silly when you put it that way.  I just think, if we're gonna do this, you should look the part."

"Well.. I don't really have many pairs of heels... I never wear them."  She was looking more and more scared.

"Yeah, why is that?  I wear them all the time.  They make your legs look amazing, and the height makes you feel powerful."

"I just don't think they're comfortable.  I've never understood why girls feel the need to cripple themselves for others' approval."

I decided not to mention that she had just subtly insulted me, but it steeled my resolve to push her further still.

"Well, I think you should wear them.  Whatever I want, right?  Why don't you go put on your highest pair and we'll see what we're working with," I retorted with a firm smile.

If she was tentative before, now she was downright horrified.  I could see her brain scrambling to process my command, but she regained control and put a smile on her face.  "Of course, Britta.  Whatever you want."

She emerged wearing what can only be described as church heels-- basic, slip on white shoes with a chunky, two-inch heel.

"Wow," I said.  "Is that really the highest you've got?"

"Umm.. yea," she said, her face blushing with embarrassment.

"Hmm.. it'll have to do for now.  But by the end of the week, I want you to buy five more pairs, all different styles and heights, no heel shorter than 4 inches," I said matter-of-factly.

This time, there was no hesitation.  "Yes, Britta."

"And let me just tell you this-- you'd be well-advised to pick shoes that I would like."

Dutiful if reluctant, Annie spent a good part of the rest of her week performing menial chores in full make-up, formal tops, short skirts and granny heels.  I could tell it was bothering her, and her frustration boiled over two days ago when I asked her to show me the new heels she had bought.

"Britta, I bought the shoes, but I really need to tell you that I think you're being completely unreasonable.  I understand that this whole thing was my idea, but I didn't expect you to be so cruel!  Why do I have to wear heels?  Why do I have to wear nice clothes and makeup?  Do you understand how inconvenient that is?  I spend half my time trying not to smear my face or get my clothes dirty, and my feet are already killing me.  Now you want me to start wearing these sky-high heels?!  I'm not even going to be able to walk in some of them!"

She paused, out of breathe and flustered.  It was clear that she had been stewing over this for days.

I had been listening patiently, having realized that we were facing a turning point in this relationship.  I had to choose whether to ease back and accept the practical benefits of the arrangement, or to embrace my darker fantasies and risk losing her altogether.  I knew which way to go:

"Oh, Annie.  I understand why you're upset, but there's really nothing I can say to make you feel better.  You agreed to play by my rules, and this is what I want.  If you think you're in over your head, I can respect that.  I have to tell you it's probably going to get worse.  Sometimes, I'm going to want to make your life difficult for nothing more than the simple amusement of it.  If that isn't going to work for you, maybe you should walk away."

She started bawling, choking out "I can't do it.  I'm so sorry." and I warmly embraced her, telling her everything was OK and we could still be friends.  I told her I would give her some privacy and that she should go change and grab an overnight bag, and that she could pick up the rest of her stuff in the next few days.  Her sobs became louder as I walked backed to my room and laid on my bed, staring at the ceiling.

I just stared off into space and digested what had just happened-- how I had hurt Annie, and what I had given up.  The cries became more and more faint until I couldn't hear them at all, but I never heard the front door open and shut.  After about an hour, I went to see if she had gone.  Just on the other side of my bedroom door was quite a sight: Annie was kneeling on the hardwood, still wearing her blouse and skirt but with a new pair of shoes on:  black patent leather peep toe pumps, with a string tied into a bow on the front and a heel that had to be 5 inches high.  Her top three buttons were undone and the positioning of her hands atop her head gave me a perfect view of her lingerie.

It took me a beat to pick my jaw up off the floor and regain my composure, but I immediately made a strategic move.

"What are you still doing here?"  I asked, coldly.

"Um... well... I changed my mind.  Britta, I will put up with whatever you can dish out.  I need to be around you.  Please take me back!"

"Uh, sorry Annie but it doesn't work like that.  If you were really devoted to me, you never would have quit.  How do I know you won't just get frustrated and quit again tomorrow?"  I tried to keep all emotion from my voice.

"Britta, please!  I'm begging you!  I'll do anything.  How can I prove myself to you? Please!"  She began crying again.

"Anything?  OK, but from now on you have to do exactly what I say.  I'm not going to say you can't argue or discuss things with me, but my word is final and when I issue an order you must obey.  Now, kiss my feet."

Surprise flashed across her face, but she quickly bent down and planted a kiss on top of each one.

"Very good," I told her, walking over to the sofa.  "Now let me tell you some of the new rules.  The first two rules are the most important, and I already told you the first.  Your obedience is mandatory.  You don't have to accept everything without question, but the conversation is over when I say it is.  Any larger grievances will have to be saved for Wednesday nights, which will be your night off.  On those days only the first rule will be in effect, but I will be much looser with you.

The second rule is just as important: this is a voluntary arrangement, and you can terminate it at any time by simply moving out of the house.

Third, you must always address me respectfully.. I don't much care exactly how.

Fourth, you must always be dressed up in my presence.  Again, I will refrain from giving strict rules but I will correct any unacceptable behavior.

Fifth, you will be punished for disobedience.  I mostly find pain distasteful, so other than a few slaps or spanks the punishments will genuinely be more creative-- loss of privileges, meaningless tasks, and things of that nature."

I could tell she was scared on her knees, but I still felt like I might have her on the hook.  "So, what do you think?  Do you really want to do this?"

Her response came quicker than I could have hoped: "Yes!  Yes I do!" she practically shouted, "um... ma'am".

"Very good Annie!  You'll have to get used to it quickly though," I said, with a wry smile.  "And there's one other thing I have to tell you.  As you may have guessed, I've been reading up on this kind of thing on the Internet, and there's an element I want to add to our relationship.  It's called bondage: I'm going to start tying you up sometimes.  Maybe often.  How do you feel about that?"

"Oh, well actually I'm kind of into it ma'am.  I never told anybody before but..." she trailed off.

"Perfect.  Well, I know this is a lot to take in and I want to give you some time to think about it, so I'm going to go to my room and watch TV."

"OK, Miss Britta," she smiled and leaned in to hug my legs.  It was very endearing and cute, but I decided to bite the bullet and throw one more major test at her.  If she could pass this, I would know for sure I was home free.

"Wait a minute, missy, you haven't been punished yet for walking out on me.  I want you to go out and find a sex shop, dressed exactly as you are.  When you get there, I want you to buy a whole bunch of bondage gear.  It's up to you what exactly you buy, but just know that I expect you to go big.  Buy some sexy costumes, including a maid outfit.  Oh, and don't forget the dildos.. different kinds and sizes.  When you get back, I want you to wrap them all like Christmas presents.  Then, I want you to strip naked except for your heels and write 'I am sorry I walked on you Miss Britta' 1,000 times by hand, standing up.  After that, do whatever you want and I'll see you in the morning.  Don't say a word, just do it."

I knew this was a harsh punishment, but I tried to soften the blow by mixing in some sexual elements-- I knew she would be aroused.  My suspicions were proven correct when the aghast look on her face softened to excitement as I mentioned the dildos.  Without another word, I got up and walked to my room.

All of this happened three days ago.  Suffice it to say, she passed the test and things are going great right now.  I'll check back in later with more stories.

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