He emailed two years ago asking to spend a weekend cleaning my house, while wearing a servant’s uniform and a chastity belt underneath.
Worried he might be bored by all the cleaning I told him about my other clients that week: an adult baby, a watersports enthusiast, a balloon lover, alongside my usual collection of naughty schoolboys.
They punished his failures by stopping him having fun, so he made that fun by weaving an erotic narrative in which women loved him for submitting and demanded his chastity.
‘Well,’ I thought, ‘why not?’ He’d pay well and my house was a mess, so it felt like a bit of a no-brainer.
He was born with a submissive streak and formed his kink in his schooldays – although he doesn’t blame pretty teachers, his mother or any of the usual suspects for making him this way.
