/!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Transitional//EN" "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-transitional.dtd">
Looking down at my own body, I see Mistress Pam enter the room. As she walks over to the metal table where my body has been placed, I can see the tears streaming down her beautiful face. The policeman pulls the white sheet down just below my neck and Mistress nods, confirming that it is me on the table. How my heart is broken to witness this pain.
Mistress Pam and I met a little over ten years ago. She had an advertisement in the local rag advertising for a live in housekeeper. Having been forced to early retirement because of a mental breakdown some nine months earlier, having no job prospects, I decided to apply for an interview.
I was very nervous as I approached her house. Being a middle aged man I was worried that I wouldn’t be what she was looking for. Her house was a two story brownstone in the wealthier end of town. The first thing I noticed was how immaculate the yard was kept, but had no flowers growing anywhere. Flowers would defiantly add colour to an otherwise dull yard.
The door opened and standing before me was the most beautiful women I had ever seen. Mistress stood about five feet seven inches tall wearing heels that were no more than one inch high. Her long black hair was pulled to one side of her face reaching almost down to her waist. It was so shinny that the sun reflecting from it gave the appearance of her wearing a halo. The mid thigh, yellow sundress, completed her angelic look.
Mistress first explained to me that she was a widow, which her husband of five years had died in a boating accident. My guess was that she was in her early thirties and still grieved her loss.
Asking about my qualifications, I explained that I had two children that were abondend at a very young age and I had raised them alone with very little outside help. I was accustomed to taking care of a household and cooking was a hobby of mine. I took great pride in the way I kept the house clean and in order. I was familiar doing ladies laundry, because my youngest child was a girl. I told her how they were both grown and had families of their own and I missed not having someone to take care of.
When asked about my work history, I explained of my mental breakdown and that after spending two months in hospital I had participated in a day group four days a week with people that had the same problems as me. After a year in therapy I was advised to find a job that I would be comfortable doing, without stress. I was trying to read her face as I spoke but all I could see was a lady that was suffering from a great loss.
After my interview, mistress told me she had never considered having a male housekeeper but she wouldn’t let that influence her decision. When she spoke my name, Thomas, so softly, as she walked me to the door, I knew that this would be my last employment. I wanted so much to serve her and try to ease her sorrow.
Almost two weeks passed before I got a call to come for a second interview. I wasn’t near as nervous as the first time being in her house. Mistress went over what my duties would be, not just keeping the house clean and cooking meals, but also looking after her personal care. Asked if seeing her nude, assisting her with her bath and dressing her, would be a problem, I said I knew my position and she could trust that I would never think of myself as anything but a servant. She was satisfied with my answer and said the job was mine if I wanted it. I would be moving in next week.
My room was in the back of the house on the first floor. I had my own bathroom which connected to the laundry room. The hall led directly to the kitchen and from there you entered the drawing room and living room. Upstairs were Mistress’s bedroom and two guest rooms, each with there own bath.
My duties at first were to cook meals, do laundry, and clean house. As I gained the trust of Mistress Pam, she let me assist her with her bath and her getting dressed. At bedtime, while she sat at her vanity, I would brush her hair with a hundred strokes. She would tell me stories of her and her husband and ask me why she couldn’t carry on with her life. Having my own problems, I didn’t have an answer, so I kept my thoughts to myself. I don’t think she really wanted my opinion; she just needed someone to talk to.
After coming home late from shopping or a day out with one of her lady friends, I would have her lie back on the sofa and massage her feet and legs. Often she would become very relaxed and fall asleep. I would carry her upstairs and dress her in one of her beautiful silk nightgowns and put her to bed. I knew my place as a servant and never took advantage of her.
As time passed I asked her why a beautiful lady as herself never went out on dates to enjoy male company. Her answer was that she wanted to stay true to her dead husband. I became very brave and told her that surely she must have sexual needs. Looking a little startled, she agreed, but what man would satisfy her knowing that there was no future for them? With my head hung down I said that perhaps I could be that man. I told her that I knew my position, and was only there to serve her.
Nothing was said for several days until one late afternoon she came home from shopping complaining that all her friends had sex lives and she didn’t. Lying on the sofa I, removed her shoes, and for the first time I took off her stockings. While massaging her feet she slowly parted her legs and I could see the outline of her sex underneath her silk panties. I reached up taking my time to remove them, in case I miss read her, and she wanted me to stop. The next thing I did was top remove her skirt and spread her legs apart. Though it had been many years since I had eaten a pussy, I gently placed my head up to her lips and began to lick.
When she started moaning and raising her rear end, I toyed with her clit till she came. I repeated this till she came several more times, then carried her upstairs, laying her on her bed, asking if she would like a nice soaking bath. I filled the tub as usual and added her favorite soaps. When she got in the tub, she asked me to leave her alone, that she would bath herself, and go to bed.
Nothing was said the next morning. She left to go and tend to some business, and I did my usual chores. When she got home that afternoon, I had an elegant dinner waiting for her along with her favorites wine. When finished she retired to the sofa. I cleaned the kitchen and put everything away and approached her asking if she would like me to massage her feet. When I was on my knees in front of her, she told me what had happened last night was very satisfying, and would I do it again.
This time when I took her upstairs and prepared her bath, she asked me to stay and keep her company. She told me how much she enjoyed our talks and how I was never judge- mental, and that she appreciated my loyalty to her. I didn’t know what to say, so I knelt by the tub till she was finished. Not saying anything told her what she needed to know.
This routine continued for several years, with me taking care of her needs when she asked. Never once did I indicate I wanted anything in return other than her letting me serve her.
One Wednesday morning, she asked if I would accompany her on her errands, one of which was going to the bank. As I was standing in line behind her, there was a terrible commotion and I realized it was a bank robbery. One of the guards fired of a few rounds before he was shot down. The robber then turned toward the wickets and aimed the gun at Mistress Pam. When he fired, I stepped in front of her and took the bullet myself. When I fell to the floor I could hear the sirens coming. The robber turned and ran out the door knowing he had no chance if he stayed inside. Mistress leaned down and whispered in my ear that she truly loved me. Hearing those words I passed on to another world wishing there was some way I could continue to look after her.
Comments for My Mistress-My Love
Submit a comment