A dirty girl cleans up!

I’d been aware for some time that my work was leaving me with insufficient time to cope with the demands of housework and that when I got back in the evening, sometimes quite late, I was in no mood for hoovering and dusting. I could cope with washing up and keeping the kitchen clean and hygenic, and of course, the bathroom (don’t want you thinking that I’d become a real slob!). Consequently, I came to realise that my tidy and ordered domestic world was falling far short of my own standards. I also came to see my own views relected in the attitudes of those I invited back to my place and I realised that I was going to have to do something about it, if I wished to continue with what I saw as a civilised existence.

I took the bull by the horns as they say, and scanned the local paper for advertisments for cleaning ladies and wrote to one of them and asked her to call round one evening so that we could discuss the situation. She duly arrived at 7 o’clock the following wednesday. She was called ‘Abigail’ and was in her mid twenties. She was slim, petite, had masses of dark brown hair and wonderfully deep and sensual eyes and she walked round with me to inspect the premises in a very efficient and businesslike manner. We sat down and over a cup of tea discussed terms and to cut a long story short, came to an arrangement that, subject to satisfactory references, she would start the following Monday.

As I would be out all day (most days) I told her that she could put in her time during the day to suit herself and I agreed to use her services for a minimum of 2 hours a day, 5 days a week… but I could call on her for extra hours if that didn’t prove sufficient. I looked forward to living once more in a clean and tidy environment and when she volunteered to take care of the washing and ironing as well I upped her hours to 4 per day. I was spending a small fortune on laundry! Clean, freshly ironed shirts every day……. luxury!

The references were fantastic and Abi, as she said she would like me to call her, agreed to start the following Monday. I had a key cut for her and went off to the office with a happy anticipation of a new start. I wasn’t disappointed on my return. The place looked and smelled wonderful. How she managed to work out where everything was kept (something that I’d completely forgotten to tell her, of course) I couldn’t imagine, but she’d coped wonderfully. As the days went by, things just got better and better. I couldn’t believe how I’d managed without her. Occasionally, she would phone me at the office to ask for instructions about things she didn’t understand and that was something else I appreciated.

I noticed the reactions of my friends. My male friends would ask who this girl was and make suggestive remarks about our exact relationship …. did she wear a ‘Maid’s uniform’ for instance. They didn’t believe me when I said I didn’t know, but I do confess to giving the image a little time in my imagination! My female friends (one especially) were very impressed with my new and much tidier world and said they’d like to meet this girl, but I thought this would unfair so I didn’t encourage it.

Curious isn’t it, how the smallest event can lead on to major developments? I’ve always had a thing about spanking female bottoms and quite a few of my girlfriends have shared this taste……… ‘No’ I don’t actually mean that!….. what I meant to say is that they enjoyed being the female receiving the spanking! A woman I was seeing at this time was the latest in a long line of ‘spankees’ and on the night in question, had spent the night in my bed sleeping face down dor the first part of the night for rather obvious reasons! We had started with an ‘over the knee’ spanking across her jeans downstairs on the sofa and progressed to the bedroom where I had adminstered a bare bottom (bare everything for both of us!) tawsing with her draped over my thighs. Afterwards, with both of us being very much aroused, I had fucked her hard and fast and then put the light out, dropping the tawse on the bedside table.

In the morning, we slept rather longer than planned and so it was in a mad rush that we went downstairs to grab some tea and toast and make our way to our seperate places of work.

When I came home that night, I went upstairs to change as usual and suddenly noticed the tawse lying on the bedside table.