We set up a date for him to come over and clean. His fantasy didn’t work if I didn’t play along, and I wanted to hold up my end of the bargain. If his fetish was to serve a woman who would boss him around and make him feel worthless, I would try to play the role. After all, I wanted him to get something out of the situation, too. I thought he would like it better if I just referred to him as the Houseboy. Although our exchanges didn’t always make me feel better, it was still nice to know someone was rooting for me.Įven so, I told him not to tell me his name.
I had been single for nearly four years, and it was easy to confide in this stranger who already had made himself so vulnerable to me.
Sometimes, at night, he’d ask me how I was doing. Although most of our interactions were fetish-related, there were moments of intimacy.