The Cleaning Job

by Pea Jung

  A scrunchie is lying on the sink next to a piece of paper: ponytail!

  I hear a brusque voice in the hallway. “Are you still in the bathroom?”

  “I’m nearly ready,” I pipe up and tie up my hair. Hopefully, he can not hear my nervousness.

  “Go to the kitchen and let me know when you’re ready,” he mutters grumpily.

  “Ok,” I breathe quietly.

  Now I can hear him growling right behind the door: “And consider please, what you should call me!”

  “Yes…Sir.” I whisper even quieter.

  His voice sounds very appealing, even though it is hard and unkind. He seems dominant as if he was exalted above all.

  I wait a moment then I open the bathroom door and rush into the kitchen.

  “Ready,” I call as friendly as possible and hear fast steps coming towards the kitchen.

  A man with a hood, like motorcyclists sometimes wear under their helmets, enters the kitchen. He is otherwise completely black. The black fabric pants are wrinkle-free. The tight-fitting black sweater probably has a turtleneck, which I can’t really see because the mask covers his neck. Apart from his hands and the area around the eyes, I can’t see any skin. Just when I am about to look at his eyes, he roars: “Are you done staring at me?”

  “I’m sorry,” I breathe offended and look at the ground.

  “I’m sorry… And ….?”

  “I’m sorry, Sir,” I whisper, staring rigidly at the ground still.

  I watch from the corner of my eye as he uncrosses his arms and pushes his hands into his pockets. Then he walks towards me and I shudder.

  “Looking at the ground is correct,” he praises me, as he circles me once. “Very nice costume that, it looks good on you. Put your hands together in front of your hips!”

  I do it and he corrects me: “not like that! Hold one hand with the other! Yes, exactly. I would like to see you standing here like this, when I enter the room, exactly on time at 7 o’clock, understood?”

  “Yes, Sir!”

  “I will deduct any tardiness from you tips, or would you prefer to stay an extra five minutes?”

  I consider this.

  “So, extra work, very well.” He has just decided for me!

  Then he moves away from me a little. I can feel his gaze resting on me. Suddenly the kitchen door creaks. I hardly trust myself to look up, but my curiosity prevails. Behind the door, he pulls out a sort of stick. Quickly I drop my gaze again, but he has already noticed it.

  “This is a crop… without a lash,” he explains and comes towards me.

  Involuntarily I back away.

  “You will always remain in your position until you get new instructions from me,” he orders and the crop comes closer to my neckline.

  I stay where I am, and again take up the desired posture.

  He lifts the fabric of my top a little with the crop and peeks underneath it. “Tstststs! That sweet thing is not part of your costume.”

  He approaches closer to me and stares down my top. The crop goes into my bra. “Next time you’re only to wear the things that are lying on the chair, understand?”

  I gasp because the crop is still stuck in my bra.

  “Understand?” he commands me.

  “Yes, Sir,” I manage to utter and must pull myself together in order not to scream in tension.

  “I want an answer to a question. Always!” he commands somewhat quieter and pulls the crop back out of my clothes. I breathe in. He walks around me again. “Is there anything else you want to confess before we get started?”

  “No, Sir,” I breathe. He surely doesn’t want to know that I always used to dispose of the lunch my mom made me in the trash can at a bus stop as a child, does he?

  As he passes me, he drags the crop along my back and I get goosebumps.

  Behind me, wood bangs against wood.

  Then he puts a chair in front of me, he casually settles onto it and looks at me.

  Although I don’t trust myself to look at him, I can feel his eyes slip over my body, as he takes me in. Tense, I try to distract myself with my guilty conscience over the many lunches I threw away.

  “Are you double-jointed?” he asks after a while.

  “Well…,” I begin.

  “An answer!”

  “No, Sir,” I say before he asks me to do the splits.

  “The years of ballet classes didn’t pay off then?” At my surprised look, he adds derisively: “I have inquired about you. What did you think?”

  “Was that a question, Sir?”

  He laughs hoarsely and smacks the crop a couple of times on the palm of his hand. “Not directly. I see, you have a lot to learn. But I’m having a lot of fun with you already.”

  There’s a long moment of silence, then suddenly with a hard voice he orders: “Turn around!”

  I obey immediately.

  “Touch the floor with your hands!”

  I’m about to squat down and he immediately interrupts: “no! Leave your legs stretched out!” He sounds annoyed.

  Since I hesitate, he stands up and I can already feel the crop at my back. “Back down, legs straight. Let’s see how far you get.”

  I quickly stretch out my legs.

  “You’re much too fast.” I stand up straight again and look at him questioningly. “Remember, take your time with every movement I order, like a cat stretching with pleasure!” He speaks more slowly as if he were demonstrating how he imagines my movements should be. Then he adds: “I will call you kitten, understood?”

  “Yes, Sir,” I answer immediately.

  He sits down on the chair again. “So, and now all over again from scratch. Bend over!”

  I bend over slowly towards the ground and feel my skirt slipping upwards. Fortunately, I have spacious underwear. Nevertheless, I feel exposed as I realize that only my underwear is separating me from this man.

  I manage to place my palms on the floor because that has never been a problem for me. It’s good that I haven’t eaten lunch, otherwise, this would not be the flexible move of a kitten!

  “Good, my Kitten, stay like that!” He stands up.

  He takes my breath away as he goes behind me, squats down and very carefully looks at me.

  “Now it would be better if the bra were not there,” he sighs eventually and sits down again. “Get on all fours!”

  I do, but again I do it too quickly.

  “Slowly, Kitten, you don’t have to win a race!”

  I brake mid-movement.

  “Better,” I hear him growl. “Now come to me, but without touching me.”

  I move to get up.

  “No! Did I say anything about standing up? On all fours!” he commands me.

  Hit tone makes me freeze and I stand before him with drooping shoulders.

  He mutters: “You are so easily intimidated! I can see now that I must have a lot of patience with my Kitten. So once again: come to me on all fours.”

  I turn to him and slowly crawl across the floor without looking at him.

  “Head up!” he calls and I can already imagine, why. “Yes good! You should always lift your head when moving like this, all right?”

  “Yes, Sir.” Then I stop before him, my face at exactly the height of his knee and staring straight ahead. He opens his legs. “Come a little closer!” Oh, my God! I should have eaten my lunch. This is my punishment.

  As soon as I move, he takes an energized breath. “Stop!” he calls, a moment before a touch would have been inevitable. “Look at me!”

  Slowly I lift my eyelids.

  His intense gaze hits me off guard and I drown in his deep, dark eyes.

  “Look at what you’re doing to me!” His gaze wanders to his lap.

 
“Look!” he orders when I don’t respond. Then he observed me with pleasure, as my gaze falls on the bulge in his pants. “That’s why, my Kitten, I let you crawl around so before me. You make me incredibly horny! So don’t think that you have a nice cleaning job here.”

  I swallow and when he notices that I want to look away, he sets the crop under my chin. “I want you to look at my boner and realize how you affect me. I won’t hurt you, not even touch you. But remember that you make other men horny! They have maybe less fun, restricting themselves to just watching.”

  “Yes, Sir,” I breathe, staring at his tight pants, which look like they can no longer withstand the pressure. Why can’t I think about my lunch anymore?

  “So, now my Kitty, move your sweet ass under the sink and clear out the whole cupboard. On your knees of course!” He pulls the crop away from under my chin.

  While I slowly crawl to the sink, he slides his chair into a different position.

  As soon as I open the cupboard, he determines what I should take out first. During the whole operation, he leads me with his instructions and I move just as he asks. To my horror, I realize that I’m getting wet. I didn’t expect that!

  I clean out the whole cupboard, which contained a lot of cleaning utensils. “So, Kitten, you did well. Now you need to moisten the blue cloth and then wipe the cabinet, right into the farthest corner! I would like you to always wipe out front to back.”

  Standing up, I notice that my knees hurt terribly. As I stand at the sink and let the water run, he is suddenly behind me. I jump in surprise.

  “Hey Kitty, you really don’t need to fear me! Even though I have to admit that it makes me even hotter.” I can feel his crop on my leg. “When you do something at this sink in the future, then I would like you to put a foot on the work surface.”

  The crop press against my thigh from below and I slowly lift my leg. Then I put my foot on the edge of the worktop.

  “Yes, exactly,” he says.

  I feel the crop at my crotch. He taps it gently and it sparks a pulsation.

  “Interesting,” I hear him whisper, before returning back to his chair.

  Has he realized that my pants are soaked with my own moisture? I’m glad I have a bra! Otherwise, even the hard nipples of my breasts would be clear to see.

  With the damp rag in my hand, I slowly sink onto my knees. Because it is a corner sink with a large cabinet I have to stretch to reach the furthest corner.

  “Kitty!” I hear him whisper hoarsely after a while. “Spread your legs some more for me!”

  I do what he says and freeze on the inside as he stands up again and approaches me. The crop pushes my skirt upwards a little further.

  Then he sits again. “Carry on, or you won’t finish today!”

  I wipe with full devotion and give myself all the time in the world.

  “Now, you can put everything back,” he says finally.

  While tidying up, I push things quite far backward in the closet because I know that he likes it.

  When I’m finally done and close the closet door, he wants me to get up. For that, I am grateful, because I can hardly kneel any longer.

  “So, Kitty, that’s enough for today. You can go get dressed now and then you can come to me in the living room. If you want to take a shower, I don’t mind. In the bathroom, you will find everything you need.” He stands up and leaves the kitchen.

  As soon as I’m sure that he has gone into the living room, I hurry into the bathroom and undress frantically.

  As I already feared, the underwear is treacherously wet. I can’t possibly leave this proof of my horniness here! I almost have to laugh. I only cleaned! Quickly, I get dressed and slip into my jacket. Then I stuff the panties in a large jacket pocket and go to the living room, the door is ajar.

  “Come in!” His voice is polite.

  Slowly I enter the living room. He has just put the mask back on and fiddles around with it until it is properly seated.

  “Sit down!”

  It’s shortly before half eight, I have no reason to rush.

  As he watches me slink through the room, he laughs. “You can move completely normally now.”

  I try a smile, but I still don’t trust myself to look at him.

  “And you may look at me. You don’t really fear me, do you?”

  Without answering, I sit down in the armchair opposite the couch, where he has taken a seat. I can not stop dropping my gaze to his crotch. Because I want to know whether he is still excited. There’s nothing to see.

  But it is immediately clear to him what I was looking for. “No, I don’t walk around all day with an erection,” he says, laughing, but I still feel uncomfortable.

  “Will we see each other next Tuesday?” he asks and tilts his head.

  “I think so,” I answer.

  “Do your knees hurt?”

  “It’s all right,” I mutter, even though I’m in terrible pain.

  “Then you can spend the whole two hours kneeling on the ground on Tuesday,” he asserts and, because my eyes open wide in shock, he accuses me immediately: “If we want to work well together then you need to be honest with me.”

  “Alright. My knees hurt so much that I almost can’t stand it.”

  “That’s better. Ask me for a pillow next time, if I don’t think about it myself! I am admittedly quite distracted and not always aware of all the details.”

  I nod.

  “Did it excite you, that I was watching you?”

  I think of the wet panties in my jacket pocket waiting for the washing machine.

  “It did excite you,” he confirms to himself and I hear from his voice that he is smiling satisfied.

  I wonder what his smile looks like? I distract myself by looking at his black socks, the tight-fitting pants, and the sweater, underneath which is a muscular upper body.

  “It seems like I will get no answer today at least,” he discerns and eyes me with a crooked look before he says: “You may now go.”

  I get up immediately. He rises and pulls his wallet out of his pants pocket. He pulls out a green note and passes it over the table. “Goodbye, Mrs. Wagner.”

  I hastily grab the money and say goodbye, before hurriedly leaving the apartment.

  When I arrive at home, I’m still so excited that I can’t help but bring myself to climax. As I do, I imagine my employer as he touched me from behind standing in front of the sink cabinet. Although I was hesitant at first, he seduced me – but how!

  Chapter 6

  Until the next Tuesday, I don’t hear or see anything more of the mysterious stranger. I have to work all weekend and have Monday and Tuesday free instead. Because I am nervous the whole of Tuesday, I clean my apartment frantically. I’m amazed as I catch myself trying different positions that my employer might like.

  Just before I’m about to make my way over to him, my phone rings. “Hey Josi, it’s Carina. How about another girl’s night?”

  “Sure, when?”

  “Thursday, 8 pm,” Carina says cheerfully.

  “Oh crap, I’ll come, but it certainly won’t be until after nine. I’ve got a cleaning job,” I explain, and even though Carina is as curious as always, I put her off until Thursday.

  Finally, I arm myself with hand cream and head off for my date with Mr. Alfons Mader. While I ride the lift upwards, I moisturize my hands and am glad that the door scanner detects my impression immediately this time. With a guilty conscience, I pull the freshly washed panties from my purse and put them on the sink base cabinet.

  Then I look at today’s outfit: a white angel costume, even shorter than the last dress. To make matters worse, he’s only put out a g-string. I think I must be crazy!

  The top of the long-sleeved dress is pretty wide cut. How will that l
ook good if I bend over? With these clothes, I don’t believe I can indulge in cheating. But one thing I do take: I stick my own panty liner in the string, even if the tape can hardly find a grip.

  I can’t find anything for my hair, that means that it should remain down. However, I need so long to close the tiny silver strappy boots that I only set off for the kitchen at the last minute. Just when I get there I hear the apartment door open.

  It takes a painfully long wait before he enters the kitchen. He is dressed completely in black again, including the mask. Silently, he immediately takes the crop off the hook at the kitchen door and comes towards me.

  First, he checks down my top. Then he lifts my skirt with the crop before he sighs satisfied: “good, Kitten! I’m prepared to forgive you for the panties from Thursday.”

  “I just washed them and put…”

  But he cuts me off: “Did I tell you to speak?”

  “No, Sir,” I breathe.

  “The things remain here, all right?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Why did you take the panties? Were they wet, Kitten?”

  I don’t answer.

  “Come on! And don’t lie to me!” he growls standing very close to me.

  The crop travels under my chin and raises my head until I look at him.

  “Yes,” I breathe.

  He growls something unintelligible and lowers the crop. “We are in the bedroom today. The bed must be freshly made,” he explains and leaves the kitchen.

  I follow him into the bedroom.

  The large double bed is rumpled like a pillow fight has taken place there. He settles down on one side of the bed and pats next to him.

  “Change first one side and then the other. On all fours! Fresh bed linen is lying on the floor and I want you to pick them up from the bed on all fours. But watch that you show your ass in my direction!”

  I kneel on the bed.

  “The pillow first!”