As I made insistently clear the other day, I am not (not!) a service slut, uh, sub.

But if any idea is bandied around enough by someone whose very presence sends ripples of sensation across my body . . . well . . . color me impressionable.

As it turns out, my lover very much likes the idea of a maid to do his bidding in every way. At first I thought it was a roleplay thing–hehe, oh, my, what a lovely black outfit you have on, the better to rip off you when I ravage you.

But I’ve started to understand, the more I delve into my own fantasies and talk to others about theirs, that what we want refracts reality. He actually would quite like to have a houseful of servants and he wouldn’t mind having it off with those in his employ who were willing (however they might, for the sake of their own enjoyment, pretend to be modestly unwilling . . . ).

Uh, I digress. The point is, I like the thought of being his maid–perhaps one of a houseful of servants. I had to admit that something in the thought of tending to him in that way appealed to me the day I found myself getting wet while vacuuming the living room rugs.

That day I had been running around outside in a pony tail, t-shirt, cotton knit shorts, and sneakers for hours. I was hot and sweaty and tired, but I couldn’t stop cleaning, and there I was, soaking my panties through just watching the vacuum move across the floor.

Not as sexy as this image, it’s true, but a pretty interesting moment in itself.

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Image of this well-dressed cleaning-lady by the Italian photographer Corrado Dalco’, via Unscathed Corpse. Lots more yummy stuff on Flickr . . .