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2. Mister Kneeler, House Husband
"Ed, my new secretary and her husband are joining us for dinner. Have a ham and trimmings ready by seven, do everything up nice and the outfit on your schedule for today will be fine."
"Yes, Ma'am. Will you be arriving with them?"
"I don't know, Pet. They may arrive before me so be a darling and entertain them in that situation." Sarah hung up the phone without listening for a reply.
Edward was the bright, very young engineer at another firm when they met right after Sarah earned her PhD. He was neat, even in his own home, polite, proper, and brilliant. Sarah was a single mother and saw Ed as a potential energetic life partner, as well as father figure and mentor to her daughter, Suzanne. Those ideas fell apart when the extent of his submissiveness emerged. She could not stand having a submissive lover, at least one more submissive than her. Over the years, it consumed him and completely changed their relationship. Instead of husband and stepfather, he slowly became chauffer/butler/babysitter and tutor, until Suzanne went off to school and Sarah’s unwanted advantage grew greater. He still attended to all the household duties with an almost psychic ability to anticipate what Sarah wanted. Besides household chores, he facilitated Sarah’s 'social' schedule and cleaned up after.
Just after four o'clock, as he was putting everything into the ovens to cook, Ed heard the doorbell. "Who can that be? We are not expecting any deliveries." He checked the monitor to see a small framed woman with a great “tight” figure. She turned to face the camera and the impression changed dramatically. Her wrinkled face suggested that she was perhaps fifty or sixty. The effect on her neck-length hair was dramatic; from the back appearing platinum blonde, but combined with her face, it was most definitely white. She wore a tight golden satin blouse, tight black skirt, sheer black stockings, and tall black pumps. Everything was simple, from the gold ankle chain to the gold chain necklace, watch, and bracelet. Ed opted to answer through the intercom, "May I help you miss?"
"Mister Kneeler? I'm Misses Clarke, your wife's new secretary."
Greeting one of her guests through the intercom sent Ed into a panic. He almost dropped the pan of potatoes before slamming them into the oven and punching the cook program. He ran through the house to the front door. "Misses Clarke, I must apologize, I was not expecting anybody for a few hours."
Nancy was surprised with the frail, sniveling brown-haired creature not much taller than herself that greeted her, holding an apron, wearing a custom-tailored teal button-down, khakis, and loafers. Even his watch was of a feminine preppy style. She was expecting Mister Kneeler to be something more like an executive or entrepreneur who just enjoyed the kitchen, maybe even worked from home, but still big and powerful, like her husband Joe. She did not even have to think about how to work this into her plan, it fit all too well.
"Thank you for the apology. When a woman says “any time” to come by her house, I take her at her word. Show me around?"
"Yes, yes of course Misses Clarke," Ed said as he watched Nancy strut through the foyer, pull out a cigarette and drop her purse on the lamp table. "Misses Clarke, we don't . . . um, we do not smoke in the house . . .”
"Light me," she said with her gruff voice in full growl, and turned her head barely enough to see him from the corner of her eye. The timid Edward obeyed, took the glittery butane lighter from her hand, and nervously flicked it three times before getting a flame. 'More good signs,' she thought. 'Doesn't take much to control this one.' As soon as Nancy pulled a puff, she walked toward the stairs as Ed stared, hypnotized at her strut. "Come, boy, what are you waiting for?"
"Yes, of course Misses Clarke. I just need to find an ashtray or plate . . .”
"Nonsense, your hands will do, if you are quick," she said as she flicked an ash onto the white carpet.
"Misses Clarke!"
"Hurry, before I do it again," she growled.
Ed hurried to catch up with Nancy and escorted her up the stairs, holding his hands out whenever Nancy was ready to deposit another ash. If the Woman of the House saw that ash, he would be in for a severe punishment. "This is her office. It is always locked unless she is using it."
"Unlock it."
"Misses Clarke, I am sorry, but even I do not have a key to that room. The rest of the home, yes, but not to there."
"Very well. What is that room across the hall?"
"The guest room."
"Really now. Does she have many guests overnight? Over the weekend?"
"Oh yes, quite often . . . " his voice trailed off as if he had already fallen for a trick. The look of shame on his face betrayed him even more.
"Show me."
He escorted her across the hall to the guest room, catching her ashes along the way. She was impressed at his ability to catch the ashes even when she tried to catch him off guard. Apparently, Sarah had trained him better than any houseboy submissive Nancy had encountered. She did not merely look at the room; it was more like an inspection. Simply furnished, a wedding picture of him and Sarah next to one of the daughter on the nightstand, neatly made bed, men's clothes, of his size and style, neatly hung in the closet. "You are the guest in this house, little Eddie, aren’t you. Do you take me for some fool? I really do not like being taken for a fool. Misses Kneeler and I have been at the same firm for years and run in some of the same circles. Don't you think I know what she really is by now?"
"I am sorry, Misses Clarke," he stammered, "she never mentioned you before. I was only told to make dinner and entertain you and your husband until she arrives."
She approached him confidently, cigarette butt extended in her hand. "Get rid of this and show me where the guests stay with her for real. I was picked to be her executive secretary for a reason and you are going to start cooperating. Oh, yes, you are already entertaining me. Let’s see if it can become enjoyable instead of a chore?"
Edward took the cigarette and flushed it down the toilet in his room. 'His' small bathroom had nothing but a toilet and sink, no shower or tub. Everything was sparkling clean and neat, the way he kept the entire house. After washing his hands, he escorted Nancy down the hall towards the door at the end. He fumbled with a set of keys to unlock it. "Congratulations on your new position, Misses Clarke, I did not know that she had been promoted to executive. Sorry for being so in the dark about things . . ."
"She is not an executive, yet, she should have been years ago. She will be soon and you will help me. Understand? You can stop with any deception. How did you expect to explain having to unlock the master bedroom and convince anybody that you are nothing more than her cuckold?"
"I . . . I don't know. I never had to explain it before."
"So, everybody you have given the tour to knows now?"
"No, I mean I have never done this before. The Woman of the House does that and she never shows the upstairs if it is a visit from coworkers, or just dinner."
"From now on, whenever she tells you that others will be in the house, you get the doors unlocked and look like you are her man, unless instructed otherwise. Understand?"
"Yes Misses Clarke," he said as he unlocked the door. In a striking difference from the contemporary decor of the rest of the house, the bedroom theme was vibrant and classic. The wall-coverings of the giant bedroom were of fine red cloth with a gold foliage pattern. Polished hardwood floors and a higher ceiling than the rest of the rooms on the floor gave a slight echo to Nancy's shoes. In the center, a giant canopy bed, much larger than king-size, with heavy wooden posts sat atop a beautiful Persian rug. Large plush pillows, silk sheets, velvet blankets. An ornate, heavy cherry dresser opposite the bed, large wardrobe, nightstands with polished brass hardware. Assorted chairs, all very well made. Even the simple, armless straight back chair was sturdy, with heavy dowels forming the back. Of the many bedrooms she had seen, this was one of the most beautiful. It took her a while before noticing the additional functionality of the furniture. Every corner of the bed, dresser, and nightstands, had a strong, recessed brass ring with a brass backing attached. The bolts went all the way through to the other side of the post, or rail, with a nut securing it through another brass plate. Other anchors were spaced evenly in-between. This setup could hold anything short of a massive wild beast.
"Beautiful room. Show me the rest."
Ed turned to show Suzanne's room and Nancy barked, "The rest of this room."
"But Miss, the rest of her room is private . . ."
"Show me."
Edward opened the ornate wooden doors on the far side of the room. Doors he had not touched in years. They opened to a 'closet' as big as a regular bedroom. Rack upon rack of business wear that Nancy had remembered seeing Sarah wear at SJE, some she had never seen, along with rows and rows of beautiful shoes and boots, a few with 3" heels, the rest progressively taller. In the back, there were other things. Costumes, toys, playthings, and fetishwear. She walked to the back, reached out, examined, and fondled the ‘play’ sets. She sniffed one of the gas masks, and a few other items. "Eddie, some of these things, like the gas masks, look more like your size than hers. Are they for you?"
Ed stuttered answering the question, "No, I have never worn any of these things."
"Eddie, who wears them?"
"Misses Clarke, I really do not know. When she is with others, they spend their time privately. I rarely get to see."
"Eddie, when was the last time you were allowed to play?"
"Um, Misses Clarke, I really do not know if I would be allowed to answer that, even if I could remember and I truly cannot remember."
"Eddie, when was the last time you got off? The last time you ejaculated?"
"That was this morning, Ma'am."
Nancy noticed his transition into calling her 'Ma'am', another good sign; he was surrendering control to her.
"Do you need permission from Misses Kneeler for that?"
"Yes, Ma'am. In this case, it was pre-approved permission. The Woman of the House was happy with the outfit I picked for her and the way she looked after I dressed her and did her makeup. If she says she is happy with her outfit I have permission," he said with a satisfied smile. He did not even notice that he was obeying her as if she was introduced to him as someone to obey.
"Who picks your clothes?"
"The Woman of the House, Ma’am. They are on my schedule. She gives me changes when her plans change."
"How often is she pleased with what you pick for her?"
"Most always, Ma'am."
"Good, something useful for me too. Now, show me the other bedroom."
On command, he escorted Nancy to Suzanne's room. "Are those pictures of your daughter and wife?" Nancy asked, looking at the 'wall of Suzanne', multiple electronic picture frames showing mother and daughter at every sort of activity with accompanying medals, ribbons, and certificates. Ed was missing from them.
"Ma'am, she is not my daughter, but I reared her while the Woman of the House advanced her career."
"Oh, I see," Nancy said with her smug tone returning. "She is beautiful, almost a clone of her mother, just not quite as tall."
"Yes Ma'am, even more athletic than the Woman of the House and brilliant too. She is a pleasure to tutor."
"I can see where she could be a temptation, since you two are not really related to each other."
"No Ma'am, not at all. I have never had thoughts . . ."
"Shush, I told you about treating me like a fool. Do it again and that wife of yours will be sorry, understand?"
"Ma'am, please don't hurt her because of my mistakes? I truly think of Suzanne as a daughter, not a romantic partner."
"What about a fuckbuddy?"
"No! Never, I swear!" Nancy read his expression as one of both fear and honesty, and then grudgingly accepted his answer without adding another punishment for Sarah in her mental tally.
"Well, I am sure Miss Sarah's long weekend orgy guests look at her that way. It is impossible not to."
Edward did not comment as he followed her back to the master bedroom. He had overheard comments from Sarah’s lovers like that. Sometimes Sarah would stop play for the night over the comments and it was rare for those guests to return.
"Edward, get that straight-back wooden chair and place it at the foot of the bed."
"Yes Misses Clarke," he said and did it with a bit of a struggle.
"How do you turn on the intercoms so we can hear all of the downstairs up here in this room?"
"Just enter a '1' in the keypad, Ma'am, it will feed the whole first floor. The monitors are set the same way if you want visual."
"Good boy, now do that, just for sound, and sit in the chair."
Edward complied to-the-letter. Nancy approached; she gently kissed and aroused him. It had been so long since he had any romantic contact that he ejaculated in his pants almost immediately.
"Oh, so you find me an attractive woman?" Nancy said with a smile as she rubbed Ed’s chest through his shirt. To her surprise, his chest was firm, he just had a small frame.
"Oh yes, Misses Clarke, you are pretty and sensual . . .” He stopped in mid sentence. The simplest of affection by a wrinkled old woman twice his age with a whiskey and cigarette voice made him cum explosively and without permission. His wife could kick him out as soon as he reported it. He had not worked for years; he could be living in a box in days . . .
Nancy saw the terror in his eyes and spoke softly, "Oh, you didn't have permission for that from her, did you?" Her throaty tone somehow sounded sexy to him, causing him to squirt in his pants again.
"No, no Ma'am, I didn't . . ."
"That's okay baby, I give you permission," she said before swirling her tongue gently in his mouth.
"But . . . but Misses Clarke . . . she did not give me permission . . . herself . . ." His voice trailed off in shame.
"She told you to entertain me, yes?"
"Yes, Ma’am," he stammered.
"Then it must be okay. It brought you into good report territory." Nancy, like many women her age and especially of her lifestyle, had a fancy for younger men and took the opportunity to arouse him more, slip his khakis down, pull her panties aside, and straddle him to make love.
"Misses Clarke, you are so t . . . tight inside," he whispered in surprise. It felt like his first time with a teenager.
Nancy too felt like she was getting a teenage virile virgin as she played his emotions and body for her pleasure and allowed him to think it was his reward. For another reward, a deep, passionate kiss, not like the little ones earlier, the first like that for him in years. His pent up passion and emotion poured out from him, she could feel what little power he had left as it pumped into her with every explosive shot. It made her feel like a woman who still 'had it' and could easily seduce a man half her age. She did not even have to unbutton her blouse and he was crying in joy beneath her, thanking her profusely.
"Eddie, you stay right here in the chair. I am going down to greet your Mistress, understand?"
Ed gulped, "Yes, Ma'am. I . . . I am probably in the deepest trouble . . ."
"Eddie, you did as told. Nobody will not hurt you unless I allow it. I will keep an eye on the ovens too, we don't want anything ruined. Everybody will be very hungry by dinner. Now, listen carefully for a list of things to have ready up here by the time she arrives." With that, Nancy left him, and then he heard her harsh voice barking orders to him through the first floor intercom. Ed obeyed and entered the closet to gather gear and prepare it.
Nancy started with a quick survey of the house and then moved on to snooping into every corner as she shouted orders to Ed. She examined the living room, kitchen, and den monitors. An interesting feature only the den monitor had, all of the family cars could be tracked from there. The new Mercedes was still in the garage of SJE Enterprises, the van was in the garage and the Porsche was in Boston. Nancy thought to herself, ‘so, their hot little bitch daughter is going to a fancy Boston school like Joe’s son. Even better . . .’ She figured out how to have the system alert her when Sarah's car moved, then settled in to watch some erotica from Sarah's playlist while figuring out the whole-house recording system. Interesting, she thought, the common theme was blondes in various levels of submission. The most 'mild' was a young blonde seduced by a coworker and it had the most views. The majority were intense bondage and rape themes, every one with a beautiful blonde as the victim. She made one call to her husband and told him to be ready by eight o'clock, asking he wait outside until called in.