So why am I just figuring this out now, you ask? Call it a flowering of my feminine side. The Little French Maid fantasy is common enough that for a long time it was background noise for me, a cliche. I had to find a way to make the fantasy my own before inviting the Dominants I meet to make it theirs in turn, so that for Them I could become a better, more submissive gurl.

...and then you're thrown back to work to struggle and toil while you await your Dominant’s next flurry of passion. Again, that kind of is in the Little French Maid's job description.

It comes when you least expect it...the grasp of your wrist while you're wiping the kitchen counter, the trace of a suede flogger's tails across your shoulder blades while you're scouring some stubborn bolognese stain from the dining nook floor, the telltale pulse between your ass cheeks as you're grabbed tight from behind while you're vacuuming the couch...and just like that your command of your actions is revoked, your limits are tested to reveal desires you never knew you had, your body pleads for mercy while your spirit screams for more...


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