Gutterslime

- Giving vague instructions and punishing them until they figure out the very intricate and detailed things I actually want from them.

- Dressing them up in a humiliating little maid outfit I can flip up or pull down.

- Tying their arms and skirt above their head so I can watch them struggle to do… anything, really.

- Tripping them up and pushing them over, undoing the work they did, or stopping them from working just to make them do degrading things because I find it funny.

- Tying their hands behind their back and shoving a duster in their mouth or between their tits.

- Teasing them with the tip of my heel until they make a mess, then making them clean it up with their tongue.

- Dragging them across the floor by their underwear. (to sweep, obviously)

- Propeller wedgie with a broom.

- Spanking with a dustpan.

- Spray them with a spray bottle of water. (soak their shirt and ban bras, or spray between their legs)

- Make them use their panties as a cleaning rag.

Most people would never understand why you would accept such a downgrade. To go from his wife, love of his life, to his made, barely glanced at, would drive most people insane. Hell, most of his money came from you as you let him get everything in the divorce.

But deep in your heart, you knew it was the right call. From the moment you had met him, you knew you'd be willing to do anything for him.

When you realized he was cheating on you, you were heartbroken. Afraid of losing him, you beg him to give you another chance. Instead, he offered you something different.

"Be my maid and serve me and my lover. You already cook and clean for me. You massage my feet and my shoulders every night. I know you love me, so lets see how deep that love goes."

Doing chores is hotter when you do it for a man.

Your work shift is hotter when you do it for a man.

After a few minutes i can get up from the ground and get to the room. U scream at me that i didnt got ur beer. I run to the kitchen to get ur beer while u counted the money. ,, Good job cunt u made me 100$ more today,, i looked at u exhausted as i coudnt feel my legs at all after runnin around at my 3 jobs u found for me, making sure i have the hardest and mist disgusting chores

boyfriend that makes me pay him to text me

boyfriend that makes me pick a random number and requests ten times that amount of money from me

boyfriend that makes me pay him for every minute he’s on the phone with me

boyfriend that makes me pay him to get permission from him

boyfriend that forces me to stay at home while he goes out and uses my card

boyfriend that requests money just because

boyfriend that makes me pay him to bully me

boyfriend that locks me in his basement and refuses to let me out until i pay him

boyfriend that takes me out on dates and makes me pay

boyfriend that makes me pay him as a thank you after i have cleaned for him

boyfriend that ties me up and doesn’t untie me until i pay him

boyfriend that makes me pay him to pay attention to me

boyfriend that uses my money only for himself

boyfriend that gives me an allowance from my own money and keeps the rest

boyfriend that makes me pay him to insult me

“Do it with your mouth open.”

I hesitated, but after you reach forward and slap my cheek, I let my jaw drop and start chewing, mentally cringing at the noise I was making.

You barked out a laugh.

“That’s awesome,” you said grinning, roving my face but not bothering to speak to me. “You look like a cow in sparkly eyeshadow.” My face burned under my pound of foundation, and I could feel myself already starting to leak through my barely there g string.

“You know when cows chew on grass and they just stare ahead at nothing? You’re the spitting image. God, those lashes are great.” You laughed again. “I’m glad I decided on the thicker ones, because there is zero light in your eyes right now. I’m looking at a couple of dead bulbs.”

I heard a short, desperate sound exit my wide open mouth, and even though thinking about how pathetic I sounded sent a bolt of arousal straight from my brain to my cunt, I kept chewing. My gaze started getting blurry and I realized that my eyes were crossing without me trying to. I could feel the wetness between my legs demanding my focus and all I knew was that I wanted, I didn’t know if it was to be fucked or to blow you or to crawl around on the ground, I just wanted something and I was aching to be told to do it.

I felt your hand wrap around my slack jaw, your thumb stroking me gently. But then you started squeezing, squashing my lips together, and I stop because you were almost holding my mouth shut and I could barely move my jaw. You tisk.

“Keep chewing.”

I whimpered plaintively for a moment, not a true attempt at denying you so much as a vocal expression of the fact that I knew I wouldn’t — an empty, meaningless little noise that made you grin when you heard it, because I started chewing again even as I made it. It took twice as much force to move my jaw with your hand in the way, and with every chomp i couldn’t even touch the gum, it was just undelivered, mindless motion that I was doing because I was told to. The thought made me clench again. I didn’t even realize you had pulled out your phone until I heard the little snapping sound of the camera.

“Awhh,” I said, sounding like I was at the dentist office.

“Jesus Christ,” you hissed. You continued snapping photos of me without my input, as if I was just a spectacle that you were trying to catch. Even through my blurry mind, I could see the unapologetic grin on your face. You turned my head so you could get a picture from the side. I made another useless noise and kept chewing, kept up the limited pulsing movement of my distorted lips between your hand. The camera snapped.

I felt ridiculous. I was ridiculous to you, like a pet who had gotten tangled in a blanket or their head stuck in a jar. And that was it, wasn’t it? It hadn’t occurred to me, but with my face hidden and remade under a mask of makeup that had taken me two hours with my hair dyed and styled, in an outfit that I would not regularly wear if you paid me, I did not look like myself. I look less like the person I am, and more like the inflated image that I’ve happily let you dress me in. I look less like someone with a name and more like something you can fuck and tell your friends about. When I’m like this, I’m not exactly an animal, but I’m a hell of a lot closer to being a cow or a dog or a blow up doll than I am to being a human. And the weird thing was, that felt fine. It felt good. It actually felt really good somehow, so fucking good. It felt really good to know that with you, my humanity is a secondary trait.

With that realization warming my cunt, I started chewing with more force, shamelessly letting each lift of my jaw push out clacking, slopping, saliva driven sounds. My head itself moved in odd small jerky motion as I tried so hard to do what you wanted, to chew the very best that I could within the tight constraint of your hand. I stared off into space and chewed mindlessly, completely forgetting that you had wanted me to chew the gum. God, I hoped I would entertain you, I hoped that I would be stupid looking enough to make you keep looking at me. Just thinking that made me so fucking wet, and I let out another “Awhhaw” through your hands. And I realized that I liked how it sounded, so I did it again, and again, letting myself moan the way I had kept myself from doing earlier, feeling so pleased with the way it distorted. What was once a human sound of pleasure was now just something from the primal, unaware, whining, whimpering, gagging mind of an animal.

I hadn’t heard the camera snap in a while, but that hardly mattered. But then, gently, you tugged my head back so that I could face you again and I saw what you looked like.

You had a look of quiet amazement on your face, drinking in this thing I had let myself become right in front of you. You were still holding the camera up, but you looked too enthralled by my display to take a picture. This made me moan inhumanly again, the thought that I had been able to keep your attention. I was so, so proud of myself. Under my skirt, I felt my cunt juice finally start dribbling down my leg. I was so proud of myself.

My leaking cunt, as always, fueled my action, and I renewed my efforts again, chewing twice as shamelessly as before. Once again, my eyes lost focus completely, every last ounce of brainpower now being devoted to moaning, chewing, and drooling.

“Stupid cow.” I heard you mutter, and I clenched and moaned. “Stop chewing.”

I immediately stopped mid chew. “Agh?” My cow brain asked him, waiting for his direction.

You pulled your hand away, and instantly a thick line of saliva fell from my lips.

You held out your hand to catch it. “Don’t want that on the floor,” you said. “But you know what? I also don’t want this shit in my hand.” You held out your hand full of my spit.

“Lick it clean.”

Without any hesitation I leaned my head forward and stretched out my tongue, but then you suddenly lowered your hand, and I had to chase it downward with my tongue so that I was bent at the waist. I happily started lapping at my own spit. I felt your hand lowering again, and I continued to chase it without complaint, until finally I had to settle on my knees. You seemed content to keep it there, so I resumed licking my spit out of your hand.

Far above me, I heard you chuckle. “See? I told you,” you said with a fond tone in your voice, “You really doubted me, but a few months ago I told you that I’d have you eating out of my hand. And look,” you pulled your now clean hand away and showed it to me, “mission accomplished! Good job!” The praise made me clench again.

“Now. Look at me.” I raised my face, my tongue still out, and looked at you with open, adoring eyes.

“Say ‘thank you, Daddy’” you said in a patronizing lead.

“Aangoohh ahaeee,” I said, mimicking you.

You laughed. I clenched. “Good girl.”

I moaned again at that. “Anngoooh ahheee,” I repeated. I wasn’t really sure what I was thanking you for, but that was okay.

You laughed once more and finally lowered your phone from where you’d been holding it.

You sighed and said, “I can’t wait to watch this over.”

I froze. My tongue retreated back into my mouth.

Filming, my mind supplied, he had been filming. Shit shit shit.

When a tinny moan rang out in the room, my eyes shot back up to you to see you grinning at your phone.

“I honestly think this is one of your best moments.”

You turn it around to show me, and what I see horrifies me, makes my heart pound, and makes me so wet.

A bleach blonde girl I can barely recognize as myself looks past the camera with dead eyes as a hand squashes her inflated pout into undulating fish lips. She moans obscenely, bits of drool making their way between the midpoint of where her distorted lips meet. I watch, enraptured, as she gets on her knees and starts licking the spit filled hand like an animal at a petting zoo.

You take back the phone. I watch as you smile at it again. “This is great.” You put it in your pocket and reach down to cup my face. I lean into it.