Quite well, for me.

I walked through the house, inspecting every room we’d been in. Her office was clean, though she had left the dildo and vibrator on her desk. I could call that misbehavior, if I wanted to. The living room was likewise clean, though it was missing a cushion altogether, which was interesting.

She had remembered the dishes I’d used, they were moved into the dishwasher. She’d remembered to scrape the dishes, but, I smirked, she hadn’t remembered to run the waste disposal.

I checked my bedroom, it was fine, Diamond caught up to me as I walked out. “Mr. Cain, I paid for the expedited delivery, the food will be here in twenty minutes.”

“Good girl.” She smiled broadly at that, as she stood in front of me, a piece of paper in her hands, her essay. I’d read it over breakfast, for now, “Let’s inspect your bedroom next.”

She looked at me, ashamed, and frowned, “I’m sorry, Mr. Cain, I didn’t realize you’d be checking that, I didn’t clean it.”

“I told you to clean the house.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Cain.”

“Show me.”

Her room was actually mostly fine. Their housekeeper did a good job. But some of her clothes were cast around and her bed was unmade. She instantly began cleaning up, under my gaze. The clothes were no problem, but she was doing a terrible job of making her bed. Partly because she wasn’t familiar with the process and partly because she really wasn’t used to doing it in heels.

I stepped behind her and guided her hands through the process, doing my best to ignore her as she pressed that ass against me. “That’s how you make a bed. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Mr. Cain.”

“A good girl’s bed is always made, unless she’s sleeping in it, or getting fucked in it.”

“Yes, Mr. Cain.”

“Now the laundry room.”

She nodded.

The laundry room was actually worse, though she didn’t realize that. The cushion was badly stained and she’d just put the whole thing into the large sink to soak, rather than removing the cover and all the clothes were just dumped in the laundry basket. I explained the cushion was destroyed, soaking it overnight, it needed to be thrown away and the cushion replaced. The covering could be saved.

I walked her through the laundry and measuring for the replacement pillow. Then I had her take the cushion out to their garbage can when our food arrived.

She looked at me with wide eyes, as she stood their in her bikini and stripper heels. “But, Mr. Cain…”

I smiled, “Put on a coat, silly girl. I have no desire to share my toy with the world.”

She blushed at my phrasing, I was getting better at seeing that, despite her dark skin. And our food came in. She set the table, but before we ate, I took her through the rest of the house, lingering over the waste disposal and having her show me where she kept the sex toys, the back of her nightstand, which I had her return them to.

Finally we went down to the dining room. She started to kneel by my side, but I shook my head. “You eat at the table this time, but not until I finish reviewing your essay.”

“Yes, Mr. Cain.”

I glanced at the food, “You should probably keep that warm, your failure to properly clean has put us behind schedule.”

She looked like I’d punched her in the stomach, but she obediently took away the food and gave me the essay.

A Good Girl’s BDSM Session,

By Little Diamond Jackson, Age 45

Sir,

You assigned me to write this essay on what I enjoyed and didn’t enjoy in this session.

I got up and went to find a red pen, which I drew through that and replaced that with ‘what worked and what didn’t,’ you may find something worked for you, even if you didn’t enjoy it.

I’ll write this as a compliment sandwich. Starting with what I really, really, REALLY liked, which was that last orgasm, where you made me ruin my couch. That was insane. I’ve never experienced anything like it. Being pinned down, being helpless as you fucked me like an animal, like a piece of meat, until you fill me with your cum.

That was everything I was hoping for and more. Literally the best orgasm of my life. I loved it.

I cannot say the same about the domestic chores, or your attempts at boosting my self esteem. I hate cooking and cleaning and all that shit. Being made to do it isn’t sexy, it’s just a reminder of my everyday life and everything I worked so hard to get away from. I’ll do it, but I don’t enjoy it.

I circled it and added a comment, “With the additional context, does this work for you, or not?”

As for the argument about my pussy juices, I appreciate the message of self-love, but I don’t need it. And it doesn’t work, you’re hardly going to eat your cum, but I’ll happily do that. It’s different when its your own, and you know it.

I circled that last part. “Legitimate point. There’s a difference, I wonder if you can figure it out.” It continued,

Besides, no man actually enjoys licking pussy, it’s just what they do to get women to give them head, or if their dick doesn’t measure up.

I drew a line through that. Diamond had come back and was watching me edit her essay, a little incredulously.

“Lie down on the couch,” I ordered. She obeyed, leaving the room as I added a comment, “Do you still believe this?”

The other issue I have is that you keep having me make decisions. Give me choices. I thought the whole point of this was to relieve me of those burdens. I have to make choices all day, every day, I thought the point of this was that you’d make all the choices for me.

But…every choice has immediate consequences, then its over, isn’t it? If I choose to disobey, I’m punished, if I choose to obey, I’m rewarded and there’s still always choices. It’s immediacy and safety that you offer? That’s worth something. A lot, really.

That didn’t need a comment, as she’d figured it out. Or come up with a reason, really it was more that I enjoyed her choosing to please me.

Back to compliments, I’m really glad you’ve stayed away from comments about my family. I know doing this at my house makes things a bit awkward on that front, especially since you don’t know any of them, but you haven’t commented on them, or my relationships. That’s probably more than I could manage if I’d given someone else the best orgasm of their life.

I damn sure had wanted to rub that in, brag, boast, but I didn’t actually have anything against Andre, he seemed fine. I circled the ‘my house’ part and wrote a comment suggesting future scenes might happen elsewhere, if she was comfortable with that.

The punishments are fair and don’t interfere with my enjoyment. I’m not really sure they add to it either, to be honest, though? I much prefer praise to punishment, it has to be admitted. Which brings me to the compliment I want to end on, when you call me your good girl that does things to me that I wasn’t expecting. I learned a lot about myself and I enjoyed it so far.

I considered that and the fact that though I’d called her a ‘good girl’ I’d never called her ‘my good girl’ because it came awful close to ownership talk, which I’d been avoiding…

In scenes I’ve seen online (and I don’t think it’ll come as any surprise to you that those are my primary sources of information about how this should go) there’s a lot more degradation, a lot more insults. I don’t think I would enjoy that, but how can I know, unless we try?

I drew an arrow to the question, “Needs a different scene, I think.”

Yours Truly,

Diamond Jackson

I walked out into the living room, where she was waiting, as she started to ask what was going on, I dove between her legs and got to work.

She squealed as I ate her towards a rapid orgasm, “Mr. Cain, may I cum?” she whimpered.

For the first time, I said yes, and kept eating her through the orgasm, then through her post-orgasmic sensitivity, which made her twitch and writhe, until I finally pulled away and kissed her firmly on the lips.

“I enjoyed that. Believe me,” I commanded.

“I do, Mr. Cain. I do,” she assured me repeatedly.

“My good girl,” I whispered and she shuddered against me, grinding against my thigh, then froze.

“Now, go get the food ready.”

As punishment, after a bit of consideration, I decided that whenever not actively doing something else with her hands, she was to be edging herself. That made the meal quite entertaining.

I still had most of the day to go, though I was getting out of here at about six in the afternoon and I would end the scene a bit early,

So my next planned activity was…