Chapter 2: Laundry

"I'm out of laundry, again."

"Excuse me?"

"Aren't you going to invite me in?"

"Ahhh..." I looked at Kathryn through the doorway. It was 8am, and she was dressed for work in a slightly rumpled, but otherwise nice, tailored suit. "Uh, sure," I closed the door, undid the chain, and then let her in.

"I need all of my laundry done, preferably before I get home tonight."

"Okay," I said, puzzled.

Kathryn held up a key. "Great. Take this key, go into my apartment, and do my laundry. Take the dry-clean only items to the dry-cleaner, and machine wash the rest," Kathryn turned to leave.

"Hold on a second! You want me to do your laundry?"

"Yes," she said, simply, with smile that all but dared me to object.

"But..." I sputtered, stunned by her gall. "Why should I? What do I get out of this?"

"I noticed you didn't say 'no'."

"No!" I said, instantly. "I mean, no! Of course not."

"Too late! Listen, we both know that you want to do this. Think of everything you'll be getting out of this deal. First, you'll have access to my apartment. My 'inner temple'," Kathryn giggled.

"Second, you'll get to touch my clothes. Think of it," she gestured to the clothes that she was wearing: a nice simple blouse and tailored suit, "you will be handling clothes which have been caressing my body all day, soaking up my body smells, clothes which have been rubbing up against my naked skin and nestled within my most intimate places and crevices..."

I felt my penis shift in my pants. What the fuck?

Kathryn stepped closer to me - uncomfortably close. "And third," she said in a husky voice, "you'll be serving me. Which I think we both know, is what you desire more than anything else. To serve a woman. A deserving woman. A dominating woman. Isn't that right?"

I stepped back and shook my head for a second to clear it. "Listen, Kathryn, this is ridiculous. Why don't you just take your clothes to the cleaners and have them do it. I'm sure you can afford it."

"Too much trouble. It would be much easier for me if my clothes just magically cleaned themselves. Or rather, if some little elf - for example, a little elf who lived just down the hall ... for example, in this very room ... who's name is Paul..." Kathryn grinned, "for example, a little subservient elf like you, who worships me and wants to please me..."

I put a hand in my pocket, trying desperately to cover the growing bulge in my crotch.

" ... just automatically picked up all of my dirty laundry and cleaned it for me," Kathryn finished. "Every Monday."

"EVERY MONDAY?" I gasped. "No way. I'm sorry ... tempting," I tried to be sarcastic, "but no."

"So we're negotiating. Okay, fine. Let's make the job more demanding then, shall we?"

"What do you mean, more demanding?"

"Oh, I don't know..." Kathryn thought for a second, "Okay, how about this: I demand that you hand-wash all of my lingerie."

"What???"

"That's right. Before I allow you to do my laundry, you must agree to hand-wash all of my lingerie."

"No!"

"Still not enough?" Kathryn cut me off. "Fine. Now I am making you fold and put away all of my laundry as well."

"Kathryn please..."

"Think of it Paul, you'll be required - by me - to open my drawers and closets and replenish them with clean clothes. Privileged access!"

"Stop this! I am telling you, once and for all, I don't want to do your laundry for you!"

"So I see you want me to make the job even more difficult for you!"

"Will you please stop???"

"Honey," Kathryn said, sweetly, "the more you protest, the harder and more demanding the job will get. And the longer it will take you to complete it each week."

"Just go. Please, just leave me alone."

"Well okay. I had no idea how much you wanted to prove your devotion to me. How about this? You must now inspect all of my pantyhose for runs or wear. If any are damaged, you must go to the store and replace them..."

"Oh ... now you are just going too far."

" ... using your own money. As a gift to me," Kathryn said, with a supremely confident gaze.

"I don't believe this," I groaned.

"What you don't seem to realize is how well I know you. How much I know that each of these demands is making you more and more enthralled and more and more desperate to submit. Your conscious mind may not be ready to admit it, but deep down, I know you want this."

"You're wrong."

"Really? Well, let's make things a little more interesting then. A little more personal?" Kathryn ran a fingernail lightly down my arm. More intimate?"

She paused for a second, thinking carefully.

"Now this one is totally delicious," she continued. "I require that you smell every single piece of clothing in the apartment before you wash it."

My eyes opened up round as saucers. "What did you just say?"

Kathryn smiled. "Each piece of clothing, right? I want you to find the dirtiest, smelliest part, and hold it right up to your nose, and take a deep whiff. This is what I demand of you before I allow you to be of service to me."

"But ... why... ?" I could feel my confidence starting to slip, just a bit.

"All I want is a simple 'yes'," Kathryn said. "No debate. No backtalk. No questions. Just 'yes'. Until then, we keep upping the ante. Next demand: every time you smell a piece of clothing, you must say, out-loud, 'I worship this smell.'"

"I worship this smell," I repeated.

"That's still not 'yes'," she said. "And for every pair of panties, before you wash them, you must plant a nice, worshipful kiss on the inside crotch, at the point where the gusset is the dirtiest."

"Yes."

Kathryn stopped. "What was that?" she asked.

"Yes," I said, just a bit louder.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I didn't hear you. It couldn't have been a 'yes.' You just got done saying how you could never, ever, on a stack of bibles say 'yes'."

"Yes!"

"Yes, what?"

"Yes ... please," I said, defeated. "Yes, please."

"Yes please, what?" Kathryn prompted, twisting the knife.

"Yes, please," I blushed, "I would like to do your laundry. Yes ... yes ... please, may I do your laundry ... every Monday."

"Very good, my little elf," Kathryn smiled warmly at me, patting my red-hot cheek. "I expect to be home by 6:30pm, so I want all my laundry done by 5pm at the latest, just to be safe. Do you understand?"

"Yes," I said, eyes downcast.

"I do not want to hear from you, I do not want to see you, I do not want to know that you even exist. All I want is for my clothes to be magically clean every Monday. Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

"Yes, Kathryn."

"Excellent! Here's the key."

And with that, she left.

So many dirty clothes. Soiled clothes. Soiled with sweat, and underarms, and feet, and her anus, and vaginal emissions. Dresses and pants suits draped over chairs. Socks randomly strewn about. Piles of underwear next to the bed. A clothes hamper in the bathroom stuffed full and overflowing on the floor.

So many very damp, musky, fragrant clothes ... all of which I would need to smell, many of which I would need to kiss...

My penis was getting hard. Damn, I thought to myself. Already?

"Beep! Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzt." My ears perked up. I carefully picked my way into what must be her study where I saw the fax machine ejecting a piece of paper.

'CONTRACTUAL AGREEMENT FOR PAUL BENSON' the paper said.

I picked up the paper and read it.

CONTRACTUAL AGREEMENT FOR PAUL BENSON

I, Paul Benson, agree to provide weekly laundry service to Kathryn McDonough. I further agree to the following terms and conditions:

1. I will clean all of the dirty clothes that I find in Kathryn McDonough's apartment.

2. Clothes will be cleaned every Monday between 10am and 5pm. No Monday may be skipped for any reason, including holidays.

3. All clothes, except those which require dry cleaning, will be cleaned personally by Paul Benson.

4. For each and every item of clothing I find in Kathryn's apartment, I will gladly perform the following ritual: a. I will locate the most soiled spot on the clothing. b. I will hold this spot to my nose, and will breath in deeply through my nose - making sure to get the most pungent possible smell of the soiled garment. c. As I breath in, I will say, out-loud: "I worship this smell."

5. If the garment is a pair of panties, briefs, or underpants, I will find the inside gusset, the part of the underwear which was in the most intimate contact with the wearer's crotch, and I will place a 'worshipful kiss' on it, while contemplating how lucky I am to have the job of being Kathryn's launderer.

6. If the garment is a pair of pantyhose, I will inspect the pantyhose carefully for runs, and if I find any I will replace the pantyhose with a similar pair, using my own funds.

7. I will hand-wash all items of lingerie. This means carefully following the instructions, and washing these delicate items in a sink or basin using my bare hands as much as possible.

8. Once clean and dry, I will fold and return all clothes to their proper location within Kathryn's apartment.

9. If I damage any piece of clothing, I realize that I will need to replace it with an item of equal if not better quality at my own expense.

10. Further, I will bear all costs for this service, including all cleaning supplies and dry-cleaner bills.

11. I agree to forfeit any right of termination. I understand that only Kathryn may terminate this agreement, and that I must perform these services, at her pleasure, for as long as she may desire them.

Signed, your humble servant:

I looked that the paper in amazement. No termination clause? Every Monday? No vacations? What was she thinking?

I walked back to her bedroom, reading the contract a second time. On the bed, I noticed a pair of light pink cotton panties.

I picked them up. They were so small! How could she fit in these? How they must cling to her body when she wears them. I looked carefully at the delicate lace trim around the waistband. Gently, I opened them up, and looked inside.

Oh.

The crotch was still damp. Had she been wearing these last night? Did she just take them off this morning? Could that be possible?

I held the damp crotch to my nose and took a deep, deep, smell.