Domesticated Read Free Page B

Olivia was born in the states, her parents migrated here from Pakistan years before she was born. Her mother was full Pakistani and her father was a white man. He owned a landscaping crew, although I had never hired him to do anything for me. I never met Olivia’s family. Garrison took care of the outside upkeep. I imagine he just had a monthly check sent to the company. 
    Olivia’s beauty was different than mine. She was so shallow and submissive. I never understood why she followed in her mother’s maid footsteps. She could have been so much more if she had her own backbone. It was her fault she was treated the way she was. She let it happen. I would have stood up to me long ago. If she was willing to take it, I was willing to give it. Plain and simple.
    I can say that now, but I spent many years under the authority of Adriana, never once standing up to her. If Olivia wanted to be a poor, beautiful girl under my power, then that was on her, not me. At least I wasn’t fake like Adriana was. I didn’t treat her any different around people than I did behind closed doors. Olivia probably knew me better than my husband and I’d been married to him for almost five years. Add the four years we dated and you would think he knew me better than anyone. He didn’t.
    Garrison let me know the very first time I suggested anything kinky that it was abnormal. He suggested that I talk to a therapist about it. Pffft, if he only knew. Of course, I never spoke to anyone about it. I had enough people in my life to make me feel anomalous. I didn’t need any more. It was after that instance of requesting a spanking from my fairly new husband that I branched out into the world of pornography.
    One might even say I held an addiction to the realm. I would argue that and say it wasn’t the pornography I was addicted to. It was my pussy and the way it felt almost hourly. There wasn’t an hour that passed when I didn’t think about my girly parts—or someone else’s girly or manly parts.
    Wondering what Olivia’s pussy looked like, I nonchalantly dropped my robe and took my time with finding something to wear. I stood exceptionally long in front of my closet, letting her see my toned ass while I decided on my attire for the day. “You can pack my panties if you want,” I offered from my position. I could have said undergarments. I didn’t want to say it that way. I wanted to say panties, desiring her to handle my personal garments, touch my panties, and hold them in her hands. Olivia of all people should know about my panties. I often wondered if she could see the discoloration from me soaking them with my overactive juices on a daily basis. She didn’t do the laundry, but she did retrieve my clothes from wherever I left them. I often made sure my panties were on top of a pile of clothes for her.
    Turning back to her with my naked self, I smiled in success, catching her eyes on my unclothed body. “I’m going to shower. You can pack my bathroom stuff, too, when you’re done here.”
    “Okay,” she said with a nod, moving her eyes from me to the task in front of her.
    Opening my phone, I went to my favorites. André McPherson. He was so yummy, yet serious in a dominating sort of way. I longed to have that, to have a man tell me to what to do while I submitted like a bad little girl. Garrison would never be that person.
    Bringing my foot to the seat of the toilet, I played with myself for the second time that day. It wasn’t even noon yet. I watched André slide down the girl’s panties and bend her over his knee. I closed my eyes, dragging my fingers through my wet slit, right to my overzealous clitoris. This was going to take two point seven seconds.
    I watched André spank the girl’s bare ass, marking her cheeks with red handprints. Olivia came to mind again, only this time, I was André and she was bent over my legs while I spanked her panty-less bottom. I stopped that thought right quick, feeling dirty or abnormal as my