Michael pushed the hot iron back and forth across the light blue board. The searing heat smoothed every crease and wrinkle in his Goddess’ suit jacket. He was ironing her work clothes; a task he performed every week. The gentle swish-swish of the iron was a pleasing sound. One he remembered fondly from his childhood. In those days, it was almost exclusively women who did the ironing. Oh, how things had changed.

Once finished, he set the iron upright, unplugged it and left it to cool. He collected Mistress’ clothes, which were now displayed neatly on hangers. Not those thin metal hangers or the cheap plastic kind. Smooth hangers with wooden encasement over the steel interior. He’d learned in recent years that those were the best kind. He’d learned so much thanks to his new life with Mistress Janet.

Chief among those experiences was a crash course in domestic servitude that had trained him into an obedient male submissive and efficient house husband. They weren’t married in the traditional sense, but now that they’d been together for a number of years, they were practically common law husband and wife. At least they would’ve been, if the old rules and standards still applied. They were all being rewritten with great haste.

It wasn’t always this way. Not so long ago, Michael had a standard nine to five job and a girlfriend that seemed happy enough to play homemaker while working a part time on the side. He and Claudia were thinking about starting a family when the world started to transform. Neither of them were prepared for the tidal wave of female domination.

After Michael lost his job, he couldn’t find another one. Not a good position that would pay the bills and provide good benefits like he used to have. Those jobs began to blip out of existence for men and never came back. Claudia supported him at first. She worked more while her boyfriend got his first taste of domestic chores and cooking. They were both ill equipped for the sudden change and hated it at first. Their relationship didn’t survive.

It wasn’t long after when Michael met Janet. A confident, attractive, auburn-haired Amazon who was ten years his senior. She seemed eminently more prepared for the new world. You could say it fit her like a latex glove. After a few drinks at a local bar, Michael fell under her spell. Despite her stern nature, she had a warm, understanding side. She’d listened to his troubles, nodded along, soothed his anxieties and before long, was outlining exactly what Michael needed. A strong woman to help lead him into the new paradigm. A woman like her.

Michael smiled as he walked down the hallway with her clothes over his shoulder. The memory of their meeting carved a smile on his soft lips. He turned into their bedroom, opened the large sliding closet door and began hanging her things up neatly. The smells of leather and rubber assaulted him as he filed the garments away. Fetish attire made up almost half of their wardrobe.

The task done, the still-young man turned to look at the full length mirror by their bed. There he was, his best self, thanks to Mistress Janet. Only the thick leather collar around his neck and his cock cage adorned his otherwise nude form. Upon claiming him, Janet had mandated a cleanup of his diet and regular exercise. Michael had lost thirty pounds since then and was back to his trim, college form. He ran a hand through his short, brown hair as he prepared to report his progress to Mistress.

“Michael!” a voice came from downstairs, as if reading his mind.

He grinned, hurried from the room and headed downstairs to attend to his Goddess.

Mike entered the living room and found his one and only where he’d left her. Janet was sprawled out on the sofa, reading. She lowered her book and looked up as he entered.

“It’s almost lunch time. I’ll have a BLT and a lime squash. Make something for yourself too.”

“Of course, Mistress” he said with a slight bow.

“Is the ironing done?”

“Yes, I just finished.”

“Good, then you’re almost done with your chores. How does a nice, long afternoon pegging sound?”

“That sounds wonderful, my Queen.”

“But we can’t do that today, can we?”

“No, Mistress.”

“And why not?”

“Because tomorrow is the Strapon Tournament.”

“That’s right, and I need you at your most potent. How many days has it been since I let you come?”

“Three, Mistress.”

“Perfect. I need the rest as well, or my poor hips won’t hold up tomorrow.”

“Of course, my love.”

“I think, instead, you can provide me some afternoon delight with that slutty tongue of yours” she announced with a wicked smile.

“It would be my pleasure.”

“Mmmhmm… Now go make lunch.” She shooed him off with a wave.

“Right away, Mistress.” He bowed again and turned toward the kitchen.

Janet lifted her book and resumed reading, but within a split second, she balked.