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His Naughty Little Housewife by Katie Douglas – Sample

Chapter One

His Naughty Little HousewifeThea had flopped sideways on the sofa and was watching a video on YouTube when Trent got home. She’d been in for four hours, and she still didn’t feel like making dinner, although it was definitely her job. Since she moved in with him three months ago, a week after they’d gotten engaged and three months after they’d first met in person, she’d noticed that if she didn’t cook, he’d just order takeout. Then she could housewife like a boss after work tomorrow by reheating leftovers in the microwave.

“Hey, little darlin’, what’cha cookin’ tonight?” He kissed her on the forehead and she momentarily felt guilty that she hadn’t made anything, but she assuaged it with promises to her conscience that she’d do it tomorrow… for sure this time. She looked up and couldn’t help smiling slightly that the tall man with the square jaw and green eyes was all hers. As she watched him take his suit jacket off, she inhaled sharply at the outline of his muscular arms and well-toned abs under his shirt.

“I haven’t made anything.” Thea didn’t even apologize. When was the last time she’d cooked food? There was always something more interesting to do, anyway. She liked to spend as much time as she could with Trent in the evenings, not cooking food on her own in the kitchen.

That reminded her that she needed to go online and order some new pants for work, since hers always seemed to be sitting in the laundry basket. Thea was a social media manager for a chain of gardening stores, a job which was all about making a good impression on people.

When Trent Wilson began to speak again, his creamy deep voice always reminded her of how much she missed him while he was at work.

“That’s a real shame; I was looking forward to eating. Eleven hours in the office makes a man start yearning for some good ol’-fashioned home cookin’. Guess I’ll order takeout.” Trent didn’t sound too disappointed, and Thea supposed he’d get over it like he always did.

“Can we try that new Arabic place? Ooh, or the Lebanese one! They both sound awesome!” She loved takeout, and there were so many good options in their town.

“I feel like Arabic,” he smiled. His decision was always final, which was important to Thea, because she was very indecisive whenever she had to pick anything that affected both of them. He went online and put through an order, then handed his laptop to Thea, so she could choose something. She loved how quickly and efficiently he could pick what he wanted.

It was long after nine o’clock when food arrived, which meant by the time they were done eating, it would be another very late bedtime. As he spooned his share onto his plate, Trent finally accosted Thea about the house.

“You know how long it’s been since you last cooked dinner?” he asked casually.

The question confused her, and for a moment, she just blinked and looked into his lovely green eyes.

“Um… yesterday? We had that leftover pizza.” She concentrated on getting her rice onto her plate.

“No, hon; the kitchen isn’t just a room with a refrigerator, a microwave, and a takeout menu. I meant when’s the last time you actually cooked dinner using some of those other things in the kitchen; the oven, the stove, the chopping board, and the blender. When did you last use those things to make a meal? Scratch that, when did you last buy groceries?” He wasn’t shouting, but the words he was saying made her feel like he was.

“I can’t remember.” Suddenly the room felt too hot.

“That’s one of your chores, young lady. When we were drawing up the agreement, you said you wanted to make the evening meal. You said you wanted to do the grocery shopping. Even if it wasn’t in the contract, it seems fair that you should do more around the house, since you work seven hours a day and I work ten to sixteen.”

Thea frowned. If he wanted to invoke the contract, she had boatloads of reasons to not keep the house in order. Their contract had all the terms of their daddy-dom and little girl relationship, both in and out of the bedroom, such as how they negotiated scenes, what they both would and wouldn’t do, exactly what Trent could spank Thea for (aside from the weekly over-the-knee spanking she needed, to help keep her on the straight and narrow), and other things besides. It was completely unenforceable in legal terms, but they both found it was a helpful way to keep track of their responsibilities and rights within their relationship, since they had such busy lives.

At the beginning of their relationship, Thea had thought she was more of a submissive, and from there, they’d progressed into their current relationship after Trent had realized that being a middle was a better fit for Thea. Until then, her understanding of ageplay had been that it was a way for adult babies to live out their fantasies, and she’d never looked into it because she didn’t have any interest in baby play. It wasn’t until she’d moved in, and Trent found a box with her collection of soft toys and scented gel pens, that he’d put two and two together and they’d tried out a few scenarios where Thea had role-played being his teenage girl, which perfectly fit her personality. Before she’d found Trent, she had known she needed to be spanked, but she hadn’t known that her love of soft toys, pretty dresses, and sparkly nail varnish was something that she could share with any other adult. Trent often seemed to know her better than she knew herself. This, apparently, wasn’t one of those times.

“And, like, when was the last time you kept up your end of the contract? You’re s’posed to spank me every Sunday, and you did it the first two weeks and since then you keep on blowing me off all the time. You’re meant to organize our social life, and we haven’t been anywhere since you got promoted. All you do is work and sleep and complain about housework.” Thea glared at him.

He didn’t glare back; he looked at her calmly and when he spoke, his voice was as creamy-soft as ever. One of the things she loved about him was the way he never seemed to get flustered, even when she was being a brat.

“Little lady, have you considered the possibility that I might have time to spank you if I wasn’t spending so much time taking up your slack on the housework? Or I’d have time to think about what events we’re going to? Or I’d have time to tie you down and fuck you sideways? Every time you don’t do something you’re supposed to do, if I end up doing it, you’ve basically stolen my time, and you’re not even getting anything good from doing it, because that’s time I can’t actually spend with you. You’re skipping out on a lot of responsibilities, honey.”

His response left her stunned. Maybe she wasn’t pulling her weight. Once she started thinking about it, she couldn’t un-see the mess she’d left the house in.

“Why didn’t you say something?” she asked. Contrary to the state the house was in, she really did want to be a good submissive, and to make her daddy-dom happy, and, at least in principle, she did want to take care of the house. She just… forgot. All the time.

“It crept up on me,” she added.

They both ate their dinner in silence, and Thea started to feel like she might have to remember how to actually cook food sometime soon. Was that such a bad thing?

She cleared the plates onto the countertop, and put the cartons of leftover food into the fridge for tomorrow, then she stared around the kitchen. There were mountains of dishes; some of them had likely gone moldy by now. If she were still at college, she would have just thrown them out and started again with new stuff, but Trent would probably not let her do that. Looking at the dishwasher, she thought she should put some stuff in it, but when she opened it, she saw it needed cleaning out at the bottom. Maybe she hadn’t been scraping the plates off properly, and maybe food had built up, and maybe it was so long since the dishwasher was last used that it had all gone bad. It was a possibility. She closed the dishwasher’s door, to make the smell go away. Wasn’t it supposed to be self-cleaning? It was a dishwasher, for crying out loud!

Thea wanted to live the sort of life where everything was so clean it could be photographed for a housekeeping magazine, but in reality, she never seemed to know how to get on top of it all for long enough. Aside from that, she didn’t dare mess with any of Trent’s stuff, or reorganize (or, and here she felt bad for even thinking it, have a clear-out of his junk), because she didn’t feel like it was her place to do any of that. She was a submissive; she had no say in what Trent did or didn’t own, or where he decided to put it all. More specifically, she reminded herself, she was firmly on the ageplay spectrum as his middle. In her case, although she was a mature adult outside the home, she wasn’t sure she had ever really learned how to do the housework properly in the first place.

It was supposed to be Trent’s job to give her structure, but he never seemed to have the time, and she just didn’t know where to begin. Most of the time, she felt like she wasn’t keeping up her end of the agreement. She didn’t even call him Daddy; it just felt weird when she tried to say it. Maybe that was because she hadn’t had a daddy of her own before, but Trent was at least giving her the space to grow into calling him such a meaningful title, because he never pulled her up for using his name or just calling him sir instead. They didn’t even have a rule about it, but one day she’d like to be able to say it to him. She loved that he wasn’t overbearing, and that he gave her so many chances, but at the same time, he seemed to be giving her too much space, she thought, and not enough structure and guidance.

She sighed in frustration and left the kitchen. It was too late to start scrubbing the dishwasher. That could be a job for tomorrow afternoon. Except she was going on a business trip for two days. She shrugged and went back to her laptop. Watching vlogs never needed that much effort, and she’d long since managed to tune out that nagging feeling in the back of her mind that she wasn’t doing what she was supposed to.

When they went to bed, she noticed all the laundry on the bedroom floor. It didn’t ever seem to make its way to the washing machine. She discarded her latest clothes with all the rest on the carpet (at least, she guessed the carpet was still under there) and got into bed.

“I’m really sorry, Trent. I do want to be better at all this house stuff, I really do, but everything seems to be so complicated.”

“I will think on how I can un-complicate things for you, honey. Tomorrow, I want you to email your boss and let her know you’ll be off for the next couple weeks after your business trip. If you really want to get a handle on all this, I’ll find a way and make you stick with it. Agreed?”

“Agreed. Thank you.” She went to sleep thinking a two-week vacation from work would be great.

In the morning, Trent muffled his alarm as he found the off button, so he didn’t disturb Thea, since she didn’t have to be out of bed for another hour. Quietly, he got out of bed in the half-light. He fumbled in a drawer for some underpants, then grabbed his phone and left the bedroom, closing the door softly behind him.

When he reached the kitchen, he went straight for the coffeemaker but there was no fresh coffee in the packet. He wished Thea would go shopping once in a while; the local stores were always closed by the time he could get away from work. Aside from last night’s takeout, there was just an unopened pack of tofu in the refrigerator, and the only food he could see in any of the cupboards was some quinoa and a couple of sheets of nori. That’d make some mighty strange sushi, and his stomach fought the idea of eating any of that for breakfast. He’d have to have a drive-thru breakfast again, instead. He kept telling himself Thea just needed some space to get used to being in a committed relationship, and then he could start giving her more structure. He didn’t want to come down on her too hard or overwhelm her. She was only twenty-one, after all, and this was the first time she’d ever been responsible for a whole house. He remembered when he was twenty-one; he was still in college, drinking from cartons and playing video games until the early hours. That had been almost ten years ago. He wondered when he’d last had a chance to immerse himself in a good video game, or when he’d last found the time to give Thea any serious attention. Thea was right, he thought; he needed to get on top of how much time he was spending at the office, so he could do more of the things he enjoyed, such as hanging out with his special little sweetheart.

Deciding to leave early in the hope of getting home sooner, Trent went back upstairs for a shower. Afterwards, he searched for some clothes while he toweled off. There were no shirts hanging in his closet, and he was down to his last pair of pants. He looked in the basket of clean laundry, waiting to be ironed or put away, and found one shirt, crumpled, at the bottom of the pile. He shook it out and looked around for the iron, which was nowhere to be seen. Giving up, he threw a jacket over the crumpled shirt and left the house. As he caught his reflection in the car door, a thought came to him, and he knew exactly what to do to get his little lady back on track with the house.

Over the next two days, while Thea was away in Atlantic City at her social media conference, Trent spent every moment of his free time getting the house back in order. To start with, he boxed up a load of stuff that neither of them would need for the next fourteen days, and put it in the bottom of his closet. There were some tasks he specifically didn’t do, because he wanted Thea to learn that she wasn’t getting out of her chores, so, aside from one half-load of shirts, the pile of washing got taken from the bedroom to the laundry hamper and left there. He carefully vacuumed the whole house, then put the vacuum cleaner in the garage, along with a few other appliances. The dishes got ignored, and so did the downstairs windows. At lunchtime on the day she was due back, he left his office and purchased a few items she would need to get started with the housework: dish soap, cloths, a fresh scrubbing brush, and some laundry soap.

When he met her at the airport at three o’clock, he carried her case to the car and thought he should break the news about what he’d done.

“So, I did some of the housework for you, and I’ve thought about how you can get on top of it all. Over the next fourteen days, you’re going to be a real nineteen-fifties housewife, with the same technology, the same clothes, the same responsibilities—and lack thereof—and I’m going to make sure you stick with it. I’ve rearranged the house a bit; I’ve disconnected the Internet, put away the laptops, the Blu-ray player’s gone, and so is the Xbox. And I’ve had to put a few other items away too. Don’t worry, though; they’re all in a safe place and they’ll all come out again when you’re back on track.”

“So… this is like the grownup version of not being allowed any TV?” She sounded like an annoyed teenager already.

“Sorta, only you’re also not allowed a dishwasher or a tumble dryer.”

“What?” When Thea snapped her head round to look at Trent, he knew he’d made the right choice by insisting that he drove instead of her. “You want me to get on top of the housework… so you’ve taken away the appliances? This isn’t fair! How is that going to help me?”

“You’re going to explain that to me by the end of this first week, my dear, and you are not going to speak to me in that tone again, or I’ll pull over and spank you right now.” When he saw her smile out of the corner of his eye, he added, “With my belt.”

Thea said nothing the rest of the way home, and Trent felt pleased with himself. He’d taken away the distractions so she could focus on her routine, but he knew this had a good chance of making her furious. When she wasn’t kept in check, Thea could be the feistiest young lady he’d ever met, and Trent knew he hadn’t had the time to keep her in line lately. That was going to change though.

He parked the car in the driveway and unlocked the front door, then held it open for her. She kicked her shoes off and went into the sitting room.

“Oh, my God. I thought you were kidding.”

Trent could hear the tremor as Thea spoke. He closed the door and followed her inside, then put a hand on her shoulder.

“You’re going to be fine, Thea. Now, give me your cellphone and I’ll put it out of the way.”

She stared at him for a long minute, and he saw tears welling up in her eyes. He wanted nothing more than to comfort her with a big hug, but this was a critical point. She had to know he absolutely meant to follow this through, so he just waited for her to get her emotions in check again, then he held out his hand.

“Cell. Now.” It was a direct instruction, and it seemed to speak to some part of her that didn’t resist or ask questions, so she thrust it toward him looking astounded. He took it from her and put it in his shirt pocket for the time being.

“What if I need to call my mom?” She looked horrified at the prospect of being without her phone for a week.

“You can use the landline.” He had little sympathy; she spent more time on her phone than she did doing anything else. It would be good for her to take some time away from it. Where he used his to respond to notifications, to communicate with people, she seemed to use hers for everything.

“What if she Facebooks me?” She seemed to be grasping at straws now.

“When was the last time your mom used her profile? You set it up for her and she’s never gone back near it. Hey, stop worrying. You can call her tonight if you think you need to; I’m not stopping you from talking to anyone.” Trent was putting his foot down whether Thea liked it or not, but there was no way he’d ever try to cut her off from her only living relative.

“But I don’t know the number!” she replied.

Now it was his turn to be surprised. How could she not know her mom’s number? Didn’t everyone memorize their home phone number as a child?

“You’re kidding?”

“My phone saves it for me. It saves everyone’s numbers!”

“Then after I show you around the house, and explain things to you, your first task is to write down all the phone numbers from your cell, onto a sheet of paper. That way, you can call people by yourself.”

“Do I have to?”

“It’s the first step toward independence,” he said encouragingly.

She nodded. At least she seemed to see his reasoning, he thought. She must know how much time she spent on that phone. He pulled her into a big hug and kissed her on the top of her head, then let her go again. She still looked slightly stunned. He took her to the kitchen next, to get the second biggest shock over with.

“Oh, my God. What have you done to the kitchen? What is that?!” She stared wildly around the kitchen. He supposed it must look pretty weird; that had been the point.

“The dryer is in the garage with the plug removed, the dishwasher is next to it, and so is the washing machine. You’ll be using this sink and draining rack to wash dishes, and you’ve got this twin-tubs machine for laundry. I borrowed it from my grandma for the week, so don’t break it,” he winked; the machine was so robust, he would be surprised if it was even possible to damage it.

She took two steps toward the twin-tubs machine and examined it.

“People still use these… things? It looks like it belongs in a museum!”

“My grandma’s probably one of the last people to own one of these. It’s called a Hoovermatic. You wash on the left, spin on the right.”

She looked around the back of the machine then turned back to Trent, frowning. “Where does the plumbing go?”

“You attach it to the hot tap. It drains into the sink.” He lifted the lid and showed her where he’d stored the hoses.

She giggled slightly and he looked at her in askance. There was nothing funny about this as far as he could see.

“This is a great joke; you can put it all back now.” She grinned up at him, but he didn’t smile back, and her face fell slightly. “I’ve learned my lesson. I’ll try harder on the housework, sir.” She only called him sir when they were in scene, as they didn’t want to tip off their friends and relatives about the type of relationship they were in. Right now, that told him that she thought this was some sort of roleplay, and that it might be over in an hour or two. He put a steadying hand on her shoulder, but he knew better than to give in.

“Kathleen Dorothea Daniels, you asked me to give you structure. I am giving you structure. This is happening. This is your life for the next two weeks. You have your safeword.” He knew she hated when he used her full name, but she needed to know he was serious about all this.

She started to cry, spluttering incomprehensible sounds.

“Look at me.” He demanded her undivided attention. She obeyed, tears in her eyes.

“Yes, sir?”

“Follow.” He snapped his fingers and she walked behind him as he led her to the bedroom. When she stood next to their bed, he said, “Take your clothes off.”

She pulled her sweater over her head, and his cock started to harden while he watched her breasts rise up under her shirt then bounce back again once the sweater was off. A little bit of her shapely hips were exposed, before her arms came back down from over her head. He saw her deftly undo the top button, then she worked her way down the shirt until it revealed her black bra and toned abs. Shrugging the sleeves off, she popped the button on her black work pants and unzipped them, standing before him in a black g-string and his favorite bra. Trent never got tired of watching her unfasten this bra. The clasp was at the front, and her breasts sprang out as soon as the bra came undone. She slipped the g-string down and waited, naked, for the next instruction.

“Present,” he ordered, noting that her nipples were already hardening. She wasn’t entirely ready to play being his little girl all the time, he knew, but they’d started out as dom and sub, and she was always extremely responsive to his dominant side when he let it out.

She put her hands behind her head, standing with her feet slightly wider than shoulder width and her back straight. He took a moment to admire her perky breasts before his eyes wandered to her pussy.

“I want to be able to see everything that is mine. Why can’t I do that?” He stood four inches from her nose, speaking quietly but clearly as he put a hand to her pussy and gently stroked it, feeling her quiver slightly under his hand.

“I didn’t shave while I was away, sir.”

“And what are your standing instructions, regarding your pussy?” He continued stroking it, and felt her roll her hips very slightly in response to his touch.

“I should shave it every day, sir.”

“That’s right. I will remedy that in just a moment.” He bent down and picked up the g-string, then held it before her eyes. “For the next two weeks, you are forbidden from wearing underwear like this. Instead, you will wear these panties. They will cover at least two thirds of your ass cheeks.” He held out a five-pack of plain black full briefs. “If I see your bottom exposed without my permission, I will spank you.”

“Yes, sir. Should I take a pair now, sir?”

“No. First you need to come to the bathroom. I will decide what I want you to wear, after I’ve taken care of your pussy. Follow.”

He rolled up his sleeves and turned the shower on over the tub. Once she was in, he watched the sparkling droplets of water cover her body.

“Turn the showerhead so it faces the wall, please, sweetheart,” he instructed.

While the water cascaded down the tiles, he parted her legs and covered her slightly furry pussy in shaving cream. Taking a safety razor, he used gentle strokes through the cream, rinsing the razor under the flow of water when he needed to, until her silky soft skin was exposed. Soon, her pussy was bare, and the sight of her made his cock stir in his pants. He stretched above her, lifted the showerhead from its cradle and rinsed her clean, then replaced it.

“Now, wash the day away, Thea.” He sat on the edge of the bath and watched her pick up the shower gel and cover the rest of her body in soap. Watching her coat her skin in bubbles was one of his favorite treats. Without fail, her nipples always hardened under the jets of water as she washed the soap off. When she was finished, he held out a towel for her and watched her vigorously dry herself off, finishing by wrapping her hair up on top of her head in the towel.

“Don’t get too comfortable, young lady. Dry your hair and style it. You can keep your hairdryer for the time being but I’ve put your flatiron away, because they didn’t exist in the fifties, so you’ll have to figure out some other way of doing your hair.”

While Thea was busy with the hairdryer, Trent opened the closet and took out the dress he’d bought online for her. It was plain blue with a big skirt that would fall to mid-calf-length when she put it on, and he also set out the other items of clothing which she was going to get used to wearing, along with the round-toe mid-heel shoes he’d picked for her. Luckily, she was one of the few women he’d ever known who didn’t need to try shoes on before she bought them; nearly any size six would fit her dainty feet.

He watched her blow-dry her hair with her brush, then she looked around for her flatiron, rolled her eyes and reached for the hairspray. A few minutes later, her slightly damp, slightly wavy brown hair was stuck like that. That was when she turned and saw what he’d laid out for her to wear.

“What’s all this stuff?” She held up the corset and the garter belt.

“Ask properly, little one.”

“Sorry. What do I do with these, sir?”

“Better. This is an under-bust corset; it goes around your middle, like so. Remember when we first started playing together, and I took all your measurements? I got this custom made for you and it arrived this week. I’ll show you how to fasten it, since you’ll need to do it every day for yourself. Normally, waist training is done with an over-bust corset, but these are a little less… zealous; for example, you can move in them a lot easier. Which you’ll need to, since you’re not going to be sitting on your ass much for the next week. But that’s fine, because I’m not trying to train your waist to fit tight-lacing corsets. We can do that at some point if you’re interested, but let’s just see how you feel with this one.”

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