Amanda and John enjoyed the kinky side of their lives. To the outside world, John appeared to be the alpha husband and Amanda the perfect housewife. In reality it was anything but that. They had the perfect compromise with Amanda playing up on John's crossdressing fetish in return for her being able to cuckold him with other men while he stays completely loyal and submissive. Amanda kept John in check by controlling his orgasms. She also made some rules so his submission would be self-motivating. One rule involved housework. John had to clean the entire house at least four times before Amanda would consider letting him orgasm. With this self-motivating rule, John now, without being told, would beg Amanda to allow him to be the maid and clean the entire house whenever he had a day off. Just a little tease and a reminder of what needs to be done to earn an orgasm was all Amanda needed to keep a spotless home. Amanda would often edge John and make him beg to be a sissy maid again until he finally agreed to make his next day off a day of cleaning the house. She was very good at reinforcing his status and making him admit to being her completely owned sissy. Keeping him on edge and feeling his sissy role was the key to his compliance.

It was John's only day off this week. While most men were watching football, John knelt on the polished hardwood floor, the frilly hem of his maid uniform tickling his thighs as he adjusted the white lace apron tied tightly around his waist. He actually begged Amanda to allow him to spend Sunday as the maid. The scent of lemon-scented cleaner lingered in the air, mixing with the faint trace of Amanda's perfume. His hands trembled as he clasped them together, his eyes fixed on the glossy black heels clicking toward him.

"Look up at me, John," Amanda commanded, her voice sharp and unwavering. He obeyed instantly, his gaze lifting to meet hers. She stood over him, her fitted pencil skirt hugging her curves, her crimson blouse unbuttoned just enough to hint at the power she held over him. Her lips curved into a sly smile as she crossed her arms, tapping a perfectly manicured nail against her bicep.

"Did you clean properly this time, my sissy maid?" she asked, her tone dripping with condescension. "Or am I going to have to punish you again for another half-assed job?"

John swallowed hard, his throat dry. "I-I did my best, Mistress Amanda," he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I scrubbed every inch of the house, just like you said."

Amanda arched an eyebrow, her piercing gaze scanning the room. She stepped past him, her heels echoing against the floor as she began her inspection. John’s heart pounded in his chest as he watched her run a finger along the edge of the coffee table, checking for dust. She crouched down, her skirt riding up slightly, and slid her hand beneath the couch, her expression unreadable.

"Stand up, my little Sissy," she ordered, her voice cold. John scrambled to his feet, his knees aching from kneeling so long. Amanda stepped closer, her presence overwhelming as she leaned in, her face inches from his.

"Do you really think you deserve an orgasm yet?" she asked, her breath warm against his face. "After the disaster you called 'cleaning' last week? I had to drag you back in here and make you do it all over again. Do you think I have time for your incompetence?"

John’s cheeks burned with shame, his hands fidgeting at his sides. "N-no, Mistress Amanda," he whispered. "But... I’ve already cleaned three times this month. Just one more, and—"

"And nothing," Amanda interrupted, her voice cutting through his sentence like a knife. "You’ll earn your release when I decide you’ve earned it. Not a moment sooner." She stepped back, her eyes narrowing as she scrutinized him. "Turn around. Let me see if you even dressed properly."

John turned slowly, his heart racing as Amanda circled him, her eyes scanning every detail of his uniform. The soft rustle of fabric as she adjusted his apron made him shiver, her fingers brushing against the small of his back.

"At least you managed to put this on correctly," she said, her tone softening slightly. "You will have to do a much better job with makeup, especially for the times you're waiting on one of my hot bulls and me. This doesn’t mean you’ve earned anything yet. I’ll decide whether this cleaning counts after I finish my inspection."

John nodded, his stomach churning with a mix of excitement and dread. He loved the way she controlled him, the way she made him feel small and powerless, but the constant denial of his release was driving him to the edge. He needed her approval, her validation, and the thought of failing again made his chest tighten.

Amanda walked toward the kitchen, her heels clicking against the tiles. John followed obediently; his head bowed. She opened the refrigerator, inspecting the shelves, then turned to the countertops, running a finger along the edge. She paused, her eyes narrowing as she found a single crumb left near the toaster.

"Pathetic," she muttered, plucking the crumb between her fingers and holding it up for him to see. "Is this what you call clean, maid?"

John’s shoulders slumped, his hope fading. "I’m sorry, Mistress Amanda," he said, his voice trembling. "I must have missed it."

Amanda sighed dramatically, shaking her head. "You’re lucky I’m feeling generous today," she said, stepping closer to him. "I’ll let this one slide, but only because you’ve been such a good little maid this month. This cleaning counts as your fourth."

John’s breath caught in his throat, his heart leaping with excitement. "Th-thank you, Mistress Amanda," he said, his voice filled with gratitude.

Amanda smirked; her eyes gleaming with mischief. "But don’t think this means you’re off the hook," she said, her voice low and sultry. "You’ll still have to earn your reward. Remember, it’s not just about cleaning. It’s about Submission. It’s about proving to me that you’re truly my bitch and a bitch for any man I bring home."

John nodded eagerly, his body trembling with anticipation. "Yes, Mistress Amanda. Whatever you want."

Amanda’s smile widened as she reached out, her fingers brushing against his cheek. "Good boy," she purred, her voice sending a shiver down his spine. "Now, kneel."

John dropped to his knees immediately, his hands resting on his thighs as he looked up at her with pleading eyes. Amanda stepped closer, her heels inches from his hands.

"Kiss my foot," she commanded, her voice firm.

John hesitated for only a moment before leaning forward, his tongue grazing the toe of her shoe. The taste of leather filled his mouth as he obeyed, his cheeks burning with humiliation. But he didn’t stop kissing her high heels, moving slowly along the surface as Amanda watched with a satisfied smile.

"Good," she said, her voice softening. "Now, remember this moment, maid. Remember who owns you, who controls you. I own your sissy ass. You obey me, and you'll obey anyone I bring home as well. You're not just my bitch but also a little cock-sucking bitch to any man I bring home."

John nodded, his heart pounding in his chest. He couldn’t wait any longer. He needed her, needed her to grant him the release he’d been craving for weeks.

"Mistress Amanda," he whispered, his voice trembling with desperation. "Please... may I?"

Amanda’s smile turned wicked as she reached down, her fingers gently tilting his chin up. "Beg for it," she said, her voice a low purr.

John’s breath hitched, his body trembling with anticipation. "Please, Mistress Amanda," he begged, his voice cracking. "Let me cum. I’ll do anything. I’ll be your perfect maid, your perfect sissy. Just... please..."

Amanda’s eyes darkened as she leaned down handing John a plate, her lips brushing against his ear. "You may cum on this plate in front of me... but only while you’re wearing your sissy uniform, and only if you lick up every drop afterward."

John’s eyes widened, his heart racing. "Yes, Mistress Amanda," he whispered, his voice filled with gratitude. "Thank you. Thank you for owning me."

Amanda smirked, her hand caressing her kneeling husband's face as she whispered, "Then prove it. And once you've licked up every drop, I want you to stay in that uniform for the next three hours, without the sexual high so you feel the embarrassment of what a sissy I turned you into. Now look at me and jerk that pathetic little clitty of yours, lick up the cum like the sissy I turned you into, thank me when you're done, and remember, not another orgasm until you clean this house four more times."