Juan's message

Years ago, while studying at university, I decided to look for occasional jobs to earn some extra money for treats and save up for vacations. I was 21 years old, with little work experience, and a clear goal: to make money for the summer. I posted several ads as a computer technician, cleaner, and to help with moving, among others. Things went well for me, with several moves and some small jobs, I earned the money I wanted. So, I deleted the ads and focused on exams and the upcoming holidays.

After finishing the exams and before starting the holidays and leaving the city where I studied, while checking my email for grades, I saw an unanswered message from a man, named Juan, inquiring about my cleaning services and availability to work several days a week.

I felt bad for not responding to him, so I sent him an email apologizing and explaining that I was no longer available because I had just finished university and would be leaving the city for a few weeks. I told him that we could resume in September if he was still interested.

He replied, understanding my reasons and elaborating on what he wanted from me, sharing a bit more about his life (he worked in the field I was studying), and specifying the services he required. He mentioned that if I felt like coming for a few days before leaving, he would appreciate it and would be waiting for me in September. It was this promise that led to us exchanging several emails, sharing contacts, and agreeing to meet that evening to finalize everything.

As usual, I had plans to go to the gym that afternoon, so I dressed in shorts and a plain white t-shirt, ready to clean and then head to the gym quickly afterwards.

I arrived at his house almost ten minutes before the agreed time, rang the doorbell, and he let me in.

On the landing, I saw him for the first time, a normal-looking man who seemed formal and probably in his fifties. He was taller than me, with short gray hair, a commanding gaze, and a typical middle-aged belly. What struck me the most was the contrast in our attire - he was dressed formally in a shirt, chinos, and flip-flops.

Feeling a bit uncomfortable as I was significantly underdressed, I realized that this was essentially a "job interview". I resolved to say yes to everything and make a good impression.

Fortunately, he didn't seem to mind my casual appearance. He was waiting for me at the door and greeted me with a hug before leading me into the hallway. Once he closed the door, he said:

- "Take off your shoes, we don't wear outdoor footwear inside."

I did so without much thought, although I felt a bit embarrassed walking around barefoot while he wore his flip-flops.

We entered the dining room, and from that moment on, he began explaining how he wanted things to be done, and for about 15-20 minutes, we toured the apartment while he gave me instructions. I nodded along and asked any questions I had, such as where to find the cleaning products, his preferences, etc. Nothing particularly stood out, as everything seemed straightforward and the place was already quite clean. The help he needed was mainly focused on doing laundry and, especially, cleaning the kitchen.

I was satisfied with what I saw, and everything seemed to be going well. After the tour and receiving his instructions, we returned to the dining room, where he sat in the middle of the sofa. I was about to do the same, but before I could sit down, he asked me to bring him a glass of water, explaining where the glasses were in the kitchen and requesting that I bring it on a tray to avoid staining the table.

True to my decision to say yes to everything, I replied:

- "Yes, Juan."

And I obeyed. In a few seconds, there I was, standing in front of Juan, him relaxing on the sofa while I stood, feeling tense and uncomfortable, with both hands occupied holding the tray. I just looked at him, waiting for him to take the glass so I could sit down.

He looked at me with satisfaction, thanked me for the glass, took a few sips without saying anything, all the while watching me. I stood there, increasingly uncomfortable, as he seemed to notice, and then he told me to leave the tray on a small table and to sit next to him so we could finalize the arrangements.

There wasn't much to negotiate. I would come on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays at noon for the next two weeks. I would do the laundry and clean the kitchen while waiting for the laundry, dusting and washing the floor, then hanging up the clothes before leaving with my day's pay. Everything was as discussed in the emails, so I accepted his proposal with a simple:

- "Yes, Juan," and he smiled again.

To seal the agreement, he shook my hand and to celebrate, he asked me to bring two glasses and beer from the fridge. I wasn't thrilled with this request, but since everything had gone well, I repeated:

- "Yes, Juan," and promptly obeyed.

After bringing them, he asked me to sit with him. The conversation was pleasant, flowing naturally. He was a good conversationalist, leading to an interesting exchange about our lives and common interests. I asked about his work life, and he inquired about my life in general. The conversation flowed, and without much surprise, I ended up telling him that I was single and currently not seeing anyone. In contrast, he explained that he was gay and dominant. Since I was unfamiliar with the topic, I assumed he was the active partner and mentioned that I had never had that kind of experience with a woman, and we continued talking about other topics.

We stayed on the sofa for quite some time, and I realized it was getting late for me to go to the gym. The glasses had been empty for a while. So, I used this as an opportunity to excuse myself and said:

- "I have to go, Juan, as a courtesy for taking long to reply I'll wash the dishes, thank you for the conversation."

Juan smiled, accepted my excuse, and accompanied me to the kitchen, where he stayed by my side to continue our conversation, while I tried to clean up quickly as time was running out.

In my rush, while rinsing a glass, some water splashed on the floor. I didn't mind much, but I noticed that it bothered Juan. To lighten the situation and add some humor, I decided to kneel down and dry the droplets as if I were Cinderella.

I knelt down slowly in front of him, looking into his eyes as if I were his servant. He smiled, and I dried the few droplets on the floor. Still in that position, and to cap off the situation, I said:

- "There you go, full service," hoping for a complicit laugh... which never came.

Instead of laughing, Juan replied:

- "You've wet my feet, clean them," he said, looking at me and slowly removing his right shoe, bringing the foot closer.

At that moment, I thought he was playing along, so instead of obeying, I asked:

- "You're kidding, right?" And I got up smiling.

But he didn't flinch; he continued to bring his foot closer, indicating how he wanted it cleaned, and I took note and nodded.

- "You're going to clean them with your tongue, kneel and lick my right foot first. When it's clean, ask me to inspect it with a 'Sir, please check my work.' " He stared at me intensely, maintaining the tension in the room.

It took me a few seconds to react, but when I did, I knelt down. I didn't understand why I was obeying him, but there I was, about to lick that man's feet.

I didn't respond, I just did it. I gave gentle licks to his instep, feeling his foot cold and dry... not wet at all. And quickly, I said:

- "Sir, please check my work," hoping to end this humiliation. I felt embarrassed but didn't want to disappoint him.

Juan didn't respond; he just stared at me, his expression serious. I lowered my head, stopped looking at him, and started licking his foot again, this time going all out, covering the entire surface, even kissing his toes. At one point, I felt him move his foot slightly and spread his toes, so I opened my mouth, allowing him to insert his toes as I continued licking and sucking them, without daring to look up or say anything.

After a few minutes, I got past the initial shock, rationalizing that I was indeed licking Juan's foot, serving him on my knees in his kitchen. I believed I wouldn't be able to stop, so I gathered my courage and with a trembling voice, I repeated:

- "Sir, please check my work," hoping he was satisfied.

Juan responded:

- "Well done, maid," moving his right foot away and bringing the left one closer.

I had forgotten about the other foot. I wasn't enjoying the situation, but I didn't want to refuse or leave either. I knew I could have left, and Juan wouldn't have stopped me, but based on his attitude, I wanted to please him, and he knew it.

I licked his left foot as well, even better than the right one, until everything started to bother me, and I asked him:

- "Sir, please check my work," Still avoiding his gaze, I had been on my knees licking his feet for almost 20 minutes, trying not to look at him.

He rewarded me:

- "Well done, maid, you're done, stand up, you may leave now," in a calm tone, acknowledging a job well done.

I was relieved to hear that and began to stand up slowly. My knees and mouth hurt, and I still couldn't lift my gaze from the floor, let alone dare to look him in the eyes. He put his hand on my shoulder and escorted me to the door once again. As I put my shoes back on, he told me:

- "Don't forget to clean my feet before you leave next time, maid." I replied, staring at his feet,

- "Yes, Sir Juan," and I left, content to have satisfied him.