Fifty and Submissive
Read the storyThis afternoon I turn 50. I don't expect any kind of celebration from Aurelio, my lover, or Eulalio, my son. Aurelio and my son Eulalio are muscular, attractive men who like to play sports; perhaps it was these similarities that made them connect instantly when they met. That happened some time after my wife died, and I met Aurelio in a widowers' support group. We went on several dates; Aurelio was tender and romantic. After a few months, we decided to start a romantic relationship a couple of years ago. Their bond has intensified since Aurelio moved in a year ago. From the moment he arrived, he began making small, subtle changes that gradually escalated. As a result of these changes, I became the humble maid of Aurelio and my eldest son. I must serve them, attend to them, and do all the housework in my own home. Every day when I wake up, I get ready and put on the uniform I was assigned: a ridiculous maid's uniform, a black dress with a short skirt that rides up every time I bend over, revealing my buttocks encased in satin panties and my thighs marked by the punishments I receive when I make a mistake. The dress is adorned with a handy white apron with ruffles, which comes in handy if I need to clean something in a hurry. I have to wear 5-centimeter heels that initially made me wobble, but now, after months, I can wear them without any problem. I must wear sheer black stockings, and my entire outfit is topped off by a ridiculous frilly cap, a symbol of my current status. The transformation was gradual; the point of no return came a few months ago when Eulalio replaced me as Aurelio's primary lover, reducing my usefulness to that of a mere sex toy and tool to serve their every need. I understood that nothing would ever be the same when Aurelio ordered me to move to the small maid's room in the basement next to the laundry room. That room has officially become my housekeeper's quarters; there I rest on a small cot, and my maid uniforms and accessories hang there—the only possessions I own now. In retrospect, I never had the slightest athletic ability, so I'm sure my son, a natural athlete, sees Aurelio as the father he never had. Given my complete incompetence as a husband and father figure, it is only fair that I accept the humble condition of servant that Aurelio has imposed upon me, in which my son participated and accepted with enthusiasm, ever since he learned of my homosexuality and masochistic tastes.