I am a man in my 50s and for as long as I can remember I have fantasised about being dominated by women. As a senior figure in a fairly traditional workplace, I know the female secretarial staff would be amazed to learn that my greatest desire is to be a lady’s maid.

I have tried to live out my fantasies by buying maids’ uniforms and wearing them to clean my home. While a couple of girlfriends tolerated it, they showed no enthusiasm. This year, through a phone chat service, I met a dominatrix who had moved home and needed a cleaner. She met me in a public place for an interview and, once reassured about my sincerity, let me go to her flat for a trial. I quickly dressed in a black housekeeper’s uniform dress with white apron and set about my tasks.

To start with, she let me clean the kitchen, bathroom, sitting room and hall, but kept me away from more personal areas – the bedrooms and the laundry. She was matter of fact, telling me what she wanted done and critiquing my work. Since then, I’ve become her regular cleaner, doing all the household chores for her and her adult daughter.

You might wonder where the sex is in this. Away from her flat, I am enormously aroused by the thought of my submission, and am thrilled by the amusement in her eyes as I present myself in my uniform for instructions. I also love the disdain her adult daughter shows me. For years I puzzled to understand why being a maid would be so arousing. Now, every week for a morning, I am at peace as I clean.

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