You've been down on your luck recently and you're getting a bit desperate. The bills are piling up and you don't know how you'll stay in your apartment. One day, you find a flyer looking for a topless maid. You don't want to do it, but you badly need the money, so you call. A nice-sounding man talks to you. You set some boundaries. No touching. No pictures. He has to keep his clothes on. I readily agrees to it all. You're feeling a bit safer about it. And it's money you can't do without.

The day of, you arrive at my place. I greets you quite friendly and you start working. Scrubbing a stove with your tits out isn't very dignified, but it sure beats getting evicted. Until you see me out of the corner of your eye. My phone is out. Is he taking your picture? I lowers his phone, no, he's just looking at something online. You think...

You're on your knees scrubbing the oven clean. You're getting used to it by now. Just focus on the cleaning, ignore the creep. Ignore him as you vacuum. Ignore him as you dust. Ignore him. Suddenly I'm right behind you. A hand on your stomach sliding up to your tits. You turn around and yelp. "That's not what we agreed! I'm leaving." I smile. "I don't think so." You walk over to your purse and start putting on your tshirt. "Oh yeah? What are you going to do?" "Check your phone." You have a dozen new messages. All from me. Pictures of you. Tits out. You on your knees cleaning my oven tits swinging under you. You putting dishes away. You're stunned. "I looked you up. What do you think daddy would think if he saw his little girl doing this? Your friends? Pastor? Mom?" You beg me to delete the pictures. "Well my little maid, I think we might be able to make that happen..."

I'm a sadist and I love humiliating pretty things. One of my favorite forms of CNC is simulated blackmail. If the scenario above (or another one we can discuss) turns you on, PM me. Open your message by telling me what safeword you like to use.

(Open to trans women, cis women, nb folks and some select men.)