They say that kindness costs nothing- but that’s not always true. For us it cost us a small amount of space on our bedroom floor, where you lay sleeping. But still it seems like a small price to pay while you get yourself back on your feet.

A month later and not much has changed, but the messes you leave around the house are unacceptable. Now our kindness is costing us patience. We start talking to you about pulling your share around the house. You very kindly agree to do more than your share.

Another month. It’s my wife’s idea to push it a bit further. She smiles at me as we eat our breakfast, a devilish grin as you scrub the floor. She “accidentally” drops her breakfast off the table. You kneel over to clean it, and I can’t help but notice you’re not wearing any panties. I look back at my wife, whose grin is only getting bigger.

A month later, you kneel before the two of us, begging to earn your keep. It’s become a performance, and my wife rewards it with a black silk blindfold.

At six months, you’ve stopped looking for a new job. You have your place now. As we lay in bed, my wife gives me a kiss good night, putting down her book and turning off her lamp, all to the practiced wet sounds of your mouth on my cock.

I look around the house, holding the discarded carcass of the remote, dumbfounded as to where the batteries could have gone. As I call out for my wife, I hear you moan out in a mixture of pleasure and pain. I hear a familiar buzz coming up from the basement, as my wife takes out her stress. I walk back to the living room, the mystery of the batteries solved. You’ve been here almost a year. Our kindness has cost us a few hundred dollars in outfits and equipment, and a good number of our evenings, but we’ve gotten so… so much more.