When you run an elite cleaning company for the rich and the famous, you quickly learn the importance of discretion. I started the company barely a year ago, not expecting much to come of it, but after a couple of lucky breaks, I was getting more referrals for work. If things continued the way they were going, I would have to consider hiring to expand. The only thing was finding someone trustworthy enough to do a good job and not open their mouth about my client's houses.
Within the last year, I had seen more than my fair share of shocking things. One client had an unhealthy amount of Nazi memorabilia and decorations, another I had caught having an affair with his au pair, and another liked to walk around her house naked at all times. For every client I took, I was required to sign a Non-Disclosure Agreement, stating that I wouldn't discuss anything about their lifestyle, their property and possessions, and the location of where they lived. I understood the need for it. They were entitled to their privacy, if any information was leaked, there would be plenty of fans stalking the neighbourhoods to see their idol, or it would be an advertisement of potential gains for would-be thieves.
The latest client I took on lived on a street in Beverly Hills, a street known for where celebrities lived. As I turned onto the street, I found a security man in front of a large gate who took my name to check against a list and searched my car before allowing me access to the street. I drove slowly, admiring the obscenely large modern mansions, each with a gate and walls for security. This new client was a new class of wealthy that I hadn't dealt with yet, it made me proud that my company's reputation had grown enough even to be considered for properties like this.
I stopped outside the large white, iron gates of my new client's property and pressed the button on the intercom, seeing the security camera move to show my face to the security as they asked some questions. Eventually, the gates opened, and I inched across the driveway, marvelling at the beautiful gardens, full of perfectly kept flowers and shrubbery, along with a stunning water feature and stone statues,
I parked my compact van in a parking bay next to a shiny sports car that probably cost a hundred times what I paid for my van. It was warm already for the morning and I hurriedly dragged some of my cleaning equipment to the door where I pushed the bell.
After a little wait, the door opened, revealing one of the most handsome men I had ever seen. He was tall, his chest and shoulders pressing against the designer suit that he was wearing. The man looked like a cross between an actor and a popular boy band member with eyes that seemed to pierce my soul.
"Miss Sharp, my name is Alexander, it's great to meet you."
"Hello Alexander, call me Amy."
I stumbled through my reply, unable to avert my gaze away from the impressive man before me as he exuded power and confidence that overwhelmed me completely.
Over a coffee, Alexander introduced himself properly and asked questions about my company. I kept my answers short to not bore him, but he seemed genuinely interested and continued to probe away.
Alexander guided me around his house giving me a short tour. He was the sole owner, and although my stomach fluttered when he mentioned he was single, my brain kicked in to remind me that this guy was slightly out of my league.
My cleaning services would be required five days a week, including one Saturday a month, and I would be working alongside his assistants, and various grounds staff. So far, everything seemed normal, even more so than some of the other celebrities that I had visited; I briefly wondered why it was so important that I signed the non-disclosure agreement.
"Before we move into the next few rooms, I need to remind you of the agreement you signed and that I can trust you to be discreet."
"Of course. Discretion is key to my business. I wouldn't have reached as far as I have currently without building that reputation."
"Right. That was why I picked you. Still, I needed to know."
For a moment, I wondered if Alexander was up to anything illegal. Did he deal drugs? Was he involved in gang activity? Was that how he gained this wealth?
Whatever I could think of that meant I had to sign the non-disclosure agreement, nothing could have prepared me for what I saw when he opened the doors.
We walked into an open room with various statues and art, although among the art, there were several women tied up in bondage, naked or wearing a latex outfit. They had been set up artistically to fit in with the displays around them. I shrank back to the door, suddenly wondering what kind of hell I had got myself into.
"Before you run away screaming. Every woman is here of their own free will and as a matter of fact, they have even paid to be here."
As if to demonstrate, Alexander walked calmly to the closest girl as I stood by the door, debating whether or not to run for the exit. She looked to be in her early thirties, and a bit of a fitness freak judging by her toned body. Restrained by rope on her knees, her arms were bound behind her back by a leather contraption that appeared to be a long single glove. A short bit of rope secured her intricately braided hair to a metal ring on the floor, pulling her hair back so that she was forced to look upwards.
My curiosity outweighed my fear and I walked closer to the woman to get a better look. It looked like she was wearing black contacts, and she wore a discreet pair of in-ear headphones. The cherry-red lipstick on her lips that enclosed the black ball gag in her mouth was the only make-up present on her face and I could see her drool trickling down her chin, dripping down onto her firm and full-rounded cleavage.
I'd never been this close to another naked woman in a situation like this and I found myself comparing her body to mine. She was taller than me, though that wasn't a hard feat, and also a little slimmer and a bit more toned than I was. Her skin was flawless and clear of any tattoos or piercings. Just seeing her like that was making me feel hot and flustered and I wasn't sure why.
Alexander gently brushed his hand against the girl's shoulder and she jumped slightly from the attention. He then got his phone out, opened an app, tapped the screen a few times and began to speak into the phone.
"Sofia, I have the new cleaner, Miss Sharp, with me, I'm going to remove your gag now."
Sofia leaned into Alexander's touch as he removed the gag and wiped the drool from her chin onto her body.
"Hello, Miss Sharp. Lovely to meet you."
Sofia looked in a different direction from where I was standing and I looked towards Alexander somewhat bemused.
"Sofia was experiencing sensory deprivation with the bondage. The black contact lenses obscure her vision entirely and the premium noise cancelling headphones playing white noise cut out any external sounds."
"Oh. Hello Sofia, lovely to meet you too."
I couldn't find the words to say as my mind processed his words. To be bound, with your sight and sound cut off, so helplessly. In a way, I imagine it must feel so freeing yet so terrifying.
"Thank you, Sofia. I'll let you get back to where you were while I finish the tour with Miss Sharp."
"Thank you, Sir. Enjoy the tour, Miss Sharp."
I watched dumbfounded as Alexander placed the ball gag back in Sofia's mouth and replaced the headphones.
While Alexander walked me around the room, he explained that he had made his money through his video and photography work within Hollywood, but another main passion of his was the BDSM lifestyle. He found a way to combine his career and his passion for BDSM to provide photography and services to those who required them, and he discovered that he was pretty good at working with rope.
People started to reach out for more than just photography as his reputation grew. With Alexander, they found a person they could trust to experience some of their fantasies in a safe and discreet environment.
"So everyone here chose to be so, how long do they stay like this?"
I had many questions formed out of pure curiosity and not judgment. I'd heard of the lifestyle, but never sought to experience it myself; I wasn't sure why, maybe because of the taboo that surrounded that was associated with it all.
"It depends on how long they want to and how long it is healthy to do so. You see, the girls that stay here pay to be able to do so. They pay for my rope skills, for my ability to read them as a confident, dominant man, and because they feel safe to be able to live out their fantasies through me. I also help to network them with my contacts, sometimes helping them further their careers."
I nodded, taking everything in as we continued walking around the room while marvelling at all the women on display. A larger woman was standing straight on the tip of her toes, cuffed to a pole between her legs with a metal phallic shape ending that penetrated her. She had the build of a rugby player and stood tall, making her look like an Amazon warrior. Like Sofia, she wore black contact lenses and headphones, though she also wore a set of clamps on her nipples, strung up so that they were stretched upwards. Instead of distress on the woman's face, her face expressed pleasure as she desperately tried to shuffle up and down the pole in vain without pulling on the clamps too much. As Alexander walked past, he plucked on the taut length of strings like a guitar as the woman moaned in pleasure.
"Thank you, Sir."
She looked around aimlessly, unable to see because of the contacts but the pleasure was etched all over her face. Alexander placed a hand on her face and stroked her cheek before moving on.
"So, Alexander, why are you showing me all this?"
Alexander paused briefly as if in thought before leading me to another door at the back of the room.
"For this job, I need someone who I know cares about the work they're doing. It's not just the house that needs to be cleaned, it's the girls who stay here for extended periods. The latex needs shining, sometimes their bodies may need washing. I need someone to commit to doing a professional job and taking pride in their work. From what I've heard from your clients, your attention to detail and ensuring your work was done to the highest standard was commendable. I understand this is not your conventional cleaning job, and I will ensure that the contract drawn up will reward a job well done. I understand this adds more to an already difficult job, but you will have plenty of help if you accept it."
I was taken aback by Alexander's honesty and slightly flattered by the kind words from my previous clients. It was true, maybe it was my Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, but when I worked, I was fixated on getting the job done to an incredibly high standard, and I worked hard for long hours to make that happen.
The job here for Alexander intrigued me; it was a far call from my usual clients with their modern houses and expensive art that needed to be kept spotlessly clean. For that reason, I decided to negotiate a contract with Alexander. The money he offered for my role here was generous, offering incentives for a job well done as promised. I would be accountable for the cleanliness of the house, and the comfort and cleanliness of those here for extended times.
