Decades of marriage and I was closing on early retirement. My wife, just past menopause, had lost all interest in sex, leaving me high and dry, or rather hard and aching. Then a peculiar series of events changed my life for the better.
Maureen had her own career, and a recent promotion had her working long hours and traveling to distant cities several times a month. She decided to hire a maid who could do some light cooking for me while she was gone. Knowing my sexual drive would tempt me, she selected three women for my review.
The first two were dowdy, frumpy grandmotherly types. But the third offered potential, at least in my fantasies. She was a self professed lesbian of perhaps 30 years, who appeared to have Goth fantasies. Dressed all in black with black lip gloss and fingernails, her butch hair cut and abrupt manner left no doubt to the casual observer that she had zero attraction to men.
Debra had a quite fascinating body. Though she was just five feet tall, she had rather large breasts and quite narrow slim hips with a high, bubble butt. Her only detraction was her teeth. They were crooked to the extreme, and decay was quite prevalent, even upon her incisors. I resolved to help her out with those dental problems.
During our interview of her, we asked for personal references. Digging through her gargantuan shoulder bag, she withdrew several well-thumbed Anne Rice books. I had read them. I knew how intensely sexual, heterosexual at that, the content of those books was. So I suggested to my wife that the youngest of the three might be the best choice. After all, we had a huge house and an older woman might not be physically up to the task of keeping it clean. My wife agreed, and hired Debra.
Two weeks later I had learned a lot about Debra. For one thing, she wasn't exactly a lesbian as she had stated. Instead, she was addicted to autoerotic activity. I know, because I had begun to spy upon her at night. Late one night as I went to the kitchen, I heard a strange sound down the hall towards the garage. The maid's quarters and bath were down that hallway. I slipped off my shoes and padded silently down the hall to listen at Debra's door. She was groaning deeply and I could just barely make out the high frequency buzz of some type of appliance. As I listened, she grunted her way to a climax, which was quite obvious to me. I left as silently as I had arrived.
On her day off, I installed four cameras in her bedroom and bath. To cover myself, I had the alarm company come over the following day to do a 'check up' of our alarm system. She assumed that the two new devices in her room were part of an upgrade to our security. There was a new smoke detector on the ceiling of her bedroom, along with a new motion detector next to the door entering her room. Similar devices were installed in her bathroom.
With full color and sound, I could sit in my den, which was also my home office, and monitor her when she thought she had complete privacy. Debra was a dedicated maturbatrix! She slipped into her room, or bathroom several times during the day to manually stimulate her clit until she shuddered in orgasm. At night, she used a trio of vibrators to abuse her clit until she literally gushed in orgasm.
I also learned something else about Debra. She was a drug abuser. Three or four times a day, when she was in her bathroom, she would turn on the exhaust fan and smoke a couple of bowls of what appeared to be hashish. She was hiding her stash in her bathroom. She had actually installed a fake electrical outlet for her dope! I guess she assumed that I wouldn't know what was happening in my own house.
I carefully planned a way to put her under my power over the course of the next two weeks. First, I purchased a Sybian, the ultimate masturbation device for women. I carefully 'hid' it in my walk in closet. I knew that she would discover it on the following Monday, when I was out of the house on 'business' and she was scheduled to clean our master suite.
Second, while she was out doing the weekly grocery shopping, I carefully injected a tiny drop of hydrochloric acid into the base of the battery compartment of each of her little clit stimulators. Did I mention that she didn't have any battery powered dildos or phallic vibrators? She was totally oriented upon her clitoris, which was a substantially large organ compared to all the women I had known in years past.
Finally, I visited the lab at the company I owned. Though I was 90% retired, and doing not much more than policy decisions from my home office, I did swing through the offices and labs one or twice a month just to keep everyone on their toes.
My company, which I had founded 30 years before, right out of college, was involved in the production of psychiatric drugs. We also had several high end grants for military and government based health care research. I knew exactly which drug I wanted for Debra.
We had been developing a drug to enhance therapeutic hypnosis for some years. The intent was to greatly aid suggestibility of subjects that were undergoing hypnotherapy in order to quit smoking or to suppress irrational phobias. Though it worked quite well, it did have major drawbacks that precluded FDA approval. In fact, the side effects of the drug were so serious that we didn't think we could overcome the negative side effects with a massive public relations campaign, so we hadn't even submitted it to the FDA for review.