CLEANER: Chapter Three - Part Seven

MELISSA

It was so good to lounge about in such a space as this.

There was nothing comparable to this in my normal life. In my house the lounge was drowning in clutter. There was a dining room but we used it for storage now. Upstairs mine and my husband’s bedroom was dominated by our queen-sized bed. The spare room was filled with crap. To be able to kick back in such environs – in such airy openness – was enough to take away the power of speech.

The furniture was fabulous. All of it was lavish and opulent. The prices would have been staggering, I knew. I didn’t dare ask.

It was so good to slump into the sofa and watch whatever I wanted while my weird boss got up to her craziness. I chuckled. If she wanted to actually pay me to do this then more fool her. I could do this all day. I just wished I didn’t have my other cleaning job to get to. Maybe I should suggest I worked here full time – loafing about while Dahlia slaved away and I got paid for it.

I laughed out loud then glanced at the door in case she was there. I didn’t want her to think I was laughing at her. This was too good to ruin.

It made me wonder if she would want to do this again. Was this just another one-off? Or would she want to do it again? Would it be every time now? Would she get tired of it?

I wished I could ask her, but I had a feeling that a direct question might just wreck things. This was so odd and –was it fetishistic? – that surely any kind of reflection might burst the bubble. It was better to coast along; let it play out and see what happened.

I flicked the channel over and settled back to watch a chat show. It was a shame there wasn’t much on in the mornings but it was still a treat. I was always working. I never got to watch this stuff.

But I found myself looking toward the door. What I really wanted to do was go and watch what she was doing. That little glimpse of her in the doorway had been hilarious, but all too brief. Would she go on working if she saw me watching her?

Again, I couldn’t dare risk it.

Instead I tried to concentrate on my program, though after a few minutes my mind wandered again.

I wondered if she just liked imagining she was a cleaner or if she actually pretended she was me. If she did then that was an entirely different thing. The oddity of it was kind of staggering. Though who was I to judge? She’d made a mint in her life. Who was I? A big fat nobody.

But I found myself smiling as I wondered what it would be like calling her in by my own name; calling her Melissa.

Would she come to it? Would she play the part?

Would she do what I told her? Would she really  take on my role completely?

I smiled broadly then frowned in surprise when I felt something... unusual.

Thinking about doing that – calling her by my name and ordering about – gave me a... flutter... in my nether regions; a gentle pulse of rosy illumination between my thighs, a place that seldom saw any activity.

It didn’t just surprise me. It disconcerted me too.

But it had been nice.

Did it matter? Nobody knew about it. It had felt... nice.

I settled down deeper into the sofa and let my eyes close and I imagined it again; calling the her through from wherever she was and giving her instructions; watching her jump to it.

Mmmm. Yes. Very nice.