Duchess Willow is the Duchess of Hope, but she’s also the Switch Mistress of Despair and endless longing.

After I wrote about the joys of providing domestic service for Willow, one of our dear fans wrote us a lovely bit of fan erotica! Read on for Alice’s story about torment and hope at the hands of Duchess Willow!

Duchess Willow – Duchess of Hope by Alice Wonder

Every evening when my duties for Duchess Willow were complete, I would get what she called the “Fifteen Minutes of Opportunity”. I called them my “Fifteen Minutes of Hope”.

I am her domestic submissive. For those unfamiliar with the term, it is much like that of an indentured servant. I am bound to follow her instructions and obey her commands, doing whatever was necessary to keep her home properly clean and in order. I am of course mandated to being extremely hospitable to her guests, even the ones I do not personally like. Perhaps I should say especially to the ones I do not like, to give them any indication I do not like them would dishonor the Duchess, so I am have to make sure they feel like they are important enough to me that I give them especially good treatment in order to best disguise the personal feelings that I might have.

There are however some differences. Being her domestic submissive is far more than just being an obedient indentured servant.

To be a domestic submissive, one has to actually have a passion and strong desire to serve his or her Duchess. It isn’t just about validation that we are useful and serving a purpose, it is about honor and showing our Duchess that we have an actual longing to serve her to the best of our abilities, and improve those abilities whenever we can.

Also, it means she picks what I wear. Well when she wants to. Often I get to pick, but some days, she makes me wear a maid uniform with a lock so that it can not be removed. It is really hard to clean her house while wearing that uniform, but on those days usually she is entertaining guests, so I am acting more as a servant to their needs than cleaning chores.

I have to always make sure my legs are smooth and that I keep sexy thigh-high stocking in good order, I never know when she is going to demand I wear the uniform. Pretty panties too, the skirt is so short the panties underneath will be exposed, that is just reality, so they need to look enticing and inviting and not ordinary.

Sometimes doing the job can be hard. Duchess Willow is a switch. She is not a switch with a domestic submissive like me, but sometimes she has partners over that she chooses to submit to, and I confess it makes me very jealous to see her giving them what I wish I could have. When she is submissive with one of her play partners, it seems like they sometimes enjoy making me jealous, and I get the impression sometimes she enjoys using it to tease me, to make me want what I can not have and what would be out of place to even ask for.

It can be difficult, but Duchess Willow had a rather unique way of motivating me that makes it all worth it.

She has a coffee table in front of her couch, fairly low to the ground. The table is made of hard wood with stone inlaid on the surface, it is very very very beautiful. And of course, it is always very clean, I make sure of that.

After finishing up the last of my duties, I am to present myself to Duchess wearing nothing except my collar, the bracelets around my ankles, and the bracelets around my wrists. Those only she has the authority to remove. If she had me performing duties that day in a locking maid uniform, she removes the lock allowing me to undress and properly put it all away before I present myself to her.

When I present myself to her, a towel and a pillow are placed on the coffee table. I lie down on it on my back. It is not very comfortable, but it is only for 15 minutes and those fifteen minutes, let me tell you, looking forward to them while I serve her domestic needs during the day make me whistle while I work.

I lay there with my legs spread open and my feet on the ground on either side of the table, this table is just the right height for that. Duchess then chains my ankle bracelets to the table legs so that I can not move my feet. My arms hang down the sides. They are not chained to the table legs but she does run a chain between the two bracelets so that it is impossible for me to raise them or, you know, cover or touch my very exposed cock.

Finally, a thin chain is fed through the D-Ring on my collar and wrapped around the table. I can move my head, but I can not lift it. Then the timer starts.

Unless Willow was feeling particularly frisky during my daytime duties, these fifteen minutes are the only time I am permitted to cum. And I am always permitted to cum during these fifteen minutes, I just can not touch myself to make it happen.

Sometimes Willow sits down on her couch and rests her feet on me while she reads or answers messages on her phone. That may mean I did not demonstrate enough effort to earn more, but it also could mean that is simply what she wanted to do. It is always her choice, but I always hope for more.

Sometimes, the Duchess uses her fingernails to tease me. She runs them up and down my sides, across my chest, along the inside of my thighs – getting close to my cock but rarely touching it. My cock often twitches in responses, telling her the hope it has. It hopes for more, it hopes for much more. The precum starts oozing, and if she is in a particularly frisky mood, she might take her finger and spread my precum all over my cock.

It was always a good idea to spend as much effort as I could during the day trying to make Willow really proud of me, because if she was proud of me, maybe just maybe my ears would get to hear her opening the bottle of lube, and my hopes that her hands would do what my hands were bound from doing were going to come true. Well, at least to extent. With her in complete control of the stroking, there was no guarantee she would let me pop, but there was always hope…

Of course in the back of my mind I always hoped for even more. Maybe, just maybe, she wasn’t breaking out the lube for her hands. Was my cherry finally going to pop? I know she had toyed with the idea of doing so, I could feel it, I could see it in her eyes, but would she actually do it?

I had hope, and hope is a good thing to have.

Sometimes she teases my cock with her tongue, flicking it in and out, up and down my shaft as her hand massages my balls. That’s when my restrained head really messes with me, I so want to watch her do it, to temporarily forget she owns that cock and pretend she is worshiping it, but I can’t raise my head, I can’t see what she is doing.

I long for her to to keep the teasing, but I also long for her to take it in, to take it all the way in, and take me to heaven.

Sometimes if I have been really good and she is in a really good mood she does, but most of the time, her tongue play ends a different way, with her making it very clear she controls everything oral.

After teasing my cock with my tongue, she stands up and then plants herself on my face. In my head, I hear her sexy voice say “My Turn” but I am not sure if she is saying it, or if I am hearing what I want to hear.

Either way it doesn’t matter, I know what I am to do. It is time for my tongue to go to work, as best it can, and hope it whatever time remains I am able to have her leave my face looking like a glazed doughnut. That’s the goal, that is what I want to do. If I succeed, then maybe the next day, she will be more generous with whether or not I cum. And maybe, just maybe maybe maybe if my face ends up glazed enough, I’ll get my cherry popped. There’s always hope…

Regardless of what happens when I’m on the table, whether I’m just there for her feet to rest on or she is playing with me, once the timer goes it all ends.

Fifteen minutes, that’s what I get.

She breaks out the cock cage and then releases my restraints, and I wear that cage until morning when it is time to get dressed for another day of service and the hope that I serve her well enough to have my hopes realized.

Don’t tell her this, but that cock cage is a tremendous blessing.

You see, since I know she’s a switch, sometimes I wonder what it would be like if our roles on the table were reversed. What would I do?

Without that cage, well, I just might take that wondering just a bit too far…

You see how terrible and amazing sweet Duchess Willow can be?

If you have some erotic fiction you’d like to see featured here on my blog, send it along! I’ll do some light edits for format, and clean up egregious grammar errors, and then share your fantasies with ~everyone~.