My Man Wants A Me As Trad Housewife To Serve Him

Being of a lower middle financial family, teachers, we lived frugally. My father went away and we went into poverty. Teen dreams of dresses, vacations, college went away. Work, pinching every penny, study study study, one day it might mean a better life. A day that will remain in secret a man found me attractive and persisted until I just gave in. That day after he had 'enjoyed' his conquest he offered to take care of me. He paid for college. I earned an undergraduate degree in Economics and an MBA in finance. In return he had a girl in an apartment. To the world I said I had earned a scholarship, including lying to my mother and hiding my sexual affair from her.

I moved after college, to live a life I dreamed of. My sponsor was hurt, angry, and let me know about it. One day without notice he showed up where I lived and demanded I return to 'serve' him. Wrong word that really upset me. It took a hard breath, shook my head no while I packed my things and followed him. An adult, a professional, he moved me in with him, instead of an apartment. When he said 'serve', he meant it.

As I adjusted to a man twenty four seven, learned how he wanted me serving him, found a job at a bank in their loan department. The bank offered nine to five, time for me to get the house in order before leaving for work, and be home to fix dinner. Good housekeeping was high on his expectations. Cooking was his number one measure. Prepared meals, serve him at a set table, clean the kitchen before sitting with him to read, or maybe watch television.

I felt this thing tugging at me. It got stronger and stronger. Staring at pregnant women, holding other women's babies. Until I worked up the nerve and asked him, if he would make me pregnant.

I'm 31 now, I have a son and a daughter, I am a fulltime housewife. I serve my man, care for his children, keep a home, and do all the cooking. I could afford a sitter, a maid, but then I would not be the one serving him. That's my job, I do not outsource it.

My mother lives in a nice condo community, no rent, no mortgage. She has a monthly stipend, and insurance and a car to get around in. Between then and now, when the next meal was leftovers, or hunger, serving my man is a price I will pay gladly.