Chore Chart- Part 1/2

One of my favorite parts about writing erotica and having an online presence is that guys will come into my DMs and chat about their fantasies and ENM scenarios. My absolute favorite part though is if they want to put themselves into the starring role like one new follower wanted. We brainstormed an idea for a story, and he sent in some photos to go with it. Can't wait for you to read this end in the next part, and for VIP members, you can see him show off in the server 😉

Getting home from work, I could smell the sink before I even saw it. Dropping my bag and kicking off my shoes, I just reminded myself that I would have my own place in a few months. I could do this. I’d just moved across the country just a little over a month ago for a new job, and the honeymoon period still had not worn off. At work that is- the roommate had been discovered to be a dud almost immediately.

Before I moved, I had mapped out all of my expenses during this six-month lease, and I knew how much I had to put into my savings account each paycheck to have enough money for a one-bedroom apartment in January all to myself. I would utilize the free cafeteria at work for lunch, and I would find a roommate in a cheap place downtown near work so that I wouldn’t need to take the subway or expensive cabs. Everything had been lined up when I got here with just a few suitcases- I planned on living modestly until I got my own place. I wish I would have just moved all of my stuff then because that would have given less empty space for my new roommate to clutter up.

It was a Friday, and he was already out on the town. His latest art piece took up half of the living room, but that didn’t bother me- I normally stayed in my room. What bothered me was the mess in the sink that he’d left that somehow smelled like coffee grounds, tuna, and something vaguely sweet. Not even bothering to investigate, I splurged on take-out that I ate in my room.

--- 

“Dude, what the hell is this?”

“It’s a chore chart.”

“I am 27 years old.”

“That’s just what it says on your license.”

River had just walked into the apartment and noticed the piece of poster board that I had pilfered from the art department at work. I’d drawn a grid on it with various chores that needed to be completed each week, and there were columns for me and him.

“Your latest culinary adventure last week is what prompted this.”

“Never get recipes from Tik Tok.”

 “We both know the recipe wasn’t the problem.”

He sat down, quizzical expression on his face, as if he had never considered that he’d been the reason that the dish hadn’t turned out.

“What’s stopping me from not doing the chores? My name is the one on the lease.”

“And my credit score is so happy about that.” Again, another quizzical expression. “I know that I can’t charge you money because I know you barely have enough to pay your half of the rent.”

“You are correct, my brother. All I have is my art and the clothes on my back.”

“And the art won’t work.” He thought I was complimenting it- I was simply saying that no one would want it outside of this apartment, me included. “So, I guess it will be the clothes.”

“What?”

“Each time you miss something on the weekly chore chart, I get an item of clothing from your dresser. You’re constantly leaving to be somewhere else, so maybe if you don’t have the clothes to go anywhere, you can be stuck here and have to clean.”

“That’s evil.”

“So is what you left in that sink.”

“Fine, I’ll do this just to prove a yuppie wrong. You think I’m just some beatnik artist, but I can apply myself if I need to.”

Shaking on the deal, the chore chart was now in session. As he turned to head into his room, my smile grew even bigger.

“Oh and by the way, I decided to be a nice guy and help you with laundry this week. I sent everything in your hamper out to be cleaned.”

“Fuck!”

We both knew that he had less than a dozen pieces of clean clothing in that dresser…

---

It took just a week for him to lose every item in his dresser, and he was down to the three that he was wearing today- a shirt, a pair of jeans, and his underwear. He didn’t even have any socks left to trade. Of course I wasn’t going to tell him that his laundry that I’d cleaned was now folded and in my locked closet.

“Okay River, it’s time to face the music. You didn’t vacuum or dust this weekend.”

“Did too! Just because it’s not up to your standards doesn’t mean that I didn’t do it.”

“Oh yeah? Let’s see if you’re lying.”

Heading to the hall closet, I wheeled out the vacuum and held the duster in hand. I’d covered the duster in cling wrap, and on the bottom of the vacuum, I’d taped a piece of paper over the roller earlier in the week. He now knew that he was busted.

“So… what happens now?”

“That is two failed chores, and you’re out of clean clothes. So, I get the shirt and the jeans.”

He wanted to argue, but he knew that he’d lost. He began unbuttoning his shirt as I looked up at him from the couch. Tossing his shirt to me, I quietly folded it as he began peeling off his jeans. His last pair of underwear was a pair of old briefs, and I knew that he’d been desperate to find those. Most of the underwear in his laundry had been boxer briefs, and based on the blush, he didn’t like how much skin he was showing right now in that skimpy pair.

“Okay River, hopefully this is motivation for you to actually keep doing your chores since if you miss one more time than you’re naked.”

“Wait Ian, you never said when I’d get my clothes back.”

“You’re right- I didn’t.”

I left him with that dumbfounded look on his face as I walked back to my room with his clothes in my hands…