A Chaste Slave to My Ex Ch. 02 Fetish


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I kneel on both my knees at the door, my forehead to the floor, arms extended forward with palms down waited for Anthea to come and enter. As she steps inside, I immediately welcome her.

“Good evening Lady, welcome to your home, your presence honors me” and I kiss her feet with fervor, starting from the heels and moving up to the top and her toes through the dark brown sandals she wears, showing my passion and enthusiasm as per the protocol.

I look at her in admiration. She smiles and giggles, then comments on my welcome.

“Such a good boy. I love your enthusiasm, warmth and passion. Do you remember how you used to greet me when we were a couple?”

She crosses her arms, her voice steady.

“You were frowning, bored, grumpy, with an aura of entitlement and rarely smiling especially after the first few weeks.”

For the hundredth time guilt overwhelms me and I kiss her legs even more passionately.

“It pissed me off then, but now, look at you! You know your place. You will never treat me like this again, ever again. Now you are my servant and you will show me the respect you have not shown me.”

She nudges away my face with her foot.

“I’ve had enough of you getting horny on my feet, let’s get to work, we have a lot to do today!”

I prepare her coffee I take the tray to the bedroom and serve it with water on the bedside table next to her bed and then I curtsey lifting up my apron revealing my cage and shaved genitals. Anthea giggles and lies on the bed taking a sip of coffee then cross her legs in the bed and order me to organize her closet. She watches me with an amused expression, her sharp blue eyes watching my every move as I stand in front of her open closet, ready to begin the difficult task of organizing clothes, underwear, socks, accessories, and linens.

Her voice is soft but commanding.

“Let me let you in on a secret. Any selfrespecting woman would call the relationship she has with her wardrobe romantic. To us, it is not just clothes; it is something to remind us of moments. You get me?

I nod my head.

“Now boy, I want perfection in my wardrobe.”

I nod humbly, knowing already the heavy burden of this challenge. “Indeed, my Lady. I shall try to please you the best way I can.”

Anthea smiles slightly, “Oh, I know you will. But think, the best you can do is often not enough.”

She takes a sip of her coffee and smiles.

“What use has a slave if he doesn’t work hard to make my life more comfortable? haha!”

I answer meekly at once, “Thank you very much Lady for making me useful and productive.”

“Starting with my clothes I want them organized by color and season. “My summer dress is here.”

She pointed to the other side of the closet. “There’s the winter coats. Hang all my clothes by length and color. Make no mistakes. I’ll be keeping a close eye on you.”

I carefully begin to cast off her clothes, ensuring to set up them in the appropriate sections. I vicinity her summer dresses at the hangers, looking to be meticulous.

Anthea lets out a playful laugh

“Hihi, what are you doing? This hanger is completely wrong for this dress. You should know better, boy.’

She gets up, takes the hanger from me and holds it up with a smile.

“Look at this you want to ruin my clothes? Honestly, sometimes I wonder how you thought you could follow me.”

I feel a surge of shame and quickly change the hanger, trying to correct my mistake.

“Forgive me, Lady. “

Anthea interrupts me, her voice firm: “Intentions don’t matter, results do. Now, fix it. Correctly!”

I work, more carefully now. I manage to finish organizing the clothes like she told me to. Next, I move on to the underwear drawer. Sensitive items make me nervous as I handle them, knowing that one wrong move will invite more criticism.

Anthea says in teasing tone, “Be careful with these, boy. My underwear is far more valuable than anything else you will ever touch. I’d hate to see them in the hands of someone as clumsy as you.”

She leans forward, watching me carefully. “Fold them nicely. I want everything in perfect rows bras together, panties together, by color. If a couple is out of place, you start over.”

I finish arranging the first few pieces, but she suddenly interrupts with a sly sneer.

“Boy, that’s not good enough. Look at that fold it’s crooked! Are you paying attention at all? Do you want me to believe that you are incapable of handling something as simple as folding underwear?’

Having folded each item with great care, I go down running to her socks. Anthea keeps sipping her coffee and commenting on my folds.

“Socks are the easiest thing in the world to fold, and yet you still look like you’re struggling. Hihi! Hard to match them out, boy?”

She watches me while matching up each pair with the utmost amount of care.

“Let’s see. this one is okay, but what about these? See how uneven they look? You’ll have to make them over.”

Anthea lies on the bed, crossing her legs as she pays keen attention to the work I am doing.

When I get through with that, I look upon her accessories: belts, bags, scarves, and jewelry.

She grins, ‘I want my belts rolled, not folded. And scarves stop crumpling them all together, instead stack them stuffed, neatly and in color order. Seriously, should I be the one telling you every little thing? I thought a houseboy would have some instincts by now.”

Oh, her criticism hurt, but I obliged to roll the belts and drape the scarves as she explained. It is like every action is an examination, with the thing she is most focused on being my hands and her eyes trailing them. Then I place her bags in a row by size and color.

“Hihi, you know, for someone who spends so much time at my feet, for the time you have been under my influence organizing seems to be quite difficult for you. But I suppose for that very reason, that is what makes you always needing my help and guidance, you can never do it alone.”

I slightly grit my teeth but somehow manage to control my anger.

“I appreciate your guidance Lady and would like to say thank you for providing the necessary support. I will improve.”

“You keep talking about how you’ll change and how it’ll no longer be an issue. Oh, you’ll improve, all right. But don’t think for a second that it’ll ever be good enough for me.”

She indicates the storage for the linen. “Now about my sheets. There shouldn’t be a single wrinkle when arranging the towels they must be folded using the same crease. And the sheets, perfectly placed with the cleanest on top. Don’t even think of messing up the order; I’ll make sure for you to start it all over again.”

After what feels like forever of careful work, I finish the task. I step back, hoping I met her standards.

Anthea stands up and walks slowly toward the closet. “Hmm… not too bad. For you, at least.”

She looks at me with a wicked smile. “But don’t think that means you are done, boy. I will inspect it every day, and if even one thing is out of place, you will do it all over again.”

I bow my head in submission, knowing that no matter how hard I try, Anthea will always find a way to make me strive for perfection. Although her high expectations I feel gratitude to rush me for just working for her.

“Thank you Lady, for providing me with an opportunity to make arrangements with your things. I will not let them suffer from damaged conditions.”

While softly laughing she says, “Good boy. All right. Now you will be able to fix dinnertime and I want you to do that.”

I walk away to go prepare dinner with the knowledge that my servitude is still far from being over.

It is Saturday and the warm weather is so exaggerated that I am not going out. Anthea had said she would go to the sea with her friends and I thought that’s it for the day. All of a sudden the front door opens and Anthea stands at the entrance looking downcast, drenched in heat and sweat with fatigued expressions on her face. The pink haltertopped Tshirt, denim shorts with suspenders and pink flipflops completed her outfit. She seems frustrated and before she could say anything, I jump up and hurry to the door.

I drop on my knees fast in my usual pose, kissing her feet

“Lady! I didn’t expect you back so soon! Welcome to your home!” I kiss her sweaty toes frantically in surprise, hoping my eager welcome will soothe her mood.

Anthea steps past me without acknowledging my frantic kisses and collapses onto the couch with a heavy sigh, clearly irritated by the unexpected turn of events. I quickly follow her, kneeling at her feet and continuing to kiss her toes, tops, and soles with zeal, hoping to soothe her further.

She seems grumbling and frustrated.

“The whole day is ruined. Can you believe it? We were all set to go to the sea, and then…” She throws her hands up in exasperation. “Fay’s husband, cheated on her last night after 3 years of marriage and they are heading for divorce.”

I stop kissing her feet and look up at her, offering my sympathy.

“I’m so sorry, Lady. That sounds awful.

Anthea nods her head.

“I know, ok? We were all so upset and we didn’t feel like going to the sea after what happened.”

She lets out a frustrated huff and sighs, her annoyance obvious on her face, plainly disappointed over the disrupted plans.

“That’s just my luck. I wanted a tranquil day by the sea, but instead, I’m stuck here in this awful heat, in the center of town, while everyone else is blasting music and cramming the beaches.”

I softly kiss her toes, hoping to draw her attention away from her unhappiness and toward comfort. After a few moments of kissing her feet I try to draw her attention away from her frustrating morning.

“If I may, Lady, your feet must have gathered dust from walking in flipflops. I can wash them for you. It may help you relax after such a hectic morning.”

Anthea looks down at me and gives a small nod, her expression softening as she realizes my attempt to soothe her agony.

With a little chuckle, she continues, “Hmph, it’s truethere’s dust and grime all over them. Ok, wash them as you want to prove you’re worth…”

I rush to carry the crystal basin full of water and a towel thrown over my shoulder. I place the bowl in front of her and kneel, carefully pull out the flipflops and lift her feet into the refreshing water. She glances at me with curiosity. I carefully wash and rub her feet, softly rubbing them to aid her relax.

“Isn’t it funny how time changes? You used to be my boyfriend, and now you’re kneeling, washing my feet like a servant.”

Her comments sting, but I maintain my focus, massage her exhausted feet with care and attention, feeling a profound sense of shame mixed with love for her.

I respond modestly while I wash her feet. “I am happy to serve you, Lady.”

Anthea sighs again, but her body relaxes significantly beneath my touch as I carefully wipe the dust and grime from her feet. She leans back slightly on the couch, irritated but relieved.

“It’s quite typical. I should be swimming in the sea right now, but instead I’m stuck in this sweltering town. I always get the short end of the stick.”

As I wash her feet, Anthea mumbles more like she is talking to herself than to me.

“There were problems in Fay’s marriage. Unfortunately I couldn’t give a session to my friend and give her advice, my strict professionalism didn’t allow it. I tried to show her the problems but she refused to see them. Is it my fault for not insisting?”

The old Anthea, she is always thinking of others and always blamed herself, which I didn’t like. I prefer the current Anthea with her confidence growing slowly but surely.

“In no way is it your fault Lady. Despite your vast experience and infinite skills you can’t work miracles when apparently Lady Fay didn’t want to deal with the problems.”

She looks at me piercingly and sadly.

“Perhaps you are right Richard. I don’t have a magic wand to perform miracles. Thank you for the support, you’ve always given it, I’ll give you that.”

I respond with modesty and humility.

“You know best Lady. Thank you so much for talking to me about this.”

I take my time, pat her feet dry with the towel, making sure not to leave a spot but rather having her feet completely clean and comfortable. Then I take the basin and towel to the bathroom, clean them up, and return to my kneeling position in front of her.

She coughs and looks at the humming air conditioner in the corner.

“Damn that air conditioner. It dries out the air, aggravates my cough, and interferes with my asthma. But how will I survive without it in this heat?

I nod in agreement, concerned about her.

” Would you like me to make you some tea or something to help with your cough?”

Anthea considers my offer for a moment before shaking her head and grumbling.

“No, that’s fine. You can’t do anything about the heat. Unfortunately, tea will not solve the airconditioning problem.”

My gaze shifts towards her and I can see that she is beginning to fidget due to the AC’s dry air and I try to help in that situation.

“And Lady Anthea may I use a fan instead of cooling you with the air condition unit, so that you can perhaps switch the AC off for some time.”

Now gazing in my direction, Anthea unlashing her hilarious laughter.

“Ohho! What’s this now? You’re volunteering to be my fan, like some sort of medieval servant or something? Hihihi!” She looks at me with a halffriendly, halfdistancing look in her eyes.

“Yes, Lady, if it pleases you.”

“Of course it would please me. Everything you do to serve me pleases me.” She waves her hand dismissively. “But no, I’ll keep the A/C on for now. I’m not going to make you fan me like some medieval servant… not today, at least. Hihi.”

She stretches her legs out, letting the cool air of the A/C blow over her, still coughing lightly.

“I suppose I just have to live with it. This summer is neverending.”

I remain kneeling, ready and willing to attend to her every need, despite the heat and her lingering frustration over the canceled trip.

She sits on the couch, her frustration from the canceled beach plans fading slightly as she watches you, clearly enjoying her power over you.

She stretches, then looks down at me, the playful but firm glint in her eye. “Boy, I have a little chore for you to do right now. I am sure it will mostly be to your liking.”

Immediately, I am erect and ready to serve in any way that she might request. “Yes, Lady. What would you have me do?”

Anthea waves casually towards the door.

“Go to the car.” There were three heavy bags in the back seat. Bring them inside for me.”

I am rushing to the door without second thoughts and making sure to bow deeply before going out, I head to her car. As promised, there are three large, heavy bags in the backseat, filled to the brim. I carefully gather them, struggling a little under their weight, but my determination to serve her keeps me focused.

I bring the bags inside and kneel back at her feet, placing the bags next to me, awaiting further instruction, out of breath.

Anthea glances at the bags and smiles.

“Good boy. Now, do you know what’s in it?’ She raises an eyebrow, teasing me as if I should guess.

I look at her curiously, but careful with my answer.

“I don’t know, Lady. But I am ready to serve in any way you wish.”

Anthea smiles, clearly enjoying the moment, and gestures towards the bags.

“These bags are full of unwashed clothes. Not just mine, but my mother’s too. Our dirty clothes, our underwear, everything. How do you like that, my boy? Do you have a problem washing my mother’s clothes?’

She asks the question playfully, clearly trying to provoke a reaction, but I keep my cool, knowing how important it is to please her. I answer with respect and humility.

“It would be my honor, my Lady. I have a lot of respect for your mother for what she is an incredibly successful, active and strong woman and mother. Above all, she is the woman who gave birth to you, and I will gladly take care of her laundry.”

Anthea stops for a moment, clearly pleased with my answer.

“Hmm, not bad. I am impressed by your willingness.” Anthea stretches her legs a little, to be comfortable. “Yes, my mother is a busy woman, she has a lot on her plate between work and home. Taking the laundry and ironing off her shoulders means a big help. I appreciate your input, boy.” Her tone is still playful, but there’s a glimmer of real appreciation for my willingness to serve her family.

“Thank you so much Lady Anthea. I will make you proud to your mother.”

She smiles, “You are not in the frame yet, boy so you can’t me proud to my mother for now.But you know what? If you do a good job. perhaps, just perhaps, I’ll consider giving you a little reward.” She says sweetly and full of promise.

I feel a pounding in my heart with the thought and try to restrain myself.

“Reward, my Lady?”

She nods slowly, holding the hope in front of me like a carrot on a string.

“Mmhmm… If you do all the washing, ironing and folding to perfection, I might let you out of your chastity device for just a brief period. And if I am in an extremely generous mood, perhaps I will even allow you to have a brief erection.”

Her words stay in the air like a promiseseductive yet tantalizing. Yet, I had learned long ago not to get my hopes too high, for it is a possibility, never a certainty. But even the mere thought that for the shortest time I will be released makes my body taut with tension.

I answer with a spark of excitement.

“Thank you, Lady, I will try my best that all shall be perfect.”

Anthea giggles softly and seems to take immense humor in the ease at which she can play with me.

Smirking, she says, “Of course you will. You’d do anything for even the slightest chance of reward, wouldn’t you, boy?”

“Yes, Lady Anthea. Anything for you.”

She smirks, “Good! I want everything washed, dried, and nicely ironed by the end of the weekend. And remember… perfection is the only way to get your reward.”

At that, she settles onto the couch to check her messages while I reach for the laundry bags, working out the weight of the task already in my mind. As much as I am quite eager to serve, I know the prospect of any rewardeven if it is going to be briefwill finally make me take very good care with all the pieces of clothing, both in washing and ironing.

I can almost still hear Anthea giggling to herself while I carry the bags in to the bathroom, delighting in my going out of my way to perform such a menial chore on her behalf in hope of the tiniest sliver of relief.

It is late morning. On my knees, I stand upon the cold tiles of the bathroom floor, ready to handwash the clothes which Anthea had brought in with those heavy bags earlier on. I have already set a chair for her, brought her mobile, cigarettes, ashtray, and a glass of icy juice. She comfortably sits behind me, a little bit towards the left, while I mix in the detergent into the basin water and am ready to start with the long task. She presents a relaxed figure as she leans back into the chair, watching me work with amusement on her face, her glass of juice in one hand, and a cigarette was lazily hanging from her lips.

“Oh, boy, isn’t this just the noble thing washing clothes by hand? It is so much easier on the fabric, you see, it saves the material, keeps the colors bright, and just think of all of the electricity I’m saving you by not putting them in the washing machine!” She says with a smirk as she draws long on her cigarette. “Not to mention water savings, the satisfaction that you did something worthwhile with those hands of yours and, of course, your happiness to touch my underwear that hugs my most intimate parts haha.”

I nod and silently prepare the mixture of detergent as she speaks.

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