A Chaste Slave To My Ex Ch 04

Hello everyone!

English is not my native language, so please show understanding.

Any feedback, suggestions, ideas, comments, remarks and constructive criticism are welcome. All characters in this story are adults.

Thank you in advance!

She came into the house at noon the next day, and immediately the naughty, playful energy was in the room. Anthea is so sexy in that light summery outfit; the strapless purple T-shirt exposes her shoulders, while the sky-blue polka dot shorts bring out her legs. Blue-green flat sandals softly tapped the floor as she confidently went in.

"Well, it is so hot today; I think it's about time I witness one of your special skills, my boy. Let's get you into action as my little cooling fan right from one of your various fantasies." She chuckles, rather amused by how such tasks excite and humiliate me in equal measure. "You're going to fan me the way you love to imagine, aren't you?"

The thought of that, my heart throbs with thrill and embarrassment running in my blood. I know it is humiliating; yet the thrill never escapes me.

"Yes, Lady, I will do my best. I am so grateful!

She playfully pats my cheek before stepping toward the bedroom, her hips swaying with each step. I grab the long plastic pole with the big fan at its far end and goes to follow her into the room.

She lies on the bed, fully stretched in an idle manner. She has slipped on a highly revealing set of light purple silk lingerie, soft and smooth fabric clinging to her skin, barely concealing her exquisite curves. Her legs are bare, her chest open, and the hair falls loosely around the pillows. The sight of her hurts my cock as always, that is confined within this tight metal cage so steadfastly the source of frustration.

Anthea smiled wryly at me, her eyes alight with mischief. "Like what you see, fan-boy?" she taunted, the tone of her voice alone oozing mock. "Too bad that cage prohibits any sort of satisfaction."

She likes knowing what effect she has on me. The image of her in those lingerie in addition to the teasing is what keeps me nuts. But I am here to serve, so I stand at the foot of the bed, grasping onto the pole to which the fan is attached, ready to cool her off.

"Now listen. I want you to stand there at the footboard and fan me with a smooth tempo. Not too fast, not too slow. Just enough to keep me cool without mussing my hair. You hear?"

Nodding vigorously, I fall to my station at the foot of the bed, hands wrapping firmly onto the pole. I angle it on, holding fast in a futile effort at just making a soft, cooling breeze across her skin.

Anthea erupts into loud, hilarious laughter.

"Look at you, fanning yourself like it is some sort of mission in life. So willing to please me, aren't you, fan-boy?"

The words fall from her lips with a keen edge of mockery, yet I cannot help the thrill running through me. I am doing her bidding at every turn, humiliating myself in the most abject manner possible, and her pleasure taken in this serving only to inflame me further. My cock throbs in painful constriction, pulsating with every surreptitious glance I make at her body.

"Remember, boy, this is your sick fetish, not mine. You're the one who chose to live like this-serving me, cooling me down like some servant from a century past." She is giggling real hard now; she thought it was quite amusing. "Doesn't this remind you of those stories of white masters in Africa, with their slaves fanning them in the sweltering heat? Is that what stirs you, boy? Being my dutiful little fan-slave? Hi-hi!"

I feel a deep flush spread across my cheeks while fire lights inside me, humiliation burning in my belly. Her words are hard to take while sending shivers of arousal racing down my veins. I try to focus my attention on the fanning, but my gaze inevitably roams over her exposed body.

Of course, Anthea feels my stare.

"Keep your eyes on the fan, boy. You're here to cool me down, not drool over me." She laughs hugely, enjoying the futility of my existence at her mercy. "Though I understand you can't help it. Poor thing, all locked up, desperate and frustrated."

And she stretches further, lasciviously heaving her body on the bed while crossing and uncrossing her legs in languorous ease, enjoying refreshing breeze.

"You think this is beneath you somehow, boy? Fanning me in this fashion? Or does this excite you, do you know how pathetic you look, standing there with that fan, while I lay here looking so. irresistible?"

I swallow hard, fighting to compose myself. I wrap my hands around the pole a little tighter and continue to fan her with more flourishes, as my cock involuntarily throbs inside its restraint.

"I... I'm honored to serve you, Lady".

Anthea laughs triumphant in the moment.

"Oh, Indeed you are. You've become my little servant, haven't you? Just a tool for my comfort and enjoyment." She stretches her legs again, idly lifting one foot in my direction. "Perhaps you should be grateful for the privilege of being in my presence, much less for having the honor of fanning me."

My heart leaps with excitement, but I bend low, lowering the fan momentarily as I lean forward to kiss her foot in gratitude.

"Thank you, Lady. Grateful for the opportunity to be of service."

Anthea smiles, contented, "Good boy. Now continue to fan me. I want to feel nice and cool before I venture out again tonight."

I rise to my feet, breathe deeply, and go about whatever is next. Anthea leans back into the bed half-lidded, very much warming up to the cooling sensation, in complete control of her scenario. I am achingly aware that every stroke from the fan, every glance at her body further sends me deeper and deeper into my condition as an obedient, desperate fan-boy for her.

The heat becomes more and more intolerable as the sun rises to midday. Indoors, it is as if the air were just about equally weighted between Anthea and me. The only sound in the room is the low humming of the fan that I am moving up and down while Anthea's playfully mock comments continue to hit me in waves. I am standing by her bed, holding the long pole of the fan and switching it from one hand to another, for my arms ache from such effort, while the sweat drips off my face and chest. Before me, lying on, lies Anthea in her see-through purple silk underwear; the light fabric barely constraining her curves.

Anthea says playfully, with a teasing smile.

"Look at you, boy. All sweaty and sore, just for me. Does it make you horny?" She chuckles low. "Knowing you're standing there, exhausted, your muscles aching, and all for my comfort?"

I'm both mortified by her teasing and aroused by the humiliation of it. Every part of me is attuned to her comfort, to knowing she will stay cool while I suffer under the strain.

"Yes, Lady. Your comfort is the utmost importance."

Anthea shifts on the bed slightly, her smile widening as she lazily lays one arm over her head, the action causing the fabric of her bra to stretch tighter over her chest.

"Good boy. My comfort is always one of your top priorities, isn't it? You'll get used to it soon enough-fanning me, serving me, exhausting yourself for me while I lie here without a care in the world."

Her words strike me in shame, arousing at the same time. I keep moving the fan according to her dictations. The heat inside was apparently very unbearable, but the fire inside me because of arousal is much worse as I look in her direction.

"Like feeling sweaty from head to toe, boy? It feels even more pathetic, right, knowing you're the only one suffering while I feel this cool breeze?" She says mockingly, very pleased with your torment. "Get back to work. I am nowhere near done with you yet."

I gulp hard, as the arms ache with the burning muscles, but I go on and fan her. I feel the strain thus inflicted on me, but she, lying so comfortably in the bed, is worth it all. It is a pleasing factor to me as well as making her comfortable, even if I had to suffer through it.

"Already tired, fan-boy? Move that fan faster and cool me down; can't you feel it has gotten hot and now unbearably hot? You don't want me to sweat and feel bad, do you?"

She stretches her left leg: her toes raise my chastity belt and drop it. And then she repeats all that teasingly over and over again, smiling, while she watches my wedged penis against the metal bars of the cage, its skin sticking out between them from my horniness. With increased energy I shake the fan faster sending waves of cool air all over her body. Anthea giggles and says mockingly.

"I think I found your button to work faster. All I need is to touch your cage with my feet. How easily manipulated you are anyway; ha-ha!"

Despite my fatigue and sweat, I go on almost frantically rocking the fan up and down.

"I will do anything to earn these moments of blissful moments of being touched by your feet, Lady Anthea."

My words causes a new wave of laughter in Anthea.

"I imagine even you realize the ridiculousness of it all Richard boy. From your entitlement to fondle me and do whatever you want to my body, you have become a beggar for a few caresses from my feet ha-ha!"

She couldn't be more right, but I would still choose what I am now in her life, not some entitled boyfriend.

She stretches her arms up over her head, in a languid manner, after some time. Her soft body stirs under the thin veil of her lingerie, and she leans her head to one side, flashing me a sleepy smile.

"I think I am going to go nap now, boy. Keep fanning me, though. I want to stay cool when sleeping."

The thought that this may have to be continued for God knows how long depresses my heart a little, yet I nod, undaunted, and continue to do so, switching the fan from hand to hand so the ache can be distributed equally in my arms. I am sweating from head to toe, standing over the bed, discharging my duty.

Anthea's breathing has relaxed completely now that she is sleeping lightly, her light snores filling the silent room. I watch her closely, mesmerized by her beauty and the way she wields control so easily over me.Her chest rises softly and falls, and her soft moans periodically break the silence as she dreams. The vision of her naked body, the soft breasts spilling out of the purple bra, and my poor cock throbs in agony behind the bars.

My eyes catch onto her underwear, where a hint of her blonde pubic hair peeks out from the fabric. A view only adding to my torment as my cock hardens more in that tight cage. She stirs in her sleep, rolling onto her side, with a stretch of her body in a new pose. The string panties ride up slightly to expose the nestling strap between her buttocks pressed into her by the thin fabric. I'm fixed on the vision; my arousal grows. I try to concentrate my attention on the fan, on keeping her cool, but my eyes keep drifting down to that strap between her cheeks, the way it accentuates her perfectly shaped body. The longer I stare at her, the more my arousal grows, yet the cage around my cock only tightens further, causing me more frustration.

'She's so perfect. So beautiful. I'm nothing compared to her.'

The longer I fan her, the more sweat pours from my body, and yet I just cannot take my eyes off Anthea. She continues to softly moan in her sleep, and each sound seems like a tease-as if even in her sleep she knows how much she's tormenting me. I mean, seriously, utterly smitten by the beauty, dominance, and sheer power she holds over me.

Finally, as though after an age of quiet waiting, Anthea stirs fitfully, her eyes flashing open for an instant.

The fan hums softly in the background as Anthea stretches luxuriously on the bed, smiling down at me as sweat drips from my brow. Her blue eyes are gleaming with amusement, her laughter sweet yet commanding.

"Still fanning me boy? All sweaty, worn out, and oh so desperate. Oh how sweet of you! I really appreciate you kept me cool and I enjoyed a deep sleep." She raises her eyebrows teasingly. "You've done a good job cooling me down. You deserve a reward, boy."

She stretches out her legs and wiggles her toes, as if she was offering me her feet like some sort of precious gift.

"You may kiss and lick my feet for. 7 minutes. Exactly 7." She beams, pleased with the power that resides in her hands. "Now, get it."

I fall to my knees immediately and lower my head, starting reverently at the tip of her big toe, planting light, slow, dainty kisses along the pad of each toe, and truly enjoy the clean, smooth skin of her under my lips. Every kiss is precise and an act of devotion and adoration.

I lean and kiss each toe, my tongue darting out with each one to outline the edge of her toenails, then slides between her toes. She watches me, her eye keen, sharp, and approving, as I attend to her toes. I lower my head to her arch, pressing my lips against the curve of her sole and moving in a circular motion.

My tongue starts at the heel and licks upward along the sensitive skin, tickling the sole as I enjoy the salty flavor of her sweat. I reach the ball of her foot. Leave my tongue there hard against the flesh and give it a good, solid, broad lick. Anthea hums, liking my servitude.

Now, working my way back down to her toes, I delicately cup each one in the space between your lips, drawing them into your mouth one at a time, lightly sucking and then licking between them. I was aware of every subtlety-the texture of her skin, the softness of her foot, the heat emanating from her body.

Anthea's phone rings as I am licking her feet. She answers offhandedly, without even turning her head from my discomfited act of devotion. She rolls her head back to lean on the pillow, and then she crosses, her voice so bright.

"Hey, girl, how are you?" She listens, pausing. "Oh, you're going out tonight? Where to?" She smiles, clearly enjoying what she's hearing.

Anthea stoops, looking down at me-her foot still in my mouth-considering the invitation a moment.

"At that new club downtown? Hmm... That sounds like fun! Yeah, I'll be there." She chuckles lightly, in a playful tone. "I need a night out with my good friends."

I resumed licking and worshipping her feet as she continued to chat away, fully integrated into the conversation while I continued focused on my job.

Anthea talking over the phone: "Oh, don't you worry, I shall be free by then. I'm just enjoying some. personal time at the moment." A smirk on her face evidences how much she is enjoying the double meaning of her words.

"Definitely darling. See you there!" She hangs up and shifts back to me, face softening. She stretches languidly on the bed, eyes agleam as she looks down at me still dutifully worshipping her feet.

"Hmm. you do such a good job with my feet, boy." Then out of nowhere she lets this soft giggle out. "You know what? You made me all wet hihi!" Teasingly, a smile was dancing on her lips. "Looks like I need you to take care of it, slave."

Her words hang in the air, taunting, while she teases me full well, knowing exactly how those words make me feel. The shift on the bed is minimal, her legs parting just enough to hint at her arousal.

"But first." She brushes the top of her foot against my cheek. "Finish my feet. You've got two minutes left. Make them count."

I feverishly lick her feet, imagining what will be happening next. Anthea sits on the edge of bed and holds a smooth black silk blindfold in her hands, teasing it between her fingers.

"You've been such an eager boy, haven't you?"

Her voice is low, sultry even, oozing command as she bends down a little, wrapping the blindfold around my head. And as the soft fabric covers my eyes, my world goes dark. Immediately, my senses heighten, and all concentration shifts to the sensation of her presence: the heat of her body, the smell of her skin.

"Now, listen up." Her voice is close-a whisper in my ear that runs a shiver down my spine. "You will do exactly as I say. Your tongue will please me and nothing else matters. You'll know when I'm satisfied."

I feel the weight of the bed shift as she reclines back, her legs parting slightly, pulling me between them. With the blindfold in place, I am completely at her mercy, my mouth the only tool of her satisfaction.

"Start at my thighs and move slowly."

I do so immediately, my lips trailing light, reverent kisses up along her inner thigh. I inhale deep of the amazing scent of her juices, my tongue flicking out to taste the softness of skin. Every kiss is precise, measured, as I begin working my way up toward the source of her heat.

"Slower. Don't rush." Her voice is breathy, a soft hum of control.

With every kiss, every lick I plant into her skin, it reacts to the tension building beneath my lips as she tightens up just a little. A soft gasp escapes her, and I know I am going in the right direction. I feel her hand in my hair, pressing me down slightly.

"Now... lick me there." She murmurs through her moans...

Immediately recognizable, without hesitation, my tongue presses deeper, stroking her slippery folds. Immediately, her arousal flavors my mouth as I press my tongue flat, stroking her with the full deliberate strokes she hungers for.

"Yes. yes, just like that."

I lower and begin to lick her, smooth and measured. Her body responds with hips slightly raised off the bed, meeting my tongue, as a deep moan escapes her lips.

"Mmm.yes, good boy. Keep going." Sultry, the tone, and I could tell already that her control was wavering slightly. "Faster now. Don't stop."

I quickly increase the pace-my tongue slapping against her clitoris. The wet sounds of my labor grow louder in the room. Her moans grow louder, more shallow, her breathing becoming erratic. I feel her legs stiffening, right down to her toes, her body pleading with me to keep going.

"Ahh. right there! Don't stop!" Her voice now a little higher, more desperate, the words ooze delight.

I feel my frustration mount as the heat from her body and the taste of her on my tongue tightens the chastity device further, my arousal near unbearable. There is no relief for me-my attention must be for her, for the way her moans grow louder, her hips grinding against my mouth as she nears the edge.

The sheets wring beneath Anthea's grasping hands now, her breathing coming in short, ragged gasps, as I push her closer and closer to orgasm. She's no longer speaking in coherent sentences, just moaning, panting, her body writhing beneath me.

"Oh god. yes. yes. don't stop, boy!" Her voice is sharp, commanding, filled with need.

I press harder with my tongue, faster and harder, my motions wild but contained as I continue to follow every order she gives me. I feel her body tensing up further and further, the signs that her orgasm is very near undeniable.

Her entire body arcs and her thighs clamp down tight around my head as she lets out a loud, guttural moan.

"YES. YES. YES! Oh my god, don't you dare stop!" her voice high and screaming in ecstasy as the echo of her climax fills the room.

Her frame shudders wildly as her hips buck, buck, buck against my face. The waves crash over her. I keep laving, my tongue going furious as she rides the crest of her pleasure, her moans turning to breathless cries of satisfaction.

"Ohhh. fuck... fuck!" she gasps as her body finally goes limp, the last strong tremors of her orgasm finally subsiding.

I just lie there, blindfolded and panting, the taste of her climax still upon my lips. She is heaving with hard breathing, sinking back into the bed as she composes herself. Gently, she pulls the blindfold off my eyes; her face is flushed and aglow with satisfaction.

"That was perfect lover-boy." She purrs low in her throat, her voice no more than a whisper, but full of confidence. "You made me come so hard, but don't think I've forgotten about you." She gazes down at my frustrated, caged state with a wicked smile.