A Chaste Slave To My Ex Ch 12

Hello, everyone!

I write a story that will unfold gradually through snapshots of everyday life in a Female Lead relationship under a strict chastity regime.

Please be understanding, as English is not my native language.

Any feedback, suggestions, ideas, comments, remarks, or constructive criticism is appreciated. Every character in this story is an adult.

Please rate the story! Thank you, in advance!

Anthea stepped inside, her long brown hair flowed over her shoulders, framing her blue eyes, which swept over the space with an air of quiet command. The faint click of the door closing sent a ripple of anticipation through me. She smiled, a small, knowing curve of her lips.

I dropped instantly onto my knees, bowing my head in greeting. "Good evening, Lady," I murmured, my voice reverent, "welcome your home." And before I had even finished my sentence my lips were touching the soft skin of her toes, tops and soles in loudly wet kisses.

"Evening, boy," she said, barely smiling; her voice was soft, as smooth as velvet. She then passed by me, the faint scent of her perfume wafting through the air toward the couch, invitingly. "Come here, boy," she said, softly but commandingly.

I crawled to her side and knelt down again as she sat. Relaxed, her posture easy as one leg crossed over the other, her foot swinging lazily. She leaned forward, looking down at me, and cocked her head to one side, weighing me up.

She set her bag down beside her and looked around the room, her quick eyes drinking in every detail. "I imagine you've been waiting for this moment, haven't you?"

"Yes, Lady," I confessed, my voice trembling. "It's been. difficult. I... I can't stop thinking about it. Please, Lady, I must be released. It's so terribly long."

"It's been five weeks, hasn't it?" she said, her voice light, yet calculated.

"Yes, Lady," I returned, and my voice trembled in my throat. Those weeks lay heavy upon me, like a mountain range. The denying, the relentless pain of it all it was just so too much.

She leaned back on the couch, tucking a strand of hair back behind her ear. "And how do you feel, boy?"

I swallowed. "Frustrated, Lady. Desperate." Her smile deepened ever so slightly.

"Desperate enough to beg?" My cheeks heated up, but I didn't look away. "I'd do anything, Lady."

Anthea huffed low, a soothing and yet intimidating sound. "Anything is a dangerous promise, my slave." She leaned forward, just a little, her toes tickling my cheek. My heart was racing at the light, teasing contact. Her lips curved into a subtle smirk. "Tell me, boy, why do you think you deserve an orgasm now?"

The question came as a complete surprise. My mind scrabbled for an answer. "Because I've been good," I said fervently. "I've followed your rules, Lady. I've obeyed you in everything. Isn't it time to reward me?"

She regarded me for a long moment, then reached out and gently cupped my chin, her fingers cool against my skin. "Reward you?" she murmured, her tone soft but edged with something sharper. "Perhaps. But tell me this, what happens afterward? Will you remain as devoted, as controlled, as disciplined as you've been these past weeks?"

I swallowed hard, not really knowing how to answer.

"I see that hesitation, boy," she said, releasing my chin and settling back into her seat. "That's just what I'm afraid of. Do you have any idea how far along we've come over these weeks? You were learning restraint, patience, self-control, all the things you never had before."

"But, Lady," I protested, "I've proven myself! I have been patient for so long. Isn't that worth something?"

Her gaze softened for a moment, and she reached out to brush a strand of hair from my forehead. The gesture was almost maternal, yet it carried a quiet dominance that made my pulse quicken.

"You know, boy," she began, her tone suddenly more serious, "I've been thinking a lot about this. About you. About... your needs." She tapped her chin thoughtfully, her eyes studying me.

"Lady, I-" I started to say, but she interrupted me with the slight lift of her hand.

"Let me speak," she said finally.

I nodded hastily. "Yes, Lady."

She sighed and her foot slid down to rest lightly against the chastity device that encased me. The touch was maddeningly light, just enough to remind me of its presence.

"I understand your need for release," she said. "I truly do. And I know it must be hard for you. I'm not cruel for the sake of being cruel, Richard. I know how much you crave it. But..." She paused, her eyes narrowing slightly. "I worry."

Her foot moved again, tracing along the curve of the device, sending shivers up my spine. "I fear an orgasm might undo all the improvement we have achieved these last weeks. I can't jeopardize everything we've made. Actually, I don't trust you're prepared for this step. Not yet."

The edge in her tone stung, but I couldn't argue with her. There was something about the way she always cut straight to the core of things, held up a mirror to my own failures. Desperation, however, clawed at me.

"Lady, please," I begged, my voice cracking. "I promise I won't disappoint you. I'll be good. I'll do whatever you want. Just this once. I need it."

"You say that now, boy. But I've seen how you behave when you're not kept in check. You lose focus and interest. You become selfish." She shook her head. "No. I don't believe you're ready for that step yet."

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. "Lady, I swear I've changed. Please, just one orgasm. I'll prove it to you."

Anthea's foot slid upward, pressing light but firm on my balls through the fabric of the cage. It was enough to make me gasp. "You think begging will persuade me?" she asked, her voice cutting.

I swallowed hard, shaking my head. "No, Lady."

"Good," she replied, falling back onto her supine position once more. "Because I've already made my mind up. You're not going to have an orgasm tonight, boy. Not this week. Not anytime soon, in fact."

The words felt like a blow to the solar plexus. "Lady..."

Her toes grazed my lips, which hushed me up. "Hush," she ordered.

I took that as my cue and pressed my lips against her toes, an act of subjugation.

For a moment, Anthea watched me, her face inscrutable. She reached out her bare foot and laid it against my cheek. The unexpected tenderness made me shiver; of its own accord my eyelids drooped.

"Poor boy," she whispered, "so needy, so desperate. But listen to me." Her toes traced a path down my face to my collarbone and back up; it was impossible to focus on anything but the touch of her foot. "What you need isn't an orgasm. What you need is release. There's a difference."

I opened my eyes to see her staring intently at me. "What do you mean, my Lady?"

"You need relief," she said, her voice soft yet unyielding-a blade sheathed in velvet. "I'll drain the pressure from you, prostate milk you until the ache fades. Your body will thank me. But there will be not much pleasure, no indulgence." She leaned closer, her lips curling into a faint smirk. "I'll give you what you need, boy, not what you want."

Her words sent a confusing rush of emotions coursing through my body, relief, frustration, and something darker that I couldn't quite name.

"Prostate milking?" I echoed

She was smiling broadly. "Be careful what you wish for... You mentioned it in your letter, boy. Then Nikki mentioned it, and then Melina -my friend dominatrix- with such experience suggested it. It is not coincidence that all of them mentioned prostate milking."

"But why not let me finish, Lady?" I asked in a whisper. "Would not that be better?

Slowly, she shook her head. Her foot now traced the edge of my jaw line. "No. Because I know you. The moment you climax, you will lose everything we've worked for. Your discipline will crumble, and you'll have to start again. Milking will take the physical tension out without giving you the satisfaction of an orgasm. Do you see the wisdom in this?"

I stared at her with my mind racing. "But, Lady... that's..."

"What is? Unfair? I am not a heartless bitch but it's necessary Richard."

"I know Lady. I am sorry. my mind is occupied and cannot think clear."

Anthea tapped my head in affection. "This is about our progress and future. I need to be able to trust you, and I don't yet."

I merely lowered my head, defeated. "I understand, Lady."

Her hand extended, casually brushing up against my cheek. "Do you? Do you truly understand why this is important?"

"I think so, Lady," I said after a moment's time.

Her toes were tracing lazy circles on my chastity cage. It was a maddening feeling, the resistance inside me weakening. "You'll feel better, lighter, and calmer. And I'll be happy knowing you're still under my control. Isn't that what you want, boy? To please me?"

"Yes, Lady," I mumblеd, my rеsistance crumbling undеr hеr touch.

"Good," she said, her voice firm now. "Then you'll agree to this. I'll milk you next week, and you'll thank me for it."

Her toes trailed to my neck, then my chest, a soothing touch that sent shivers down. "When I deny you, you're sharper focused. Obedient. Hungry to please me. But I've seen what happens when you're satisfied. You lose your edge. You lose me. And I won't let that happen."

"But Lady," I ventured weakly, "I can change. I can prove it to you."

She shook her head, "Actions louder than words. Remember the last time I let you finish?" she asked, tone cool but sharp. "You promised me control, Richard. And you slipped. You stopped listening in. You stopped serving for a couple of days. Do you want to go back to that? Do you want to fail me again?"

Her toes trailed down a little further, brushing against the chastity device once more. "This is about control, my slave. About teaching you discipline. Patience. Submission." Her voice softened slightly. "And it's about protecting you, too. You might not see it now, but this is for your benefit as much as mine."

I looked up at her, my eyes pleading. "Please, Lady... I'll do anything."

She sighed, her hand moving to rest on my head, her fingers tangling softly in my hair. "I know you will, boy. And that's why I'm doing this. Because I care about you. About us."

This time, her toes grazed across my swollen balls, staying there an instant longer. "Prostate milking is not what you want," she whispered, "but it is what you need. It will keep you focused. Clear-headed. And it will make certain that we can go on growing together."

I closed my eyes as the sensation of her touching me overwhelmed. "I... I trust you, Lady," I whispered.

"Good," she said, her voice warm. "That's all I ask."

There was complete silence for a moment but for the sound of our breathing. Then she drew back, her hand falling to her lap. "You may kiss my feet, boy," she said, softly.

I lowered my head, pressing my lips to her toes in a token of submission and gratitude.

The instant my lips grazed her skin, her voice caressed me, a soft whisper wrapping around me like a velvet noose. "This isn't punishment, Richard. It's a lesson. A gift. We're building something stronger, something lasting. Trust me, Richard. Trust in us."

I pressed my lips to her toes once more. Each kiss was a silent vow. "I do, Lady Anthea," I whispered. In that moment, I wasn't just hers. I was home.

She settled back, her eyes closing briefly as she sighed contentedly. "You're a good boy," she said softly. "And one day, you'll understand why this is necessary. But for now..." She opened her eyes, her gaze meeting mine. "You'll do as I say. Won't you?"

"Yes, Lady," I replied promptly.

"Good," she said, the smile broadening. "Now, fetch me some iced juice. We have a long night ahead of us."

I rose to my feet, curtsying deep, and scurried to the kitchen. As I fixed her juice, her words ran along in my mind. When I was back with the juice, she was seated on the couch again, serene. I knelt and proffered the glass as she looked down at me with a mix of affection and authority.

"Good boy," she whispered, taking the glass from my hands with muted gentleness.

"Now you earned a big privilege and reward. This is the last Thursday of the month and every last Thursday of each month you will enjoy the privilege of a nice, pleasant, hard-on. Isn't it merciful of me, boy?"

"Oh yes Lady, thank you very much Lady, You are so good to me!" I exclaimed excitedly.

The clock said 10:00 PM. Anthea was sprawled on the couch, her thin body wrapped around a satin pink negligee that shimmered as she made each slight movement with her body. A cold beer in her hand, crossed legs in languid grace, she appeared as if she were in full control of everything.

I stood before her silent, in inspection pose. The butt-plug nestled firmly in my anus; the nipple clamps pinched with a sharp, persistent sting, and the tiny bell hanged from my balls swayed between my legs, its delicate chime punctuating the silence whenever I moved. Anthea held the key, twirling it absently in her fingers as though weighing its significance.

At precisely 10:02PM, I lowered myself onto my knees before her, my head bowed low in submission. "Lady," I started, my voice trembling with sincerity and excitement, my eyes stuck on her divine toes.

"I humbly beg for your mercy. Please, grant me the honor of an erection tonight. I know I am unworthy of such a gift, but I live to serve you and to feel your control. Please, Lady, unlock me and allow me this fleeting taste of your mercy."

Anthea said with a benevolent smile.

"Well, boy, this is the highlight of your month, isn't it? Your sacred five minutes. Five whole minutes out of thirty days. That's... what? Less than 0.01% of your life this month? Such a rare treasure, isn't it?"

"Yes my Lady, thanks to your good heart."

"You are welcome boy. You know it is your lucky day, today. I'm feeling particularly generous. I've reflected on your efforts during my vacation. Seventy-five hours of writing Shakespeare's Sonnet 58. All that time, bent over your desk, aching hands scribbling for me, while I was stretched out on a beach in Ibiza, sipping cocktails, soaking in the sun, and... well, doing other things you'll never experience."

She smirked and leaned forward slightly, her voice dipping into sympathy.

"Seventy-five hours of hard labor, and yet... what's a fair reward for that kind of dedication? After much deliberation, I've decided: one second for every hour you spent writing."

"Thank you, Lady. You are so kind and generous."*

"That's right, boy, seventy-five additional seconds on top of your usual two minutes for erection. Three minutes and fifteen seconds total. My generosity knows no bounds, does it?"

I was bowing my head deeply. "Thank you, Lady. Your kindness humbles me."

Her laughter was soft but edged with mischief. "One hour of writing for one second of erection time. You'd think someone as clever as you might negotiate better terms. Imagine, boy, sixty minutes of cramping hands, burning eyes, and aching shoulders, and your reward? The blink of an eye. Hi-hi, it's almost tragic, isn't it? But alas, here you are."

She giggles. "But I am a generous Lady. Very well, I grant you permission."

I was trying to suppress the trembling in my voice. "I am still grateful, Lady. You are far too generous. Thank you so much."

"Damn right I am. Without me, you'd get nothing." Then she continued with sympathy in her voice. "Poor boy. All those hours of devotion, and yet your freedom barely lasts long enough to take a breath. Compare that to me, I lost count of my orgasms this month. Honestly, I spent more time deciding which pair of sandals to wear in Ibiza than you'll spend enjoying yourself this entire month." She patted my head. "But for a slave 5 minutes in bliss are more than enough... Now bring me the gloves."

I immediately scuttled to retrieve the cleaning gloves I had set aside earlier. Presenting them to her with both hands, I bowed my head low, waiting as she gracefully slips them on, each movement deliberate, teasing. The yellow latex clung tightly to her fingers, and she flexed them with a slow, deliberate motion, knowing full well how the sight enraptured me.

At precisely 10:05, she rose gracefully and retrieved the key from the coffee table. Her movements were unhurried, measured, and precise as she approached me. "Stay still," she commanded softly. I obeyed, barely breathing as she crouched to unlock the cage.

"Five minutes," she said, setting the timer on her phone with a theatrical flourish. "Make it count."

I scrambled to my feet, racing to the bathroom to deliver the chair, then the timer, then the key, then the cage, each item requiring a frenzied dash from room to room. The small bell jingled incessantly with my movements, a constant reminder of my humiliation. Each trip felt like an eternity, the seconds slipping away as the timer began its relentless countdown.

When everything was in place, Anthea rose from the couch, her movements languid and deliberate, each sway of her hips mesmerizing. She knew I was desperate to savor every second, and she drew out her power over me with the grace of a seasoned performer as walked slowly to the bathroom.

As I crawled behind her, my eyes were drawn to the sway of her hips, and the tantalizing glimpse of her buttocks as they peek out from beneath the pink satin negligee.

She glanced back once, catching me staring, and smiled knowingly. She entered the bathroom and sat regally on the chair, her legs crossed as I rose to stand at attention before her.

"Such eagerness," she commented, her voice dripped with mock approval. With her gloved hands, she reached out and began stroking me. Her touch was deliberate, commanding, and within seconds, my body responded. She smiled, triumphant.

"Look at that," she mused, her voice dripping with mock amazement. "My magic hands bring you to life. Funny, isn't it? There was a time when my naked body and even my mouth couldn't rouse this pathetic thing when we were vanilla. But now, my gloves alone have you hard in seconds."

I flushed with shame, her words cutting and true. "Lady, I... Your touch is divine," I stammered, desperate to please her.

She tilted her head, her expression turning briefly contemplative. "How ironic. You call me divine now, but you never saw me this way before. No matter, I suppose. You're better trained now." Her tone softened into feigned sympathy. "Enjoy it while it lasts, my dear slave. The clock is ticking."

My erection throbbing and undeniable. Anthea chuckles, her tone tinged with playful derision. She leaned back, watching my erection and the timer as it ticks closer to zero. "What a pathetic little creature you've become. Time flies when you're... well, having your pitiful version of fun. Do you enjoy your hard-on Richard?"

"Yes Lady Anthea, I am so grateful, thank you so much!"

She tried to stifle her laughter. "Look at you, so excited for something that's over in the blink of an eye. It's honestly adorable. Meanwhile, I spent hours on that yacht in Ibiza, being utterly spoiled. You can't imagine how good Pedro was at... well, let's just say he knew how to keep me satisfied for hours on end."

Her words made my erection rock hard; I was on the ninth cloud.

She began the countdown aloud, her voice a playful lilt. "Fifteen seconds... ten... five..."

The timer beeps. She claps her hands dramatically.

"Aaaand, that's it! Back in the cage, little one. Unfortunately happiness doesn't last long and all the nice things come fast to the end. Hope you enjoyed your fleeting moment of freedom. I'll be sure to think of it next time I lose myself in hours of blissful pleasure."

As the ritual orders, I sprinted to the kitchen to retrieve the ice bag, returning with equal speed. Anthea took it from my trembling hands and began to rub the cold pack over my throbbing erection, her touch now clinical as she rubbed the freezing bag over my cock and balls. The cold was excruciating, and my erection quickly subsided.