Cinderfella: The Neighbourhood Help
By MHMacdonald.
In a rare moment to himself without a specific menial task to complete, things to fetch, or default protocol to comply with, his mind started to roam, free of any risk of being caught idle. His thoughts turned to his soccer team, whether they were still competing for the title, and if he would get to look at the back pages of the newspaper that Mrs. Rozycki typically had in the kitchen. He hoped so.
Cleaning and the odd handyman job for Mrs. Rozycki had become a regular once-a-week affair; Nikki deployed his special set of domestic skills to help her neighbour. It was easily the easiest morning, afternoon, or day of his week, plus Mrs. Rozycki always rewarded him for his efforts. She would follow him around her house, telling him what she wanted, pinpointing specifics, and giggling merrily at having a naked, younger man in her home. Occasionally, she would pinch his bum and giggle all the more. Despite Nikki’s best efforts to dissuade her, the kindly and jolly old lady always sneaked him a biscuit before he left to return to his far more austere life at Nikki’s. It was usually a custard cream or chocolate bourbon, the only food he got that was recognizably human, and he treasured it so much.
Adjusted to a clothed female, nude male life, as he waited, foofoo found the old dog-eared boiler suit Nikki permitted him to wear for the short walk between the houses and scratched unpleasantly at his skin in a way he remembered his wool school trousers did. He got to wear it whenever he left Nikki’s abode, rarely for long, and only on a few special occasions. Weekly to go next door to clean and do odd jobs for Mrs. Rozycki, or when he was transported in the trunk of Nikki’s car somewhere, like to the most honoured Mistress Tyler’s home, or his regular once-a-year annual health check, and a trip to the dentist.
Hearing a key turn in the lock, foofoo quickly straightened his back and looked up. The beta-line protocol he had to follow in Nikki’s home was not applicable at Mrs. Rozycki’s home, because Nikki had not wished to go into the related explicit specifics with her neighbour, deeming the old lady outside of the desires of his male gaze. His hands were placed upon his head, and the shaming-bells only just hushed, with foofoo looking directly forward when the back door opened.
“So, this is you,” an attractive forty-something woman dressed in skinny black jeans, Ugg boots, and a ribbed black top stated. “Nikki’s working, livestock or whatever strange thing it is that you are. Her Cinderfella.”
Startled, it was not Mrs. Rozycki at the door. Foofoo blinked rapidly and swallowed, hit with a familiar queasy feeling of shameful helplessness and extreme tension, unsure of the situation as he tried to make sense of what he was seeing and hearing. His face began to heat up immediately, and foofoo hardly helped himself when he found his eyes drawn to the Ugg boots, wondering what the insides smelled like. Grateful at least to be decently dressed, he stood like a lemon, at unease, that she had discussed him with Nikki! Combined, his thought processes brought his awkwardness with members of the opposite sex to the fore, overwhelming him. With a passing resemblance to Mrs. Rozycki, it dawned on him that this must be Mrs. Rozycki’s daughter, whom he’d seen in many a picture frame that he had dusted.
“I’m Andrea, my mother’s not very well. So, you’ll be working for me today. Seen and not heard, I hope.” Andrea informed, her arms crossed, while she looked him up and down. “Not that I can think of any reason why you’ll need to speak to me while you’re busy working, but if you do for some reason, you will address me as Ms. Rozycki. Understood?”
“Whmpr!” foofoo managed to squeak an answer, his face continuing to heat up by the second as his anxiety grew and grew. Feeling silly, he held his hands on his head; he resisted the urge to put them at his sides, trying his best not to think about the aroma inside her Uggs or wonder whether she wore socks, but failed. Too late, his cock had stirred, woken from its stasis.
“Good. Right, get your kit off then,” Andrea ordered dispassionately.
Flustered, not least by the growing enthusiasm of his cock, foofoo’s obedience drive kicked in, and he fumbled at the buttons, automatically acting upon the instruction. He was so accustomed to doing what Nikki and her friends told him to do that he didn’t for a second consider disobeying Andrea. She was a woman; it was what he did with women, obeyed. He loved being told what to do by women, always had done, he wanted to be found pleasing, he needed that female affirmation, it made him tick; so, although his nerves meant he was all fingers and thumbs, he nevertheless still felt a thrill as he got each button released and eventually let the boiler suit slip off his shoulders and fall around his ankles.
The thrill he got from the situation felt like his head might explode from his shameful embarrassment, as he resisted covering his chastity cage with his hands, instead returning them to his head as he stood bashfully naked before someone he’d only just met in his normal work attire. Nikki had foofoo go about his duties, serving and toiling, outfitted in his all-weather work uniform of chastity cage, neck collar, electric shock collar nestled behind his balls, belled nose ring through his septum, and a multitude of shaming bells secured to his wrists and ankles to ensure she knew where he was and that he was keeping busy. However, the familiarity of his nudity didn’t make new encounters any less embarrassing.
“Hand it over,” Andrea instructed firmly, holding out her hand.
Bashfully stepping forward and setting off his shaming bells, foofoo quickly crouched to gather up the discarded garment, stood, folded it into a square, and handed over his clothing.
Andrea grabbed the garment from him and threw it behind her, inside the house. “Right, hands back on your head, let’s have a look at you,” she instructed in her no-nonsense manner. “Give me a twirl.”
Blushing crimson, well-versed in being displayed by Nikki for her own amusement or in front of her friends, foofoo obeyed, turning slowly, to a louder, constant accompaniment of tinkles from the shaming bells attached around his wrists and ankles. He had masturbated many a time dreaming of being in situations just like this, being bossed about by a woman he didn’t know, with complete superiority over him and an imagined contempt of him as an inferior male of the species; so, he wasn’t surprised despite the qualms going on in his head, that hidden away in the tiny chastity cage Nikki adorned him with, his cock twitched wildly, already pressing hard against its confines. The swelling was minuscule, and it immediately encountered a familiar, firm resistance from the cage. Nikki had selected the cage with the goal of there being absolutely no room for arousal-derived growth, and she had been successful. Only on the coldest days, when he was put outside to work or under the cold water of his shower, could his cock swing loose in the cage.
“Ok, that’s enough. Stop and face me.” Andrea ordered curtly.
He obeyed, timidly, intimidated and immensely shamed by the situation.
“You’re a skinny runt, aren’t you. Lean like a runner.” Andrea commented. “Nice arse though. My Mum was right about that. Very spankable. But fuck me, I’ve never seen a guy with such beefy balls, balls bigger than your dick! Lol, how tragic for you. No wonder you do exactly what Nikki says. No wonder you’re here for that matter, doing exactly what I say!”
His tremors kept his shame bells ringing. Hearing Andrea follow up her observation with a hearty, and to his mind, filthy chuckle, foofoo found her amusement at the sight of him to be music to his ears, and his agitated cock only pushed harder, his situation both stimulating and scary in a good way.
“You know, I’ve never seen one of these cages in person, let alone on a person.” Andrea shared. “I didn’t think it would be so small or could be so small for that matter! You can’t have much of a package to speak of if it fits in that stunted, thin tube. Am I right?”
Dumbfounded by the direct questioning, in full fluster, lost for words, foofoo teetered on the brink of free-falling through subspace, and he liked it, he liked it a lot. For better or worse, this was his form of bliss. He had flashbacks to when he’d been introduced to each of Nikki’s friends, and those were some of the best times of his life, especially with Mistress Verity. Despite himself and the situation, foofoo sneaked another peek at Andrea’s Uggs, diving headfirst into subspace, relishing his flustered and aroused state in front of her. This was his bliss.
“Well, out with it, you tragic excuse for a man, I asked you a question!” Andrea prompted in irritation.
“You might well be kept as a near-mute working-livestock with a ring through your nose by Nikki, but when I ask you a direct question, you answer me!”
Hurriedly, foofoo coughed to clear his throat, and then, shrilly squealed out a submissive apology, “Sorry, Ms. Rozycki! Yes, foofoo’s cocklet does fit into the tiny cage, Ms. Rozycki, foofoo’s cocklet is extremely tiny, ridiculously so, because it serves no purpose beyond urination.”
“Cocklet, ha, I like that! And, you know what, I believe you, you’re shaking like a leaf! I have lipsticks bigger than your cage suggests you are, and my man, well, he’s bigger than you when he’s soft.”
Andrea shared. “Perhaps you should think about that while you do your chores today.”
“Whmpr!” emitted with glum acceptance, on the verge of being a snivel.
“Did Nikki tell you that?” Andrea asked. “That you are extremely tiny, ridiculously so, and that your penis serves no purpose beyond urination?”
“WHMPR!” confirmed the shame of Nikki requiring him, if and whenever asked, to have to describe his family jewels with such a humiliating description.
“And how do you feel about that?” Andrea probed. “Answer me honestly.”
“Ms. Rozycki, foofoo feels cheerless and ashamed about it, Ms. Rozycki, and foofoo misses masturbation dreadfully!” foofoo answered, his squeaking fluctuating as he held back a sob.
Stepping away from the door, she approached foofoo, eyeing him up. She walked around him three times, sizing him up, before returning to the door and leaning on the doorframe. Cocking her head to one side a little, she smiled and asked, with no sign of any compassion, “So, beyond your penis without a purpose, what’s the matter with you, for you to let Nikki lock your junk away in such a tiny penis prison, don’t you like sex?”
Warning heeded, foofoo promptly and shrilly declared, “Excuse foofoo, Ms. Rozycki, but foofoo has never had sex!”
Andrea looked at him for a moment and then, with a shake of her head, chuckled and replied, “Of course you haven’t… just looking at your demeanour, I should have known you’re a virgin. I’m sure it’s for the best, I guess size doesn’t matter when you wank.”
Trembling, shifting uneasily from barefoot to barefoot, foofoo experienced a renewed hot flush flow through his veins to take his head to boiling point. Within his chastity cage, his virgin cock throbbed with intense longing.
“Are you gay?”
“No, Ms. Rozycki foofoo is not gay,” foofoo squeaked out.
“I wonder, did you ever think you’d get laid?”
Shaming bells tinkled before foofoo. He answered, “Yes, Ms. Rozycki, foofoo did think he would get laid.” Spoken in a melancholy whisper as the hope of doing so resurfaced, his chin dipped down to his chest.
“Look up and speak up!” Andrea commanded. “I need to hear your answers to my questions.”
Finding his big boy voice, foofoo raised his head, took a deep breath to fill his lungs, and squeaked out his mortifying answer, more forcibly, “Yes, Ms. Rozycki, foofoo did think he would get laid.”
“Hope springs eternal and all that, I guess,” Andrea said with an accepting shrug. “Even for shrimp dicks like you. I think you’ve made a good call and done women a favour by sticking to being a fist fucker, you’d only ever have been a disappointment in bed. I mean, based on the size of your chastity cage, I have to say you were not built for sex, you’d be slipping out all the time, it would be really bad sex.”
“WHMPR!” conveyed with emotional dismay in response to Andrea’s statement. Clueless to what made sex good or bad, it wasn’t that foofoo hadn’t heard such things before; it was more that it was yet another woman telling him pretty much the same thing about something he really had no idea about, just dreams.
“So, when did you last cum?”
Emitting a deathly sigh at having to share the truth of his sex life, that his orgasms were few and far between, with watery eyes, at having to confess such a fact to a stranger; foofoo squeaked his forlorn answer, “Five hundred and seventy-six days ago Ms Rozycki, foofoo was permitted an orgasm event five hundred and seventy-six days ago Ms Rozycki.”
“Hell’s bells, that’s over a year!” Andrea exclaimed, the shock at the period clear on her face. Then, after a moment of doing the maths, a grin transformed her shocked look, and she laughed, “Heck, it’s over a year and a half! And Nikki hasn’t let you cum in all that time, ha, that’s too funny!”
Feeling utterly pathetic and introverted, foofoo just stood there, blushing, fighting not to emit a snivel and make things worse; as a woman he’d only just met, found great merriment in his chastity and denial.
“No wanton and furious wanking for you then!” Andrea managed through her giggles. “Let alone fucking. But from what Nikki was telling me, plenty of furious scrubbing and polishing! I guess getting stuck into that sort of thing helps take your mind off not seeing any action of any kind, right?”
“Whmpr!” foofoo expressed uneasily that he had been in conversation with his Mistress.
“Jeez, over a year and a half, I can’t wait to tell my man, he won’t believe it! He can hardly go more than a day or two without getting all frisky on me.” Andrea chuckled. “Anyway, enough of this chit-chat about the heartbreak that is your sex life, you’re here to do a job, and I’m keeping you from it, and in doing so, keeping you from taking your mind off your celibacy.”
“Now,” Andrea said, “I’m not really one for pets, and I don’t want you in the house so that you will be staying outside today. Weed the flowerbeds for my mother, she’ll like that for when she’s better. If you get thirsty, you can drink from the birdbath. I refreshed the water this morning. Nikki told me she was concerned you’re ‘running to fat’, so not to give you anything to eat. So, I won’t. However, I will be checking in on her about your dry spell. I have to say, I’m intrigued. Given what you’ve shared with me with regards to how long it is since you’ve cum, I don’t mind sharing with you, as Nikki’s working livestock, I’ve come over all unnecessary!
Shaming bells tinkled as foofoo resisted snivelling on hearing he wouldn’t be getting his weekly sweet treat. No biscuit this week and no sexual release in months, his was a life of going without. However, he couldn’t prevent himself from emitting a small snivel upon hearing Andrea’s amusement at his sexual frustration and the length of his denial period.
“But enough about me, this is about your service here today. So, once you’re done with weeding,” Andrea managed to detail despite the distraction of the unnecessary state she had confessed to. “I want all the reachable downstairs windows washed down, rinsed, and then polished spotless. This patio could do with a good scrub-down, and then, for the lawn, mow it, then edge the verges. That’s enough, I would think, to keep you busy, and lol keep your mind off the year and a half without a cum and keep you out of my hair. I have my Mum to look after, and some work to do, so I don’t need you distracting me any more than you already have. When you’re all done, you can knock and politely ask for your overalls back. I will inspect what you’ve done and decide whether to give them to you. Understood?”
“WHMPR!” foofoo responded in alarm at just how much work he’d been given.
“Carry on then,” Andrea dismissed him with a flick of her head. “Get to it. I’ll check on your progress from time to time.”
The End.
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