In this powerful femdom servitude testimonial, a submissive shares their deeply personal experience of serving Mistress Rose, highlighting the joy of obedience and devotion.
I had been in contact with Mistress Rose through slave-selection.com for some time. Our conversations were sporadic, with messages exchanged on WhatsApp, sometimes with long gaps of several months. Despite the intervals, I always made an effort to stay updated, checking in occasionally to see how she was doing. Yesterday, she told me she’d had a particularly rough week and was feeling exhausted. In a playful tone, she messaged, “Wanna come clean my place? Lol, feeling lazy today.”
Without hesitation, I replied that I’d be more than happy to help. We continued chatting for a bit, discussing our week, and then she wrote, “If you’re motivated, come over.”
After finishing my walk with the dog, I quickly gathered a few cleaning supplies—cloths, cleaning products, and a large roll of paper towels—and packed them into a bag. I also took my chastity cage, but not the keys. After a drive of about thirty kilometers, I arrived at her place around 3:30 PM and let her know I was there. She gave me the code to the door, and I entered. Mistress Rose greeted me, relaxed in her bathrobe, seated on the couch. She beckoned me to join her, and we chatted briefly. Her presence was calm yet commanding, and I found myself immediately focused on serving her.
At one point, she rested her hand on my pants, touching my chastity cage through the fabric, and instructed me to undress. Without hesitation, I obeyed. “Start with the dishes,” she said. I got right to work, picking up a plate and some cutlery from the coffee table beside her. As I began, she closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep. I was determined to do my best, ensuring every detail was taken care of. The sink was piled high with dishes, and several pots were waiting to be scrubbed. Once I had finished with those, I moved on to folding laundry and wiping down the baseboards.
When Mistress Rose woke up briefly, I asked her where I could find the bucket and mop. She pointed me in the right direction before retreating to her bedroom for more rest. I continued cleaning diligently, mopping the floors, dusting all the baseboards, the tops of the doors, and even the fridge. I took extra care to scrub the shower stall as well. Around 8:30 PM, she woke up again and went to take a shower. I asked if I could vacuum the hallway and her bedroom, which she approved, and I did so while she was in the shower.
When she returned, still in her bathrobe, she instructed me to kiss her feet. I knelt before her and kissed them thoroughly, cherishing the privilege of being at her service. She then sat on her bed and commanded me to lick her. I complied without hesitation, focused solely on her pleasure. She climaxed, picked up her phone, and, with her usual calm authority, told me it was time to leave. I gathered my things, and she opened the door for me. Before I left, she instructed me to message her once I was safely home, which I did.
What struck me most about the experience was that, unlike what I might have expected, I didn’t feel any excitement in a traditional sense. My mind was entirely focused on her needs, her pleasure, and her commands. There wasn’t a moment where I thought about myself. The only feelings I recall were the deep joy and satisfaction of being able to please her, to serve her fully, and to obey her without question.
