## Chapter 7: The Black Tights

Kieran stood in the dimly lit hallway, the list of tasks scribbled in Ellie's neat handwriting still clutched in his hand. He had completed all of them, from polishing her black boots to ironing her favorite dress. As he entered the living room, he was immediately struck by Ellie's appearance. She was lounging on the couch, her black tights-clad legs stretched out before her like a queen surveying her kingdom. Ellie's outfit had changed over the past few days, becoming increasingly provocative. The black tights were a staple of her new wardrobe, and Kieran couldn't help but feel a sense of unease whenever he saw her in them. It was as if she was trying to assert her dominance over him, to remind him of his place in their twisted game of power dynamics. "Ellie, you look...great," Kieran said, trying to sound sincere. He had learned that it was essential to acknowledge Ellie's fashion sense, no matter how ridiculous he thought it was. Ellie smiled, her eyes glinting with amusement. "Thank you, Kieran," she said, her voice dripping with condescension. "I'm glad you appreciate my sense of style. Now, come here and help me with my hair." Kieran walked over to Ellie, his heart sinking as he realized what was expected of him. He had become her personal servant, and that included tasks he never could have imagined doing before. As he began to style Ellie's hair, he couldn't help but think about how much his life had changed. He used to be the one in control, the one who made the decisions. But now, he was nothing more than a servant, a foot slave to Ellie's every whim. Ellie's hair was long and silky, and Kieran found himself getting tangled in it as he tried to style it. Ellie laughed, a cold, mirthless sound, and pushed him away. "Not like that, Kieran," she said, her voice firm. "You're not even trying. Do it again, and this time, do it right." Kieran felt a surge of resentment, but he bit it back. He knew that showing any sign of defiance would only make Ellie angrier, and he didn't want to face her wrath. He took a deep breath and began again, his hands moving slowly and deliberately as he styled Ellie's hair. As he worked, Kieran couldn't help but notice the way Ellie's black tights seemed to shimmer in the light. They were a symbol of her power over him, a reminder of his place in their twisted game. He felt a pang of humiliation, but he pushed it aside, focusing on the task at hand. When he finished styling Ellie's hair, she stood up, her eyes gleaming with satisfaction. "You can do better than that, Kieran," she said, her voice dripping with disdain. "But for now, it's acceptable. You may go." Kieran breathed a sigh of relief as he walked away from Ellie, but he knew that he wasn't off the hook yet. Ellie had one more task for him, and he had a feeling that it was going to be humiliating. He followed her to her room, his heart pounding in his chest. As he entered the room, he saw Ellie sitting on her throne-like armchair, her black tights-clad legs stretched out before her. "Kieran, I want you to get down on your knees and tell me how beautiful I look," she said, her voice firm and commanding. Kieran felt a surge of humiliation, but he knew better than to resist. He got down on his knees, his head bowed in submission. "You look beautiful, Ellie," he said, trying to sound sincere. "The black tights really bring out the color in your eyes." Ellie smiled, her eyes glinting with amusement. "Thank you, Kieran," she said, her voice dripping with condescension. "I'm glad you appreciate my sense of style. Now, I want you to kiss my feet." Kieran felt a wave of humiliation wash over him, but he knew he had no choice. He leaned forward, his lips brushing against Ellie's feet. It was a degrading, humiliating task, but he knew he had to do it. As he kissed Ellie's feet, he couldn't help but wonder how much further she would push him, and whether he would be able to survive her cruelty.