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Wash his car Pt. 4 Of course, you did end up washing the car. Often. Whenever the bull demanded it, you washed his car. It became a regular part of your routine. You started with a thorough rinse, making sure to get all the loose dirt off. Then you'd carefully soap it down with a soft sponge, working in small circles to avoid scratching the paint. You paid special attention to the wheels, scrubbing away every speck of brake dust because you knew he’d check. After another rinse, you’d dry it with a clean microfiber cloth until it gleamed under the sun. Inside, you’d vacuum every crumb from the floor mats and wipe down the dashboard and console until they shined. You made sure there wasn't a single fingerprint on the windows. All this effort while you knew he was on your bed fucking your wife. It was never just about cleaning a car; it was your role now. Your contribution to their arrangement. A constant reminder that while he satisfied your wife in ways you never could, your purpose was to serve him in whatever way he saw fit. And washing his car was just one of those ways.