A Footslave forever Part 2
A Foot slave forever
“Yeah, start running,” said Becky but as I started to stand, she again put her hands firmly on my shoulders, pushed me back down, and said, “steers don’t walk on two legs stupid; they walk on all fours; now get crawling; we’ll give you a ten second head start…..one, two…”
These girls were strange; they weren’t even dressed like cowgirls. I immediately began crawling away from them as rapidly as I could, but as I looked around the yard I could see that there was no where to go. I just headed for the fence at the back of the yard. When I heard Becky count “ten” I looked around and saw them both walking toward me, each with a rope in her hand. I froze not knowing what to do or which way to go. The girls split up when they were about halfway to me, and Becky began making silly cowgirl sounds, “yippee ki yo ki yay,” “get along little doggie,” and stuff like that. Brigitte was laughing hysterically.
Their yard was not all nice grass; most of it was dry patches of dirt and gravel and it hurt my hands and knees when I crawled on it. When they were fairly close, I crawled as fast as I could in the general direction of Brigitte, figuring she was laughing so hard she might not be able to catch me.
As I made my break for freedom, both girls stopped walking and ran at me. I had no chance at all. Becky grabbed my hair and wrestled me to the ground. She pushed me over and sat on my chest. Brigitte tied my ankles together tightly and Becky stood and told me to roll over on my stomach. I did and she put her shoe on my head while Brigitte tied my hands behind my back. When done, she stood and put her shoe on my butt.
“That was pretty easy; maybe he’ll do better going back to the porch,” said Brigitte. Becky started toward the porch while Brigitte took a step up and stood, full weight, on my back. She drove my chest into the gravel. I could feel stones cutting me in a couple of different places. I didn’t say a word; I was scared they might really hurt me if I started complaining.
Becky came back with two belts and gave one to Brigitte. Brigitte cracked the belt on the ground right next to my head and I jumped.
“Now we’re going to drive the steer home, but we can’t untie him cause we don’t want him running away again. You’re going to have to crawl with your ankles and wrists tied all the way back,” said Becky.
“Yeah, and we’ll use our belts to keep you moving in the right direction, understand steer?” Brigitte asked.
I started to say, “Yes Mistress” when Becky hit me hard on the back with her belt. “Cows don’t talk, they moo; I want you mooing all the way back to that eye hook; understand?”
I just winced and said, “Moo.”
Brigitte stepped off my back and said, “Get along little doggie” and cracked my butt hard with her belt.
I began crawling. It’s pretty hard to move very fast, crawling on your belly with your ankles tied together and your wrists bound behind your back. The dirt and gravel sc****d my chest, belly, and legs, and the girls took turns slapping me with their belts. They hit all over, and I never knew where to expect the next sting.
I’d inch forward, mooing, and slap, my right shoulder would sting from Becky’s belt. I’d scramble forward, trying to move away and toward the porch, and slap, my butt would sting from Brigitte’s belt. I’d moo and my legs would be stung. My arms ached from being so tightly tied behind my back and from the belts that the girls kept using on me.
They took turns until the last five or six when they both began whipping me at the same time. My “moos” became shrieks of agony as I lurched toward the eye hook and, at last, touched it with my head.
The girls stopped hitting me and Brigitte bent down and tied the rope that had been left on the eye hook around my neck. My chest, belly, and legs burned from the dirt and gravel I had crawled through and the backs of my legs, butt, shoulders, arms, and back stung from the bite of their belts. I hurt bad and tears streamed down my cheeks as I lay in the dirt at their feet.
A Foot slave forever part 5
Brigitte sat on the top step of the porch while Becky bent down and untied my wrists. They had red grooves in them and new pain arrived as the blood came back to my aching hands.
Becky sat beside her sister and ordered, “Get up on your knees slave; you’re not a cow anymore.”
“Yes,” said Brigitte, “by our supreme blessing, we have changed you from a cow into a slave boy; thank us slave boy.”
I rose to my knees, although the rope around my neck wouldn’t let me rise completely, and thanked them, “Thank you Mistresses Brigitte and Becky for making me a slave boy.” My knees burnt from the weight of my kneeling body and the biting gravel.
Brigitte smiled down at me and said, “Now you will clean our feet; we got them dirty chasing you around the yard; take off my shoes,” and she extended her right foot towards me.
I slid off her brown penny loafer and looked at her dirty foot. It was filthy with sweat and dirt. I could see black jams between her toes. She raised her other shoe to my hands and I released her first foot and removed her second shoe. This foot was also grimy and smelled bad.
“How shall I clean your feet Mistress Brigitte?” I asked, hoping she would provide a hose or towel.
“With your lips and tongue slave” and she thrust her filthy foot into my face.
I sobbed and began to lick the grime from her toes. My tongue licked the black jams from between each pair of toes and I swallowed them. I licked her instep and up to and around her ankle. I lifted her foot and with her toes pressed to my forehead, I began licking her heel. I ran my tongue up the bottom of her grimy foot from her heel to her toes, swallowed, and did it again and again. I licked the bottom of each of her toes and swallowed every spec of dirt. Her foot was clean and moist with my saliva.
“Good job foot slave; now bow your head so that I can wipe my foot dry on your hair,” she ordered.
I lowered my head and she dried her foot in my hair. She then re-crossed her legs and presented the other filthy foot to my waiting tongue.
Again, I licked and cleaned every inch of her foot with my trembling tongue. I swallowed more dirt than I had in my entire life just from her feet. I came close to gagging thinking about all the toe jams that I obediently swallowed for her. She again wiped her foot dry in my hair and then ordered me to put her shoes back on for her.
As I did, Becky reached behind and pulled out a camera. She handed it to Brigitte and said, “Now it’s my turn foot face; first clean your mouth out” and she handed me a bowl of water. I stuck my face in the bowl and rinsed my mouth. When I lifted my head, she had crossed her legs and her sneaker was in my face.
I untied her sneaker and pulled it off her sweaty foot. Feet which have been sweating in sneakers carry a strong aroma and I cringed at the smell of her foot. She laughed and pushed her foot into my nose and mouth, “Smell good slave? Wait until you taste it.”
And taste it I did. I sucked each of her sweaty, dirty toes individually and all together. They tasted wonderful. I couldn’t believe that I was liking this, but I was. Brigitte took several pictures of Becky’s toes in my mouth and my lips and tongue on her feet.
She slid toes in and out of my mouth and seemed to love the feeling of total, or should I say, toe-tal, power she had over me. I gratefully licked the bottoms of her feet. I swallowed sweat, grime and more toe jams. My little dick was hard as a rock and she played with it with one foot while I licked her other foot. Finally, she dried her feet in my hair and made me put her shoes back on for her. I was trembling as I knelt before these two young Goddesses.
“Well, it’s been a fun afternoon,” said Brigitte, “We must do this again; you owe us the $10 we paid to Janice to buy you for the afternoon; we don’t pay to own you; you pay us for owning you and allowing you to lick our feet; we want the money soon slave!”
“Yes Mistress Brigitte,” I answered. I knew I could expect nothing but pain and humiliation from these girls and I had readily accepted my fate. In fact, I had learned to look forward to their use and abuse of me. Praise be to all superior females.
Becky untied the rope around my neck and told me to untie my own ankles and get dressed. I obeyed and the dirt on my body itched as I put my clothes back on. My face and hair were dirty and smelled like feet. After dressing, I knelt before the girls.
Brigitte reached behind her and pulled out a notebook and a pen and handed it down to me. She said, “I want you to write what I tell you to write and then you will sign it; Becky and I will be witnesses; do you understand slave boy?”
I told her that I understood and I wrote what she told me. This is what I wrote under the direction of Brigitte and Becky Katzen:
All girls are superior to me.
I am a slave to all girls.
I am a slave boy.
I am a slave to Mistress Brigitte Katzen and Mistress Becky Katzen.
I promise to obey my Mistresses for all the rest of my life.
I promise to serve my Mistresses for all the rest of my life.
I promise to amuse my Mistresses for all the rest of my life.
I promise to kiss the feet of any girl who commands me.
If I should break any of these promises I hereby authorize Mistress Brigitte and Mistress Becky Katzen to punish me in any and all ways that they wish.
I humbly thank Mistress Brigitte and Mistress Becky for allowing me to be their slave.
I humbly thank all girls for letting me be their slave boy.
I signed it and they both signed as witnesses and dated it.
They now had a signed admission of slavery as well as several polaroids. They owned me just as Patty and Janice did. Of course, all girls owned me. Not just them; not just their friends Roberta, Maureen, and Candy; all girls owned me.
“Let’s take him back; it’s a quarter to four already,” said Becky. The two girls led me back to Janice’s house. They didn’t use the rope this time but I had to walk behind them the whole way. About half way there, Becky had the idea of making me chant the rest of the way so I did. I followed and kept repeating, out loud, “I am your humble slave boy, supreme Mistress Becky; I am your humble slave boy supreme Mistress Brigitte” all the way home. No one passed to hear my chant. That would have been pretty embarrassing, but I had already been so embarrassed by all these girls that it might not have made any difference.
When we came in the yard, Janice was waiting and had Roberta with her. Brigitte and Becky led me right up to the other two girls and Becky turned and slapped my face. “You can shut up now slave boy,” she said. I just stood there and with my head bowed and my hands at my side; my cheek hurt from her cruel slap.
“Was he obedient?” asked Janice and both girls answered “Yes.” They said I had been a good steer and a good foot licker.
Janice looked at me and said, “You’re filthy boy; Mistress Roberta might not want to buy such a filthy slave.”
Roberta walked over to me and smiled as she grabbed my chin in her hand and tilted my head up to look at her. Her eyes looked right into my soul. She didn’t say a word; she just stared at me. I grew frightened and averted my eyes. She laughed and slapped me hard on the other cheek.
Janice walked up to me and put her hand in my pants; not all the way in, just her fingers over the edge. “Roberta has paid $5 and wants you to serve her in school for one day. She’ll pick the day and let you know the night before. You will be her slave that day and you will do everything she tells you to do; do you understand slave?”
I answered, “Yes Mistress Janice.”
Roberta just smiled and looked me up and down. “I’ll call you Larry and let you know what day you will serve me and what you should wear” and she laughed.
Janice released my pants and told me to go inside and clean myself up before supper. As I walked up the stairs to enter the house, Roberta slapped me hard on the butt and both girls laughed. I went inside still wondering what Roberta had meant by telling what I should wear.
A Foot Slave Forever part 6.
I went upstairs hoping Patty wasn’t around, and she wasn’t. I showered and changed clothes. My body was covered with nicks and sc****s and scratches on the front from crawling through Brigitte and Becky’s yard and my back had red marks, welts, from their belts. My body was sore and I hoped Mr. And Mrs. B wouldn’t notice the marks on me.
After cleaning up, I went to the girl’s bedroom and sat on the floor. I didn’t feel it was my place anymore to sit anywhere but the floor, at least in their room. I picked up one of Patty’s slippers and held it over my nose while I sniffed the aroma of her foot. I thought to myself, you truly have become a pervert. I didn’t like that thought, but I knew it was true. Now, of course, I know that my actions were not perverted. In fact, they are the correct behaviors for the male a****l. At the time, however, I felt pretty perverse.
I heard Mrs. B downstairs calling that supper was ready so I put Patty’s slipper back and headed down. Everyone else was already seated and I sat between Patty and Janice. Mr. B asked each of us what we had done all day and if we had fun. When it came to my turn, I wasn’t sure what to say. I sure couldn’t tell the complete truth. Both girls just looked at me and smirked as I described my day.
“I went over to Brigitte and Becky’s house and we played cowboys in their backyard,” I said.
Patty said, “If you went to their house you probably played cowgirls, not cowboys” and she giggled.
I agreed that was right and Mr. B asked what the difference was between “cowgirls” and “cowboys.” I said that in “cowgirls” the girls get to be the bosses. He asked, “Well, if they were the bosses, what were you?”
I answered that I had been the cattle and they had practiced roping me. Mr. And Mrs. B both seemed pretty surprised by this but didn’t ask any more questions.
After supper, I decided it would be best to stay away from upstairs so, I went right to the living room and plopped down right in front of the TV. Mr. B had the same idea and he and I watched the tube for about an hour before Janice came in.
“Come on Larry, don’t you want to play with Patty and me? You’re leaving tomorrow so this will be our last chance to have some fun. We’ll even let you pick the game,” she said.
Mr. B looked at me and said, “Boy that sounds like a pretty good deal if they’re going to let you pick the game; watch them though, they could be trying to trick you” and he chuckled to himself.
I followed Janice up the stairs to my den of slavery, the girl’s bedroom. When we entered, I saw that Patty was all ready for games. She had nothing on but a pink, see through negligee. No bra, no panties, just a flimsy pink cover that didn’t even extend to her knees. She looked fantastically sexy and I could feel the instant rise in my jeans.
“I want to be kissed,” she said, and motioned me toward her with her finger. “Take off all your clothes and kiss me on your knees.”
I began to undress and as I did Janice started hitting me with a riding crop. Where had she gotten a riding crop? It hurt when she hit my clothes but it really stung when she struck my bare flesh. It hurt like crazy when she hit one of the bruises made by Brigitte and Becky’s belts that afternoon. I pleaded with her to stop and, finally, when I was completely naked on my knees, she did.
Janice said, “You’ll feel more of this later.” As she held the crop in front of my face. She turned and left Patty and I alone in the bedroom.
Patty walked over to me and stood about an inch away. My face was at her belly and when I looked down I could see her hairy mound beneath the pink gown. When I looked up, I could see her cute little breasts under the pink gown; her nipples were erect. She had such a look of power on her face.
“Tell me and show me what you are Larry,” she said.
I immediately answered, “I am your slave Mistress Patty,” and I bowed down, and kissed each of her bare feet. As I rose back up on my knees, I looked up at her again and the look on her face was one of total power. She could do anything she wished to do with me and to me and she knew it.
“Do you worship me Larry? Will you do anything I tell you to do? Are you my complete and total slave for the rest of your life until I tell you to die?” she asked slowly and sensually.
I gazed up at her and answered, “Yes, Mistress Patty, I worship you; I’ll do anything you tell me to do, anything at all; I am your complete and total slave for the rest of my life; your slave until you tell me to die.”
She laughed and turned her back to me. “Lift my gown and worship my butt slave,” she commanded.
I didn’t hesitate to follow her command. She had such a power about her that I believe anyone would have obeyed her at that point. I touched my unworthy lips to her beautiful butt and began to kiss. My kisses became more and more passionate and I began licking in her crack. Farther and farther I stuck my tongue in and soon I could just taste her sacred hole. I pushed my face into her ass and began French kissing her butt hole again and again as she had taught me to do earlier.
She walked toward the bed while using one hand to hold my face to her butt. When she got there she bent over and her hole was wide to my worship. I licked and I licked and kissed, while she moaned and giggled, for a good fifteen minutes. Then she pushed me back and rolled over on her back and pointed to her pussy.
“Now worship my pussy, little butt face,” she ordered with a voice of commanding authority.
I knew that I was her little “butt face” and would do anything she said. I pushed my face between her legs and began kissing and licking; she came pretty quick because of all the butt licking I had done. I would have been happy to die right there on my knees between her legs. Even though I hadn’t come, she still hadn’t permitted that, I was full of joy for having pleased her, my owner and Mistress.
She lay on the bed, painting, and I slumped on the floor at her feet. Without being told to do anything I bowed down further and began kissing her feet and thanking her. “Thank you Mistress Patty for letting me please you; thank you for letting me be your slave,” I whispered.
As I paid homage to supreme Mistress Patty, Janice came back in the room. “Why Patty, what did you do to poor little Larry? He seems to be slobbering all over your feet,” laughed Janice.
Patty sat up on the edge on the bed while I continued to kiss her feet. “He started out as a butt face and now he’s become a foot face,” said Patty as she joined Janice in laughing about my devotion to her.
“I’m going to get dressed and watch a little tube; he’s all yours if you want him!” and so saying, Patty got up and headed for the bath with her robe and slippers.
I remained on my knees with my head bowed to the floor before the bed. Janice walked over and sat down in front of me. She rested one foot on my head and one on my back. She was wearing socks and saddle shoes and was fully dressed.
“It’s early and dad wants us to come down and play in the family room; we can watch some tube and snack. Go downstairs and get a bowl of popcorn, a glass of ice, and a coke for yourself and bring it up here; you better get dressed first, but don’t put on any underwear,” and she removed her shoes from my prostate body.
I got up on my knees and started to put on my pajama shirt and pants. I couldn’t imagine what she had in mind. Why did she want me to bring the snacks up here if we were going downstairs to watch TV with her father? I had no answer and simply obeyed.
When I got to the kitchen, Mrs. B was filling bowls with her own snack mix. She made this mix from wheat and rice chex, peanuts, pretzels, and some other stuff. I took a big glass from the cupboard and filled it with ice from the freezer, grabbed a coke from the refrigerator, and a bowl of Mrs. B’s snacks and headed back upstairs to Janice. She was now sitting at the chair at the little girl’s desk.
I came in, closed the door, and walked over to her carrying the munchies from the kitchen. I just stood there as she turned to face me.
“Get down on your knees slave,” she ordered and I immediately fell to my knees before her. I put the coke, glass, and bowl of snacks on the floor to the side and gazed at this girl who owned me.
“Patty’s spending the night at Maureen’s house so it’ll just be you and me tonight slave boy. I guess that’s why she used you so early. She said she and Maureen might call you later and talk to you on the phone. Maureen really liked it when you kissed her foot yesterday. You really like kissing feet don’t you slave boy?” she asked.
I had to admit it was true and I told her so, “Yes Mistress Janice, I really like kissing girl’s feet.”
She smiled and said, “Well then you better take my shoes and socks off if you’re going to kiss my feet” and she crossed her legs bringing her right shoe up to my face.
I untied the knot in her saddle shoe and loosened the laces. I held the heel and slid the shoe from her foot. Before I could put it down, she ordered, “Hold it to your nose and sniff the inside; my foot has been in there all day; it should smell pretty good to a foot pervert like you.”
I looked at her face as I held the shoe to my nose; she had such a wicked smile that I could feel myself melting under her powerful gaze. Her shoe smelled like sweaty feet. A week ago I would have been totally grossed out, but now I actually liked the gross aroma from her sweaty shoe.
After I had been sniffing for several minutes, she said, “Alright put it down little shoe sniffer and take my sock off.” As I put her shoe on the floor, she held her sock covered foot to my face and asked, “Does my sock smell good slave; would you like to eat it up?”
I didn’t answer. I just reached up and gently pulled the sock from her foot and put it on the floor by her shoe. Her bare foot was beautiful and she wiggled her toes under my nose. “Sniff, sniff Larry; sniff my toes, but only if you really are a foot pervert,” and she moved her toes away from my face.
I was hypnotized by her and I leaned forward and began to sniff her grimy toes. I was admitting that I was, indeed, a foot pervert but I didn’t care. That’s what I had become and when a girl put her foot in my face or offered to let me kiss it, I would melt before her and worship her feet. Janice knew it for sure now. She could see me, on my knees before her, sniffing her dirty foot, ready to do anything she commanded. She started snickering and pulled her foot away from my face and re-crossed her legs.
I was broken like a little dog about to eat a steak when it’s suddenly yanked away from him; out of his reach, perhaps, forever. I actually whined for an instant but tried to quickly recover. Her other saddle shoe was now in my face and I began to untie and loosen the laces. I slid it from her foot and looked up at her. She smiled and said, “Sniff the shoe, doggie.”
I pressed the shoe to my face and breathed in the aroma of her sweat. Her foot odor was not repulsive at all to me; in fact it was beginning to smell like perfume. She didn’t let me sniff for long and quickly ordered me to put the shoe down and remove her sock.
Again I placed her shoe on the floor, beside the other one, and gently pulled her sock from her foot. Her sock was moist with perspiration. Before I could put it down, she ordered, “If you really are a foot pervert and if you really want to be my little slave for the rest of your life, then put my sock in your mouth and suck it while you sniff my toes.”
Oh god, was she serious. What else would she make me do? I pushed the dirty sock into my mouth and began to suck on it while I leaned forward and sniffed her grimy toes.
While I degraded myself before her, she humiliated me further with her comments and her camera. “A foot pervert; that’s what you say you are; who would have guessed, my cousin Larry, had a fetish for my feet,” while she said this, she started taking pictures with her Polaroid.
“Look at the camera Larry,” she ordered. “No that’s not a very good picture; pull the sock out of your mouth so that just the toe part is in.” I did as she said and left the toe and most of the foot part of the sock in my mouth while the ankle part hung down my chin. She made me look at the camera while she took my picture with her sock hanging from my mouth. Then she reached down and turned the sock so that her name could be seen. Mrs. B put the girl’s names on their socks so that they wouldn’t get mixed up. The next picture showed me with Janice’s sock hanging from my mouth. Then she made me sniff her toes while the sock hung from my mouth and she snapped a couple more polaroids. “What a pervert; my friends are going to love this; we’ve all heard of foot perverts, but none of us thought we actually knew one; here hold this sign while you sniff my foot,” she ordered.
The sign said, “I AM A FOOT PERVERT” and I held it while she took several more pictures.
After this, she stopped and showed me the pictures as she un-crossed her legs and put both of her feet on the floor. Sure enough, that was me, on my knees, sniffing toes, although you couldn’t tell whose toes they were. The next pictures showed her sock hanging from my mouth with “Janice” clearly marked on it. Then I had the sock in my mouth and her toes pressed to my nose and finally all of that with me holding the “I AM A FOOT PERVERT” sign she made.
A Foot Slave Forever....the end!!!
“We better get downstairs,” she said, “but first, there’s one more little thing to do; bring that snack bowl closer.”
I did as she said and put the snack bowl on the floor before her. She immediately put her feet in the bowl and started rubbing them all over the snacks Mrs. B had made. Snacks spilled from the bowl as she dug her feet down to the snacks on the bottom. She gave every snack in the bowl a touch of her grimy feet and made me put the ones that had spilled on the floor back in the bowl.
“That should be real tasty for a foot pervert like you,” she said. “Now open your coke; I want you to pour it over my feet and let it drip off my toes into your glass.” She looked haughty as she said this.
I opened the coke and held the glass under her foot. She extended her toes into the glass and I slowly poured the soda over her dirty foot. It ran down her instep to her toes and into my glass like a beautiful waterfall. It ran down the sides and bottom of her foot to her toes and into my waiting glass. When the bottle of coke was about half empty, she made me stop while she switched feet. I poured the rest of the soda over her other foot and I saw bits of foot dirt and Mrs. B’s snacks join with the coke and drip into my glass.
When it was done, she made me dry both of her feet using a towel she had already brought from the bathroom. I was surprised and disappointed that she didn’t have me lick her feet clean, but I did as she ordered.
She stood up and began undressing, taking off her blouse, bra, skirt and panties. I just knelt there with my mouth open. She was young and beautiful. Her breasts were getting big and were very firm, her stomach was flat and milky white, her pussy was covered in hair and smelled sweet, her butt was round and firm and, as I knew from earlier experience, tasted like heaven. She pulled on pajama pants and a loose shirt and sat back down on the bed and pointed to the floor over by the closet.
She made me fetch her slippers and put them on for her and then we both went downstairs. She hadn’t let me kiss her feet and I wondered what she had in mind. I carried the foot-soiled bowl of snacks and the coke that had bathed her feet.
When we got to the family room her father and mother were already watching TV and munching. Janice took the last available seat and I put my things on the floor near her feet. She ordered me, “Be a good boy and go and get me a bowl of clean snacks” and she snickered, “and a coke from the kitchen Larry.”
Mr. B just went on watching the tube, as if he hadn’t heard a word and Mrs. B said, “Yes, be a good boy Larry.” What did she mean? Did she know what was going on? I thought not and that she was just repeating what she heard. I went to the kitchen and fetched for Janice.
When I got back, I put her stuff on the end table beside her and sat on the floor by my stuff at her feet. We all watched the show and I didn’t eat or drink any of my stuff. At the first commercial, Mrs. B asked, “What’s wrong Larry, aren’t you hungry; don’t you like those snacks?” She sounded a little hurt that I might not like the snacks she had made. Of course, she didn’t know that Janice had added her own flavoring to the snacks in my bowl.
Before I could say anything, Janice spoke up, “Geez mom, leave little Larry alone; he loves this kind of food; don’t you Larry?”
I answered, “Yes” and almost said, “Mistress Janice” but caught myself in time.
“Dig in Larry,” said Janice and she pushed the bowl closer to me with her slipper.
I began to eat the foot-flavored snacks. They really didn’t taste any different than snacks that hadn’t been rubbed by feet. Of course, they were in smaller pieces having been broken when blessed by her feet. I took a drink of the footbath coke too. Mrs. B seemed satisfied and Janice was loving it. She actually giggled as I ate and drank.
When the show started again, all eyes were back on the TV and I noticed, as I reached into my snack bowl, that Janice had slipped off her slippers and was resting one of her feet in my bowl. I looked up at her and found her staring down at me as she mouthed, “Eat slave.”
I obeyed and took bits of chex, pretzels, and peanuts that were touching her dirty foot. I fantasized that I was privileged to eat from the foot bowl of some great queen. I imagined that the food carried the flavor of her magnificent, royal feet. I sipped the coke that had splashed over those feet. I was eating as hard as a rock.
During commercials, Janice would remove her foot from my bowl. If anyone, besides me, had actually looked at her foot, they could have seen bits of snack stuck to it. Sometimes she would dip her toes into my coke glass and then wipe them on my shoulder near my face. I could see the droplets of coke clinging to the tops of her beautiful toes and wished I could lick them off for her.
I have no clear idea of what it was that we were supposed to be watching on TV. I could only watch and think of Janice’s feet.
After more than an hour of this, the phone rang and Mrs. B got up to answer it. She soon called, “Larry it’s for you; it’s Maureen.”
I got up and went to the phone in the kitchen and Mrs. B went back to the family room. “Hello,” I said.
“Is this Larry?” asked Maureen. Her voice was silky and she sounded super sexy.
I said, “Yes, this is Larry; is this Maureen?”
“Call me Mistress Maureen, you little dirt bag slave,” she answered, and I knew her and Patty had planned something. Patty was probably on another line at Maureen’s. No sooner did I think of that that Patty made her presence known.
“Tell Maureen how you gave me some French kisses on my butt,” said Patty.
I could hear both girl’s giggling and Maureen asked, “Did you slave?”
I whispered, “Yes, Mistress Maureen, I French kissed Mistress Patty’s butt.” I could feel my cheeks turn red as I admitted what I had done.
“Did you like it slave?” asked Patty. I hesitated not wanting to say anything but Maureen insisted, “well, slave boy answer; did you like to kiss Patty’s butt.” I answered that I had.
“Would you like to French kiss my butt too?” asked Maureen and I answered that I would.
“He licks pussy too,” said Patty and Maureen asked me if that was true and I, of course, answered that it was and that I liked French kissing girl’s butts and pussies and being a lowly slave.
They made me recite my humiliation over and over, while they laughed, snickered, and giggled. I had to say, “My name is Larry Ranson and I am a pervert; I long to kiss girl’s feet and lick girl’s butts; I wish I could be a lowly slave to all girls for the rest of my life; I know I am not worthy to kiss a girl’s foot or butt, but I beg all girls to let me lick their feet and butts; I will gladly give everything I own and be a slave forever….” And so on.
The conversation went on for close to a half an hour with them making me admit all the things I’d done and how much I liked it and how I wished I could do all those things with Maureen. They made me say that I’d even like to do all of those things with Margaret Jennings who was the fattest, ugliest, and least popular girl in the entire school.
“Would you like to kiss Margaret’s feet?” asked Maureen and I answered, “Yes Mistress Maureen, I would love to kiss Mistress Margaret’s feet.”
They were laughing like crazy and then paused. I could hear a whirring sound and suddenly my own voice came through the phone line saying, “Yes Mistress Maureen, I would gladly give my heart to you if you would step on my face,” and all the other things I had said. They had recorded the whole conversation.
Patty said, “See ya later slave,” and hung up.
Now they had a recording of me saying and admitting all this stuff to go along with the pictures, witnesses, and paper I had written for Brigitte and Becky. I was owned body and soul, heart and mind by these witches. I was branded a slave and would be one for as long as they wanted. I walked back to the family room in a daze.
Finally it was time to go to bed. I took my dirty dishes and Janice’s to the kitchen while she slipped into her slippers and went upstairs. Mrs. B came in with her and Mr. B’s dishes and chatted for a while. I was anxious to get upstairs to Janice.
“Larry, have you been feeling alright?” she asked, “You seem kind of lost tonight; the girls haven’t been picking on you have they?”
I told her that I was fine and that the girls had been wonderful to me. I told her I had a great weekend and would like to come back again sometime if that would be okay with her and Mr. B.
She just smiled and said she was glad I was all right and that they would see if we could arrange another weekend sometime in the future. I thought about leaving tomorrow when my parents were to come and pick me up and I wished I could stay forever. I left the kitchen and went up to Janice and Patty’s room.
When I came in, Janice was sitting on a pillow on the chair by the desk. It made her higher and probably more comfortable. I noticed that it was my pillow that she was sitting on. She was still dressed in her pajamas and slippers and had her legs crossed. Only a small light on the desk was on and the room was fairly dark.
“Close the door and remove all of your clothes,” she ordered and I immediately obeyed. I piled my pajama top and bottoms on the floor by the door.
“Get down on your knees and press your face to the floor; put your hands out in front of you and tell me that you worship and adore me as your supreme Goddess,” she ordered.
Again I obeyed. I knelt and bowed my head to the floor with my hands extended before me; I was in a kow tow position. I praised her, “I worship and adore you supreme Goddess Janice.”
“Crawl to me slave,” she commanded and I began to crawl toward her I noticed that she had the riding crop in her hand again. My body still had all the marks from the belting that Brigitte and Becky had given me that afternoon and the earlier cracks that Janice had given me with this crop. I knew that I’d better not displease her.
When I reached her, she uncrossed her legs and placed both slippered feet in front of me. With my face pressed to the floor, I could just see the tips of her pink slippers right in front of me. I heard the whisper of the riding crop as she brought it down hard on my butt. I yelped but not too loud. She hit me two more times in the same spot and I felt like I was on fire.
“I am superior to you Larry; you are my lowly slave; you are an inferior boy and I am a superior girl. Not all boys are as inferior as you; you are the lowest because you are a stinking foot pervert. You smell like feet. You eat food that has been touched by feet. You sniff shoes and grimy toes. You suck dirty socks. You’re as low as a human being can go and I intend to keep you there for the rest of your life. Do you understand slave?” she asked.
“Yes Mistress Janice.” I answered.
“And do you agree with everything I have said?” she asked.
Again I answered, “Yes Mistress Janice.” It was, after all, true. I was pretty low compared to other boys and certainly compared to girls and especially when compared to her and her sister Patty.
“Look at my feet slave,” she ordered and I raised my head to gaze at her slippers.
“Take my slippers off and kiss the bottom of each one before you put them away in the closet,” she ordered.
I did as she commanded and gently removed each pink slipper, kissed it on the bottom, and crawled over to the closet to place them where she wished. I then crawled back to her and knelt gazing at her grimy bare feet. I thought they were beautiful. I noticed that she was wearing a gold ring on the middle toe of her right foot and a silver ring on the middle toe of her left foot. The rings made her feet look even more enchanting and, somehow, mysterious. I was madly in love with my cousin’s feet.
“Would you like to kiss my feet slave?” she asked while bringing her right foot up and resting it on my shoulder.
“Oh yes Mistress Janice, I mean supreme Goddess Janice,” I stammered.
“Then beg me slave; beg to kiss my feet,” she ordered.
Oh how much my life had changed since Friday! I had never kissed a girl, let alone kissed her foot, and now on Sunday evening I was kneeling naked before my cousin Janice, begging her to let me kiss her dirty feet. Girls and women can twist your life inside out; they can make you into anything they wish and Patty and Janice molded me into the lowest form of human life. I begged to kiss her feet.
“Please let me kiss your feet Mistress Janice. I beg you to please let me kiss your beautiful feet. I know I am not worthy supreme Mistress, but I long with all my heart and soul to touch my unworthy lips to your superior feet. I will gladly serve you all of my life; I will be your devoted obedient slave forever if only you will permit me the honor of kissing your magnificent feet. Oh please, please supreme Goddess; please, I beg you, please let me kiss your feet,” I begged on and on.
While I begged, she would caress my face with her foot, hold her toes under my nose or brush the bottom of her foot over my pleading lips. She was driving me insane and my cock was hard as a rock. I gave her everything I had, my heart and soul, my body and mind; I promised anything and everything if only she would permit me to kiss her feet.
Finally, she stopped her teasing and granted permission, “You may kiss and lick my feet lowly slave.” I began kissing her foot with all the passion in the world. I kissed her feet like a drowning man might kiss dry land. She pushed the bottoms of her feet in my face and I kissed and licked every inch of her superior feet. She pushed her toes in my mouth and I sucked and licked every bit of grime from them and polished the nails with my tongue.
She ordered me to masturbate on one foot while I worshipped her other foot. I had never done this before but I pumped my dick while sucking her foot and I exploded in ecstasy all over the toes of her other foot. I was in heaven and she laughed, “You pervert; you foot freak; you got off while licking my toes; get down there and lick that crap off my foot.”
I was panting as I bowed low before her and licked my cum from her toes. I had never had an experience like this and I knew the final hook had been planted. I was tied to feet and slavery to females for the rest of my life. It wasn’t something to be dreaded; it was an honor and a privilege. After licking off the cum, I continued to kiss her foot and thank her. “Thank you Mistress Janice for letting me kiss your feet; thank you for letting me cum; thank you for letting me be your slave” and on and on.
She ordered, “Rise to your knees slave” and I stopped my worship of her feet and rose to kneel before my Queen. I saw that she held a necklace chain in her hands. She crossed her legs so that her right foot was before me and ordered, “Remove my toe ring and hand it to me slave.”
I touched her beautiful foot with my hands and removed the ring from her toe. I handed it to her and she recrossed her legs bringing the other foot before me. “Now this one slave,” she ordered. I touched that magnificent foot with my unworthy slave hands and removed the silver ring from her perfect toe. I handed it to her and she put both rings on the necklace chain.
“Bow your head and gaze at my feet slave,” she ordered as she uncrossed her legs and placed both feet on the floor in front of me. I lowered my head and gazed at the beautiful, superior feet I had been worshipping just a few minutes ago.
She leaned forward and put the necklace chain over my head and around my neck. She told me, “I wore these rings on my toes and you will now wear them around your neck; you will never, ever remove them; they are the symbols of your total slavery to me and your total devotion to my feet; you will kiss each ring every waking hour of the day, no matter where you are and no matter who is around, to show your worship of me and to remind you that you are inferior to my feet; you are my slave,” and she grabbed my hair and she pulled my face up to face her. “Do you agree with what I have said slave?” she demanded.
I agreed with all my heart, “Yes supreme Mistress Janice, I agree; I will wear your toe rings forever and I will kiss them every hour in devotion to your feet; thank you for letting me be your slave great Goddess,” and a tear actually rolled down my cheek. It was a tear of great joy and not pain. I had been totally enslaved and I felt full of joy at the prospect of serving her and other females forever.
Janice slept in the bed by herself and I slept on the floor with her slipper over my face. It took some time for me to get to sleep thinking about the wonderful things that had happened this weekend and of how my parents would pick me up tomorrow. I kissed Janice’s toe rings and wished that I could stay here, at her feet, forever.
The next morning I awoke before Janice. She lay in bed slumbering like the superior Queen that she was. I put on my pajamas and hurried downstairs. I poured a big glass of orange juice and made some toast and carried it back to her room to surprise her. I came in as quietly as I could so I wouldn’t disturb my supreme owner and knelt by her bed.
Almost immediately she opened her eyes and looked at me. I stammered, “I brought you some breakfast Mistress Janice.”
She sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed in front of me and looked very pleasantly surprised. “Good work slave,” she said, “Put the breakfast there and kiss my feet.”
I put the food on the stand she had pointed to and bowed down and began kissing her feet. What a pleasure it was to serve her, to see her smile with pleasure and amusement, to kiss her beautiful feet. I felt like the luckiest boy alive.
She swung her feet away from me and sat back on the bed while she sipped juice and ate the toast I had made for her. She ordered me to massage her feet while she dined and I quickly scooted around to the foot of the bed where I could reach her feet. I stroked and massaged them and couldn’t take my eyes off them. At one point, I looked up and saw her just staring at me. She must have thought, “What a fool I have found this weekend.” When she finished eating, she made me stop the foot massage and kneel by the side of the bed again. She told me what she wanted to wear that day and ordered me to lay it out for her while she went to the bathroom to take a shower. Then she left, I quickly went to her dresser and took out the blue panties, bra, and knee socks she wanted. I went to her closet and got the beige skirt, blue blouse, and white sneakers. I laid everything neatly on the bed after making it for her. I then knelt by the bed to wait for her return. I thought to myself what a good slave I was being and I hoped she would be pleased. I wanted more than anything else to please all of my Mistresses. They were so good to me. They let me kiss their superior feet. My whole mental outlook had changed and now I saw my slavery to these girls as being the greatest thing that could have happened to me and I planned to devote myself to their service forever.
When Janice walked back into the room I lowered my head to the floor and assumed the kow tow posture. She walked over to me and placed her foot on my head. “Good job slave,” she said, “now help me get dressed.”
She removed her foot from my head and I rose to my knees and removed her pajamas. What an honor it was to kneel before this Goddess and pull her panties from her beautiful butt. I reached up to her and unbuttoned her pajama top and slipped it from her shoulders. I folded her pajamas neatly and placed them on the bed. This Goddess was again naked and I couldn’t take my eyes off her.
On my knees, I held her panties for her while she stepped into them. I pulled them up and covered her gorgeous butt. I stood and held her bra for her while she slipped her arms through the holes and her breasts into the cups. I went behind her and fastened it for her. I held her blouse while she put her arms in and then I knelt to button it for her. I held her skirt while she stepped into it and fastened the clip. She sat on the bed and told me, “Because you have been a good and obedient slave, you may kiss each of my feet before you dress them.”
I thanked her with all my heart and bowed down and kissed each of her feet with total love and devotion. I then put one and then the other knee sock on her beautiful legs. I put her feet into her sneakers and tied each one as she rested her feet on my lap. She looked down at me and stroked my cheek with her hand and then held it in front of my mouth to kiss. I gratefully kissed her hand and again thanked her for letting me serve her.
I was madly in love with her and completely enslaved. Her letting me cum had been the final touch that chained my heart to her feet. I would do anything to please Mistress Janice.
She led me downstairs and we sat on the front porch the rest of the morning. She sat on the swing while I sat at her feet and read to her. I fetched lemonade when she wanted it and close to lunch time she let me remove her shoes and socks and massage her feet while telling her how beautiful she was and how I adored and worshipped her. I swore to serve as her eternal slave if she would permit me.
We were on the porch, when my parents pulled into the driveway and honked the horn. “Grab your bag Larry,” said my dad as he and my mom hustled inside to thank Mrs. B for watching me. My parents looked at me a little strangely when they saw me sitting on the porch floor with one of Janice’s feet in my lap, and the other being massaged by my hands, but I didn’t care. I was her’s!
“Slave, you may kiss each of my feet before you redress them; do it now Larry; do it now slave boy,” said Janice.
“Yes supreme Mistress Janice,” I answered and raised her foot to my lips and lovingly kissed it. I put her knee sock and sneaker on for her and then raised her other foot to my lips. I kissed her beautiful superior foot with all the love and devotion in my heart and then put her sock and shoe on for her.
She looked down at the slave at her feet. She owned me body and soul and she knew it! She ordered, “You better go get your stuff, your parents are waiting; don’t call me, I’ll call you when my feet are dirty again,” and she kicked me gently teasingly in the chest.
I got up and went inside to fetch my stuff. Janice stayed on the swing humming to herself. My parents and I said our good byes and thanks and left. I didn’t get to see Patty before leaving but, of course, I saw her on several other occasions. Janice was to own me as her slave for years to come and I served Roberta and other girls too. This first exposure to the Female Foot was the turning point of my life and the greatest, most important thing that has ever happened to me. If it hasn’t happened to you yet, I pray it will!