A Footslave's Conditions of Service
A Footslave’s Conditions of Service
He was kneeling, head humbly bowed, in front of the empty chair, awaiting his introduction to his new mistress.
He was, of course, naked – as befits a slave – apart from his black, leather slave shorts and the metal slave collar around his neck. The collar had the words ‘Property of Mistress Manjira’ engraved in it.
Apart from her name, the only other thing he knew about his new mistress, for she had literally purchased him at auction only 3 hours ago, was that she was a pretty, 23 year old girl of Indian origins. He knew her age because she had had to declare it to the auctioneer at purchase (nobody under the age of 21 was allowed to own a slave.) He knew she was pretty because he had indulged in some surreptitious glances at her smiling face from the auction block as she had been bidding for him – long, dark hair and deep, brown eyes – eyes that expressed supreme self-confidence and power; they were the eyes of a natural-born slaveowner who knew what she wanted and who always got what she wanted.
And she had clearly wanted him.
Just in case the newly purchased 45 year old male slave had been in any doubt as to his young mistress’s power over him, she had ordered him to be immediately collared and whipped at the auction house– twenty lashes, as a demonstration of her authority. And so, as he knelt in her bedroom, awaiting her arrival, his bare back was still stinging from the after effects of the whipping.
He had already learnt his first lesson – mistress Manjira, a 23 year-old slip of a girl though she may be, was not to be trifled with!
He heard the bedroom door open and the soft footsteps of his new mistress approaching him. He lowered his head even further so that his forehead was touching the carpet floor, and then saw mistress Manjira’s sneakered feet coming into view as she took up her seat in front of him.
She was dressed as she had been at the auction some 3 hours earlier – western clothes consisting of a white T shirt with some red letters printed on the front that he hadn’t quite been able to catch; black denim jeans turned up slightly at the hems to reveal their inner, grey lining; a pair of rather dusty and evidently well-worn, black, lace-up sneakers with two white stripes down the sides; and black, cotton ankle socks with two, thin, red stripes on the elasticated tops – socks which were now fully exposed to his view as her already turned up trouser hems had risen even further up her calves due to her seated position.
She was, in other words, dressed as any typical young woman-cum-student of 23, just as he was now dressed as a typical male slave of 45. And, as any typical young mistress of 23 would do when she had just acquired a new, personal slave, mistress Manjira was about to lay down the law to her new property – explain to him how things would be from now on. His conditions of service, if you like.
Mistress Manjira was well prepared. Her father’s lawyers had drawn up a legal slave-contract, which she had brought with her to read out to the new, whipped slave who was now kneeling humbly at her feet. She had also brought a bottle of soda with her, for she anticipated this might take some time and that she might get thirsty.
She didn’t, of course, care whether her slave was thirsty or not. Not that she was a cruel girl. Indeed, everyone said she had a heart of gold, and such a cheery disposition – gregarious; the life and soul of the party. It was just that a slave was a slave; why should she care if he was thirsty, hungry or uncomfortable. He was just a thing – there to serve her.
She cleared her throat, took a swig from her bottle of cool, refreshing soda, and eagerly began her induction lesson for her new slave:
‘My name is mistress Manjira and you are now my personal footslave.’
The middle-aged male slave was not stupid. He learnt fast. And he learnt a lot even just from that opening sentence.
He recognised, for example that his young mistress, whilst she spoke with quite a strong Indian accent, nevertheless spoke fluent English. He surmised, therefore, that whilst she had probably been born in India, to Indian parents, she had lived most of her life in Western Europe. That, of course, would also explain her western style clothing.
He also now knew that his status was to be that of mistress Manjira’s personal footslave – not her personal bodyslave; or domestic slave. But footslave. This too was important information for obvious reasons – for he knew it meant he would be living his life entirely on his hands and knees from now on so that he could serve the young woman’s feet and footwear. Footslaves, generally, were not permitted to walk upright because they had no need to. They needed to be constantly close to their mistresses’ feet – as, indeed, he was right now, on his knees with head bowed over the tops of her dusty, black and white sneakers.
He awaited a possible order to pay homage to his new mistress’s footwear by kissing her feet, but it was not forthcoming. Not yet, at any rate. Instead the young woman continued with her introductory speech as soon as she was confident her opening words had sunk in to his stupid, slave skull:
‘I am now going to read out to you your conditions of service. This is a legally binding contract that has been drawn up by my father’s lawyers, so you must pay close attention to everything I am about to say. Do you understand me, whipped slave?’
He noticed how her foot muscles flexed slightly as she asked him his first direct question, causing her black ankle socks to crease and fold slightly in front of his kneeling face.
‘Yes, mistress’.
What else could the slave say? His mistress had just reminded him, after all, that he had already been whipped on her say so. He didn’t want to be whipped again.
‘Good! Then I’ll begin.
Clause 1:
“The footslave is the personal property of the mistress and has no rights under the law.”
Well, that seemed simple and straightforward enough – even to a stupid male slave. Nevertheless, mistress Manjira, kind young woman that she was, felt the need to clarify matters further for her new slave:
‘What that basically means, whipped slave, is that I can do whatever I like to you whenever I like. You are completely in my power, and there is nothing that anyone can do to change that. I totally own you. Do you understand?’
Her voice sounded light and happy in spite of the gravity of her words. But why wouldn’t she be happy? She was, after all, a young woman with a new personal footslave; with a much older man who was now totally in her power.
‘Yes, mistress.’
The slave wasn’t saying much – but then he wasn’t required to say much. He was just a slave.
‘Good! Clause 2:
“The footslave shall be collared and whipped on induction, and shall thereafter be addressed by all free persons as “whipped slave”. The footslave shall wear only a pair of black, leather slave pants and his slave collar, marking him as the personal property of mistress Manjira…”
So that was why she kept referring to him as ‘whipped slave’. That was his new name! He hadn’t expected that. He had expected to be called ‘Footboy’ or ‘Sockboy’ or some such common footslave-nickname. However, he had to admit that ‘whipped slave’ was entirely appropriate – since he was a whipped slave, both literally and figuratively – kneeling submissively at his mistress’s feet with a series of red stripes down his bare back.
Clause 2 hadn’t finished, it seemed, as mistress Manjira continued:
“The footslave shall address his own mistress as “mistress Manjira” or “miss Manjira”; all other women as just “mistress” or “miss”, unless given permission by the female concerned to include her first name; and all free men as “sir” or “master”, unless given permission by the free man concerned to include his first name...”
The whipped slave realised that this was all about a ‘respect agenda’. From his humble perspective as a lowly footslave it all seemed perfectly reasonable. He was a slave, and had to demonstrate his respect for his superiors and betters in the manner in which he addressed them.
He just hoped his new mistress would forgive him his indiscretion of not addressing her properly as ‘mistress Manjira’ or ‘miss Manjira’ when he had earlier answered her questions. Now that he knew what the binding clause said, he would, of course comply with his mistress’s wishes, drawn up in conjunction with her father’s lawyers, in future.
But clause 2, dealing with the important subject of modes of address, still wasn’t over:
“The footslave may not refer to himself in the first person, but shall refer to himself in the third person as “this slave” or a variant thereof.”
Mistress Manjira thought that the slave might need some further guidance on this important point:
‘What that means, whipped slave, is that I don’t want to hear you use the word “I” or “me” because that would imply you were a valid person or an equal – which you are not. I will accept you referring to yourself as “this slave” and “it”, but you should really embellish your descriptions of yourself to properly reflect what you really are. For example, you should think of referring to yourself as “this dirty footslave” or “this pathetic, whipped footslave”, especially if we are in the company of others. I will also accept phrases such as “this dirty sock-sniffer” or “this filthy boot-licker”. Do you see what I’m getting at, whipped slave?’
The footslave knew exactly where his new mistress was coming from. What an intelligent and articulate young woman she was! Far superior and better-educated than he was. She clearly would want to show off her power over her slave in front of her friends, and what better way than to have the slave verbally, as well as physically, grovelling at her pretty, asian feet. He decided he should get in some immediate practice:
‘Yes, mistress Manjira, if it pleases you, mistress Manjira, this dirty, whipped footslave does indeed understand that it must be respectful of all its superior masters and mistresses at all times.’
Having been a slave for some 20 years the footslave was nothing if not well versed in humble slave-speak. He was confident that miss Manjira had nothing to worry about on that score.
So, it seemed, was she:
‘Good boy! Carry on like that and we’ll get along just fine!’
The footslave felt a warm glow inside. He couldn’t help momentarily admiring her soft brown ankle-skin above the red stripes at the top of her black ankle socks.
‘Clause 3:
“The footslave shall not speak unless spoken to. The only exceptions shall be as follows:
i) Prior to punishment the footslave may humbly beg for mercy;
ii) During punishment the footslave may moan and/or wail;
iii) Following punishment the footslave must thank and bless the mistress for correcting him;
iv) The footslave must speak up in order to protect his mistress from imminent danger, but shall, nevertheless, be subsequently punished for so doing.”
The footslave sensed the hand of miss Manjira’s father on that last point – anxious, no doubt, to ensure that his daughter is safe at all times whilst respecting her right to have a silent and obedient slave who is generally seen but not heard.
Miss Manjira herself was clearly slightly embarrassed at the inclusion of a clause that implied she might, at times, be vulnerable and require the protection of a dirty, low-life slave. She was a supremely self-assured young woman, confident in her ability to look after herself. Besides, her boyfriend, Pujal, would always take care of her!
Nevertheless she felt she had to clarify matters somewhat for the lowly foot-servant:
‘Basically you just need to keep quiet and obey everything I say, whipped slave. That way you won’t get hurt.’
This seemed fair enough to the footslave, not that it would have mattered one jot if he had thought it unfair.
‘Now, moving on to Clause 4,’ continued his new Indian mistress:
“The footslave shall eat only bread and drink only water – both to be rationed by the mistress as she sees fit.”
Again, there was nothing the footslave could reasonably object to in this. He needed some sort of sustenance – but only so that he could serve his mistress. For a slave, eating and drinking must never be a pleasure – only a necessity. A slave has too much work to do to be allowed to indulge himself on fine food and wine!
Mistress Manjira obviously also thought that clause 4 was self-evident and uncontroversial as she took another swig of her soda and quickly moved on:
‘Clause 5:
“The footslave may be punished in any way deemed fit by the mistress. Punishments may include, but are not restricted to, the following:
i) Beating with a cane across the footslave’s hands, back, buttocks or legs;
ii) Beating with a whip across the footslave’s back or shoulders;
iii) Withdrawal of bread and water rations;
iv) Fouling of bread and water rations by the mistress’s feet;
v) Confinement in the stocks or pillory;
vi) Sleep deprivation;
vii) Kissing and/or licking and/or sniffing of the mistress’s feet and/or footwear;
viii) Hard labour.”
Miss Manjira paused at this point as she knew this was quite a lot of important information for the slave to take in. In her experience the ‘punishment’ clause was always the one that was of most interest to the slave, and understandably so. After all, even male slaves have an instinct for self-preservation and the avoidance of pain and punishment. It was that instinct which generally kept them obedient and submissive – that, and their natural docility vis-Ã -vis superior women.
‘On sub-clause (iv), whipped slave – “Fouling of bread and water rations by the mistress’s feet” – what that means is that I might punish you by, for example, placing your daily ration of bread inside my sweaty sneakers whilst I’m wearing them, using them as an insole to keep my feet comfortable all day, and then forcing you to eat the bread that has been ‘flavoured’ with my footsweat and sock lint. But I shall only do this if you’re naughty – do you understand?’
‘Yes, mistress Manjira. Thank you, mistress Manjira. This dirty footslave is not worthy to taste the precious feminine sweat from your most beautiful feet.’
Miss Manjira laughed:
‘Ha! Ha! How do you know whether my feet are beautiful or not, whipped slave? You haven’t seen them yet – only my sneakers and socks! And besides, I’m afraid my feet do sweat a lot. I can assure you that you won’t like the taste of my sweat – or the smell!’
The footslave hoped his young mistress wasn’t offended by his implication that eating bread drenched in her footsweat would be an honour rather than a punishment. But it seemed she wasn’t as she merely took another drink from her bottle of soda and continued to read out the rest of Clause 5 on ‘Punishments’:
“The minimum punishment for insolence shall be 1 stroke of the cane or whip.
The minimum punishment for incompetence shall be 3 strokes of the cane or whip.
The minimum punishment for indolence shall be 5 strokes of the cane or whip.
The minimum punishment for disobedience shall be 12 strokes of the cane or whip.”
Again, there was nothing too controversial there. Indeed, the more they went on, the more impressed the new footslave was with the sheer reasonableness of his conditions of service. Miss Manjira appeared to be a kindly and merciful young mistress. He did not deserve her!
She belched slightly having taken another quick slug of her soda, before wiping her lips and continuing
‘Clause 6:
“The mistress can do no wrong. In the event that the mistress is found to be in breach of the criminal law, the footslave shall be sentenced and punished in her stead.”
This was a standard clause in all slave contracts, and required no comment from miss Manjira. All male slaves were effectively ‘whipping boys’ for their mistresses. It was the law. It was just the way it was.
Still, it was nice for mistress Manjira to be reminded that she was above the law.
‘Clause 7:
“The footslave shall remain on his hands and knees at his mistress’s feet at all times, and shall stare at the feet and/or footwear of his mistress at all times, unless specifically excused from so doing by his mistress.”’
This was obviously a key clause, relating as it did to the footslave’s expected behaviour, and mistress Manjira wanted to take some time to spell out exactly what it meant for the footslave:
‘What this means, whipped slave, is that you really have to concentrate on my feet and footwear when you’re kneeling at my feet as you are now. I have very clear rules about what I like my footslaves to focus on when they are down at my feet.
For example, I expect you always to concentrate on my shoes or boots if my socks are not visible. Say I was wearing my ankle boots, for example. I would expect you to stare at the sides of my boots – examining in detail any creases in the leather or scuff or dirt marks on the bottom of the boots. I may well be wearing socks inside my boots, and you would, of course, know whether I was or not because you would have put them on my feet earlier in the day. But if they are not visible you mustn’t think about them. You must concentrate on my outer footwear.
If, however, say the tops of my socks were just visible above the tops of my ankle boots, you would be permitted to raise your head slightly in order to stare at the material of my socks. You might, for example, be able to see the elasticated tops of the socks, and then I would expect you to concentrate your attention on any creases in the tops of the socks, or on any pieces of fluff or sock lint that may be attached to them. You should also be examining the pattern of the stitching.
Similarly, if I am wearing my sneakers and socks, as I am now, you would have to concentrate on the outside of my sneakers unless my socks are visible – like they are right now because I am sitting down. The golden rule is that as soon as you catch even a glimpse of my socks you must concentrate on them. That’s because my socks are even closer to my divine feet than my shoes are and, as my footslave, you are honoured to witness my inner footwear.
I should warn you that I have lots of socks – more than a hundred pairs – and I shall expect you to study and to familiarise yourself with each and every one of them! Tomorrow, you will be laying all of my socks out on the floor of my bedroom in neat rows, and will then be kissing each and every individual sock 700 times as a mark of respect. That’s 140,000 kisses in total – it will take you all day – but you will learn to admire and appreciate all my socks, whether I’m wearing them at the time or not.
I do also, of course, wear tights on occasions, and you will learn to worship them too. If I am wearing tights, either under my trousers or with a skirt, you may stare at them also – but only up as far as my ankle bone. I don’t want you drooling over my legs. You are my footslave. Not my legslave. Do you understand all this, whipped slave? Am I getting through to you?’
‘Yes mistress Manjira. God bless you, mistress Manjira’
The footslave did understand. Now they were getting down to the nitty-gritty – to his new mistress’s likes and dislikes; her preferences; her priorities – all of which, of course, now had to become his priorities.
She was clearly a ‘sock-girl’, fond of her socks, and so he began immediately to obey his mistress Manjira and seek to win her socks’ approval by staring humbly and respectfully at the black ankle socks with the red stripes at the top she was currently wearing as she continued with her lecture:
‘I love wearing my socks and sneakers so I don’t often go barefoot. But if I do, for example in the summer when I am barefoot in sandals, or if I’m dressed up in my traditional sari or salwar kameez with sandals on bare feet, you must stare at the leather straps of my sandals. Basically, you are only allowed to stare at my bare footflesh if my feet are literally bare – in other words with no footwear on them whatsoever. Am I making myself clear, whipped slave?’
‘Yes please, mistress Manjira. If it pleases you, mistress Manjira.’
He now realised that staring at a young woman’s socks as she spoke was not as boring as it might sound. As he concentrated his footslavish attention on her right sock he soon discovered that there was so much for a pathetic sockslave to humbly observe – the pattern of the tiny stitches in the cotton material, and the minute, almost imperceptible tear in one of the stitches near the top of her right sock; the various little creases and folds in the sock – ever changing as the mistress’s foot muscles repeatedly flex inside the sock, like, for example, when she is reaching over for her bottle of soda and her right foot, momentarily, is lifted a few centimetres off the ground, causing her black sock to crease significantly around her outer ankle.
And then there were the pretty, red stripes at the top – almost like warning lines, reminding him not to allow his gaze to stray up onto her brown, asian calf-flesh above the top of the sock. Thus far and no further, they seemed to warn!
This would be his life from now on – staring at and admiring an Indian girl’s socks. It was both humiliating and exhilarating at one and the same time.
‘Good. I’m glad we understand one another, whipped slave. Now we come on to your regular chores:
Clause 8:
“The Footslave’s regular duties shall include, but not be restricted to, the following:
i) Respectfully kissing the feet of the mistress when so ever the mistress presents her feet for kissing. The mistress may choose not to verbally command the slave to kiss her feet, but may signal her wish for this act of humble obeisance to be performed by merely extending her foot towards the kneeling footslave.”
Most of the time I won’t give you a verbal order to kiss my feet, whipped slave, but you’ll know when you are to kiss them by my posture and I may also click my fingers.’
The footslave, still humbly staring at mistress Manjira’s right sock, rather hoped she would click her fingers now, as he found himself longing to kiss the scuff-marked toes of her black sneakers with the white stripes running down the sides.
But it wasn’t to be. Miss Manjira continued to read out Clause 8 detailing his regular duties:
ii) Washing and/or licking clean the mistress’s bare feet;
iii) Audibly sniffing the mistress’s feet and/or footwear (shoes; socks etc);
iv) Putting on and taking off the mistress’s footwear (shoes; socks etc);
v) Massaging the mistress’s bare or socked feet with his hands and/or mouth;
vi) Full pedicures (toenail painting; clipping; filing; pumicing of hard skin etc);
vii) Washing the mistress’s dirty socks and/or tights by hand and/or mouth;
viii) Polishing the mistress’s dirty shoes and boots by hand and/or mouth;
ix) Sleeping at the foot of the mistress’s bed in order to ensure the warmth and comfort of the mistress’s feet throughout the night with his breath.”
The footslave felt he could sign up to all of this. Mistress Manjira was, after all, an attractive young woman, and serving her pretty feet and socks would be something of a privilege. He particularly liked the sub-clause about sleeping at the foot of her bed. It would be nice to know that even whilst he slept he would be providing a service for her with his slave breath.
‘Any questions on any of that, whipped slave?’
‘No thank you, mistress Manjira, if it so pleases you mistress Manjira.’ He now felt like he was addressing her sock, so focussed was he on the black cotton material that covered and protected her precious asian foot. He actually envied the sock!
‘Good! Let’s crack on then. We’re nearly done:
Clause 9:
“The footslave’s demeanour shall at all times be one of self-deprecation and humility. The footslave shall never display contentment, pleasure, joy, or laughter.”
He immediately realised that this could be the hardest clause of all to abide by. How could he not derive some pleasure from being at the feet of such a powerful and attractive young woman? Yet he fully understood the reason for the clause. Pleasure or joy etched on a slave’s features must be most unbecoming. A slave should be quietly miserable – not surly – but oppressed and miserable. He is, after all, entirely at the mercy of others, and is constantly on duty. As the previous clause had indicated, even when he was asleep his breath was required to warm the mistress’s feet in bed.
No, the clause was correct. Humility and resignation, or ‘self-deprecation’ as the legalese put it, was the only correct demeanour for a footslave. He would do his utmost to comply.
‘Clause 10:
“The footslave shall submit to others as directed by his mistress.”
Of course! Your point being?
The footslave was amazed that the lawyers had even felt it necessary to put such a clause into his contract of servitude.
Miss Manjira perhaps went some way to explaining why:
‘You will be introduced to my family and friends over the next few days, whipped slave, and God help you if you don’t afford each and every one of them the same respect you have to show to me. I shan’t require you to kiss the feet of my male friends and family members, but you will still kneel before them and obey any orders they may give to you.’
The footslave was relieved. He didn’t like the idea of having to kiss a man’s feet at all – there could be no possible comparison to kissing the feet of a beautiful young woman. Just look at her feet now! Even in their scruffy old black and white, lace-up sneakers and well-worn black ankle socks with the red stripes they looked fantastic – shapely, petite, soft and womanly. There could be no mistaking that the feet in front of him belonged to a beautiful asian goddess. He was truly privileged to be staring at an asian goddess’s ankle sock!
‘Clause 11:
“The footslave shall pander to his mistress’s every whim.’’
Yes! Next!
‘And finally, whipped slave, the last clause – clause no. 12:
“The mistress’s word is law, and the footslave shall obey his mistress at all times with humility and resignation – as befits a whipped footslave – until such time as the mistress chooses to dispense with his services.”
I need to explain exactly what that last bit means, whipped slave. If you are a good and obedient footslave to me I can see absolutely no reason why you could not remain as my slave for the rest of your natural life. You must be at least 20 years older than me so even when you are an old man I shall still be relatively young, and even when I’m married I shall still want to have a personal footslave to care for my feet and footwear.
However, if you displease me in any way I shan’t hesitate to get rid of you – sell you back to the auction house or whatever – and, given your age, this is probably your last chance to avoid the hard labour of the slave quarries. I mean, no disrespect intended, but you’re not exactly an attractive-looking slave, and I can’t imagine too many young women wanting an increasingly old-looking and decrepit personal footslave like you.'
Of course, mistress Manjira had intended every disrespect to the footslave, for no mistress could ever ‘respect’ her slave. But she was, at heart, quite genuinely, a nice girl – willing to take in this dirty slave as a personal footslave in spite of his rapidly advancing years providing he treated her with the respect and gratitude she deserved.
The footslave was acutely aware of the truth of mistress Manjira’s words, and of her generosity, and his heart leapt when the order he had been aching for at last came through:
‘You may now kiss my feet, whipped slave, by way of acknowledging your submission to me and your desire to abide by these conditions of service,’ and with that mistress Manjira extended her black-sneakered right foot directly under his slave nose.
He gratefully lowered his lips to the top of her outstretched sneaker-toe and audibly, but respectfully, kissed it. As he did so he observed how her black ankle sock flexed as a result of her delighted reaction to his act of lowly obeisance.
Yes, mistress Manjira had a new personal footslave whose conditions of service were probably amongst the most reasonable on the entire planet.
Her footslave actually wept with relief as he kissed the toe of her dirty sneaker.
The End.
He was kneeling, head humbly bowed, in front of the empty chair, awaiting his introduction to his new mistress.
He was, of course, naked – as befits a slave – apart from his black, leather slave shorts and the metal slave collar around his neck. The collar had the words ‘Property of Mistress Manjira’ engraved in it.
Apart from her name, the only other thing he knew about his new mistress, for she had literally purchased him at auction only 3 hours ago, was that she was a pretty, 23 year old girl of Indian origins. He knew her age because she had had to declare it to the auctioneer at purchase (nobody under the age of 21 was allowed to own a slave.) He knew she was pretty because he had indulged in some surreptitious glances at her smiling face from the auction block as she had been bidding for him – long, dark hair and deep, brown eyes – eyes that expressed supreme self-confidence and power; they were the eyes of a natural-born slaveowner who knew what she wanted and who always got what she wanted.
And she had clearly wanted him.
Just in case the newly purchased 45 year old male slave had been in any doubt as to his young mistress’s power over him, she had ordered him to be immediately collared and whipped at the auction house– twenty lashes, as a demonstration of her authority. And so, as he knelt in her bedroom, awaiting her arrival, his bare back was still stinging from the after effects of the whipping.
He had already learnt his first lesson – mistress Manjira, a 23 year-old slip of a girl though she may be, was not to be trifled with!
He heard the bedroom door open and the soft footsteps of his new mistress approaching him. He lowered his head even further so that his forehead was touching the carpet floor, and then saw mistress Manjira’s sneakered feet coming into view as she took up her seat in front of him.
She was dressed as she had been at the auction some 3 hours earlier – western clothes consisting of a white T shirt with some red letters printed on the front that he hadn’t quite been able to catch; black denim jeans turned up slightly at the hems to reveal their inner, grey lining; a pair of rather dusty and evidently well-worn, black, lace-up sneakers with two white stripes down the sides; and black, cotton ankle socks with two, thin, red stripes on the elasticated tops – socks which were now fully exposed to his view as her already turned up trouser hems had risen even further up her calves due to her seated position.
She was, in other words, dressed as any typical young woman-cum-student of 23, just as he was now dressed as a typical male slave of 45. And, as any typical young mistress of 23 would do when she had just acquired a new, personal slave, mistress Manjira was about to lay down the law to her new property – explain to him how things would be from now on. His conditions of service, if you like.
Mistress Manjira was well prepared. Her father’s lawyers had drawn up a legal slave-contract, which she had brought with her to read out to the new, whipped slave who was now kneeling humbly at her feet. She had also brought a bottle of soda with her, for she anticipated this might take some time and that she might get thirsty.
She didn’t, of course, care whether her slave was thirsty or not. Not that she was a cruel girl. Indeed, everyone said she had a heart of gold, and such a cheery disposition – gregarious; the life and soul of the party. It was just that a slave was a slave; why should she care if he was thirsty, hungry or uncomfortable. He was just a thing – there to serve her.
She cleared her throat, took a swig from her bottle of cool, refreshing soda, and eagerly began her induction lesson for her new slave:
‘My name is mistress Manjira and you are now my personal footslave.’
The middle-aged male slave was not stupid. He learnt fast. And he learnt a lot even just from that opening sentence.
He recognised, for example that his young mistress, whilst she spoke with quite a strong Indian accent, nevertheless spoke fluent English. He surmised, therefore, that whilst she had probably been born in India, to Indian parents, she had lived most of her life in Western Europe. That, of course, would also explain her western style clothing.
He also now knew that his status was to be that of mistress Manjira’s personal footslave – not her personal bodyslave; or domestic slave. But footslave. This too was important information for obvious reasons – for he knew it meant he would be living his life entirely on his hands and knees from now on so that he could serve the young woman’s feet and footwear. Footslaves, generally, were not permitted to walk upright because they had no need to. They needed to be constantly close to their mistresses’ feet – as, indeed, he was right now, on his knees with head bowed over the tops of her dusty, black and white sneakers.
He awaited a possible order to pay homage to his new mistress’s footwear by kissing her feet, but it was not forthcoming. Not yet, at any rate. Instead the young woman continued with her introductory speech as soon as she was confident her opening words had sunk in to his stupid, slave skull:
‘I am now going to read out to you your conditions of service. This is a legally binding contract that has been drawn up by my father’s lawyers, so you must pay close attention to everything I am about to say. Do you understand me, whipped slave?’
He noticed how her foot muscles flexed slightly as she asked him his first direct question, causing her black ankle socks to crease and fold slightly in front of his kneeling face.
‘Yes, mistress’.
What else could the slave say? His mistress had just reminded him, after all, that he had already been whipped on her say so. He didn’t want to be whipped again.
‘Good! Then I’ll begin.
Clause 1:
“The footslave is the personal property of the mistress and has no rights under the law.”
Well, that seemed simple and straightforward enough – even to a stupid male slave. Nevertheless, mistress Manjira, kind young woman that she was, felt the need to clarify matters further for her new slave:
‘What that basically means, whipped slave, is that I can do whatever I like to you whenever I like. You are completely in my power, and there is nothing that anyone can do to change that. I totally own you. Do you understand?’
Her voice sounded light and happy in spite of the gravity of her words. But why wouldn’t she be happy? She was, after all, a young woman with a new personal footslave; with a much older man who was now totally in her power.
‘Yes, mistress.’
The slave wasn’t saying much – but then he wasn’t required to say much. He was just a slave.
‘Good! Clause 2:
“The footslave shall be collared and whipped on induction, and shall thereafter be addressed by all free persons as “whipped slave”. The footslave shall wear only a pair of black, leather slave pants and his slave collar, marking him as the personal property of mistress Manjira…”
So that was why she kept referring to him as ‘whipped slave’. That was his new name! He hadn’t expected that. He had expected to be called ‘Footboy’ or ‘Sockboy’ or some such common footslave-nickname. However, he had to admit that ‘whipped slave’ was entirely appropriate – since he was a whipped slave, both literally and figuratively – kneeling submissively at his mistress’s feet with a series of red stripes down his bare back.
Clause 2 hadn’t finished, it seemed, as mistress Manjira continued:
“The footslave shall address his own mistress as “mistress Manjira” or “miss Manjira”; all other women as just “mistress” or “miss”, unless given permission by the female concerned to include her first name; and all free men as “sir” or “master”, unless given permission by the free man concerned to include his first name...”
The whipped slave realised that this was all about a ‘respect agenda’. From his humble perspective as a lowly footslave it all seemed perfectly reasonable. He was a slave, and had to demonstrate his respect for his superiors and betters in the manner in which he addressed them.
He just hoped his new mistress would forgive him his indiscretion of not addressing her properly as ‘mistress Manjira’ or ‘miss Manjira’ when he had earlier answered her questions. Now that he knew what the binding clause said, he would, of course comply with his mistress’s wishes, drawn up in conjunction with her father’s lawyers, in future.
But clause 2, dealing with the important subject of modes of address, still wasn’t over:
“The footslave may not refer to himself in the first person, but shall refer to himself in the third person as “this slave” or a variant thereof.”
Mistress Manjira thought that the slave might need some further guidance on this important point:
‘What that means, whipped slave, is that I don’t want to hear you use the word “I” or “me” because that would imply you were a valid person or an equal – which you are not. I will accept you referring to yourself as “this slave” and “it”, but you should really embellish your descriptions of yourself to properly reflect what you really are. For example, you should think of referring to yourself as “this dirty footslave” or “this pathetic, whipped footslave”, especially if we are in the company of others. I will also accept phrases such as “this dirty sock-sniffer” or “this filthy boot-licker”. Do you see what I’m getting at, whipped slave?’
The footslave knew exactly where his new mistress was coming from. What an intelligent and articulate young woman she was! Far superior and better-educated than he was. She clearly would want to show off her power over her slave in front of her friends, and what better way than to have the slave verbally, as well as physically, grovelling at her pretty, asian feet. He decided he should get in some immediate practice:
‘Yes, mistress Manjira, if it pleases you, mistress Manjira, this dirty, whipped footslave does indeed understand that it must be respectful of all its superior masters and mistresses at all times.’
Having been a slave for some 20 years the footslave was nothing if not well versed in humble slave-speak. He was confident that miss Manjira had nothing to worry about on that score.
So, it seemed, was she:
‘Good boy! Carry on like that and we’ll get along just fine!’
The footslave felt a warm glow inside. He couldn’t help momentarily admiring her soft brown ankle-skin above the red stripes at the top of her black ankle socks.
‘Clause 3:
“The footslave shall not speak unless spoken to. The only exceptions shall be as follows:
i) Prior to punishment the footslave may humbly beg for mercy;
ii) During punishment the footslave may moan and/or wail;
iii) Following punishment the footslave must thank and bless the mistress for correcting him;
iv) The footslave must speak up in order to protect his mistress from imminent danger, but shall, nevertheless, be subsequently punished for so doing.”
The footslave sensed the hand of miss Manjira’s father on that last point – anxious, no doubt, to ensure that his daughter is safe at all times whilst respecting her right to have a silent and obedient slave who is generally seen but not heard.
Miss Manjira herself was clearly slightly embarrassed at the inclusion of a clause that implied she might, at times, be vulnerable and require the protection of a dirty, low-life slave. She was a supremely self-assured young woman, confident in her ability to look after herself. Besides, her boyfriend, Pujal, would always take care of her!
Nevertheless she felt she had to clarify matters somewhat for the lowly foot-servant:
‘Basically you just need to keep quiet and obey everything I say, whipped slave. That way you won’t get hurt.’
This seemed fair enough to the footslave, not that it would have mattered one jot if he had thought it unfair.
‘Now, moving on to Clause 4,’ continued his new Indian mistress:
“The footslave shall eat only bread and drink only water – both to be rationed by the mistress as she sees fit.”
Again, there was nothing the footslave could reasonably object to in this. He needed some sort of sustenance – but only so that he could serve his mistress. For a slave, eating and drinking must never be a pleasure – only a necessity. A slave has too much work to do to be allowed to indulge himself on fine food and wine!
Mistress Manjira obviously also thought that clause 4 was self-evident and uncontroversial as she took another swig of her soda and quickly moved on:
‘Clause 5:
“The footslave may be punished in any way deemed fit by the mistress. Punishments may include, but are not restricted to, the following:
i) Beating with a cane across the footslave’s hands, back, buttocks or legs;
ii) Beating with a whip across the footslave’s back or shoulders;
iii) Withdrawal of bread and water rations;
iv) Fouling of bread and water rations by the mistress’s feet;
v) Confinement in the stocks or pillory;
vi) Sleep deprivation;
vii) Kissing and/or licking and/or sniffing of the mistress’s feet and/or footwear;
viii) Hard labour.”
Miss Manjira paused at this point as she knew this was quite a lot of important information for the slave to take in. In her experience the ‘punishment’ clause was always the one that was of most interest to the slave, and understandably so. After all, even male slaves have an instinct for self-preservation and the avoidance of pain and punishment. It was that instinct which generally kept them obedient and submissive – that, and their natural docility vis-Ã -vis superior women.
‘On sub-clause (iv), whipped slave – “Fouling of bread and water rations by the mistress’s feet” – what that means is that I might punish you by, for example, placing your daily ration of bread inside my sweaty sneakers whilst I’m wearing them, using them as an insole to keep my feet comfortable all day, and then forcing you to eat the bread that has been ‘flavoured’ with my footsweat and sock lint. But I shall only do this if you’re naughty – do you understand?’
‘Yes, mistress Manjira. Thank you, mistress Manjira. This dirty footslave is not worthy to taste the precious feminine sweat from your most beautiful feet.’
Miss Manjira laughed:
‘Ha! Ha! How do you know whether my feet are beautiful or not, whipped slave? You haven’t seen them yet – only my sneakers and socks! And besides, I’m afraid my feet do sweat a lot. I can assure you that you won’t like the taste of my sweat – or the smell!’
The footslave hoped his young mistress wasn’t offended by his implication that eating bread drenched in her footsweat would be an honour rather than a punishment. But it seemed she wasn’t as she merely took another drink from her bottle of soda and continued to read out the rest of Clause 5 on ‘Punishments’:
“The minimum punishment for insolence shall be 1 stroke of the cane or whip.
The minimum punishment for incompetence shall be 3 strokes of the cane or whip.
The minimum punishment for indolence shall be 5 strokes of the cane or whip.
The minimum punishment for disobedience shall be 12 strokes of the cane or whip.”
Again, there was nothing too controversial there. Indeed, the more they went on, the more impressed the new footslave was with the sheer reasonableness of his conditions of service. Miss Manjira appeared to be a kindly and merciful young mistress. He did not deserve her!
She belched slightly having taken another quick slug of her soda, before wiping her lips and continuing
‘Clause 6:
“The mistress can do no wrong. In the event that the mistress is found to be in breach of the criminal law, the footslave shall be sentenced and punished in her stead.”
This was a standard clause in all slave contracts, and required no comment from miss Manjira. All male slaves were effectively ‘whipping boys’ for their mistresses. It was the law. It was just the way it was.
Still, it was nice for mistress Manjira to be reminded that she was above the law.
‘Clause 7:
“The footslave shall remain on his hands and knees at his mistress’s feet at all times, and shall stare at the feet and/or footwear of his mistress at all times, unless specifically excused from so doing by his mistress.”’
This was obviously a key clause, relating as it did to the footslave’s expected behaviour, and mistress Manjira wanted to take some time to spell out exactly what it meant for the footslave:
‘What this means, whipped slave, is that you really have to concentrate on my feet and footwear when you’re kneeling at my feet as you are now. I have very clear rules about what I like my footslaves to focus on when they are down at my feet.
For example, I expect you always to concentrate on my shoes or boots if my socks are not visible. Say I was wearing my ankle boots, for example. I would expect you to stare at the sides of my boots – examining in detail any creases in the leather or scuff or dirt marks on the bottom of the boots. I may well be wearing socks inside my boots, and you would, of course, know whether I was or not because you would have put them on my feet earlier in the day. But if they are not visible you mustn’t think about them. You must concentrate on my outer footwear.
If, however, say the tops of my socks were just visible above the tops of my ankle boots, you would be permitted to raise your head slightly in order to stare at the material of my socks. You might, for example, be able to see the elasticated tops of the socks, and then I would expect you to concentrate your attention on any creases in the tops of the socks, or on any pieces of fluff or sock lint that may be attached to them. You should also be examining the pattern of the stitching.
Similarly, if I am wearing my sneakers and socks, as I am now, you would have to concentrate on the outside of my sneakers unless my socks are visible – like they are right now because I am sitting down. The golden rule is that as soon as you catch even a glimpse of my socks you must concentrate on them. That’s because my socks are even closer to my divine feet than my shoes are and, as my footslave, you are honoured to witness my inner footwear.
I should warn you that I have lots of socks – more than a hundred pairs – and I shall expect you to study and to familiarise yourself with each and every one of them! Tomorrow, you will be laying all of my socks out on the floor of my bedroom in neat rows, and will then be kissing each and every individual sock 700 times as a mark of respect. That’s 140,000 kisses in total – it will take you all day – but you will learn to admire and appreciate all my socks, whether I’m wearing them at the time or not.
I do also, of course, wear tights on occasions, and you will learn to worship them too. If I am wearing tights, either under my trousers or with a skirt, you may stare at them also – but only up as far as my ankle bone. I don’t want you drooling over my legs. You are my footslave. Not my legslave. Do you understand all this, whipped slave? Am I getting through to you?’
‘Yes mistress Manjira. God bless you, mistress Manjira’
The footslave did understand. Now they were getting down to the nitty-gritty – to his new mistress’s likes and dislikes; her preferences; her priorities – all of which, of course, now had to become his priorities.
She was clearly a ‘sock-girl’, fond of her socks, and so he began immediately to obey his mistress Manjira and seek to win her socks’ approval by staring humbly and respectfully at the black ankle socks with the red stripes at the top she was currently wearing as she continued with her lecture:
‘I love wearing my socks and sneakers so I don’t often go barefoot. But if I do, for example in the summer when I am barefoot in sandals, or if I’m dressed up in my traditional sari or salwar kameez with sandals on bare feet, you must stare at the leather straps of my sandals. Basically, you are only allowed to stare at my bare footflesh if my feet are literally bare – in other words with no footwear on them whatsoever. Am I making myself clear, whipped slave?’
‘Yes please, mistress Manjira. If it pleases you, mistress Manjira.’
He now realised that staring at a young woman’s socks as she spoke was not as boring as it might sound. As he concentrated his footslavish attention on her right sock he soon discovered that there was so much for a pathetic sockslave to humbly observe – the pattern of the tiny stitches in the cotton material, and the minute, almost imperceptible tear in one of the stitches near the top of her right sock; the various little creases and folds in the sock – ever changing as the mistress’s foot muscles repeatedly flex inside the sock, like, for example, when she is reaching over for her bottle of soda and her right foot, momentarily, is lifted a few centimetres off the ground, causing her black sock to crease significantly around her outer ankle.
And then there were the pretty, red stripes at the top – almost like warning lines, reminding him not to allow his gaze to stray up onto her brown, asian calf-flesh above the top of the sock. Thus far and no further, they seemed to warn!
This would be his life from now on – staring at and admiring an Indian girl’s socks. It was both humiliating and exhilarating at one and the same time.
‘Good. I’m glad we understand one another, whipped slave. Now we come on to your regular chores:
Clause 8:
“The Footslave’s regular duties shall include, but not be restricted to, the following:
i) Respectfully kissing the feet of the mistress when so ever the mistress presents her feet for kissing. The mistress may choose not to verbally command the slave to kiss her feet, but may signal her wish for this act of humble obeisance to be performed by merely extending her foot towards the kneeling footslave.”
Most of the time I won’t give you a verbal order to kiss my feet, whipped slave, but you’ll know when you are to kiss them by my posture and I may also click my fingers.’
The footslave, still humbly staring at mistress Manjira’s right sock, rather hoped she would click her fingers now, as he found himself longing to kiss the scuff-marked toes of her black sneakers with the white stripes running down the sides.
But it wasn’t to be. Miss Manjira continued to read out Clause 8 detailing his regular duties:
ii) Washing and/or licking clean the mistress’s bare feet;
iii) Audibly sniffing the mistress’s feet and/or footwear (shoes; socks etc);
iv) Putting on and taking off the mistress’s footwear (shoes; socks etc);
v) Massaging the mistress’s bare or socked feet with his hands and/or mouth;
vi) Full pedicures (toenail painting; clipping; filing; pumicing of hard skin etc);
vii) Washing the mistress’s dirty socks and/or tights by hand and/or mouth;
viii) Polishing the mistress’s dirty shoes and boots by hand and/or mouth;
ix) Sleeping at the foot of the mistress’s bed in order to ensure the warmth and comfort of the mistress’s feet throughout the night with his breath.”
The footslave felt he could sign up to all of this. Mistress Manjira was, after all, an attractive young woman, and serving her pretty feet and socks would be something of a privilege. He particularly liked the sub-clause about sleeping at the foot of her bed. It would be nice to know that even whilst he slept he would be providing a service for her with his slave breath.
‘Any questions on any of that, whipped slave?’
‘No thank you, mistress Manjira, if it so pleases you mistress Manjira.’ He now felt like he was addressing her sock, so focussed was he on the black cotton material that covered and protected her precious asian foot. He actually envied the sock!
‘Good! Let’s crack on then. We’re nearly done:
Clause 9:
“The footslave’s demeanour shall at all times be one of self-deprecation and humility. The footslave shall never display contentment, pleasure, joy, or laughter.”
He immediately realised that this could be the hardest clause of all to abide by. How could he not derive some pleasure from being at the feet of such a powerful and attractive young woman? Yet he fully understood the reason for the clause. Pleasure or joy etched on a slave’s features must be most unbecoming. A slave should be quietly miserable – not surly – but oppressed and miserable. He is, after all, entirely at the mercy of others, and is constantly on duty. As the previous clause had indicated, even when he was asleep his breath was required to warm the mistress’s feet in bed.
No, the clause was correct. Humility and resignation, or ‘self-deprecation’ as the legalese put it, was the only correct demeanour for a footslave. He would do his utmost to comply.
‘Clause 10:
“The footslave shall submit to others as directed by his mistress.”
Of course! Your point being?
The footslave was amazed that the lawyers had even felt it necessary to put such a clause into his contract of servitude.
Miss Manjira perhaps went some way to explaining why:
‘You will be introduced to my family and friends over the next few days, whipped slave, and God help you if you don’t afford each and every one of them the same respect you have to show to me. I shan’t require you to kiss the feet of my male friends and family members, but you will still kneel before them and obey any orders they may give to you.’
The footslave was relieved. He didn’t like the idea of having to kiss a man’s feet at all – there could be no possible comparison to kissing the feet of a beautiful young woman. Just look at her feet now! Even in their scruffy old black and white, lace-up sneakers and well-worn black ankle socks with the red stripes they looked fantastic – shapely, petite, soft and womanly. There could be no mistaking that the feet in front of him belonged to a beautiful asian goddess. He was truly privileged to be staring at an asian goddess’s ankle sock!
‘Clause 11:
“The footslave shall pander to his mistress’s every whim.’’
Yes! Next!
‘And finally, whipped slave, the last clause – clause no. 12:
“The mistress’s word is law, and the footslave shall obey his mistress at all times with humility and resignation – as befits a whipped footslave – until such time as the mistress chooses to dispense with his services.”
I need to explain exactly what that last bit means, whipped slave. If you are a good and obedient footslave to me I can see absolutely no reason why you could not remain as my slave for the rest of your natural life. You must be at least 20 years older than me so even when you are an old man I shall still be relatively young, and even when I’m married I shall still want to have a personal footslave to care for my feet and footwear.
However, if you displease me in any way I shan’t hesitate to get rid of you – sell you back to the auction house or whatever – and, given your age, this is probably your last chance to avoid the hard labour of the slave quarries. I mean, no disrespect intended, but you’re not exactly an attractive-looking slave, and I can’t imagine too many young women wanting an increasingly old-looking and decrepit personal footslave like you.'
Of course, mistress Manjira had intended every disrespect to the footslave, for no mistress could ever ‘respect’ her slave. But she was, at heart, quite genuinely, a nice girl – willing to take in this dirty slave as a personal footslave in spite of his rapidly advancing years providing he treated her with the respect and gratitude she deserved.
The footslave was acutely aware of the truth of mistress Manjira’s words, and of her generosity, and his heart leapt when the order he had been aching for at last came through:
‘You may now kiss my feet, whipped slave, by way of acknowledging your submission to me and your desire to abide by these conditions of service,’ and with that mistress Manjira extended her black-sneakered right foot directly under his slave nose.
He gratefully lowered his lips to the top of her outstretched sneaker-toe and audibly, but respectfully, kissed it. As he did so he observed how her black ankle sock flexed as a result of her delighted reaction to his act of lowly obeisance.
Yes, mistress Manjira had a new personal footslave whose conditions of service were probably amongst the most reasonable on the entire planet.
Her footslave actually wept with relief as he kissed the toe of her dirty sneaker.
The End.
