You, Me & Mistress Julie
So you want to know what it’s like to be a beautiful young woman’s personal footslave in the Gynarchy of Barbaria?
Well, you are welcome to accompany me as I serve my mistress Julie throughout the day. I’ve already asked her if you can ‘shadow’ me today, and she has kindly agreed that you can – although she doesn’t want to be bothered or disturbed by your presence at her feet in any way. So long as you remain to all intents and purposes invisible she is content for you to observe my work at her feet, so that you can get a taste of what life is really like as a full-time personal footslave.
You join us at the breakfast table as mistress Julie is enjoying her cooked breakfast. Your place is down on the floor with me – kneeling at mistress Julie’s feet under the kitchen table.
As you can see, my mistress Julie is a slim, attractive 28 year old strawberry-blonde, with her hair fetchingly tied back in a ponytail. She is already fully dressed in her office wear as today is a normal working day, and she will soon be heading off to her office in the city. She is therefore wearing a smart navy-blue, pinstriped trouser suit over a crisp, frilly white blouse.
More importantly, as you can also see – now that you are kneeling beside me at mistress Julie’s feet under the table – she is wearing a smart pair of block-heeled, round-toed, black leather, zip-up ankle boots beneath her boot-cut, navy blue, pinstriped trouser legs.
Because she is currently seated at the kitchen table with both her ankle-booted feet resting on the ground, what you can’t see are her socks inside her boots – but I can tell you that she is wearing a beautiful pair of plain, black ankle-socks with a pink trim inside those smart, black leather office-boots.
I know what type of socks she is wearing because I had to put them on my mistress Julie’s feet earlier this morning – just after she had showered and dressed. I put her socks and her boots on for her this morning – just as I must do every morning of the working day. It’s one of the more mundane parts of my daily footslave routine but, pathetically, I enjoy doing it.
I enjoy doing it because I know that my mistress Julie is perfectly capable of putting on her own boots and socks should she so wish to, but that she has me do it in order to humiliate me and degrade me – and to emphasise my lowly position as her total foot-servant.
What’s that? You wish you could have watched me putting her socks and boots on her beautiful, bare feet this morning, or even have assisted me in the process? Well, you should have got here earlier, then, shouldn’t you? Ha! Ha!
You are right in your presumption about one thing though – my mistress Julie’s feet and ankles – in common with the rest of her 28 year old body – are indeed shapely and beautiful. I can tell you that they are very pale and soft too! I think you would be truly enthralled by the sight of her bare feet. But sadly for you, you won’t be seeing them – not for a while anyway! Not until she gets home from work later this evening when she might – might – order us to massage her tired and sweaty, bare feet, if we’re lucky!
No, for the meantime all you will be seeing are the outsides of her boots and, if you are very lucky, the occasional glimpse of the pink and black, elasticated tops of her pretty, ankle-length bootsocks inside her zip-up boots as she goes about her daily business in her office.
For now, however, her precious pink and black socks are frustratingly hidden from view by the flared hems of her pinstriped trouser-legs – so I suggest you concentrate on the outsides of her ankle-boots and get to know them instead.
What’s that? The smell of mistress Julie’s hot breakfast is making you hungry? Well tough! Again, you should have got here earlier. I’ve already eaten my one slave meal of the day – my bowl of slave-mush. We won’t be fed again today, so you’ll just have to try to ignore your hunger pangs!
Can I suggest you instead focus all your attention on your new mistress’s outer footwear, and try to inbreathe through your nose the smell of her black, leather ankle-boots? Specifically, you must focus your eyes on the creases in the black leather of her boots. You can concentrate on her left boot, if you like, whilst I concentrate on her right. Believe me, it will help you to forget your hunger if you concentrate your mind on her attractive, feminine footwear. Observe the way the black leather creases and folds with the subconscious movements of mistress Julie’s foot muscles inside her boot.
So do you like those tiny little boot-creases? I do. I love looking at them, for they remind me that my mistress Julie has worn these boots many times before. They are now fully moulded to the contours of her feet – hence the creases in the leather. And those selfsame tiny creases are very much the humble footslave’s friend, for they accumulate dust and dirt from the street, and we like the humbling sight and taste of street dirt on our mistress’s boots – though, as you can see, her boots are presently quite clean and shiny.
That’s because I tongue-shined them for two whole hours last night. I have to tongue-shine them for two hours each and every night. It’s just one of my daily, humiliating chores – and one I must complete before I go to sleep. It’s not, however, as you might think, the final chore every day; the final chore is always mouth-washing my mistress Julie’s dirty socks, which I do by soaking them inside my slave-mouth every night whilst I am sleeping.
Mistress Julie is very clever – she says that having her dirty socks soaking inside my mouth overnight also stops me from snoring, and that’s important since I have to repose every night on my hands and knees at the foot of her bed, so it’s important that I don’t keep her awake with my snoring.
In the winter, she also uses my face as a hot water bottle for her bare, unwashed, overnight feet underneath the end of her duvet, but during the summertime she prefers to sleep with her feet resting directly in front of my face, rather than on it. It still means that her unwashed bare, pale white feet are the last thing I see at night and the first thing I see every morning when I wake up in my uncomfortable kneeling position at the foot of her bed – with, of course, her dirty socks still in my mouth, although most of the stale footsweat from the day before will have soaked out of my mistress’s socks by the morning and will have slid down my slave throat and into my slave stomach.
Where it belongs!
But I digress, and I can see that I’m just making you jealous! You won’t be spending the night at mistress Julie’s feet as part of your shadowing arrangements – just the daytime. So let’s make the most of what time you do have in her foot-service.
As I said – concentrate on the outside of her left boot – the one now resting directly in front of your face, and admire the tiny movements in her boot leather as my mistress enjoys her nourishing and wholesome cooked breakfast seated imperiously above you. Think about how mistress Julie is your better; about how you are totally in her power; about how even her black, leather ankle boot is better than you, for it is closer to her sock and hence her bare foot than you are.
The lucky boot is even touching her sock – which you aren’t. For whilst the feminine boot is considered worthy to touch the outside of her sock, you, being male like me, are not. At the moment you aren’t even worthy to look at her sock. All you can do is think about her pink and black sock inside her boot, and about her soft, bare footskin beneath the protective covering of her short, cotton sock.
If you wish to be mistress Julie’s personal footslave you must obsess yourself about her feet and footwear like this – for mistress Julie, I can assure you, does not suffer footfools gladly, and she will soon detect if you are failing in your duty to humbly concentrate on her superior footwear.
So just look at, smell and admire the outside of her left boot, whilst I do the same with her right.
Oh – there is sudden movement! Mistress Julie is pushing back her chair and getting up from the kitchen table. She is about to head off to work!
We must now humbly follow her to heel on our hands and knees as she walks down the street towards the train station, where she will catch the 07:52 service into the centre of town where her office is located.
What’s that? You want to know exactly what job mistress Julie does for a living? Insolent slave! That’s no concern of ours! Such things are above mere footslaves such as us! Do you really think mistress Julie gives a damn about what we think of her job?
You should concentrate on your own job – that of admiring and serving your superior mistress’s boots and socks throughout the day! What she does with her time throughout the day is absolutely none of our business!
So – in answer to your question – I don’t know what specific role my mistress Julie has in her office, or even what her office does! I’m just a raggedy-assed, inferior, male footslave, and my brain can only think about female feet and footwear!
Your brain is exactly the same – so just concentrate on the backs of mistress Julie’s block heels as she walks along the pavement, like a good little footslave!
Can you see how the hems of her slightly flared, boot-cut trouser legs flap around her heels and ankles as she walks along? That means, of course, that we get the occasional tantalising glance of the backs of her upper boot-heels – although most of the time it’s just the slightly scuff-marked, blocky heels themselves that are visible beneath her trouser hems as she marches along.
God knows how hard I have tried to lick away those scuff marks on the base of her blocky, leather boot-heels. Night after night I suck and lick on them, but the ingrained scuff marks just seem to reappear as soon as my slave-saliva dries off the boots. Fortunately my mistress Julie herself doesn’t seem too bothered by the scuff marks. I suppose they are out of her mistressly sight just as much as they are in our footslavish sight.
Out of sight –out of mind. In sight – in mind. We must constantly mind her scuff-marked heels.
However, you may about to be in for a cheap thrill as we are now approaching the metal stairwell which mistress Julie must climb up in order to cross over the railway station footbridge to the other platform. Watch closely now as you crawl behind her scuff-marked, booted heels on all fours up the metal steps – for you might, if you are very lucky, just catch a fleeting glimpse of the pink top of one of her black socks.
There! Did you see it? Did you see that thin, line of pink at the very top of her black, cotton ankle sock inside her left boot – just as she ran up that last step?
You did? Well, what did you think of it? Wasn’t it nice? Didn’t I tell you my mistress Julie had nice socks on? Did you get the chance to see how the top of the pink and black sock contrasted so sweetly with the pale white of her shapely calf muscle?
No? Not really? Oh well, I suppose it all happened rather quickly! Never mind. Hopefully you’ll get a more sustained opportunity to observe the top of one of mistress Julie’s pink and black bootsocks later on this morning when she is seated, cross-legged, at her office desk.
For now, however, we must act as a footrest to mistress Julie whilst she is seated on the train.
As you no doubt already know, all trains (and buses) in the Gynarchy have been adapted to include spaces in the floor beneath the seats for footslaves to lie in, so that their mistress can rest the dusty soles of their dirty shoes or boots on their footslaves’ faces. We must both lie on our stomachs, with our right cheeks resting on the dirty floor, so that our upturned left cheeks act as human footrests.
I know what you’re thinking – wouldn’t it be better if we could lie down on our backs and look up our mistress’s trouser legs whilst her booted feet rest on our fully upturned faces?
Of course that would be better – for us! For we would then be able to see the elasticated tops of mistress Julie’s pink and black ankle-socks - and possibly even her bare, white skin above the top of her socks - underneath the hems of her boot-cut trouser legs!
But the point is that it wouldn’t be so comfortable for mistress Julie. Our upturned cheeks provide a nice, flat surface for her to rest the dirty soles of her black, leather ankle boots on; our fully upturned faces, on the other hand, would be uncomfortable for the mistress – as our noses would get in the way! The soles of her boots would keep slipping off our ugly, male noses, causing discomfort to the mistress.
No, a mistress needs a nice, flat surface on which to rest her superior, booted feet, and a footslave’s upturned left cheek is therefore conventionally used.
Normally of course, the mistress’s left boot would be resting directly in front of your face whilst her right boot rests on top of your upturned, left cheek, but today, because there are two of us, we each have one booted foot resting on our upturned cheeks.
You have the left one. I’m afraid, therefore, that whilst you will be able to feel one of mistress Julie’s boots on the side of your face, you won’t be able to see her other boot during the train journey into the centre of town – which is a shame, for I fancy that you really could do with some more boot-study time. You really need to get to know every nook and cranny in your mistress’s boots if you are to be a proper servant to them!
Never mind. At least, like me, you are getting to feel the rough little pieces of street mud and dirt rubbing into your facial pores as mistress Julie’s left boot rests on your upturned cheek. I wonder, does the sole of the left boot feel slightly damp on your face? The one on my face certainly does! I think the pavements were still quite wet from last night’s rain, weren’t they? So it is only right and proper that we should each use the side of our face to dry the soles of mistress Julie’s precious, black ankle-boots!
Can you also feel the vibration of the train engine beneath your right cheek – the one resting on the dirty floor of the train? You’ll soon get used to that – or, at least, you would if, like me, you acted as a footrest on public transport twice a day, five days a week!
It’s only a short journey into town. As you can possibly tell, mistress Julie is ignoring her footrests and is engrossed in her newspaper during her short commute. She sometimes just listens to music on her MP3 player whilst on the train. You can always tell when she’s listening to music above you as her feet subconsciously tap in time with the music, and so the boot resting on top of your upturned cheek is rhythmically tapping out the beat to the music on your face, whilst the leather in her other boot – the one normally resting in front of your prone and vulnerable face – will be creasing and folding in front of your very eyes in line with her subconscious, rhythmic foot-tapping.
It’s a beautiful sight for a down-in-the-dirt footslave. I wish you could witness it! Hopefully mistress Julie will be listening to her MP3 player on the journey home this evening, and you will be able to see for yourself exactly what I mean then!
For now, however, the train journey into our mistress’s place of work is over, and we are once again crawling behind her ankle-booted heels as she takes the short walk from the central station to her office.
We pass a number of public footslaves on the way – public shoeshine slaves etc. But our mistress Julie never uses them. They are more for mistresses who don’t own personal slaves. Mistress Julie has me (and today you) to take care of her feet and footwear! She has no need of the services of a mere public footslave!
And so she enters her office and puts her handbag down on her desk. She appears to be the first one in this morning. That’s normal. The empty desk beside her belongs to our mistress Julie’s 19 year old personal assistant, miss Anita – I’ll tell you more about her later when she gets in. She normally gets in about half an hour or so after her boss - our own boss, mistress Julie.
The first thing mistress Julie does before sitting down at her desk is to make herself a nice cup of tea. We, of course, must follow her to heel down the corridor to the office kitchen.
You might think that it would be our job, as mistress Julie’s personal slaves to make her a cup of tea. But no. We are merely footslaves, and such complicated chores are considered above us. We must merely kneel and stare at mistress Julie’s office boots beneath the hems of her smart, navy-blue, pinstriped trouser- legs whilst she makes herself a cup of tea. I expect her assistant miss Anita would offer to make her one if she was in. But miss Anita isn’t here yet!
Do you fancy a cuppa? Tough! Ha! Ha! Mistress Julie would never make us a cup of tea! Ha! Ha! Slaves don’t get tea breaks!
Slaves don’t get breaks – period!
We can smell the fresh tea, however, as we crawl behind mistress Julie’s heels along the purple carpet of the office corridor back towards her own office and her desk.
There mistress Julie sits down in her comfortable, fully adjustable office-chair and logs on to her computer.
Have you ever used a computer? I have, even though they were invented long after I was enslaved! My mistress Julie allows me to keep a slave-blog, although she obviously censors everything I write and I am only permitted to write enthusiastically and lovingly about my experiences as her personal footslave!
Now…if we’re lucky…she will…any minute now….Yes! Mistress Julie has crossed her right leg over her left, and as a result the elasticated top of her pretty, pink and black bootsock - even a glimpse of her smooth, bare, white skin above the sock - is now clearly visible on her right leg.
Can you see it?
Normally, of course, a footslave is required to stare at his mistress’s lower foot – the one still resting on the ground – whilst she is seated cross-legged at her desk. That’s because a footslave’s face must always be as close to the ground – and the dirt - as is slavishly possible.
Today, however, because there are two of us, I will do my duty of staring at mistress Julie’s left booted foot on the ground, whilst you have the rare privilege and the honour of looking at her right booted foot – the one hovering in the air!
That’s because I really do want you to be able to study her sock! I’ve already seen her socks today – and touched them – when I put them on her pretty, white feet! But you haven’t had the chance yet today to truly admire mistress Julie’s pink and black socks inside her boots.
At least now you can see the elasticated top of her right bootsock - whilst she is still wearing it. How exciting for you! Can you see the thin, pink stripe at the very top of the otherwise plain, black ankle sock? That thin, pink stripe makes it undeniably feminine, don’t you think? Only a girl would wear socks like that. It makes the sock look very sweet!
And can you see that crease in the top of her sock? I can assure you that it wasn’t there when I expertly smoothed the sock onto mistress Julie’s right foot earlier this morning – so you can’t blame me for that crease! It has been caused purely by the movement of the mistress’s right foot – movements such as now, as she is subconsciously flexing her foot inside her boot, causing her ankle-booted foot to swivel in the air directly in front of your awestruck, kneeling face.
Fetching, isn’t it? You are such a lucky footslave! This is a truly rare treat. Normally, as I explained, you would be obliged to stare at her stationary, lower boot – as I am endeavouring to do now. But instead you are being permitted to look at a moving boot – a short, feminine ankle boot which is moving directly in front of your face. Just inches away from your eyes! Look – even the dark, metal zip on the side of mistress Julie’s right boot is swinging in reaction to her flexing of her pretty foot muscles!
Watch and admire!
What’s that? You feel compelled to kiss her boot zip? Don’t you dare! You must have mistress Julie’s specific and explicit permission to touch any part of her boot with your slave mouth, even the humble, metal boot-zip! You can look – but don’t touch. Remember, she – and her boot, and her sock – are your feminine betters!
Just be thankful that you are permitted to kneel in their superior, feminine presence!
We now hear a happy, female, Asian voice greeting our mistress above us. It is miss Anita – mistress Julie’s assistant. She has just arrived in the office – as usual some 30 minutes or so after her boss, our mistress Julie.
Mistress Anita has, also as per usual, already bought herself a large cup of decaffeinated coffee, which she purchases at the takeaway café next door. She puts it down on her desk and plonks the rest of her stuff down on the floor as she takes up her seat at her desk directly beside our beloved mistress Julie.
Now, beyond mistress Julie’s black, leather, zip-up ankle boot and pink and black bootsock, you can see a fetching pair of soft, black, feminine ballet flats, black, opaque, nylon tights, and dark grey, knee-length culottes. Like mistress Julie, mistress Anita crosses her legs, meaning that her own right, ballet-flated foot is hovering enticingly in the air along with mistress Julie’s smart, black, ankle-booted foot.
Don’t pretend you’re not distracted by that pretty, black ballet flat hovering in the air! Any red-blooded footslave would be – for it is a truly pretty, if terribly scuff-marked, black ballet-flat on the end of a shapely, if somewhat plump, black-tighted leg – the leg of a young, 19 year old Asian woman with a delightfully squeaky voice:
‘Ha! Ha! What’s this? Are you being having two personal footslaves at your feet this morning, miss Julie?’ enquires miss Anita chirpily.
Miss Anita – you will notice – doers not have a footslave of her own. She probably can’t afford one on her lower wages. She is, after all, only a junior assistant.
‘Ha! Ha! Yeah – the second one is shadowing Patheticus for the day!’ responds miss Julie to her younger colleague.
Sorry – I should have introduced myself properly to you earlier. My name is slave Patheticus. You, of course, don’t yet have a slave-name – but you will have if you do decide to surrender yourself to the Gynarchial authorities for full-time enslavement! They will give you your new name.
‘Ha! Ha! Really, miss Julie, you are being quite greedy, isn’t it? I am thinking that I should be having this other fellow for the day at my feet as I am not having a footslave of my own, and my feet are already being quite tired and sweaty! Ha! Ha!...’
You lucky so and so! I think these two young women are shaping up to give you – temporarily at least – over to the office junior – miss Anita! I’ll be honest with you – completely loyal though I am to my mistress Julie and her smart, black leather ankle-boots – I do quite often find myself lusting after the slightly plump miss Anita’s neighbouring, scruffy, black, office ballet-flats. They always look so sweet and scuff-marked, and like they could do with a really good tongue-licking!
And as for the opportunity to smell her sweaty, opaque, black-nyloned feet! Well!
Our mistress Julie responds to her dark-nylon-tighted personal assistant’s thinly-veiled request:
‘…Ha! Ha! Okay, Anita. Seems only fair! You can have the trainee footslave for the rest of the morning, but I’m going to the gym later this afternoon and will have to take both these footslave-dorks with me then!’
‘Ha! Ha! Cool!’ responds miss Anita, enthusiastically.
There you are! You’ve been ‘sold’! Sold to the Asian girl in the dark grey culottes, black, opaque tights, and scruffy, black ballet flats!
You’d better move over to miss Anita’s feet straight away. I’ll still be close by as I attend to mistress Julie’s feet under the same desk, so I can still advise you on what to do.
‘You down there, the trainee-footslave…be placing your head on the floor so that I can be resting my foot on your cheek!’
Well, you heard miss Anita. Lie down on the floor – flat on your stomach, like you were on the train – and rest your right cheek flat down on the carpet so that miss Anita can rest her right foot on your upturned left cheek.
That’s it! Now do you see what I mean about the mistress’s left foot resting on the floor directly in front of your face? You can now, hopefully, see close up the side of plump miss Anita’s soft, black leather ballet-flat on her pretty, left foot whilst the dusty and dirty sole of her right ballet-flat digs into your cheek .
I’m quite jealous, I have to tell you! How does her black, ballet-flat look so close up? Does it look terribly scuff-marked and creased? In my humble footslave-experience well worn ballet-flats do tend to develop lots of creases and folds in their soft leather over time, and I know for a fact that miss Anita has owned this particular pair of ballet-flats for at least a year – since she started work here. She seems to wear nothing else to the office. Maybe she only has this one pair of ‘office’ shoes?
Anyway, as if the sight of the side of her well-worn black ballet-flat wasn’t intriguing enough, just look at those creases in the sides of her black, opaque, thick nylon tights – there around the inner ankle bone of her left foot – the one resting on the floor directly in front of your face! Those are the creased tights on the shapely ankle bone of a slightly plump, dark-haired, 19 year old Asian girl! How lucky are you – to be on a par with her black-nylon-covered ankle!
And your cup is about to runneth over:
‘You down there slave…be kissing the side of my left ankle, for you are being my slave today and must be showing me respect!’
I just cannot believe your luck! I am seething with footslave-jealousy! Have you any idea just how much I would like to kiss miss Anita’s black-tighted ankle bone right now? And yet here you are - being ordered by the feminine owner of the anklebone to do just that!
Well enjoy it! That’s all I can say. Place your lips respectfully on the creases in her black tights around that shapely, Asian, inner ankle bone and gently kiss it.
Tell me how it feels? Does the thick, nylon material of the Asian girl’s black tights feel quite rough on your lips? Does it feel warm? Can you smell anything? You can? You can smell sweat?
Mistress Anita’s feet must indeed be hot and sweaty inside her thick, black tights and black ballet-flats!
‘Ha! Ha! That’s right, foot-fellow! Be paying your respects to my pretty ankle bone! Humbly kiss the foot of your Asian goddess!’
I should explain that miss Anita is not exactly what you would call modest! She thinks she is ‘all that’. In fact, her boss, mistress Julie, sometimes has to take her down a peg or two - which is always amusing to watch!
Be that as it may, however, miss Anita is still very much your better – and mine – being free and female, and she is therefore entirely deserving of your footslavish respect.
So kiss the side of her nylon-covered ankle humbly – and kiss it well.
Miss Anita suddenly slips off her left ballet-flat and moves her nylon-covered toes even closer to your face, covering your nose with the reinforced nylon of the toe area, all whilst her equally pretty right foot, still shod in its black ballet-flat, continues to press down hard on the side of your upturned, left cheek.
She actually covers your nose with her black–tighted toes:
‘Ha! Ha! Breathe in my foot-stink, slave. Be sniffing my stinky tights through your nose! Ha! Ha! I am not being washing my feet since two days ago, and I am being wearing these same tights two days in a row now! Ha! Ha! How are you liking it, footslave? How are you liking the smell of my stinky foot?’
Well, go on then – answer the mistress!
‘Yes mistress. Thank you mistress. I like it mistress.’
Good grief! What sort of response was that? Don’t you speak slave-speak?
Oh sorry – of course you don’t! I keep forgetting that you haven’t actually been to slave training college yet! You’re just shadowing me to find out whether a life of foot-servitude is right for you!
I just hope however, that your impertinent reply hasn’t offended miss Anita. You should have responded with something like:
‘Oh pray mistress, if it pleases you mistress Anita, this dirty male slave is truly honoured and privileged to inhale the aroma of the superior mistress’s unwashed tights and fragrant toes through his dirty footslave nose, if it is so pleasing to you most beautiful and respected, all-powerful mistress Anita.’
But it’s too late now. You spoke like a normal human-being. I’m afraid that’s a no-no for a humble footslave!
‘Dirty, insolent pig!’ exclaims miss Anita, clearly quite shocked at your disrespectful tone.
And rightly so.
‘Ha! Ha! Go easy on him, Anita. Remember, he’s just a trainee-footslave. He’s just shadowing Patheticus for the day. I don’t think he’s had any formal training in slave manners yet!’
You are so lucky! My sweet and kind mistress Julie has used her authority to intercede on your behalf – otherwise miss Anita would most assuredly have had you whipped!
‘Very well. I shall be showing mercy to the pig on this occasion, miss Julie, but I must still be punishing him somehow for his insolence…’
She kicks off her other black leather ballet-flat, the one that had been pressing down on your upturned, left cheek:
‘…Slave, you will be turning over on your back and will be smelling both my feet for the rest of the morning. Obey me now, footpig, or I will be having you whipped!’
I truly cannot believe your luck! It must just be ‘beginner’s luck’!
I mean, this is meant to be your punishment? You are to turn over onto your back and have mistress Anita’s shoeless, black-tighted, sweaty feet resting on your upturned face all morning. Smelling her stinky, hot Asian feet whilst admiring her plump and curvy, black-tights-covered shins and calf muscles below her knee-length, dark-grey culottes?
My God, I’m beginning to regret letting you shadow me today! All I am getting to see is my mistress Julie’s lower, left, ankle-booted foot as it rests on the floor.
And you! You!...
Oh well, I suppose it isn’t your fault. You have no more say over your humble fate than I do. We both must serve our respective mistresses as they each see fit.
Or should that be as they see foot?!
So inhale…and enjoy the aroma of mistress Anita’s sweet, nylon-covered Asian feet!
……………………………………………………………………………………….
It is the afternoon now and mistress Julie, as promised, is taking us both to the gym. Your face must surely reek of miss Anita’s footsweat by now, having been confined under the soles of her black-tighted feet all morning?
I still can’t believe your luck!
But now it’s my turn to observe close-up more feminine hosiery, and all you can do this time is watch. Watch and learn.
Watch and learn how a footslave unzips his mistress’s black, leather ankle boots, peels off her precious, black and pink, ankle-length bootsocks, and changes her into her plain, white sports-socks and white and red sneakers.
Mistress Julie has already changed into the rest of her gym outfit, consisting off a white T shirt and black tracksuit bottoms with a single red stripe running down the sides.
The track suit bottoms, you will notice, have zips at the hems – zips which I must deliberately leave undone so that the sides of my mistress’s snowy-white ankle socks are on full view – on full view to me, that is, as I kneel humbly at her feet as she runs on the treadmill.
I’m always grateful at such times that my mistress Julie wears full-length, snowy-white ankle socks at the gym, as opposed to those increasingly fashionable and popular so-called ‘no show’ socks – for it is immeasurably more interesting for a humble footslave to observe the sides of his mistress’s white sports socks creasing and folding around her shapely, white ankle bones as she exercises on the gymnasium treadmill – as opposed to just the thin, elasticated tops of an ultra short pair of ‘no show’ sneaker socks.
Today, of all days, I am particularly grateful for such small mercies as you, yet again, are given the inestimable honour of having my mistress Julie’s discarded pink and black bootsocks resting on your upturned nose and face whilst I kneel and stare at her white sports socks.
Your nose really is getting to work overtime today, isn’t it?
How do our mistress Julie’s discarded bootsocks smell? Are they as tart and vinegary as miss Anita’s opaque, black tights must have been? After all, they have been on mistress Julie’s feet inside her ankle boots for several hours now! Oh I wish I could be the one smelling them right now - even though I am very much enjoying observing my mistress’s white, sports socks and sneakers as she runs on the treadmill.
One thing’s for sure – if her soft, white feet weren’t hot and sweaty before this exercise session, they sure as hell will be by the end of it!
I don’t believe it! Having finished her session at the gym, mistress Julie is letting you – the trainee footslave - change her out of her sweaty, white sports socks and sneakers and back into her pink and black ankle socks and black, leather ankle boots. That should be my job! You’re only supposed to be shadowing me and observing me at work – not taking over my role!
I’m actually glad to see you fumble a bit with mistress Julie’s socks – putting one of them on her right foot inside out at first. Ha! Ha! You’re lucky you weren’t whipped for that!
I certainly would be – and rightly so, seeing as how I am a fully trained personal footslave, and can have no excuse for poor performance; unlike you, it seems!
You, it seems, can get away with just about anything: verbal impertinence; clumsiness. Trust me – you won’t get away with such incompetence if you do decide to take the plunge and become a woman’s full-time, personal footslave. The stinging, female whip will grace your back every bit as much as it has graced mine over the years, and it will make you competent!
So we’re now back on the train again, acting as down-in-the-dirt footrests once more as our mistress Julie heads home. As I ‘promised’ you earlier, our mistress Julie is listening to her MP3 player – and her ankle-booted feet are tapping in time with the music beneath her navy-blue pinstriped trouser hems (for yes she always does change completely out of her gym kit and back into her office attire after her afternoon sessions at the gymnasium – even though she has usually finished her work for the day. I think she worries about sitting on the train in her sweaty gym clothes!)
Which is somewhat ironic, since we both know that just as soon as she gets into the house she will have us unzip and remove her boots, and then massage her stinky, sweaty, workaday feet whilst she relaxes on the sofa of her living room in front of the television.
What’s that? You didn’t know that? Sorry, I should have explained in more detail earlier – mistress Julie always likes to watch the early evening news whilst relaxing on her living-room sofa and having her feet rubbed by her personal footslave.
The only question is will it be her socked or bare feet that she requires us to rub? That always seems to depend on her mood at the time.
Ah – this evening, it seems, we are to rub and massage her socked feet. Sorry – I was hoping you might get the chance to touch and feel my mistress Julie’s delightfully soft and feminine, bare, white footflesh this evening, but it seems she feels that she doesn’t know you well enough for that.
Never mind. I myself actually prefer rubbing her socked feet. The socks always feel so warm and moist, and I can feel that moistness coming off the soles of her socks and onto my hands and fingers. I also adore the feeling of the little, rough balls of sock lint on the bottoms of her socks where the cotton material is starting to thin and to wear away.
Mistress Julie has kindly given us permission to rub one socked foot each – me the right foot, and you her left.
Don’t be afraid to rub hard. Mistress Julie is not ticklish – and she likes to really feel her footslave’s hands squeezing and manipulating the ball off her foot through the cotton material of her sock!
Can you smell the pungent aroma of her warm sock as you rub it? Utterly delightful, isn’t it? Do you see now why being a pretty, young, strawberry-blonde office-girl’s humble, personal footslave has its many rewards?
I mean today – in just one day – you have not only spent hours kneeling and staring at the outsides of mistress Julie’s black leather, block-heeled, zip-up ankle boots; you have also had the dirty, wet sole of her left boot resting on top of your upturned cheek; you have seen close-up the elasticated top of her pink and black bootsock whilst she was still wearing it on her soft, feminine leg inside her boot; you have had both her discarded, sweaty, pink and black bootsocks resting on your upturned face whilst she exercised at the gym; you have touched her warm and sweaty, white gym socks whilst you changed her back into her pink and black bootsocks; and now you are having the inestimable honour of massaging one of her sweaty, socked feet whilst she relaxes imperiously above you on the sofa.
Not only that, but in addition you got to stare at, to kiss, and to smell the soft, black ballet-flats and opaque, black nylon tights of miss Julie’s PA, miss Anita! Your day has been totally dominated by the feet and footwear of two supremely beautiful and arrogant young women – one a strawberry-blonde, the other a dark-haired Asian girl – and I can just tell that you don’t want this day to end!
But for you, now, sadly it must end. For your day shadowing a down-in-the-dirt footslave is now over.
I shall continue to massage my mistress Julie’s socked feet long after you have gone, but I’m afraid you must now leave us and go back to your own place; back to decide whether this is the humble life for you; whether you wish to formally apply to the Footslave Training Academy for a full-time position as a trainee, personal footslave.
I hope you do – for my initial impressions are that young women like to have you serving at their feet. You’re a ‘natural’ - your face seems to attract female feet like honey attracts bees.
Go on – take the plunge! Apply to become a full-time footslave like me!
You know you want to!
The End
Well, you are welcome to accompany me as I serve my mistress Julie throughout the day. I’ve already asked her if you can ‘shadow’ me today, and she has kindly agreed that you can – although she doesn’t want to be bothered or disturbed by your presence at her feet in any way. So long as you remain to all intents and purposes invisible she is content for you to observe my work at her feet, so that you can get a taste of what life is really like as a full-time personal footslave.
You join us at the breakfast table as mistress Julie is enjoying her cooked breakfast. Your place is down on the floor with me – kneeling at mistress Julie’s feet under the kitchen table.
As you can see, my mistress Julie is a slim, attractive 28 year old strawberry-blonde, with her hair fetchingly tied back in a ponytail. She is already fully dressed in her office wear as today is a normal working day, and she will soon be heading off to her office in the city. She is therefore wearing a smart navy-blue, pinstriped trouser suit over a crisp, frilly white blouse.
More importantly, as you can also see – now that you are kneeling beside me at mistress Julie’s feet under the table – she is wearing a smart pair of block-heeled, round-toed, black leather, zip-up ankle boots beneath her boot-cut, navy blue, pinstriped trouser legs.
Because she is currently seated at the kitchen table with both her ankle-booted feet resting on the ground, what you can’t see are her socks inside her boots – but I can tell you that she is wearing a beautiful pair of plain, black ankle-socks with a pink trim inside those smart, black leather office-boots.
I know what type of socks she is wearing because I had to put them on my mistress Julie’s feet earlier this morning – just after she had showered and dressed. I put her socks and her boots on for her this morning – just as I must do every morning of the working day. It’s one of the more mundane parts of my daily footslave routine but, pathetically, I enjoy doing it.
I enjoy doing it because I know that my mistress Julie is perfectly capable of putting on her own boots and socks should she so wish to, but that she has me do it in order to humiliate me and degrade me – and to emphasise my lowly position as her total foot-servant.
What’s that? You wish you could have watched me putting her socks and boots on her beautiful, bare feet this morning, or even have assisted me in the process? Well, you should have got here earlier, then, shouldn’t you? Ha! Ha!
You are right in your presumption about one thing though – my mistress Julie’s feet and ankles – in common with the rest of her 28 year old body – are indeed shapely and beautiful. I can tell you that they are very pale and soft too! I think you would be truly enthralled by the sight of her bare feet. But sadly for you, you won’t be seeing them – not for a while anyway! Not until she gets home from work later this evening when she might – might – order us to massage her tired and sweaty, bare feet, if we’re lucky!
No, for the meantime all you will be seeing are the outsides of her boots and, if you are very lucky, the occasional glimpse of the pink and black, elasticated tops of her pretty, ankle-length bootsocks inside her zip-up boots as she goes about her daily business in her office.
For now, however, her precious pink and black socks are frustratingly hidden from view by the flared hems of her pinstriped trouser-legs – so I suggest you concentrate on the outsides of her ankle-boots and get to know them instead.
What’s that? The smell of mistress Julie’s hot breakfast is making you hungry? Well tough! Again, you should have got here earlier. I’ve already eaten my one slave meal of the day – my bowl of slave-mush. We won’t be fed again today, so you’ll just have to try to ignore your hunger pangs!
Can I suggest you instead focus all your attention on your new mistress’s outer footwear, and try to inbreathe through your nose the smell of her black, leather ankle-boots? Specifically, you must focus your eyes on the creases in the black leather of her boots. You can concentrate on her left boot, if you like, whilst I concentrate on her right. Believe me, it will help you to forget your hunger if you concentrate your mind on her attractive, feminine footwear. Observe the way the black leather creases and folds with the subconscious movements of mistress Julie’s foot muscles inside her boot.
So do you like those tiny little boot-creases? I do. I love looking at them, for they remind me that my mistress Julie has worn these boots many times before. They are now fully moulded to the contours of her feet – hence the creases in the leather. And those selfsame tiny creases are very much the humble footslave’s friend, for they accumulate dust and dirt from the street, and we like the humbling sight and taste of street dirt on our mistress’s boots – though, as you can see, her boots are presently quite clean and shiny.
That’s because I tongue-shined them for two whole hours last night. I have to tongue-shine them for two hours each and every night. It’s just one of my daily, humiliating chores – and one I must complete before I go to sleep. It’s not, however, as you might think, the final chore every day; the final chore is always mouth-washing my mistress Julie’s dirty socks, which I do by soaking them inside my slave-mouth every night whilst I am sleeping.
Mistress Julie is very clever – she says that having her dirty socks soaking inside my mouth overnight also stops me from snoring, and that’s important since I have to repose every night on my hands and knees at the foot of her bed, so it’s important that I don’t keep her awake with my snoring.
In the winter, she also uses my face as a hot water bottle for her bare, unwashed, overnight feet underneath the end of her duvet, but during the summertime she prefers to sleep with her feet resting directly in front of my face, rather than on it. It still means that her unwashed bare, pale white feet are the last thing I see at night and the first thing I see every morning when I wake up in my uncomfortable kneeling position at the foot of her bed – with, of course, her dirty socks still in my mouth, although most of the stale footsweat from the day before will have soaked out of my mistress’s socks by the morning and will have slid down my slave throat and into my slave stomach.
Where it belongs!
But I digress, and I can see that I’m just making you jealous! You won’t be spending the night at mistress Julie’s feet as part of your shadowing arrangements – just the daytime. So let’s make the most of what time you do have in her foot-service.
As I said – concentrate on the outside of her left boot – the one now resting directly in front of your face, and admire the tiny movements in her boot leather as my mistress enjoys her nourishing and wholesome cooked breakfast seated imperiously above you. Think about how mistress Julie is your better; about how you are totally in her power; about how even her black, leather ankle boot is better than you, for it is closer to her sock and hence her bare foot than you are.
The lucky boot is even touching her sock – which you aren’t. For whilst the feminine boot is considered worthy to touch the outside of her sock, you, being male like me, are not. At the moment you aren’t even worthy to look at her sock. All you can do is think about her pink and black sock inside her boot, and about her soft, bare footskin beneath the protective covering of her short, cotton sock.
If you wish to be mistress Julie’s personal footslave you must obsess yourself about her feet and footwear like this – for mistress Julie, I can assure you, does not suffer footfools gladly, and she will soon detect if you are failing in your duty to humbly concentrate on her superior footwear.
So just look at, smell and admire the outside of her left boot, whilst I do the same with her right.
Oh – there is sudden movement! Mistress Julie is pushing back her chair and getting up from the kitchen table. She is about to head off to work!
We must now humbly follow her to heel on our hands and knees as she walks down the street towards the train station, where she will catch the 07:52 service into the centre of town where her office is located.
What’s that? You want to know exactly what job mistress Julie does for a living? Insolent slave! That’s no concern of ours! Such things are above mere footslaves such as us! Do you really think mistress Julie gives a damn about what we think of her job?
You should concentrate on your own job – that of admiring and serving your superior mistress’s boots and socks throughout the day! What she does with her time throughout the day is absolutely none of our business!
So – in answer to your question – I don’t know what specific role my mistress Julie has in her office, or even what her office does! I’m just a raggedy-assed, inferior, male footslave, and my brain can only think about female feet and footwear!
Your brain is exactly the same – so just concentrate on the backs of mistress Julie’s block heels as she walks along the pavement, like a good little footslave!
Can you see how the hems of her slightly flared, boot-cut trouser legs flap around her heels and ankles as she walks along? That means, of course, that we get the occasional tantalising glance of the backs of her upper boot-heels – although most of the time it’s just the slightly scuff-marked, blocky heels themselves that are visible beneath her trouser hems as she marches along.
God knows how hard I have tried to lick away those scuff marks on the base of her blocky, leather boot-heels. Night after night I suck and lick on them, but the ingrained scuff marks just seem to reappear as soon as my slave-saliva dries off the boots. Fortunately my mistress Julie herself doesn’t seem too bothered by the scuff marks. I suppose they are out of her mistressly sight just as much as they are in our footslavish sight.
Out of sight –out of mind. In sight – in mind. We must constantly mind her scuff-marked heels.
However, you may about to be in for a cheap thrill as we are now approaching the metal stairwell which mistress Julie must climb up in order to cross over the railway station footbridge to the other platform. Watch closely now as you crawl behind her scuff-marked, booted heels on all fours up the metal steps – for you might, if you are very lucky, just catch a fleeting glimpse of the pink top of one of her black socks.
There! Did you see it? Did you see that thin, line of pink at the very top of her black, cotton ankle sock inside her left boot – just as she ran up that last step?
You did? Well, what did you think of it? Wasn’t it nice? Didn’t I tell you my mistress Julie had nice socks on? Did you get the chance to see how the top of the pink and black sock contrasted so sweetly with the pale white of her shapely calf muscle?
No? Not really? Oh well, I suppose it all happened rather quickly! Never mind. Hopefully you’ll get a more sustained opportunity to observe the top of one of mistress Julie’s pink and black bootsocks later on this morning when she is seated, cross-legged, at her office desk.
For now, however, we must act as a footrest to mistress Julie whilst she is seated on the train.
As you no doubt already know, all trains (and buses) in the Gynarchy have been adapted to include spaces in the floor beneath the seats for footslaves to lie in, so that their mistress can rest the dusty soles of their dirty shoes or boots on their footslaves’ faces. We must both lie on our stomachs, with our right cheeks resting on the dirty floor, so that our upturned left cheeks act as human footrests.
I know what you’re thinking – wouldn’t it be better if we could lie down on our backs and look up our mistress’s trouser legs whilst her booted feet rest on our fully upturned faces?
Of course that would be better – for us! For we would then be able to see the elasticated tops of mistress Julie’s pink and black ankle-socks - and possibly even her bare, white skin above the top of her socks - underneath the hems of her boot-cut trouser legs!
But the point is that it wouldn’t be so comfortable for mistress Julie. Our upturned cheeks provide a nice, flat surface for her to rest the dirty soles of her black, leather ankle boots on; our fully upturned faces, on the other hand, would be uncomfortable for the mistress – as our noses would get in the way! The soles of her boots would keep slipping off our ugly, male noses, causing discomfort to the mistress.
No, a mistress needs a nice, flat surface on which to rest her superior, booted feet, and a footslave’s upturned left cheek is therefore conventionally used.
Normally of course, the mistress’s left boot would be resting directly in front of your face whilst her right boot rests on top of your upturned, left cheek, but today, because there are two of us, we each have one booted foot resting on our upturned cheeks.
You have the left one. I’m afraid, therefore, that whilst you will be able to feel one of mistress Julie’s boots on the side of your face, you won’t be able to see her other boot during the train journey into the centre of town – which is a shame, for I fancy that you really could do with some more boot-study time. You really need to get to know every nook and cranny in your mistress’s boots if you are to be a proper servant to them!
Never mind. At least, like me, you are getting to feel the rough little pieces of street mud and dirt rubbing into your facial pores as mistress Julie’s left boot rests on your upturned cheek. I wonder, does the sole of the left boot feel slightly damp on your face? The one on my face certainly does! I think the pavements were still quite wet from last night’s rain, weren’t they? So it is only right and proper that we should each use the side of our face to dry the soles of mistress Julie’s precious, black ankle-boots!
Can you also feel the vibration of the train engine beneath your right cheek – the one resting on the dirty floor of the train? You’ll soon get used to that – or, at least, you would if, like me, you acted as a footrest on public transport twice a day, five days a week!
It’s only a short journey into town. As you can possibly tell, mistress Julie is ignoring her footrests and is engrossed in her newspaper during her short commute. She sometimes just listens to music on her MP3 player whilst on the train. You can always tell when she’s listening to music above you as her feet subconsciously tap in time with the music, and so the boot resting on top of your upturned cheek is rhythmically tapping out the beat to the music on your face, whilst the leather in her other boot – the one normally resting in front of your prone and vulnerable face – will be creasing and folding in front of your very eyes in line with her subconscious, rhythmic foot-tapping.
It’s a beautiful sight for a down-in-the-dirt footslave. I wish you could witness it! Hopefully mistress Julie will be listening to her MP3 player on the journey home this evening, and you will be able to see for yourself exactly what I mean then!
For now, however, the train journey into our mistress’s place of work is over, and we are once again crawling behind her ankle-booted heels as she takes the short walk from the central station to her office.
We pass a number of public footslaves on the way – public shoeshine slaves etc. But our mistress Julie never uses them. They are more for mistresses who don’t own personal slaves. Mistress Julie has me (and today you) to take care of her feet and footwear! She has no need of the services of a mere public footslave!
And so she enters her office and puts her handbag down on her desk. She appears to be the first one in this morning. That’s normal. The empty desk beside her belongs to our mistress Julie’s 19 year old personal assistant, miss Anita – I’ll tell you more about her later when she gets in. She normally gets in about half an hour or so after her boss - our own boss, mistress Julie.
The first thing mistress Julie does before sitting down at her desk is to make herself a nice cup of tea. We, of course, must follow her to heel down the corridor to the office kitchen.
You might think that it would be our job, as mistress Julie’s personal slaves to make her a cup of tea. But no. We are merely footslaves, and such complicated chores are considered above us. We must merely kneel and stare at mistress Julie’s office boots beneath the hems of her smart, navy-blue, pinstriped trouser- legs whilst she makes herself a cup of tea. I expect her assistant miss Anita would offer to make her one if she was in. But miss Anita isn’t here yet!
Do you fancy a cuppa? Tough! Ha! Ha! Mistress Julie would never make us a cup of tea! Ha! Ha! Slaves don’t get tea breaks!
Slaves don’t get breaks – period!
We can smell the fresh tea, however, as we crawl behind mistress Julie’s heels along the purple carpet of the office corridor back towards her own office and her desk.
There mistress Julie sits down in her comfortable, fully adjustable office-chair and logs on to her computer.
Have you ever used a computer? I have, even though they were invented long after I was enslaved! My mistress Julie allows me to keep a slave-blog, although she obviously censors everything I write and I am only permitted to write enthusiastically and lovingly about my experiences as her personal footslave!
Now…if we’re lucky…she will…any minute now….Yes! Mistress Julie has crossed her right leg over her left, and as a result the elasticated top of her pretty, pink and black bootsock - even a glimpse of her smooth, bare, white skin above the sock - is now clearly visible on her right leg.
Can you see it?
Normally, of course, a footslave is required to stare at his mistress’s lower foot – the one still resting on the ground – whilst she is seated cross-legged at her desk. That’s because a footslave’s face must always be as close to the ground – and the dirt - as is slavishly possible.
Today, however, because there are two of us, I will do my duty of staring at mistress Julie’s left booted foot on the ground, whilst you have the rare privilege and the honour of looking at her right booted foot – the one hovering in the air!
That’s because I really do want you to be able to study her sock! I’ve already seen her socks today – and touched them – when I put them on her pretty, white feet! But you haven’t had the chance yet today to truly admire mistress Julie’s pink and black socks inside her boots.
At least now you can see the elasticated top of her right bootsock - whilst she is still wearing it. How exciting for you! Can you see the thin, pink stripe at the very top of the otherwise plain, black ankle sock? That thin, pink stripe makes it undeniably feminine, don’t you think? Only a girl would wear socks like that. It makes the sock look very sweet!
And can you see that crease in the top of her sock? I can assure you that it wasn’t there when I expertly smoothed the sock onto mistress Julie’s right foot earlier this morning – so you can’t blame me for that crease! It has been caused purely by the movement of the mistress’s right foot – movements such as now, as she is subconsciously flexing her foot inside her boot, causing her ankle-booted foot to swivel in the air directly in front of your awestruck, kneeling face.
Fetching, isn’t it? You are such a lucky footslave! This is a truly rare treat. Normally, as I explained, you would be obliged to stare at her stationary, lower boot – as I am endeavouring to do now. But instead you are being permitted to look at a moving boot – a short, feminine ankle boot which is moving directly in front of your face. Just inches away from your eyes! Look – even the dark, metal zip on the side of mistress Julie’s right boot is swinging in reaction to her flexing of her pretty foot muscles!
Watch and admire!
What’s that? You feel compelled to kiss her boot zip? Don’t you dare! You must have mistress Julie’s specific and explicit permission to touch any part of her boot with your slave mouth, even the humble, metal boot-zip! You can look – but don’t touch. Remember, she – and her boot, and her sock – are your feminine betters!
Just be thankful that you are permitted to kneel in their superior, feminine presence!
We now hear a happy, female, Asian voice greeting our mistress above us. It is miss Anita – mistress Julie’s assistant. She has just arrived in the office – as usual some 30 minutes or so after her boss, our mistress Julie.
Mistress Anita has, also as per usual, already bought herself a large cup of decaffeinated coffee, which she purchases at the takeaway café next door. She puts it down on her desk and plonks the rest of her stuff down on the floor as she takes up her seat at her desk directly beside our beloved mistress Julie.
Now, beyond mistress Julie’s black, leather, zip-up ankle boot and pink and black bootsock, you can see a fetching pair of soft, black, feminine ballet flats, black, opaque, nylon tights, and dark grey, knee-length culottes. Like mistress Julie, mistress Anita crosses her legs, meaning that her own right, ballet-flated foot is hovering enticingly in the air along with mistress Julie’s smart, black, ankle-booted foot.
Don’t pretend you’re not distracted by that pretty, black ballet flat hovering in the air! Any red-blooded footslave would be – for it is a truly pretty, if terribly scuff-marked, black ballet-flat on the end of a shapely, if somewhat plump, black-tighted leg – the leg of a young, 19 year old Asian woman with a delightfully squeaky voice:
‘Ha! Ha! What’s this? Are you being having two personal footslaves at your feet this morning, miss Julie?’ enquires miss Anita chirpily.
Miss Anita – you will notice – doers not have a footslave of her own. She probably can’t afford one on her lower wages. She is, after all, only a junior assistant.
‘Ha! Ha! Yeah – the second one is shadowing Patheticus for the day!’ responds miss Julie to her younger colleague.
Sorry – I should have introduced myself properly to you earlier. My name is slave Patheticus. You, of course, don’t yet have a slave-name – but you will have if you do decide to surrender yourself to the Gynarchial authorities for full-time enslavement! They will give you your new name.
‘Ha! Ha! Really, miss Julie, you are being quite greedy, isn’t it? I am thinking that I should be having this other fellow for the day at my feet as I am not having a footslave of my own, and my feet are already being quite tired and sweaty! Ha! Ha!...’
You lucky so and so! I think these two young women are shaping up to give you – temporarily at least – over to the office junior – miss Anita! I’ll be honest with you – completely loyal though I am to my mistress Julie and her smart, black leather ankle-boots – I do quite often find myself lusting after the slightly plump miss Anita’s neighbouring, scruffy, black, office ballet-flats. They always look so sweet and scuff-marked, and like they could do with a really good tongue-licking!
And as for the opportunity to smell her sweaty, opaque, black-nyloned feet! Well!
Our mistress Julie responds to her dark-nylon-tighted personal assistant’s thinly-veiled request:
‘…Ha! Ha! Okay, Anita. Seems only fair! You can have the trainee footslave for the rest of the morning, but I’m going to the gym later this afternoon and will have to take both these footslave-dorks with me then!’
‘Ha! Ha! Cool!’ responds miss Anita, enthusiastically.
There you are! You’ve been ‘sold’! Sold to the Asian girl in the dark grey culottes, black, opaque tights, and scruffy, black ballet flats!
You’d better move over to miss Anita’s feet straight away. I’ll still be close by as I attend to mistress Julie’s feet under the same desk, so I can still advise you on what to do.
‘You down there, the trainee-footslave…be placing your head on the floor so that I can be resting my foot on your cheek!’
Well, you heard miss Anita. Lie down on the floor – flat on your stomach, like you were on the train – and rest your right cheek flat down on the carpet so that miss Anita can rest her right foot on your upturned left cheek.
That’s it! Now do you see what I mean about the mistress’s left foot resting on the floor directly in front of your face? You can now, hopefully, see close up the side of plump miss Anita’s soft, black leather ballet-flat on her pretty, left foot whilst the dusty and dirty sole of her right ballet-flat digs into your cheek .
I’m quite jealous, I have to tell you! How does her black, ballet-flat look so close up? Does it look terribly scuff-marked and creased? In my humble footslave-experience well worn ballet-flats do tend to develop lots of creases and folds in their soft leather over time, and I know for a fact that miss Anita has owned this particular pair of ballet-flats for at least a year – since she started work here. She seems to wear nothing else to the office. Maybe she only has this one pair of ‘office’ shoes?
Anyway, as if the sight of the side of her well-worn black ballet-flat wasn’t intriguing enough, just look at those creases in the sides of her black, opaque, thick nylon tights – there around the inner ankle bone of her left foot – the one resting on the floor directly in front of your face! Those are the creased tights on the shapely ankle bone of a slightly plump, dark-haired, 19 year old Asian girl! How lucky are you – to be on a par with her black-nylon-covered ankle!
And your cup is about to runneth over:
‘You down there slave…be kissing the side of my left ankle, for you are being my slave today and must be showing me respect!’
I just cannot believe your luck! I am seething with footslave-jealousy! Have you any idea just how much I would like to kiss miss Anita’s black-tighted ankle bone right now? And yet here you are - being ordered by the feminine owner of the anklebone to do just that!
Well enjoy it! That’s all I can say. Place your lips respectfully on the creases in her black tights around that shapely, Asian, inner ankle bone and gently kiss it.
Tell me how it feels? Does the thick, nylon material of the Asian girl’s black tights feel quite rough on your lips? Does it feel warm? Can you smell anything? You can? You can smell sweat?
Mistress Anita’s feet must indeed be hot and sweaty inside her thick, black tights and black ballet-flats!
‘Ha! Ha! That’s right, foot-fellow! Be paying your respects to my pretty ankle bone! Humbly kiss the foot of your Asian goddess!’
I should explain that miss Anita is not exactly what you would call modest! She thinks she is ‘all that’. In fact, her boss, mistress Julie, sometimes has to take her down a peg or two - which is always amusing to watch!
Be that as it may, however, miss Anita is still very much your better – and mine – being free and female, and she is therefore entirely deserving of your footslavish respect.
So kiss the side of her nylon-covered ankle humbly – and kiss it well.
Miss Anita suddenly slips off her left ballet-flat and moves her nylon-covered toes even closer to your face, covering your nose with the reinforced nylon of the toe area, all whilst her equally pretty right foot, still shod in its black ballet-flat, continues to press down hard on the side of your upturned, left cheek.
She actually covers your nose with her black–tighted toes:
‘Ha! Ha! Breathe in my foot-stink, slave. Be sniffing my stinky tights through your nose! Ha! Ha! I am not being washing my feet since two days ago, and I am being wearing these same tights two days in a row now! Ha! Ha! How are you liking it, footslave? How are you liking the smell of my stinky foot?’
Well, go on then – answer the mistress!
‘Yes mistress. Thank you mistress. I like it mistress.’
Good grief! What sort of response was that? Don’t you speak slave-speak?
Oh sorry – of course you don’t! I keep forgetting that you haven’t actually been to slave training college yet! You’re just shadowing me to find out whether a life of foot-servitude is right for you!
I just hope however, that your impertinent reply hasn’t offended miss Anita. You should have responded with something like:
‘Oh pray mistress, if it pleases you mistress Anita, this dirty male slave is truly honoured and privileged to inhale the aroma of the superior mistress’s unwashed tights and fragrant toes through his dirty footslave nose, if it is so pleasing to you most beautiful and respected, all-powerful mistress Anita.’
But it’s too late now. You spoke like a normal human-being. I’m afraid that’s a no-no for a humble footslave!
‘Dirty, insolent pig!’ exclaims miss Anita, clearly quite shocked at your disrespectful tone.
And rightly so.
‘Ha! Ha! Go easy on him, Anita. Remember, he’s just a trainee-footslave. He’s just shadowing Patheticus for the day. I don’t think he’s had any formal training in slave manners yet!’
You are so lucky! My sweet and kind mistress Julie has used her authority to intercede on your behalf – otherwise miss Anita would most assuredly have had you whipped!
‘Very well. I shall be showing mercy to the pig on this occasion, miss Julie, but I must still be punishing him somehow for his insolence…’
She kicks off her other black leather ballet-flat, the one that had been pressing down on your upturned, left cheek:
‘…Slave, you will be turning over on your back and will be smelling both my feet for the rest of the morning. Obey me now, footpig, or I will be having you whipped!’
I truly cannot believe your luck! It must just be ‘beginner’s luck’!
I mean, this is meant to be your punishment? You are to turn over onto your back and have mistress Anita’s shoeless, black-tighted, sweaty feet resting on your upturned face all morning. Smelling her stinky, hot Asian feet whilst admiring her plump and curvy, black-tights-covered shins and calf muscles below her knee-length, dark-grey culottes?
My God, I’m beginning to regret letting you shadow me today! All I am getting to see is my mistress Julie’s lower, left, ankle-booted foot as it rests on the floor.
And you! You!...
Oh well, I suppose it isn’t your fault. You have no more say over your humble fate than I do. We both must serve our respective mistresses as they each see fit.
Or should that be as they see foot?!
So inhale…and enjoy the aroma of mistress Anita’s sweet, nylon-covered Asian feet!
……………………………………………………………………………………….
It is the afternoon now and mistress Julie, as promised, is taking us both to the gym. Your face must surely reek of miss Anita’s footsweat by now, having been confined under the soles of her black-tighted feet all morning?
I still can’t believe your luck!
But now it’s my turn to observe close-up more feminine hosiery, and all you can do this time is watch. Watch and learn.
Watch and learn how a footslave unzips his mistress’s black, leather ankle boots, peels off her precious, black and pink, ankle-length bootsocks, and changes her into her plain, white sports-socks and white and red sneakers.
Mistress Julie has already changed into the rest of her gym outfit, consisting off a white T shirt and black tracksuit bottoms with a single red stripe running down the sides.
The track suit bottoms, you will notice, have zips at the hems – zips which I must deliberately leave undone so that the sides of my mistress’s snowy-white ankle socks are on full view – on full view to me, that is, as I kneel humbly at her feet as she runs on the treadmill.
I’m always grateful at such times that my mistress Julie wears full-length, snowy-white ankle socks at the gym, as opposed to those increasingly fashionable and popular so-called ‘no show’ socks – for it is immeasurably more interesting for a humble footslave to observe the sides of his mistress’s white sports socks creasing and folding around her shapely, white ankle bones as she exercises on the gymnasium treadmill – as opposed to just the thin, elasticated tops of an ultra short pair of ‘no show’ sneaker socks.
Today, of all days, I am particularly grateful for such small mercies as you, yet again, are given the inestimable honour of having my mistress Julie’s discarded pink and black bootsocks resting on your upturned nose and face whilst I kneel and stare at her white sports socks.
Your nose really is getting to work overtime today, isn’t it?
How do our mistress Julie’s discarded bootsocks smell? Are they as tart and vinegary as miss Anita’s opaque, black tights must have been? After all, they have been on mistress Julie’s feet inside her ankle boots for several hours now! Oh I wish I could be the one smelling them right now - even though I am very much enjoying observing my mistress’s white, sports socks and sneakers as she runs on the treadmill.
One thing’s for sure – if her soft, white feet weren’t hot and sweaty before this exercise session, they sure as hell will be by the end of it!
I don’t believe it! Having finished her session at the gym, mistress Julie is letting you – the trainee footslave - change her out of her sweaty, white sports socks and sneakers and back into her pink and black ankle socks and black, leather ankle boots. That should be my job! You’re only supposed to be shadowing me and observing me at work – not taking over my role!
I’m actually glad to see you fumble a bit with mistress Julie’s socks – putting one of them on her right foot inside out at first. Ha! Ha! You’re lucky you weren’t whipped for that!
I certainly would be – and rightly so, seeing as how I am a fully trained personal footslave, and can have no excuse for poor performance; unlike you, it seems!
You, it seems, can get away with just about anything: verbal impertinence; clumsiness. Trust me – you won’t get away with such incompetence if you do decide to take the plunge and become a woman’s full-time, personal footslave. The stinging, female whip will grace your back every bit as much as it has graced mine over the years, and it will make you competent!
So we’re now back on the train again, acting as down-in-the-dirt footrests once more as our mistress Julie heads home. As I ‘promised’ you earlier, our mistress Julie is listening to her MP3 player – and her ankle-booted feet are tapping in time with the music beneath her navy-blue pinstriped trouser hems (for yes she always does change completely out of her gym kit and back into her office attire after her afternoon sessions at the gymnasium – even though she has usually finished her work for the day. I think she worries about sitting on the train in her sweaty gym clothes!)
Which is somewhat ironic, since we both know that just as soon as she gets into the house she will have us unzip and remove her boots, and then massage her stinky, sweaty, workaday feet whilst she relaxes on the sofa of her living room in front of the television.
What’s that? You didn’t know that? Sorry, I should have explained in more detail earlier – mistress Julie always likes to watch the early evening news whilst relaxing on her living-room sofa and having her feet rubbed by her personal footslave.
The only question is will it be her socked or bare feet that she requires us to rub? That always seems to depend on her mood at the time.
Ah – this evening, it seems, we are to rub and massage her socked feet. Sorry – I was hoping you might get the chance to touch and feel my mistress Julie’s delightfully soft and feminine, bare, white footflesh this evening, but it seems she feels that she doesn’t know you well enough for that.
Never mind. I myself actually prefer rubbing her socked feet. The socks always feel so warm and moist, and I can feel that moistness coming off the soles of her socks and onto my hands and fingers. I also adore the feeling of the little, rough balls of sock lint on the bottoms of her socks where the cotton material is starting to thin and to wear away.
Mistress Julie has kindly given us permission to rub one socked foot each – me the right foot, and you her left.
Don’t be afraid to rub hard. Mistress Julie is not ticklish – and she likes to really feel her footslave’s hands squeezing and manipulating the ball off her foot through the cotton material of her sock!
Can you smell the pungent aroma of her warm sock as you rub it? Utterly delightful, isn’t it? Do you see now why being a pretty, young, strawberry-blonde office-girl’s humble, personal footslave has its many rewards?
I mean today – in just one day – you have not only spent hours kneeling and staring at the outsides of mistress Julie’s black leather, block-heeled, zip-up ankle boots; you have also had the dirty, wet sole of her left boot resting on top of your upturned cheek; you have seen close-up the elasticated top of her pink and black bootsock whilst she was still wearing it on her soft, feminine leg inside her boot; you have had both her discarded, sweaty, pink and black bootsocks resting on your upturned face whilst she exercised at the gym; you have touched her warm and sweaty, white gym socks whilst you changed her back into her pink and black bootsocks; and now you are having the inestimable honour of massaging one of her sweaty, socked feet whilst she relaxes imperiously above you on the sofa.
Not only that, but in addition you got to stare at, to kiss, and to smell the soft, black ballet-flats and opaque, black nylon tights of miss Julie’s PA, miss Anita! Your day has been totally dominated by the feet and footwear of two supremely beautiful and arrogant young women – one a strawberry-blonde, the other a dark-haired Asian girl – and I can just tell that you don’t want this day to end!
But for you, now, sadly it must end. For your day shadowing a down-in-the-dirt footslave is now over.
I shall continue to massage my mistress Julie’s socked feet long after you have gone, but I’m afraid you must now leave us and go back to your own place; back to decide whether this is the humble life for you; whether you wish to formally apply to the Footslave Training Academy for a full-time position as a trainee, personal footslave.
I hope you do – for my initial impressions are that young women like to have you serving at their feet. You’re a ‘natural’ - your face seems to attract female feet like honey attracts bees.
Go on – take the plunge! Apply to become a full-time footslave like me!
You know you want to!
The End
