The Trainee-Footmistress

Lesson 1 – Getting to know you

Slave Adrian was quite nervous. He always was on the first day of a new course.

He worked at the Footmistress Training Academy as a footmistresses’ training-slave. It was an establishment where young women of 21 and over came to learn the art of owning and managing a personal footslave, and slave Adrian’s role was to serve them, and to fawn to them, in compliance with the instructions of the female trainers, in order to build up the confidence of the would-be, rookie footmistresses to the point where they were happy and relaxed in their new role of personal slave-owner.

Of course, many young women had no need to follow any such course – they were natural dominants. But for others the week-long, residential course helped to build up their self-esteem and self-confidence to the point where they finally recognised their innate, feminine superiority over the male, despite being less naturally inclined to dominance.

Still other students on the course had simply emigrated to the Gynarchy from abroad – female refugees from male oppression and the like – and the Female State, their new home, paid for them, via its freemale tax revenue, to have lessons in sweet feminine mastery over the enslaved male.

It was a large Training Academy – situated on the outskirts of the Gynarchy’s second city, Femina – and slave Adrian was by no means the only footmistress training-slave. There were several dozen of them – but each would be allocated to just one trainee-mistress at the start of each course.

Hence his nervousness, for in the next few minutes he would find out exactly which superior-female trainee he would be serving – morning, noon and night – during the next five-day intensive course. Would she be pretty, or plain? White, Hispanic, Asian or Black? Cruel or kind ? (for even non-natural dominants can learn to be exceptionally cruel!).

Most importantly of all, would the mistress pass the course and be satisfied with her tuition? For if she does not – if she needs to resit the course before being allowed to own her own permanent footslave – slave Adrian knows he shall be blamed, and sorely whipped.

And the Female Academy’s female whips do sting mightily on a bare, male back when wielded by the Academy’s professional whip-girls!

It was therefore with a sense of genuine trepidation that he found himself being led in on all fours by one of the Academy’s female staff to the classroom of new-entrant, female students – all of whom, in their own ways, were perhaps equally nervous and apprehensive. For none of them would wish to let down their female species by failing the course!

Slave Adrian was dragged unceremoniously on his hands and knees over towards a young, white, bespectacled, spiky-haired, blonde woman who was seated at a desk in the front row of the classroom. She was casually dressed in a pale pink T shirt and dark blue denim jeans tucked into the tops of a fetching pair of light-grey leather, round-toed and flat-heeled, pull on ankle-boots, folded over at the tops – so-called ‘pixie boots’! Slave Adrian fell in love with them and their scrunched grey leather at first sight!

The boots looked somewhat scruffy and unkempt, but the girl herself looked nice and clean. A local girl – Gynarchy born and bred – he guessed; she just didn’t have that aura of an overseas-mistress about her. She must, therefore, be a somewhat diffident mistress by nature – in need of reassurance and support in her quest to discover and bring out the dormant, dominant side of her feminine personality.

She certainly looked to have a kindly face and kindly eyes behind her glasses – although slave Adrian only caught a fleeting glimpse of her spiky-blonde-framed, facial features as he was led over to her ankle-booted feet. It wasn’t that she had been smiling, or anything; indeed she looked somewhat timid and nervous, if truth be told. But somehow she looked kindly with it; almost as if she felt sorry for him!

He took an instant liking to his new, nervous, trainee-footmistress, and resolved to do his utmost to serve her well and bring out the worst in her so that she could find her inner mistress and pass muster as a male-slave owner.

She was introduced to him as ‘mistress Jane’ by the Academy staff-mistress as the latter deposited him in front of the new student’s feet and ordered him to kiss his new mistress’s boots.

Mistress Jane immediately demonstrated her inexperience and lack of mistressly confidence by instinctively withdrawing her soft, grey pixie boots in underneath her desk – as if declining the offer to have her boots kissed by the lowly, middle-aged, semi-naked, male footserf who was now kneeling on the floor in front of her with his head humbly bowed. Indeed, the staff-mistress had to mildly scold her, and exhort her to stretch forward her boots again for kissing, something which caused the sweet, young blonde woman to blush when she realised what she had subconsciously just done.

Fortunately, none of the other students had noticed; they were all too busy being similarly introduced to their respective slaves. And so, figuratively speaking kicking herself, miss Jane was able to recover her composure and duly stretch forth her pixie-booted feet in front of her, whilst she remained seated at her classroom desk, in order for the male slave to pay his proper, slavish respects to them.

It was a truly novel experience for the shy and retiring miss Jane; she had never had her boots kissed before; she had never even used a public footslave before in the streets. She was a total footmistress-virgin – but as the humble slaveman’s lips made contact with the scuffmarked, rounded toe of each of her grey leather pixie-boots in turn, she found that she liked what she felt.

She liked the feel of his lips on her toes through her soft, grey bootleather; she liked the sense of power and authority it gave her. Above all, she liked the footslave’s humble demeanour, and the way he was obliged to look her in the foot, rather than the eye; for she hated having to wear glasses and was very self-conscious about them!

Jane was quite surprised, however, at just how much she was liking her strange new sensations of absolute female power!

Slave Adrian was liking it too. He was already feeling very submissive and dutiful towards this bashful, young, bespectacled, spiky-haired blonde woman – precisely because she was so diffident and unassuming. He liked being in her self-effacing power, and could sense her secret pleasure in her new and unfamiliar position of having a man kissing her somewhat dusty and scuffmarked ankleboots.

It was early days – but the signs were good. The trainee-mistress and trainer-footslave both, suddenly, felt much more relaxed in each other’s company.

As an added bonus the young blonde woman’s light grey, leather pixie boots tasted and smelt nice. Somewhat musty, but ever so soft. They were clearly a much-loved and well-worn pair of boots, and that endeared them to slave Adrian all the more. For he knew he could help this girl to take proper care of her favourite pair of unremarkable and unpretentious boots; to remove some of those scuffmarks; to polish them up a bit.

He would do it all with his highly-skilled footslave mouth – a mouth made for feminine bootcare!

His only regret at the present time was that he had no idea whether or not the young, spiky-haired, blonde woman was wearing any socks inside her boots, due to her evident preference for demurely tucking the hems of her thick, blue, denim jeans into the folded-over tops of her pixie-style ankleboots.

She may well be wearing socks; in fact, on the balance of probabilities she almost certainly would be! But slave Adrian just couldn’t see them right now, whereas other of his fellow footslave-trainers were currently lapping up the sight of sweet, feminine socks inside the low-cut sneakers or ballet flats of their respective, new trainee-footmistresses. He therefore felt a temporary twinge of jealousy at this point – but not for long. All good things come to those humble footslaves who wait, and he was confident that he wouldn’t have to wait too long before he would get to see inside mistress Jane’s plain, grey, pull-on ankleboots.

Besides, the boots themselves were very easy on the footslave-eye, with all their leather creases and folds!

The chief female-trainer suddenly clapped her hands and addressed the assembled classroom of about 20 trainee-footmistresses and their respective charges:

‘OK ladies, please feel free to chat with your slaves and get to know them; explain to them what you expect from them over the next five days of this course; your foot needs and requirements; your likes and dislikes. I can assure you, ladies, they are all dying to know – for their lives may depend on pleasing and satisfying you! Ha! Ha!’

Jane looked down at her allocated slaveman who still had his balding, middle-aged head bowed humbly over her pixie-booted feet. She wondered what the chief trainer meant by that. Did this man’s life really depend on her now? Surely not! Slaves were never put to death in the Gynarchy – not even the most recalcitrant slaves. The severest punishment ever handed down by the Female Courts was known as the ‘living death’ of a life sentence in the slave-mines!

No – the chief trainer must have been joking. Nevertheless, the very thought of having this slaveman’s humble life in her delicate, feminine hands surprisingly thrilled sweet and diffident miss Jane to the core. It must have had something to do with his willingness to kiss her boots, and his evident subservience towards her. She had begun to despise him!

It was clear that he wasn’t going to speak first. Perhaps he wasn’t allowed to. He certainly shouldn’t be allowed to:

‘What is your name, slave?’

It was, probably, the first time that the shy and normally lacking in self-confidence miss Jane had ever taken the initiative in a conversation, let alone spoken directly to a slave. However, she quite liked the fact that she was required to lead the conversation, as the superior party to the discourse. It was a truly novel experience for her!

‘Oh pray mistress Jane, if it is pleasing to you, mistress Jane, this slave’s name is slave Adrian, most respected and beautiful mistress.’

Jane had to suppress a giggle of delight. She had never been spoken to like this before. ‘Plain Jane’ was how the freemen in her life often referred to her – not to her face, of course. But behind her back.

But she tended to agree with them. She did think of herself as rather plain – certainly not as a ‘most respected and beautiful mistress’; hence her self-conscious giggling fit of young-womanly laughter.

She decided to deflect attention from her embarrassment by having the slave at her feet – slave Adrian as she now knew him to be called – kiss her boots again. For she had very much enjoyed his first oral foray onto her boots, after her initial hesitancy.

We can say one thing for miss Jane – she was a quick learner, and already realised that declining to use his name whilst ordering him to kiss her boots again, having just asked him for his name, would only serve to emphasise her newfound young-womanly power and authority over him:

‘Well, slave, you may kiss my boots again. Kiss each of my boots 20 times please.’

She could have bitten her tongue almost as soon as the word ‘please’ emanated from her thin-lipped and unpainted mouth, for she instantly realised that it was a rudimentary mistake – to say ‘please’ to a slave! Ha! Ha! She’d be resorting to thanking him next!

She made a mental note to herself – must refrain from saying ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ to my new slave!

Slave Adrian was gallant enough a slave to let his new mistress’s verbal faux-pas pass unnoticed. Besides, he liked the sound of his new mistress’s voice – quite high-pitched and squeaky; very feminine; very authoritative.

He also made sure – in his humble and slavish monotone reply – to continue to address her by name, for she was a proper human-being and worth something; unlike him:

‘Yes mistress Jane. At once mistress Jane.’

He again lowered his lips to the rounded, scuffmarked toe of her – now obligingly outstretched – right, pixie boot and kissed it. He kissed it repeatedly, as he had been instructed by the rookie mistress.

Mistress Jane giggled again above him:

‘Ha! Ha! Make sure you kiss all the dirtiest bits of my boots, slave!’

‘Yes mistress Jane. This slave hears and obeys you, most beautiful mistress Jane.’

In actual fact the grey leather pixie-boots weren’t, sadly, all that dirty; just a bit dust-stained. A better prepared mistress would have deliberately dirtied up her boots in the street or in the park prior to coming on a course like this.

But then a better prepared mistress wouldn’t need to come on a course like this in the first place! It was a no win situation for the bootdirt-craving footslave.

Growing in confidence with every humble kiss she received to her pixie-boot toes, mistress Jane began to open up to the slave:

‘You will show respect to me at all times, slave, for I am determined to become a good slave-mistress.’

‘Yes mistress Jane…kiss…kiss…this slave will strive to be a good slave to the mistress…kiss…kiss…if it is so pleasing to you mistress Jane…kiss…kiss.’

‘You mustn’t show me up in class or in front of the others, slave. Just because I’m an inexperienced mistress it doesn’t mean I shan’t have you whipped if you embarrass or displease me, is that clear?’

‘Yes mistress Jane…kiss…kiss…Pray have mercy on this slave, mistress… kiss…kiss…Truly I am in your power, mistress…kiss…kiss.’

At this point he was on his sixth kiss to his new mistress’s left boot when the chief trainer approached the foot-courting couple:

‘Everything ok here, Jane? Is he to your satisfaction?’

Slave Adrian continued to kiss miss Jane’s left pixie boot – though even more respectfully and avidly at this point, as he didn’t want to be dismissed from his new mistress’s service so soon in the course. A trainee-mistress, it should be explained, can dismiss her footslave at any time during the five day course and have him replaced if he is no longer to her liking, and she can do so with the young-womanly satisfaction of knowing the sacked slave shall be soundly whipped – twenty lashes for every remaining day of the course – as an additional punishment for failing to please the trainee-mistress.

But Jane had no thoughts of dismissal in her blonde, spiky-haired, bespectacled head. She was becoming as attached to her footslave, as his mouth was becoming attached to the dusty, scuffmarked toes of her grey leather pixie-boots:

‘Oh yes thank you, Amanda. I think he’ll do nicely!’

‘Cool! But remember, Jane darling, you mustn’t be too complimentary about him in his presence. Try always to think of him as a piece of filth – a piece of male filth at your feet, fit only to lick the dirt off the soles of your boots. In a sense, he can do no right, Jane. For he’s just an inferior male! Do you get it?’

Slave Adrian almost wished he could temporarily interrupt kissing mistress Jane’s ankleboots in order to kiss 35 year old, chief-trainer mistress Amanda’s red and white striped, sneakered feet, for she had taken the words right out of his mouth. That was precisely how miss Jane must think of him – for it is the truth. He is not worthy to lick the dirt off the soles of her boots – if they had any dirt on them!

‘Oh…erm…yes, of course, Amanda. I see. Sorry! Thanks.’

‘Ha! Ha! No need to apologise, Jane dear. That’s what you’re here for – to learn how to treat a slave! Oh and by the way, speaking of treating slaves, hopefully you are wearing socks inside your boots, my dear, as we instructed?’

‘Erm...yes I am indeed.’

‘Good girl! Well, you might like to think about pulling them out over your boot-tops now, if they’ll stretch up that far. It’s always a good idea to let a footslave have eye-contact with your socks at all times if possible. It drives them wild – seeing your inner footwear as well as your outer footwear – and that makes them all the more devoted to your feet. Trust me, you’ll see! That’s my first tip of the day for you, Jane darling!’

‘Oh! Cool! Ok. Thanks for the tip, Amanda!’

Jane was very grateful for the more experienced woman’s friendly, helpful tip. She would never have thought of that – wearing her socks so that the slave could actually see their elasticated tops over the rims of her ankle-length pixie boots.

Slave Adrian, who by now had finished kissing each of miss Jane’s boots 20 times, was ever so grateful to mistress Amanda as well! He ached to kiss her red and white Academy sneakers in gratitude – especially as mistress Amanda’s own, snowy white sneaker-socks were just visible beneath the hem of her navy-blue tracksuit bottoms – another part of her Training Academy uniform!

And he did like a hint of white sneaker-sock on a dainty, feminine foot!

Jane, meanwhile, was about to lean down in order to pull up her socks from inside her ankleboots, when she stopped herself in her tracks. She suddenly realised that, even though the chief training mistress had seemingly moved on to the next trainee-mistress and resident footslave, she had just been set a sneaky test. Would she fall into the trap of adjusting her own socks – or get her new footslave to do it for her?

Jane smiled to herself, and sat back upright in her chair again:

‘Slave, pull up my socks so that they are just visible above the tops of my boots!’ she almost barked – and certainly loud enough for the chief training mistress to hear.

The latter smiled wryly as she continued to converse with the neighbouring trainee-footmistress. That blonde girl Jane was going to be alright!

Slave Adrian, needless to say, needed no further encouragement to get his hands on his new temporary-mistress’s socks:

‘Yes mistress Jane. At once mistress Jane. It will be an honour, mistress Jane.’

Her grey leather, pixie-booted feet were still, helpfully, stretched out before her, and so slave Adrian had little difficulty in getting his fingers down inside the upper rim of her right boot. Soon he could feel the softness of cotton over the relative roughness of denim, and he knew he had made contact with the blonde girl’s upper bootsock!

He gently grabbed the soft, cotton material and pulled it up to reveal the elasticated top of what appeared to be a black, ankle-length bootsock with a delightful row of little pink hearts all along the black, elasticated top. Thankfully the sock was long enough to be able to stay up a centimetre or so above the folded-over rim of the grey, leather pull-on ankleboot – still covering the hem of the blonde girl’s blue denim jean-leg.

‘Make sure the sock is straight, slave!’ demanded mistress Jane as much for the chief trainer’s benefit as the slave’s.

‘Yes mistress Jane. At once mistress Jane.’

When he had duly pulled up, and straightened, both pink-heart-motifed, black cotton boot socks over the tops of miss Jane’s right and left ankleboots, slave Adrian was blown away by the sight before him – blonde-girl, feminine, pink and black patterned bootsock over blue denim jeans and atop a scruffy pair of student-girl, scuffmarked, grey leather, pixie boots!

He couldn’t resist it! He simply had to seek the young, bespectacled, blonde woman’s female permission to pay servile lip-homage to her freshly straightened, heart-patterned sock-tops:

‘Oh pray mistress Jane…Oh pray mistress!… This slave truly admires the mistress’s black socks with their pretty pink hearts, and implores the mistress for permission to kiss the tops of her socks, if you would be so kind to a humble foot and sock slave, most beautiful and charming mistress Jane?’

Jane was impressed – not with the footslave’s humble begging, but with the chief trainer Amanda’s intimate knowledge in how to elicit such slavish devotion in a pathetic, male footslave with a mere glimpse of feminine sock! The slave’s whole demeanour was now one of earnest supplication – begging to kiss the heart-patterned, elasticated tops of her humble bootsocks.

She got the feeling he would willingly die for the privilege!

But – and this marked a step-change in trainee-mistress Jane’s mistressly psyche – it would indeed be a privilege for the slave to kiss her socks! A privilege he should have to earn – by serving her and pleasing her. And he hadn’t yet earned that privilege in her inexperienced estimation. He hadn’t had time – they’d only just been introduced!

Kissing her socks on a first footdate? Not likely! That would be much too intimate. What sort of a footmistress did she take him for? She was not yet ready to give him her pink hearts.

And so she authoritatively declined his request:

‘No, dirty slave, you may not kiss my socks. You are not worthy to kiss my socks. Not yet! Resume kissing my boots, and don’t stop until I tell you to!’

Slave Adrian was disappointed, yet elated. It was the right answer. Mistress Jane was quite correct to deny his lascivious slave-lips access to her socks so early on in their relationship.

He knew at that point that mistress Jane was going to pass the course. She was already developing the right attitude, even on lesson 1 of day 1 of her 5 day intensive training course as a future footmistress.

‘Yes mistress. At once mistress. Thank you mistress. God bless you mistress Jane.’

At least now, as he kissed her grey leather, pixie boots all over, he could see the tops of his new mistress’s pink and black bootsocks out of the corner of his eye.

Lesson 2 – Bootshining

The next formal lesson of the morning was boot and/or shoe cleaning, and after the initial mistress/slave introductions the chief training-mistress, mistress Amanda, stood behind a lectern at the front of the classroom and explained to the rookie-footmistresses what they now needed to do:

‘OK ladies – now that you have all been introduced to your slaves and you are hopefully, all feeling a bit more relaxed, it’s time to get those pretty shoes and boots tongue-shined! Now, I’ve noticed that some of you made the mistake of coming along to the Academy today with relatively clean footwear! Naughty young ladies!...’

A ripple of, slightly embarrassed, feminine laughter went through the classroom.

‘…Well, not to worry! We think of everything here at the Footmistress Training Academy, and if you care to look around the side of the room you’ll see containers of fresh muck and dirt from our college grounds for you to dirty your shoes and boots in! Just walk over to one of the containers and walk in it. Or, if you prefer, you can use one of the supplied sticks to smear the dirt onto a particular part of your shoes or boots. Remember – it will only be temporary. Our slaves are trained to lick dirt and muck off female footwear, and your nice boots or shoes will soon be sparkling again! Trust me ladies! Really go for it! Do your worst – and then we’ll make our footslaves do their best – which had better be good enough if they don’t want to feel the sting of our female whips on their bare backs, right?’

‘Yeah!...Right!...Way to go!..’ screamed a few excited female voices from amongst the trainee-footmistresses.

Not mistress Jane, though. She was still much too shy to shout out in a crowded room. She merely smiled smugly to herself and examined her plain grey pixie boots on her feet – thinking about exactly where she would smear on some Academy-supplied mud. She was thinking it would be nice to smear some mud over the scuffmarks on the toe areas, since, presumably, the mud would stick better to scuffed leather, as opposed to the smoother leather higher up, and it would, therefore, be harder to get off?

She wanted to make life difficult for her new training-slave; show him who was boss; cover his lips in her superior boot-mud and, hopefully, have him tongue-shine her boots until he could see his mud-spattered lips in their reflection!

Jane was surprised at how quickly such feelings of absolute power were corrupting her normally sweet and kind nature! Or was she just discovering her real character for the first time?

Either way she was one of the first to get to her pixie-booted feet and make her way over to the nearest muddy container lying alongside one of the classroom walls at floor level.

Slave Adrian, of course, his fate now tied to this young trainee-mistress and her footwear, followed dutifully behind her on his hands and knees – keeping his nose to her heels; to flat, grey, pixie-boot heel.

He admired the various creases and folds in the young woman’s wrinkly, grey boot leather as she made her way across the room to the makeshift mud-bath, and contemplated how difficult it would be to extract any mud from those multitudinous little leather creases with his tongue. But he was certainly up for the challenge – or rather down for it; down on his hands and knees!

Miss Jane, meanwhile, made judicious use of the mud-smearing stick in front of his face as she had quite definite ideas as to where exactly the mud should be spread on her hitherto relatively clean boots. As we already know, she had decided to plaster the scuffmarked toe-areas in mud, but she seemed equally keen to deliver long streaks of wet mud along the insteps of her boots, and on the bottoms of the rounded, flat heels.

Slave Adrian made a point of studying exactly where the mud was being deposited. He did well to, for his mouth would soon be required to divest those pretty, grey ankleboots of their fresh, college-green muddiness. If truth be told he was kind of hoping that miss Jane might even, inadvertently, splash some wet mud onto the now exposed tops of her pink and black socks – the socks he had so neatly pulled up out of the tops of her pixie boots – just so that his lips would finally have an excuse to venture onto the soft-looking, black cotton sock material, giving him his first hoped-for taste of his new mistress’s more intimate, inner footwear.

But miss Jane was no slouch – and she was evidently deft with a muddy stick; sadly, not a single trace of brown mud went anywhere near her socks – or even anywhere near the tops of her folded-over pixie boots. Slave Adrian’s tongue would be well and truly kept low, and would merely be required to concentrate its efforts on her now muddy, grey leather boot-toes, boot-heels and boot-insteps.

He hid his disappointment well as he crawled after miss Jane’s muddy boots back towards her classroom seat – particularly as a globule of mud splashed off the back of her left heel and hit him right in the eye. He liked that – being the human mudguard for the back of mistress Jane’s now filthy-dirty pixie boots!

Once Jane, and all the other trainee-footmistresses, were back in their seats – their respective footslaves kneeling patiently in front of them with their heads bowed low over muddy boots and shoes and ready for action, the chief training-officer, mistress Amanda, gave the ladies their instructions in how to make their slaves begin:

‘OK, ladies!...When you’re ready just order your slave to start tongue-shining your dirty boots or shoes! Feel free to point to any particular areas you wish your slave to concentrate on, and remember to warn him of the punishment that awaits him if he fails to please you – the terrible punishment of the stinging, female whip! Our whip-girls are waiting by the side of the room. If any of you require your slave to be whipped please don’t hesitate to call a whip-girl over. Believe me, ladies, they can’t wait to get stuck into the slaves for you! Ha! Ha!’

The appearance of the whip-girls – junior trainers in their Training Academy ‘uniforms’ consisting of navy-blue tracksuits and, appropriately enough, red and white ‘trainers’ – always sent a shiver down the spineless slave Adrian. For what the similarly-attired, chief training-mistress, mistress Amanda, was saying was perfectly correct – the Training Academy whip-girls just loved to whip; any excuse. Mistress Jane probably didn’t know it yet, but with just a click of her fingers she could have her slave sorely whipped at her pixie-booted feet, and she wouldn’t have to even get up out of her classroom seat!

Yes - the arrival of the smiling whip-girls made each and every slave in the room – including slave Adrian – absolutely determined to do a good job on his trainee-mistress’s muddy boots or shoes.

Slave Adrian, like all the other training-slaves, politely awaited his trainee-mistress’s orders:

‘Slave, shine my boots. Clean off all that mess with your tongue, and start by licking the toe of my right boot – here! I want to see my face in it!’

Mistress Jane was leaning down and pointing with her dainty, but chewed, right index fingernail to the muck she herself had just spread onto the rounded, scuffmarked toe area of her now stretched-forward, right pixie boot. It was a boot that had been lovingly and carefully prepared for the mouth of her new slave. She hoped he would appreciate all her diligent, boot-muddying efforts.

Slave Adrian did indeed appreciate them – very much so, and said as much to his superior mistress seated above him:

‘Oh pray mistress Jane! Oh yes mistress Jane! At once mistress Jane! This slave is honoured to tongue-shine the disgusting, muddy boot-toe of his superior mistress, if it is so pleasing to you most kind and powerful mistress Jane.’

And with that he buried his sycophantic lips in her pixie-boot mud, and sucked and licked.

He knew the mud was coming off the feminine boot-toe and into his male mouth because he could soon feel the coarse scuffmarks in the young, blonde woman’s bootleather underneath his tongue. But even though his tongue was doing what it had been told, he was fearful – fearful because he did not think, with all his footslave experience, that he would be able to make mistress Jane’s boot-toe shine to the extent that she could, as she herself had put it, ‘see her face in it.’

The mistress’s pixie boots were matt grey – not patent grey; and no amount of demudifying or tongue-polishing would ever be able to make them ‘shine’ enough to actually reflect her pretty, blonde-spiky face in them!

But did that mean he was heading for a whipping? Would mistress Jane have him punished for not achieving the impossible – to save face, as it were, from not being able to see her face reflected in her pixie boots? Would she summon over one of the youthful and strong-armed whip-girls and make the latter’s day? Or would she merely pretend that she was pleased with the footslave’s efforts on her boots, and spare his weak and feeble, middle-aged back from some freshly-smarting whip-blushes?

It was all part of the tension of being a Training Academy footslave – a tension that slave Adrian actually revelled in! He liked the fact that he didn’t know how miss Jane would react. It kept him on his toes – or rather on her toes; on her booted toes, as he did his floor-level best to shine up the essentially unshinable, grey leather pixie boots.

His mouth may have been a mudbath by the time he had finished tongue-shining mistress Jane’s pixie boots, and the boots may have been well and truly divested of their mud and dirt by the time he had finished his humble and degrading work, but his fickle fate still hung in the balance. For, as she inspected her boots, miss Jane could not possibly fail to notice that she was still unable to see her face in them.

The crunch moment came as each whip-girl worked her way down the line to check whether each trainee-mistress was satisfied with their personal footslave’s efforts. As the whip-girl’s red and white trainers came into view beside his face, slave Adrian braced himself, and prepared himself for possible punishment by furtively observing a tiny slither of white, uniform sneaker-sock beneath the girl’s navy-blue tracksuit hem. Now at least I shall be able to visualize my female whipper’s socks whilst I am being punished by her, he thought to himself, pathetically.

But the brown leather, single-tailed punishment whip continue to trail on past him along the training room floor, as he heard his magnanimous and beautiful mistress Jane above him declare her complete satisfaction with her slave’s bootcleaning efforts.

She had lied for him – lied to save his back-skin!

Not for the first time, slave Adrian felt truly humbled in his new mistress’s presence – and honoured to be swallowing her bootmud; the bootmud of a sweet and kind, forgiving mistress, who would seemingly overlook his abject failings providing he did his boot-level best and treated her feet and footwear with the male-slavish respect they so richly deserved:

‘Oh thank you! Thank you mistress. God bless you mistress Jane. Thank you for sparing me the whip, most gentle and kind mistress Jane!’ he whispered up to her.

And with that slave Adrian licked the last vestiges of his mistress Jane’s bootmud off his lips, and showered her grey leather pixie boots with truly grateful kisses.

For her part Jane just smiled down at the grovelling slave who was fussing and fawning over her boots. She resolved, there and then, to whip him herself this very evening for his manifest failure to shine her boots sufficiently well so that she could see her face in them.

After all, had he not effectively disobeyed her orders?

Yes – she would have to borrow one of the whip-girls’ whips after tea!

Lesson 3 – Stinky Sock Worship

Later, at lunchtime on the first day of the course, slave Adrian knelt beside mistress Jane’s booted and socked feet in the communal dining room as she subconsciously tucked her feet around each other beneath her and tucked heartily into her shepherd’s pie and broccoli.

Jane was getting to know some of her fellow trainee-mistresses seated around her at the communal dining table. Slave Adrian could hear the girls seated above him talking excitedly about the next lesson which was due to take place immediately after lunch – that of ‘Stinky Sock Worship’ – hence he too was getting excited.

His slave nose and lips would soon be making contact with his new mistress’s ultra-pretty pink and black bootsocks – the socks now partially on show in front of his kneeling face!

In preparation for the ‘Stinky Sock worship’ session the trainee-footmistresses had each been requested in advance of the course to wear a particular pair of socks of their choosing for a whole week, and to then bring that pair of socks in a sealed, plastic bag with them to the Academy – putting them back on their feet on the first morning of the training course.

Being a good girl, Jane had followed the instructions to the letter, and her feet now felt unusually slimy and sticky inside her 7 day old, unwashed, pink and black bootsocks.

The instructions to the trainee-footmistresses had specifically suggested patterned socks for this particular session – though they hadn’t spelled out why. But that was precisely why Jane had chosen a pair of black bootsocks with the pink heart motifs along the elasticated tops. She wouldn’t normally wear such outlandish socks!

Jane noticed that many of her fellow trainee-mistresses were wearing ballet flats or sneakers with their sweet, patterned socks, but she herself had never been a ballet flats or sneakers kind of girl; she was very much an ‘ankleboots’ girl – plain and formal in her demeanour. She certainly wasn’t what you would call the ‘sporty’ or ‘fun-loving’ type.

She was basically a quiet, home-loving plain socks kind of girl!

The final instruction to the trainee-mistresses for that day had requested that they not bathe their feet in the morning; it was clearly designed to be a session in which the Academy footslaves were to be well and truly humbled by the nasty, tart smell of their mistresses’ stinky and sweaty feet and socks as they were required to worship them.

Jane was quite looking forward to this post-luncheon, sock-worshipping session – though she hoped that her feet and socks would not outstink all the other mistresses; that would be mortifying!

For his humble part, slave Adrian was just kneeling quietly and reflectively beside miss Jane’s cute, pink-and-black-socked and grey-pixie-booted feet underneath the Academy’s communal breakfast table, admiring the socks’ heart-motifed, feminine beauty and his trainee-mistress’s well-turned, pasty-white anklebones which were now, thanks to her seated position at the dining table, just visible beneath the hems of her blue denim jean hems.

He was almost sorry when it came time to follow his new mistress back into the classroom after lunch. He could have quite happily knelt and stared at her boot/sock/skin combination for the rest of the day.

But greater prizes awaited him at the ‘Stinky Sock Worship’ session!

Mistress Amanda – the Chief Trainer – was once again the ring-mistress in the afternoon’s proceedings, and she made sure her trainee-mistresses got straight down to work just as soon as they had all digested their lunch and were settled back at their individual desks in the training room, personal footslaves to heel.

‘OK, ladies – good afternoon! I trust you all enjoyed lunch?’

‘Yes thank you, Amanda,’ chorused the would-be mistresses of the very near future.

‘OK ladies, for this afternoon’s session we are going to concentrate on making our footslaves pay their respects to our smelly, sweaty socks by worshipping them. Or, more accurately, by ‘nosing’ and ‘nuzzling’ them. I hope you are all wearing dirty and sweaty socks inside your shoes, boots or sneakers today?’

‘Yes miss!’ chorused the 20 or so trainee-footmistresses gleefully, including miss Jane.

‘Cool! Well, before we start, can anyone tell me the difference between ‘nosing’ and ‘nuzzling’ a lady’s sock?’

‘I know, madam,’ chirped up a young, bespectacled woman from behind Jane. ‘Nosing is when they just have to trace their ugly slave-noses along or across a line of stitching in your socks; and nuzzling is when they have to affectionately rub your socked feet all over with their noses.’

‘Mmm… not bad, Paula. You’re certainly right about the nosing; but nuzzling doesn’t necessarily have to mean rubbing your socks all over. You might make the slave nuzzle just one particular area of your socks – such as the heel area; or the reinforced toe area. Also, with nuzzling, your slave is required to audibly whine and fawn over your socks, whereas nosing them should be done in respectful silence. But the point is that both nosing and nuzzling are elements of a footslave’s worship of, and admiration for, his mistress’s superior socks – along with kissing and sniffing the sock, of course.

The other crucial thing to say, of course, is that both nosing and nuzzling have to be done whilst you are still wearing your socks. If you are making him worship your socks after you have taken them off it is just referred to as ‘sniffing’ or ‘kissing’ or ‘worship’, or whatever other term you want to use for it – but not nosing or nuzzling…’

Like most of the trainee-mistresses, Jane was making written notes in her exercise book.

‘…And the dirtier, and stinkier, your socks the better, ladies, for it all adds to your footslave’s sense of degradation and powerlessness at your superior, female feet…’

A ripple of feminine laughter goes around the training room.

‘…You’ll be pleased to hear, ladies, that we have individual sock-worship booths for this session, so no need to feel embarrassed by the strong smell of your dirty, unwashed socks on your feet this afternoon! Only your personal footslaves will get to smell them in the privacy of your individual sock-booth!’

A palpable wave of shy-female relief seemed to spread around the room. No young woman wants the public embarrassment of having sweaty, smelly socks on her feet – except, of course, in front of her personal footslave.

The Academy had thought of everything!

‘OK, ladies – so I’d now like you to each follow me to the sock-worship booths, where I want you to begin by reading the instruction booklets inside the booths, and then ordering your slave to first nose your dirty socks. As Paula rightly said, that means ordering your slave to simply trace his nose along a particular area, or line of stitching, in your socks, such as the elasticated top of your socks.

I must stress that you are the ones who are totally in control of this scenario. You are the mistress! You chose your socks. Therefore it’s entirely up to you whether or not you take off your shoes or boots whilst you have your socks nosed. All I would ask is that if you keep your outer footwear on for the nosing, you take off your shoes or boots for the nuzzling session, which we’ll do afterwards – or vice versa. It’s your choice, ladies!’

Miss Jane, being somewhat shy and diffident, like many of her fellow trainee-mistresses on this course – even in front of humble footslaves – had already decided to keep her boots on for the preliminary sock-nosing session. She would impose her unfettered sock-stink on the slave during the subsequent sock-nuzzling session, after she had built up a bit more mistressly confidence.

She was delighted to note, however, that the individual sock-booth she and slave Adrian had now entered was completely private and enclosed, and was also amused to see that it contained an optional nose-plug for her own, delicate nostrils, should the stench of her dirty socks prove too much for her feminine sensitivities!

No such protection for the male footslave’s nose, however! Ha! Ha!

The booth contained a leather recliner on which Jane could lie back and relax in true mistressly-fashion, her anklebooted and socked feet resting over the edge of the business end of the recliner where the footslave was required to kneel.

Inside the sock-booth there was also a laminated booklet giving instructions to the trainee-mistress on precisely how to order a slave to nose or nuzzle her socks. Jane read through it, and then followed the instructions to the letter:

‘Dirty slave, you will now nose the tops of my socks. Begin with the right sock, and run your nose all around the elasticated top of my sock.’

‘Yes mistress Jane. At once mistress Jane.’

Slave Adrian had been expecting this. It was the obvious place to start – with the extreme, vertical-stitched, upper rim of the short, pink and black bootsock. It was also, of course, for him, the most dangerous part of the sweet, female sock, for it was the part closest to the mistress’s bare, smooth, white ankleskin – now that her blue denim jean-hems had ridden up thanks to her reclining position – and therefore fraught with danger should miss Jane either inadvertently or deliberately move her foot whilst his nose was tracing its humble way around the pink-shaped hearts on her black sock-elastic.

And so it was with great respect and caution that he lowered his face to the middle of mistress Jane’s right sock and placed the tip of his slave-nose directly onto one of the slightly raised, pink heart-shapes that adorned the thin, upper rim of her otherwise plain, black bootsock.

He diligently traced his nose from left to right across the pink heart-shape, before moving onto the black cotton material that surrounded it, and then onto the next pink heart; and then the next – and so on, all the way round to the back of her pink and black, anklesocked heelbone.

This area of sock also gave him his first hint of the unpleasantly sharp and pungent aroma of 7 day old, stale, feminine footsweat as he respectfully, but audibly, breathed in the aroma emanating from inside the leather gap at the back of miss Jane’s matt-grey pixie-boot through his girlsock-worshipping nose.

For her part, trainee-mistress Jane was finding the experience of having her upper sock nosed somewhat ticklish, and she had to stop herself from giggling. It did make her feel strong and powerful, though – having a pathetic, male slave trace his nose along the very top of her short sock, and only the top! How demeaning for him! How degrading! What a loser he was – having to trace his ugly slave nose obediently along the upper rim of a girl’s, sweaty and dirty, pink and black bootsock! Ha! Ha!

She liked it!

Se had to admit to herself, however, that he was very good at his humble job – not once did his bare, male nose stray off the pink hearts or vertical black stitching onto her bare, feminine legflesh. If it had, the instructions in the laminated sockbooth-booklet were that she was to immediately press the buzzer on the wall of the sock-booth and summon an Academy whip-girl to hastily punish the footslave.

The thought occurred to her that she could, of course, pretend that the dirty footslave had brushed his nose against the pores of her bare leg – if she felt so inclined. She was, after all, a mistress now – and her word was law. If she said he brushed her bare footskin with his nose, he had. Even if he hadn’t!

But, as we have already established, Jane was not a cruel or malicious girl. She was a fair-minded, fair-haired young woman, if a bit spiky at times, and had no desire to see her slave punished for something he hadn’t actually done.

Not at the moment, anyway.

Emboldened by the slave’s humble and unquestioning sock-nosing of the pink and black themed, upper rim of her socks, Jane was keen to move on to the second part of the intimate sock-worshipping session – the even more intimate sock nuzzling!

She read the laminated, sock-booth instructions again, and arrogantly issued her orders down to the pathetic footslave at her booted and socked feet:

‘Dirty slave, you will now remove my boots from my feet and nuzzle my socks. Begin by nuzzling the area covering my outer anklebone on my right foot, and remember to whine and fawn like a pathetic, wounded animal while you are nuzzling the sock. Begin!’

‘Yes mistress Jane. At once mistress Jane!’

Slave Adrian, being a trainer-footslave of many years’ experience, had no compunctions about removing a sweet, young, spiky-haired blonde woman’s, grey leather pixie-boots, even though he knew his nose would soon be assailed with the stale, sweaty stench of her 7 day old, moist, unwashed socks. Being a humble, Training-Academy footslave, he was now used to living in sweaty, contaminated air, and would not baulk at it, since it was an environment entirely fitting for a young woman’s personal sockslave!

Sure enough, when the first scruffy and scuffmarked pixie-boot came off miss Jane’s pink and black, besocked foot with a whoosh, his footslave-nostrils were assaulted by the familiar, unpleasant aroma of warm, stale, stinky, feminine foot-air. But he did not flinch.

Unlike the owner of the foot-stench! Jane had to laugh at the awful stink emanating up from her 7 day old socks, but she also quickly reached for the nearby nose-plugs. She could not tolerate her own, foot-greasy sock-stink – not in such a confined space - but, thankfully, she didn’t have to! Only the footslave had to live with it; and in it!

The instruction booklet had warned her to make sure she delivered her orders in full to the slave before inserting her protective nose plugs (if applicable) since nasal-sounding orders were not considered best practice when uttering mistressly commands. A mistress should sound clear and authoritative when barking down her orders at a slave.

Jane, therefore, just sat back, relaxed, and enjoyed the sight, sound and feel of the pathetic footslave nuzzling her specified area of pink-patterned, black bootsock, blissfully unconcerned at the poor slave’s humiliation and suffering at being engulfed in her precious, 7 day-old sock-stink!

She lay back and thought of the Gynarchy in nasal-protected bliss whilst slave Adrian whined and whimpered and affectionately nuzzled the stretched area of stinky, black cotton sock over her prominent, outer ankle bone on her shapely right foot.

God this was heavenly – for both the mistress and the slave, for it was a time-honoured demonstration of female power and superiority over the humble male, as the latter paid slavish homage to the humblest and stinkiest garment on his mistress’s personage – her sock – by coyly rubbing his nose against it, whilst whining and whimpering for more.

It was a beautiful scene of pure girlsock-power, and it was undoubtedly also a quintessential act of true foot-worship on the part of the male footslave; worship of the stinky, female sock!

Jane reached for her nearby, illustrated, glossy-pink, Training Academy prospectus and read through the various lessons that she would be taking during the coming 5 days of her residential, trainee-footmistress course:

Lesson 4 – Modes of address between mistress and slave; proper mistress/slave demeanour;

Lesson 5 - Laundry Duties (including socks and tights washing by slave-mouth);

Lesson 6 - Pedicure;

Lesson 7 - The physical disciplining of male footslaves; the power of the female whip!

Lesson 8 - The Theory and Practice of Perpetuant, Intermittant and Celibant footmistress-lifestyles (with guest speakers representing each mistressly preference);

Lesson 9 – The History of Footslavery (lecture by a visiting, female professor from the Female University of Barbaria);

Lesson 10 - Practical Experience (a day out to the cinema and a restaurant – with personal footslave in tow!);

Footmistress Graduation Ceremony;

Visit to the Academy’s Slave-Market to purchase a personal footslave (optional).

Shy and retiring trainee-footmistress Jane smiled evilly to herself as she put down her glossy prospectus and once again watched slave Adrian suffering slavishly at her stinky-socked feet through her increasingly steamy glasses. Yes, she was going to very much enjoy this footmistress training course. She already felt transformed into a strong and mistressful woman – and it was only day one!

She decided there and then that she would borrow one of the Academy whips and soundly whip slave Adrian tonight – in the privacy of her college bedchamber, just to show him who’s boss!

The End