The Chinese Waitress's Devoted, Lifelong Footservant
The Chinese Waitress’s Devoted, Lifelong Footservant
中國女服務員的投入，終身的，腳的僕人
1. Happy Days
I bless the day I first met her!
I can well remember my introduction to my lifelong footmistress, mistress Hui-Liang – some 30 years ago now; well, they say you never forget your first footkiss! She was 21, and I was 40. She purchased me at the unofficial slave market in the rundown, Chinatown area of the city – and that first footkiss took place even before the auctioneer-mistress had signed off the paperwork.
I remember how impressed I was by my new owner – slim; petite; oriental (unsurprisingly – given the location of the slave market!); with pitch black, shoulder-length hair and a winsome smile on her pretty, round-faced features. Admittedly, she looked somewhat ‘geekish’ in her thick, black-rimmed glasses – geeky and intelligent, though I later discovered my mistress Hui-Liang, bless her, is actually of very average intelligence!
Her initial impression of geekiness was compounded by her unusual dress-sense – a short, cream-coloured dress reaching down to her knees; matching, flared, below the knee culottes; and turquoise-blue and yellow striped anklesocks with brown, strappy, flat-heeled, open-toed sandals!
I remember thinking – as I knelt forwards to kiss the bright yellow, reinforced-cotton toe area of the exposed, stripy sock on my new owner’s smilingly outstretched, right foot – how incongruous such a pair of brightly-coloured anklesocks looked with the rest of her, rather bland-coloured, sartorial ensemble. I remember thinking too how nice and soft her sock was, as the cotton material crumpled beneath my lips in between her dainty, unpainted toenails (I could see the white calcium of her big toenail beneath the yellow sock!). And I noted too how her feet didn’t smell! She was, at least, a clean girl, with good foot-hygiene, even if she was, seemingly, a bit eccentric and ‘flaky’.
The left sock, when I kissed it, confirmed that the right foot had not been a fluke, and that she was indeed a nice, clean, young woman in the foot-hygiene department. Truly it would be an honour to help keep her pretty, Chinese feet and socks in the condition to which they are clearly accustomed!
My new, oriental mistress certainly seemed a pleasant enough young woman, chatting happily and excitedly to the auction room staff about her new purchase (me!) in broken English – not just for my benefit, but because the auction house was owned by the Russian mafia, with Russian staff, and English is the lingua franca amongst the various ethnicities of the Gynarchy. And my new owner appeared to be perpetually smiling – never serious; even when choosing her complimentary whip!
Somewhat ominously for me she gigglingly requested a ‘whip with all the attachments’ – by which she meant a three-thonged, brown leather, Russian knout with several, severe knots embedded up and down the individual lashes; I must say, it was a good choice on her part, if painful for me, as she still has it after all these years; and it still packs a punch, despite now being somewhat frayed after repeated applications to my lazy and incompetent, footslave back!
I remember, in those first precious moments of introduction to my new mistress, cupping her dainty, sandaled feet in my hands, one after the other, in the auction room, and kissing her on the garishly coloured socks even more fervently just as soon as she had started running the vicious-looking thongs of her newly-acquired, barely legal slave-whip through her delicate, oriental fingers above me.
My fearful, feverish kisses to her wriggling sock-toes clearly delighted her:
‘Ha! Ha! Slave flightened of Hui-Liang! Ha! Ha! He flightened of whip!’ she had exclaimed, charmingly naively, to the slave auctioneer’s assistant, miss Tatiana – a cruel and hard-faced, young, blonde-haired, Russian woman, who was attired in her auction-room assistant’s ‘uniform’ consisting of a cheap, imported, black and white striped, Russian-made tracksuit with elasticated hems at the ankles; an equally cheap-looking, nominally white, low-cut, lace-up, pair of East-European sneakers; and short, pleasingly white, American-style, sneaker socks (I must admit, I still remember every last detail of those auction-room ‘uniform’ sneakers and socks of the various, Mafia-run, female, auction assistants!)
Miss Tatiana had ably and enthusiastically assisted my new, charming, oriental mistress in her selection of her complimentary slave-whip to go with her newly-acquired slave purchase, and was evidently pleased at her oriental customer’s reaction to my reaction to the knotted knout being teasingly trailed across my bare, kneeling back:
‘Ha! Ha! Yes, madam – the dirty slave is now realising that he is completely in your power, and at your mercy! Ha! Ha! Congratulations, you the new slave-owning, Chinese madam!’
Blonde miss Tatiana almost sounded jealous in her cute, Russian accent (being just 19 years old she was still legally too young to own a slave herself; but what’s the betting her criminal-underworld employers will soon give her one for free? A perk of her black-market job, I suppose!)
Speaking of cute accents, you will have noticed, of course, as I did, my new mistress’s pronounced, Chinese accent! A beautiful accent – which she still has to this day, since, as I discovered, she tends to speak exclusively in Cantonese with her immediate friends and family, only resorting to English to bully and boss me about, or when dealing with other citizens of the Gynarchy in shops etc. (since, as I explained earlier, English is, perhaps fortuitously for me, the lingua franca of the Gynarchy!) Even her place of work – a Chinese restaurant – is almost exclusively Chinese speaking; all the waitresses are, like her, Chinese – and so are the majority of the clientele, since the restaurant is located right in the somewhat seedy heart of Barbaria’s old Chinatown district!
But I digress! Back to those first, halcyon days of my early bondage to mistress Hui-Liang’s pretty, Chinese feet.
I was gratified to discover that my comely, Chinese waitress-mistress didn’t wear her geeky-looking sandals and garishly stripy socks all the time. In the restaurant where she worked, for example, she wore a waitress’s uniform consisting of a grey top; a pair of light grey, bell-bottom slacks; plain, black leather loafers; and full-length, white anklesocks. I, of course, became quickly accustomed to having to follow my Chinese waitress-mistress to heel everywhere she walked in the restaurant – crawling humbly behind her on my hands and knees, with my face staring at her shapely, white-socked, oriental heel-tendons above the backs of her flat, black leather loafers. And so I got to see repeated glimpses of the backs of my Chinese mistress’s white-socked feet beneath those flapping, light grey, bell-bottom, trouser hems effectively every time she moved (which she did quite a lot of, being a hardworking waitress in a busy, city-centre, Chinese restaurant!)
I must say – I liked her white, working socks very much, even though they were a bit grubby around the edges (grubbier than miss Tatiana’s had been!) It wasn’t that they were inherently unclean or dirty – as we have already established my mistress Hui-Liang is quite a foot-fastidious young, Chinese woman. No, their apparent grubbiness was because quite the opposite was true – they looked somewhat grey and grubby beneath her flapping, grey-uniform trouser hems precisely because they had been regularly washed after every wearing; first of all in my mouth (the pre-wash); and then in an automatic washing machine, in the nearby Chinese laundromat!
It was humiliating, though, to be thought of by others as a lazy and incompetent footslave, who had failed to maintain the crisp, pure whiteness of his hardworking, Chinese mistress-waitress’s socks! And that impression wasn’t helped by the fact that my mistress’s plain black leather, loafer shoes frequently became grubby and scuffmarked too, working hard, as they did, on the often grimy floor of the Chinese restaurant (my mistress Hui-Liang didn’t – doesn’t – just wait on tables; she cleans and polishes the tables and floors as well, though not always as assiduously as she cleans her bare feet – or rather, has me clean them –at home!)
How the regular, Chinese restaurant patrons tutted at my apparent footslavish neglect of my delightful and charming, young, bespectacled Chinese waitress-mistress’s seemingly unkempt, black loafer-shoes and white anklesocks as she went about her daily, waitressing business! And how many of those critical, Cantonese commentators exhorted her to whip me harder, and instil some footslavish due diligence into me? (I shall never know, for I’m ashamed to say I still can’t speak a word of Cantonese, not even after all these years of devoted foot-servitude to a female member of the Cantonese community!)
And for sure, there was plenty more room for angry whip-marks on my back in those early footslave-days! I could probably have counted on just the fingers of one hand how many times my naturally sweet and kind, Chinese mistress utilised her multi-thonged, knotted whip on my bare back! She just wasn’t used to applying the whip, even giggling and laughing at her own whip-handling ineptitude as she amateurishly endeavoured to discipline my back for some perceived misdemeanour or other!
Ah yes – happy days, those first few years of innocent bondage at my mistress Hui-Liang’s merciful feet; sparse of whip and full of white sock; a footservant’s dream!
2. Marriage
That all changed, however, some 4 years later when my mistress Hui-Liang met and married her first husband – master-sir Cheng-Lei.
I first noticed the change in my mistress whilst they were courting. She would insist, before she went out on a date with him, on reminding me to keep quiet, and very much in the background down at her heel level. She did not want her new, Chinese boyfriend getting jealous of me, and my intimate proximity to her feet – albeit her fully-shod feet!
And that was the other thing – my mistress Hui-Liang, now that she was looking for a sexual partner – started to dress to impress the free male (as opposed to the humble footservant) – and that meant stylish, knee-length, spike-heeled and pointy-toed, brown leather stretchboots over skinny-tight, blue jeans. All very well – but it meant I was no longer afforded an unimpeded view of my mistress’s grubby-white worksocks (which, at least, she still wore inside her boots; I know that because I had to put her socks on, and take them off, her oriental feet every day; incidentally, in case you were wondering, the brightly-coloured blue and yellow stripy socks, and cheap, brown leather, strappy sandals, of the auction-room days, had, sadly, long since disappeared from her once-geeky wardrobe!)
Master-sir Cheng-Lei, you see, liked sexy boots on a woman; he rather fancied my mistress in long, leather kneeboots – and since he was now very much the main man in her life, what he liked he got, regardless of my irrelevant feelings in the matter!
He also liked to see me whipped, and badgered his pretty fiancée to go on a professional whipping course, so that she could learn how to stripe my back properly with her hitherto under-deployed, multithonged and cruelly knotted, brown leather knout! My naturally sweet and whip-averse mistress Hui-Liang prevaricated somewhat on this particular stipulation by her bloodthirsty fiancée, but she did, eventually, relent and go on such a course after they were married – some two years after they were married, in fact.
Things were never quite the same after that!
3. The Whipping Years!
My Chinese footmistress returned from her week-long whipping course fired up and ready to whip! She immediately instituted her so-called ‘new, harsh regime’, which consisted of masking me with a permanent, green-rubbery, footfool mask; canguing me in a heavy, wooden neck-collar; and whipping me every two days – regardless of whether or not I had done anything to merit the whip! What’s more, her whipping technique was now admittedly much improved – causing me the greatest amount of pain possible with each, expertly-delivered and considered stroke of the knotted, three-thonged knout.
She now seemed much less giggly and girlish about punishing me also; mind you, she was, by now, 27 years old, and I was 46! Master-sir Cheng-Lei, meanwhile, was only 25 – a much younger, and fitter, man than me!
I simultaneously resented – and admired – my mistress Hui-Liang’s harsh, new regime; for I knew, in my heart of hearts, that the mask, and the cangue, and the repeated whippings were good for me – they all helped to keep me on my Chinese mistress’s toes! And yet, those toes were now sharp, pointy and painted – not soft, round and innocently unvarnished, like they had previously been. And, even though they were still frequently covered in grubby-white worksock (for she never gave up her job as a waitress; not even whilst she was pregnant, or after she gave birth), I never got to see that sock – not whilst my married, Chinese mistress had her stylish, knee-length, brown leather boots on, which was now for most of the day, including during her long, hard shifts in the restaurant!
Sure, the white socks now reeked of dampness and sweat at the end of the working day when I got to pull off her spiked-heeled, pointy-toed, brown leather stretchboots in preparation for her lovemaking with the master-sir, but that was, in my humble view, scant consolation for having to stare at the relatively boring outsides of a pair of dark brown, leather kneeboots all day long. Admittedly, the soft and malleable, brown stretch-bootleather contained multitudinous creases and folds – a bit like my mistress’s soft, grubby-white, cotton anklesocks deep down inside the leather – but it’s not the same; the creases in her socks were always smaller, neater and somehow more enthralling – for a foot-thrall!
But then, I just had to accept that my personal footmistress was a married woman now, catering exclusively to her beloved husband’s tastes; and her husband, being a somewhat kinky free man, liked to see her in long, sexy, calf-hugging, black leather kneeboots; not short, grubby-white anklesocks!
My one big consolation during these darkest of days was that my mistress and master-sir went for regular runs in the local park – during which times my fit and healthy, young mistress wore a delightful pair of low-top, light grey and pink, lace-up sneakers and dark blue anklesocks with tiny, yellow spots on them. I loved the regular, early-morning order to fetch my mistress’s pink and grey running shoes and dark blue, yellow-spotty socks – regardless of whether or not that ignominious order was delivered by the mistress herself, or by her mocking husband! Like Pavlov’s dog I would salivatingly go fetch my mistress’s running socks and sneakers, and lovingly put them on her pretty, Chinese feet beneath her tight black cotton, ankle-length leggings – ready for her joint jog with her fit and manly, younger husband.
Mind you, I always had a job keeping up with her as she ran through the park alongside her sport-loving husband! You must remember I was some twenty five years their senior, and scurrying to heel behind a fit and healthy, young Chinese woman’s running sneakers is never easy on one’s middle-aged hands and knees – especially with a chafing, heavy wooden cangue around one’s scrawny, publicly enslaved neck!
Indeed, my failure to keep up with her pink-sneakered heels was a frequent source of my mistress Hui-Liang’s newfound opportunities to practice her dexterity with the knout; plus, of course, whipping me helped her to burn off even more calories – not that she needed to; she was still skinny and shapely, even after childbirth. Only during her actual pregnancy had she suffered from swollen and fat, calf-muscles and ankles!
4. Divorce & Remarriage
Those darkest days for me ended when my poor mistress Hui-Liang experienced her own, dark days. She separated from her husband at the age of just 32, and, for a while, became a single parent.
For me, however, speaking entirely selfishly, things mightily improved, as my abandoned Chinese mistress – not wishing to have any reminders of her cheating ex-husband – threw away the stylish, spike-heeled, pointy-toed, knee-length boots he adored on her so much, and reverted to her more slovenly, innate footwear tastes of plain, flat loafers and socks – albeit this time plain, brown loafers with rounded toes, and black socks!
My only regret was that the rubbery footfool-mask, and the heavy, wooden cangue, remained and were not thrown out along with the spike-heeled boots – largely, I think, because they were now effectively moulded onto me, and would have needed to be somehow surgically removed! My mistress Hui-Liang did, however, manage to erase her ex-husband’s name from the front of my rubbery, footfool-mask, thereby leaving just her own name identifying me as her sole property!
My mistress Hui-Liang didn’t wear white socks any more – preferring her newly sombre, black socks with her blue jeans or grey waitress’s slacks (the restaurant she worked in had, like much of society in the intervening years, relaxed its uniform dresscode – though it still insisted on practical, grey slacks!)
Needless to say – I loved her black socks with brown loafers; such an incongruous colour-clash of footwear style, but I suppose the black of her socks did adequately reflect her sombre moods. Moreover, my dumped mistress Hui-Liang seemed to blame me, at least in part, for the breakup of her marriage and the untying of her supposedly happy knot to master Cheng-Lei sir – even though I had done nothing wrong – for it was during this time that I suffered most frequently under her unhappily knotted whip!
Indeed, during this painful, post marriage break-up period, my mistress Hui-Liang became increasingly irritable, both of bowel and of humour. My guess is that she just wanted to kick a man whilst she was down – and I was the obvious, unfortunate representative of the much hated and distrusted male of the species; therefore I was truly made to suffer the righteous fury of a beautiful, young, Chinese woman scorned!
Still, to give my rejected mistress her due, she still went for her early-morning jogs, and kept herself fit and well, which in turn kept me relatively fit and healthy, despite my advancing years and capriciously harsh punishments – since I had to endeavour to keep up with her busy, singleton lifestyle, or feel the mighty sting of the three-thonged, female, knotted knout on my bended back!
Indeed, it was whilst she was out jogging one morning in the park that she met her second husband – a white man of about my age (early fifties), but unlike me mature, handsome, unmasked and uncangued, and with a steady, respectable job; he was the local park warden! Master Derek-sir turned out to be a very clever man, who spoke fluent Chinese, having previously lived in Hong Kong for many years when he had been serving in the Hong Kong Police Force, before taking early retirement. So my Cantonese-speaking mistress and he hit it off straight away (even to this day she converses at home with her white husband in Cantonese – so I am still the ignorant outsider, who must be shouted at and commanded in prosaic English!)
It was, therefore, love at first sight for the happy couple – just as it had been love at first sight when I first set eyes on my mistress Hui-Liang’s brown leather sandals and blue and yellow, stripy socks all those years ago in the slave auction-house! My mistress Hui-Liang, and master Derek sir, married within a few months of their first encounter – just as soon as my mistress’s ‘quickie’ divorce from former master sir Cheng-Lei had been finalised.
My new master sir was, thankfully, quite blasé about me, and really took no interest in me at all. Nor was he a freakish ‘foot’ freeman – i.e. with a bizarre sexual fetish for female, knee-length boots; unlike his perverted predecessor! Master-sir Derek was much more of a normal, ‘tits and ass’ man – which was good, since my mistress could now be much more relaxed about what she wore on her feet (though she did, I noticed, pay for a boob job!)
She continued to wear whatever she damn well liked on her feet and legs, therefore, in this much happier marriage, but switched to wearing much more revealing halter-tops showing off her new boobs to her beloved, second husband. Her flat, brown, comfy loafers, and plain black anklesocks, however, continued to dominate my, much lower, lifeform.
I did get a slight wobble when my mistress suddenly and unexpectedly bought herself a pair of chunky-heeled, black leather ankleboots, as the zipped uppers of said boots were disarmingly high on her slender, Chinese anklebones, and threatened, like the stretch kneeboots before them, to hide her daily sockwear from my view. But, thankfully, my mistress chose to wear the ankleboots with the cuffs turned down, so I still had a goodly amount of plain, black anklesock to admire below the hems of her blue denim, off-duty, bootcut jeans (she still wore her more practical, and fortuitously black-sock-revealing, brown leather loafers and grey, uniform slacks to her place of work!)
My mistress was in her late thirties by now and I was approaching sixty! These were undoubtedly her happiest days, though I suffered from constant back and shoulder ache, caused not just by the unrelenting weight of the heavy, irremovable cangue, and her ever more frequently applied knotted whip, but by the onset of arthritis! But at least I had my young(ish) mistress’s ankleboots, loafers and socks to comfort me; they helped me to bear the pain – not that my mistress was wearing them for that purpose. She didn’t give a self-satisfied, Chinese damn about my health problems, not now that she herself was happy and fulfilled.
And rightly so!
5. The Present & The Future
And so you find me now, a few years further down the line, still humbly kneeling behind my mistress Hui-Liang’s flat, brown, waitress-loafer heels and plain black anklesocks after some 30 years of loyal foot-servitude, as she takes a well-earned tea break in the restaurant where she still works as a waitress. She’ll be finishing early tonight – and having sex with master-sir Derek. The menopause hasn’t diminished her sex drive, and she still has a healthy sexual appetite; as, indeed, does master-sir Derek – not bad for a man of his age (at 67 – just a few years younger than me! Mind you, I believe he is using Viagra to help stimulate his aging man-organ!)
I, of course, am still a rubbery-masked virgin after all these years of dutifully serving my once geeky, Chinese mistress’s sandals, shoes, sneakers, boots and socks. I suppose I’m the true geek – the ‘foot geek’, obsessed by my, now middle-aged, Chinese mistress’s relatively plain and ungeekish feet and footwear. She has developed and moved on in her life; I’m the one who has stood (or rather knelt) still!
And I shall remain focussed on my mistress Hui-Liang’s shoes and socks till the day I die – and, indeed, beyond! For my ‘clever’ mistress has kindly arranged for me to be buried with a pair of her black waitress-socks in my mouth, and her well-worn, brown leather waitress-loafers resting upturned on top of my dead, rubbery face, in my shallow, unmarked, footslave-pauper’s grave beneath the well-trodden concrete in her back yard, so that, when I am eventually unearthed in some future, female century by female construction workers, everyone can laugh at me – the lifelong, Chinese waitress’s lifelong, devoted, personal footservant, who lived, and died, with his mistress’s common-or-garden, unremarkable, brown leather loafers and black cotton anklesocks next to his rubbery, foot-obsessed, and heavily-cangued face!
The End
