Under The Hammer Part 2
Under The Hammer Part 2
By Slave Paul
Barely even one week into my lifelong servitude to these pretty, yet extremely cruel, young women and life was truly hard! The awful foot-fool mask did an excellent job at robbing me of any last vestige of dignity or personality. It was so tight, my jaw ached from having to fight my artificial mouth in order answer the Mistresses’ questions. Equally, the cangue of infinite shame was doing an excellent job at keeping me low to the ground and reminding me of my lowly status. I wore it for at least 14 hours a day. It only came off at night so that I could once again be sealed into my tomb beneath the Mistresses’ dirty-sock basket.
The next day started earlier than usual. The trap door to my prisoner’s head slid open suddenly and I could feel a bare female foot stamping on my stomach !
‘Come on, out you get, you cretinous fool! I have college this morning!’
Mistress Cloud stood above me with her hands on her hips still wearing her pyjamas. I could see through my masked eye slits that she was in a hurry! I rose to my knees and began kissing her, as yet un-washed, bare bedtime feet as she fumbled with the heavy, unwieldy cangue of infinite shame above me. She brought the dreaded apparatus of oppression crashing down with no finesse about my neck. I was never free for more than twenty-seconds or-so (be it in my cangue or my dirty-sock “night hole”).
Mistress Cloud said nothing else and turned away to visit the bathroom. My orders were now clear. Without instructions to the contrary, I was now to seek out the feet of Mistress Queen and pay them the attention that they deserved at that time (boot worship, sock nuzzling or just bare foot adoration). As always, Mistress Queen was still dozing in bed (she never roused herself before 10:00 AM). The Mistress was laying on her front so I had to contend with her rough heel skin rubbing against my nose as I showered her bare feet with respectful kisses. Her Highness had bathed the night before so her feet were beautifully perfumed for a change!
Before long, Mistress Cloud was standing once again behind me. She whispered so as not to wake her partner.
‘Come here fool and put my socks on. You can then nuzzle them while I eat my cereal. There will be no time to feed you as I need to catch the bus!’
I removed my head from the covers gently and left the younger Mistress gently dozing. Mistress Cloud had already chosen her desired pair of socks. Today they would be pink, yellow and green fluffy towelling socks. I gently and reverently pulled the socks over the slightly more mature (and quite fearsome) Mistress’s plain looking feet. Her utilitarian outlook on life meant that she did not lavish huge amounts of time on her appearance, unlike her younger partner. Now I just knelt there as ordered, tracing my rubbery-masked snout up and down her cross-legged foot as she ate her cereal above me. A floorboard creaked conveniently to disguise the sound that my empty stomach was making at a very opportune moment!
Five minutes later, the Mistress rose from her chair and kicked me in the chest before bending down to whisper:
‘I’m off to college now, slave, and you're coming with me! Better get my shoes on, they're going to love you in class today! Hope you like being humiliated FOOL!’
I was in a state of panic! Not a class full of equally mean and controlling women surely? I would not have long to find out. I hastily picked up the pair of platform trainers that had been picked out by the gesture of a pink fluffy-toed sock. With nervous hands, I managed to fasten the broad laces.
Mistress Cloud attached my chain-lead to the cangue and we set off into the early morning air. I felt so ashamed kneeling in the public bus stop! Six people (five women and one elderly business man) stood there pretending not to notice me kneeling at the feet of my new Mistress.
A short while later…. we arrived.
The college complex was huge! My knees were already aching from all of the fast crawling I was having to do to keep up with my athletic Mistress. All I could hear was a mixture of joviality and shock, as comments like:
‘Whoa, what is that? Some kind of gimp’?
‘Hey Mistress, like your new handbag’!
‘If I give you five Fems would you make him clean my shoes’?
Fortunately for me, Mistress Cloud was in too much of a hurry and merely giggled back at the comments. We finally rounded a corner and entered the Mistress’s classroom. It was filled with single desks and young women all set on learning whatever the day’s topic was to be (until I crawled in that is). An eruption of girlish laughter ensued and all of the women got up to come and crowd round the Mistress’s new footslave.
Mistress cloud merely seated herself at her desk and took out her books. She clicked her fingers and chirped ‘Here foot-fool’!
I wasted no time and crawled to my Mistress (for protection if nothing else). She then leant down and wrapped the chain around the leg of the desk a few times so I could not get away. I was directed to kneel under the Mistress’s chair so that I could study the backs of her trainers. As I positioned myself, the young lady at the desk in front of her spun round to face my Mistress. She was a redhead with a pretty face and a green dress with comfy looking ballet flats on her feet. The black leather flats looked as though they had been in near constant use all through the summer!
The two young women started to speak above me as I wondered why I was daring to study this stranger’s feet when I have been given such precise orders!
‘Hey! I have to ask, what’s the deal with the gimp, Cloud’?
My Mistress Cloud was quick to reply:
‘Oh, it is not important, it is merely my footslave. We own it now and its sole job is to worship and study our feet’.
‘Wow! You mean he, sorry it, has to do anything? Like, what? Foot massages and kissing your shoes, and that?’
'HA! That is just the tip of the iceberg! We haven't even started on it yet, Shelly! Why don't you come up with something foot-related that it will have to do later? That will give it something to think about while it uses what pitiful intellect it has to study my trainers!’
Miss Shelly fell silent, perhaps calling her bluff was not what she was expecting?
‘Hey you-footslave boy! At break time I want you to… err, …. I know! I want you to clip my toenails with your teeth HA!’
The mere thought of doing something so humiliating was terrible! Worse still, the crowd of young women actually seemed delighted and were confidently saying that they would love to watch this spectacle!
Just then the college lecturer lady walked in. She gestured to Mistress Cloud and pointed to her own ears? Little did I know that I was about to be robbed of my hearing for the next two hours! It is illegal for slaves to learn anything in a female classroom in the Gynarchy. Mistress Cloud went through her bag and produced a set of heavy looking headphones with a leather strap and padlock. This apparatus was strapped tightly around my rubbery face mask and lined up with the elongated fake ears of my foot-fool mask. Then she pulled out her phone and selected her choice for the day…. An endless loop of her and Mistress Queen giggling and shouting ‘You’re pathetic, you are a loser and the best you can hope for is to kiss our feet’!
After what seemed like an eternity of watching the Mistress adjust her legs for comfort above me, and occasional furtive glances to see if Miss Shelly was still there, I was released from my noisy headgear! The bell was still ringing; it was break time!
While all of the other classes ran out of their lecture rooms, our class remained behind. The lecturer left to go to the staff room and Mistress Cloud stood up and walked away to get a better view and to record the event on her phone for her partner, doubtlessly to show her later this evening!
The other girls helpfully pulled some of the desks out of the way and formed a circle around Miss Shelly and myself. Miss Shelly now straddled her desk and gestured to me to move forward. I drew level with her shoed feet just beneath my snout. I now had a view of her pasty white feet disappearing into the deep cavernous shoes (and I wanted them to stay there too).
‘Well gimp-boy, get on with it…. I want my nails trimmed nice and short’!
So much female giggling could be heard it was hard to detect my own Mistress’s mocking laughter! I slowly pulled both shoes off and a musty smell of feet erupted forth! Her reasonably pretty bare feet had balls of black dirt clinging to them from the sweat which acted like an adhesive. Her toenails were quite unkempt and some metallic blue nail varnish remained in places. Her jagged nails were there for all to see (soon to be in my mouth). Before any chores could take place, I remembered my manners and kissed both feet in turn.
‘Never mind that’!
A girl behind me was obviously in a hurry to get off to her rest period!
I therefore set about my humiliating task. I thought that if I just got on with it then it would soon be over. I brought her left foot up to my mouth and clamped my front teeth down on her big toenail. I thought that I would be able to bite through it in one go, but obviously not? To my immense shame, I had to chew frantically on her nail to start cutting through it! The girls laughed and opined that I must obviously be enjoying it as I was doing such an impassioned job! After another twenty chews, the nail broke free and pinged into the back of my throat! Fighting the gag-reflex, I thought of a piece of sweet candy and swallowed hard! The nail clipping gouged its way down my esophagus and into my cavernous stomach! One down and only nine to go!
Once I had mastered the technique, the rest of the humiliating and degrading act passed by mercifully swiftly. Before I knew it, I was once again deafened by the sounds of my Mistress’s shrill, mocking, recorded voices as the humble headphones were placed back over my ears and the good and intelligent young ladies of the Gynarchy continued their learning above me.
The second lesson of the day was halted with the sound of the bell once more. I was finally removed from my audio cocoon and told to crawl into the corner of the lecture hall and face the wall as Mistress Cloud did not want to be ‘weighed down’ by her foolish slave. I was greatly relieved at this announcement as I would finally be allowed some solitude and peace. Sadly for me, that is when the mental anguish cut in… Why has this happened? What have I done to deserve this? How much humiliation can one person take? There must be a way out of all of this, surely? I was actually starting to mumble to myself (making the most of my solitude).
Then, to my horror, I suddenly heard a loud crunching sound from behind me! I was not alone after all!
‘Come here, slave’.
A calm female voice called to me. I dreaded the next part. Surely she was going to humiliate and degrade me in some way? Possibly worse; tell my Mistress that I have been moaning?
I crawled over on my painful knees to the unknown young lady. All I could see of her was a pit of dark blue, skin-tight jeans (she was quite a portly young lady) and her off-white gym shoes with greyish looking ankle socks covering her milky-white skin.
‘You can look up at me slave, I’m not one of those Mistress freaks!’
I was terrified of looking up and meeting her gaze, it was certain punishment for doing so! Nonetheless I did as I was ordered.
What a pretty face she had. Long auburn tresses framed her naturally pretty features that all focussed a friendly smile. Her olive green eyes displayed wisdom beyond her years. She took another noisy bite on her crisp apple and swallowed.
‘I couldn't help notice your inner turmoil over there in the corner. I assume that you are quite new to all of this slavery thing, eh’?
I simply could not believe that she was prepared to have such a frank and open conversation with me! I had to answer her polite question:
‘Hoping that it pleases, you most esteemed and gracious lady, your Highness is quite correct that this slave is quite new to its situation, and truly under the yoke of righteous female oppression Ma’am’
To my utter dismay she rolled her eyes to this answer and it obviously did NOT please her!
‘Look slave, if you want some advice we need to be quick! We could both get into trouble for speaking like this. Tell me about the last few weeks or months, however long it is since you've been a slave’.
I set about telling the kindly young lady, sparing no detail. I figured that as I had already made so many transgressions, a few more couldn't possibly make any difference. I simply had to trust her.
At the end of the story she sat there and smiled that warm friendly smile once again. I knew that I was safe with her. I could almost think that I was her equal (if it weren't for this horrid cangue and humiliating mask that just reminded me of my status again)!
‘Well, slave, or whatever your name is, I studied psychology for a while before I took this course and I will give you some advice as a friendly gesture. The mind is the worst torturer of all. If you thought nibbling on Shelly’s toenails was humiliating, that’s nothing! Your problem is YOU! You are still thinking of yourself as a person, and that this is an unjust punishment, and that we are all cruel little vixens who enjoy humiliating slaves, aren't you? You have simply got to start thinking of yourself as a slave and nothing more. Your old life is over now, so just forget it and focus on being a good slave. Be grateful for your Mistresses, you could have a lot worse believe me…. heard of the slave mines?’
I knew that she was talking some sense but I was not expecting this!
‘Look, just try and be more positive! You are a slave now and that’s it. No reprieve, no pardons, this is your life now. Not someone’s weird fantasy or something, merely reality. You are now a faceless foot servant with that wooden whatever it is around your neck! You must deserve this, or you wouldn't be here, would you? Life will be a lot easier if you follow my advice, slave, believe me’!
She kept saying “believe me” and I was starting to!
‘Hungry? I have only had two bites out of this apple, here, you have it slave!’
I was stunned! I did not wait for her to change her mind! I chomped on the sweet apple, it tasted wonderful!
‘Well, I hope that has helped, slave? Better kiss my shoes (remembering that you deserve this and that you are nothing more than a slave) and get back into that corner before we get caught’.
I thought about her words for a moment and resolved to try it…
I handed her the dead apple core (what was left of it) and closed in on her feet. I did as she had advised and this time the act of kissing her footwear did not hurt so much internally? I was not fully content with what I was doing, but because I had accepted slavery, it did not hurt so much! Maybe this was the way forward after all? I kissed and kissed at her feet, this wise young nameless lady above me.
‘Hey mister, that’s enough, we do not want to start rumours do we? Go on, back to your corner and try to be content with your lot! Don't fight it, you will lose’.
I went scurrying off into my corner to await the return of Mistress Cloud. Nearly five minutes later she had returned and the nameless and wonderfully kind young lady was sat silently eating a packet of crisps at her desk maintaining a solitary vigil over me.
‘Not been feeding my slave have you, Joanna’?
'No, of course not! He's been motionless and silent… apart from that stomach of his, do you ever feed him, Cloud’?
‘Ha! Yeah, I will try and remember to feed it tonight. Come foot-fool, the bus will be here in a moment’!
I felt sure I could feel the now known Miss Joanna smiling warmly at me. She had not betrayed my trust, so I felt now was as good a time as any to put my new attitude into practice.
‘Yes, Mistress Cloud, at once Ma’am, your pitiful excuse for a masked, faceless and heavily cangued foot-fool hears and shall obey’!
It did not hurt so much and I said it with such meaning, Miss Joanna was right!
Nearly an hour later, we entered the warm and cosily proportioned ground floor flat. We were greeted by the sight of the younger Mistress Queen who was now out of bed but sat on the sofa a whole seven feet away from the bed, but still wrapped up in the bed sheets. She was watching some awful talk show on the television. I surmised quite correctly that her Highness had not been out all day and the seven feet from the bed constituted her largest journey of the day.
‘Face the wall, cretin’!
Mistress cloud obviously wanted some private time with her younger partner. All I could hear was giggling and kissing. For once though, all I thought was; I hope that they are happy! This new mind-set was working for me.
Mistress Cloud was busy telling her pretty, young partner about her hectic day and my humiliating exploits. I was actually happy to hear the laughter of Mistress queen as she was told of my toenail eating service. It made me slightly proud to think that I had made that laugh a reality.
‘Oi, foot-fool! Come here and sort my feet out, they have been bare all day and are dirty’!
Mistress Queen was indeed correct. The laminate flooring of the flat must have been dirty as the tiny soles of her feet were almost black. Without further instruction I set about licking the soles of her feet clean. I was not complaining; this was my function, this is what I do. I did selfishly think that it would be a scary task to have to bite through Mistress Queen’s talons if I were ordered to! Everyone seemed satisfied. The two young women started laughing (possibly at my plight although I could not see what they were doing under the bed sheet; there was certainly lots of fidgeting and laughter).
After nearly an hour, Mistress Cloud turned to her partner and asked:
‘Have they arrived’?
With no word of answer, the younger Mistress turned away and produced a sealed cardboard carton. She handed it to me and told me to open it.
Immediately I fell back into old patterns and assumed the worst… I bet it's a whip, or a bigger cangue or an even more humiliating mask!
No! wait, be more positive…. just open the box and find out. If it is a whip, it is what I deserve!
My hands shook as I opened the box…. I peeled away the packaging and to my utter surprise revealed: a pair of knee pads?
Mistress Cloud laughed loudly at my apparent surprise!
‘You silly slave, did you think it was an instrument of torture like a whip or something? No - I saw you struggling to keep up with me in the corridor today. I do not want your knees giving out any time soon, so I asked Queenie here to order these for instant delivery’.
I was delighted! Such a thoughtful gift from two such considerate Mistresses (obviously paid for out of my money but that is not something I am dwelling on!)
The knee pads were a welcome relief from pain. Now it was just the nagging, tight mask and the incredibly heavy wooden cangue to contend with.
Mistress Cloud was still smirking:
‘Silly boy, thinking that a whip would fit in that box…. the whip is in this box’!
