Patheticus Minimus 3D

Angela and Peter were delighted. The weather forecast was for an exceptionally hot, bright and sunny afternoon – just perfect for their garden party! It was only to be a small and intimate affair. They had invited only their very best friends – two other couples; Fiona and Iqbal, and Cecilia and Marcus. It would be an afternoon barbecue in their pleasant, suburban garden. A relaxing and fun little get together for all concerned on a perfect summer’s day. For all, that is, apart from Angela and Peter’s slave – slave Patheticus. He would not be relaxing and enjoying the sunshine. Quite the opposite; he would be labouring hard – scrubbing the stone patio floor; serving the drinks; kissing the feet of his betters. And all under the baking hot, unrelenting sunshine whilst it was at its zenith. Indeed, his mistress Angela had specifically chosen to hold her little ‘soirée’ in the afternoon precisely because she wanted to see her household slave baking and sweating under the ho...

Once upon a time, in the Gynarchy of Barbaria, there was a runaway footslave by the name of Patheticus Minimus. He had not run away from his mistress because she was unkind and cruel to him; or because she was not beautiful; or because he did not admire his mistress’s feet and footwear. No, Patheticus had run away because he was stupid. He was just a stupid, ignorant footslave. He should perhaps have been more aptly named ‘Thickicus’ – ‘Thickicus Maximus’. And now, because he had run away from the security and warmth of his mistress’s feet, he was feeling frightened, anxious and lonely. He was also tired and hungry. In the depths of the forest he happened upon a house. There did not appear to be anyone inside, and so he crawled inside the house through the front door which had been left ajar. Patheticus had been a footslave for so long he could only crawl on all fours, and was now incapable of walking upright like a free man. He made his w...

Chelsea had a wry smile on her pretty face as she checked the contents of her smelly carrier bag before leaving home – dirty socks; dirty nylons; dirty shoes, along with some other items of dirty washing. She really enjoyed her regular trips to the local launderette! She checked her beautiful, soft, feminine features in the mirror and brushed her long, blonde hair one last time, before checking the weather outside the window. Still raining! She had better wrap up well; hooded anorak and ankle boots. It was only a short walk to the launderette, but still with plenty of potential for getting soaked if the rain came on heavy. Mind you, it would have to get ridiculously heavy before she would even contemplate cancelling her trip to the launderette, and just wash her dirty clothes at home. And so she headed out. She had an appointment with the laundryman. …………………………………………………………………………………… The ‘laundryman’, or more accurately the ‘male laundry-slave’, for no-one in their right mind could real...

I am an ornamental foot-kisser in the lobby of a plush hotel. I am confined in a hole in the wall, with only my shoulders, neck and face protruding about 6 inches or so off the ground. My face, neck and shoulders have been sprayed with indelible gold paint to match the décor of the opulent hotel around me, and, of course, in order to make me look ridiculous. To add to my humiliation, a gold-coloured, rubber bathing cap covers the top of my head, and a gold-plated metal footblock lies immediately beneath my protruding, golden face. Female guests and staff in the hotel are welcome to place their foot on the gold-plated footblock at any time in order for the 'ornamental foot-kisser' to pay homage to their feet by respectfully kissing them. Kissing female feet is all I am permitted to do: I may not lick female feet or shoes; I may not sniff female feet or shoes; I may not nuzzle female socks or stockings. I may only kiss female feet and shoes, and even then I must do so with the...