Patheticus Minimus 3D

A non-Gynarchy Femdom story – set in the real world! Life was poor. I was a 50 year old, unemployed, white male, lodging with a wealthy Indian lady – 40 year old Mrs Gupta – and her husband. I had no family of my own, and was celibate – being ugly and with no prospects. I basically spent my time cleaning the house whilst my Indian landlady and her husband went out to work and play, and also cooked them the occasional meal – just to help earn my keep, and to demonstrate my gratitude for the boxroom I had been allocated in their home. After all, they didn’t have to take me in! I couldn’t afford to go out much myself, due to my meagre income consisting solely of unemployment benefit, most of which went on my rented room in the Gupta’s household. Then my dull life looked like brightening up somewhat when Mrs Gupta’s 19 year old niece suddenly arrived from India to undertake a course in ‘Film Studies’ at the local film institute. I was told she had aspirations on becoming a young-fema...

More pleasing scenes of jolly (and not so jolly) foot-servitude!   1. A Bone To Pick The pretty, twenty-something, black African girl from the local, Gynarchy township – and I do mean pretty; and I do mean black – has a bone to pick with me, as she sits herself arrogantly down on the raised shoelick throne of power above me and rests her feet on the metal footrests in front of my kneeling face. She has clearly walked in some mud with her left, flowery-patterned, red, grey and green, lace-up, low-top, canvas sneaker, for its white rubbery sole is covered in sticky brown patches all along the rounded, front-toe area. Her right sneaker-toe, conversely, looks pristine and pure – like the rest of her sneakers; indeed, rather like the beautiful, young black woman herself! She swings her head back in disgust – both at the offending filth on her sneaker-toe, and the offending filth kneeling humbly in front of her – causing her long, black, braided hair to rustle like a double-thonged...

The above image is based on a work by Anagoria CC-BY-3.0 ( http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0 ), via Wikimedia Commons . Modified by Patheticus using fotosketcher. ‘…Furthermore, you will wear the stones of shame around your neck for four years!’ My heart sinks, along with my neck, as the dreaded ‘stones of shame’, each weighing a hefty 180 pounds, are hung around my neck by the female Court Bailiff, in line with the sentencing of the most respected, 18 year old, good young lady judge. Two massive, heavy stones dangling on either side of my face which will force me to keep my head low at all times – below female-ankle level – as I go about my public-footslave business for the next 4 years. They shall be an extra burden to me, and a sign to all and sundry that I am a convicted, male felon – as well as a common footslave. These particular stones have the words ‘Impotent’ and ‘Whipped’ engraved on them (on the left and right stones as I wear them respectively), so that the re...

These recently captured, dumbass males have seemingly little or no understanding of their newfound predicament as male slaves in the glorious Gynarchy of Barbaria. More fool them! … A Public Footwipe ‘I appear to be some sort of footwipe for the general, female populace as they enter a place of female worship. I am embedded, face upwards, in the ground with only my nose, eyes and lips above ground level – presumably because these are my most useful facial protuberances for scraping off dirt from the soles of the female feet above me? Curiously, though, it is not their outer footwear that I must clean with my helplessly upturned face, but their inner footwear – their smelly socks or tights. The smugly smiling young ladies above me actually kick off their dirty shoes or boots before they then drag their socked or nylon-stockinged feet across my eyes, nose and lips; never bare feet, for some reason – the ones who were barefoot inside their shoes, boots or sandals just walk...

The follow-up to ‘The Handyman-Footslave’ By Slave Paul It had now been nearly two years since the ill-fated footfool had been placed under the all controlling charge of Master Maxine. Rather unsurprisingly, Master Maxine saw to it that life as her personal foot-slave was a sombre and miserable existence. The only stipulation (that did not directly relate to her feet) which she made to the slave formerly known as Paul, was that from now on he must record all of his thoughts and feelings in a daily journal. This was not so uncommon in the modern Gynarchy, as good slave journals could sell for real money! This could be a lucrative form of income for the Mistress (or ‘Master’ in this case). From the diary of prisoner slave foot-pig: Following my initial enslavement to the almighty Master Maxine, I was truly made to suffer and repent for my shameful sins against femininity! Over the many months that ensued, many unusual and noteworthy events took place to further humiliate and d...