I nervously climbed the stairs and searched in dirty corridors smelling of
refuse before I found the apartment. For my heartbeat to steady, I paused
briefly before knocking, and noticed the television set playing inside. Some
seconds later the door was opened by Sabrina, to whom I had come to offer myself
as a slave. She was carelessly dressed in cheap worn-out clothes, a knitted
plaid covering her shoulders; she was eating a sandwich and, chewing, looked at
me for a few seconds, then asked me what I wanted, expressing disgust and
boredom. I candidly answered that I had been told she might accept me as her
slave. She swallowed, took another bite and, again chewing, grunted and
indicated that I could follow her inside. She opened the toilet door and pushed
me in, telling me to take off all my clothes and wait. She locked me in and I
took off my clothes and squatted on the cold, tiled floor. I considered
masturbating while kissing the toilet seat, to have some anticipated, indirect
contact with my future mistress, but I understood how I would be punished if
caught in such an act on the very first evening of my bondage, and so I only
experienced the psychological satisfaction of feeling my penis hard with
excitement between my legs. I spent quite some time waiting idly for my new
mistress: she watched the television show I had so boldly interrupted. Then she
came to the toilet, opened it and walked a few steps towards the living room,
where, slapping her thigh as if calling a dog, she told me to follow her, and I
obeyed, crawling on all fours behind her, into her tiny living room, which was
decorated with damp wallpaper and furniture fit for the rubbish heap. She sat
down in a chair, crossed her legs and ordered me to kneel before her; she
excelled at commanding, stating her wishes with such energy that she could make
mere words be as effective as a sharp blow of her clenched fist on a servant's
genitals - which is no gratuitous metaphor: during my brief subsequent servitude
I had the opportunity to compare both and verify its literal truth. I was
ordered to look up into her eyes, which expressed superiority, while my head
remained at a few inches from the sole of her sandal; I admired her heavy
breasts and her strong arms, which she held crossed under them, naked to the
elbow; her muscles clearly betrayed that she performed manual labor regularly.
Looking down on me, she asked me for my name, address, job, earnings etc. in
minute detail; my answers had to be polite, complete, concise and clear, lest
her shod foot would strike out over the few inches separating it from my head,
and throw me down on the dirty carpet, only for me to resume my position until
the next kick. Satisfied with my answers, she asked me whether I was sure of
what I was doing and I bent down before her while answering "yes", very close to
the insteps of her feet; she repeated her question and, looking at her strong
feet and painted toe-nails, I confirmed; she placed her right foot on my neck,
the heel of its sandal touching my head. Thus annihilated under her foot, I felt
delicious sexual excitement and pressed my erect penis to the floor. Sentence by
sentence, she dictated the oath I had to swear, in which I pledged my total
obedience and submission to my mistress, whoever she might be in the future, and
gave her unconditionally all rights: to use me, to sell me and to wound, maim or
kill me, or to let someone else do these to me; I would accept that my Owners
use me as an object. When I had sworn this by Almighty God, she pulled away her
foot and, seeing me remain prostrate before her, she said I was now allowed to
kiss her foot once, so I pressed my lips to the tip of her right foot, the one
which had crushed me, and kissed it along with the leather of her sandal,
picking up a trace of cheap perfumed soap. She pulled back her foot and
explained that to kiss her feet was a great reward I would have to deserve,
since she personally quite disliked the feeling; this prohibition extended to
the soles of her feet and, more surprisingly, to the inner and outer soles of
her sandals and shoes. Then she told me that her evening job was to clean
offices in a certain building, and fixed our next appointment there, just before
her working hours. In the toilet, she picked up my clothes and threw them out,
and I followed them; while I dressed silently in the corridor, she forbade me to
climax until the next meeting, and told me she would have me castrated if I
disobeyed.
Although I intended to obey her, I climaxed repeatedly in my sleep (or at least
that's my story), so, on the day of the appointment, I felt quite worried in the
lift as I went up to the floor where Sabrina would meet me. The door opened and
she was standing there, waiting for me, now wearing a green apron and holding a
black leather whip. Taking the whip in her right hand, she pointed it towards
her feet, and I obeyed her in kneeling down just before her, but dared not press
a kiss to the tips of her sandals. She asked why I was still dressed and, when I
wanted to answer, threw the whip on my back and told me to keep quiet; the blow
did not hurt me, for I was still protected by my clothes. She then ordered me to
take them all off and I obeyed, rapidly taking off my jacket, tie, shirt, shoes,
socks etc. When I was almost naked another woman came in, Rita, a buxom
brunette, also dressed in the regulation green apron, but I noticed she wore
brown stockings and green sneakers. I hesitated, looking at Rita, but my
mistress, turning back, saw her friend and told me I would serve her as a second
mistress. I took off my slip and tried to hide my nakedness a little, but
Sabrina said there would be no impropriety for me to be naked and receive
punishment in the presence of Rita; she then threw the lash repeatedly on my
back - the strokes were very painful now, but I received them silently,
prostrate at her feet. She told me that my normal greeting of her at the
beginning of my work would henceforth be to kiss her knees (under no
circumstance her feet!), and I had to do so at once, pressing my lips to her
kneecaps, with silent delight, touching her thighs with the tips of my fingers
when my hands slid up under her apron. After a few kisses she stopped me, making
the word sound as a stroke of the whip. I lay naked and vulnerable before her
when she asked me whether I had obeyed her and abstained from climaxing? She
added to this that my punishment would be castration if I had disobeyed, but
that it also certainly would be castration were I to lie. Bending before her and
apprehensively squeezing my penis between my legs, I admitted guilt. She walked
around me, to see me from behind, and ordered me to open my legs: I knew that
she was about to punish me, but nevertheless obeyed. She then kicked my
testicles half a dozen times, hitting them with the tip of her right sandal,
ignoring my cries of pain; then she announced that my actual punishment would be
postponed, but that I really should obey her totally, even in her absence. I was
then set to work, performing the ladies' cleaning task on the whole floor
assigned to them. This was to become the core element of my bondage to Sabrina
and Rita: they simply had me to all their work, and I was very happy to comply.
During the work, they ignored me most of the time, but every now and then Rita
would approach silently to inspect, and if I displeased her she would suddenly
throw the whip on my back to punish my shortcomings. The women ordinarily
chatted and gossiped together, so that I had to listen carefully during work to
notice if my Mistress Sabrina clapped her hands once, thereby calling me to
perform some menial task for her and Rita, like pouring out coffee or clearing
the table. Small mistakes in their personal service were punished by loud slaps
to my face, whereas mistakes in the cleaning were punished using the whip: I
then had to kneel at the feet of the lady who wanted to see me punished and I
could look at them while the other lady would whip me. At the end of these
punishments, Rita always allowed me to kiss the tips of her shoes. When I have
completed the chores, the women come to inspect my work; they take me along with
them and look at the different rooms I had to clean, at the toilets and the
cleaning tools. They carry out this inspection barefoot, carrying their sandals
so as not to leave any marks on the clean floor. I must lick clean all
neglected, dirty spots they find, before being whipped on site for my
carelessness. Back at the lift, I kneel at the ladies' feet to wash them before
helping them put back on their shoes; I must use what is available: cold water
and detergent soap. With Rita, I must take great care to dry her stockings too;
the pleasure I feel when holding my ladies' feet and making myself useful to
them far exceeds the pain of the corrections and the discomfort of the work.
When my ladies' feet are clean, they put on their coats and leave. I can then
also dress and take the next lift down. * * * At the end of the week, when the
evening work was done, my Mistresses briefly discussed what to do with me during
the week-end; while I washed her feet, Rita recalled the ancient truth that a
man alone is in bad company, so the ladies decided to toss a coin in order to
determine who of them would take me along to her place until next Monday
evening. Rita won (or maybe lost, from her viewpoint): I would stay with her.
Next, I crawled to Sabrina to wash her feet, too, regretting that she never let
me kiss them; with marked irony, she told Rita: "Since you'll have the privilege
of his presence, I'll just take this in compensation" and picked my credit card
from my jacket. "Boy!" she called me to attention, heavily pressing the sole of
her foot on my neck, increasing my erection even further - "How much immediate
credit does it have?" "$6000, Mistress." "That'll do." I could hear her smile
through her voice. "What's the code?" She increased the weight on my neck to
ensure a speedy answer. "Thirty-five twenty, Mistress." "You IDIOT!" - and she
slapped the lash over the pink traces she had inflicted earlier, when Rita had
found a stray cigarette end in a supposedly cleaned corridor - "Couldn't you
have changed that to something easier to remember?" I remained silent: there was
no reasoning against the charge. "Thirty-five twenty" Sabrina repeated to
herself, while Rita had me stand up before her, still naked, untied her belt and
slipped it around my neck, to use it as a rudimentary lead. "Thirty-five twenty"
Sabrina repeated, leaving, and Rita had me take my clothes along with me; we
took the following lift down to the underground parking and, while I was afraid
that someone might stop the lift on its way down and see us, Rita just
carelessly took hold of my testicles and squeezed them a little. In the parking,
she took me to her car and had me put my clothes in the boot, then told me to
get in there too, and I had to curl up as well as possible, wedging myself
between my clothes and sundry old rags and mechanic tools and the spare tire
before she could close the boot. She was in no hurry, knowing that I was safely
locked up; I heard her switch on the radio and she probably smoked a cigarette
before even starting the car. Then she drove away, quite slowly, maybe because
she thought I might be hurt by the disparate rubbish I shared the boot with; in
the meantime, I recalled how my Mistresses had bossed me around and I slowly
masturbated thinking of them, especially of Rita, who was certainly the most
attractive in her unsophisticated bounciness; then I wiped off the semen with
one of the rags. Finally, we arrived at our destination, and she got out of the
car to let me out of the boot; we were in another underground parking lot, and
she had me follow her up to her apartment, which, I found out later, was
situated in a council estate building neighboring Sabrina's. Still being pulled
by the improvised lead, still naked and holding my rolled-up clothes, I was led
into her apartment, where she untied my neck and resolutely grabbed my penis to
pull me behind her into her bedroom. There, she turned to me, pushing her large
breasts against me, and looked me in the eyes; she placed her hands on my
shoulders, as shorter women do when they want to be kissed, but pressed them
down a little, indicating that I should kneel down. When my head was at the
height of her navel, she placed her hands on me and again slightly pushed me, so
I went further down, all the way to her knees and her ankles, and then she
placed her shod right foot on my head and pushed it completely to the floor:
"That's your place, boy, never forget it!" Then she let me untie her shoe-laces
and take off her shoes; I delighted in handling her elegant little stockinged
feet, and spontaneously pressed my lips to their insteps while supporting their
soles, but she soon kicked me away and added two firm kicks to my genitals in
order to calm me down, which worked. Then she directed me to her wardrobe where
I had to fetch some party clothes for her: stiletto-heeled patent leather mules
and an assorted micro-skirt and skimpy top. Next, I helped her in taking off her
stockings and working clothes and putting on the new items; she sat down before
a mirror and had me brush her hair while she selected cheap, plastic jewels that
might gain splendor under erratic lighting, and put on excessive make-up. Before
leaving on her clicking stiletto heels, she guided me into the living-room and,
holding my testicles, instructed me to clean her small apartment; as a reward, I
would be allowed to polish her collection of boots afterwards - "But not before
Everything's clean!" she added, tugging at my scrotum. Those were easy orders to
obey - one need not be a quantum physicist to vacuum carpets properly - and two
hours later I could sit down on the bedroom floor, naked, and start a minute
polishing of my Mistress' boot collection, none of which was actually in need of
treatment, but I enjoyed imagining Rita wearing them, and myself imploring her,
prostrate at her feet. In the early hours, everyone seemed to have gone to sleep
in the building when I heard the lift door; I tiptoed to the front door and
peeked out, to see my Mistress Rita returning, (micro-)dressed as before but
barefoot now, probably for greater comfort.
The End
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