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View Full Version : Veronica and Adrina: A Family Affair


John Blaze
12-26-2010, 8:58 PM
Here is a quick one i wrote a while back. Enjoy!


Christopher never had a good relationship with his mother-in-law. In fact, that’s putting it mildly. They had grown to virtually hate each other and the history was long. When he looked in her eyes, she had the same look of contempt and condescending resentment she had from day one! Except now, there was an incredible look of satisfaction in her eyes as Christopher let his tongue touch the heel of her foot. A salty and cheesy taste exploded onto his tongue as it slowly ran up the sole of her foot. He cringed as Adriana laughed a hearty, self amused laugh. The shame and humiliation he felt were compounded by the fact that she had all but predicted this moment would come… and all but caused it too!

The Beginning

Christopher married Veronica four years ago and in his eyes, his mother-in-law was responsible for the deterioration of their marriage. She never wanted them to get married in the first place, and she didn’t hide it!

Veronica’s father was already dead when he decided to marry her so, trying to be traditional, he asked her mother Adriana for her daughter’s hand in marriage. She said no! When Christopher pressed her more, she explained that she wanted “more” for her daughter. At first her words were sugar coated with politeness, but as the conversation grew more heated she made Chris feel 3 inches tall. Christopher was crushed when she explained that her daughter would marry a “successful man”. Veronica was Adriana’s only daughter and the proud parents had given her everything that they could… including the best education and drive to be successful. Her parents were Cuban immigrants and they built themselves up through the years. When Veronica’s father died years back, Adriana had taken over the business and run it as CEO until she recently retired. The money had flowed freely and Veronica was raised well. Adriana took pride in her family name, their status, and the life she wanted for her daughter. She didn’t feel Christopher was a “good match” for her daughter.

Christopher professed his love for her daughter and explained that “love was enough”. Adriana wasn’t buying one word! On paper Veronica and Christopher were polar opposites - Veronica went to an ivy league college, Christopher dropped out of high school. Veronica went to law school, Christopher had tried unsuccessfully to start a few businesses. Veronica was a successful corporate lawyer and Christopher was… well, currently working as a clerk at the local hardware store. It was only to be temporary. He was incredibly bright and he was convinced that his entrepreneurial spirit would eventually make him a success. Christopher was amazed that a woman who help her husband rise up from nothing couldn’t see that! The conversation quickly turned ugly as Adriana pointed out that Christopher was nothing like her late husband. That he was “destined to fail” because he was a “fool”. More than that, she didn’t want him ruining her daughter’s life when he found himself “in the gutter”. Furious, Christopher told her that he loved her daughter and that was it! They were getting married.

He didn’t speak much to his mother in law for the rest of the engagement. When they did talk, it was usually an argument about something. Veronica, his faithful wife, would always defend him to her mother and that usually would end it. However, even with her heavy pay, Veronica couldn’t fully afford the lavish wedding she wanted. So, much to Chris’ dismay, she asked her mother for help. Her mother was happy to help and ended up paying for most of the wedding. This Chris felt completely emasculated. As Veronica and her mother planned the big day, Adriana made sure to talk her daughter out of virtually everything that Chris wanted to include. Since she was paying, Chris would only lightly protest and even that was met with nasty looks and snide comments from Adriana. “What type of man can’t contribute for his own wedding?“ or “What say do you have? You want to pick something? Pay for something!?“ Chris would usually then just drop his head in frustration and slight humiliation. What’s worse, sometimes Veronica would defend him and sometimes she wouldn’t!

The next “event” happened on the wedding day. Chris lost both of his parents many years before. On his wedding day, he wanted to honor them in some way. He chose to give his wife a special handkerchief. It was his grandfather’s handkerchief and it had been handed down to his father on his wedding day. Before he died, his father gave it to Christopher. Now, on his own wedding day he would give this very special gift to his wife in a special part of the ceremony. In the grooms quarters, as he was getting ready, Adriana came into his room and asked to see the handkerchief. Pleased that she was taking an interest in his family traditions, he explained the significance of the handkerchief. How it was passed down through generations, how it had survived “the war”, and how it really represented all that his family was to him! Adriana stared at the beautifully embroidered bright white cloth. Chris looked at his mother-in-law. She looked amazing. She had a plump and curvaceous figure and was very attractive for a woman her age. She wore a beautiful white dress with white wedding shoes and her red hair was up in a bun. She had her daughter fairly young and was only 54 herself. She truly looked beautiful as she stood admiring his family heirloom. Then she said to him, “I have a spot on my shoe.” Chris watched in horror as his future mother-in-law stooped down and started wiping a dark spot from her shoe. She rubbed vigorously until her shoe was clean to her satisfaction. Then as if that wasn’t bad enough, she explained how she had been “slipping” a little in her new shoes because her feet were very sweaty. As Christopher stood paralyzed in shock and horror, Adriana removed each shoe and used the special cloth to clean the sweat from her feet. She slowly and methodically wiped down her soles and then carefully wiped each toe, even digging in between them to clean out her toe cheese. She carefully inspected each foot before slipping her expensive shoes back on. She walked up to Chris, who was standing with his mouth open in disbelief. His blood boiled and his anger caused him to sweat profusely. Adriana walked over to him, having just wiped her feet and her shoe with his family heirloom. Noting that he was sweating, she calmly wiped the sweat from his face with this same cloth. As she dabbed , patted, and wiped at his face “lovingly”, he could see the smudges her feet had made on the cloth. When she finished wiping his face, she handed him the cloth and walked away. This was their pre-wedding “bonding” moment and he fully understood the symbolism. This was his soon to be “mother” cleaning her feet with his “family name” to show him where his place was. This was his future “mother” telling him that his most important and loved possession wasn’t good enough for her daughter… in fact, it was only good enough for two things - his family and to clean her feet. And, secondarily, she was saying that a rag used to clean her feet was still “good enough” to clean his face! Chris let his anger subside and resigned himself to eat his pride for the sake of his future wife and his family… but clearly, he now would not give her the special handkerchief during the ceremony. Adriana had claimed another victory.

Christopher didn’t have many family members and with his parents dead, he wasn‘t well represented at the wedding. Of the 375 guests, 323 were Adriana’s family. Most of the wedding and reception music and customs were all Cuban. Christopher wanted his Italian heritage honored in some way. It wasn’t.

He never told his wife about the handkerchief and he never made a big deal about the lack of diversity during the reception and ceremony.. This was how his marriage began.

Less Than a Husband

Apparently Adriana was a tremendous judge of character. She had completely predicted his future failures. The economy fell apart and took all credit and loans for guys like Chris with it! After a few failed attempts at businesses, Christopher abandoned his dreams (at least temporarily) and just looked for work. However, in a recession “white collar” jobs were hard to come by… especially without any formal education. He took whatever work he could find. Mostly, he spent his day doing little odds and ends for a few bucks and looking for work.

They lived in a fantastic house in a fantastic neighborhood. Veronica’s work as an attorney paid for all they could need or want. Chris didn’t feel like much of a man and he really wanted to contribute financially. He just couldn’t. Veronica was handling all the business and didn’t need him for that. Christopher tried to show his appreciation by helping more around the house. He cooked, he cleaned, he ran her a hot bath whenever she seemed stressed and he rubbed her feet every night. However, he was fighting a losing battle. Whenever her mother would visit (which seemed like all the time) she would talk about him like he wasn’t there! Sometimes in Spanish and sometimes in English, she would hardly ever mention his name unless the words “lazy” or “bum” were attached. Her mother was constantly in her ear asking her why her husband wasn’t working, when would he find a job, why was she supporting him. His increased efforts around the house only made her snicker and say things like “He might as well be YOUR wife!”

Slowly, he started to notice his wife changing. She used to defend him to her mother… at least sometimes. Now, her mother’s comments went unchecked unless HE spoke up. Then, she would start to scold HIM for speaking to her mother rudely. She used to help out around the house with chores, but slowly she stopped. Then, she started to chastise him when things weren’t getting done. “You’ve been home all day… is it to much to ask for you to do the dishes?” As things deteriorated like this, he tried harder to please her through his housework. He wanted to help in some way… to show he appreciated how she was holding down the financial side. However, this combined with her mother’s constant interference only made him start to look weaker and weaker as a man in her eyes. Eventually, it got to the point where Veronica would come home exhausted from a day at the office and as she walked through the house she would drop things as she saw fit. She’d drop her briefcase, fling her suit jacket, and drop her car keys. Chris would scurry around picking everything up and putting them away.

“What’s for dinner Chris?”

They would eat whatever he had prepared and speak about her day. She would mostly complain about work issues and occasionally hit him with a “Well, you wouldn’t understand.” Usually, then she’d get a back massage or a foot massage. She really loved the foot massages after a long day. She used to be very appreciative, but now she would kick off her shoes drop her stockinged feet in his lap and flip through her favorite shows while he rubbed the day’s stress away. She used to thank him… or even better, get turned on and jump on him! Now, she mostly gave some instructions to “rub harder” or “hit that spot”… then she’d fall asleep. It was a vicious and cruel cycle. He felt like he was losing his wife, but he was powerless to do anything. So, he tried harder and harder to show his appreciation by taking care of her and the house. This only made him less like a husband and more like a servant in her eyes. So she took him even MORE for granted.

Then one day, Chris realized he had hit rock bottom. Veronica came home from a day of shopping at the mall with her mother. The two women were sitting side by side in the family room on the couch. They kicked their feet up on the cushy leather foot rest and relaxed while they spoke about their days. Veronica asked Christopher to bring them some refreshments and he prepared them some glasses of wine. As they drank and spoke about their days, Christopher stood bye and waited to be acknowledged. Then… he was “acknowledged“.

Adriana started her usual belittling of him. “You can hire a butler to bring you wine! Why are you still putting up with this free loader?”

Christopher couldn’t believe what he heard and experienced next.

“Well, he has been out of work for a very long time and I’m getting a little sick of it… but he gives a great foot massage!” The two women laughed at the mean spirited joke. Christopher was hurt deeply by his wife’s remark. Then it got worse.

“Mmmm, that sounds delightful. My feet are killing me from all that walking around the mall.”

Christopher looked at his mother in law… was she serious?

“Chris, can you be a doll and rub my mom’s feet for her? She does so much for us it’s the least you could do!”

Now he looked at his wife…was SHE serious?

Adriana kicked off each shoe and waved her stockinged feet in the air in anticipation. Chris was at a crossroads. His wife knew that he and her mother didn’t get along… why would she ask him to do this?

He looked at his mother-in-law’s feet and gulped. He literally swallowed his pride… for now, but he would have it out with his wife later about this! Neither woman moved their feet to the side, so he couldn’t sit on the footrest to do the deed. Instead, he knelt at Adriana’s feet and took both of her cream colored stockinged feet in his hands. He massaged the feet of his nemesis as she spoke with her daughter. He could smell a strong, cheesy odor that seemed to slap him in the face as he knelt at her feet. Her cream colored stockings were damp with perspiration and her feet weren’t as well kept as he thought they might be. Her toes were pedicured a dark burgundy color, but her heels and the balls of her feet had rough calloused areas. He rubbed them, enduring her foot smell, for fifteen minutes. The two women more or less ignored him. When he was finished, Adriana thanked her daughter for the foot massage. That was the last straw! Chris stood up and said angrily “I rubbed your damn feet! ME! I rubbed those smelly, hard, calloused dogs and I want some damn respect! How about some appreciation for once!”

His wife immediately dismissed him. “Oh Chris, don’t be so dramatic! I’m sure my mother is quite grateful. Right mom?”

Adriana rolled her eyes and then smiled. “Yes, Chris. I thank you. Thank you for finally realizing all you’re good enough to do for my family is rub our feet and do our laundry!”

Chris grew angry and looked at his wife for support. She spoke.. But not as he had hoped. “That reminds me. Chris, I left some laundry for you to do. And please do my lace panties by hand… I don’t want them ruined.”

Chris was crushed and he looked at his wife with deeply pained eyes. Then, Adriana sealed the deal. “Oh, you’re going to wash clothes by hand? Great! Can you do these socks for me? They are pretty rank. I could smell them up all the way over here as you rubbed them. I’m glad I wasn’t the one with these things in my face!” She rolled up her pant legs to reveal that the cream stockings weren’t stockings at all but knee high nyloned socks.

Christopher didn’t have any more rage, shame, or pain left to use. He just stood marveling that his wife had spoken to him like this and had allowed her mother to do the same. Adriana, knowing her feet stunk, allowed him to kneel there and rub them anyway. Then had the nerve to not only make fun of him but to demand he wash her socks??? Christopher didn’t know how to react. He wondered why he didn’t curse them both out and storm off. Instead, he removed the socks from Adriana’s feet as she lifted each leg for him to do so. Then, he walked off to wash his wife’s underwear and his mother-in-law’s smelly socks. He didn’t know what to do. He had lost any power and respect in the relationship.

Screwing Up

Like many men do when there are problems at home, Christopher looked elsewhere to be satisfied. The respect and love he was no longer getting in the house, he found in bed with other women. Many other women! When he was with these women he felt like a man, but when he was home he felt like a bitch! He still loved his wife but he was failing miserably at wining her back… or even getting any respect at home. His wife was bossing him around and his mother-in-law was showing up and belittling him at will.

Then it happened. One day his wife confronted him. She had discovered all the evidence that he had left behind during his sloppy affairs. Phone calls, texts, answering machine messages, women’s clothing. She had him dead to rights. Before he could even offer a defense she starting cutting him down to size. She screamed how her mother was right, how he was a failure, how he came from nothing and he would return to nothing, how he was beneath their family. She kept going on and on. Finally, the little self respect and manhood he had left kicked in. He admitted his affairs and coldly threw the large number of women in her face. She cocked her hand back and slapped him. Startled and furious, he slapped her right back. Her head flung backwards at the blow. She started running through the house. She was crying hysterically. Immediately Christopher felt horrible. Even though he had put up with a ton of crap, he knew he shouldn’t have hit her.

He went chasing after her and apologizing. She kept running through the house screaming “He hit me! He hit me! Mom, he hit me!”

Wait … mom? Oh great! How could he resolve this issue with that bitch here. His wife ran into the kitchen and he chased after her apologizing. When he entered the kitchen, WHACK! He felt a hard and sharp blow to the head.

Beat Down and Thrown Out

Christopher crumbled to the floor and rolled over to see Adriana standing over him with a frying pan. “You hit my daughter you animal? I knew you were no good!” She swung down with the frying pan again. He deflected it with his arm, and grabbed it from her. He started to get up when …WHACK… he got kicked in the face. It was a crushing blow as Veronica had run halfway across the kitchen and swung her leg full force with the pointy toe of her designer boot smashing him in the face. He crumpled to the floor again, and the two women were upon him. Veronica was crying and screaming as she kicked and stomped her husband. The pointy toe of her boot mostly hit him in the back, stomach and ribs as he tried to cover up in a ball. Adriana rained down stomps in her slip on hard bottomed flats. The clunky heel made her foot feel like a sledge hammer as she aimed mostly at his head. Then, Veronica slipped a well timed soccer kick through his defenses and it caught him right in-between two ribs with the point of her boot. Christopher winced in pain and grabbed at his side with both hands. Mistake. At that precise moment Adriana’s foot came slamming down and caught him with a perfect stomp on the side of his head and face. Her foot slammed into his head and bounced it hard off the kitchen tiles. The room started spinning. He lifted his arms to blindly defend himself, but their feet kept finding their targets. A kick to the back. A kick to the stomach. A kick to the ribs. A kick to the chest. Adriana waited for him to uncover his face with her foot elevated above his head. When she saw her opening she rained down another perfectly aimed stomp. Christopher caught a glimpse of it coming just in time and threw his hands up to deflect the blow. He foot was pushed off target and caught him in the shoulder. He grabbed her foot and held on for his life! Veronica continued to give him sharp kicks in the back. To free her foot, Adriana slipped it out of the shoe. Christopher held her shoe in his hands as her barefoot came crashing back down on his exposed face. This time when her foot slammed his head into the floor she kept it there. Holding the kitchen counter for leverage, she stepped full force on his face with her bare foot. She applied so much pressure that her other foot lifter slightly off of the ground and she stood on his head, pinning it to the ground. He grabbed vainly at her ankle trying to throw her off. With the ledge of the counter providing her with perfect balance, she stood on his face and pinned him to the floor. While her bare foot crushed his face and head, her daughter kept kicking him ferociously for the next ten minutes. She kept cursing him and aimed repeatedly at his ribs and stomach, trying to hit him in the same area as often as possible.

He started crying now, unable to help himself. With his mother-in-law standing on his face with one foot and his wife kicking him mercilessly he felt and looked pathetic. He got kicked in the ribs and stomach so much he thought he was going to vomit, he thought he was bleeding internally, and he thought he would die if she didn’t stop. Finally, she stopped kicking. Her mother stepped off of his face. He curled up on the floor and cried softly. His wife, out of breath from kicking him, said “Look at the big tough guy. You like to hit women? You little bitch! Get out of my house!”

Christopher tried to get up but he collapsed. His ribs were on fire, his stomach didn’t seem to have the strength to support his body, and his left knee was twisted horribly. His wife kept screaming “Get out of my house.” Scared that they would start kicking him again, he started a crippled crawl towards the front door. His mother-in-law walked behind him and every few moments she would kick him swiftly in the butt, urging him forward. His wife removed her long leather boot and swung it like a club, beating him over the back with it s he crawled. She cursed him for cheating. She cursed him for being useless. She cursed him for wasting part of her life. Each time she cursed him, she beat him with the boot. Finally, after what seemed like forever, he reached the front door and crawled outside. There were about 8 stone steps in front of the house and he knelt there wondering how he would get down.

“Hey” his wife yelled.

Slowly, painfully he turned to face her. He knelt there and looked up at her furious face.

“I want a divorce”. With that, she lifted her stockinged foot which had been in the boot she had kicked and then beat him with, pressed it against his face, and with a firm push sent him flying backwards down the stone steps. As he crashed to the bottom and fractured his ankle, Veronica turned to her mother and said “Let him go to the cops if he wants. What’s he gonna say? My wife and her mother beat me up?”

The Deal from Hell

The divorce proceedings were a massacre. Christopher couldn’t afford a good attorney and Veronica had a friend who was an ace lawyer handle her case. They laid out all of the evidence of his cheating and he got crushed. Although he never went to the police, he was still recovering from his wounds. His arm was in a sling, his leg in a cast and his face had the bruises of a prize fighter. The two women took silent pride in what they did to him and he could see it I their faces. As it turned out, his wife had everything in her name. So, she kept everything. The joke of it all was that somehow, they also got a judgment for spousal support. The well paid lawyer from a rich family was going to get spousal support from the struggling out of work ex-husband. It just didn’t’ seem right!

The two women smiled widely at each other and at Christopher. Defeated, he walked out of the court and planned to appeal. But deep down, he knew he wouldn’t win.

In the coming weeks his life deteriorated horribly. He moved into a single room he rented in a very bad neighborhood. He got a job as a janitor at a school by day and at a courthouse by night. Neither job would pay him cash “off the books” so he had his check garnished each week for his “spousal support”. He could barely afford food. He was miserable and he often would imagine the two bitches who ruined his life laughing as they drank wine at the mansion. After about two months of this horrible struggle, he received a letter from Veronica.

Dear Christopher,

Thank you for your spousal support checks. I know you could really use the money. You can’t be eating well if this measly amount is 27% of your weekly earnings. I thought you’d like to know that it goes towards new shoes form my mother.

Your ex-wife
Veronica

Christopher was furious. He figured maybe he could use this letter to his advantage to get out of this predicament in court. But first, he needed a drink. With that scathing letter fresh in his head he hit the local bar and drank for hours. The night ended with him assaulting a cop and ending up in jail. The officer was hurt badly and he knew he was looking at serious time. He had nobody to call for help, but he knew he was WAY in over his head. He had to get some help. So against every fiber in his being, he called his wife.


Which brings us all the way back to where we started our tale...

Much to his dismay, when the cell door opened an hour later it wasn’t his wife but Adriana. She explained that she was willing to help. She explained that she could hire the best lawyers and make it all go away. But he had to admit that he was beneath her and her daughter and accept that place in life.

Christopher looked at her with pained and desperate eyes.

Adriana reached down and removed her expensive looking high heel shoe. “If you accept this deal, then crawl over here and lick my foot. Remember when you said it was hard and calloused? Well, when you lick it every day for the next year… I’m sure it will be soft.”

This incredible bitch! She had reduced his life to garbage and was now here to enslave him. With tears in his eyes he nodded in acceptance of the deal. As he got on the floor and crawled towards his enemy, she kept speaking to him. “We’ll put a cot in the garage for you. You can clean up around the house and wash our things.” He kept crawling. “Remember when I told you you’d fail? That you were a fool? Remember when I wiped my feet with your family legacy?”

The tears rolled down his cheeks.

“You should have listened. Now, lick my foot and commit to being the footstool to my daughter and me that you have always been.” She held her sole in his face as he contemplated if there were ANY other way. Then he realized how she had placed him firmly beneath her foot in so many ways from the start!

Christopher extended his tongue and cringed. Then, he tasted her foot as she laughed. His new life was about to begin.

The End

macrina
12-27-2010, 12:00 AM
Thank you, i always love stories like this. Please is there more, cant wait.

Miss_clinton
12-27-2010, 5:50 AM
Wonderful story.. pity u have ended it..

luvblkpatntspks
12-27-2010, 7:11 AM
SWEET

Thanks

John Blaze
12-27-2010, 9:15 AM
Well... I always reserve the right to randomly add a sequel. ;)

macrina
12-27-2010, 9:27 AM
Please do, thank you my friend.

txordi
12-27-2010, 10:03 AM
When you are inspired it is almost always, you overcome more and more into the stories, it would be difficult to say which is the best they are all impressive.

stivalo
12-27-2010, 4:47 PM
This story is simply fantastic!!!

Sauur
12-27-2010, 10:11 PM
You are a breath of fresh air man! Wonderful work, thank you so much for sharing your talent.

Rugboy3
12-28-2010, 3:20 PM
Great story. On its way to becoming a classic. I hope it stays violent and sadistic. Throw in a dash of humilationa and you have yourself a winner! Thanks for the post.

John Blaze
12-29-2010, 12:15 PM
Based on the massive positive response, Ive decided to keep this one alive for a while. Enjoy part 2!

Sealing the Deal

Christopher closed his eyes tightly and grimaced the way one does when a disgusting tasting medicine touches the tongue. Indeed, this was his “medicine”. It was the cure to what most immediately and urgently concerned him. In the back of his mind he considered the possibility that the long term implications of this “deal” could be far worse! No time for that now! Avoiding a long jail sentence was the critical objective!

Reaching out his hand, he cupped her foot under the heel as his tongue slowly stroked upwards. He could taste a thin layer of sweat as the salty residue stuck to his tongue and dried out his mouth. He smelt and tasted the faint cheesiness of a foot that had been marinating in its own sweat for a while. With his eyes closed he was acutely aware of all of the tastes and the sensations her foot had to offer him. Like a blind man reading Braille, he felt his way around. His tongue left her hardened heel for the softer skin of her arch before returning to the rough and hardened ball of her foot.

Retracting his tongue he looked up at Adriana, prepared for the smug look of satisfaction he was certain he would see. However, instead he simply saw her raise her eyebrows expectantly. “That’s it?” she asked sounding slightly surprised. “I was expecting more from a man on the verge of a long prison sentence. Convince me you are ready to accept my terms. Show me your gratitude for my help.”

The tears that were falling periodically from his cheeks increased in intensity as he came to grips with the fact that his humiliating task wasn’t over. He leaned in for round two. Realizing he would be at this until this bitch of a woman was satisfied, he licked quicker now. With long deliberate strokes, he lapped repeatedly at her sole like a cat cleaning itself.

Adriana leaned back against the bars of the cell, tilted her head back, and closed her eyes. Her ex-son-in-law knelt on the cold concrete in front of her. He was silently crying. Tears ran down his face retracing their already established path. Many, many thoughts raced through his head. It was unfathomable to him that it had come to this. In his mind years ago, he thought he’d have started a successful company by now. He thought he’d have a loving wife and a child or two. He thought that after establishing some success, and killing her with kindness, he would have won over is mother-in-law. None of that had come to pass. He was broke and living in a section 8 apartment. His wife had moved on, but not before teaming with her mother to beat the shit out of him… a fact that still was evident by his poorly healed injuries and bruises. His life had fallen pathetically apart just as Adriana had predicted… and contributed to. How hard would it have been for her to use some of her contacts in the business world to help him get some footing instead of reveling in his repeated failure? Now here he was, running his tongue repeatedly up the sole of her foot. One time would have been one too many, but she of course wanted more. She was reveling in his degradation! He opened his eyes for the first time as he licked. Determined not to stare at the sole of the foot in his face, he looked up. However, upon seeing the content smile on her resting face he looked down.

That’s when he noticed her expensive shoes. They looked brand new. He immediately thought of the taunting note he had received that bragged that his hard earned money was going towards Adriana’s shoe collection. He was paying his ex-wife a stiff percentage of the meager earnings from the two jobs he worked and Adriana was padding her pockets with his money as some sort of "shoe tax". At this moment, he truly regretted not taking her advice years before. She had asked him to not marry her daughter. He wondered what his life would have been lie had he heeded the warning. He looked back up at her peaceful face. She almost looked asleep standing up. So peaceful. So happy. So content. He wondered what she was thinking about.

He probably could have guessed some of it. Adriana was literally tingling with delight. She had this mongrel of a man where he belonged. Willingly accepting his place at her feet. He had dared to challenge her. Dared to grasp at equality with her family. How could he not see that they were so clearly his superiors? As she predicted, he failed to add anything of meaning to her daughter’s life. But then, he did the unthinkable. He had the audacity to not only cheat on her daughter but to put his hands on her. She hated him. She hated him with such ferocity that it could only be appeased by the satisfaction of seeing him forced into an existence as the scum on her daughter’s shoe. This thought brought her great joy.

However, she was also slightly disappointed. She had assumed that having her feet licked would have felt so much better. She was enjoying it, but it wasn’t blowing her away. This was peculiar because she loved foot massages. She noticed that when he was licking the arch of her foot it tickled and felt really good. She admitted to herself that the rough spots on her feet were robbing her of the full experience. She made a mental note to ensure her feet got smoother. She chuckled to herself as she decided that would be a designated task of her new toy. But for now, she needed to experiment. She needed to find out what she enjoyed most. “I wonder about the toes?” she thought.

She repositioned her foot so her toes were directly in front of Christopher’s mouth. He looked up at her with a disgusted look on his face.

“Lick my toes now.” She said nonchalantly.

“Oh come on Adriana! You’ve won. Can’t you see that? I’ve lost and you’ve won! Knock all this extra shit off!”

WHACK! Swinging her arm quickly, the shoe (which she still held in her hand by its heel) slapped him forcefully across the face with its sole.

“I didn’t ask you for any opinions or observations. I asked you to lick my toes!”

"She just slapped me with her shoe for not licking her toes!" he thought. "How low have I sunk?" Christopher thought, shocked that Adriana was still finding new ways to humiliate him. Having been put in his place, he extended his tongue and licked her big toe. It felt good to her, but her toe was also slightly calloused. Then his tongue licked her next toe. JACKPOT! New and fantastic sensations shot up Adriana’s leg and exploded in her pleasure center- not sexually, but the way someone feels after a shot of an addictive drug for the first time. Which, unfortunately for Christopher, meant that she was hooked on that feeling and would wanted it insatiably! That was the feeling she had been waiting for. She pushed her foot forward so her toes were eagerly awaiting right at his lips. Christopher let his tongue slide out and in-between her toes. He licked up, down, and across as Adriana shivered at the fantastic new sensation she discovered. Of course, the crevices of her toes had new tastes and smells waiting for Christopher. As he made Adriana's ego soar and her toes tingle, the tart taste of sour salt reminded him vividly of what he was doing.

Adriana was snapped out of her triumphant trance by the sound of the guard’s voice.

“What the hell is going on in here?”

“Nothing officer.” Adriana said as she slipped her foot back into the expensive shoe.

“Well, this ain’t no conjugal visit! You can save that freaky stuff for home. The bail went through.”

Adriana looked disapprovingly at the officer for his assumption that they were having some sort of sexual experience. “Oh no officer. It’s nothing like that. He was simply expressing his gratitude for me getting him out of here. “

“Whatever” The officer commented.

Christopher stood up preparing to leave. He wiped the tears from his face. Looking at Adriana he wished he could wipe that smile off of her face, wipe the taste of her feet from his mouth, and wipe the memory of what just happened from his mind. He couldn’t.

She snapped her fingers and walked out of the cell. Christopher walked behind her and pondered his fate.


Convincing Veronica

When they arrived home Adriana made Christopher wait at the front door when she went in. It was a surreal feeling to be returning “home” and weird emotions flooded his brain. The sound of an argument erupted and he immediately understood why he was made to wait outside.


“Mom, you brought him here? How could you?”

“I thought...”

“You said you only wanted to go gloat. To see him in the cell and get some closure.”

“Yes, but then I realized I could crush him. We have him right where we want him. You can get all of your frustrations out!”

“I don’t want that man in my house!”

“He’s not here as a man! He’s here as a mule… a beast of burden.”

“I can’t have him here… I won't look at him everyday!”

Adriana came walking back outside. “Well, I guess this was a bad idea. I don’t know if that was good or bad for you. Which is better? To live as our footstool or spend twenty years in prison?” It was a rhetorical question, but it made Christopher think. He immediately pondered his options. The thought of either scenario seemed like hell! However, there was a slight chance that with time he could rekindle some feelings in his wife… get out of this predicament. Prison, however was permanent!. He made his decision quickly.

“Let me talk to her” he pleaded.

Adriana shook her head. “No, that’s a bad idea”

“PLEASE!”

Adriana relented and Christopher walked into the house. Veronica was curled up on the couch in the living room. She wore teal satin pajamas. “Baby,” he started. “Please hear me out. I have nothing and I’ll go to prison for sure without your help”. His ex-wife didn’t even look at him. “Baby, if you feel anything for me still…”

Veronica finally looked at him. “Feel anything ?Are you serious? You cheated with who knows HOW many women! You slapped me!”

Christopher cringed at her version of history which, while true, excluded how she and her mother systematically emasculated him and how they beat him half way to death.

She continued. “My favorite memories of you are when I kicked you down the stairs and the pathetic look on your face in court as we took everything from you!” Veronica looked at her mother. “Mom, how did you let him talk you into helping him?”

Adriana looked at her daughter’s angry eyes. “He didn’t convince me to help him. I convinced him to come be our indentured servant.”

“And you bought it? He's so full of shit!"

"He's serious. I know."

"How?”

“I made him lick my foot.”

Veronica looked at her ex-husband in disbelief. “You licked my mother’s feet to save your ass?” As Christopher searched for something to say Veronica’s face morphed from disbelief, to disgust, to slight amusement. “You really are a pathetic insect of a man aren’t you?” Christopher dropped his eyes to the floor. Any part of him that still resembled a real man in his ex-wife’s eyes died at that moment. “You want to stay out of jail… beg me!”

Christopher started to turn red with embarrassment. “Baby..”

“Don’t call me that!” Veronica snapped. “And get on your knees.”

Christopher dropped to his knees and started again. “Please…. I’ve got nothing left. You and your mother have already taken everything from me. I loved you once! Don’t you remember all of the good times.”

Veronica yawned as if she were bored.

Christopher tried harder. "It wasn't all bad, ws it? We had some great times. We..."

"Shut up." she said with ice in her tone. She reached in front of her and repositioned the cushioned foot rest. Propping her feet up so that her soles were exposed and facing Christopher she said “Beg me like you begged my mother. Crawl to me. Crawl to me and lick my feet.”

Christopher knelt and stared at Veronica’s feet. Could he do this? Could he accept this as his permanent fate? Adriana walked up behind him and kicked him forcefully in the back, he heel stabbing him. He fell forward on all fours. Grimacing in pain and grumbling at the situation under his breath, he started to crawl towards Veronica. His ex-wife spoke to him as he crawled and each word stabbed him in the heart. “You were never really a man. I see that now. Mother was always right about you. You are pathetic. You always were. I was blind to treat you like a man. How could you ever be head of any household?”

Christopher arrived at the feet which were facing him at eye level. Closer now, he saw them for what they were. They were filthy. The heel, ball, and toes all had a black film of dust covering them. She had obviously been walking around the house barefoot all day. "Veronica,.. please..." Christopher looked in her eyes one last time for some sign of compassion. All he saw was a content look of anticipation. Then, for the second time in a few hours, he extended his tongue and licked the sole of a foot. It was a vastly different experience. Instead of warm, clammy and cheesy as Adriana’s shoe encased foot had been. These feet were cool and dry. Instead of a sweaty, salty, cheesy taste he tasted a slight saltiness but mainly the specks of dirt, hair and dust that seemed to jumped from her foot into his mouth. He tried not to gag as he tasted the dirt. He licked at her sole and then, having learned from his earlier experience, let his tongue dance with her toes.

Unlike her mother, Adriana had perfectly soft feet everywhere. Therefore, unlike her mother each tongue stroke felt absolutely amazing. Veronica crossed her feet at the ankles basking in the physical sensation of having her feet licked and the mental satisfaction of who was doing it. She stared at Christopher and giggled at his predicament. This was glorious! Turning to her mother she shouted, “You were right mother. Yet again! I don’t know why I ever doubt you. I am very glad you brought him home like this. This will definitely give me the closure I need and this is EXACTLY how I want him to spend the rest of his days.”

The words cut through Christopher’s mind like a razor. Was this actually better than prison?

Adriana walked over to the couch and sat next to her daughter. They hugged briefly and then both stared at Christopher the way people stare at the Christmas tree after they decorate it and want to spend time admiring their work. Christopher knelt and licked the feet of the woman he once laid with in his marital bed. Her mother kicked off her shoes and propped them up across his back, opting to use him instead of the actual foot rest. In this humiliating position he licked Veronica’s feet for at least an hour as her soles went from dark and dusty to wet and shiny. Veronica never grew tired of the sensation. She never grew tired of the visual. She spread her toes inviting his tongue to new areas. She rolled her foot encouraging him to get every inch wet. She giggled each time he made a disgusted face at a new taste. Finally, once she grew tired of watching him degrade himself she engaged her mother in small talk. But she pushed the sole of her foot into his licking tongue to ensure he was clear to keep licking. His tongue was starting to cramp and grow tired but he knew he was licking to stay out of prison. So, he fought through the disgust, the cramping, the humiliation, and the sadness. While they ignored him and spoke about the latest gossip, he removed every speck of dust from her soles like an obedient dog.

macrina
12-29-2010, 1:26 PM
Thank you John great part, please my friend go on.

Atilla The Honey
12-30-2010, 2:47 AM
Fantastic story Mr. Blaze :theband:

toejam
12-30-2010, 9:15 PM
this is some great writing john please keep it up

stivalo
01-01-2011, 9:45 AM
this is really great!!!
thank you very much!
happy new yeat!

affinajoseph
01-02-2011, 8:10 AM
After a long time...a well thought and well written stuff

Goddess Affina

txordi
01-03-2011, 6:57 AM
Hi John Blaze, I was reading all their stories these days even the oldest and I noticed that some are not terms such as "The Thrill of the Sale" and "A Friendly Game of Football", I just wanted to know if you plan to finish some day, for sure to all the fans we would be happy to read the end of both stories, thank you very much

John Blaze
01-03-2011, 7:04 AM
Living Arrangements


It seemed quite possible that Veronica would have let Christopher lick her feet for the rest of the month. Indeed, she loved having him in that position so much, she probably could have. The actual physical pleasure was just a really nice bonus! However, everything came to a halt when the door suddenly opened. Christopher stopped licking and turned his head to see a cleaning lady. She was young - maybe in her mid 20s - and fairly attractive. He watched the expression on her face as it worked through the sight in front of her. She had a startled look, then a bewildered look. She made a movement backwards, as if she was ashamed for being there. Veronica called out “Marisol, wait.” Then, in Spanish too fast for Christopher to follow, she explained the situation. Christopher followed the Spanish conversation as best as he could, picking out the words he understood. Ex-husband…. Prison… Mother…. Desperate… Dog. He examined the maid’s face and saw she was starting to comprehend the situation. Then, as if to punctuate the conversation Veronica gave Christopher a swift kick in the mouth. “Keep licking… nobody told you to stop!” Christopher, embarrassed to have an audience, turned red and extended his sore, cramped tongue to continue his mission. Marisol scrunched her face in disgust but she knew better than to be judgmental of her bosses. She knew her employers were conceited elitists. It wouldn’t take much for them to get rid of her if she seemed uncomfortable. She smiled and shrugged as she closed the door behind her.

Marisol usually came by twice a week. She spoke limited English and took great pride in keeping the house clean for her two employers. They explained to her that Christopher was to help her with whatever she needed. She was in charge. Marisol had never been in charge of anyone before and she was excited for the “promotion”. Despite his worst fears about her sudden elevation in power to his boss, he found that she was a very nice woman. Still, she couldn’t help but take advantage of the situation. Although she was incredibly nice by nature, she made sure to give Christopher all of the jobs she didn’t want to do. So, on days that she worked he found himself scrubbing toilets and shining shoes. Truth be told, he was used to doing far worse than that regularly, but he was still slightly peeved that even the maid’s life was made easier by his existence. For their part, Adriana and Veronica were always very nice to her. In fact, Christopher would grow to resent the way they treated her so differently even though she did many of the same things for them that he did

In direct contrast to how nice she was to Marisol, Veronica took great pleasure and went to great lengths to ensure that Christopher’s existence was pitiful. The winter was arriving and the cold garage was a horrible place to sleep. Even so, she had an old, ripped up mattress from a cot placed on the floor in the garage next to the garbage cans. The placement of the “bed” meant that as he slept, he smelled all kinds of foulness. Furthermore, as the days and nights got colder he had to bundle up under hundreds of newspapers since neither Adriana or Veronica offered him a blanket.

Sleep, however, wasn’t usually in his forecast. He spent his time washing their cars, raking the yard, running to the store, doing their laundry, and cooking them meals. On “Marisol days” as he called them, he would scrub all 6 bathrooms to a shine and do other menial tasks. Given his schedule, he took sleep whenever he could get it. An hour here, an hour there – Christopher became the king of the power nap. However, covered in newspapers next to the trash during a mid-day nap proved a hazardous place to sleep. It seemed that at least once a week Marisol would accidentally step on him. Twice she stepped forcefully on his face while trying to dump the trash. Christopher noticed that she was always incredibly sweet and apologetic about it afterwards. However, he wondered if she was so “sorry” why she hadn’t learned to be much more careful by now. After one such incident Adriana noticed that Marisol was visibly embarrassed. When she asked her in Spanish what was wrong, Marisol explained that she had just accidentally stepped on Christopher’s face. Adriana laughed and remarked to her daughter that Christopher was stuck in his predicament, “getting walked on like the scum on our shoes… even Marisol’s”. This mental image delighted Veronica. She decided that shoe scum would be the “theme” for his time with them. He had already been their foot licker, but she was about to “step it up”.

Put to Work


Ironically, his existence as a formal slave was eerily similar to his existence as her husband. Veronica came home and dropped her clothes wherever she saw fit. Christopher would scramble to clean up behind her. Then he would set the table with the dinner he had prepared. He usually spent the time following the meal rubbing her feet after her long day at work, just as he had as her husband. There were some “subtle” differences though. Now, instead of sitting on the couch with her, he knelt in front of the lazy boy recliner and silently massaged her feet as she sipped her wine and watched TV. And as for dinner, gone were the days of sitting at the table. Now, sticking with the “theme” he had a “place” set on the floor in the corner. To signify his place in life, his food (scraps mostly) was set out for him in three of her old, well worn shoes. The closed toe pump had warm water for him to drink, the raggedy leather flat would hold whatever his “meal” was for the day, and an old flip flop that was covered with the dirty imprint of her foot served as a bread plate – for the old stale bread or muffin that was especially saved for him. He knew to eat a huge lunch before she came home because the small amount food in her shoes for dinner was (a) disgusting and degrading and (b) never enough. For a while this worked well enough. Christopher was pleased with himself for the small moral victory of at least eating one fantastic meal per day. With Veronica at work, this was his only real “alone time” to be normal (unless Adriana was around). He always enjoyed a gourmet lunch. He started to actually forgo his “meal” with Veronica, reclaiming some of his dignity. However, Veronica would grow increasingly angry if he didn’t eat his dinner, so he accepted that he would always grovel in the corner eating out of her old shoes while she enjoyed the feast he had prepared for her – even though the act of doing so actually robbed him of his appetite.

This humiliating dinner ranked just above having his face stepped on by the maid as a hated part of his new “normal” life. But what Christopher hated most of all were his “foot softening” sessions with his ex-mother-in-law. True to her word, Adriana loved using Christopher as a personal pedicure technician. It was set in her calendar as a priority every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Three times a week she forced him to use everything at his disposal, including his mouth, to make her feet smooth and soft.

The routine was always the same. Adriana would come over towards the end of the day. She’d sit in her favorite recliner and Christopher would kneel in front of her and remove her shoes. He would have a warm foot bath and a pedicure kit ready to go. However, Adriana would require him to lick her feet first. She wanted him to “experience” them fresh out of her shoes. She judged how progressively soft her feet were getting from this ritual based on how good the foot licking felt. As her feet got softer they also became more sensitive. Other than this little test, there was no real reason for this …besides her need to always make him feel as if he were garbage to her. Next, he would soak her feet in warm water and simultaneously gently scrub them with a special loofa. This loosened much of the dead skin and hard spots. Then, the “fun” would begin. He would take each foot and “work” on it. Using his tongue and his teeth Christopher licked and scraped at harder areas now that they had been softened by the bath. He swallowed any dead skin that he managed to dislodge. He concentrated on the three calloused areas – her big toe, the ball of her foot, and her heel. Adriana loved to shove her heel in his mouth and let him suck, chew, and lick on it as her calluses broke off into soft bits of dead skin and he was forced to swallow them. After this went on for twenty or so minutes, he re-soaked them briefly and dried them off with a warm towel. He would then spend the next twenty or so minutes giving her a relaxing and thorough foot massage with special aloes and baby oil. 90% of the time, this would put her to sleep. Christopher would make sure to massage just a little longer until he was sure she was asleep. Then he would slink away and brush his teeth and gargle mouthwash with such intensity his gums would sometimes bleed. After the first few “appointments” he cried himself to sleep on his uncomfortable cot. After a while, however, he just numbly stared at the ceiling and meditated on how much he hated Adriana. She could afford a pedicure every day if she wanted to. But no… this bitch felt compelled to use him in this way.

After the most recent appointment Adriana awoke from her nap and reached down to feel her soles. She marveled at how soft they were getting. She couldn’t help but laugh to herself as she remembered the first time her then son-in-law massaged her feet. It was hilarious to her that he was so upset that he had massaged her feet at his wife’s request and had gotten no gratitude. He had even commented on how hard and smelly they were. “Look at you now” she thought. “Every other day you literally eat my feet. What I shed from my foot is now your bed time snack.!” These foot softening sessions were the highlight of her day. No matter how rough her day was, she knew a stress relief session was on the way. If she was really lucky, she’d occasionally get a laugh as he choked on a flake of skin. As she closed her eyes to return to sleep, she smiled at how fortunate she was that this joke of a man had gotten himself into such trouble that she could manipulate him in this way.

A Third Enemy

The days were getting longer and harder. Christopher wondered if he would be able to actually maintain this arrangement after all. He couldn’t wait until his trial was over so he could be free from these sociopath bitches. However, the big time lawyer Adriana had hired to handle the case only seemed to be good at getting everything repeatedly delayed. Christopher started to wonder if he really might be stuck here forever.

The day was Wednesday. Although the days were starting to run together in his mind, he knew it was Wednesday because he was expecting Adriana for her “pedicure” appointment. Veronica had planted a vegetable garden in the back yard and she was insistent that the plants be watered at 3 am. Apparently, she had read somewhere that this was optimal. Of course, SHE wasn’t getting up to water them. Thus began Christopher’s day. From there he began his usual chores and assignments. He worked until about 11 am and when he was all caught up with his work he went back to the garage for a power nap. He only had about an hour to sleep before Marisol arrived and his work continued. Christopher was actually in the middle of a deep sleep for the first time in a long time when he felt a sharp pain on his cheek and was awoken. He sat up startled, casting his newspaper blankets aside. There, holding her open mouth with both hands in embarrassment, was Marisol. She stepped on his face dumping the trash… again. Sleep deprivation and an ego that could sink no lower took control of Christopher’s mouth.

“Damnit Marisol!”

“So sorry. So sorry” she repeated in an honest apology.

“Screw that! You do this all of the time! You need to be more careful!”

Marisol stepped away from the very angry Christopher. She was truly sorry, but she wondered why he was so upset with her. Clearly, Veronica and Adriana treated him like shit all of the time. Eating out of shoes, licking Adriana’s feet, wearing that ridiculous pink apron Adriana bought him, and washing panties by hand… Marisol had seen it all

As if he could read her mind, Christopher shouted “What? You think you can treat me like shit too? Everyone can just step on ol’ Chris and he won’t care! He’s dirt!”

Marisol tried to offer more apologies but Christopher kept shouting. Finally, unable to find the words in English she said to Christopher in Spanish, “I’ve always been very nice to you. I don’t treat you like they do.”

Christopher, who’s Spanish was getting better but was still not perfect replied in broken Spanish that roughly translated into “Yes, but you don’t speak up for me either.”

Marisol retorted “They treat me good. Besides, you’re a big, strong man and you allow them to treat you like dirt? Then, that’s on you to change your situation.”

Christopher couldn’t quite understand everything she said, but he got the jist. He cursed at her in Spanish.

Marisol, growing offended and angry replied “That’s not fair. I’m just doing my job. I’m trying to make a better life for my children.”

Again, Christopher couldn’t quite make it all out but he responded the best he could. “Your kids will be maids too. Or maybe deported. Illegal bitch!”

Marisol was stunned. “Take that back!”

Christopher saw that she was deeply hurt by his comments. He didn’t know why, but it felt good to hurt someone else. It felt good to not be the bottom feeder for once. Christopher chanted in a song like tone just as a child taunting another “Illegal bitch! Illegal bitch! Your kids will clean toilets. Illegal bitch”

Marisol’s eyes teared up at the insults that cut her deep. Then she stormed off and Christopher went back to sleep. As he closed his eyes he grumbled to himself “Freak’n maid. Thinks she can treat me like shit. Showed her.” He slipped quickly back to sleep.

For the second time in twenty minutes Christopher was awoken by a sharp pain on his face. This time however he couldn’t sit up. It took him a second to put it all together, but he figured it out soon enough. Standing above him was Veronica. She had her foot on his face. The sole of her open toed designer heel was pressing on his temple and her pointy heel was digging into his cheek. She stood over him with her foot pinning him to the ground and he hands on her hips. Based on the pain vibrating in his head, he deduced that she must have stomped on him forcefully to wake him up.

“Marisol has told me that you have upset her with your very unkind and bigoted words. He could make out the black flats of Marisol next to his head. She was standing with Veronica. Veronica scolded him for the next few minutes. “Have you forgotten you place? You are here as our dog.. our mule. In fact, you are lower than that. Remember your place!” She pressed her foot firmly against his head as she spoke and her heel dug very forcefully into his face as she shifted more weight to her heel. “You are the scum on our shoes! The sock lint in between my toes! You have no say! You don’t speak poorly to ANYONE! Not even Marisol!” Christopher heard Marisol giggling as he was put in his place. “Now” she paused for a moment. “I asked Marisol if we should cancel or arrangement and throw you back in jail.” Christopher held his breath at the thought, planning what he would say to beg for forgiveness. “But… she said no. So, we have come up with another more suitable punishment. Marisol has informed me that the most treasured part of your day is your lunchtime.” Christopher cringed like a prisoner who was about to lose exercise yard privileges. “She will be in charge of your lunch from now on.” Veronica transferred even more weight onto her heel and Christopher called out in pain. “You better not upset her, my mother, or me again… or I swear you will do twenty years in prison!” Veronica removed her foot from his face and stormed off.

Christopher stood up and looked at Marisol. She had a look on her face that seemed to say “Gotcha”!

“Come” she said. Christopher followed her as she walked to the kitchen. “Almost lunch time” she said pointing to the clock. Christopher looked up and saw that there was only an hour until he got a short break. He wondered what Marisol had planned for his meal. He watched her go to the fridge, take out some ingredients, and slowly make two bologna sandwiches. They actually looked pretty good compared to what he had imagined she might do. Then, Christopher’s jaw dropped as he watched her slowly slip off her left shoe, place the sandwich neatly inside, and slide her barefoot back into the black flat. Then, she repeated the process with her other foot. Christopher looked down at her black shoes that contained his “lunch”. He watched the outline of her toes wiggling against the soft fake leather. “Mmmmm, yummy.” She teased. Again, pointing at the clock she added “One hour. Now, you clean toilets.”

For the next hour Christopher scrubbed the toilets. He was kicking himself for turning the closest thing he had to a friend into a vindictive enemy. Exactly one our later he heard Marisol call out “lunch time”. Christopher did the long walk of shame to accept his punishment from the maid. He entered the kitchen and started washing his hands… as if cleanliness would matter now. Marisol walked into the kitchen. She was visibly sweaty from whatever she was doing. Christopher thought that she hadn’t worked this hard sine he’d known her. Clearly, he thought, she was trying hard to marinate his meal by sweating just a little bit extra. Marisol went to the fridge and took out a container of soup. She heated it up in the microwave and poured a cold glass of water. Then, she sat on the kitchen chair and crossed her legs. She had a wide smile on her face She slurped a spoonful of soup and stared at Christopher with a mocking smile.

Christopher decided he’d do best to get it over with. He knelt in front of Marisol and grabbed the dangling foot with two hands. He removed her shoe and immediately smelt a pungent odor. He looked in the shoe and saw the mashed sandwich. He looked up at Marisol. Surely she was too sweet to make him do this. He was met with a familiar expectant smile. For a split second he thought he was dealing with Adriana. “Better get it over with” he thought. He pushed his hand into the shoe and pried the “insole” out of the old nasty shoe by scooping his hand under it. Holding it with both hands, he stared at the sandwich… then at Marisol’s smiling face.. then down at her bare foot. Then he bit it. The taste was indescribably disgusting. The warm bologna and cheese seemed fused together from the heat of being in the hot shoe. The flattened soggy bread had absorbed at least a small glass worth of Marisol’s foot sweat and the bite released the tastes into his mouth. But the kicker was the mayonnaise. The warm mayonnaise that had mixed with foot funk and shoe leather to make a concoction so foul that Christopher could hardly take it. He gulped down the sandwich quickly, deciding that to eat it slowly would be torture. Then he felt it coming back up. He ran to the sink and expelled the foul sandwich. Marisol laughed an clapped in amusement. Christopher finished vomiting and washed his mouth and face. He turned around and looked at the smiling Marisol. She immediately re-crossed her legs and dangled her shoe off of her toes. He looked down and saw the other sandwich in her shoe. “Almost done” she teased. Christopher, surprised that he could actually sink any lower or feel any more shame than he had for the past few weeks, started to cry. Then he knelt and repeated the ritual. The second sandwich seemed even more foul. Gulping the first one down didn’t work, so he ate this one slower. In doing so, he tasted things a human should never taste… slowly, as he ate his lunch bit by bit. But, fast or slow – there was no hope.

After vomiting the second time and cleaning his face again he turned to look at Marisol. She was still smiling, but now it was a vindicated smile. The look on her face made Christopher shake with anger. But all he could do was take it… eat it… literally. She virtually skipped out of the kitchen. “Let’s finish up” she said as she disappeared from view. Just as Christopher was collecting his spirit from the floor, the front door opened. It was Adriana… she was early.

“I can’t wait for this!” she shouted excitedly. “These boots are killing me! CHRISTOPHER? WHERE ARE YOU?”

He almost forgot…it’s Wednesday. He slumped to the floor in the fetal position and started rocking back and forth. He was crying uncontrollably.

Adriana’s voice continued. “My feet have been in these things all day with no socks! Bring me a glass of wine! I need a tongue on my toes and a stiff drink. That will relax me. CHRISTOPHER, HURRY UP!”

Christopher stood up and washed his face with cold water. Turning towards the sound of her voice, he walked slowly towards his next task. A long day just got longer!

ensgk189
01-03-2011, 12:38 PM
You are unbelievable! This is you best work since The Hatred of Clarice Favreaux please continue!

affinajoseph
01-03-2011, 4:19 PM
Do you have any plans to get him physically beaten?

Goddess Affina

macrina
01-03-2011, 9:14 PM
Jonh thank you very much, for a fantastic part.

John Blaze
01-04-2011, 3:52 AM
Do you have any plans to get him physically beaten?

Goddess Affina


In a word... yes!

affinajoseph
01-04-2011, 5:28 AM
look forward to

macrina
01-04-2011, 6:39 AM
Cant wait, maybe she find a other men to humiliate hem olso.

John Blaze
01-05-2011, 9:57 AM
All good things must come to an end... please enjoy the conclusion of this story. I think you will find that it does the story justice! Let me know what you think.
********************************

That night Adriana was in rare form. She told him before he began that she had a very rough day and needed him to do an extra special job of making her feel relaxed. SHE had a rough day? Christopher thought about his day so far and cringed. She didn’t even KNOW what rough was! Once they began, she couldn’t seem to get enough of him licking her feet. Her feet were clammy and salty from being in her knee high brown leather boots all day. He got an occasional break only to refill her glass of wine. Christopher licked her feet for what seemed like an eternity. Adriana drank an entire bottle of wine while she enjoyed her foot service. She had him lick and massage and suck and massage and lick and massage until his tongue and hands hurt. With her feet now baby soft from the weeks of this service, she didn’t want the traditional foot bathing and scrubbing. Instead, it was all mouth and hand service. As she got more and more intoxicated on wine (and power) she started to talk down to him. “Remember when you thought you could be a member of my family? Remember when my daughter actually thought you were a man? That there could be some use for you?”. Giggling to herself she added “you thought you’d be some big time business mogul or something. But I knew you for what you were! This… a pathetic worm!” Her words hit him like left and right hooks as he licked her toes. After what seemed like forever, she finally told him to massage her with the oils that signified the end to their appointment. As usual, she fell asleep having transferred all of her negative energy and stress to him.

Almost at the exact moment that she fell asleep, Veronica came through the door. She was also in a foul mood. Any thoughts Chris had of a moment to relax were destroyed. Instead, he hurried to get Veronica comfortable and serve her dinner. He ate in the corner out of his shoe place settings while she ate comfortably at the table and then rubbed her feet until she too fell asleep. Finally, exhausted and deflated he slunk back to the garage and went to sleep amidst the trash. This was the worst and longest day of his life. However, he knew that it was now the norm. Up at 3 am to water the plants and nonstop humiliation for the rest of the day.

And so it was. Christopher went though the next weeks like a zombie. He sunk into a clinical depression and could hardly stand living. The only thing that kept him going was the thought of being free from all of this mess one day soon. On “Marisol Days” he was treated to new and creative forms of humiliation as she never stopped enjoying her power over his lunch. She would soak her feet in hot water while he worked all morning and then use the water to make him a special soup, she would repeat the “shoe sandwich” technique, she would cook a fantastic meal and then dump it in the garbage so he could fish it out and eat it by hand, anything and everything she could think of became his lunchtime ritual. Christopher felt himself going insane.

The Beginning of the End

Eventually, one day Marisol went for the jugular. Growing bolder and bolder each day, she decided not to work at all this day. She instead had him prepare her a warm foot soak. The entire morning he ran around the house doing all of the work and she sat on the sofa watching Spanish soap operas. When he was done, she had him kneel and give her a foot massage and pedicure. He couldn’t believe that this was his life now. He knelt and massaged the feet of the maid, soaking them in the water. She hadn’t bothered to clean them and her soles were filthy black. Soon the water was dark and a mixture of the dirt from her feet and the dead skin and toenail clippings from her massage and pedicure. As he scrubbed her feet, Christopher thanked his lucky stars that at least she had not required him to give her the “Adriana special”! That day Veronica came home early. She was with Adriana and as they walked into the living room and saw Christopher servicing the feet of the maid they chuckled. “Well played Marisol!” Adriana laughed.

“Mom, you want to tell Christopher what happened today?

“Sure darling. Christopher, I have good news for you. Our lawyer met with the prosecution today. Its all over.”

Christopher couldn’t believe it. He jumped up off of the floor at least 3 feet into the air. He felt as if he could fly. His time was done! He was free! No longer was he captive to the whims of these maniacal bitches who loved to rub his face in the dirt! He was laughing and crying tears of joy.

Adriana continued “Yep. We really are going to miss you around here. But, you took it like a… (she paused as though she hated to say the next words)… man …so we held up our end of the bargain. 15 months and you’ll be all done.”

Christopher stopped jumping. “Uh… what?”

“15 months. Our lawyer pleaded you down to 15 months. They wanted almost 20 years. Isn’t that great?”

Christopher’s mind raced. He had spent months in this house as a foot licking, errand running, menial task completing, foot stool. He had endured licking feet, rubbing feet, cleaning toilets, sleeping in the trash, and getting unthinkably degraded by the maid. He was on the brink of insanity and could hardly recognize himself as a man. Now, after all that… he was STILL going to jail?

He looked at Adriana. Her eyes seemed so coy. Had she set him up? Had she even tried to avoid jail time? Christopher lost it all. Months of sub human living exploded in a fit of rage. He charged Adriana and knocked her to the ground. He was straddling her body and choking her with both hands. “If I’m going to jail… I’m going for a reason! You never thought I was worth a damn! You always looked down on me… well, you die today! And it will be by MY hands. Suck on that you old, crazy bitch!”

Adriana’s eyes started to bulge out of her head. Christopher started to laugh. Revenge… redemption… respect! All of his pain would be vindicated! CRACK. He fell to the side dizzy. Looking up he saw Marisol with a rolling pin. A rolling pin??? How cartoonishly cliché! And the maid? Where is Veronica. Out of the corner of his eye he saw her shoe come flying in. Her open toed mule seemed to move in slow motion. He could make out her dark red toenails through the black fishnets. CRACK. Her foot snapped his head back violently. Then he felt pain everywhere. Marisol and Veronica were kicking and stomping on him. He had a tremendous sense of déjà vu as he was kicked into oblivion for the second time… beat down 2.0!!! He heard Adriana coughing. She scrambled to her feet and collected herself. He picked her voice out of all of the commotion “You dare put your hands on me!!!” Then he felt her kicking him too. He could tell who was who by the feel of the kicks. Marisol was still barefoot and her feet were still wet from the foot soak he had been giving her only moments before. To avoid hurting her barefoot she wasn’t kicking him but stomping him – heel first aimed mostly at his head. She was quick and he couldn’t cover himself completely as he tried to deflect the kicks from all three women. Her foot kept slipping through his defenses and cracking his face, bouncing his head off of the carpet. Adriana’s kicks were the hardest as they were driven by an intense rage. She was kicking him mainly in the stomach and rib area. Her pointy dress shoe felt like a steel rod cramming into his body. Veronica was kicking him in the back and stomping down on his side. Then one of Veronica’s stomps jammed her heel so forcefully into his arm just inside the elbow that he felt a white hot pain and then it became numb and useless. Christopher felt that she must have just given him some nerve damage and he hoped it was only temporary.

All three women kicked Christopher mercilessly. His face, stomach, back, and ribs all felt pain repeatedly. Christopher knew that he had to defend himself or they might kill him. Women or not, their ferocious kicks were truly taking their toll. Christopher rolled over and sprung up to all fours as fast as he could. He was a split second from getting to his feet, poised in a sprinter’s stance ready to lunge forward and fight back when he felt his left arm give out on him… the nerve damage was worse than he thought! What now? He turned towards Adriana and sprung forward with all of his might, determined to tackle her… even with only one good arm. At that exact moment, Veronica placed a well timed kick right into his face. Her shoe exploded into his mouth busting both lips and loosening a bottom tooth. This changed the trajectory of his lunge and he sprung towards the couch landing face first in the basin of foul, blackened water combined with gunk from the maid’s feet. Even with the pain he was feeling, he immediately knew he was in the disgusting pool of water. Before he could get his face out of the basin, he felt his head shoved forcefully down to the bottom. Marisol had run over and stomped on his head. Now her barefoot pinned his face and head under the nasty water as she stood with most of her weight on him. In a panic as she had stomped his face, Christopher had taken a breath. This let a burst of water into his throat and airways causing a vicious chain reaction. Now, he was coughing and sputtering as he choked on the mix of warm water, dirt, and crud from Marisol’s feet. He wasn’t only drowning in the water but he felt himself drinking it as well. With only one good arm, he couldn’t get any leverage to knock Marisol off or push himself out of the basin. At the bottom of the basin, his face was forced onto her old toenail clippings. So as her foot pinned him down, and he mouth and throat filled themselves with the vile liquid, her dead toenails were digging into and scratching his face. The irony of the situation entered his head and for a split second Christopher was overcome by the inevitability that if he were to die, it only seemed fitting that it would be this way… drowning in skunky foot water. Marisol continued to apply pressure to his head as she watched his arms flailing and mouth splashing bubbles into the concoction of foot grime that she was forcing him to drink and inhale.

Meanwhile, Adriana and Veronica were still kicking him in his ribs and back mercilessly. In a last ditched effort to live, Christopher pushed with both hands on the basin and managed to get just enough motion to flip it. As he pushed it forward, it tilted inwards towards him and spilled the water into his face. He knocked it away and coughed , gasping for fresh air. The women didn’t miss a beat. As Christopher rejoiced that he hadn’t drowned he quickly noticed that he was still getting kicked and that Marisol’s barefoot still pinned his head to the floor. Even her old toe nail clippings were still stuck to the underside of his face and digging into him as her foot pinned him down uncomfortably into the soaked carpet.

Then, as Adriana looked down at Christopher her anger subsided. Even though he had just tried to kill her, she was amused at the sight of how pathetic he was. As she stomped down on him with her expensive heels, she started laughing. The laughter was contagious. Now, all three women were laughing. It almost looked like 3 old friends stomping grapes and laughing at how fun it was.

Christopher felt humiliated. He had been through so much. Still, for some reason, the sound of this joyful laughter at his expense seemed to really dig into him. “Stop laughing at me!” This plea only caused more raucous laughter. Christopher didn’t know what was happening. Maybe his mind couldn’t take any more, maybe he was reverting mentally to a child as it cracked, or maybe the human spirit can only take so much. Whatever it was, the sound of their laughter seemed to drown out everything else. Like a tormented and mentally ill child, he balled up in the fetal position and started crying. “Stop laughing at me… stop laughing at me” Christopher’s pathetic childlike pleas caused all three women to laugh so hard that their stomach muscles cramped. Soon, their laughter drowned out even the physical pain. He couldn’t even tell if he was being kicked anymore. He was only aware of two things – Marisol was standing on her face with her barefoot and all three women were having the time of their lives at his expense. Sobbing like a child being bullied he kept crying and pleading for some dignity “Stop laughing at me!”


Saying Goodbye

Soon the laughter subsided and he was on the ground shivering. His brain had shut down… maybe he went into shock… maybe he passed out… he wasn’t sure. Now, with his senses about him he could feel all of the pain. His entire body was in anguish. He felt like he had been trampled by a group of horses. They had really worked him over. He tasted his own blood and could tell that some of it was dried up around his mouth. He also tasted and smelled what he could only assume to be the old, dirty foot water… now dried on his face. Despite the pain in his muscles, he tried to get up. However, he soon realized he was tied down. He looked around and saw that he was outside in the front yard. He was tied to four stakes and spread eagle. In the distance he heard sirens.

Adriana explained the situation to him. “After you passed out, we called the police. We told them how you assaulted me. Since you were released to my custody from the beginning, this will likely add to your sentence. They were very glad that we were able to subdue you. I told them we would tie you up and leave you for them outside… since you were too dangerous to keep in the house.”

Veronica stepped in. “But, before you go to jail we wanted to say goodbye… in our own special way. And how else would you say goodbye to shoe scum… except to walk on it one last time.” She smiled down at Christopher, almost lovingly. Then she said “Marisol.. you first.”

Marisol who was standing between his legs, stepped up onto his stomach with her black flats. She stepped forward and with both feet standing on his chest she looked down at him smiling. After tormenting him for weeks and helping her bosses kick the crap out of him earlier today, she said the words that finally gave her closure. She pointed her finger in his face and said in her best English “My children no be maids! Me no illegal bitch! You prison bitch… and .. you MY bitch” Then, he watched as she stepped forward. He turned his head so she didn’t step on his bruised mouth and nose. With the sole of her shoe covering his cheek, she walked on his face and stepped forward.

Adriana stepped up onto his stomach next. Her expensive heels digging into his stomach. She then stepped forward and with both feet on his chest she looked down at Christopher. Their eyes locked in an intense stare down. He looked like he wanted to kill her. She looked beautiful, victorious, and smug. She started “Christopher. I knew you were not right for my daughter. I tried to tell you. All of this could have been avoided. But, I’m glad it wasn’t! It was good for me! Was it good for you?” Christopher turned red with anger. “Well, this will be the last you see of us. When you get out of prison, whenever that is, we will have restraining orders against you. So, if you come near us you will return to the penn! Therefore, the last thing you will remember of me will be me stepping on your face. But… “ she added joyfully, “just look at how much softer my feet are thanks to you!” With that she removed her shoe and placed her damp barefoot in his face. As he tried in vain to avoid her foot, she caressed his face with her bare sole and played with his lips with her toes. Then he heard that laughter he had grown to hate as the bare foot stepped on the side of his face and Adriana exited his life.

Veronica stepped onto his stomach and then chest next. She looked down at him. He searched her eyes for any sign of love… pity… remorse. There was something there… but it was more like the way someone looks at a dying dog.

Veronica didn’t say anything at first. Then, she slipped her fishnet covered foot out of the mule and held it over his face. “Kiss my foot, beg for my forgiveness and I will forgive you for everything. We can have a good, clean break.”

Christopher couldn’t believe his ears. Beg for forgiveness? Forgive HIM??? He was driven to a craze by the audacity of his ex-wife. He turned his face to the side and closed his eyes. “Step on my face in this little ritual if you want to… but I’m not apologizing for anything. In fact…AAAHHH” . His words were interrupted by her foot slamming into his defenseless balls. The shoe wearing foot slammed itself heel first into his sack four times. He cried out and tears of pain ran down his face. She turned around and offered him the sole of her stockinged foot again. The tears of pain turned into tears of shame as he realized he had no choice. He had been ruined and abused, humiliated and crushed. And even now as he prepared mentally to go to prison, he resigned himself to the idea that his last free act would be to humiliate himself and beg for forgiveness from his tormentor.

Christopher craned his neck upwards and placed a firm kiss on the damp sole of his ex-wife. “I’m sorry… I’m sorry… please forgive me”

Veronica smiled down at him. “I do. Now, as I step on you face do not turn your head to the side. Offer me your face upright… offer me the best of yourself for once”. Then she stepped forward. Her foot covered his entire face. Her heel pressed against his battered mouth, her forefoot crushed down on his bloodied nose, and her toes rested on his forehead . As she stepped full weight onto his face, Christopher had to bull his neck to not let his face turn under the weight. Her body weight was crushing his already battered face and the pain was white hot. In the full context of their relationship, this was a fitting way for them to spend their last moments together. Christopher suffering at the feet of his former love and Veronica firmly signaling to the world that he was beneath her. She closed her eyes and paused with all of her weight on his head: one foot firmly squashing his face and the other elevated ready to step forward. Christopher shook as he struggled to support he weight. She felt the cool breeze kissing her face and caressing her hair. She concentrated on his facial features under her foot. They felt right at home and she let her foot sink into his face like a comfortable old shoe. She didn’t want this moment to end. Tomorrow, there would be no foot licking errand boy. Life would be normal again She milked the moment for as long as she cared to. Christopher’s pain and the weight of the woman on his face started to get the best of him. Even now, as the sirens got louder signifying the closeness of those who were coming to take him away, he was nothing more to the woman he once loved then a comforting gel insole! He started to moan in pain and frustration. In her heightened sense of awareness - almost meditating on her foot’s connection with his face – his moaning sent vibrations into her foot and added a new element, extending her pleasure and the time she stood on his face.

Veronica spoke to Christopher one last time. “Thank you. Thank you giving to me what other women must find in the old, comfortable shoes that have molded to the shape of your foot. Most of them will never know what it feels like to have that shoe come alive and serve you like a fairy tale” Christopher cried more freely now. Were these the last words Veronica would speak to him? Thanking him not for being a man or for being a good husband. Thanking him for essentially being the weakest human she knew and feeding her ego and power. Essentially, she called him a walking, talking old shoe! Truly, there was closure now. Truly they were done. He had been forced to kiss her foot and beg for forgiveness and she had enjoyed the last moments of her foot firmly in his face. Veronica opened her eyes and looked down, taking in the visual of her foot on his face. Then, when she had burned this moment into both of their brains forever, she moved on.


Christopher wondered how different his life could have been if he never married Veronica. Or, if he had married her, but had been able to find work. Or, if he had a normal and loving mother-in-law. Or…. There were a million “or”s. But as the damp fishnetted foot of Veronica slowly left his face, peeling itself away, he realized none of that mattered. This was his life now.


Epilogue

On the bus that was taking him to prison Christopher sat numb and emotionless. They say the last thing you experience with some thing or someone stands out the most. The last high school foot ball game. The last date before you break up with a girlfriend. The last day at you old job. It must have been true. Because, despite all of the years of marriage and the months of servitude… all of the wretched and horrible things he was forced to experience… he often thinks back to the day Adriana and Veronica… and even Marisol… literally walked on him and out of his life. But what he remembered most was that extended period of time where Veronica basked in her glory with her foot covering his face as he lay in pain too weak and pathetic to do anything about it. That image would haunt him forever… just the way she wanted it

macrina
01-05-2011, 1:13 PM
Thank you for a wonderfull storie John. Thank you very much.

txordi
01-06-2011, 4:41 AM
What a great last part, with feet humiliation and violence, thank you very much

Sauur
01-06-2011, 8:50 AM
Fantastic work! Really did a great job on this story, 5 stars! :)

stivalo
01-09-2011, 4:45 PM
That was really cool!!!
I loved every word of it!

palatino
01-11-2011, 6:02 AM
'Reaching out his hand, he cupped her foot under the heel as his tongue slowly stroked upwards. He could taste a thin layer of sweat as the salty residue stuck to his tongue and dried out his mouth. He smelt and tasted the faint cheesiness of a foot that had been marinating in its own sweat for a while. With his eyes closed he was acutely aware of all of the tastes and the sensations her foot had to offer him. Like a blind man reading Braille, he felt his way around. His tongue left her hardened heel for the softer skin of her arch before returning to the rough and hardened ball of her foot.

Retracting his tongue he looked up at Adriana, prepared for the smug look of satisfaction he was certain he would see. However, instead he simply saw her raise her eyebrows expectantly. “That’s it?” she asked sounding slightly surprised. “I was expecting more from a man on the verge of a long prison sentence. Convince me you are ready to accept my terms. Show me your gratitude for my help.”

The tears that were falling periodically from his cheeks increased in intensity as he came to grips with the fact that his humiliating task wasn’t over. He leaned in for round two. Realizing he would be at this until this bitch of a woman was satisfied, he licked quicker now. With long deliberate strokes, he lapped repeatedly at her sole like a cat cleaning itself.

FANTASTICS WORDS

THANKS

Frankenstein2009
01-17-2011, 10:13 AM
Do you have a mental pic of what Adriana looks like? Post a pic to go with this if you can, please. Great story by the way. I'm a big fan.

bowndown
06-05-2011, 3:44 PM
Great story, one of the best i've ever read

naruto_sano
06-15-2011, 9:14 AM
fantastic work thanks