A Foot Slave Forever part 4.

[aussiefootslave]

Part 4.
The next morning I awoke with Janice’s foot in my face. I kissed it and said again, “I am your slave Mistress Janice.” Patty wasn’t there; I found out later that she had gotten up first because there was always a fight to get to the bathroom on Sunday mornings.
Janice looked down at me under her foot, “I think you really are beginning to understand what you are slave; doesn’t it bother you that you’ll spend the rest of your life under the feet of girls?”
She moved her foot from my lips to my cheek so that I could speak. I answered, “No it doesn’t bother me Mistress Janice; I know that it must be that way; girls are better than I am; I love you Mistress Janice.”
Just then Patty walked in and said, “do you love me too slave?”
I answered truthfully, “yes, Mistress Patty, I love all superior girls and I will be an obedient for all my life if you permit it.”
Janice stood up to take her turn in the bathroom and Patty sat on the bed and put her foot in my face. I immediately knew what to do and said, “I am your slave Mistress Patty” and began kissing the bottom of her foot.
She watched for a while and then took her foot away and ordered me to run downstairs and fetch the shoes that I had polished for her and Janice. I was naked but she commanded me to go anyway.
I walked into the hall pretty scared that I might run into her mom or dad. What would they think, what would they say, if they caught me running around the house naked? I was perspiring from being nervous. I crept as silently as I could to the head of the stairs and tried to listen for sounds downstairs. I didn’t hear anybody so I crept down the stairs.
I went across the living room, through the small dining room, and almost into the kitchen. The shoes were still in the far corner where I had sat to polish them yesterday. I crept into the kitchen and was just about to pick up the shoes when I heard someone coming behind me. I almost panicked; I quickly slid down to the floor and crouched beside the stove.
It was Mrs. B., she walked in, humming to herself. I peeked around the corner and saw her arranging something on the table. Thank heaven she wasn’t cooking or she’d be right here at the stove; she’d see me for sure. How could I explain why I was naked hiding behind the stove in the kitchen? I thought she’d find me or hear me breathing but she didn’t. She turned around and went back through the dining room.
I just sat there silently, listening for several minutes. My nerves felt shattered. Finally, I picked up the four pair of shoes, cradled them in my arms, and headed for the doorway. Mrs. B. wasn’t there, so I went through the dining and living rooms and started up the stairs. I knew this was a most vulnerable spot. There was no where to hide if someone caught me on the stairway. No one did, and I made it back to the girl’s room shaking like a leaf. I had just heard their father opening the bathroom door as I scooted inside their room.
I closed the door behind me and looked at them. They both sat, fully dressed, on the edge of the bed. Patty had white stockings on and Janice wore pink knee socks. I walked over to them and knelt down. I placed the shiny shoes on the floor at their feet and recited my oath, “I am your slave Mistress Patty; I am your slave Mistress Janice.” I bowed down and kissed their feet.
Both girls decided to wear the low heel, patent leather shoes to church and I put the shoes on their beautiful feet for them. They left the room telling me to hurry up and get dressed for church or their dad would be mad. I dressed like lightening, combed my hair, and bounded down the stairs. I kept daydreaming that this was just our house, Patty, Janice, and me, and that their mom and dad were gone. I could be the girl’s slave twenty-four hours a day. I would work for them and worship them night and day. I dreamed this fantasy all through church and at one point Mrs. B. had to nudge me; she new I was “somewhere else.”
Once we were back at their house, the girls went up to change while Mr. B. told me that I should pay attention in church. I apologized and said I was missing my parents. He said that he understood and Mrs. B. said that was “sweet.” I went upstairs to change my clothes, too, but when I got into the girl’s room I saw that they hadn’t changed anything; hadn’t even taken their shoes off.
Patty started with, “come here slave, I want you to undress me and worship my butt like you did last night; I want some more French kisses.”
I crawled over to her and bent down to remove her shoes. They slid off easily, and as I held her beautiful foot in my hands she asked, “You’re really starting to like this aren’t you, slave?”
I whispered, “yes, Mistress Patty” while staring at her foot.
She pulled it from my hands and said, “Undress me slave.”
As she stood and turned her back to me, I reached up and unzipped the back of her dress. I then stood and pulled it up over her head and took it to the closet and put it on a hanger for her. At this point Janice said, “see you later Patty; see you later foot pervert,” and left.
I returned to Patty and knelt before her again. She turned her back to me and I unhooked her bra. She turned again and I pulled her bra over her shoulders. Her breasts were small but I got mighty hard looking at them above me as I knelt before her.
She took a few steps back and sat on the edge of the bed and I crawled over to her on my knees. I was beginning to get rug burns on my knees from all the kneeling and crawling her and Janice had been making me do.
Patty crossed her legs and extended a foot toward me. She was acting like a much older girl, like a woman. She sat there with her bare breasts, her crossed legs, and her stockinged foot extended toward me. She was so sexy that my hands trembled as I reached to her thigh and began to remove her white stocking. I brought it gently down her leg, over her knee, down her calf, over her ankle and heel, and off her beautiful toes. I could have exploded if she had let me touch myself. She didn’t say a word as she recrossed her legs sticking her other foot in my face. I again pulled her stocking off with trembling hands.
When it was off, she laughed, “that tickles slave; now remove my panties,” and she stood up right in front of me. My face was at her waist as I grabbed the pretty white panties and pulled them down revealing her hairy mound. I lowered her panties to her feet, as she lifted one then the other foot for me to remove her last stitch of clothing.
She stood there naked before me; I knelt there naked before her. This was a fantasy come true with the slight kink that I was on my knees and she was standing. If I could change that, then any stories out of this experience would be well worth telling.
She quickly put an end to that wish by turning her back to me and pushing her butt in my face, “kiss and lick my butt slave, just like you did last night, just like you will for the rest of your slave life!” she laughed.
I moaned and pressed my lips to her warm cheeks. I lovingly kissed her butt again and again. I used my tongue to clean every inch of those firm, round cheeks and luscious crack. She bent over and I French kissed her hole. I slid my tongue in, wiggled and slurped, and pulled it out. Then in again and out again, She moaned and pulled away and sat on the edge of the bed.
“Come here slave boy, I’ve got something else for you to kiss,” and she spread her legs.
I crawled over to her and slowly put my face in her crotch. I didn’t like the smell at first, but believe me, it grows on you. I bent forward and gently kissed the mound of hair between her beautiful young legs. I felt her hands grab my hair and push me as she ordered, “get in there and lick; I want French kisses on this side too; make me wet.”
My nose and mouth were wedged in her crotch. The smell was overpowering and I licked her hairy hole. The more I licked the moister she became, and I was eating her to save myself from drowning.
I kissed and licked and used my tongue until she squealed like she had the previous night. She rubbed her groin in my face until I was covered in her cum. I was already to explode myself but she wouldn’t let me. She just pushed my face away and slapped me hard on the cheek.
“Naughty, naughty slave; what if your mother saw you licking my pussy; you’d be punished,” and she laughed and slapped my other cheek.
I was red and I was hot. I pleaded with her to let me cum too, “please may I cum, Mistress Patty, please.”
“Maybe later slave,” she said and got up, dressed, and left me kneeling naked on her bedroom floor. I was panting but dared not touch myself. They’d do a “Scotty” on me if they found out. Finally I recovered enough to get dressed and go downstairs.
My whole life had been turned upside down this weekend. I had been a relatively normal boy when I’d arrived at their house Friday evening; I was no longer normal. Patty and Janice had turned me into their foot kissing, butt loving, and now pussy licking slave. I no longer wanted to get away; I wanted to stay with them for the rest of my life.
Downstairs I learned that Patty had gone over to Maureen’s house with Candy and wouldn’t be back until supper time. I was very disappointed and thought about walking over to Maureen’s house myself. Before I could start on that journey, Janice changed my plans. She caught me on the back porch with her friends Brigitte and Becky.
“Slave boy,” she said as she grabbed my arms, “you’re going to be busy this afternoon; I’ve sold you to Brigitte and Becky until 4PM; they each gave me $5 which is probably a lot more than you’re worth; you’ll go with them and you will serve, please, and amuse them in any and all ways that they command; do you understand slave?”
I meekly bowed my head and answered, “Yes, Mistress Janice.”
She released my arm and turned to the girls, “he’s all yours, have fun.”

[aussiefootslave]

Becky grabbed my arm while Brigitte tied a rope around my wrist; she then grabbed my other arm and tied my wrists together in front of my body. Brigitte led me off the porch with the rope tied around my wrists. As I went down the stairs, Becky kicked me hard in the butt.
“Get a move on boy; it’s already 12:30 and we only own you till 4:00,” said Becky. All three girls laughed and Janice went back into the house. I followed Brigitte and Becky the block and a half to their house, at the end of a rope. I kept looking around, hoping no one would see us, but I’m sure people did. We walked right down the sidewalk and lots of cars passed by. Anyone looking would see two girls walking together, one of them holding the end of a rope. The other end of the rope was clearly tied to the wrists of the boy walking behind them.
When we were almost there, we ran into Mrs. Southerby. She was a pretty attractive middle-aged woman who kept to herself most of the time. As she passed, she stared at us and asked, “Are you girls having fun?” It seemed to me to be a strange thing to ask, but I suppose she didn’t know what to say.
Brigitte answered, “We will when we get our slave home.”
Mrs. Southerby looked hard at me and said, “You better obey these young ladies or you’ll have to answer to me; do you understand slave?”
I couldn’t tell if she was kidding or not. Maybe she thought this was some kind of kid’s game and she was just playing around with us. I stammered out a “yes Mistress,” and she smiled and walked on. I never did decide if she had been joking or if she really knew what was going on. Brigitte and Becky loved it whichever it was. They pulled hard on my rope and laughed while calling me, “slave.”
When we reached their house, Brigitte explained, “We aren’t allowed to have guests in the house when our parents are gone, so we’re going to play in the backyard. Becky why don’t you take him there while I get some ‘toys’ for us to use?” She gave Becky a wicked smile as she said this, handed her the rope, and dashed in the front door.
Becky led me around the side of the house and through the gate to the small yard. Fortunately, their back yard was fenced with a high wooden fence. We couldn’t see out unless we stood on tip toes. No one could see in unless they did the same or watched from the upstairs bedrooms of the east or west neighboring houses. I prayed that no one was home. I didn’t know what the two girls had in mind but I was pretty sure I didn’t want anyone to see us.
Becky led me to a metal eye hook that stuck out of the ground next to the back porch steps and told me to kneel. I did and she tied the end of the rope that she’d been holding to the eye hook and sat on the porch steps looking down at me.
“I’ve never had a boy slave before; are you really a slave or is this just some game you’re playing with your cousins?” she asked.
I didn’t know what to answer. I wasn’t absolutely sure myself whether this was real or not; I went back and forth between wishing it were over or had never happened at all and wishing it would go on forever. I said, “I don’t really know Mistress Becky; I guess it’s whatever you want it to be.”
She smiled and said, “good answer slave, now kiss my shoe,” and she shoved her dirty sneaker in my face.
I kissed the top of her canvas sneaker and her sister came out as Becky pulled her foot away from my lips.
Brigitte had more rope and some belts. She stood on the edge of the porch and ordered, “Now kiss my shoes slave.”
I immediately bowed before her and pressed my lips to each of her penny loafers. I guess they knew that I’d do what they said. As I knelt up again I could see the smiles of delight on their pretty faces.
Becky leaned over and untied my wrists but left the other end of the rope tied to the eye hook. Brigitte ordered, “Take off all of your clothes slave.”
I began stripping off my shoes and socks and shirt. I stood up to take my pants off and stopped short of removing my underwear. Maybe they’d let me keep my jockeys on.
Becky stood up and walked up to me. Her face was right in my face as she said, “we told you to take off your clothes boy.” She looked mean.
I reached down and pulled off my underwear and laid them on the ground with all my other clothes. Becky put both hands on my shoulders as I straightened back up and pushed down, “get down on your knees slave.”
I obeyed and dropped to my knees before her.
Brigitte walked down the porch steps and stood with Becky before me. “The first thing we’re gonna play is cowgirl,” she said, “you get to be a runaway steer and we get to chase you.”
“Yeah, start running,” said Becky but as I started to stand, she again put her hands firmly on my shoulders, pushed me back down, and said, “steers don’t walk on two legs stupid; they walk on all fours; now get crawling; we’ll give you a ten second head start…..one, two…”
These girls were strange; they weren’t even dressed like cowgirls. I immediately began crawling away from them as rapidly as I could, but as I looked around the yard I could see that there was no where to go. I just headed for the fence at the back of the yard. When I heard Becky count “ten” I looked around and saw them both walking toward me, each with a rope in her hand. I froze not knowing what to do or which way to go. The girls split up when they were about halfway to me, and Becky began making silly cowgirl sounds, “yippee ki yo ki yay,” “get along little doggie,” and stuff like that. Brigitte was laughing hysterically.
Their yard was not all nice grass; most of it was dry patches of dirt and gravel and it hurt my hands and knees when I crawled on it. When they were fairly close, I crawled as fast as I could in the general direction of Brigitte, figuring she was laughing so hard she might not be able to catch me.
As I made my break for freedom, both girls stopped walking and ran at me. I had no chance at all. Becky grabbed my hair and wrestled me to the ground. She pushed me over and sat on my chest. Brigitte tied my ankles together tightly and Becky stood and told me to roll over on my stomach. I did and she put her shoe on my head while Brigitte tied my hands behind my back. When done, she stood and put her shoe on my butt.
“That was pretty easy; maybe he’ll do better going back to the porch,” said Brigitte. Becky started toward the porch while Brigitte took a step up and stood, full weight, on my back. She drove my chest into the gravel. I could feel stones cutting me in a couple of different places. I didn’t say a word; I was scared they might really hurt me if I started complaining.
Becky came back with two belts and gave one to Brigitte. Brigitte cracked the belt on the ground right next to my head and I jumped.
“Now we’re going to drive the steer home, but we can’t untie him cause we don’t want him running away again. You’re going to have to crawl with your ankles and wrists tied all the way back,” said Becky.
“Yeah, and we’ll use our belts to keep you moving in the right direction, understand steer?” Brigitte asked.
I started to say, “Yes Mistress” when Becky hit me hard on the back with her belt. “Cows don’t talk, they moo; I want you mooing all the way back to that eye hook; understand?”
I just winced and said, “Moo.”
Brigitte stepped off my back and said, “Get along little doggie” and cracked my butt hard with her belt.
I began crawling. It’s pretty hard to move very fast, crawling on your belly with your ankles tied together and your wrists bound behind your back. The dirt and gravel scraped my chest, belly, and legs, and the girls took turns slapping me with their belts. They hit all over, and I never knew where to expect the next sting.
I’d inch forward, mooing, and slap, my right shoulder would sting from Becky’s belt. I’d scramble forward, trying to move away and toward the porch, and slap, my butt would sting from Brigitte’s belt. I’d moo and my legs would be stung. My arms ached from being so tightly tied behind my back and from the belts that the girls kept using on me.
They took turns until the last five or six when they both began whipping me at the same time. My “moos” became shrieks of agony as I lurched toward the eye hook and, at last, touched it with my head.
The girls stopped hitting me and Brigitte bent down and tied the rope that had been left on the eye hook around my neck. My chest, belly, and legs burned from the dirt and gravel I had crawled through and the backs of my legs, butt, shoulders, arms, and back stung from the bite of their belts. I hurt bad and tears streamed down my cheeks as I lay in the dirt at their feet.
...to be continued.....

[Steel Etto]

Fair play to you, AFS, for all the typing involved. You're right, this is a real good story, so thank you, all the more, for the effort. Take care.

S

[cyberwop]

Thank you. Loving the story. thanks for the effort.

[oddworld17801]

Awesome story, please keep going!

[Miss_clinton]

IT IS A NICE STORY LINE...NO DOUBT...BUT I THINK THAT YOU ARE MOVING AWAY FROM FOOT WORSHIP TO SOMETHING ELSE....IS THAT CALLED FOR??


MISTRESS CLINTON

[Lagaric]

Thank you for the story

more please! and if there are any other ones!