patheticus555
10-01-2007, 12:05 PM
Part 5 – The Japanese Family
Slave Pierre is unwell.
Let’s just say that he didn’t take his punishment at the fair hands of Madame Debroue like a man and, as a consequence, he is temporarily indisposed.
Then again, what did you expect? After all, slave Pierre is not a man – he’s a slave.
Fortunately, he is not an essential element of our story – he is just one of many slaves employed by the company ‘Rent-A-Slave’, so, whilst he is licking his wounds, we can follow the misfortunes of one of his fellow-footslaves – slave Stephen.
Slave Stephen is much younger than slave Pierre. He is in his late twenties, quite stockily built and much stronger and fitter. Slave Stephen, for example, would probably not have needed quite as much time off to recuperate from a well-deserved flogging.
Yet, unfortunately for him, slave Stephen is every bit as much at the mercy of those women he serves as his older, weaker colleague, and slave Stephen is very much aware of that. As a result, slave Stephen is always ultra-submissive and obedient towards his female customers.
Slave Stephen would actually make a very good family footslave. Which is just as well, because his next assignment was to be just that – albeit for a week only.
Forty-five year old Mr Asakawa had a problem. He had moved to Europe with his 39 year-old wife, Haruko, their 19 year old daughter, Kimi, and his younger sister, 30 year old miss Yumiko, from Japan nearly two weeks ago to take up his position as European Director of a Japanese bank. Everything was going well – the family were settling in to their new surroundings; their house was wonderful; his wife had obtained a position in the new office as his personal assistant; his daughter was settled at college where she was undertaking a course in media studies; and his sister was happy, as she had been back in Japan, to stay at home and do all the housework in return for her free board and lodging.
Well, nearly all the housework. You see, there was just one setback – the Asakawa family footslave was still being held in quarantine, and the ladies’ piles of dirty socks, stockings and tights were starting to build up! Miss Yumiko drew the line at hand-washing hosiery – including her own. Such things were beneath her, and the family therefore employed a male slave, slave Jun, to wash the female family members’ dirty socks and polish their feminine footwear. Miss Yumiko was more than happy to supervise slave Jun in these chores – but she point blank refused to stoop to such menial work herself. She saw herself very much as the family’s unofficial housekeeper – not the boot-boy!
And so from day one in their new home she had been pestering her brother to get a temporary rental slave whilst they awaited slave Jun to clear through quarantine. She accepted that a dirty slave had to go through a period of quarantine – it was only right and proper. But who was going to wash the dirty feminine socks in the meantime? After two weeks of nagging, she was joined by Mrs Asakawa and Kimi, both of whom were becoming increasingly frustrated at the ever diminishing supply of clean socks and tights they had to wear.
It didn’t occur to anyone in the household to simply throw the dirty feminine hosiery into the washing machine along with all the other clothes. Feminine hosiery had always been hand-washed by male slaves in the Asakawa household. It was just a family tradition!
And so, at last, after two long weeks and an indication from the authorities that slave Jun would have to spend at least another week in quarantine, Mr Asakawa had relented, and he, together with his wife and sister, were now standing in the showroom of ‘Rent-A-Slave’, eyeing up the goods.
To miss Yumiko there could be no doubt as to which one they should take – the handsome, strong looking slave in cage no 3 – slave Stephen to you and me. She had been convinced from the time she very first set eyes on him that she could get a lot of work out of him. His hang-dog expression made him look suitably submissive and obedient, yet his muscles undoubtedly indicated a propensity for hard work. Besides, he was incredibly good looking – semi naked apart from his slave shorts, slave collar, and chains as he knelt in the showroom cage.
You could say that, for Miss Yumiko, it was slave-at-first-sight!
For their part, Mr and Mrs Asakawa were reasonably happy to go along with whatever Yumiko wanted – after all, she would be the one at home all day directing the slave’s chores. But Mr Asakawa just wanted to make sure before he put his money down that the slave was experienced in handling ladies’ delicate hosiery, and wasn’t just some sort of muscle-bound, brutish work-slave, accustomed to heavy labour like breaking rocks. He certainly looked like he spent a lot of time breaking rocks!
Mr Asakawa turned to the young, female sales assistant, miss Rebecca (miss Samantha was on holiday):
‘Slave know how to wash women dirty socks? Wife and daughter have many socks and tights - need wash by hand.’
And what about my dirty socks, thought his sister, Yumiko? Don’t they count?
Miss Rebecca was confident in slave Stephen’s ability to humbly hand-wash female socks:
‘Oh yes, sir, I can assure you that this slave is an excellent sock-washer. And he knows how to polish female shoes and boots properly too. Like all our slaves he has been well-trained!’
Excellent, thought Yumiko. He can make a start on my dirty and scuffed red leather ankle boots when we get him home!
Mr and Mrs Asakawa held a brief conversation in Japanese, then consulted Yumiko, before Mr Asakawa finally announced his decision:
‘We take him for one week, but bring slave back if daughter not like.’
The two Japanese ladies beamed with delight, as an equally pleased miss Rebecca, moved over to unlock the cage:
‘I’m sure your daughter won’t be disappointed, sir, but if there are any problems at all please don’t hesitate to return the slave and we’ll give you a full refund.’
That was perfectly true – it was company policy to not only refund customers who were dissatisfied, but also to invite them to witness the slave being physically chastised for his ineptitude or disobedience – as evidenced so eloquently by slave Pierre who was at that moment still lying in the recovery cell.
As slave Stephen was led out of the cage on his hands and knees by the red-stilettoed showroom assistant, miss Rebecca, he caught his first close-up glance of one of his new Japanese mistresses’ feet and footwear. They were the white ballet-style flats and black socks of miss Yumiko, who was to be his taskmistress – not that slave Stephen had any understanding yet of the make-up of this particular family. All he knew – all he needed to know – was that miss Yumiko was a superior female whom he was now duty-bound to serve as a footslave, whatever her status within the Asakawa household.
Miss Yumiko was also, quite literally, keen to ‘get off on the right foot’ with her new slave, and so she immediately stretched out her right foot under the kneeling slave’s nose, pulled up the hem of her blue, denim jean by an inch or so to ensure he had a full view of her black sock, and gave him her first order:
‘Slave kiss Yumiko foot. Kiss Yumiko black sock!’
Slave Stephen would actually have preferred to kiss the 30 year old Japanese woman’s white ballet shoe. It looked so cute and delicious – shiny white, but with numerous little creases in the white leather and one or two scuff marks around the toe. But he had been very specifically ordered to kiss the young woman’s black sock, and she had kindly raised the hem of her jean to better enable him to do so; presumably she wanted to really feel his slave-lips on her foot. And so, the sock it was.
As he placed his mouth onto the part of the sock covering the top of her foot he felt little balls of black sock lint on his lips. The sock was quite thick and the stitching rather heavy. He guessed it was an ankle-length sock, but the top of the sock disappeared up the mistress’s jean-leg, so he couldn’t be sure. Anyway, he had to concentrate on the area of sock he was kissing, and so he focused in on a tiny piece of white fluff stuck to one of the thick, black stitches. He would, of course, remove that piece of white fluff from his mistress Yumiko’s black sock if she so wished, but it was so tiny she probably hadn’t even noticed it. Only in the eyes of a humble footslave do such matters loom so large.
Miss Yumiko was indeed, apparently, unaware or unconcerned about the white piece of fluff on her black sock, for, after he had kissed the sock, she promptly withdrew her right foot, replacing it with her similarly attired left foot, and, once again obligingly raising the hem of her jean-leg, repeated her order to the kneeling footslave:
‘Slave kiss Yumiko other sock. Yumiko want hear slave kiss sock. Slave obey Yumiko!’
Slave Stephen was already quite enamoured by miss Yumiko. She certainly knew how to speak to a slave – albeit in her broken English. He understood from what the Japanese master had been saying earlier that he was being rented out on some sort of approval – the man’s daughter had to ‘like’ him. Slave Stephen had already worked out that Miss Yumiko was probably too old to be the master’s daughter, but he was totally convinced that he could at least win miss Yumiko’s approval.
He humbly, and audibly, kissed miss Yumiko’s left, black sock , again conscious of the thick, raised stitching of the sock on his slave lips as he admired, and smelt, the pungent, soft white leather of the Japanese woman’s ballet pumps.
Mr Asakawa was becoming slightly concerned that his wife was beginning to feel a bit left out. After all, she was the ‘mistress’ of the house. He urged his beloved wife, in Japanese, to step forward and to order the slave to kiss her foot also.
The rather petite Mrs Asakawa, however, was the least confident family member when it came to speaking English. She was also, in stark contrast to her sister-in-law, Yumiko, a rather shy woman – even though she had no need to be; she was still very beautiful for her age, and had many male admirers, unlike her somewhat plainer sister in law. She differed considerably from her sister-in-law also in her dress sense, preferring to always be smartly, as opposed to casually, dressed. Mrs Asakawa would never be seen dead in a pair of jeans – and her beautifully shaped legs allowed her to still get away with wearing short, above-the-knee, skirts.
Which was what she was wearing today – a smart, business-like, beige suit consisting of a jacket, and short, almost knee-length, skirt; white, frilly blouse; tan-coloured, fine-denier stockings, and beige coloured stiletto-heeled shoes. Mr Asakawa was very proud of his beautiful wife, Haruko. He took her to as many functions as he possibly could – she looked every bit the glamorous wife of the director of a major international bank, and he was convinced she helped him to win business deals just by being by his side.
As his darling wife was clearly somewhat diffident about ordering the foreign slave to pay his respects to her feet in a foreign tongue, Mr Asakawa came to her rescue:
‘Slave kiss mistress Haruko feet. Slave beg mistress Haruko let slave serve her. Dirty slave obey!’
Slave Stephen immediately turned his slavish attentions to the now outstretched right foot of the other, more elegantly dressed, Japanese lady. He could tell from the tone of the Japanese master’s voice that he meant business – he wanted to see his rental-slave paying the utmost respect to this ‘mistress Haruko’. He guessed she must be the master’s wife.
He lowered his lips to touch the shiny, pointy toe of mistress Haruko’s expensive-looking, beige, leather high-heeled shoe and proffered a kiss:
‘Oh pray, mistress Haruko, if it pleases you, mistress Haruko, please permit this humble slave to serve you as your personal footslave. Please don’t beat me, mistress Haruko. This slave fears and respects his superior mistress.’
If mistress Haruko had trouble understanding ordinary English, she certainly could scarcely understand a word of humble ‘slave-speak’, but the slave’s body language said it all anyway. She looked down on him with a growing sense of power and disdain as his lips grovelled on her pretty beige shoe.
Mistress Yumiko, meanwhile, was jealous. She had understood every word the dirty footslave had said. Why hadn’t she thought of that? She wanted to hear him say that he feared and respected her – though, having just kissed her black socks, he clearly did!
Never mind, there would be plenty of time to make him verbally worship her in due course – well, for a week at least!
Meanwhile, slave Stephen was admiring the tiniest of creases in the stitching in the tan-coloured, nylon stocking around the ankle of mistress Haruko’s left foot, which he was now kissing with the same degree of respect that he had afforded her right foot.
Yes, he was going to enjoy serving these beautiful Japanese ladies. He sensed that he had ‘won them over’ – all he had to do now, it seemed, was to win over the master’s daughter who was not present in the showroom, and he would then be permitted to serve this dominant Japanese family for a week.
Nice work if you can get it!
Slave Stephen had to wait until later that afternoon to pay his respects to Mr Asakawa’s daughter, miss Kimi. The nineteen-year-old finished college at 4:00 PM, and slave Stephen was already in the laundry room hand-washing a pair of her dirty, white ankle socks, under the direction of miss Yumiko, when he was summoned to the living room in order to be introduced to miss Kimi and to seek to win her approval in front of the other family members.
It was just as well that slave Stephen was naturally very obedient and submissive, for Miss Kimi, it has to be said, was a somewhat spoilt and petulant young woman – and very hard to please. Mr Asakawa may have been the powerful director of the European branch of a multinational bank, but he was like putty in the hands of his beloved daughter. And Mrs Asakawa was no better – indulging her daughter’s every whim as she was her only child. Only miss Yumiko would ever dare to criticise miss Kimi, and, for that very reason, miss Kimi and Miss Yumiko didn’t really get on. The only thing that united them was their mutual liking for tormenting and humiliating slaves.
For all her ‘faults’, however, miss Kimi was a beautiful girl, who had undoubtedly inherited her good looks, if not her character, from her mother. Miss Kimi was a real Japanese ‘stunner’; petite and dark haired like all Japanese women, but with a cheeky and self-confident grin that attracted male admirers and even suitors wherever she went. Already, having been at her new college for only two weeks, she had a new boyfriend – Abdulla, a student from North Africa.
All the more reason why she was glad her father had finally relented and gotten a temporary rental slave whilst that lazy slave, slave Jun, languished in quarantine. She had been invited to a party by Abdulla that weekend and needed her sheer, black party-nylons to be mouth-washed by a slave. But would this one be up to the job?
The demanding Miss Kimi was actually quite impressed by her first sight of slave Stephen as he knelt in front of her on the carpet of the living room floor.
He looked quite hunky – for a slave. Not, of course, as manly as her exotic Arab boyfriend, Abdulla, but passably sexy nonetheless.
Not that miss Kimi would ever dream of having sex with a mere slave. Ugh! The thought was just too disgusting and bizarre! Similarly, slave Stephen would never have dreamt of having sexual intercourse with a mistress. The idea of it was just too ridiculous. What woman would ever want to make love to a cretinous slave? But that didn’t stop him from appreciating the beauty of the women he served – the feminine softness of their footskin; the shapeliness of their legs and ankles; their female power as they towered above him in their spiked heels.
And that was the overwhelming impression he now got as he knelt, head humbly bowed as befits a slave, in front of miss Kimi. She was wearing a crisp, white T Shirt, bright red mini-skirt, black knee-length socks with two red stripes at the top, and black, spiked-heel, knee-length, zip-up boots. Petite though this young Japanese woman was, she truly seemed to tower above slave Stephen as he knelt humbly with even his head lower than the tops of her knee-length boots.
He observed too that she was, somewhat incongruously given that she was indoors in her own living room, carrying a black leather handbag which was clearly designed to match her black, leather boots. It all seemed to add, however, to her air of femininity, as the leather handbag dangled above his head. It seemed to be saying that this was a ‘girly girl’ - petite, delicate and very feminine, yet at the same time completely composed and in charge.
Out of the corner of his eye he noticed that the young mistress’s boots were quite dirty. But then, they would be, wouldn’t they? After all, miss Kimi’s regular footslave was currently detained. He couldn’t help noticing also that the tops of her black and red knee-length socks, especially the left sock, needed straightening.
Oh please order me to straighten your socks, young mistress, he thought to himself. Let me show you how good a slave I can be!
He anxiously and expectantly awaited his orders as the young woman walked around him like a tigress studying her prey. He so wanted her to order him to kiss her boots – to show her just how submissive and obedient he could be.
But miss Kimi was not one to be hurried. This was an important decision on her part. It was important to her that she should enjoy tormenting and humbling this new slave for the next week or so, and she was very much enjoying the fact that the slave’s fate was now completely in her hands.
Even though she had already, pretty much, made up her mind that she would be keeping this good-looking slave, she decided that before she formally allowed him to kiss her boots he would have to answer some questions for her:
‘Slave like serve japanese mistress? Like smell Japanese girl socks; lick Japanese girl boots?’
If ever a male footslave had been asked a rhetorical question, this had to be it!
‘Oh yes, mistress, if it pleases you mistress, this slave would indeed be most honoured to serve as the young japanese mistress’s footslave, and to smell her socks and lick her boots, if it so pleases you mistress.’
Miss Kimi laughed and miss Yumiko, who was standing immediately behind slave Stephen, also grinned. The latter was glad slave Stephen liked the smell of Japanese women’s socks – for he would be smelling a lot of them over the coming days. It also reminded her that she needed her red ankle boots to be licked clean.
Meanwhile miss Kimi, to her watching father’s immense satisfaction and pride, continued her interrogation of her new potential slave-employee:
‘Ha! Ha! Miss Kimi socks very dirty; full of sweat! Slave like taste Japanese girl’s sock-sweat?’
Slave Stephen could not quite bring himself to believe just how easy these questions were:
‘Oh yes, mistress, if it pleases you sweet, feminine miss Kimi, this dirty slave is indeed partial to drinking the sweat from his superior mistresses’ socks, if it so pleases you most beautiful mistress Kimi.’
Again, miss Yumiko felt a twinge of jealousy. The slave had not yet flattered her for her great beauty. And she thought she was very beautiful, although, if truth be told, nobody else particularly thought that.
‘Ha! Ha! And miss Kimi boots and shoes dirty; shoes covered in muck; filth. Slave know how to swallow Japanese girl’s boot muck?’
Yes mistress! Yes I do! Please just give me he chance to prove it to you now, thought slave Stephen to himself.
But, of course, he had to verbalise those thoughts in much more respectful language:
‘Oh pray, sweet and beautiful mistress Kimi, my master’s sweet and beautiful daughter, please believe that this slave could wish for nothing more than to swallow the divine muck from the soles of your superior, feminine Japanese boots, mistress Kimi, if it so pleases you sweet, feminine mistress.’
You see – I told you he was submissive, even more submissive than slave Pierre! Indeed, slave Pierre could probably learn a thing or two from his younger slave-colleague’s attitude. Perhaps, thanks to the sting of Madam Debroue’s whip, he already had!
Miss Kimi certainly seemed satisfied by the humble slave’s attitude. He would do.
She told her father so in Japanese, prior to standing directly in front of the kneeling slave and, at long last, extending her right booted-foot for slave Stephen to kiss.
He was quite overwhelmed with the smell of black leather as he slavishly placed his lips on the somewhat dirty and dusty toe of the outstretched knee-length boot, but then, that’s hardly surprising given the amount of leather now surrounding him – two, knee-length, black leather boots and a matching, black leather handbag.
The all-powerful young mistress withdrew her right boot, replacing it with her left – the outstretched positioning of her left leg causing the top of her left knee-sock to crease even further, much to the consternation of the kneeling footslave, who now wanted even more to get his grubby, slave hands on those precious female socks and straighten them for his charming young mistress.
But miss Kimi didn’t seem that concerned about her socks inside her boots. It was the state of her outer footwear that currently most concerned her:
‘Slave follow miss Kimi; crawl on hands and knees. Miss Kimi make slave clean miss Kimi boots in bedroom.’
Her bedroom! This delightful young woman was already prepared to allow him into her bed-chamber. Slave Stephen felt proud at how quickly he appeared to have gained the young woman’s trust and confidence – not that any woman ever had anything to fear from a humble slave – but to be admitted into a young woman’s bedroom when you weren’t even her full-time, personal slave, and just minutes after being introduced to her, that was a real honour.
Miss Yumiko was somewhat put out by the fact that miss Kimi appeared to be appropriating the new footslave all for herself. She may be her niece and the apple of her brother’s eye, but she had boots that needed cleaning too!
She therefore remonstrated with Kimi in Japanese, although she tried to dress it up as concern that the slave hadn’t yet finished mouth and hand washing the pair of miss Kimi’s dirty, white ankle socks in the laundry room.
Miss Kimi told her aunt she didn’t care. She wanted the slave to clean her boots first. The white ankle socks in the laundry room would just have to wait!
Miss Yumiko, biting her tongue, deferred – but decided there and then she would punish the slave later for his impudence in leaving the pair of white ankle socks she had ordered him to wash only half finished.
Yumiko, her brother, and her sister in law all settled down to watch television in the living room whilst miss Kimi led slave Stephen on his hands and knees behind her booted heels up the stairs to her opulent bedroom.
The first impression slave Stephen got as he entered the bedroom was just how feminine and ‘girly’ it was. Pink carpet, for heaven’s sake! And posters of what appeared to be Japanese pop stars or heart-throbs plastering the walls.
But the thing which caught his eye the most, because it seemed the most incongruous thing he had ever seen in a young woman’s bedroom, was the black, wooden shoeshine-stand in the far corner of the room.
It was a real, life-size shoeshine-stand – the type in which the customer sits on a raised chair and rests their feet on two metal footrests in front of the crouching, or perhaps kneeling, shoeshine boy. Why on earth did miss Kimi have a shoeshine stand in her bedroom?
It was, of course, the stupidest, most naïve question a footslave could possibly ever ask himself, and within seconds the dumb-ass slave had his answer, as miss Kimi promptly jumped up onto the stand and settled herself into the comfortable chair, placing her booted feet onto the metal footrests directly in front of the kneeling footslave’s stupid face.
Still clutching her girly handbag in her left hand, miss Kimi reached down with her right index finger to point at her right boot and barked her orders to her personal bootblack:
‘Slave clean miss Kimi boots; lick!’
If the petite young woman had seemed to tower over him when she had been standing, she now assumed veritable goddess stature as she sat in her raised throne with her humble boot-boy kneeling on the plush, pink carpet at her booted feet.
He obediently shuffled forward until his face was so close to the right boot that he could see the tiniest creases in the black leather around the toe area of the boot, and made to lick the top of the toe, only to be rewarded with a sharp blow across his left cheek with the young mistress’s black, leather handbag:
‘Slave start at top of boot! Work down! Dirty slave obey!’, and the sweet, feminine young mistress then promptly, and very audibly, gathered up some saliva in her pretty, japanese mouth and expelled it onto his now stinging left cheek.
Slave Stephen was somewhat taken aback. Mistress Kimi was clearly a young woman of stark contradictions - delicate and petite, yet extremely demanding; feminine and girly, yet totally masterful - and clearly not afraid to hurt and degrade male slaves.
He immediately obeyed his young mistress’s wishes and raised his head to the top of her right, knee-length boot:
‘Slave not touch miss Kimi sock with face. Slave touch only boot! Dirty slave obey!’
Just a few minutes before, down in the living room, Slave Stephen had actually been contemplating straightening miss Kimi’s black and red knee-socks on his own initiative – not as an act of defiance but, on the contrary, as a sign of his desire to devotedly serve his master’s daughter as an attentive foot and sock slave. He was now so glad that he hadn’t been so presumptuous as to act on his impulse. How would this young virago have reacted if he had done? He now suspected her reaction would not have been good! This was a young woman who knew exactly what she wanted, and who demanded nothing less than unstinting obedience and submission in a slave.
And luckily for him, those where the very qualities that slave Stephen had in abundance – unstinting obedience and submissiveness.
As his young mistress’s saliva ran down the side of his left cheek, he lathered the top of her zip-up, high-heeled, black leather boot with his own slave-saliva, ensuring that any dust and dirt was transferred onto his slave tongue, and being extra careful not to touch the tops of the superior, young woman’s knee-length, black and red socks with his slave face.
Yes, slave Stephen felt truly privileged to be licking the boots of this stunning and demanding young Japanese woman.
Wouldn’t you?
To be continued
All my previous stories can be read at http://footslavestories.blogspot.com
Slave Pierre is unwell.
Let’s just say that he didn’t take his punishment at the fair hands of Madame Debroue like a man and, as a consequence, he is temporarily indisposed.
Then again, what did you expect? After all, slave Pierre is not a man – he’s a slave.
Fortunately, he is not an essential element of our story – he is just one of many slaves employed by the company ‘Rent-A-Slave’, so, whilst he is licking his wounds, we can follow the misfortunes of one of his fellow-footslaves – slave Stephen.
Slave Stephen is much younger than slave Pierre. He is in his late twenties, quite stockily built and much stronger and fitter. Slave Stephen, for example, would probably not have needed quite as much time off to recuperate from a well-deserved flogging.
Yet, unfortunately for him, slave Stephen is every bit as much at the mercy of those women he serves as his older, weaker colleague, and slave Stephen is very much aware of that. As a result, slave Stephen is always ultra-submissive and obedient towards his female customers.
Slave Stephen would actually make a very good family footslave. Which is just as well, because his next assignment was to be just that – albeit for a week only.
Forty-five year old Mr Asakawa had a problem. He had moved to Europe with his 39 year-old wife, Haruko, their 19 year old daughter, Kimi, and his younger sister, 30 year old miss Yumiko, from Japan nearly two weeks ago to take up his position as European Director of a Japanese bank. Everything was going well – the family were settling in to their new surroundings; their house was wonderful; his wife had obtained a position in the new office as his personal assistant; his daughter was settled at college where she was undertaking a course in media studies; and his sister was happy, as she had been back in Japan, to stay at home and do all the housework in return for her free board and lodging.
Well, nearly all the housework. You see, there was just one setback – the Asakawa family footslave was still being held in quarantine, and the ladies’ piles of dirty socks, stockings and tights were starting to build up! Miss Yumiko drew the line at hand-washing hosiery – including her own. Such things were beneath her, and the family therefore employed a male slave, slave Jun, to wash the female family members’ dirty socks and polish their feminine footwear. Miss Yumiko was more than happy to supervise slave Jun in these chores – but she point blank refused to stoop to such menial work herself. She saw herself very much as the family’s unofficial housekeeper – not the boot-boy!
And so from day one in their new home she had been pestering her brother to get a temporary rental slave whilst they awaited slave Jun to clear through quarantine. She accepted that a dirty slave had to go through a period of quarantine – it was only right and proper. But who was going to wash the dirty feminine socks in the meantime? After two weeks of nagging, she was joined by Mrs Asakawa and Kimi, both of whom were becoming increasingly frustrated at the ever diminishing supply of clean socks and tights they had to wear.
It didn’t occur to anyone in the household to simply throw the dirty feminine hosiery into the washing machine along with all the other clothes. Feminine hosiery had always been hand-washed by male slaves in the Asakawa household. It was just a family tradition!
And so, at last, after two long weeks and an indication from the authorities that slave Jun would have to spend at least another week in quarantine, Mr Asakawa had relented, and he, together with his wife and sister, were now standing in the showroom of ‘Rent-A-Slave’, eyeing up the goods.
To miss Yumiko there could be no doubt as to which one they should take – the handsome, strong looking slave in cage no 3 – slave Stephen to you and me. She had been convinced from the time she very first set eyes on him that she could get a lot of work out of him. His hang-dog expression made him look suitably submissive and obedient, yet his muscles undoubtedly indicated a propensity for hard work. Besides, he was incredibly good looking – semi naked apart from his slave shorts, slave collar, and chains as he knelt in the showroom cage.
You could say that, for Miss Yumiko, it was slave-at-first-sight!
For their part, Mr and Mrs Asakawa were reasonably happy to go along with whatever Yumiko wanted – after all, she would be the one at home all day directing the slave’s chores. But Mr Asakawa just wanted to make sure before he put his money down that the slave was experienced in handling ladies’ delicate hosiery, and wasn’t just some sort of muscle-bound, brutish work-slave, accustomed to heavy labour like breaking rocks. He certainly looked like he spent a lot of time breaking rocks!
Mr Asakawa turned to the young, female sales assistant, miss Rebecca (miss Samantha was on holiday):
‘Slave know how to wash women dirty socks? Wife and daughter have many socks and tights - need wash by hand.’
And what about my dirty socks, thought his sister, Yumiko? Don’t they count?
Miss Rebecca was confident in slave Stephen’s ability to humbly hand-wash female socks:
‘Oh yes, sir, I can assure you that this slave is an excellent sock-washer. And he knows how to polish female shoes and boots properly too. Like all our slaves he has been well-trained!’
Excellent, thought Yumiko. He can make a start on my dirty and scuffed red leather ankle boots when we get him home!
Mr and Mrs Asakawa held a brief conversation in Japanese, then consulted Yumiko, before Mr Asakawa finally announced his decision:
‘We take him for one week, but bring slave back if daughter not like.’
The two Japanese ladies beamed with delight, as an equally pleased miss Rebecca, moved over to unlock the cage:
‘I’m sure your daughter won’t be disappointed, sir, but if there are any problems at all please don’t hesitate to return the slave and we’ll give you a full refund.’
That was perfectly true – it was company policy to not only refund customers who were dissatisfied, but also to invite them to witness the slave being physically chastised for his ineptitude or disobedience – as evidenced so eloquently by slave Pierre who was at that moment still lying in the recovery cell.
As slave Stephen was led out of the cage on his hands and knees by the red-stilettoed showroom assistant, miss Rebecca, he caught his first close-up glance of one of his new Japanese mistresses’ feet and footwear. They were the white ballet-style flats and black socks of miss Yumiko, who was to be his taskmistress – not that slave Stephen had any understanding yet of the make-up of this particular family. All he knew – all he needed to know – was that miss Yumiko was a superior female whom he was now duty-bound to serve as a footslave, whatever her status within the Asakawa household.
Miss Yumiko was also, quite literally, keen to ‘get off on the right foot’ with her new slave, and so she immediately stretched out her right foot under the kneeling slave’s nose, pulled up the hem of her blue, denim jean by an inch or so to ensure he had a full view of her black sock, and gave him her first order:
‘Slave kiss Yumiko foot. Kiss Yumiko black sock!’
Slave Stephen would actually have preferred to kiss the 30 year old Japanese woman’s white ballet shoe. It looked so cute and delicious – shiny white, but with numerous little creases in the white leather and one or two scuff marks around the toe. But he had been very specifically ordered to kiss the young woman’s black sock, and she had kindly raised the hem of her jean to better enable him to do so; presumably she wanted to really feel his slave-lips on her foot. And so, the sock it was.
As he placed his mouth onto the part of the sock covering the top of her foot he felt little balls of black sock lint on his lips. The sock was quite thick and the stitching rather heavy. He guessed it was an ankle-length sock, but the top of the sock disappeared up the mistress’s jean-leg, so he couldn’t be sure. Anyway, he had to concentrate on the area of sock he was kissing, and so he focused in on a tiny piece of white fluff stuck to one of the thick, black stitches. He would, of course, remove that piece of white fluff from his mistress Yumiko’s black sock if she so wished, but it was so tiny she probably hadn’t even noticed it. Only in the eyes of a humble footslave do such matters loom so large.
Miss Yumiko was indeed, apparently, unaware or unconcerned about the white piece of fluff on her black sock, for, after he had kissed the sock, she promptly withdrew her right foot, replacing it with her similarly attired left foot, and, once again obligingly raising the hem of her jean-leg, repeated her order to the kneeling footslave:
‘Slave kiss Yumiko other sock. Yumiko want hear slave kiss sock. Slave obey Yumiko!’
Slave Stephen was already quite enamoured by miss Yumiko. She certainly knew how to speak to a slave – albeit in her broken English. He understood from what the Japanese master had been saying earlier that he was being rented out on some sort of approval – the man’s daughter had to ‘like’ him. Slave Stephen had already worked out that Miss Yumiko was probably too old to be the master’s daughter, but he was totally convinced that he could at least win miss Yumiko’s approval.
He humbly, and audibly, kissed miss Yumiko’s left, black sock , again conscious of the thick, raised stitching of the sock on his slave lips as he admired, and smelt, the pungent, soft white leather of the Japanese woman’s ballet pumps.
Mr Asakawa was becoming slightly concerned that his wife was beginning to feel a bit left out. After all, she was the ‘mistress’ of the house. He urged his beloved wife, in Japanese, to step forward and to order the slave to kiss her foot also.
The rather petite Mrs Asakawa, however, was the least confident family member when it came to speaking English. She was also, in stark contrast to her sister-in-law, Yumiko, a rather shy woman – even though she had no need to be; she was still very beautiful for her age, and had many male admirers, unlike her somewhat plainer sister in law. She differed considerably from her sister-in-law also in her dress sense, preferring to always be smartly, as opposed to casually, dressed. Mrs Asakawa would never be seen dead in a pair of jeans – and her beautifully shaped legs allowed her to still get away with wearing short, above-the-knee, skirts.
Which was what she was wearing today – a smart, business-like, beige suit consisting of a jacket, and short, almost knee-length, skirt; white, frilly blouse; tan-coloured, fine-denier stockings, and beige coloured stiletto-heeled shoes. Mr Asakawa was very proud of his beautiful wife, Haruko. He took her to as many functions as he possibly could – she looked every bit the glamorous wife of the director of a major international bank, and he was convinced she helped him to win business deals just by being by his side.
As his darling wife was clearly somewhat diffident about ordering the foreign slave to pay his respects to her feet in a foreign tongue, Mr Asakawa came to her rescue:
‘Slave kiss mistress Haruko feet. Slave beg mistress Haruko let slave serve her. Dirty slave obey!’
Slave Stephen immediately turned his slavish attentions to the now outstretched right foot of the other, more elegantly dressed, Japanese lady. He could tell from the tone of the Japanese master’s voice that he meant business – he wanted to see his rental-slave paying the utmost respect to this ‘mistress Haruko’. He guessed she must be the master’s wife.
He lowered his lips to touch the shiny, pointy toe of mistress Haruko’s expensive-looking, beige, leather high-heeled shoe and proffered a kiss:
‘Oh pray, mistress Haruko, if it pleases you, mistress Haruko, please permit this humble slave to serve you as your personal footslave. Please don’t beat me, mistress Haruko. This slave fears and respects his superior mistress.’
If mistress Haruko had trouble understanding ordinary English, she certainly could scarcely understand a word of humble ‘slave-speak’, but the slave’s body language said it all anyway. She looked down on him with a growing sense of power and disdain as his lips grovelled on her pretty beige shoe.
Mistress Yumiko, meanwhile, was jealous. She had understood every word the dirty footslave had said. Why hadn’t she thought of that? She wanted to hear him say that he feared and respected her – though, having just kissed her black socks, he clearly did!
Never mind, there would be plenty of time to make him verbally worship her in due course – well, for a week at least!
Meanwhile, slave Stephen was admiring the tiniest of creases in the stitching in the tan-coloured, nylon stocking around the ankle of mistress Haruko’s left foot, which he was now kissing with the same degree of respect that he had afforded her right foot.
Yes, he was going to enjoy serving these beautiful Japanese ladies. He sensed that he had ‘won them over’ – all he had to do now, it seemed, was to win over the master’s daughter who was not present in the showroom, and he would then be permitted to serve this dominant Japanese family for a week.
Nice work if you can get it!
Slave Stephen had to wait until later that afternoon to pay his respects to Mr Asakawa’s daughter, miss Kimi. The nineteen-year-old finished college at 4:00 PM, and slave Stephen was already in the laundry room hand-washing a pair of her dirty, white ankle socks, under the direction of miss Yumiko, when he was summoned to the living room in order to be introduced to miss Kimi and to seek to win her approval in front of the other family members.
It was just as well that slave Stephen was naturally very obedient and submissive, for Miss Kimi, it has to be said, was a somewhat spoilt and petulant young woman – and very hard to please. Mr Asakawa may have been the powerful director of the European branch of a multinational bank, but he was like putty in the hands of his beloved daughter. And Mrs Asakawa was no better – indulging her daughter’s every whim as she was her only child. Only miss Yumiko would ever dare to criticise miss Kimi, and, for that very reason, miss Kimi and Miss Yumiko didn’t really get on. The only thing that united them was their mutual liking for tormenting and humiliating slaves.
For all her ‘faults’, however, miss Kimi was a beautiful girl, who had undoubtedly inherited her good looks, if not her character, from her mother. Miss Kimi was a real Japanese ‘stunner’; petite and dark haired like all Japanese women, but with a cheeky and self-confident grin that attracted male admirers and even suitors wherever she went. Already, having been at her new college for only two weeks, she had a new boyfriend – Abdulla, a student from North Africa.
All the more reason why she was glad her father had finally relented and gotten a temporary rental slave whilst that lazy slave, slave Jun, languished in quarantine. She had been invited to a party by Abdulla that weekend and needed her sheer, black party-nylons to be mouth-washed by a slave. But would this one be up to the job?
The demanding Miss Kimi was actually quite impressed by her first sight of slave Stephen as he knelt in front of her on the carpet of the living room floor.
He looked quite hunky – for a slave. Not, of course, as manly as her exotic Arab boyfriend, Abdulla, but passably sexy nonetheless.
Not that miss Kimi would ever dream of having sex with a mere slave. Ugh! The thought was just too disgusting and bizarre! Similarly, slave Stephen would never have dreamt of having sexual intercourse with a mistress. The idea of it was just too ridiculous. What woman would ever want to make love to a cretinous slave? But that didn’t stop him from appreciating the beauty of the women he served – the feminine softness of their footskin; the shapeliness of their legs and ankles; their female power as they towered above him in their spiked heels.
And that was the overwhelming impression he now got as he knelt, head humbly bowed as befits a slave, in front of miss Kimi. She was wearing a crisp, white T Shirt, bright red mini-skirt, black knee-length socks with two red stripes at the top, and black, spiked-heel, knee-length, zip-up boots. Petite though this young Japanese woman was, she truly seemed to tower above slave Stephen as he knelt humbly with even his head lower than the tops of her knee-length boots.
He observed too that she was, somewhat incongruously given that she was indoors in her own living room, carrying a black leather handbag which was clearly designed to match her black, leather boots. It all seemed to add, however, to her air of femininity, as the leather handbag dangled above his head. It seemed to be saying that this was a ‘girly girl’ - petite, delicate and very feminine, yet at the same time completely composed and in charge.
Out of the corner of his eye he noticed that the young mistress’s boots were quite dirty. But then, they would be, wouldn’t they? After all, miss Kimi’s regular footslave was currently detained. He couldn’t help noticing also that the tops of her black and red knee-length socks, especially the left sock, needed straightening.
Oh please order me to straighten your socks, young mistress, he thought to himself. Let me show you how good a slave I can be!
He anxiously and expectantly awaited his orders as the young woman walked around him like a tigress studying her prey. He so wanted her to order him to kiss her boots – to show her just how submissive and obedient he could be.
But miss Kimi was not one to be hurried. This was an important decision on her part. It was important to her that she should enjoy tormenting and humbling this new slave for the next week or so, and she was very much enjoying the fact that the slave’s fate was now completely in her hands.
Even though she had already, pretty much, made up her mind that she would be keeping this good-looking slave, she decided that before she formally allowed him to kiss her boots he would have to answer some questions for her:
‘Slave like serve japanese mistress? Like smell Japanese girl socks; lick Japanese girl boots?’
If ever a male footslave had been asked a rhetorical question, this had to be it!
‘Oh yes, mistress, if it pleases you mistress, this slave would indeed be most honoured to serve as the young japanese mistress’s footslave, and to smell her socks and lick her boots, if it so pleases you mistress.’
Miss Kimi laughed and miss Yumiko, who was standing immediately behind slave Stephen, also grinned. The latter was glad slave Stephen liked the smell of Japanese women’s socks – for he would be smelling a lot of them over the coming days. It also reminded her that she needed her red ankle boots to be licked clean.
Meanwhile miss Kimi, to her watching father’s immense satisfaction and pride, continued her interrogation of her new potential slave-employee:
‘Ha! Ha! Miss Kimi socks very dirty; full of sweat! Slave like taste Japanese girl’s sock-sweat?’
Slave Stephen could not quite bring himself to believe just how easy these questions were:
‘Oh yes, mistress, if it pleases you sweet, feminine miss Kimi, this dirty slave is indeed partial to drinking the sweat from his superior mistresses’ socks, if it so pleases you most beautiful mistress Kimi.’
Again, miss Yumiko felt a twinge of jealousy. The slave had not yet flattered her for her great beauty. And she thought she was very beautiful, although, if truth be told, nobody else particularly thought that.
‘Ha! Ha! And miss Kimi boots and shoes dirty; shoes covered in muck; filth. Slave know how to swallow Japanese girl’s boot muck?’
Yes mistress! Yes I do! Please just give me he chance to prove it to you now, thought slave Stephen to himself.
But, of course, he had to verbalise those thoughts in much more respectful language:
‘Oh pray, sweet and beautiful mistress Kimi, my master’s sweet and beautiful daughter, please believe that this slave could wish for nothing more than to swallow the divine muck from the soles of your superior, feminine Japanese boots, mistress Kimi, if it so pleases you sweet, feminine mistress.’
You see – I told you he was submissive, even more submissive than slave Pierre! Indeed, slave Pierre could probably learn a thing or two from his younger slave-colleague’s attitude. Perhaps, thanks to the sting of Madam Debroue’s whip, he already had!
Miss Kimi certainly seemed satisfied by the humble slave’s attitude. He would do.
She told her father so in Japanese, prior to standing directly in front of the kneeling slave and, at long last, extending her right booted-foot for slave Stephen to kiss.
He was quite overwhelmed with the smell of black leather as he slavishly placed his lips on the somewhat dirty and dusty toe of the outstretched knee-length boot, but then, that’s hardly surprising given the amount of leather now surrounding him – two, knee-length, black leather boots and a matching, black leather handbag.
The all-powerful young mistress withdrew her right boot, replacing it with her left – the outstretched positioning of her left leg causing the top of her left knee-sock to crease even further, much to the consternation of the kneeling footslave, who now wanted even more to get his grubby, slave hands on those precious female socks and straighten them for his charming young mistress.
But miss Kimi didn’t seem that concerned about her socks inside her boots. It was the state of her outer footwear that currently most concerned her:
‘Slave follow miss Kimi; crawl on hands and knees. Miss Kimi make slave clean miss Kimi boots in bedroom.’
Her bedroom! This delightful young woman was already prepared to allow him into her bed-chamber. Slave Stephen felt proud at how quickly he appeared to have gained the young woman’s trust and confidence – not that any woman ever had anything to fear from a humble slave – but to be admitted into a young woman’s bedroom when you weren’t even her full-time, personal slave, and just minutes after being introduced to her, that was a real honour.
Miss Yumiko was somewhat put out by the fact that miss Kimi appeared to be appropriating the new footslave all for herself. She may be her niece and the apple of her brother’s eye, but she had boots that needed cleaning too!
She therefore remonstrated with Kimi in Japanese, although she tried to dress it up as concern that the slave hadn’t yet finished mouth and hand washing the pair of miss Kimi’s dirty, white ankle socks in the laundry room.
Miss Kimi told her aunt she didn’t care. She wanted the slave to clean her boots first. The white ankle socks in the laundry room would just have to wait!
Miss Yumiko, biting her tongue, deferred – but decided there and then she would punish the slave later for his impudence in leaving the pair of white ankle socks she had ordered him to wash only half finished.
Yumiko, her brother, and her sister in law all settled down to watch television in the living room whilst miss Kimi led slave Stephen on his hands and knees behind her booted heels up the stairs to her opulent bedroom.
The first impression slave Stephen got as he entered the bedroom was just how feminine and ‘girly’ it was. Pink carpet, for heaven’s sake! And posters of what appeared to be Japanese pop stars or heart-throbs plastering the walls.
But the thing which caught his eye the most, because it seemed the most incongruous thing he had ever seen in a young woman’s bedroom, was the black, wooden shoeshine-stand in the far corner of the room.
It was a real, life-size shoeshine-stand – the type in which the customer sits on a raised chair and rests their feet on two metal footrests in front of the crouching, or perhaps kneeling, shoeshine boy. Why on earth did miss Kimi have a shoeshine stand in her bedroom?
It was, of course, the stupidest, most naïve question a footslave could possibly ever ask himself, and within seconds the dumb-ass slave had his answer, as miss Kimi promptly jumped up onto the stand and settled herself into the comfortable chair, placing her booted feet onto the metal footrests directly in front of the kneeling footslave’s stupid face.
Still clutching her girly handbag in her left hand, miss Kimi reached down with her right index finger to point at her right boot and barked her orders to her personal bootblack:
‘Slave clean miss Kimi boots; lick!’
If the petite young woman had seemed to tower over him when she had been standing, she now assumed veritable goddess stature as she sat in her raised throne with her humble boot-boy kneeling on the plush, pink carpet at her booted feet.
He obediently shuffled forward until his face was so close to the right boot that he could see the tiniest creases in the black leather around the toe area of the boot, and made to lick the top of the toe, only to be rewarded with a sharp blow across his left cheek with the young mistress’s black, leather handbag:
‘Slave start at top of boot! Work down! Dirty slave obey!’, and the sweet, feminine young mistress then promptly, and very audibly, gathered up some saliva in her pretty, japanese mouth and expelled it onto his now stinging left cheek.
Slave Stephen was somewhat taken aback. Mistress Kimi was clearly a young woman of stark contradictions - delicate and petite, yet extremely demanding; feminine and girly, yet totally masterful - and clearly not afraid to hurt and degrade male slaves.
He immediately obeyed his young mistress’s wishes and raised his head to the top of her right, knee-length boot:
‘Slave not touch miss Kimi sock with face. Slave touch only boot! Dirty slave obey!’
Just a few minutes before, down in the living room, Slave Stephen had actually been contemplating straightening miss Kimi’s black and red knee-socks on his own initiative – not as an act of defiance but, on the contrary, as a sign of his desire to devotedly serve his master’s daughter as an attentive foot and sock slave. He was now so glad that he hadn’t been so presumptuous as to act on his impulse. How would this young virago have reacted if he had done? He now suspected her reaction would not have been good! This was a young woman who knew exactly what she wanted, and who demanded nothing less than unstinting obedience and submission in a slave.
And luckily for him, those where the very qualities that slave Stephen had in abundance – unstinting obedience and submissiveness.
As his young mistress’s saliva ran down the side of his left cheek, he lathered the top of her zip-up, high-heeled, black leather boot with his own slave-saliva, ensuring that any dust and dirt was transferred onto his slave tongue, and being extra careful not to touch the tops of the superior, young woman’s knee-length, black and red socks with his slave face.
Yes, slave Stephen felt truly privileged to be licking the boots of this stunning and demanding young Japanese woman.
Wouldn’t you?
To be continued
All my previous stories can be read at http://footslavestories.blogspot.com