patheticus555
10-19-2007, 2:34 AM
Part 8 – The Dinner Party
The guests arrived a fashionably 20 minutes late.
Slave Stephen was now well into his role as a roman household slave as mistress Yumiko had him kneeling in the hallway, just inside the front door, head bowed and attired humbly in his plain, brown, roman slave tunic, ready to greet the Asakawa family’s guests in a manner befitting a roman footslave – by kissing their feet.
Master Gunter, his wife Elsa and 18 year old daughter Sabine (all three of them blond-haired) stepped into the porch and were warmly greeted by the dark-haired Mr and Mrs Asakawa and their daughter miss Kimi whilst, amidst all the commotion, slave Stephen was simultaneously given his orders by the equally dark-haired ‘housekeeper’, mistress Yumiko:
‘Slave kiss feet of honoured female guests. Obey!’
‘Aaah..!’ exclaimed master Gunter’s wife, Madam Elsa, ‘I see you have a humble roman footslave to serve us! How exciting!’
The older German woman, whom slave Stephen guessed to be similar in age to his mistress Haruko Asakawa i.e in her late thirties, spoke impeccable English but with a distinctive German accent. She was obviously a very well educated and successful woman in her own right – as you would expect of the wife of a successful European banker.
She was power-dressed to match her evident intellectual and financial power – a bright red, ankle length dress over bare legs and sparkling silver sandals exposing her bright-red, painted, shapely toenails.
Slave Stephen knew instinctively that he had to kiss Madam Elsa’s feet first. He knew that because he was naturally drawn to her power, and because she was the first of the two female guests to extend her right foot under his kneeling face for kissing.
The outstretched positioning of her foot caused the hem of her red dress to rise up exposing yet more of her pretty, soft, feminine ankle bone under the strap of her sparkly-silver sandal. He could now see clearly the veins running up the top of her pretty German foot, as he lowered his already bowed head even further towards ground level until his slavish lips made their first contact with Madam Elsa’s teutonic footflesh.
The first touch of lips on foot was electrifying for them both. Madam Elsa licked her own lips with lust as the handsome but humble 29 year old slaveboy, clad only in his roman-style plain, brown slave-tunic, submitted to her power, whilst for his part, the slave acknowledged in his heart and soul that this woman was his complete master and superior in every sense of those words – attractive, rich, intelligent, dressed in bright designer clothes and all-powerful.
The contrast between the two beings could not have been starker. She was, quite simply, his better – and everyone present knew it.
Master Gunter and Master Asakawa, in particular, enjoyed the scene. It was as if the degradation and abasement of the younger male slave only served to emphasise their own power as free men – as it displayed to everyone that their wives had to be treated with the utmost respect as the powerful spouses of successful, free businessmen.
And, of course, their daughters too.
Having kissed Madam Elsa’s left foot with equal humility and respect, slave Stephen was then ‘encouraged’ by his task-mistress, mistress Yumiko, to pay his slavish respects to Master Gunter’s 18 year old daughter Sabine, who had been waiting in the wings:
‘Slave kiss miss Sabine feet. Bless miss Sabine. Thank miss Sabine for enter master Asakawa home!’
Slave Stephen wondered how often similar scenes had been played out in Ancient roman households all those centuries ago. How many humble roman slaveboys had been required to kiss the feet of their master’s guests as they entered his villa? Had they too felt as powerless and as humble as he now did? Did the roman ladies’ feet feel as soft to the kiss as Madam Elsa’s? Did the veins in their soft, feminine feet twitch and flex in delighted reaction to the slaveboys’ humble kisses as Madam Elsa’s had done?
Like her mother, miss Sabine had somewhat veiny, although nevertheless pretty, feet. Also like her mother she was barefoot – although she was wearing shiny black, high-heeled stiletto pumps on her feet, shoes which, if anything, accentuated the most prominent veins in her feet. Miss Sabine had chosen to wear black footless-tights under a short, grey skirt. The nylon tights came down to the tops of her ankles where they ended in a black, lacy frill. The footless tights definitely served to frame her pretty, shapely ankles, and, as the young woman copied her mother and extended her right foot forward for the kneeling ‘roman’ footslave to pay homage to, the latter noticed a small red scar on the outer ankle bone of her right foot.
Such tiny imperfections however - the visible, blue veins and the small red cut - only served to emphasise to slave Stephen that although she was a flawed human being, miss Sabine was nevertheless his goddess, at least for the evening, and he must therefore demonstrate his inferiority and submissiveness before her by kissing her feet in public for all to see.
For that is what kissing a woman’s feet is all about. It’s the outward expression of that inner instinct on the part of the inferior male to submit to the superior female. By kissing miss Sabine’s feet he would be saying you are my superior, and I am fit only to touch your bare footflesh with my dirty slave lips. No other part of your body is appropriate for me to touch – for I am not a free man; I am not your equal, young mistress. I am worth less than the bacteria on your feet which my lips must taste.
Of course, these were not the words he had been commanded to speak out loud. A soon as he had respectfully placed and then withdrawn his lips from the veiny crown of her white foot, slave Stephen greeted miss Sabine as he had been bid:
‘God bless you, miss Sabine. This slave thanks you for visiting the household of his master, and prays that you will allow this dirty, unworthy slave the honour of being your personal foot-servant as you enjoy the hospitality of my master and his family this evening.’
Miss Sabine, as befits a charming if somewhat shy young woman, said nothing, but by withdrawing her right foot from under the kneeling slave’s nose and replacing it with her left, she signified that she would graciously accede to the humble slave’s request.
Her left foot seemed to wobble on its stiletto heel as slave Stephen’s lips made contact with the soft, white flesh on her upper left foot. It was, however, her mother, Madam Elsa, who responded verbally to the slave:
‘Ha! Ha! That’s right slave. Kiss my beautiful daughter’s feet. We are your betters and you will treat us with the respect we deserve!’
Mr Asakawa reinforced the message, assuring his guests that his slave was their slave:
‘Ha! Ha! Slave will obey you and your daughter, Elsa. If not obey, slave feel miss Yumiko whip!’
Miss Yumiko, who had been starting to feel a little jealous of the slave’s evident humility before his two German mistresses, smiled again at the thought of being in charge of the footslave’s discipline for the evening. She hoped she would indeed have cause to fetch the brown, leather, single-tailed slave-whip from her brother’s study in order to apply it to the back of ‘her’ roman slave. The whip had not been withdrawn in anger since slave Stephen’s arrival, although she had kept it oiled ready for the return of the Asakawa family’s regular slave – the indolent and lazy slave Jun who was still ‘relaxing’ in quarantine (Slave Jun was actually at that moment chained up in a ‘kennel’ that was no more than 4 feet squared and was longing for nothing more than to be released from quarantine so that he could serve his beloved mistresses in the Asakawa household again.)
Miss Sabine’s ears appeared to prick up at the mention of the ‘whip’!
The host Japanese family and their German guests were beginning to pair off in their conversations and polite small-talk – Master Asakawa & Master Gunter; Madam Haruko and Madam Elsa; and miss Kimi and miss Sabine. They all spoke in English – their only common language.
This, of course, left Miss Yumiko to direct the slave – a role she was only too happy to fulfil, especially as the ‘roman footslave’ theme had been her idea.
As the hosts and their guests settled into the comfortable chairs in the Asakawa family’s opulent living room, miss Yumiko decided that the next thing a roman taskmistress would make her charge do would be to wash the feet of the female guests.
She approached the senior female guest, Madam Elsa first:
‘Madam like dirty slave wash Madam feet?’
Slave Stephen noted how mistress Yumiko had quite deliberately described him as being ‘dirty’, whilst Madam Elsa’s feet were not described as dirty. In fact, he could already tell from the kisses he had earlier placed on Madam Elsa’s divine feet, that they were perfectly clean. And yet, that which was dirty was about to be required to wash that which was clean. It was a topsy-turvy world!
Be that as it may, he had to acknowledge that it was only right and proper that the dirty male slave should be forced to wash the clean female feet.
Madam Elsa, at any rate, seemed to think so:
‘Ha! Ha! Yes please, Yumiko. My feet are rather tired. Please have the slave undo my sandals and wash my feet in some lukewarm water.’
‘Yes, Madam. At once Madam.’
Miss Yumiko, seemingly falling under Madam Elsa’s powerful spell herself and willingly adopting the role of female housekeeper-cum-servant, was nevertheless delighted that she would have the opportunity of overseeing the inferior male footslave’s humble work.
From his kneeling position slave Stephen saw the black leather, zip-up ankle boots with the ‘hidden’ multi-coloured stripy ankle socks of miss Yumiko disappear temporarily from view as she went to the downstairs bathroom to fetch a bowl of lukewarm water, a small sponge and a towel – all the equipment the roman footslave would need to wash his mistresses’ feet.
In the meantime he knelt forward in front of Madam Elsa in order to start undoing the silver ankle strap on her right sandaled-foot.
In keeping with a superior ‘roman’ matron, Madam Elsa ignored the slave fumbling at her footwear as she established a rapport with her hostess, Madam Haruko, who was sitting beside her on the sofa. The two ladies were talking about their mutual interests; the pressures of being married to workaholic men their respective outfits for the evening.
Slave Stephen wondered if slaves in Ancient Rome also felt ignored by their mistresses as they took off or put on their mistresses’ footwear. But then why should a superior, free woman give any attention to a faceless male slaveboy at her feet? Slaves were two a denari! Madam Elsa didn’t even know slave Stephen’s name – nor did she need to know it.
With perfect timing miss Yumiko returned with the basin of lukewarm water, a soft sponge and a fluffy, white towel just as slave Stephen was gently and respectfully removing the second sandal from Madam Elsa’s left foot.
The superior woman did nothing to help him as he carefully lifted her now bare right foot off the luxurious carpet of the living room and placed it gently into the bowl of water which mistress Yumiko had kindly placed beside him on a newspaper on the carpet.
Madam Elsa continued to ignore him as he cradled her pretty foot in the water with his left hand and gently rubbed the now wet sponge over the veins on the top of her foot. She did appear to wiggle and spread her toes in order to afford him easier access to the sticky and sensitive areas between her toes, but that may just have been an instinctive reaction on her part to the pleasant sensation of the lukewarm water and soft sponge rubbing along the top of her foot.
After some 5 minutes slave Stephen then lifted Madam Elsa’s right foot out of the bowl and placed it onto the white, fluffy towel lying on the ground directly in front of her.
He then, under the watchful eye of his self-appointed taskmistress, miss Yumiko, decided to wash Madam Elsa’s left foot, before drying both her feet together. This appeared to be the correct thing to do as he wasn’t scolded or criticised by either Madam Elsa or miss Yumiko.
Having thoroughly dried Madam Elsa’s freshly washed feet, he then made to put her sparkly-silver designer sandals back onto her feet. At this point miss Yumiko intervened:
‘Excuse me, Madam, Madam happy with slave work?’
Madam Elsa smiled and interrupted her conversation with Madam Haruko momentarily in order to crouch forwards in her seat and inspect her feet.
As befits a ‘roman matron’ she then indicated her satisfaction with a somewhat derisory flick of her bejewelled hand:
‘Yes thank you, Yumiko. Have the slave put my sandals back on my feet, please.’
Yumiko beamed, genuinely pleased that her slave had performed his humble chore to the honoured guest’s satisfaction.
She decided to go around the other ladies in the room:
‘Madam Haruko want slave wash Madam feet?’
Madam Haruko just laughed:
‘Ha! Ha! Madam Haruko wear stockings-o. Not want srave-o wash stockinged-o feet! Besides, srave-o already wash Madam Haruko feet earlier!’
That was partially true – he had given his master’s wife a full pedicure earlier that afternoon which had included rubbing oil into her soft feet.
Anyway, as he wasn’t required to wash Madam Haruko’s feet he just humbly kissed both her tan-stockinged feet inside her pink, strappy sandals.
Yumiko and her kneeling footslave then moved over to where miss Sabine and miss Kimi were sitting – both girls apparently engaged in an animated, but friendly, conversation about the respective merits of European and Asian pop music.
Yumiko, conscious of the protocol in such situations, approached the guest first on the slave’s behalf:
‘Miss Sabine want dirty slave wash miss Sabine feet?’
Miss Sabine giggled and, with some encouragement from her new best friend, miss Kimi, indicated that she would indeed like to have her bare feet washed by the slave:
‘Yes please, Yumiko. Do I have to slip off my shoes myself or will you make the slave take them off for me?’
Like her mother – perfect English, but with a strong German accent. It was, moreover, a perfectly reasonable question from the inexperienced 18 year old German mistress. Her family didn’t have a footslave and, after all, she was perfectly capable of kicking off her own black, shiny leather, high-heeled pumps. She wouldn’t even have to reach down to do so. However, she already sensed that it was the slave’s job to take off her shoes – and she didn’t want to make a, quite literal, faux-pas.
Miss Yumiko kindly put her right:
‘Miss Sabine relax. Miss Yumiko make slave take off miss Sabine shoes; gently wash miss Sabine feet.’
And with that she changed her tone in order to snap her orders at the kneeling slave:
‘Slave remove miss Sabine shoes while miss Yumiko fetch clean water. Slave obey!’
Unlike Madam Elsa and Madam Haruko, the two younger women appeared content to interrupt their conversation and concentrate on witnessing the humble, but attractive, 29 year old slaveboy as he attended to the younger female guest’s feet. He was, actually, quite fanciable – and may even have been considered as boyfriend material by the two girls had he not been a down-in-the-dirt footslave.
For her part, miss Sabine very much enjoyed the feeling of the hunky slave removing her shiny, black high-heeled shoes from her pretty young feet. She not only enjoyed the feel of his hands lifting and cradling each foot as he slipped off the shoes, but also the feeling of power she got over him as she looked down at the top of his bowed head. He was so close to her feet he must be able to smell them! The thought, momentarily, embarrassed her, but then she remembered that she had bathed earlier that day and, in any case, the slave was about to wash her feet, so any sweat that had built up in the meantime would soon be washed away.
When the slave eventually began ladling the water over her feet with his cupped hand and massaging the lukewarm water into her soft bare feet with the ultra-soft sponge she felt as though she were in heaven. She even closed her eyes at one point.
Miss Yumiko, on the other hand, had her eyes wide open as she kept a close watch on her slave’s performance:
‘Slave be careful! Not splash miss Sabine tights!’
It was a timely reminder, for slave Stephen was sponging miss Sabine’s upper right, ankle – the one with the small cut on the outer anklebone - when miss Yumiko’s verbal warning came. The black, lacy hem of miss Sabine’s footless nylon tights was very feminine and attractive – but it must not be splashed with her dirty foot-water.
And so he exercised caution. He knew miss Yumiko was just itching to fetch her brother’s whip!
Having dried miss Sabine’s feet and put her shoes back on for her (she already expected him to put her shoes back on her feet as she was now a fully-fledged supporter of male slavery), slave Stephen waited to see whether his master’s daughter, miss Kimi, wanted her feet to be washed.
Silly question – of course she did!
And so, whilst miss Yumiko again withdrew to the bathroom with the foot-basin to get some fresh water, slave Stephen began untying the laces on miss Kimi’s roman-style flat sandals.
The laces criss-crossed her feet and lower leg up to the top of her shapely calf muscles, and as he fumbled to untie the laces from the top, slave Stephen knew that he really was repeating a common scene from ancient history – a household footslave undoing his master’s daughter’s brown, lace-up, leather sandals in order to humbly wash her dirty feet in front of her father and his guests.
As he knelt in front of his young mistress, for a split second he felt almost as if he had been here before. Had he, perhaps, been a slave in a previous life in Ancient Rome? Did that explain his natural submissiveness? Was he not only born to be a slave, but destined to serve women and to be their slave in his next life? And the one after that? For all eternity?
He hoped so, for although kneeling at the feet of a 19 year old girl was humiliating, it also felt right.
Miss Kimi directed him in the washing of her feet herself. Unlike the feet he had washed of the other two ladies, Miss Kimi’s feet did actually need a good wash. If you remember he had only had time to mouth-wash miss Kimi’s feet prior to the guests’ arrival, and so she was keen to point out to him the bits he had missed with his tongue – especially on the underside of her toes:
‘Slave wash here!... Rub sponge underneath miss Kimi big toe!... Slave not rub heel…concentrate on side of miss Kimi foot! Dirty slave obey!’
Her new friend, miss Sabine, was impressed with the way her counterpart spoke to the slave – curtly and authoritatively. Her father, Gunter, could already tell from the expression in her eyes that she wanted her own personal footslave.
During dinner itself slave Stephen was made to kneel under the table at miss Yumiko’s boots. He was hungry, and the food smelt delicious, but the only way of dismissing the hunger pangs from his mind was to concentrate on the black, leather zip-up ankle boots in front of his face. He in fact, because miss Yumiko had her left booted foot positioned on the floor at an angle, could observe the multi-coloured top of her ‘secret’ ankle sock – the socks she didn’t want anyone else to see that she was wearing inside her boots. He therefore felt privileged to have sight of his mistress’s inner footwear, and duly concentrated his thoughts on that.
Just think, he told himself, your mistress Yumiko’s multi-coloured ankle sock is gradually absorbing her footsweat inside her hot ankle boot as she eats her delicious dinner. That will be your sustenance later in the evening – the sweat from your mistress’s socks – and it is the only sustenance you are worthy of!
After dinner, the two younger women, miss Kimi and miss Sabine, retired to the former’s bedroom, whilst miss Yumiko stayed in the living room with the girls’ parents. Slave Stephen was ordered to follow miss Kimi.
In miss Kimi’s bedroom the two girls, both sitting on the edge of Kimi’s bed, initially discussed in some detail the contents of her wardrobe, and their respective tastes in fashion. The conversation soon turned, however, to the subject of male slavery and, more specifically, to the footslave kneeling at their pretty feet.
Miss Sabine began by admiring the ornate and rather imposing shoeshine stand in miss Kimi’s bedroom. She then had lots of questions for her host:
‘How long has your family had a footslave, Kimi?’
‘Hah! We have slave Jun nearly 2 years now! Kimi father buy him on Kimi 18th birthday for present. But slave Jun dirty; lazy. Sit in quarantine nearly 2 weeks – so father buy this rented slave for help look after Kimi feet!’
It was not slave Stephen’s place to say so, but, of course, he wasn’t just hired to be miss Kimi’s personal footslave. He was the footslave of Mr Asakawa’s wife, Haruko, and her sister-in-law Yumiko, too. But miss Kimi, to be fair, did regard him as her personal footslave. And why not? Was she not perfectly entitled to do so – especially given that, if she was to be believed, the family’s regular slave, slave Jun, had been her 18th birthday present!
Miss Sabine evidently believed it anyway:
‘Cool! I wish my father would buy me a slave! What sort of things do you make the slave do?’
Slave Stephen was kneeling humbly with his head bowed at the two girls’ feet as they sat on the edge of their bed and talked about him. Again, the comparisons with Ancient Rome occurred to him – slaves were always in the background; left out of the conversation; silent; obedient; ready to serve their female masters at the click of a finger.
He listened as miss Kimi described his daily life, as she perceived it, in her broken English:
‘Slave must kiss and wash Kimi feet every morning before Kimi go to college. Then slave stay at home and wash Kimi dirty socks; clean Kimi dirty boots with tongue until Kimi come home in evening. Then slave rub Kimi sock feet; smell dirty socks, before sleep at end of Kimi bed near Kimi bare feet.’
Again, this description was only partially true. Slave Stephen had many other duties in addition to taking care of miss Kimi’s feet and footwear, but it was true that he had spent several nights sleeping at the end of her bed so that she could use his face as a hot water-bottle for her feet.
Miss Sabine clapped her hands with delight. Slave Stephen concentrated his humble gaze on the veins along the top of her right foot as she asked her next question of her host:
‘And do you ever beat him? I mean, are you allowed to whip him?’
Miss Kimi laughed:
‘Ha! Ha! Yes. Miss Kimi allowed use father’s whip if slave insolent or not obey!’
Slave Stephen didn’t know if this was actually true or not, as miss Kimi, indeed no-one, had had occasion to whip him since his arrival earlier that week in the Asakawa household. He hadn’t even seen this dreaded brown, leather slave-whip which Mr Asakawa apparently kept in his study.
His heart sank, however, as he realised he was about to make its acquaintance:
‘Sabine want whip slave? Want Kimi fetch whip?’
‘Oh yes please, Kimi! That would be fun!’ replied a now exuberant Sabine.
Miss Kimi promptly jumped off the bed and ran down to her father’s study to fetch the family slave-whip.
Slave Stephen decided to take liberties and to beg the inexperienced miss Sabine not to whip him. He began to feverishly kiss the young woman’s bare feet and black, leather pumps:
‘Oh pray, mistress Sabine, if it pleases you beautiful and all-powerful mistress Sabine, this slave begs you not to whip him. I will kiss your feet 100 times, sweet, feminine mistress, but please spare me from the sting of the whip!’
Slave Stephen had been whipped often enough to know that he didn’t like it.
It seemed, however, that he had misjudged miss Sabine, for she was not, or rather she was no longer, the timid, inexperienced young mistress who had tentatively stretched forward her foot for him to kiss in the porch just 3 hours before.
She was now a fully paid-up slave owning mistress:
‘Shut up, dirty slave. I am going to whip you because I want to! Pull up your slave tunic so that I can get a good look at your bare, white back. I want to see where I can put the stripe!’
The stripe! Singular! Praise be! Perhaps this kind-hearted and merciful young woman was only inclined to give him one lash. He probably deserved more for daring to beg for mercy. Yes, this young woman wanted to find out what it was like to whip a slave, and so whipped he would be.
When miss Kimi re-entered the room carrying the brown, leather whip coiled up in her pretty right hand, slave Stephen was already kneeling in front of a now standing miss Sabine with his slave tunic pulled up to his shoulders exposing his lower back.
From his kneeling position, forehead touching the floor, he could only catch a fleeting glimpse of the brown, leather slave-whip. It did not appear to be too long, and it looked like it was indeed single-tailed. However, he knew from bitter experience that these were the very whips which often caused the greatest sting.
Miss Kimi proudly handed the whip over to miss Sabine, who lovingly ran it through her fingers before gleefully cracking it in the air a couple of times above the kneeling slave’s back, causing him to flinch. He saw the veins and muscles in her bare feet twitch inside her patent, black leather, high-heeled shoes with each crack of the whip as she stood in front of him and played with her new toy.
Miss Kimi, however, wanted to help with the slave’s punishment:
‘Kimi stand in front of slave. Make slave put head between Kimi ankles; hold slave in place while Sabine whip slave!’ she helpfully suggested.
Miss Sabine, who now, somewhat bizarrely, appeared to be in charge of the whole scene, ‘agreed’ to her friend’s suggestion, and positioned herself at a suitable distance behind the kneeling slave whilst miss Kimi stood with her roman-sandaled ankles on either side of the slave’s bowed head, before closing her legs in on the slave’s head until he could feel the straps of her sandals digging into his temples.
He could now see and smell nothing but the brown, leather sandals and soft, white feet and ankles of his mistress Kimi as he heard miss Sabine warn him to prepare for the first stroke as she stood behind him.
The first stroke!
How many did the girls end up giving him? That would be telling!
Suffice it to say that the following morning, when the doorbell rang and a crate was unexpectedly delivered with slave Jun trussed up inside it, slave Stephen was actually glad to be leaving the Asakawa household and returning to the showrooms of ‘Rent-A-Slave’ – even if he would be ‘out of service’ for a few days whilst the nasty wounds on his lower back healed!
The guests arrived a fashionably 20 minutes late.
Slave Stephen was now well into his role as a roman household slave as mistress Yumiko had him kneeling in the hallway, just inside the front door, head bowed and attired humbly in his plain, brown, roman slave tunic, ready to greet the Asakawa family’s guests in a manner befitting a roman footslave – by kissing their feet.
Master Gunter, his wife Elsa and 18 year old daughter Sabine (all three of them blond-haired) stepped into the porch and were warmly greeted by the dark-haired Mr and Mrs Asakawa and their daughter miss Kimi whilst, amidst all the commotion, slave Stephen was simultaneously given his orders by the equally dark-haired ‘housekeeper’, mistress Yumiko:
‘Slave kiss feet of honoured female guests. Obey!’
‘Aaah..!’ exclaimed master Gunter’s wife, Madam Elsa, ‘I see you have a humble roman footslave to serve us! How exciting!’
The older German woman, whom slave Stephen guessed to be similar in age to his mistress Haruko Asakawa i.e in her late thirties, spoke impeccable English but with a distinctive German accent. She was obviously a very well educated and successful woman in her own right – as you would expect of the wife of a successful European banker.
She was power-dressed to match her evident intellectual and financial power – a bright red, ankle length dress over bare legs and sparkling silver sandals exposing her bright-red, painted, shapely toenails.
Slave Stephen knew instinctively that he had to kiss Madam Elsa’s feet first. He knew that because he was naturally drawn to her power, and because she was the first of the two female guests to extend her right foot under his kneeling face for kissing.
The outstretched positioning of her foot caused the hem of her red dress to rise up exposing yet more of her pretty, soft, feminine ankle bone under the strap of her sparkly-silver sandal. He could now see clearly the veins running up the top of her pretty German foot, as he lowered his already bowed head even further towards ground level until his slavish lips made their first contact with Madam Elsa’s teutonic footflesh.
The first touch of lips on foot was electrifying for them both. Madam Elsa licked her own lips with lust as the handsome but humble 29 year old slaveboy, clad only in his roman-style plain, brown slave-tunic, submitted to her power, whilst for his part, the slave acknowledged in his heart and soul that this woman was his complete master and superior in every sense of those words – attractive, rich, intelligent, dressed in bright designer clothes and all-powerful.
The contrast between the two beings could not have been starker. She was, quite simply, his better – and everyone present knew it.
Master Gunter and Master Asakawa, in particular, enjoyed the scene. It was as if the degradation and abasement of the younger male slave only served to emphasise their own power as free men – as it displayed to everyone that their wives had to be treated with the utmost respect as the powerful spouses of successful, free businessmen.
And, of course, their daughters too.
Having kissed Madam Elsa’s left foot with equal humility and respect, slave Stephen was then ‘encouraged’ by his task-mistress, mistress Yumiko, to pay his slavish respects to Master Gunter’s 18 year old daughter Sabine, who had been waiting in the wings:
‘Slave kiss miss Sabine feet. Bless miss Sabine. Thank miss Sabine for enter master Asakawa home!’
Slave Stephen wondered how often similar scenes had been played out in Ancient roman households all those centuries ago. How many humble roman slaveboys had been required to kiss the feet of their master’s guests as they entered his villa? Had they too felt as powerless and as humble as he now did? Did the roman ladies’ feet feel as soft to the kiss as Madam Elsa’s? Did the veins in their soft, feminine feet twitch and flex in delighted reaction to the slaveboys’ humble kisses as Madam Elsa’s had done?
Like her mother, miss Sabine had somewhat veiny, although nevertheless pretty, feet. Also like her mother she was barefoot – although she was wearing shiny black, high-heeled stiletto pumps on her feet, shoes which, if anything, accentuated the most prominent veins in her feet. Miss Sabine had chosen to wear black footless-tights under a short, grey skirt. The nylon tights came down to the tops of her ankles where they ended in a black, lacy frill. The footless tights definitely served to frame her pretty, shapely ankles, and, as the young woman copied her mother and extended her right foot forward for the kneeling ‘roman’ footslave to pay homage to, the latter noticed a small red scar on the outer ankle bone of her right foot.
Such tiny imperfections however - the visible, blue veins and the small red cut - only served to emphasise to slave Stephen that although she was a flawed human being, miss Sabine was nevertheless his goddess, at least for the evening, and he must therefore demonstrate his inferiority and submissiveness before her by kissing her feet in public for all to see.
For that is what kissing a woman’s feet is all about. It’s the outward expression of that inner instinct on the part of the inferior male to submit to the superior female. By kissing miss Sabine’s feet he would be saying you are my superior, and I am fit only to touch your bare footflesh with my dirty slave lips. No other part of your body is appropriate for me to touch – for I am not a free man; I am not your equal, young mistress. I am worth less than the bacteria on your feet which my lips must taste.
Of course, these were not the words he had been commanded to speak out loud. A soon as he had respectfully placed and then withdrawn his lips from the veiny crown of her white foot, slave Stephen greeted miss Sabine as he had been bid:
‘God bless you, miss Sabine. This slave thanks you for visiting the household of his master, and prays that you will allow this dirty, unworthy slave the honour of being your personal foot-servant as you enjoy the hospitality of my master and his family this evening.’
Miss Sabine, as befits a charming if somewhat shy young woman, said nothing, but by withdrawing her right foot from under the kneeling slave’s nose and replacing it with her left, she signified that she would graciously accede to the humble slave’s request.
Her left foot seemed to wobble on its stiletto heel as slave Stephen’s lips made contact with the soft, white flesh on her upper left foot. It was, however, her mother, Madam Elsa, who responded verbally to the slave:
‘Ha! Ha! That’s right slave. Kiss my beautiful daughter’s feet. We are your betters and you will treat us with the respect we deserve!’
Mr Asakawa reinforced the message, assuring his guests that his slave was their slave:
‘Ha! Ha! Slave will obey you and your daughter, Elsa. If not obey, slave feel miss Yumiko whip!’
Miss Yumiko, who had been starting to feel a little jealous of the slave’s evident humility before his two German mistresses, smiled again at the thought of being in charge of the footslave’s discipline for the evening. She hoped she would indeed have cause to fetch the brown, leather, single-tailed slave-whip from her brother’s study in order to apply it to the back of ‘her’ roman slave. The whip had not been withdrawn in anger since slave Stephen’s arrival, although she had kept it oiled ready for the return of the Asakawa family’s regular slave – the indolent and lazy slave Jun who was still ‘relaxing’ in quarantine (Slave Jun was actually at that moment chained up in a ‘kennel’ that was no more than 4 feet squared and was longing for nothing more than to be released from quarantine so that he could serve his beloved mistresses in the Asakawa household again.)
Miss Sabine’s ears appeared to prick up at the mention of the ‘whip’!
The host Japanese family and their German guests were beginning to pair off in their conversations and polite small-talk – Master Asakawa & Master Gunter; Madam Haruko and Madam Elsa; and miss Kimi and miss Sabine. They all spoke in English – their only common language.
This, of course, left Miss Yumiko to direct the slave – a role she was only too happy to fulfil, especially as the ‘roman footslave’ theme had been her idea.
As the hosts and their guests settled into the comfortable chairs in the Asakawa family’s opulent living room, miss Yumiko decided that the next thing a roman taskmistress would make her charge do would be to wash the feet of the female guests.
She approached the senior female guest, Madam Elsa first:
‘Madam like dirty slave wash Madam feet?’
Slave Stephen noted how mistress Yumiko had quite deliberately described him as being ‘dirty’, whilst Madam Elsa’s feet were not described as dirty. In fact, he could already tell from the kisses he had earlier placed on Madam Elsa’s divine feet, that they were perfectly clean. And yet, that which was dirty was about to be required to wash that which was clean. It was a topsy-turvy world!
Be that as it may, he had to acknowledge that it was only right and proper that the dirty male slave should be forced to wash the clean female feet.
Madam Elsa, at any rate, seemed to think so:
‘Ha! Ha! Yes please, Yumiko. My feet are rather tired. Please have the slave undo my sandals and wash my feet in some lukewarm water.’
‘Yes, Madam. At once Madam.’
Miss Yumiko, seemingly falling under Madam Elsa’s powerful spell herself and willingly adopting the role of female housekeeper-cum-servant, was nevertheless delighted that she would have the opportunity of overseeing the inferior male footslave’s humble work.
From his kneeling position slave Stephen saw the black leather, zip-up ankle boots with the ‘hidden’ multi-coloured stripy ankle socks of miss Yumiko disappear temporarily from view as she went to the downstairs bathroom to fetch a bowl of lukewarm water, a small sponge and a towel – all the equipment the roman footslave would need to wash his mistresses’ feet.
In the meantime he knelt forward in front of Madam Elsa in order to start undoing the silver ankle strap on her right sandaled-foot.
In keeping with a superior ‘roman’ matron, Madam Elsa ignored the slave fumbling at her footwear as she established a rapport with her hostess, Madam Haruko, who was sitting beside her on the sofa. The two ladies were talking about their mutual interests; the pressures of being married to workaholic men their respective outfits for the evening.
Slave Stephen wondered if slaves in Ancient Rome also felt ignored by their mistresses as they took off or put on their mistresses’ footwear. But then why should a superior, free woman give any attention to a faceless male slaveboy at her feet? Slaves were two a denari! Madam Elsa didn’t even know slave Stephen’s name – nor did she need to know it.
With perfect timing miss Yumiko returned with the basin of lukewarm water, a soft sponge and a fluffy, white towel just as slave Stephen was gently and respectfully removing the second sandal from Madam Elsa’s left foot.
The superior woman did nothing to help him as he carefully lifted her now bare right foot off the luxurious carpet of the living room and placed it gently into the bowl of water which mistress Yumiko had kindly placed beside him on a newspaper on the carpet.
Madam Elsa continued to ignore him as he cradled her pretty foot in the water with his left hand and gently rubbed the now wet sponge over the veins on the top of her foot. She did appear to wiggle and spread her toes in order to afford him easier access to the sticky and sensitive areas between her toes, but that may just have been an instinctive reaction on her part to the pleasant sensation of the lukewarm water and soft sponge rubbing along the top of her foot.
After some 5 minutes slave Stephen then lifted Madam Elsa’s right foot out of the bowl and placed it onto the white, fluffy towel lying on the ground directly in front of her.
He then, under the watchful eye of his self-appointed taskmistress, miss Yumiko, decided to wash Madam Elsa’s left foot, before drying both her feet together. This appeared to be the correct thing to do as he wasn’t scolded or criticised by either Madam Elsa or miss Yumiko.
Having thoroughly dried Madam Elsa’s freshly washed feet, he then made to put her sparkly-silver designer sandals back onto her feet. At this point miss Yumiko intervened:
‘Excuse me, Madam, Madam happy with slave work?’
Madam Elsa smiled and interrupted her conversation with Madam Haruko momentarily in order to crouch forwards in her seat and inspect her feet.
As befits a ‘roman matron’ she then indicated her satisfaction with a somewhat derisory flick of her bejewelled hand:
‘Yes thank you, Yumiko. Have the slave put my sandals back on my feet, please.’
Yumiko beamed, genuinely pleased that her slave had performed his humble chore to the honoured guest’s satisfaction.
She decided to go around the other ladies in the room:
‘Madam Haruko want slave wash Madam feet?’
Madam Haruko just laughed:
‘Ha! Ha! Madam Haruko wear stockings-o. Not want srave-o wash stockinged-o feet! Besides, srave-o already wash Madam Haruko feet earlier!’
That was partially true – he had given his master’s wife a full pedicure earlier that afternoon which had included rubbing oil into her soft feet.
Anyway, as he wasn’t required to wash Madam Haruko’s feet he just humbly kissed both her tan-stockinged feet inside her pink, strappy sandals.
Yumiko and her kneeling footslave then moved over to where miss Sabine and miss Kimi were sitting – both girls apparently engaged in an animated, but friendly, conversation about the respective merits of European and Asian pop music.
Yumiko, conscious of the protocol in such situations, approached the guest first on the slave’s behalf:
‘Miss Sabine want dirty slave wash miss Sabine feet?’
Miss Sabine giggled and, with some encouragement from her new best friend, miss Kimi, indicated that she would indeed like to have her bare feet washed by the slave:
‘Yes please, Yumiko. Do I have to slip off my shoes myself or will you make the slave take them off for me?’
Like her mother – perfect English, but with a strong German accent. It was, moreover, a perfectly reasonable question from the inexperienced 18 year old German mistress. Her family didn’t have a footslave and, after all, she was perfectly capable of kicking off her own black, shiny leather, high-heeled pumps. She wouldn’t even have to reach down to do so. However, she already sensed that it was the slave’s job to take off her shoes – and she didn’t want to make a, quite literal, faux-pas.
Miss Yumiko kindly put her right:
‘Miss Sabine relax. Miss Yumiko make slave take off miss Sabine shoes; gently wash miss Sabine feet.’
And with that she changed her tone in order to snap her orders at the kneeling slave:
‘Slave remove miss Sabine shoes while miss Yumiko fetch clean water. Slave obey!’
Unlike Madam Elsa and Madam Haruko, the two younger women appeared content to interrupt their conversation and concentrate on witnessing the humble, but attractive, 29 year old slaveboy as he attended to the younger female guest’s feet. He was, actually, quite fanciable – and may even have been considered as boyfriend material by the two girls had he not been a down-in-the-dirt footslave.
For her part, miss Sabine very much enjoyed the feeling of the hunky slave removing her shiny, black high-heeled shoes from her pretty young feet. She not only enjoyed the feel of his hands lifting and cradling each foot as he slipped off the shoes, but also the feeling of power she got over him as she looked down at the top of his bowed head. He was so close to her feet he must be able to smell them! The thought, momentarily, embarrassed her, but then she remembered that she had bathed earlier that day and, in any case, the slave was about to wash her feet, so any sweat that had built up in the meantime would soon be washed away.
When the slave eventually began ladling the water over her feet with his cupped hand and massaging the lukewarm water into her soft bare feet with the ultra-soft sponge she felt as though she were in heaven. She even closed her eyes at one point.
Miss Yumiko, on the other hand, had her eyes wide open as she kept a close watch on her slave’s performance:
‘Slave be careful! Not splash miss Sabine tights!’
It was a timely reminder, for slave Stephen was sponging miss Sabine’s upper right, ankle – the one with the small cut on the outer anklebone - when miss Yumiko’s verbal warning came. The black, lacy hem of miss Sabine’s footless nylon tights was very feminine and attractive – but it must not be splashed with her dirty foot-water.
And so he exercised caution. He knew miss Yumiko was just itching to fetch her brother’s whip!
Having dried miss Sabine’s feet and put her shoes back on for her (she already expected him to put her shoes back on her feet as she was now a fully-fledged supporter of male slavery), slave Stephen waited to see whether his master’s daughter, miss Kimi, wanted her feet to be washed.
Silly question – of course she did!
And so, whilst miss Yumiko again withdrew to the bathroom with the foot-basin to get some fresh water, slave Stephen began untying the laces on miss Kimi’s roman-style flat sandals.
The laces criss-crossed her feet and lower leg up to the top of her shapely calf muscles, and as he fumbled to untie the laces from the top, slave Stephen knew that he really was repeating a common scene from ancient history – a household footslave undoing his master’s daughter’s brown, lace-up, leather sandals in order to humbly wash her dirty feet in front of her father and his guests.
As he knelt in front of his young mistress, for a split second he felt almost as if he had been here before. Had he, perhaps, been a slave in a previous life in Ancient Rome? Did that explain his natural submissiveness? Was he not only born to be a slave, but destined to serve women and to be their slave in his next life? And the one after that? For all eternity?
He hoped so, for although kneeling at the feet of a 19 year old girl was humiliating, it also felt right.
Miss Kimi directed him in the washing of her feet herself. Unlike the feet he had washed of the other two ladies, Miss Kimi’s feet did actually need a good wash. If you remember he had only had time to mouth-wash miss Kimi’s feet prior to the guests’ arrival, and so she was keen to point out to him the bits he had missed with his tongue – especially on the underside of her toes:
‘Slave wash here!... Rub sponge underneath miss Kimi big toe!... Slave not rub heel…concentrate on side of miss Kimi foot! Dirty slave obey!’
Her new friend, miss Sabine, was impressed with the way her counterpart spoke to the slave – curtly and authoritatively. Her father, Gunter, could already tell from the expression in her eyes that she wanted her own personal footslave.
During dinner itself slave Stephen was made to kneel under the table at miss Yumiko’s boots. He was hungry, and the food smelt delicious, but the only way of dismissing the hunger pangs from his mind was to concentrate on the black, leather zip-up ankle boots in front of his face. He in fact, because miss Yumiko had her left booted foot positioned on the floor at an angle, could observe the multi-coloured top of her ‘secret’ ankle sock – the socks she didn’t want anyone else to see that she was wearing inside her boots. He therefore felt privileged to have sight of his mistress’s inner footwear, and duly concentrated his thoughts on that.
Just think, he told himself, your mistress Yumiko’s multi-coloured ankle sock is gradually absorbing her footsweat inside her hot ankle boot as she eats her delicious dinner. That will be your sustenance later in the evening – the sweat from your mistress’s socks – and it is the only sustenance you are worthy of!
After dinner, the two younger women, miss Kimi and miss Sabine, retired to the former’s bedroom, whilst miss Yumiko stayed in the living room with the girls’ parents. Slave Stephen was ordered to follow miss Kimi.
In miss Kimi’s bedroom the two girls, both sitting on the edge of Kimi’s bed, initially discussed in some detail the contents of her wardrobe, and their respective tastes in fashion. The conversation soon turned, however, to the subject of male slavery and, more specifically, to the footslave kneeling at their pretty feet.
Miss Sabine began by admiring the ornate and rather imposing shoeshine stand in miss Kimi’s bedroom. She then had lots of questions for her host:
‘How long has your family had a footslave, Kimi?’
‘Hah! We have slave Jun nearly 2 years now! Kimi father buy him on Kimi 18th birthday for present. But slave Jun dirty; lazy. Sit in quarantine nearly 2 weeks – so father buy this rented slave for help look after Kimi feet!’
It was not slave Stephen’s place to say so, but, of course, he wasn’t just hired to be miss Kimi’s personal footslave. He was the footslave of Mr Asakawa’s wife, Haruko, and her sister-in-law Yumiko, too. But miss Kimi, to be fair, did regard him as her personal footslave. And why not? Was she not perfectly entitled to do so – especially given that, if she was to be believed, the family’s regular slave, slave Jun, had been her 18th birthday present!
Miss Sabine evidently believed it anyway:
‘Cool! I wish my father would buy me a slave! What sort of things do you make the slave do?’
Slave Stephen was kneeling humbly with his head bowed at the two girls’ feet as they sat on the edge of their bed and talked about him. Again, the comparisons with Ancient Rome occurred to him – slaves were always in the background; left out of the conversation; silent; obedient; ready to serve their female masters at the click of a finger.
He listened as miss Kimi described his daily life, as she perceived it, in her broken English:
‘Slave must kiss and wash Kimi feet every morning before Kimi go to college. Then slave stay at home and wash Kimi dirty socks; clean Kimi dirty boots with tongue until Kimi come home in evening. Then slave rub Kimi sock feet; smell dirty socks, before sleep at end of Kimi bed near Kimi bare feet.’
Again, this description was only partially true. Slave Stephen had many other duties in addition to taking care of miss Kimi’s feet and footwear, but it was true that he had spent several nights sleeping at the end of her bed so that she could use his face as a hot water-bottle for her feet.
Miss Sabine clapped her hands with delight. Slave Stephen concentrated his humble gaze on the veins along the top of her right foot as she asked her next question of her host:
‘And do you ever beat him? I mean, are you allowed to whip him?’
Miss Kimi laughed:
‘Ha! Ha! Yes. Miss Kimi allowed use father’s whip if slave insolent or not obey!’
Slave Stephen didn’t know if this was actually true or not, as miss Kimi, indeed no-one, had had occasion to whip him since his arrival earlier that week in the Asakawa household. He hadn’t even seen this dreaded brown, leather slave-whip which Mr Asakawa apparently kept in his study.
His heart sank, however, as he realised he was about to make its acquaintance:
‘Sabine want whip slave? Want Kimi fetch whip?’
‘Oh yes please, Kimi! That would be fun!’ replied a now exuberant Sabine.
Miss Kimi promptly jumped off the bed and ran down to her father’s study to fetch the family slave-whip.
Slave Stephen decided to take liberties and to beg the inexperienced miss Sabine not to whip him. He began to feverishly kiss the young woman’s bare feet and black, leather pumps:
‘Oh pray, mistress Sabine, if it pleases you beautiful and all-powerful mistress Sabine, this slave begs you not to whip him. I will kiss your feet 100 times, sweet, feminine mistress, but please spare me from the sting of the whip!’
Slave Stephen had been whipped often enough to know that he didn’t like it.
It seemed, however, that he had misjudged miss Sabine, for she was not, or rather she was no longer, the timid, inexperienced young mistress who had tentatively stretched forward her foot for him to kiss in the porch just 3 hours before.
She was now a fully paid-up slave owning mistress:
‘Shut up, dirty slave. I am going to whip you because I want to! Pull up your slave tunic so that I can get a good look at your bare, white back. I want to see where I can put the stripe!’
The stripe! Singular! Praise be! Perhaps this kind-hearted and merciful young woman was only inclined to give him one lash. He probably deserved more for daring to beg for mercy. Yes, this young woman wanted to find out what it was like to whip a slave, and so whipped he would be.
When miss Kimi re-entered the room carrying the brown, leather whip coiled up in her pretty right hand, slave Stephen was already kneeling in front of a now standing miss Sabine with his slave tunic pulled up to his shoulders exposing his lower back.
From his kneeling position, forehead touching the floor, he could only catch a fleeting glimpse of the brown, leather slave-whip. It did not appear to be too long, and it looked like it was indeed single-tailed. However, he knew from bitter experience that these were the very whips which often caused the greatest sting.
Miss Kimi proudly handed the whip over to miss Sabine, who lovingly ran it through her fingers before gleefully cracking it in the air a couple of times above the kneeling slave’s back, causing him to flinch. He saw the veins and muscles in her bare feet twitch inside her patent, black leather, high-heeled shoes with each crack of the whip as she stood in front of him and played with her new toy.
Miss Kimi, however, wanted to help with the slave’s punishment:
‘Kimi stand in front of slave. Make slave put head between Kimi ankles; hold slave in place while Sabine whip slave!’ she helpfully suggested.
Miss Sabine, who now, somewhat bizarrely, appeared to be in charge of the whole scene, ‘agreed’ to her friend’s suggestion, and positioned herself at a suitable distance behind the kneeling slave whilst miss Kimi stood with her roman-sandaled ankles on either side of the slave’s bowed head, before closing her legs in on the slave’s head until he could feel the straps of her sandals digging into his temples.
He could now see and smell nothing but the brown, leather sandals and soft, white feet and ankles of his mistress Kimi as he heard miss Sabine warn him to prepare for the first stroke as she stood behind him.
The first stroke!
How many did the girls end up giving him? That would be telling!
Suffice it to say that the following morning, when the doorbell rang and a crate was unexpectedly delivered with slave Jun trussed up inside it, slave Stephen was actually glad to be leaving the Asakawa household and returning to the showrooms of ‘Rent-A-Slave’ – even if he would be ‘out of service’ for a few days whilst the nasty wounds on his lower back healed!