aussiefootslave
02-26-2003, 10:38 PM
Sorry it took awhile but I lost over ten pages that i had typed so have to re do it.....more to come enjoy....
A Foot slave forever part 5.
Brigitte sat on the top step of the porch while Becky bent down and untied my wrists. They had red grooves in them and new pain arrived as the blood came back to my aching hands.
Becky sat beside her sister and ordered, “Get up on your knees slave; you’re not a cow anymore.”
“Yes,” said Brigitte, “by our supreme blessing, we have changed you from a cow into a slave boy; thank us slave boy.”
I rose to my knees, although the rope around my neck wouldn’t let me rise completely, and thanked them, “Thank you Mistresses Brigitte and Becky for making me a slave boy.” My knees burnt from the weight of my kneeling body and the biting gravel.
Brigitte smiled down at me and said, “Now you will clean our feet; we got them dirty chasing you around the yard; take off my shoes,” and she extended her right foot towards me.
I slid off her brown penny loafer and looked at her dirty foot. It was filthy with sweat and dirt. I could see black jams between her toes. She raised her other shoe to my hands and I released her first foot and removed her second shoe. This foot was also grimy and smelled bad.
“How shall I clean your feet Mistress Brigitte?” I asked, hoping she would provide a hose or towel.
“With your lips and tongue slave” and she thrust her filthy foot into my face.
I sobbed and began to lick the grime from her toes. My tongue licked the black jams from between each pair of toes and I swallowed them. I licked her instep and up to and around her ankle. I lifted her foot and with her toes pressed to my forehead, I began licking her heel. I ran my tongue up the bottom of her grimy foot from her heel to her toes, swallowed, and did it again and again. I licked the bottom of each of her toes and swallowed every spec of dirt. Her foot was clean and moist with my saliva.
“Good job foot slave; now bow your head so that I can wipe my foot dry on your hair,” she ordered.
I lowered my head and she dried her foot in my hair. She then re-crossed her legs and presented the other filthy foot to my waiting tongue.
Again, I licked and cleaned every inch of her foot with my trembling tongue. I swallowed more dirt than I had in my entire life just from her feet. I came close to gagging thinking about all the toe jams that I obediently swallowed for her. She again wiped her foot dry in my hair and then ordered me to put her shoes back on for her.
As I did, Becky reached behind and pulled out a camera. She handed it to Brigitte and said, “Now it’s my turn foot face; first clean your mouth out” and she handed me a bowl of water. I stuck my face in the bowl and rinsed my mouth. When I lifted my head, she had crossed her legs and her sneaker was in my face.
I untied her sneaker and pulled it off her sweaty foot. Feet which have been sweating in sneakers carry a strong aroma and I cringed at the smell of her foot. She laughed and pushed her foot into my nose and mouth, “Smell good slave? Wait until you taste it.”
And taste it I did. I sucked each of her sweaty, dirty toes individually and all together. They tasted wonderful. I couldn’t believe that I was liking this, but I was. Brigitte took several pictures of Becky’s toes in my mouth and my lips and tongue on her feet.
She slid toes in and out of my mouth and seemed to love the feeling of total, or should I say, toe-tal, power she had over me. I gratefully licked the bottoms of her feet. I swallowed sweat, grime and more toe jams. My little dick was hard as a rock and she played with it with one foot while I licked her other foot. Finally, she dried her feet in my hair and made me put her shoes back on for her. I was trembling as I knelt before these two young Goddesses.
“Well, it’s been a fun afternoon,” said Brigitte, “We must do this again; you owe us the $10 we paid to Janice to buy you for the afternoon; we don’t pay to own you; you pay us for owning you and allowing you to lick our feet; we want the money soon slave!”
“Yes Mistress Brigitte,” I answered. I knew I could expect nothing but pain and humiliation from these girls and I had readily accepted my fate. In fact, I had learned to look forward to their use and abuse of me. Praise be to all superior females.
Becky untied the rope around my neck and told me to untie my own ankles and get dressed. I obeyed and the dirt on my body itched as I put my clothes back on. My face and hair were dirty and smelled like feet. After dressing, I knelt before the girls.
Brigitte reached behind her and pulled out a notebook and a pen and handed it down to me. She said, “I want you to write what I tell you to write and then you will sign it; Becky and I will be witnesses; do you understand slave boy?”
I told her that I understood and I wrote what she told me. This is what I wrote under the direction of Brigitte and Becky Katzen:
All girls are superior to me.
I am a slave to all girls.
I am a slave boy.
I am a slave to Mistress Brigitte Katzen and Mistress Becky Katzen.
I promise to obey my Mistresses for all the rest of my life.
I promise to serve my Mistresses for all the rest of my life.
I promise to amuse my Mistresses for all the rest of my life.
I promise to kiss the feet of any girl who commands me.
If I should break any of these promises I hereby authorize Mistress Brigitte and Mistress Becky Katzen to punish me in any and all ways that they wish.
I humbly thank Mistress Brigitte and Mistress Becky for allowing me to be their slave.
I humbly thank all girls for letting me be their slave boy.
I signed it and they both signed as witnesses and dated it.
They now had a signed admission of slavery as well as several polaroids. They owned me just as Patty and Janice did. Of course, all girls owned me. Not just them; not just their friends Roberta, Maureen, and Candy; all girls owned me.
“Let’s take him back; it’s a quarter to four already,” said Becky. The two girls led me back to Janice’s house. They didn’t use the rope this time but I had to walk behind them the whole way. About half way there, Becky had the idea of making me chant the rest of the way so I did. I followed and kept repeating, out loud, “I am your humble slave boy, supreme Mistress Becky; I am your humble slave boy supreme Mistress Brigitte” all the way home. No one passed to hear my chant. That would have been pretty embarrassing, but I had already been so embarrassed by all these girls that it might not have made any difference.
When we came in the yard, Janice was waiting and had Roberta with her. Brigitte and Becky led me right up to the other two girls and Becky turned and slapped my face. “You can shut up now slave boy,” she said. I just stood there and with my head bowed and my hands at my side; my cheek hurt from her cruel slap.
“Was he obedient?” asked Janice and both girls answered “Yes.” They said I had been a good steer and a good foot licker.
Janice looked at me and said, “You’re filthy boy; Mistress Roberta might not want to buy such a filthy slave.”
Roberta walked over to me and smiled as she grabbed my chin in her hand and tilted my head up to look at her. Her eyes looked right into my soul. She didn’t say a word; she just stared at me. I grew frightened and averted my eyes. She laughed and slapped me hard on the other cheek.
Janice walked up to me and put her hand in my pants; not all the way in, just her fingers over the edge. “Roberta has paid $5 and wants you to serve her in school for one day. She’ll pick the day and let you know the night before. You will be her slave that day and you will do everything she tells you to do; do you understand slave?”
I answered, “Yes Mistress Janice.”
Roberta just smiled and looked me up and down. “I’ll call you Larry and let you know what day you will serve me and what you should wear” and she laughed.
Janice released my pants and told me to go inside and clean myself up before supper. As I walked up the stairs to enter the house, Roberta slapped me hard on the butt and both girls laughed. I went inside still wondering what Roberta had meant by telling what I should wear.
...to be continued....
A Foot slave forever part 5.
Brigitte sat on the top step of the porch while Becky bent down and untied my wrists. They had red grooves in them and new pain arrived as the blood came back to my aching hands.
Becky sat beside her sister and ordered, “Get up on your knees slave; you’re not a cow anymore.”
“Yes,” said Brigitte, “by our supreme blessing, we have changed you from a cow into a slave boy; thank us slave boy.”
I rose to my knees, although the rope around my neck wouldn’t let me rise completely, and thanked them, “Thank you Mistresses Brigitte and Becky for making me a slave boy.” My knees burnt from the weight of my kneeling body and the biting gravel.
Brigitte smiled down at me and said, “Now you will clean our feet; we got them dirty chasing you around the yard; take off my shoes,” and she extended her right foot towards me.
I slid off her brown penny loafer and looked at her dirty foot. It was filthy with sweat and dirt. I could see black jams between her toes. She raised her other shoe to my hands and I released her first foot and removed her second shoe. This foot was also grimy and smelled bad.
“How shall I clean your feet Mistress Brigitte?” I asked, hoping she would provide a hose or towel.
“With your lips and tongue slave” and she thrust her filthy foot into my face.
I sobbed and began to lick the grime from her toes. My tongue licked the black jams from between each pair of toes and I swallowed them. I licked her instep and up to and around her ankle. I lifted her foot and with her toes pressed to my forehead, I began licking her heel. I ran my tongue up the bottom of her grimy foot from her heel to her toes, swallowed, and did it again and again. I licked the bottom of each of her toes and swallowed every spec of dirt. Her foot was clean and moist with my saliva.
“Good job foot slave; now bow your head so that I can wipe my foot dry on your hair,” she ordered.
I lowered my head and she dried her foot in my hair. She then re-crossed her legs and presented the other filthy foot to my waiting tongue.
Again, I licked and cleaned every inch of her foot with my trembling tongue. I swallowed more dirt than I had in my entire life just from her feet. I came close to gagging thinking about all the toe jams that I obediently swallowed for her. She again wiped her foot dry in my hair and then ordered me to put her shoes back on for her.
As I did, Becky reached behind and pulled out a camera. She handed it to Brigitte and said, “Now it’s my turn foot face; first clean your mouth out” and she handed me a bowl of water. I stuck my face in the bowl and rinsed my mouth. When I lifted my head, she had crossed her legs and her sneaker was in my face.
I untied her sneaker and pulled it off her sweaty foot. Feet which have been sweating in sneakers carry a strong aroma and I cringed at the smell of her foot. She laughed and pushed her foot into my nose and mouth, “Smell good slave? Wait until you taste it.”
And taste it I did. I sucked each of her sweaty, dirty toes individually and all together. They tasted wonderful. I couldn’t believe that I was liking this, but I was. Brigitte took several pictures of Becky’s toes in my mouth and my lips and tongue on her feet.
She slid toes in and out of my mouth and seemed to love the feeling of total, or should I say, toe-tal, power she had over me. I gratefully licked the bottoms of her feet. I swallowed sweat, grime and more toe jams. My little dick was hard as a rock and she played with it with one foot while I licked her other foot. Finally, she dried her feet in my hair and made me put her shoes back on for her. I was trembling as I knelt before these two young Goddesses.
“Well, it’s been a fun afternoon,” said Brigitte, “We must do this again; you owe us the $10 we paid to Janice to buy you for the afternoon; we don’t pay to own you; you pay us for owning you and allowing you to lick our feet; we want the money soon slave!”
“Yes Mistress Brigitte,” I answered. I knew I could expect nothing but pain and humiliation from these girls and I had readily accepted my fate. In fact, I had learned to look forward to their use and abuse of me. Praise be to all superior females.
Becky untied the rope around my neck and told me to untie my own ankles and get dressed. I obeyed and the dirt on my body itched as I put my clothes back on. My face and hair were dirty and smelled like feet. After dressing, I knelt before the girls.
Brigitte reached behind her and pulled out a notebook and a pen and handed it down to me. She said, “I want you to write what I tell you to write and then you will sign it; Becky and I will be witnesses; do you understand slave boy?”
I told her that I understood and I wrote what she told me. This is what I wrote under the direction of Brigitte and Becky Katzen:
All girls are superior to me.
I am a slave to all girls.
I am a slave boy.
I am a slave to Mistress Brigitte Katzen and Mistress Becky Katzen.
I promise to obey my Mistresses for all the rest of my life.
I promise to serve my Mistresses for all the rest of my life.
I promise to amuse my Mistresses for all the rest of my life.
I promise to kiss the feet of any girl who commands me.
If I should break any of these promises I hereby authorize Mistress Brigitte and Mistress Becky Katzen to punish me in any and all ways that they wish.
I humbly thank Mistress Brigitte and Mistress Becky for allowing me to be their slave.
I humbly thank all girls for letting me be their slave boy.
I signed it and they both signed as witnesses and dated it.
They now had a signed admission of slavery as well as several polaroids. They owned me just as Patty and Janice did. Of course, all girls owned me. Not just them; not just their friends Roberta, Maureen, and Candy; all girls owned me.
“Let’s take him back; it’s a quarter to four already,” said Becky. The two girls led me back to Janice’s house. They didn’t use the rope this time but I had to walk behind them the whole way. About half way there, Becky had the idea of making me chant the rest of the way so I did. I followed and kept repeating, out loud, “I am your humble slave boy, supreme Mistress Becky; I am your humble slave boy supreme Mistress Brigitte” all the way home. No one passed to hear my chant. That would have been pretty embarrassing, but I had already been so embarrassed by all these girls that it might not have made any difference.
When we came in the yard, Janice was waiting and had Roberta with her. Brigitte and Becky led me right up to the other two girls and Becky turned and slapped my face. “You can shut up now slave boy,” she said. I just stood there and with my head bowed and my hands at my side; my cheek hurt from her cruel slap.
“Was he obedient?” asked Janice and both girls answered “Yes.” They said I had been a good steer and a good foot licker.
Janice looked at me and said, “You’re filthy boy; Mistress Roberta might not want to buy such a filthy slave.”
Roberta walked over to me and smiled as she grabbed my chin in her hand and tilted my head up to look at her. Her eyes looked right into my soul. She didn’t say a word; she just stared at me. I grew frightened and averted my eyes. She laughed and slapped me hard on the other cheek.
Janice walked up to me and put her hand in my pants; not all the way in, just her fingers over the edge. “Roberta has paid $5 and wants you to serve her in school for one day. She’ll pick the day and let you know the night before. You will be her slave that day and you will do everything she tells you to do; do you understand slave?”
I answered, “Yes Mistress Janice.”
Roberta just smiled and looked me up and down. “I’ll call you Larry and let you know what day you will serve me and what you should wear” and she laughed.
Janice released my pants and told me to go inside and clean myself up before supper. As I walked up the stairs to enter the house, Roberta slapped me hard on the butt and both girls laughed. I went inside still wondering what Roberta had meant by telling what I should wear.
...to be continued....