Kidnapped by a Dominant Women to Become Her Submissive – Part 2
Kidnapped by a Dominant Women to Become Her Submissive – Part 2
The Job of a Foot Slave
“Very well,” she said. I do not know if you’re aware of it, but dominant women have very busy and tiring days. When we walk, our feet get warm in our shoes and eventually become very painful. One of your main tasks while in my service will be to take care of my feet. When I come home after work, I have cramps and I have perspired in my shoes, your role as a foot slave will be to clean my feet with your tongue. Then to massage them.
She leaned forward.
“Your work must be irreproachable and I will check it!”
She seemed to be waiting for an answer.
“Yes, Mistress,” I said, sheepishly.
She sat down on the sofa.
– I warn you, my feet smell very strong in nature.
She ordered me to take off her pumps. I executed this with great care and gentleness. Her feet were perfect, as if they had been carved by an artist.
Without waiting, she pointed her right foot towards me and placed her big toe on my forehead, her plantar arch facing my face.
-Respiring. Inhales-my smell!
The First Lesson
I obeyed and breathed in deeply, filling my lungs with the heavy, pungent smell of my Mistress’s feet. She put her two feet on my face, now my lips closed. They were hot and sweaty. As she said, they felt extremely strong.
For a long time, she amused herself by rubbing them on my face, taking pleasure in seeing me breathe with difficulty.
“Just for the moment, it will be painful,” she said. You’re just not used to it. But you are going to spend days under my feet, to suffocate, with your sole source of air from between my toes. You will learn this smell by heart, and even if at first you detest it, one day you will become addicted and you will beg me to let you sniff my feet like a slave dog and a good foot-slave. Finally, having said that, there is another place in my anatomy that you will be led to feel, but … We will come to that later.
After ten good minutes during which I did nothing but inhale, she spread her feet on my face.
-Lick them, slave!
I put my lips on her foot plants. It was warm and sweet. Not unpleasant at all.
I felt my cock harden a little more and stand up.
Not knowing how to lick her feet, I managed as best I could and kissed them more then I cleaned them with my tongue. She frowned and pushed me away.
-How incapable are you! I’ll have to think about a very intensive training. Come on, I’ll give you a second chance. Thank you.
– Thank you Mistress.
This time I applied myself as best I could. Indeed, Samantha had put her finger on the button of his bracelet and I knew that at the least of my errors, she would not hesitate to electrocute me. Then I began to lick greedily, swallowing her toes one by one and sucking them. It was salty.
My grimaces seemed to please her.
-Hummm … That’s a little better. But very perfectible.
Finally, she got tired of my licks after a good half hour.
-Ah, you still have a long way to go before you become a good foot slave. You’re too brutal. My feet are jewels you must cherish and polish, such as precious stones. You think you’ve done a good job?
– I … I do not know Mistress.
-Really ? Yet you must be able to evaluate yourself. How many lashes do you deserve for your performance?
At these words I froze in fear.
-Mistress, I did the best I could!
I dragged myself to his knees and nervously embraced my feet to make me forgive.
“Ah,” she sighed contentedly. That’s the right reaction. Lower yourself closer to the ground. To beg me. That is how you become a good slave for your Mistress.
As I covered her left foot with kisses, she put her right foot on my head and stroked me with the tips of her toes.
“Still,” she said, “I must punish you so that you can understand how important your work is. You must be serious when you are at my service. I asked a question: How many lashes do you deserve? If you give me a correct number, I will inflict a little less on you. But if you say the wrong number, you’ll get a lot more. So ?
-Uh … Well … Five?
She widened her eyes and went into a great uncontrolled laugh.
-Five ? She repeated. My poor little foot slave, you have so little idea of what is waiting for you. No, I thought rather a score of lashes. But since your estimate is ridiculously low, I’ll give you forty.
– Oh, pity, I beseech you, do not do that.
Then she got up and grabbed me by the collar before dragging me to the opposite corner of the room, a wall in the middle of which were two chains ending with metal bracelets. Samantha tied one to each wrist and backed away. I heard her rummaging in a cupboard, close by, and getting something out.
The sound of the leather sounded as the lash of the whip fell on the ground after she had shaken it once or twice in the air.
“Slave, this is your first punishment, but certainly not the last.” Suffering will be an integral part of your existence from now on. It’s something you’re going to live with. It’s fun, is it not? There are thousands of men who could have responded to this announcement but you did, and today you are tied to the wall of my dungeon and will receive forty lashes for Not having licked my feet properly. A bad blow of fate. In any case, nothing you can do or say will not change anything. You’re here and you’re gonna stay.
She slid the leather thong along my back. I began to tremble.
-The buttocks. You can cry and beg me to stop, I have nothing against it. Perhaps you will even be moved, who knows? Finally, you risk being whipped more by screaming, but it’s up to you.
The whip slammed for the first time on my back. So, a pink zebra appeared across my thighs. I shuddered and let out a cry.
The End of the Punishment
A second shot followed the first, then a third, and a fourth. At first I begged her to stop, then I began to grit my teeth and moan. Then she made sure to space each of her thirty blows. Sometimes she pretended to lift her whip to see me twisting in half in the hope of mitigating the force of the blow. So she savored that moment.
– You can’t even imagine how good it is, slave. To have a boy, tied to the wall, to whom one can do everything without regard for him.
Then another blow struck.
This ride lasted almost an hour. The whipping of the whip filled the room and I had stopped counting. I was no longer a man, just a wounded and exhausted animal, half-collapsed. She gasped as she struck.
Then she approached and put the lanyard around my cock. It had shrunk considerably during the punishment. While caressing him, she admired her work. My back, my buttocks and the top of my legs were covered with blows. A real artistic performance.
-Good. We can therefore start on new bases, foot slave.
-O … Yes Mistress.
To be continued.