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Servant of ServantsServant of Servantsby [email protected] (Francis R.)I nervously climbed the stairs and searched in dirty corridors smellingof refuse before I found the apartment. For my heartbeat to steady, Ipaused briefly before knocking, and noticed the television set playinginside. Some seconds later the door was opened by Sabrina, to whom I hadcome to offer myself as a slave.She was carelessly dressed in cheap worn-out clothes, a knitted plaidcovering her shoulders; she was eating a sandwich and, chewing, lookedat me for a few seconds, then asked me what I wanted, expressing disgustand boredom.I candidly answered that I had been told she might accept me as herslave. She swallowed, took another bite and, again chewing, grunted andindicated that I could follow her inside. She opened the toilet door andpushed me in, telling me to take off all my clothes and wait.She locked me in and I took off my clothes and squatted on the cold,tiled floor. I considered masturbating while kissing the toilet seat, tohave some anticipated, indirect contact with my future mistress, but Iunderstood how I would be punished if caught in such an act on the veryfirst evening of my bondage, and so I only experienced the psychologicalsatisfaction of feeling my penis hard with excitement between my legs.I spent quite some time waiting idly for my new mistress: she watchedthe television show I had so boldly interrupted. Then she came to thetoilet, opened it and walked a few steps towards the living room, where,slapping her thigh as if calling a dog, she told me to follow her, and Iobeyed, crawling on all fours behind her, into her tiny living room,which was decorated with damp wallpaper and furniture fit for therubbish heap.She sat down in a chair, crossed her legs and ordered me to kneelbefore her; she excelled at commanding, stating her wishes with suchenergy that she could make mere words be as effective as a sharp blow ofher clenched fist on a servant’s genitals – which is no gratuitousmetaphor: during my brief subsequent servitude I had the opportunity tocompare both and verify its literal truth.I was ordered to look up into her eyes, which expressed superiority,while my head remained at a few inches from the sole of her sandal; Iadmired her heavy breasts and her strong arms, which she held crossedunder them, naked to the elbow; her muscles clearly betrayed that sheperformed manual labour regularly.Looking down on me, she asked me for my name, address, job, earningsetc. in minute detail; my answers had to be polite, complete, conciseand clear, lest her shod foot would strike out over the few inchesseparating it from my head, and throw me down on the dirty carpet, onlyfor me to resume my position until the next kick.Satisfied with my answers, she asked me whether I was sure of what Iwas doing and I bent down before her while answering “yes”, very closeto the insteps of her feet; she repeated her question and, looking ather strong feet and painted toe-nails, I confirmed; she placed her rightfoot on my neck, the heel of its sandal touching my head. Thusannihilated under her foot, I felt delicious sexual excitement andpressed my erect penis to the floor.Sentence by sentence, she dictated the oath I had to swear, in which Ipledged my total obedience and submission to my mistress, whoever shemight be in the future, and gave her unconditionally all rights: to useme, to sell me and to wound, maim or kill me, or to let someone else dothese to me; I would accept that canlı bahis my Owners use me as an object.When I had sworn this by Almighty God, she pulled away her foot and,seeing me remain prostrate before her, she said I was now allowed tokiss her foot once, so I pressed my lips to the tip of her right foot,the one which had crushed me, and kissed it along with the leather ofher sandal, picking up a trace of cheap perfumed soap.She pulled back her foot and explained that to kiss her feet was agreat reward I would have to deserve, since she personally quitedisliked the feeling; this prohibition extended to the soles of her feetand, more surprisingly, to the inner and outer soles of her sandals andshoes.Then she told me that her evening job was to clean offices in acertain building, and fixed our next appointment there, just before herworking hours. In the toilet, she picked up my clothes and threw themout, and I followed them; while I dressed silently in the corridor, sheforbade me to climax until the next meeting, and told me she would haveme castrated if I disobeyed.* * *Although I intended to obey her, I climaxed repeatedly in my sleep (orat least that’s my story), so, on the day of the appointment, I feltquite worried in the lift as I went up to the floor where Sabrina wouldmeet me.The door opened and she was standing there, waiting for me, nowwearing a green apron and holding a black leather whip. Taking the whipin her right hand, she pointed it towards her feet, and I obeyed her inkneeling down just before her, but dared not press a kiss to the tips ofher sandals.She asked why I was still dressed and, when I wanted to answer, threwthe whip on my back and told me to keep quiet; the blow did not hurt me,for I was still protected by my clothes. She then ordered me to takethem all off and I obeyed, rapidly taking off my jacket, tie, shirt,shoes, socks etc.When I was almost naked another woman came in, Rita, a buxom brunette,also dressed in the regulation green apron, but I noticed she wore brownstockings and green sneakers. I hesitated, looking at Rita, but mymistress, turning back, saw her friend and told me I would serve her asa second mistress.I took off my slip and tried to hide my nakedness a little, butSabrina said there would be no impropriety for me to be naked andreceive punishment in the presence of Rita; she then threw the lashrepeatedly on my back – the strokes were very painful now, but Ireceived them silently, prostrate at her feet.She told me that my normal greeting of her at the beginning of my workwould henceforth be to kiss her knees (under no circumstance her feet!),and I had to do so at once, pressing my lips to her kneecaps, withsilent delight, touching her thighs with the tips of my fingers when myhands slid up under her apron.After a few kisses she stopped me, making the word sound as a strokeof the whip. I lay naked and vulnerable before her when she asked mewhether I had obeyed her and abstained from climaxing? She added to thisthat my punishment would be castration if I had disobeyed, but that italso certainly would be castration were I to lie.Bending before her and apprehensively squeezing my penis between mylegs, I admitted guilt. She walked around me, to see me from behind, andordered me to open my legs: I knew that she was about to punish me, butnevertheless obeyed. She then kicked my testicles half a dozen times,hitting them with the tip of her right sandal, ignoring my cries ofpain; then she announced that bahis siteleri my actual punishment would be postponed,but that I really should obey her totally, even in her absence.I was then set to work, performing the ladies’ cleaning task on thewhole floor assigned to them. This was to become the core element of mybondage to Sabrina and Rita: they simply had me to all their work, and Iwas very happy to comply.During the work, they ignored me most of the time, but every now andthen Rita would approach silently to inspect, and if I displeased hershe would suddenly throw the whip on my back to punish my shortcomings.The women ordinarily chatted and gossiped together, so that I had tolisten carefully during work to notice if my Mistress Sabrina clappedher hands once, thereby calling me to perform some menial task for herand Rita, like pouring out coffee or clearing the table.Small mistakes in their personal service were punished by loud slapsto my face, whereas mistakes in the cleaning were punished using thewhip: I then had to kneel at the feet of the lady who wanted to see mepunished and I could look at them while the other lady would whip me. Atthe end of these punishments, Rita always allowed me to kiss the tips ofher shoes.When I have completed the chores, the women come to inspect my work;they take me along with them and look at the different rooms I had toclean, at the toilets and the cleaning tools. They carry out thisinspection barefoot, carrying their sandals so as not to leave any markson the clean floor. I must lick clean all neglected, dirty spots theyfind, before being whipped on site for my carelessness.Back at the lift, I kneel at the ladies’ feet to wash them beforehelping them put back on their shoes; I must use what is available: coldwater and detergent soap. With Rita, I must take great care to dry herstockings too; the pleasure I feel when holding my ladies’ feet andmaking myself useful to them far exceeds the pain of the corrections andthe discomfort of the work. When my ladies’ feet are clean, they put ontheir coats and leave. I can then also dress and take the next liftdown.* * *At the end of the week, when the evening work was done, my Mistressesbriefly discussed what to do with me during the week-end; while I washedher feet, Rita recalled the ancient truth that a man alone is in badcompany, so the ladies decided to toss a coin in order to determine whoof them would take me along to her place until next Monday evening. Ritawon (or maybe lost, from her viewpoint): I would stay with her.Next, I crawled to Sabrina to wash her feet, too, regretting that shenever let me kiss them; with marked irony, she told Rita: “Since you’llhave the privilege of his presence, I’ll just take this in compensation”and picked my credit card from my jacket.”Boy!” she called me to attention, heavily pressing the sole of herfoot on my neck, increasing my erection even further – “How muchimmediate credit does it have?””$6000, Mistress.””That’ll do.” I could hear her smile through her voice. “What’s thecode?” She increased the weight on my neck to ensure a speedy answer.”Thirty-five twenty, Mistress.””You IDIOT!” – and she slapped the lash over the pink traces she hadinflicted earlier, when Rita had found a stray cigarette end in asupposedly cleaned corridor – “Couldn’t you have changed that tosomething easier to remember?” I remained silent: there was no reasoningagainst the charge.”Thirty-five twenty” Sabrina repeated to herself, while Rita güvenilir bahis had mestand up before her, still naked, untied her belt and slipped it aroundmy neck, to use it as a rudimentary lead.”Thirty-five twenty” Sabrina repeated, leaving, and Rita had me takemy clothes along with me; we took the following lift down to theunderground parking and, while I was afraid that someone might stop thelift on its way down and see us, Rita just carelessly took hold of mytesticles and squeezed them a little.In the parking, she took me to her car and had me put my clothes inthe boot, then told me to get in there too, and I had to curl up as wellas possible, wedging myself between my clothes and sundry old rags andmechanic tools and the spare tyre before she could close the boot.She was in no hurry, knowing that I was safely locked up; I heard herswitch on the radio and she probably smoked a cigarette before evenstarting the car. Then she drove away, quite slowly, maybe because shethought I might be hurt by the disparate rubbish I shared the boot with;in the meantime, I recalled how my Mistresses had bossed me around and Islowly masturbated thinking of them, especially of Rita, who wascertainly the most attractive in her unsophisticated bounciness; then Iwiped off the semen with one of the rags.Finally, we arrived at our destination, and she got out of the car tolet me out of the boot; we were in another underground parking lot, andshe had me follow her up to her apartment, which, I found out later, wassituated in a council estate building neighbouring Sabrina’s.Still being pulled by the improvised lead, still naked and holding myrolled-up clothes, I was led into her apartment, where she untied myneck and resolutely grabbed my penis to pull me behind her into herbedroom.There, she turned to me, pushing her large breasts against me, andlooked me in the eyes; she placed her hands on my shoulders, as shorterwomen do when they want to be kissed, but pressed them down a little,indicating that I should kneel down. When my head was at the height ofher navel, she placed her hands on me and again slightly pushed me, so Iwent further down, all the way to her knees and her ankles, and then sheplaced her shod right foot on my head and pushed it completely to thefloor: “That’s your place, boy, never forget it!”Then she let me untie her shoe-laces and take off her shoes; Idelighted in handling her elegant little stockinged feet, andspontaneously pressed my lips to their insteps while supporting theirsoles, but she soon kicked me away and added two firm kicks to mygenitals in order to calm me down, which worked.Then she directed me to her wardrobe where I had to fetch some partyclothes for her: stiletto-heeled patent leather mules and an assortedmicro-skirt and skimpy top. Next, I helped her in taking off herstockings and working clothes and putting on the new items; she sat downbefore a mirror and had me brush her hair while she selected cheap,plastic jewels that might gain splendour under erratic lighting, and puton excessive make-up.Before leaving on her clicking stiletto heels, she guided me into theliving-room and, holding my testicles, instructed me to clean her smallapartment; as a reward, I would be allowed to polish her collection ofboots afterwards – “But not before EVERYTHING’s clean!” she added,tugging at my scrotum.Those were easy orders to obey – one need not be a quantum physicistto vacuum carpets properly – and two hours later I could sit down on thebedroom floor, naked, and start a minute polishing of my Mistress’ bootcollection, none of which was actually in need of treatment, but Ienjoyed imagining Rita wearing them, and myself imploring her, prostrateat her feet.
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