|MISTRESS ERIKA'S FOOTSLAVE
This story is an original work of the author and is purely fiction, so any resemblance to any specific person or location is quite unintentional. But could this story really happen......certainly it could. Please contact the author at the given address below, before attempting any redistribution of this story. Feedback or comments regarding this story are always appreciated and welcome. Please submit comments to: firstname.lastname@example.org Content warning: This story contains: mind control / female dominance / hypnosis/strong sexual content.
What’s happened? I have such an awful headache. I strain to open my eyes but all I see is blackness. Something’s wrong. I can’t rub my eyes… I can’t move at all. I try to scream out but no words escape my mouth. My mouth is dry and my jaw aches. I feel that strange feeling as if I’m being watched. I feel a pull at my head.
“How are you doing this morning slave”? comes a female voice from the darkness. What was that she called me? Slave?
A bright light forces me to shut my eyes. I blink and strain to see as my vision slowly returns and I begin to focus on my surroundings. I am in a small bedroom on my stomach. As I struggle she tells me that the knots are tight and there is no escape. I try to ask what’s going on but no words escape my mouth. I hear the clicking of heels and then see her feet on the ground before my face. A pair of black stiletto heels, dark stockings, and her ankles. From the position on my stomach that’s as far as I can see. I see the rag next to me on the floor that must have been the blindfold I had on just a few seconds ago.
It was all starting to come back now. The brunette that I met at the bar… which must have been last night. She was drop dead gorgeous. I thought we hit it off great. One thing led to another and the next thing I knew we were back at her place for a night cap (and a few other things I figured). I remember her making the drinks. A few sips into my drink I started feeling faint. I remember getting dizzy and falling to the floor. Then I began to dream. As I was laying on the floor she slipped her foot out of her shoe and placed her stockinged toe into my mouth and whispered “sweet dreams slave”. I tried to move but my strength was fading away faster. I thought it was a nightmare, but apparently it was real.
I hear her walk around behind me and begin to untie my ankles. Once they are free she orders me to stand and begins to lead me down the hall to her bedroom. Once we enter her room, she pushes on the back of my legs and I fall to my knees at the foot of her bed. She begins attaching a device to my ankles and explains that it is called a spreader bar. “You will learn to love bondage my pet. Eventually you will only feel comfortable when I have complete and utter control over you. You will adore being helpless before me”. I try to speak as I again remember the gag. Once my ankles are fastened, she secures my hands (which are still bound behind my back) with a short cord to an eyelet in the middle of the spreader bar. She reaches behind my head and unties a strap and then pulls the gag from my mouth. The gag… those same black panties she had on last night is dropped to the floor behind me. I am ordered to remain quiet.
“Why are you doing this to me”?
“I told you not to speak slave. Or better yet… footslave. I have seen you in and out of the bars for the last several months. Always flirting with the ladies. Always the macho guy. You have a new girl every week. I’ve decided to teach you a little lesson”.
“But, this is kidnappi…. Mmphhh” I moan as a pair of obviously well worn stockings (from the crusty and vinegary taste) are shoved into my mouth. A strap is re-fastened behind my head to prevent me from spitting them out. A leash is then snapped to a collar around my neck and fastened to the foot of the bed.
She walks around to the bed and lays down. Her heels are inches from my face. “I have been at work all day. I was so glad to come home and find you unable to escape. It is my opinion that you need a little lesson in how to treat a lady. So I’ve taken it upon myself to train you personally. I’m going to relax for a while and you are going to smell my feet. Get used to them because you will be spending a lot of time at them.”
She kicked off her heels and placed the soles of her stockinged feet against my face. I screamed into the gag but not a sound came out. I struggled and pulled at the bonds but they held tight. The leash held my face absolutely still at the foot of her bed… and against her feet. I was forced to inhale. Her feet were hot and moist and had a very strong aroma. She cupped her toes over my nose and trapped me. My nose found its resting place in that little spot between her big and second toe right at the ball of he foot. The struggling increased my breathing and I began breathing harder. She stared down at me with a satisfied look that I wasn’t going anywhere.
“Now slave, I am going to watch a little TV and you are going to sit there on your knees where you belong and smell my sweaty stockinged feet. Enjoy what 9 hours in those high heels and stockings you men love so much do to a woman’s feet. You will learn to love the smell of my feet and one day soon it will become your only desire”.
The television then flipped on and she began to giggle at whatever she was watching and worse yet… totally ignoring me. She would occasionally switch from one foot to the other. She would allow me small breaks every so often to breathe fresh air only to replace her feet back on my face after a couple minutes had passed. I later learned this was so I didn’t get used to the smell of her feet. By breathing fresh air every once in a while, when her feet were replaced I was forced to endure getting used to the odor all over again. From the sounds of the TV show she was watching it was a long movie and I must have knelt there sniffing her feet for several hours. When the show went off she said it was bed time.
Finally I thought. Some kind of break. Some relaxation. But I couldn’t be so lucky. She hopped out of her bed and unfastened my leash. Then she pushed me onto my stomach in a sort of modified hogtied position. The spreader bar kept my ankles apart forming a base which wouldn’t allow me to roll onto my side. My hands were still tied behind my back and to the spreader bar. She pulled off her stockings and placed them into one of the high heels she had worn that day. Then she forced the shoe over my face and tied it in place. The last thing I heard as the lights went out was “sweet dreams slave”. So began my new life of humiliation as Mistress Erika’s footslave.
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Page Updated 10/26/07
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