This story is written by slave meat, please send comments and appreciation to custerstand@yahoo.com

The naked slave was squatting in the middle of the living room, up on tiptoe
as commanded by Mistress. All of the track lights were aimed at his sweat
glistening body while Mistress and four of her friends lounged about
comfortably on the couch and chairs encircling the slave. He squatted on
newspapers that had been spread on the floor. One of Mistress' high heels
was strapped atop his shaven slave skull by a leather cord that tied under
his chin. Being tightly tied, the shoe's heel-point was pressing cruelly
down into the center of the top of his naked head.

"Do you like the footslave's crown?" asked the Mistress of her friends. The
other Mistresses all laughingly approved. There would be the bruise of the
heel-mark atop his head for some days to come. The added advantage of
having the shoe bound to his head was that it keep his mouth shut, being
pulled taut beneath his chin. "Wank," said the Mistress to the slave in the
spotlights. He could barely make out the faces and bodies of the Mistresses
in the darkness beyond his illuminated floor show, the lights shining so
brightly down upon him, making him sweat and glisten so that all of his
straining muscles were artistically visible to the spectators. From his
arched, straining and pained toes to his ramrod back and taut buttocks to
his corded neck and powerful chest - all of him was on alert, attentive
display for the viewing pleasure of the smiling, chuckling Mistresses.

The slave took his hand which was covered with a sweaty, smelly gym sock of
Mistress' and with the covered hand he grasped his swollen penis and began
to stroke it. A small dog-dish had been placed between his feet, below his
penis to catch his drippings and eventual spurtings. Whatever missed the
dish would splatter on the newspapers.

"Slower," said the Mistress. "And do a squatting, duck-walk circle while
doing your wank so that the Mistresses behind you don't have to just look at
your whipped ass. Let them see you from all angles and see what a
stringless puppet I have made of you - all because you lust for the licking
of my toes and the smell of my soles." The Mistress laughed causing a chain
reaction in all of the other women - and they watched while the slave
awkwardly - but maintaining his erect posture and tiptoe sguat - made slow
circle upon circle before their studying eyes, all the while wanking his
cock with the stinky sock covered hand.

"Now faster," the Mistress ordered and the wanking quickened.

"He's dripping," commented one of the women.

"Yuk!" said another. "Gross!"

"Look - there is a string just hanging from the tip of his cock - like it's
drooling!"

"He's an animal," explained his Mistress, his owner. "He can't help himself
or his disgusting need."

"Will you let him go all the way and squirt?" asked another women, lounging
on the couch, dangling her shoe while watching the naked fool with the shoe
strapped to his head duckwalk in circles until he must have been dizzy.
Dizzy and drooling and dopey - and naked and breathing hard and sweating
profusely now - yes, a naked puppet putting on a show for the amusement of
his betters.

"I may make him squirt into his dish or I might make him let go of his cock
at the moment of the squirt so that his pleasure is diminished in that it
will be an untouched orgasm. That is fun to watch: cum spitting out of a
cock that bobs around with muscular contractions and the wicked torture of
its not being touched. Or...I might allow only one squirt - and make him
squeeze tight to withold a second contraction. It depends. Whatever amuses
me at the moment." She giggled. "Faster slave!" and she threw her other
high heel at him and it bounced off his chest, the heel scraping across his
pectoral. "You had best not have broken my high heel shoe, slave, or its an
upside down, hung-by-your-heels whipping for you, understand?"

The slave nodded and stroked himself faster and faster, all the while
walking in his spot on the crumpled newspapers, sweating rivers down his
torso and legs and down the crack of his ass, wetting the papers below, his
drooling cock wetting the papers below. "Look - he's got news-print on the
balls of his feet!"

"Yeah - maybe we can lay him down - hold a mirror up to his feet and read
the news story off of his shamed body."

"Stop wanking!" barked the Mistress and the slave withdrew his hand from his
thick, purple cock and and held his arms out at full length as he had been
trained to do. "Stop duck-walking in your circle of shame!" He froze,
statue-still. The room was silent and all that could be heard was his heavy
breathing and heartbeat.

"His balls look big and full of cream," someone commented from the easy
chair.

"Wank some more!" shouted Mistress and the slave's hand went back to his
penis. The big meat was being chaffed by the gym sock. "I bet you wish I
would take the sock off your hand and oil your dick up so that you could
have a nice, gliding wank, right? Well, slave, be glad I didn't put a sock
over your cock, too. But if I'd done that...we'd be here all night...and
your slave legs would grow tied, I'm sure. Anyway," she purred and then
shouted "Stick a finger in your ass!" The slave took his unsocked hand and
roughly pushed his index finger into his bunghole. "Deep! And finger fuck
yourself as you continue your circle - only now rotate counter-clockwise,
both on your tired and aching feet and rotate the finger in your ass counter
clockwise also, even as you finger fuck yourself."

The laughter in the room was now deafening.

"Now....while you are jerking you feet and digging in your ass for our
amusement, since you look so hot and sweaty and tired...we are going to cool
you off. Would slave like that? Of course you would, you dumb animal. Okay
girls....ready...aim...fire!" Suddenly Mistress and friends lifted their
until-now hidden piss-filled water pistols and began squirting at the slave.
Some had good aim and their hot shots of piss went right into his face, into
his opened mouth which Mistress had commanded. (In forcefully opening his
mouth, he pulled on the cord tied under his chin and thereby pulled the
point of the high-heel atop his head into his skull all the harder; it was a
wicked torture all in itself.) Others aimed their shots at his chest and
loved watching the yellow rivulets mix with his sweat. His body was now a
straining sheen of sweat and piss. He was naked, humiliated meat performing
for his Mistress and her friends. They kept shootin him with their piss
pistols. Some aimed for his wanking cock and dangling, bouncing balls.
"This is a riot!" "He is more fun than a barrel of monkeys!" "Where did
you ever find such a puppet!" One of the women stood and squirted down into
the shoe atop his head, filling it so that as he squat-walked in the
unending circle the piss bounced out of the shoe and ran down all sides of
his shaven head, into his ears, into his eyes, down his corded neck.

"See," said the Mistress as she aimed at his wide-stretched mouth, "we
squirt you while you get youself all hot and bothered and ready to squirt
for us! Isn't that marvelous?"

"He's drooling lots of cock snot now!"

"He must be close!"

His balls were bouncing more frenetically now. His sock-covered fist was a
blur. His cock was as hard as a crowbar.

"I can see his heart beating against his breastbone!"

"Do your toes hurt?" cooed the Mistress. "Well, it is only right and
proper: yours should ache and mine must always be soothed by your slave's
tongue and mouth."

"Make him do it in the bowl and then he can lick it off your toes," someone
suggested as her piss blasted into his ear. "Wow - I just shot him in the
ear. Wonder if it will come out the other side!"

"When you complete a circle and the bowl is between your legs, slave, freeze
and keep wanking. You will only spend into the bowl," said the Mistress.

"Can I whip him as he cums?" one of her friends asked.

"Yes. Stand behind him and beat his back hard while he experiences his
little moment of pleasure. We don't want it too pleasurable for the slave,
do we?"

The whip-Mistress walked behind the squatting beast in her barefeet and
began laying the whip across his back and shoulders. The sweat and piss on
his body made the whip sting all the more. "Yech, my feet are getting
newsprint on them, too, from standing on the pissy papers."

"Don't worry," Mistress assured her. "Slave can lick your dirty feet clean
after he does his dirty deed. Faster!!! Whip him faster and wank faster
and finger-fuck your asshole into a frenzy! Make us all laugh, you clown
with a shoe on your dumb head!"

The slave was shaking and trembling on his toes as the whip kept crashing
into his back, striping him cruelly. The heel on his skull dug deeper as
the leather thong that kept it tied there shrank under the heat of the track
lights and the female piss and his sweat. A thin stream of blood ran from
beneath the high heel and down the side of his face and this caused those
who noticed it to laugh all the more. His cock was drooling, his mouth was
drooling saliva and the piss that had flooded it throughout the cruel target
practice. "Just like a beast....drooling and huffing and puffing.....a dumb
oxen under the plow of our power," someone said as the whip continued to
work his hide.

He was ready, his cock about to explode, the cum about to burst forth - when
suddenly Mistress shouted "Stop wanking!" The slave dutifully extended his
arms full length. The whip continued its vicious work - and while all eyes
watched, the cock began its cum-dance, alone. It bobbed and heaved and
jerked about as big globs of white gunk bubbled from its tips and dripped
down with audible splats into his bowl. It seemed to never stop jerking
about and spitting its stuff while the women all applauded and whistled and
clapped. One last drip, and the cock was finished. The slave maintained
his undignified posture. "Bravo, slave, bravo - and all on film! Now, "
said the Mistress to the woman behind him who had stopped beating him after
he had cum. "Now - what about your pissy, print-streaked feet. I know of a
good cleaning agent. Slave - take your cum bowl over to your whip-mistress,
set it before her, dip your tongue into your cum and clean her feet of all
that newsprint and piss while you thank her for beating you while you were
beating yourself off for our enertainment."

The slave did as ordered.

"He looks like a dunce with the shoe on top of his shaven skull," was one
comment he heard as he dipped his tongue into his own slime and began to
lick the dirty toes thrust before him.

"He does whatever I want," said the Mistress with a smile. "He has to. He
could not live without me."

The slave licked the toes of all the women throughout the night while they
squirted what was left in their piss-pistols onto his whip-streaked back,
stinging him. He whimpered while they giggled. This was Nature. This was
the way of the World. Womankind ruled. Men crawled. He was...a footslave.

This story is written by slave meat, please send comments and appreciation to custerstand@yahoo.com