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

Presentation of the Footslave
by slave meat


The slave was bowed naked before his Mistress' chair, forehead pressed to
carpet, knees spread wide so that his balls dangled shamelessly, arms
extended before him, palms up and open. The Mistress was resting her legs
and barefeet on the whip-striped back of the slave. The sweat from the
soles of her recently unbooted feet stung some of the areas on his hide
where the whip left its more vicious marks. The Mistress described to the
grovelling, posture-collared naked man what she had in mind for him:

"Slave, I am having a party tomorrow night. I've decided to make you the
centerpiece of the party, as a decoration. You'll be noticed by my fellow
Mistresses...but mostly you will be ignored. Since you are a footslave I
will use a footstool as your perch. You will be set atop it, squatting,
naked and completely oiled so that your body shines and all of your
straining muscles are more visible to the spectactors. You'll be my work of
slave-art. Your arms will be extended fully and in each hand you will be
holding a heavy boot. You will hold these boots at arm's length for the
entire duration of the party. The party starts at 7:00 and may go til dawn.
Now...to continue...I will write your name across your shaved skull in
lipstick. It will read 'Footslave' on the crown of your naked head and
'Footsniffer' scrawled across your forehead. Your nose will be stuffed with
my sweatiest anklets: I have been keeping a rank pair in a zip-loc bag for
weeks now. I will use a pencil to push the anklets deep up into your slave
nostrils so that all you will breath throughout the party is the smell of my
feet. The toe-ends of the anklets will be shoved up your nose first, pushed
deep in with the pencil so that they are practically near your brain.
Toe-scent on the brain! The anklet ends will dangle from your toes a bit
making you look all the more ridiculous. But so what, right? These are the
indignities your slavery to my feet warrants. It is your own fault!
Anyway, to proceed with how I shall prepare you: squatting on a stool,
aching arms extended with a boot in each hand, anklets shoved up your nose,
your titles written in lipstick on your head........Next I shall place a
small wooded sign around your neck. It reads: 'I live to lick toes.' The
rope that will hold this sign will be coarse and irritating to your neck.
So what, right? There will be a larger wooden sign that will hang from this
same rope and cover part of your back and it will read: 'Foot-pig's
backside: fresh whipped.' Your balls will be separately, severely tied and
four shoes and sneakers will be tied to dangle from each bound testicle.
The pain of this weight will increase over time. From time-to-time, the
Mistresses are free to kick the shoe-bundles and set them swinging so that
your spread, separated testicles experience the agony of your footslavery
all the more. Oh - you will be made to squat on tiptoe, feet arched high.
But should you relax and try to squat flat-footed on your stool of shame,
you will regret doing so. A thumbtack will be placed below the sole of each
up-arched foot. Aren't I wicked? Your nipples will likewise be clamped and
chained - and from each nipple I will hang a few high heel shoes. Speaking
of high heel shoes - one will be shoved up your rectum, heel first, and must
be held there for the duration of the party. You will have to clutch it by
tightening your oiled ass cheeks. It will be hard to maintain such a
muscular squeeze - but so what, right slave? Now - back to your slave-head:
your earlobes will be harshly clamped and shoes will decorate and hang from
your ears like earrings. Your mouth will be stuffed to capacity with socks
and nylons and anklets, stuffed so full that your cheeks will bulge and you
will look like a squirrel. Oh, the socks will be piss-soaked, by-the-way,
so that you have something to drink during your torment. Aren't I wicked? I
don't know how you put up with me: all just because you live to sniff and
lick my toes! What a mindless thing I have made you, slave. Anyway - have
I forgotten anything? Oh yes, you will be blind-folded by a pair of smelly
panty-hose. What else? Mmmm....Of course! Your slave-cock! You must
maintain an erection for the entire time of the party. Full hardon! Your
cock and balls will be wearing one of my high-heels. Your cock and balls
will be stuffed into the shoe - and therefore you must maintain an erection
because if you do not, the shoe will fall to the floor between your
squatting legs and then I will have to truly punish you. So - for the
entire party you will stay still, remain in a thigh-wide squat, keep your
arms stiff and strong, your buttocks tightly clenched, not move an oiled
muscle - and be an ornament, an artistic creation for me to share with my
fellow Mistresses. Nothing more! I am sure they will admire my creativitiy!
By-the-way, slave, not only will shoes be dangling from your clipped
ears...but the heel of a high-heel shoe will be stuck into each ear and the
shoes will hang from your inner ears as well, muffling the sounds of my
friends' laughter and comments. You will be in your own world of being a
footslave on exhibit! Here comes the good part, the reward if you maintain
your posture and remain statue-still throughout your shameful ordeal: if
you do not displease me.....at the end of the party, when the Mistresses are
ready to leave and call it a night....I will remove the shoe from your cock
and balls and while you still maintain your pose, I will hurriedly wank you
off into the shoe your cock has been wearing all night long! Sound good,
slave? I will give you one - no, two - two minutes to spew your filhy cream
right into the shoe. If you don't do so in two minutes, you will have
disgraced me and of course be beaten and tortured. However, if you spurt
out a nice load for the amusement of my watching guests and get it all in
the shoe....I will then use my tongs to take all of the socks and nylons out
of your slave mouth...and you can then lick the shoe clean. This will be
the literal 'climax' of the party! Aren't I fun to be around, slave?
Don't I make your life unbearably thrilling? And all just because you are
enslaved by....feet!!!! Poor slave. Poor, poor, tortured foot slave.
Roll over - NOW!"

The slave swiftly rolled over onto his whipped back as the Mistress lowered
her feet onto his face. Sure enough, his cock was throbbing wildly and
waving about, precum seeping from its slit. Her words had had the desired
effect. The big throbbing tool at her feet - and the big swollen balls
beneath it - told her quite vividly that footslave would make a wonderful
presentation at tomorrow's decadent party. She had a desire to see the
maddened slave jerk himself off now while her feet rested on his face and
her toes probed his mouth: but no, she would need that big cock for
tomorrow's party. He had to keep it hard for the whole party! So - he
would simply have to suffer blue balls tonight and all day tomorrow so that
he would be able to stay erect for her amusement tomorrow night. Such was
the life of a slave and the suffering of the slave-cock. The Mistress
laughed and reached out with her crop, just to tap and prod the big thing
for awhile. She liked to watch it throb and quiver and remain on the brink
of cumming...and then allow it to remain frustrated and go no further. She
laughed and poked and prodded while her feet were comforted on the slave's
face. "Do you want to be part of my party, slave?"

"Yeth," he replied, his answer muffled because his stretched mouth was now
full of her fragrant toes.

"Good footslave," she said with a harsh smack of the crop on his bobbing,
veiny tool. "Would you like to cum?"

"Yeth," the slave answered as she shoved her left foot deeper into his
stretched mouth.

"Well....you will just have to wait. Perform well at the party and you get
to squirt. Disappoint me...and I will whip that hard thing so cruelly that
it will try to shrink and hide by becoming little and tiny. But you know
what, slave?"

"What?" asked the slave as she pushed his head to the side so that she could
slap his face with the sole of her sweaty foot.

"It won't be able to shrink in fear. Do you know why, slave?"

"Why?" he asked as her footsole continued to lightly slap his cheek and
shaved skull.

"Because....I will tie it up with twine at the base, tight as can be. It
will get all veiny, purple, engorged and all nice and ready for the dance of
my whip, that's why. Your cock stays hard until I wish it otherwise.
Aren't I wicked, slave?"

"Yeth," he replied as she foot-jerked his head around again and shoved her
toes back into his mouth and the toes of her other foot up into his nose.

"Yes, I am wicked. And you just love it, don't you footslave, because it
makes your life so exciting, eh?"

"Yeth. I love it. I love YOU!"

"Right answer," and again she cropped the cock and giggled as it recoiled
in a violent bounce. "And I love owning my very own footslave!"

Tears ran from the pisshole of the slave's cock. They also were running now
from his eyes: he was overcome with emotional gratitude that he had a true
Mistress, a Goddess, a Queen whom he could serve. She made his
life.....complete.

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