Shelly and Samantha

In hindsight, it might not have been a great decision. I had lived with it all my life and had decided to do something about it. I was working a nothing job and didn't have a lot of money to throw away, but knew, for sure, that I could be cured. All my life I had been irresistibly drawn to women in boots. I thought my obsession was ruining my life. So, as I looked around for a psychiatrist to see, to cure me. I saved up what money I could. It was almost six months before I found one that seemed the least bit interested in seeing me. Doctor Samantha Keene was a stunning woman in her 40’s. She had excellent references and credentials. At our first visit, I thought she was trying to put me off. But she invited me back the following week and I vowed to stick it out. One thing I did like about her-during my first session she was wearing a pair of pin-stripe slacks over a pair of high-heeled boots. I liked her boots a lot, and thought I noticed an odd wrinkling around the knee of her pants that suggested her boots might be quite tall. Thinking with my little head and choosing a booted woman to cure me of an obsession with booted women was the last big mistake of a life filled with mistakes.

I was a little bit late for my second session and she seemed a little angry. I noticed that she was wearing the same boots, but today they disappeared under the hem of her knee length skirt. I came in and sat in the chair I had sat in the week before. She didn't say anything, at first, then stood and walked over to me.

"You're late," she said, standing over me. I looked up at her. Standing over me, as she was, enhanced her size and authority.

"Yes, Doctor," I started, "Traffic was heavy and ..... " was all I got out. She reached down, grabbing me by my shirt, and jerked me out of the chair. I tried to stand, but she was moving too fast. She must have studied karate or something. I found myself being dragged across the room. I tried to speak and she cupped her other hand and slapped my head. Not real hard, but enough to keep me quiet. She had me scared. Reaching her desk, she got me between her desk and her chair and forced me down to the floor.

"Lick my boots Dean," she said, pulling her chair forward a little and forcing me to back into her deskwell, "Start on the bottom, under the soles". I picked up her booted foot and started licking, more out of reflex than anything else. I hadn't expected this and she was scaring the hell out of me. All I wanted to do was get it over with. I looked up at her and she was leaning back in her chair, watching me. They were good boots with clean, well designed lines that suggested they were quite expensive. While they weren't in the best condition, they had been taken care of in the past. I did as she said, cleaning the sole and spiky heel, then moving on to the shaft of her boot. They did climb high above her knees, but I never found out just how high, every time my mouth reached her knees, she’d grab me by the hair and force my head back down. When one was done, I went to the other. Most of my hour was taken up with it. When I finished cleaning them, she dropped a can of polish and brush on the floor.

"Polish them." she said. I started right on them and, after I started, she started talking.

"Why did you lick my boots?" she asked.

"Because you told me to," I said. I was still scared of her. She had me at a complete disadvantage under the desk.

"Was it that," she went on, "or because you like to do it ?"

I had to stop and think about that for a couple of minutes. I kept polishing her boots as I thought.

"A combination of the two, I think," I said. She had been doing some paperwork as I knelt there cramped in her deskwell polishing her boots and when I spoke, she slammed her hand down on the desk.

"I asked you a specific question," she said. "Now give me an answer !" She had me scared, again.

"Because you forced me to," I said

"That's better," she said. "I want specific answers to my questions from now on, understand?" Yes, Ma’am," I said. This was nothing like I thought it would be. I had picked this woman because I thought she might be more understanding than the other ones. I finished polishing her boots and she took the can and brush from me. There was a knock on the door and she rolled the chair even closer to the desk. I was forced even further under there. I was bent over almost double, just to fit and my face was at her feet.

"What is it ?" she asked, as her secretary came into the room.

"I hadn’t seen your last appointment leave," she said. "Your next one is waiting and your daughter is on line one. "

"Alright," she said. "Wait for me to get off the phone and then send my 4 o’clock in." The secretary left as she picked up the phone. She rolled the chair back a little and put a foot on the side of my face. She grinned as she looked down.

"Shelly," she said into the phone, "how's it going?" There was a pause, as she twisted her foot into my face a little.

"No," she went on, "I won't be late to pick you up. I hadn't forgotten. How could I forget you’re coming home after your first year in college? I'll be at the airport. "

She wheeled her chair away from the desk and I stood, when she motioned me to, and waited while she talked.

"Love you, Shelly," she said, hanging up the phone. Then she turned to me. "Leave by the back door. Be here next week and don't be late. I have a lot planned for that session. You will probably be surprised at how much we will accomplish next week."

I left and wondered if I would return. She had really put the fear into me. But, as the week went on, I relaxed a little more. She called on Wednesday to postpone the session till Saturday morning. I was a little disappointed, but it worked out better. I didn't have to work at all this weekend and I would have time to recover from her "session."

Saturday morning, I was there early, waiting for her when she arrived. She laughed when I told her I didn't want her to get PO'd like I had the last time. Today she was dressed more casually in a tweed blazer over jeans that were tucked into brown boots that grazed her knees. They looked like polo boots, but the Cuban heel was slightly taller. We got to her office and she told me to lick her boots. I resisted for a second and she was on me just as fast.

I didn't think this was the way she should be treating a patient, but maybe she was right. Besides, they were good boots. Once on the floor, at her feet, I went at them. It was well over an hour before I had finished licking and polished them. They really looked good when I finished. She had me lay on the couch, then, and gave me an injection. She said she wanted to get a little deeper into my mind. It was only a couple of seconds before I lost touch with reality. I had a dream while I was laying there and she made a phone call to her daughter. Then she came over and picked me up, like I was nothing. I’m not a real big guy, but she must spend hours in the gym. She carried me to the back door and looked outside. Then took me to her car and put me in the trunk. I kept thinking how this was like so many of my dreams. Once the trunk lid was closed, I passed out. When I started to wake, I heard her voice. She called my name a couple of times. I was cold and the couch seemed to be hard, now. Not soft like it was when I laid down. As I came out of it more, I realized I wasn't on the couch anymore. I was laying on a concrete floor. And the reason I was cold was because I didn't have any clothes on. I was stretched out, laying on my belly. I tried to stand and couldn't even push myself off the floor. Turning my head a little, I saw chain link fence to my sides. From the feel of my back, I knew that's what was holding me down. I tried to speak, but all I could do was mumble. She laughed at my attempts.

"That will wear off in about an hour," she said. She was standing by my head and I tried to look up, but I couldn't see past her booted ankles. She put her foot on the chainlink that was above me and it pushed down even more.

"A couple of day's in here," she said, "and then we'll move you to the other one. In it, you'll be able to stand and move around. But this will always be here for punishment." Again I tried to speak, but still couldn't.

"Shelly wanted to see what you could do with these," she said, stooping down and opening the door- like opening in front of me. She slid in a pair of muddy boots.

"She's watching on the closed circuit TV right now. Say hello Shelly."

I heard a faint "hello" that sounded a little metallic.

"Make sure you get those good and clean," she continued. Then a laugh. "Shelly has a lot of ideas," the doctor said. "She was mad I didn’t bring you home last week. I’m a little worried about her. I may have to put her under treatment, if she gets too wild…like the last time."

Then the doctor laughed and I heard her daughter laugh again through the speaker.

"When you recover," she went on, "you can yell all you want. The room's soundproof. The sooner you take care of the boots, the better."

One of the side-zip boots was on its side and my nose was in the opening of the foot. I tried to move away from it, but couldn't.

"You'd better get used to my foot smell," Shelly laughed over the loudspeaker, "You're going to be smelling them for a long time." It smelled sweaty and dirty and I almost gagged.

The doctor left the room and I heard the door being locked. A few minutes later, I heard their voices over the speaker.

"Come on," the doctor said, "let's have some entertainment while we eat lunch. " My head was clearing more and more. This wasn't supposed to be happening. But the odor from the boots told me it was. The hard, cold floor, the chain link fencing pressing against my back. Reality was setting in. I had been kidnapped, locked in a cage and had a pair of dirty boots in my face. I was to lick them clean. Well, I wouldn't. Somehow, I would get away and then I would fix them.

I laid there with the stink, 'till there wasn't any. They were still dirty and sweaty, but it wasn't noticeable anymore. Then the current started. There was electricity running though the links of the fence. It wasn't real strong at first, then it started building. Soon, it was agonizing. Then it stopped. If I could have, I would have jumped when I heard the doctor’s voice.

"I’d start licking those boots right now," she said. "Make it easy on yourself. You know you like them." I yelled out some obscenity to them and the shocks started right up again. stronger than before. I did my best to hold out, but it was too much, I broke. And as soon as my tongue touched the side of the boot, the current stopped.

"That's right," Shelly said. "Lick my boot. Lick it like the worm you are. Lick it and know that you're going to be licking them for the rest of your life." I really didn't want to lick her boot. All I wanted to do was put this behind me. But it was the only way to have keep the switch off.

I licked as much of it as I could reach and heard Shelly laughing from the speaker. What had she meant when she said for the rest of my life ? I didn't even want to think of that. Maybe, if I did what they wanted, they would let me go. And maybe pigs would fly ! I knew better, but there was always that little bit of hope. Her mother came in and held the boot so I could lick the rest of it and then held the other one. Nothing was said, as she knelt there. When they were both clean, she took them and left. The light was turned off and I was alone in the darkness. I dozed off, thinking of what a mistake I had made. I should have kept this to myself and everything would be as it was. I had screwed up, telling anyone, and I was paying for it. I woke, when the light came on. There was a little music in the background, now. I was having trouble identifying it. Samantha, came in and raised the fencing on my back just a little. Then slid a plate of food in. It looked like oatmeal and tasted bland, but I ate as much as I could. I was starved. She left it there and locked the door behind her. A while later, she came back carrying yet another pair of boots. She took the plate and stuck the boots inside.

"Shelly and I are going out to eat," she said. "Clean my boots well and we may bring a little something back for you. "

I heard Shelly laugh, through the speaker, as I started licking her mother’s boots. I had limited use of my hands, now, and turned them to clean the soles and heels. I started asking her why she was doing this, but she stomped on the chain link over my head and stopped me. The boots she was wearing were pressing my head down hard on her boots I was cleaning.

"You speak when we want you to, " she said. "Until then, we want silence !" She removed her foot and I went back to licking her boot. When I had done them both, she picked them up left. The light was turned off I could hear them, in the background, but couldn't make out what they were saying. Again I dozed off.

When the light came on, I woke up again. They were both coming through the door. It was the first time I had seen Shelly. She was a like her mother, slender but very athletic looking, with dark black hair. A nice looking young lady, the kind of college girl you’d like to date. But, behind the dark brown eyes, you could see the arrogance and malice that I had heard over the speaker. She came over and squatted down by my small cage.

"We didn't bring anything back," she said, with a smile, "other than this chewing gum on the bottom of my boot. But you'll have plenty of chance to get that off."

She laughed and then I felt a pain in my leg and recognized it as a shot being administered. In seconds, I was out. When I woke, I was in a larger cage. One I could at least halfway stand in. About 5' tall, same width and about 12' long. The light was still on and I could see around a lot more than I could in the pressed into the small cage. I could see my previous cage not far away. There was a chemical toilet in the corner of my new cell and, as soon as I saw it, realized I need to use it. As I sat on it, I saw the boots that Shelly had been wearing. They were on the floor by the opening to the cage, inside. There was a thin mattress spread out. It was then I noticed I was wearing a collar, It was a wide, smooth leather collar, with an odd plastic box where the buckle should be.

I almost jumped when I heard Samantha's voice.

"Shelly has already gone to bed," she said, "and I am about to. We are video-taping you, so do as you're told. When you finish with your personal business, clean Shelly's boots. Make sure you get all the gum off. You can even keep it and chew it, if you want. On second thought, I want you to keep it. I'll expect you to be chewing it in the morning." I heard a low laugh and then she went on.

"We'll check the tape in the morning," she said, "and if you don't do as you're told, you'll be punished."

I let out a laugh and shouted, "Fuck you bitch, I’m going to get out of this cage, find you while you sleep and rip off your head and shit down your neck."

I’m sure I heard her sigh slightly. Then the pain started. It broke over me like pounding surf on jagged rocks. I couldn’t stand, I couldn’t breath, I couldn’t think. I fell in a naked, twitching heap on the cold floor.

"That’s a police-issue Tazer in your collar," she said with tired resignation. "Judging from your ‘shit down my neck’ comment you like tired cliches. At this point you’d probably like me to point to a dial and say, ‘that was setting number one, would you like to feel number nine?’ But it doesn’t work that way. That’s the only setting, but we can leave it on until the battery dies. You’d be dead too, but that isn’t how you’re going to die. I’m in no mood for this conversation right now."

"I want you to lick the entire shoe. Any part you can reach with your tongue. That includes the inside. When you're finished with them, then you can go to sleep. "

"Have a good night," she said. "We'll see you in the morning. Just remember, bad boys get shocked." She laughed and then there was silence. She had shut off in mid-laugh. I reached out and picked up one of the boots that had been left there. They were quality boots and they had seen a lot of wear, but were taken care of. The frustration, fear and hopelessness that I had felt, at first, was wearing off and I found myself getting an erection, as I turned Shelly's boot over in my hands. I had tried to see where they had the TV camera down here, but couldn't see it. I positioned my arms so the erection would be hidden, I hoped, and picked up the other boot. As promised, there was the gum. Packed into the crease between the sole and heel. It was almost black, where it was exposed, and the thought of having to chew it almost made me sick. I set it back down and picked the other one up, again. I wasn't real happy with the way things were and, any other time, would really enjoy licking a boot like this. But being locked in a cage and monitored by TV cameras was taking all the fun out of it.

I knew what would happen if I didn't, so I went ahead and started. I was saving the one with the gum for last. They were easy to lick, once I had started. They were soft from wear and smelled of leather and polish. I cleaned every inch of the sole and heel before moving on to the top. Even when I was licking the insole, it smelled good. When I picked up the second one, I decided to reverse the procedure and started from the top. It would be a job getting the gum off and I decided to leave that for last. It took me quite a while to get all the gum off the shoe and I waited 'till I knew I didn't have anything more to do before I started. Then, with it all off, I sat and chewed it for a while. There was no taste to it, after the black disappeared, but she had said she wanted me to be chewing it in the morning. I stuck it on the wire of the cage before I laid down. I had no idea what time it was, but I knew I was tired. I looked at Shelly's boots, as I fell asleep, and wondered if this was the way life was going to be. Locked in a cage and having to perform for them when they wanted it. I hoped there would be more and, if I was lucky, a chance to escape.

I was awake before they showed up in the morning. I heard them at the door and grabbed the gum. They both grinned when they came in.

"The tape was good," Samantha said. She was carrying a bowl of the oatmeal like stuff. She opened a small door on the cage and pushed it through with her booted foot-Lord do they wear any other kind of shoe in this house? There was no spoon or anything like that, so I used my fingers and then licked the bowl. Whatever it was, it was cold and bland, but I was starved.

"You did a good job on the boots, " Shelly said, as I ate. "I had to watch you get the gum off two or three times. I bet you really enjoyed that." She laughed, but I kept eating. She was laughing at that, too.

I'll make sure there is gum for you once in a while," she said, laughing again. "For dessert"

I finished eating and Samantha told me to push the bowel through the door. I did and then she told me to stick my head through the opening.

"Come on, " she said. "There' s enough room." Shelly was moving around to the opening as I got there. There was just enough room for me to get my head though and move around a little. Samantha put a booted foot on the back of my neck and Shelly moved a chair over. Sitting down, she put her feet in my face.

"Now," she said, "Lick my boots clean. It looked like Shelly was having a bit of a Goth day. She was wearing black work pants cropped at the knee and 20-hole Dr. Martens. Docs had never done anything for me. In fact, I considered them a sub-standard boot. But it was evident that Shelly didn't. But she sure didn’t treat them well, they were filthy.

"Come on, slave," she said, " get to it. I don't have all day. The sooner you fall into line and do what you're told, the sooner you get out of your cage. Now start licking."

That was the first time either one of them had used that word, I think that's when the greatest feeling of hopelessness hit me.

"That's right," Samantha said, almost as if she were reading my mind. "I did a little checking up on you. You weren’t chosen at random. You have no family, to speak of. At least no one that's going to report you missing. You told me that yourself. You haven't had contact with them in years. And your boss will think you've skipped town, since you owe almost everyone here." The rounded toe of Shelly's boot was pressing against my lips. I could feel her foot moving inside. She was wanting me to start, but I was listening to what Samantha had to say.

"We got rid of your car last night," she went on. "If they ever find it, It will be a long time from now. And it will add to your disappearance. They'll think there was foul play, and I guess you could call this foul play, but they'll think you're dead…." They both laughed. I started licking the side of Shelly's boot. I saw little chance of escape, for now, and knew I would have to do it eventually.

".... And, for all purposes, you are. As far as the rest of the world is concerned, you don't exist anymore. So make up your mind to be a slave, because that's what you're going to be."

"We own you, " Shelly added, "just like I own those boots you're licking. You were nothing before and you're less than that now. You're lower than the dirt you're getting off my fucking Docs." They both laughed and I started crying. More from hopelessness than anything else. Had I spent another month looking, I may have found the right doctor for the job. Instead, I had found one that had ideas of her own. I was screwed. I couldn't see how a doctor could let her daughter become something like Shelly was, but here was the proof. And the doctor was just as bad.

"We're going to keep you medicated for a while," Samantha said. "Only 'till we're sure how things are going. When we think you've reached the point, the shots will stop. Till then, you'll spend your time in the cage or outside, drugged." I wasn't listening, anymore. It was all running together. My mind was trying to refuse what was going on and trying to accept it at the same time. At last I finished with Shelly's boots and she stood.

She pushed yet another pair of boots back in and then a bag. Inside was a can of polish, brush and a rag. "Polish them," Shelly said. "Do a good job and I'll see you have something extra for lunch." They walked out of the room and left me alone. I took the stuff out of the bag and started polishing her boots. I was still crying, knowing I had little to look forward to now. I know I didn't have much before, but at least I had my freedom. Now I didn't even have that. They planned to keep me caged up, like an animal. Maybe that's what I deserved, I thought. And then a new wave of hopelessness came over me and I started crying again. Shelly came with lunch, which was another bowl of the mush I had been getting. She picked up her boots and looked them over.

"Not bad, " she said, putting them down, "but I know you can do better. "You'll learn. Now kiss my feet and thank me for lunch." I stuck my head through the opening and kissed the top of her boots. Then she pushed the bowl through. Again I went at it with my hands. I never realized how hungry I was till it was feeding time.

"We'll be back in a while," she said, locking the door. "Rest up. You're going to have a busy evening." She laughed, once, as she turned and left.

I finished eating and licked the bowl clean, then my fingers. I was beginning to feel like the animal they were treating me like. I laid down and slept for the rest of the afternoon. I woke, when I heard the outside door being unlocked. They both came in and I saw what Shelly meant. She was in a dressage outfit. Today must have been a show day, she was dressed impeccably in a ruffled shirt under a dark blue tail coat with military accents. Tight white breeches disappeared under super-tall field boots. She held a crop in her gloved hands. Her mother was a picture of equestrian-style haute couture. Her beautiful boots reached well above her knees and had tall, stacked heels. It had clearly been a rainy day, and all four boots were covered and mud and stable muck. It didn’t look like they had bothered to wipe them.

They opened the big door to the cage and Samantha came in and pulled me out. She had a chain in her hand and clipped it to my collar. Then she fastened the other end to the cage. Shelly sat in the chair and looked at me with a grin on her face.

"How about a little entertainment, " she said. "Clean mom’s boots." I looked at her mothers boots and saw how dirty they were.

"I want to watch you lick them, all the time knowing your going to have to clean my boots when you're finished. I had already started licking her mothers boots, kneeling on the floor in front of them. I felt nothing, now, as I did it, other than frustration and embarrassment. I kept looking at Samantha's feet and then at her daughter's boots. I didn't have any prospect of getting away, now. They had seen to that. I would be kept in the cage till I was completely broken to do their bidding. And I was already getting to the point where I didn't care anymore. They talked, between themselves, as I worked on the boots. Once in a while, they would laugh at me, or Samantha would stomp her feet trying to step on my fingers or tongue but most of the time it was as if I wasn't there. When I finished the elders boots, Samantha indicated that I should start on the filthy riding boots. As I started licking the top of the first one, Shelly laughed.

"Get them good and clean," she said. "I don't want to find any dirt on them at all." I cleaned the dirty tops of them. With much effort, I finished them both.

When I had finished, I just laid there. They practically had to drag me back to the cage. Neither one of them spoke when they left. I just crawled to my "bed" and laid there. The light went out and I was allowed to sleep. I was trying to keep track of time and knew I had been there for at least two days now. But it was getting hard to do. They showed up later and had me lick their boots again, then polish them. I figured they were going out and it was either late in the afternoon or early evening. The next time they came in, I got their boots again. I know it rains a lot here in Seattle, but these two must have made it their mission in life to stomp through every puddle and mud-patch. I was getting to the point that I moved to the opening with my tongue out as soon as the door opened.

Later, Samantha came and had me lick yet another pair of boots. I began to loose track of how many pairs of boots these women must own. They seemed to have a different pair for every outfit and activity. All of them reached at least to the knee, and most of them were much higher.

When morning came, I think it was morning, Shelly came in by herself. I immediately got to my knees and licked the brown thighboots she was wearing. She pressed the sole hard onto my face, as I lay there, and seemed to take pleasure in the pain she was causing. Also in the fact that I wasn't offering any resistance. I got fed a little later and then nothing for a very long time. I almost welcomed their return. I had been left in the dark and had lost all track of time, now. Shelly was the first one in and she had changed clothes, so it could have been a new day. I moved to the opening as she unlocked it, and, when she sat, started licking her boots.

"We may have to bring you up to the house," she said laughing, "if you keep up like this." I was licking the sole of her shoe, as she spoke.

"It seems like you're falling into the role of slave a lot faster than I expected," she went on. "But I like seeing you in a cage. So, we'll keep you here a while longer." I was listening to what she was saying, but not paying much attention to it. She wanted her boots taken care of and that was what I was concentrating on. When I had licked them both clean, I polished them. By then, Samantha was there and she took her daughter's place. She had yet another pair of fashionable thighboots on and had me lick them clean, too. By the time she had sat down, I knew that was my place.

Maybe, after a while, I would know the pleasure I used to know with a pair of boots. But now it was something I had to do. She had cured me, alright. But what a price I had paid. I polished the boots and they left.

One day ran into the next. It was always the same. I had lost quite a bit of weight and the will to fight them. And I didn't speak, anymore. There was no point. Once in a while, one of them would come in and hose me down with cold water. My "bed" was taken out and cleaned and my potty emptied. I was living, now, for the day I would be taken out of the hole I was in.

My first trip upstairs was on the end of a chain. With the collar in place, I was led up the stairs, like a dog, and into the family room. When I tried to stand upright, a torrent of kicks taught me I was expected to remain on all fours.

Kneeling in front of her, Shelly put her feet on me and used me for a foot stool as she sat and watched TV. She was wearing a pair of boots with sharp heels and she’d often dig them into my back.

They didn't speak to me at all. It was as if I had become a piece of the furniture. I got to look around, a little. As far as I could see, the house was just as normal as any other. I mean pictures on the wall, good furniture, nice rugs. It could have been any house at all. But this one had a guy on a chain laying naked on the floor, with a college girl’s booted feet in his face. That set it apart from all the others in the neighborhood.

It was while she was watching TV that I found out I had been there for almost a month. I had tried to keep track of the time, but it had become so difficult, my mind had given up on it. I think that had been done on purpose and it had worked. Samantha came in and sat, putting one foot on my stomach and the other in my crotch. There was no response from me at all. The heel of her boot dug into the skin and I felt pain, but I didn't show it.

"See," she said, "the cure worked. Your no longer get excited by boots." Shelly laughed, moved one foot so it was covering my mouth and pressed down firmly.

"Now we're going to work to get it back the other way," she said. "As my slave, I want you to get excited at my feet. When you lick my clean, pretty high-heeled boots, I want you to know it's a reward for doing a good job. When you lick my dirty, nasty Dr. Martens it's punishment."

"You see," Samantha said, "I can work it both ways. I can twist your mind any way I want to." "My mucky riding boots are another thing, " Shelly said. "I'll have you lick them because I like seeing you degrade yourself, and of course I need them to be cleaned.

You need a constant reminder that you belong to us and licking our boots will do that." I still wasn't feeling anything, I just laid there and listened to them talk. I tried not to take any of it in, but I knew I was. Shelly took the chain and led me to her bedroom. Fastening it to a hook in her closet, she locked me in. I heard them in the house for a while and then they left. I just crouched there, waiting. I probably could have yelled, but there probably wasn't anyone around to hear. And I really didn't have the strength or will to do it. It was late, when they came back. Shelly came in for me and led me out to the kitchen. I could see that it was dark. They had brought pizza back and Samantha was at the table.

"Get me a coke," Shelly said, handing the chain to her mother. I looked around and then went to the fridge. I got a can of coke and put it on the table in front of her. She just sat and looked at it 'till I realized she wanted me to open it for her, which I did. I stood and watched them eat, for a while, until Samantha decided she wanted me to clean her boots. She was wearing a pair of medium heeled boots under pants cropped around the calf. They looked normal side-zip kneeboots worn in a trendy way. It would have taken an expert to see these reached well up her thighs. I crawled to her and started licking them. There was no feeling to it. It was just something I had to do.

They talked about the play they had just seen. Had anyone looked in and listened, it would have sounded like a normal mother and daughter talking. But a normal mother and daughter wouldn't have a naked man in chains under the table licking their boots.

"Shall we give it some pizza ?" Shelly asked. Attending to her mother’s boots, I could only imagine the grin on her face.

"I think it could use a treat," Samantha said. " Go ahead and feed it some."

I heard something hit the floor near Shelly and was pushed in that direction by Samantha's boot. There was a slice of pizza on the floor. Come get it, boy," Shelly said, snapping her fingers.

I started crawling in her direction, looking at the only real food I had seen in over a month. I kept my eyes on it, as I crawled. I didn't care if it was on the floor, it looked good. When I was about a foot away, Shelly moved, supposedly to reach for something on the table, and put her booted foot on it. I watched as she ground it into the floor with the lug sole of her boots.

"Aw," she said, and I could hear the laughter being held back. "Oh, well, don't let that stop you. Come on and eat up."

I finished crawling the final foot and looked at the mess on the floor, oozing out from under Shelly's boot.

"Come on, boy," she said, "eat it. You didn't think I was just going to let you eat it for free. No way ! Now clean it off my boot before you get the mess off the floor. " I picked up her foot and looked at the mess under the bottom of her shoe. Then I started licking it. Even though it was on her boot, it still tasted good. I worked hard at getting every bit of it from between each bump on that sole before I went to the floor and started licking it. They were both laughing, by then.

"Shall I give him another ?", Shelly asked. I saw a piece of sausage drop to the floor and picked it up and ate it. I was still hungry, not even receiving the usual bowl of mush that afternoon.

"I don't think his system would take it," Samantha said. "Better not. He'll probably have the shits from the one." With that, any hope of more faded and I just knelt there, under the table, till they finished eating.

"Clean the place up, " Samantha said, tugging on the chain and pulling me out from under the table. I stood and collected the plates and glasses, as they watched. I put the empty box in the trash, just outside the back door. The cool night air felt good against my skin. It was the first fresh air I had smelled since I had been taken. They took me back to the basement and put me back in my cage. The chain was taken off, but the collar, as always, was left in place. I went to my bed and laid down as they left the room. I had enjoyed my limited freedom and was looking forward to the next trip upstairs. Shelly returned a few minutes later and tossed her riding boots in the cage.

"I've got an exhibition tomorrow," she said. "Make sure they're good and clean."

That was all she said. She turned and left and I went and picked them up. They were dirty, as usual, and I just started licking one. I knew someone was watching me, since the light was still on, and I saw no point in waiting. I thought I heard a laugh, as I started on the muddy bottom of the boot, but I didn't pay any attention to it. This was my job, now. Licking their boots clean, and providing them with entertainment. My only relief from this kind of life, now, was death. And I knew that Samantha wouldn't allow that. She would make sure that I was healthy enough to serve them for a long time to come. I finished and the light went out. Shelly would be there early in the morning to pick up her boots, and probably give me some other task. I fell asleep, still hungry, and dreamed, not about freedom but about pizza.

I woke when Samantha came into the room. She took the chain and fastened it to the collar. "Pick up the boots," she said. I picked them up and she led me to the door. Upstairs, Shelly was just getting up. Her mother handed her the chin as she turned on the bed.

"Come kiss my feet, slave, " she said, as they hit the floor. I got on my knees and kissed her feet. "Good boy," she said. "You're learning."

She stood and fastened the chain to her closet.

"I'm going to shower," she said. "Gather up the riding habit you saw me in before."

I looked at her, trying to figure out how I was supposed to know where everything was and she just grinned.

"You'll find everything, well, you better." she said. She went into the bathroom and I started looking for the things she wanted. I soon had everything laid out on the bed, waiting for her. When she finished, she came out and stood by the bed. She dropped the towel and motioned for me to come over.

"My panties," she said, "put them on me. Come on, dress me." I got her underpants and helped her put them on, then the rest of her clothes. Kneeling in front of her, tying the laces of her field boots, I started to get an erection. She poked at it with her foot.

"See," she said, "now it's going the other way. Before long, you'll enjoy being our slave. But remember, the riding boots are going to be punishment, so don't get to like them too much, if you do, we're going to have to find something else to use as punishment. But first there’s something you’ve got to see."

"We’re going to be having company soon, and we don’t want any interruptions, so…." She opened a small chest and took out a handful of leather straps and chrome O-rings and buckles. One of them was clearly a complicated head harness and large red ball-gag. She slipped it on my head.

"Open wide," she said as shoved the gag into my mouth and strapped it in tight. She led me to a closet with mirrored doors that overlooked the entry hall. Once inside she bound my ankles and secured them to a ring in the floor. Then she strapped my wrists behind me and attached a hook to a ring on the top of my head harness. The hook was attached to a rope and pulley system. She pulled the rope tight and cleated it off. I was stretched tight and could do little more than sway a few inches in either direction.

Shelly double checked her work and then grabbed the straps of my head harness with both hands. She forced me to look her straight in the eyes and said with all seriousness, "We wanted you to see this live, for real, no video cameras. You can probably make some kind of weak moaning noise behind that gag and you might try to attract the attention of our guests. Don’t."

She shook my head for emphasis and continued, "If they hear you, we’ll just explain we’re training a puppy, and I guess we really are. My mom is a well respected Doctor, they’ll believe her and leave, and then we will kill you slowly. So far we’ve been pretty nice to you, don’t make us show you our mean side."

With that she released my head, stepped out of the closet and closed the doors. The mirrored doors were one-way glass, and I could see the entry way and down most of the hall. I didn’t have long to wait.

The doorbell rang and Samantha, looking every inch a respectable psychiatrist, let in two men in suits with a gurney.

"Dr Keene," one began. "We’re from Sunnyvale and we’re so sorry to hear about your grandfather." He looked at a medical chart. "It says here that Dr. Karen Byrne was the attending physician and he was cared for by The Sisters of Mercy Hospice. Everything seems to be in order. You’ll be relieved to know he’ll be spared the bother of an autopsy."

Samantha used the sweet voice I hadn’t heard since our first session, "Thank you so much for you kind attention, it’s meant so much to us in our time of grief." With that she led the men down the hall. Shortly they reappeared, now with a human form under a sheet on the gurney. After an exchange of pleasantries the two men, and their cargo, left.

Samantha shook her head slightly, walked over to the closet and threw open the door.

"I hope you’re not stupid enough to think that was actually my grandfather," she said in the cold mocking voice I had grown to know. "My mother got him for me in… it must have been 1973 when I was a little younger than Shelly is now. He replaced one my grandmother had found for my mother. We’ve been doing it for generations.

"I’m sure he had a name, but I’ve forgotten it. It’s never been hard to find malleable, forgettable men, lost souls nobody will miss. He was with me for over 30 years and I don’t miss him a bit. He got too old and became a bother. You’re all quite expendable."

"We just referred to him as, well, ‘him’ as in have ‘him’ do it. Or ‘he’ was acting up today, it’s time for more shock treatment. You’re our new ‘him.’ Don’t act like an ass and you’ll live a long life and die peaceably." "

If you go the other way, well there really is a Dr. Karen Byrne. She’s one of us and she’ll be happy to come here and take your tongue, just for starters. She actually prefers hers’ without tongues, takes all kinds. Anyway, you don’t want to go down the bad slave road. I’m sure I won’t have to explain your role in this house again."

She then untied me and led me into the kitchen.

Breakfast was on the table and I saw a bowl of the mush on the floor beside her chair. As they sat and ate, I knelt by Samantha's chair and ate my mush. Shelly told her about my erection earlier and they got a laugh from it.

"We'll have to work on that," Samantha said. "But we've seen how easy it is to twist his mind around. Shouldn't be a problem." I cleaned the kitchen, after they finished, and then was led to the family room. I took up a position, in front of them, without being told to. I knew they would want me there, anyway.

"On your back, " Shelly ordered. I turned over and watched as she put her feet on my chest. I felt her mother put her feet on my legs and then move one to my crotch. I concentrated on not getting an erection and, of course, it didn't work. The more I tried not to, the faster it grew. Even the pressure from Samantha's boot didn't stop it.

"Maybe a little pain will help," she said, and I felt the heel of her boot dig into the soft flesh. I started to lift my head and Shelly stopped me with her foot. It was now resting on my cheek.

"Just relax," she said. "You'll learn, in time. And you’ve got nothing but time." My erection was going down, now, even though I couldn't see or smell anything but the sole of her boot. Maybe it was the pain that was doing it, I don't know. Of course I really didn’t know anything anymore.