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PART THREE
The next couple of days passed relatively uneventfully. I did my usual chores, was scolded and had a few humiliations, but nothing major. It was as if everything was being saved for the weekend. Even the twins had little to say, just a comment or two about my seeming to have had some kind of accident in the office since they heard my screaming. I spent two more nights on the hard, cold garage floor, but was so tired from all the menial work that I was able to get some sleep. Waking up early on Saturday, I was filled with dread for the arrival of the guests. The kids were being farmed out to the friends and I sensed the Jeff and Ann were as anxious as I was for the arrival of their friends, only their anxiousness and my anxiousness were for entirely different reasons.
I spent the day, as usual, cleaning and preparing the house for the arrival of the guests. Jeff and Ann were in and out of the house, doing what, I didn’t know, but I was too busy to even give it much thought. Ann had thought about cooking for her friends, or having me prepare the food, but decided to have it catered instead, preferring the ease of the prepackaged, and allowing me to concentrate on other aspects of attending to their needs, as she put it. It was also interesting how playful and flirty Ann and Jeff were, kissing and smooching since they didn’t have to worry about the kids. When 4 p.m. rolled around and Jeff ordered me to fix a pitcher of martinis for them, I felt as anxious as a boy on his first date and I got a sense that Jeff and Ann were also anxious to share their new servant and see their reaction to me. Jeff and Ann had sat on the couch as I poured their drinks into a martini glass, put them on a tray and carried them over to them, kneeling down as I offered them their drinks. They were both dressed casually—it wasn’t so much a party, but friends getting together—shorts, polo shirt for Jeff, blouse for Ann. They kissed for a few minutes I knelt, head bowed, tray held conveniently for when they decided to pick them up.
“I think our servant boy has something for us,” Ann noted between kisses.
“He can wait. I’m getting so fucking hot, maybe we should go have a quick one.”
I took a quick glance up and saw that Ann was rubbing Jeff’s cock through his shorts and he had a couple of buttons undone on her blouse and was playing with her breasts as they continued to neck. I felt jealous, yet excited as I knelt there and felt the glance was worth the risk of being caught looking at them. Finally, they broke apart, laid back on the sofa, both simultaneously sighing with mutual pleasure.
“Drinks,” Jeff snapped and I held the tray up closer for them to retrieve their glasses. They took their martinis and sipped as I knelt with head bowed staring at Ann’s beautiful pink toes. But instead of getting to kiss her gorgeous feet, Jeff gave me the command to worship his feet.
I leaned over and began the task of kissing his feet by kissing the top of his foot, then sort of moving down and kissing the top of his toes, trying to avoid going too far on his feet which retained their masculine smell.
“How hot is this? Your former friend is down there kissing your feet while you and I make out like queen and king,” Ann marveled.
“We
are the rulers of the
“Yes, Master, absolutely,” I mumbled as I sucked on Jeff’s big toe.
“Make sure you run your tongue between my toes, clean them, make your Master feel good.”
I nodded my head and did as he told, cleaning between his toes, sucking and nibbling as I went. They had been walking around barefooted for most of the day and I noticed that their feet were somewhat dirty. I could hear them kissing and moaning as I attended to Master Jeff; after a couple of minutes, Ann said, “Slave, keep sucking, but look up here.”
I tilted my head upward as I licked Jeff’s toes and I was nearly shocked to see that Ann was stroking his cock with her hand. Jeff was fully erect and sticking out of the fly of his shorts, I had to admit not only was the brazen display of Jeff’s penis surprising, I could see the power and lust in Ann’s eyes as she rubbed her man; I also couldn’t believe how large Jeff’s member was: not enormous or anything, but a good size.
“Isn’t it beautiful? Ann said, her voice masked with lust.
“Yes, Mistress,” I agreed.
She leaned over and gave the shaft of his penis a long lick as Jeff moaned with pleasure. I also was fully erect at the display of eroticism, Ann was no longer a soccer mom, she was freaking hot sexual animal.
“Baby, that feels so good,” Jeff managed to say.
“I can’t tell how much it turns me on to watch you getting your toes sucked by that piece of shit. Tell your Master how beautiful his cock is.”
“Master Jeff, your cock is beautiful,” I said, totally embarrassed. Not long ago I could have never imagined that I would be telling Jeff that his cock was beautiful.
“Tell him you want to kiss it.”
What? I didn’t say anything.
“Tell him you want to kiss it before I whip the hide off of you.”
I had no doubt that Ann was serious and capable of whipping me with great severity. “I want to kiss your cock, Master Jeff.” I could see Jeff leering down at me with a grin as Ann continued to run her hand up and down his shaft. Kissing his cock was about the last thing I wanted to do, but I feared the pair and I wasn’t going to argue.
“Beg for it.” Jeff surprised me with this command. Jeff and Ann were about the last couple I would have expected to be asking for something so different and kinky—guess you never know about someone.
“Yeah, that’s right, beg,” Ann panted as she kissed his neck and stroked his shaft faster.
“Please, Master Jeff, may I kiss your beautiful cock. I beg you, Sir.”
“You call that begging?” Ann was nearly breathless as she and Jeff made out.
“Please…please…please Sir, may I kiss your beautiful cock?”
“Me first.” Ann took Jeff’s cock into her mouth and bobbed up and down a few times as Jeff moaned from her cock sucking. She came off of it with a loud slurping sound and looked down at me, her eyes dizzy with passion as a bit of spit hung from her mouth. “That’s how you suck a cock, you worthless piece of shit.”
Jeff had completely unbuttoned her blouse and he was playing with her breasts as I glance upward and said once again, “Master, may I please kiss your cock?”
“Yes, just a kiss.” He and Ann started French kissing as I leaned up and forward and hesitantly kissed the top of his penis, which was moist from Ann’s saliva. It was softer than I would have imagined and not entirely unpleasant. I sat back down on my haunches as they made out for another minute Ann finally breaking apart their embrace.
“Did you like kissing your Master’s cock slave?”
“It was okay, Mistress.”
“Okay?” Ann leaned over and slapped my face hard. “That was a privilege and honor. Okay doesn’t cut it.” She slapped me again.
“Yes, Mistress, sorry Mistress. It was great honor.”
“You’d better get used to it. There are times when Jeff needs a little pleasure and I can’t or I’m not in the mood-that’s when you will be performing another duty for your new bosses. You’ll suck his cock like your life depended upon it.”
I couldn’t believe I was ready to agree to this, but I found the words, “Yes, Mistress” tumbling out of my mouth as if they had their own will. Just then the doorbell rang.
“Shit, that must be Betsy and Mark. We’ll have to finish this later.”
“But what about this?” A big smile on his face, Jeff thrust his crotch upward indicating his massive erection.
“We’ll take care of that later, babe,” Ann said, buttoning her blouse. “Go answer the door shithead, but stay on your knees. I want our guests to witness from the start what you’ve become.”
Greatly
nervous, I quickly crawled to the front door and opened it. The warmth of the afternoon entered the room
and flooded me along with my embarrassment.
I kept my head bowed, unable to meet the gaze of my former friends.
“What do we have here?” Mark
asked arrogantly, “a fool on his knees?”
Betsy muttered something like “Oh brother,” as Ann and Jeff came up from behind and warmly greeted their friends who entered the foyer as I shut the door behind them.
“I’m so glad you could make it,” Ann gushed, giving each a big hug.
Jeff gave Betsy a hug and shook Mark’s hand and said his hellos, the foursome momentarily ignoring me. Betsy began to slide her foot out of her sandal, but Ann stopped her. “Let him take it off for you,” she said, giving me a small kick, “that’s part of his duties.”
“Are you sure?” It was obvious Betsy was somewhat uncomfortable with the situation.
“Oh yes, honey, I know it seems a little weird, but you’ll like it.” Mark was encouraging his wife to go with the situation. “I don’t have a problem with it, take ‘em off,” Mark barked at me, sticking his foot in front of my face before I had a chance to remove Betsy’s sandals. He was dressed country club, green pastel polo shirt, Bermuda shorts and loafers. He was the epitome of a wealthy arrogant preppy and I detested him, but there I was, crawling at his feet. He wasn’t wearing any socks with his loafers and as I pulled off his shoe I dreaded the worst. I removed the shoe and Mark held his smelly bare foot directly in front of my face. “Kiss it.” Mark planted his foot square on my face and I pressed my lips to the sole.
Betsy gave him a playful slap. “What are you doing? That’s disgusting.”
“Yea, it’s disgusting, but what do I care. Get the other one off now!” Mark was immediately into the role of dominating me. Mark put the other foot into my face and I removed the shoe, giving his sweaty foot a kiss.
“Now Betsy.” Ann said to me before turning her attention to Betsy. “I know it’s a little on the weird side, but it’s also a lot of fun, not to mention, convenient. A simple snap of my fingers, and he comes running, or in his case, crawling, to do WHATEVER I want.” Ann was only a few steps away as she snapped her fingers and pointed downward towards her feet to demonstrate her control over me.
I quickly crawled in front of her, “Yes, Mistress?”
“See what I mean?” Ann was giggling. “I want you remove Betsy’s sandals and show her the proper respect.”
“Yes, Mistress.” I slipped the low-heeled sandals off of Betsy’s feet, giving each foot a kiss. Thankfully, her feet were well maintained, the nails a pretty pink. Betsy matched her husband’s preppiness, but not his arrogance. Dressed smartly in a sundress, she was casually stylish.
As I kissed her feet, Betsy said, “That kind of tickles, but I like it.”
“Feel free to tell him to do whatever you want, he’s simply a servant and nothing more. Don’t hesitate to use him, maybe later, I’ll have him give you a foot massage, somehow he is good at it.”
“Excellent.” Betsy said.
Jeff turned to lead the group into the entertainment room. “What would you like to drink? I made martinis or we have beer, wine.”
“A martini sounds delicious,” Betsy said.
“I’ll take a glass of wine, a merlot,” Mark said.
Before moving on, Jeff gave me a kick in the ass. “You heard our guests. Move it!”
“Yes, Sir.”
“And crawl, don’t think about standing up unless one of us tells you too.”
I quickly crawled away as guffaws from the group littered down upon my ears. “Unbelievable,” Mark said, “I never thought he had much going for him. Now I see why.”
“He’s a loser, that’s for sure,” Ann agreed as the group sauntered into the family room. Almost useless, but it is fun to torment the shithead.”
I poured their drinks, put them on the serving tray and awkwardly crawled into the family room where Ann and Betsy were talking about houses, Jeff and Mark, the Lakers. I had a wisp of nostalgia for when I used to engage in sports talk, but crawling around on the floor had mitigated any idea of the posed machismo that was needed to talk Lakers or football; I was meeting head on with the fact that I was their wimpy servant.
“Sir, your drink,” I said to Mark, holding up the tray as he took his glass of wine. I proceeded to serve the rest, no one paying any attention to me; it was like I was invisible. I took out a tray of cheese and crackers and while remaining on my knees, served the hors devours to them.
I should have been happy about being ignored for it wasn’t long when Mark decided to have a little fun with me, at least what he considered fun. He took a bite of one cracker and said, “I don’t like this one. You can have it.” With that he took the cracker and mashed it onto my nose, the cheese binding it to my skin. They all started laughing.
“Good job, Mark,” Ann said gleefully, “the more you hide that ugly face, the better. Sometimes, I think we should get him a mask to wear. Over here,” Ann said, beckoning me with crook finger. I crawled to her as she took a cracker off the tray and smashed onto my head, grinding it into my hair. Jeff, who was sitting next to his wife, reached over and did the same.
“Now, look at you, slave, you’re a mess,” Jeff chortled. “What do you have to say for yourself? Don’t you have better manners than that?”
“You’d better not be getting crumbs on my floor,” Ann warned. “Look at that, he is getting crumbs on the floor. What a slob.” Ann was voicing what I assumed was mock anger, but anymore, it was hard to discern her mood.
“Lick them up, pig” Jeff said. “Every single crumb.”
I bent down and began licking the floor, carpet fibers getting mixed in with cracker crumbs only added to the disgusting nature of my command.
“Remember when
this guy thought he was some kind of hot shit, writing that
“Sounds like he’ll lick anything,” Betsy said with disgust. “Feet, floors, what won’t that disgusting pig lick?”
“Should we give it a test?” Mark asked with eagerness. “What should we have him lick up now?”
“Here’s one.” Ann took a plate that she had been using to hold her crackers and spat upon it. She held it out. “Lick this.”
Betsy and the rest gave laughs of disgust and humor. “Ann…you devilish girl.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” Jeff said.
I stuck out my tongue and clean the thick spit off of Ann’s plate which was disgusting enough, I feared the men would do the same. Fortunately, if you can call it that, Ann turned to Betsy. “Betsy, want to try?”
Betsy looked at the plate with a mixture of distaste, intrigue and a gleam of mischief. “He really will?”
“You just saw for yourself,” Ann said, handing Betsy the plate.
“Why not.” Betsy took a moment and gathered spit in her mouth before letting it loose on the plate. “Lick, you disgusting pig.” I took the plate and licked Betsy’s spittle off of it, trying to distance my mind from the grotesque act. This set something off in Betsy who suddenly became more aggressive. “You like that? You enjoy my spit? Maybe you’d like to drink my piss too?” Betsy stood up and slapped me. “What would Joann say if she saw you doing this? Or your son? Do they know how disgusting you are?” She slapped me three more times.
“Go Betsy go,” Jeff cheered.
“Yeah, give it to him, honey,” Mark encouraged.
“I asked you a question?” Betsy slapped me again and began tapping her foot.
“I…uh, Joann would be disgusted, I suppose.”
“Of course she would, because you ARE disgusting.” Slap again. “I just want to beat the fucking shit out of you, you know that?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Ma’am?! Do I look that fucking old to you?” Betsy rattled my head four more times with her vicious slaps.
“No, sorry.”
“Apologize and make sure you call her Mistress Betsy,” Ann said sternly. “And if you want to beat the crap out of him, please do.”
I leaned over and kissed Betsy’s feet. “Sorry, Mistress Betsy, I apologize deeply for calling you ma’am.”
She looked at her friends and said, “You’d think I was some kind of grandma or something…you’re the old man around here, the old, washed up loser.” They all started laughing at Betsy’s comments which struck deep; I WAS an old washed up loser being overwhelmed by my younger counterparts.
“I have an idea,” Jeff said. I hated Jeff’s ideas, they were nothing but trouble. “Go get a magic marker from the office.”
“Yes, Master,” I mumbled crawling away having an idea that something was going to be marked on me. I quickly found the pen and the ominous writing on the label of the permanent marker. Permanent? This could be bad, very bad. Returning to kneeling before the two couples that were laughing and enjoying themselves like any other group of friends getting together for a Saturday evening. They ignored me for several moments leaving me feeling awkward simply sitting there on knees and doing nothing. Jeff and Mark were busy making disparaging remarks about a coworker, questioning his competence, which gave Mark an opening for a dig.
“Of course, Nerd Boy,” the coworker they were talking about was called nerd boy, like they had any room to be calling someone a nerd, “isn’t as nearly as bad off as Mike. Mike is the ultimate of incompetence. The bottom of the food chain. Literally the bottom.”
“Yes,” Jeff agreed, “could you see Mike serving as Andrew’s lackey? It would be like the blind leading the blind.”
Mark laughed. “Yeah, I’m sure that Andrew hasn’t even gotten laid.”
“Whose Andrew? You haven’t said anything to me about him,” Betsy said. I could see the curiosity in Betsy about this Andrew.
“He’s some new hire, only a couple of years out of school. He’s pretty smart, but a lot to learn. And he’s chubby, shy, awkward around women. Your usual loser, unlike…” Jeff leaned over and grabbed the marker out of my hand. “…this loser.” He began writing on my forehead. “Here it is in permanent marker…l-o-s-e-r.”
They all started laughing. “Oh, that is too funny,” Ann said. “We should send him out for an errand.”
“That is evil, Ann.” Betsy was looking at Ann with a new appreciation.
“I don’t know about that. But it will certainly keep him humble…they way he should be.”
Mark was staring at me with absolute disdain. “Oh I don’t think he will ever have an idea of anything but being humble from now on.”
Betsy was also staring at me, whether it was the situation that was so crazy or if she was mulling an idea through her head, I could see that something was going on with her. Ann also noticed her pondering.
“What is it, Betsy?”
“Maybe we should dress him up like a girl…or as much as possible and let Andrew practice with him. Mike, or I guess it would be something more like Michelle would be his little toy slut, use him anyway he liked.”
“I’m not so sure that Andrew is gay or as kinky like we seem to be,” Jeff doubted though a smile crept on his face.
“You might give him a few hints. Perhaps hire Mike to be his secretary and work it in from there.”
“Hhm, interesting idea, but probably have better uses for Mike for right now.”
Betsy continued. “You know what we should do…check out what kind of girl loser is.”
“Yes,” Mark agreed, “he should be in a dress. He’s definitely not a man.” Mark stared at me. “You’re not a man are you? At least a real man?”
“Uh, I guess not, sir.”
“You guess? Do real men go around kissing other men’s feet? Letting them beat them? Have loser written on their forehead?” Mark was laughing at me.
I was near tears as I stared at the floor. “No, Sir.” I was defeated, there was no way that I felt that I could really be called a man.
Mark held up is barefoot. “Go ahead, kiss it.” I planted a kiss on the bottom of his foot. “Thank me.”
“Thank you, Sir.”
“For what?” Mark’s tone was no nonsense and the room had grown quiet.
“For showing me what I am and allowing me to…to…be in your service. To be in all of your service.”
“Good, Mike,” Mark
said, holding his other foot up for me to kiss, “I’m glad you understand your
position. You are very fortunate that
the
“No, Sir, we can’t,” I said between licks to the sole of his sweaty, salty foot. I took a glance at the group who was watching Mark with an odd contentedness, whether it was the alcohol or the moment, the mood had decelerated into mellowness.
Ann had a bemused smile on her face. “What do you think, Betsy? How does it feel to watch your husband demean and use another man?”
Betsy had rested her head on Mark’s shoulder and was holding his hand. “It’s fabulous. Still a little weird. I don’t think I’ll be sharing this with our neighbors anytime soon.”
Ann leaned forward with a jolt of eagerness raising the energy level. “You know what is even better? Watching your man beat another man. It is so primal, I mean, damn to watch someone get thrashed by another person…” Ann mocked fanning herself. “Hot…”
“Cool down there,
girl.” Mark was all smiles. “I can see that things are going well that
way in the
I was licking, kissing and sucking, dreading what was about to happen. I had healed up from my previous encounter with Jeff, and I was suspecting I was in for more of the same. “You used a belt on him last time?” Mark asked with an insouciance that defied the concept that they were talking about beating another human being.
“Yes,” Jeff answered with equal casualness, “I used a belt, but we can find something else for you…though we do need to get some proper implements like whips, crops and canes.”
“Oh, honey, what are you thinking,” Ann interjected like they were discussing the weather, “we have the girl’s riding crops in the garage.”
“Yes, yes,” Betsy said excitedly, “crops. Now that would hurt.”
“Oh, there are a lotta of things that we could use.
“Shoes?” Mark had a gleam in his eye.
“Yes,” Ann matched his gleam. “Would you like Mike to fetch your loafer or one of Betsy’s slides?”
Mark pretended he was pondering a deep thought. “The slide would be too light. Fetch the loafer boy. And bring it back in your mouth like a good dog.”
Once again, I crawled away and managed to get the shoe into my mouth and bring it back to Mark. “Good, boy,” he said, taking his loafer into his hand, “bringing your Master his shoe to blister your ass with. Stand and strip,” Mark commanded.
This was not going to be easy, getting naked in front of what was essentially an audience. I slowly rose to my feet, it felt good to stand, and began undressing in front of my tormentors. “Geez, haven’t you ever heard of a gym?” Mark said.
Mark was in a little better shape than Jeff, but he didn’t have anything to brag about, yet there were titters from the women. “Yeah, instead of loser, we should have written lumpy on his forehead,” Betsy giggled. She stood up and walked over to me and pinched my sides revealing love handles of fat, she then pulled harder yanking me onto my toes from the pain. “Isn’t this disgusting? It’s like seal blubber.”
“Make a seal noise, slave, perform for us,” Ann ordered.
I hesitated trying to think of what the sound was like. Betsy grabbed a nipple and pulled hard. “You heard her, seal. Make a noise.”
As Betsy pulled and twisted, I started barking the best I could like a seal as everyone laughed, Ann even clapping with delight at my behavior. “That is too much.”
“And what is this tiny thing?” Betsy pointed at my penis. “Poor Joann, I never knew she had it so bad. I didn’t know she was married to a eunuch.” I had stopped barking. Betsy twisted my nipple viciously. “Keep barking.”
As I barked, I noticed the shoe in Mark’s hand as he kept rhythmically slapping it against his hand, an evil look on his face as he waited his turn with me.
“Back on your knees, clap and spin like a seal,” Betsy ordered. Betsy falling quite quickly and easily into the role of dominant.
“Too bad we don’t have a ball to balance on his nose,” Jeff commented.
“Use this.” Mark handed Betsy his loafer and she put it over my face, the inside part covering my nose so I had to inhale the odor.
Ringmistress Betsy kept things going. “Bark, spin, clap and balance Mark’s shoe on your nose. You drop it, you’re going to pay.”
Keeping my head turned back, spinning and clapping my hands while barking gave great amusement to everyone who clapped and urged me to spin faster and bark louder. “That’s right, perform for us, loser,” Jeff yelled over the racket I was making.
Betsy was twirling her hand above me as she urged me to go faster and faster. The inevitable occurred and the shoe slipped off my face and plopped onto the ground, the room instantly becoming quiet as if I had committed a major faux pus. I kept my head down as I dreaded the next sequence of events. Betsy slowly hissed: “Look at me.”
I looked up and she stood over me glaring down with obvious anger, it seemed to me they were taking all of this a bit too seriously. “What did I tell you?”
“Not to drop the shoe,” I mumbled.
“Louder.”
“Not to drop the shoe, Mistress Betsy.”
“Not exactly, I said if you dropped it, you were going to pay. Now, what do you think I meant by that?”
“That I’d be in trouble.”
“Oh yes, you’re in trouble all right. But for a loser like you, I’m sure that’s nothing new, is it?”
“No, I suppose not, Mistress.”
“Yes, I suppose not. I’m trying to keep my composure, despite the fact that you insulted my husband by dropping his shoe on the ground.”
“I didn’t mean to insult him.”
“Then you meant to insult me by disobeying my order.”
Mark got up from the couch. “So you meant to insult my wife?” He was standing next to Betsy, I was staring down at their feet wishing I could disappear.
“Please Master, Mistress, I did not mean to insult you. It was the furthest thing from my mind. I only want to please you, to do everything I can for your pleasure.”
“That’s not what your actions demonstrated,” Mark said.
“I’m very disappointed in you, shithead,” Ann said.
“I’m sorry, Mistress.”
“Sorry doesn’t cut it.” Ann sounded disappointed, I wasn’t sure how much was genuine, but she certainly was acting like I had let her down. “My apologies to you and Betsy, Mark.”
“Don’t worry about it, Ann, it wasn’t your fault. I’ll be more than glad to handle his discipline. With your permission of course.”
“Yes, please do as you wish.” Ann was the gracious host trying to keep her guests happy.
“Go push the ottoman in front of Ann and Jeff.”
I followed Mark’s orders and put the piece of furniture in front of Jeff and Ann. “Pick up my shoe and hand it to me, then get up on it on your hands and knees.”
I did as I was told, my ass in a convenient position for Mark to punish, arms and legs shaking from fear as Ann put her foot under my face for me to kiss her toes, her nails pedicured in a French style. “This should be interesting.” Ann’s voice had that what was now familiar tone of lust and Mark was once again slapping his shoe against his hand in an ominous rhythm. “Are you shaking, shithead?”
“Yes, Mistress Ann,” I said, between kisses to her toes.
She and the rest laughed at me. “Aw, the little baby is shaking,” Ann mocked.
“He has good reason to,” Mark said, “after his insults, he is going to get a much deserved lesson in respect.”
“Please, Sir, I greatly respect you.”
“Shut up. You insulted both my wife and me.”
“No, Sir, no sir.” I was nearly in tears.
Mark slapped me hard on the ass with the heel of his shoe. “I said to shut up. You have the nerve to disobey and argue with me?”
“Sorry, sir.”
“You will be.” The beating started. “You keep kissing your Mistress’ toes with the respect you failed to show us,” he yelled as he pounded my ass with his shoe. He slapped me hard with the shoe, the heel seeming to connect with the core of my ass, as I groaned from the thudding pain. The room was eerily quiet, only the slapping of leather against skin and my moans. Jeff had plopped his feet on my back using me as a footrest as he laid back and enjoyed watching me get worked over by his partner. I happened to catch a glance of his hand tickling Ann’s leg and I’m sure everyone was turned on by the show of force over me.
Betsy was standing in front of me. “I love watching the agony all over his face, honey,” she said calmly as I twisted and turned with each slam of the shoe.
“Are you getting turned on?” Jeff asked with glee.
“Jeff, you naughty boy,” Betsy answered. “Yes, I am.”
“So am I,” Ann said, her voice low and sultry. “This is great.”
Mark was relentless. By now I was nearly crazy with agony, I was sure my ass must have been colored a deep purple by now, even though it wasn’t…at least not yet. “Please, mercy, please, please,” was all I could scream.
“Quit making a racket,” Ann admonished, “suck on this.” She shoved her foot in my mouth to use as a gag as I stopped the begging and simply moaned, about to pass out from the pain. I sucked and choked on her foot and then suddenly Mark stopped.
“Wow,” he said, sounding stunned, “I can’t believe I did that.”
Betsy moved over behind me and touched my throbbing, bruised bottom. “I’d say you have a streak of sadism in you.” She gave him a big kiss. “Nice job.”
“Thanks, honey.” He handed her the shoe. “Want to see what it is like for yourself?
“Don’t mind if I do,” she answered with joy.
I wanted to shout out, please no, but knew that would most likely only agitate them. Ann pulled her foot out of my mouth and wiped it on my hair. “Yuck, he got his drool all over my foot, that’s almost as bad as stepping in dog crap.” Ann continued wiping her foot off on me like I was a rug.
“You can suck on my toes now, while Betsy has at you,” Jeff said, putting his foot in my mouth. “Suck and lick, clean the sweat from your Master’s feet.” Ann leaned back and like Jeff before, rested her feet on my back.
I started to work on Jeff’s malodorous foot as I sensed Betsy lining up behind me. I could feel her tapping the shoe against my ass, getting it into position. She brought the shoe leather down against me, the first blow tentative, not nearly as brutal as Mark’s strikes. “Come on, Betsy, you can do better than that.” Jeff wiggled his toe that was in my mouth as he said this.
“Give me a second, guys.” The next one was stronger, still somewhat tentative, but enough to cause me to jump slightly. Three firm ones in a row followed that one, all hitting the same spot, which really hurt and caused me to squirm and twist.
“Yes, that’s it,” Jeff yelled, “give it to him.”
Betsy was off and running, slamming me with the loafer as I grunted and moaned under the attack. After about five relentless minutes, Betsy, breathing hard, stopped. “That’s hard work. I’m like sweating.” Mark went over and embraced his wife, giving her a deep long kiss.
“I think it’s having the desired effect,” Mark said, winking at his hosts. “Why don’t you have dickhead clean off some of that sweat.”
“What do you mean?”
“Have him lick under your arms.”
“Hhm, okay.” Betsy stood in front of me, the sundress allowed access to her arm pits, she lifted one arm and simply said, “Lick.”
I sat up on my knees and began licking the warm, salty sweat from her armpit. I could taste a little bit of deodorant mixed in with her musk, but I never imagined licking another person’s armpit until that moment. I only licked for a few seconds before she pushed me away and back down onto my knees.
Betsy was now breathless from more than the physical effort of the beating. “Oh yeah, honey I’m definitely feeling it.” She put the shoe on my back and started making out with Mark. Jeff and Ann had also started making out as I kept in position, feeling my ass becoming bruised as I worshipped my Master’s feet. By now, I knew he liked to have me not only suck and lick between his toes, but to run my tongue along the sole of his foot, giving the rough bottom long slow licks, as I tried to mentally distance myself from the degrading, ignoble task of being used in such a degrading manner.
Mark led Betsy over to the sofa a little ways apart from the hosts and the two couples continued to explore each other as I tried my best to ignore the passions within the room, concentrating on Jeff’s feet as each couple moaned and kissed. I noticed Mark give Jeff the thumbs up signal as he kissed Betsy’s neck and looked over her shoulder at Jeff, Ann nibbling on her husband’s neck.
“This fucking rules,” Mark said. “After beating him, I feel like I do after a good workout.”
“I love the way you mastered that wimp,” Betsy said, tracing her finger along Mark’s chest. “You are so manly, strong, showing no mercy, showed your strength. Someone else would have caved in to the pussy’s whining.”
Ann broke her kiss with Jeff. “Isn’t it amazing, the power surge. I can’t imagine what it must be like to really own someone.”
Jeff said, “Baby, we pretty much own this one. Isn’t that right, toe jam sucker?”
“Yes, Sir.” I mumbled.
“And we have it all on tape. Maybe for our next party, we’ll play it.”
“I think we should play it for Joann,” Ann suggested. “Or maybe his son. Would you like that, slave?”
“Not really, Mistress,” I said weakly.
“Not really,” Ann said, mocking me with a sarcastic tone of voice, “what a fucking sissy.” Ann sat up and picked up the shoe off of my back. “A god-damn-sissy-,” she said, bringing the shoe down on my ass four hard times with each word as I yelped and bucked with each strike. Ann sat back and put her feet onto my back once again.
“You know what, all of this is making me hungry.” Jeff stretched his arms lazily before shoving me off the ottoman and onto the floor with his foot. “Serve us dinner, sissy.”
“Yes, Master.”
“You’re going to have him put something on, aren’t you?” Betsy asked, her voice filled with disgust making me feel even worse about my appearance. “I don’t want to have to look at his tiny thing while eating dinner.”
“Sissy, there is an apron in the drawer below where the baggies are kept.”
“After you get your apron, bring me my purse,” Betsy ordered.
I quickly did my bidding and returned to kneel in front of Betsy and hand her the purse. “Stand up,” she said curtly as she dug through her purse. “Model for us, sissy.”
I put on the white lace-trimmed apron, stood up and spun around.
“Curtsey for everyone,” Jeff ordered.
I held out the apron and did a small curtsey as best as I could for each person.
“Bend the knees more,” Ann commanded.
“Wait, before he does that, come here,” Betsy ordered. I went over to her. “Bend over so I can put this on.” In her hand she held a tube of lipstick that she proceeded to put on my lips, a bright pink lipstick. “Since it has touched your awful fucking lips, you owe me a tube of lipstick. It’s MAC.”
“Yes, Mistress Betsy,” I said, feeling my face turning from embarrassment.
“Go do your proper curtsey, show your owner how well you can do it.” I started to turn to curtsey when Betsy said, “Stop. Come here.” I turned to her and she wrote in lipstick with big letters the word, sissy on my chest. “It’s obvious to us, but in case you forget, what you are is right there in pink, a fucking sissy. Lowest on the food chain, meant to serve all others.”
I meekly nodded my head and turned towards Jeff and deeply curtsied. “What are you?” he asked.
By now that was a loaded question, I was a lot of things: His slave, a sissy, a wimp, a thoroughly beaten and degraded human. “I’m a sissy, Master, your slave, Sir.”
“You are whatever I want you to be,” Jeff said.
Ann giggled. “Sorry, honey, one thing he can’t be even if you told him to is be a real man. He is definitely a wimp and can’t be anything but that. Isn’t that right, sissy?”
“Yes, Mistress.” I curtsied for her.
“Now face the camera and curtsey and tell everyone what a sissy wimp you are.”
I faced the camera and said, “I am a sissy wimp.” I was sure this would eventually be seen and would be a source of great embarrassment.
Jeff finally announced that he had enough of this and said it was time to eat. For the next hour the group enjoyed their food as I waited upon them, keeping their water and wine glasses full and being attentive to their needs. They discussed business and other issues as if I wasn’t there. They had tired of playing their games with me and between the lateness of the night and the alcohol, greatly to my relief, things slowed down and they basically left me alone to concentrate on my servant duties.
Betsy and Mark finally decided to make it a night and said their goodnights, of course I had to kiss their feet one more time and put on their shoes and as they departed Betsy commented that they would be sure to come back and amuse themselves more with me. Ann telling her that I was available anytime she or Mark wished.
Ann and Jeff had embraced after shutting the door and were kissing as I knelt like an obedient dog at their heels. “All right, dickhead, before we retire to the upstairs and you get to work cleaning up the mess, I want you to assume the crab position,” Jeff announced with arrogant pleasure.
“Please, Sir,” I begged while immediately getting into position.
“Yes, slave, I hope you are begging for us to kick you hard. Anything else and I will consider it a demerit.”
I was going to beg for mercy, but I immediately knew that it was a useless thought. I said nothing.
“You were saying something, slave?” Jeff asked.
“No, Sir.” I could see the joy in Jeff’s eyes as I am sure he knew that I wanted to beg for mercy. I was in position, weight supported by my arms as I bent over in the crab position, my genitals completely exposed.
“Would you like to have the first honor?” Jeff asked Ann.
“Why thank you, dear.” Ann held her right foot over my face. “Kiss the foot that’s going to create so much discomfort for you.”
I craned my head upwards and kissed the bottom of her bare foot. She moved in front of me and quickly kicked me directly into the balls, white agony filling me as I twisted and turned from the pain, but remained in position as previously instructed by Jeff.
“Very
good, sissy,” he noted, “you remained in place.”
“Yes, Master” I gasped, “I
hope it pleased you.”
“Yes, I suppose it did.” He held his foot over my face and I kissed it as I had done for Ann.
He moved into position and waited a moment before letting loose with a vicious slam to my crotch with his foot. Again, I was ready to vomit the pain was so intense, but I remained in place as my two tormentors laughed at my agony.
“Ah, does that hurt our little sissy” Ann mocked in baby talk before embracing her husband. “Babes, you gotta fuck me right now, I’m horny as hell.”
“Let’s go.” Jeff and Ann made their way to the stairs. “Clean up down here. When you are done and if we hadn’t called for you, then you can lay down outside our door in case we need you throughout the night. Otherwise, you know the morning routine.”
“Yes, Master,” I said, grateful to finally being left alone even if it was only to clean.
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