Slaveduties BDSM Blog of a 24/7 slave

I found this picture while browsing google image search poking and prodding around for naughty things to look at. I’ve always had a foot fetish myself, which I’m thankful for simply because I can’t think of anything more slave-like than the worship of your Mistress/Masters’s feet. It has always been a sign of lowlyness, and I believe always will. Yet feet, especially those of women seem to mean something more to me than just simply the act of servitude towards them. I believe that female feet in and of themselves represent female sexuality! An arched foot, as displayed here has all the curves, and bumps and complexity of a female body. I see it as a representation of the full female form. Voluptuous, purposeful, erotic, dainty, and strong. Especially when encapsulated within a unforgivingly tight and stiff high heel, with no platform and a 6 inch heel. I am now as comfortable walking in heels this debilitating as I am walking barefoot - in fact much of the time I am more comfortable when I am in heels.

I’ve stared at this picture long and hard, for what seems like an enormous amount of time now. Everytime my eyes shift and focus on a new part of either foot, I notice some new complexity, some new curve to stir the waters inside me. I catch myself dreaming and wishing, fantazing - and unfortunatly, I prefer female feet. It doesn’t mean I haven’t worshipped male feet, I just prefer female feet! Now I haven’t thought about my own preferences in a while and so I thought this is a damn good oppurtunity!

As I was sitting here fantasizing about these gorgeous feet, my hand slowly creeped down, and involuntarily began rubbing my first and index fingers on either lip of my pussy. At that moment, the new house slave walked by, holding a stack of plates. I ordered her to sit on the couch, and while I think she was confused, she obeyed - her training is coming along marvelously - and I got on all fours, unlocked the straps attaching her very own 6 inch heels to her feet, pulled one foot out of its encasing, and since she has been wearing them 24/7 for several weeks now her feet have begun to stay arched permanently…exactly what I hoped and expected.

I kept the ball of her foot just 2 to 3 inches off the floor, so that I would have to get low. Very low to enjoy the unbelievably soft skin right behind her toes, on the ball of her foot. I got very low, extending my tongue and let it sit there on the ball of her foot, cupping it slightly. I massaged it back and forth slowly - relishing the taste that inevitably creeped into my mouth. It was delicious. I withdrew my head, keeping my tongue out so it dragged up underneath her big toe - then went back down. and repeated the process for each toe. I had worshipped feet for hours at a time in my past. I pride myself in the ability to make a female cum just by worhsipping her feet. Feet are one of the most under-rated and under appreciated errogenous zones on the body - for male or female!

I heard her panting softly, she had barely been touched by human hands in a sensual way since her arrival here. Her sex was at a peak, she had been denied - for new slaves always serve better when they are horny. I was submitted to this several times before, so I knew exactly what she was going through. Every touch, every thought could easily bring her to the very brink of a body shattering orgasm. And so it did. As my tongue started from the back of her heel, all the way down her soft soles, up the ball of her foot, and as I took her big toe into my mouth, and indulged myself on it, forcing it deep into my mouth as if it were a cock I were sucking - I felt the tell-tale quaking in her legs, the quivering, as her orgasm was about to crest into a full-fledged storm akin to a hurricane finally making land-fall.

I could tell she was fighting a losing battle against dropping her stack of plates, keeping her moans silent, keeping from shaking too much, I could tell she was terrified about having an orgasm - she knew she had not earned it yet. And I had gone and given her one due to my own greed. It would be our secret.

I got up on my knees, and held her ankle in both hands - pressed the top of her foot hard into my pussy, and began humping it. I humped, and grinded, I could tell she was sitting in absolute shock as I fucked her foot. I stared at her smiling - enjoying this new naughtiness I felt, this new sense of power began to overwhelm me. She was the slave now - she had no choice but to indulge me. I was in control. The juices flowed down every side of her foot as my body exploded into orgasm after what felt like just mere seconds after I began fucking her foot.

When my body ceased quivering - I knelt again, licking my juices from her foot. I felt love between us - a commeradery. I licked myself off her slowly and gently, tasting my taste mix with hers. I placed her shoe back on, and replaced the small padlock to keep it in place. I got up and kissed her forehead, and made her kneel in and give my clitoris an eskimo kiss with her nose. This was our litle secret, and perhaps we could repeat it!

Master came home several hours later - my power trip had long ended - and I was tending to my own chores…he walked in I knelt before him and I told him the story I just wrote here. He wasn’t angry with me - he was proud of me. He was happy that I took advantage of my new found freedoms. And I realised that he knew that I could read and understand his slaves better than he could - because of my own journies.

Never the less - he took both me and the house-slave, brought along the puppy to watch - and he attached chastity devices to both me and the house slave - and took away my keys that could open up any of the house-slaves bondage devices, including her shoes. He then brought us inside, and made me watch - as he coated her gorgeous mat black 6" stiletto locking heels in a lacquer that you would coat furniture with, and before it could dry, he stuck an upside down thumbtack in 1 inch intervals over her entire shoes, essentially turning her shoes into little porcupines.

Our punishment was due. He let the finish dry, and made her kneel on her knees, so that her shoes inevitably would touch her bare ass. As her ass began to touch her shoes (and therefore the thumbtacks) her pain became obvious - she began writhing against her bonds, and screaming from behind the gag that had become more or less permanent in her mouth since she arrived. Master kissed her forehead and put pressure on her shoulders to push her down fully onto her own thumbtack coated shoes. And as her knees bent fully, and she compressed fully onto her shoes, here eyes became wide for a moment, and then lowered quickly…she had accepted her punishment.

I felt bad…very bad….worst than bad…she did not deserve this punishemnt - it was my fault, I had done all of this. Master knew it - but inevitably had to teach her what disobeying meant.

He turned to me and said "I’ll deal with you tomorrow…" and sauntered off into his office.

Oh god…