Servant of Servants
- 3 years ago
- 24
- 0
Servant Of Servants free porn video
Servant of Servants
I nervously climbed the stairs and searched in dirty corridors smelling of refuse before I found the apartment. For my heartbeat to steady, I paused briefly before knocking, and noticed the television set playing inside. Some seconds later the door was opened by Sabrina, to whom I hadcome to offer myself as a slave.
She was carelessly dressed in cheap worn-out clothes, a knitted plaid
covering her shoulders; she was eating a sandwich and, chewing, looked at me for a few seconds, then asked me what I wanted, expressing disgust and boredom.
I candidly answered that I had been told she might accept me as her
slave. She swallowed, took another bite and, again chewing, grunted and indicated that I could follow her inside. She opened the toilet door and pushed me in, telling me to take off all my clothes and wait.
She locked me in and I took off my clothes and squatted on the cold,
tiled floor. I considered masturbating while kissing the toilet seat, to have some anticipated, indirect contact with my future mistress, but I understood how I would be punished if caught in such an act on the very first evening of my bondage, and so I only experienced the psychological satisfaction of feeling my penis hard with excitement between my legs.
I spent quite some time waiting idly for my new mistress: she watched
the television show I had so boldly interrupted. Then she came to the
toilet, opened it and walked a few steps towards the living room, where, slapping her thigh as if calling a dog, she told me to follow her, and I obeyed, crawling on all fours behind her, into her tiny living room, which was decorated with damp wallpaper and furniture fit for the rubbish heap.
She sat down in a chair, crossed her legs and ordered me to kneel
before her; she excelled at commanding, stating her wishes with such
energy that she could make mere words be as effective as a sharp blow of her clenched fist on a servant's genitals, which is no gratuitous
metaphor, during my brief subsequent servitude I had the opportunity to compare both and verify its literal truth.
I was ordered to look up into her eyes, which expressed superiority,
while my head remained at a few inches from the sole of her sandal; I
admired her heavy breasts and her strong arms, which she held crossed
under them, naked to the elbow; her muscles clearly betrayed that she
performed manual labour regularly.
Looking down on me, she asked me for my name, address, job, earnings
etc. in minute detail. My answers had to be polite, complete, concise
and clear, lest her shod foot would strike out over the few inches
separating it from my head, and throw me down on the dirty carpet, only for me to resume my position until the next kick.
Satisfied with my answers, she asked me whether I was sure of what I
was doing and I bent down before her while answering "yes", very close to the insteps of her feet; she repeated her question and, looking at her strong feet and painted toe-nails, I confirmed, she placed her right foot on my neck, the heel of its sandal touching my head. Thus annihilated under her foot, I felt delicious sexual excitement and pressed my erect penis to the floor.
Sentence by sentence, she dictated the oath I had to swear, in which I pledged my total obedience and submission to my mistress, whoever she might be in the future, and gave her unconditionally all rights: to use me, to sell me and to wound, maim or kill me, or to let someone else do these to me; I would accept that my Owners use me as an object.
When I had sworn this by Almighty God, she pulled away her foot and,
seeing me remain prostrate before her, she said I was now allowed to
kiss her foot once, so I pressed my lips to the tip of her right foot, the one which had crushed me, and kissed it along with the leather of her sandal, picking up a trace of cheap perfumed soap.
She pulled back her foot and explained that to kiss her feet was a
great reward I would have to deserve, since she personally quite
disliked the feeling; this prohibition extended to the soles of her feet and, more surprisingly, to the inner and outer soles of her sandals and shoes.
Then she told me that her evening job was to clean offices in a
certain building, and fixed our next appointment there, just before her working hours. In the toilet, she picked up my clothes and threw them out, and I followed them; while I dressed silently in the corridor, she forbade me to climax until the next meeting, and told me she would have me castrated if I disobeyed.
* * *
Although I intended to obey her, I climaxed repeatedly in my sleep (or at least that's my story), so, on the day of the appointment, I felt quite worried in the lift as I went up to the floor where Sabrina would meet me.
The door opened and she was standing there, waiting for me, now
wearing a green apron and holding a black leather whip. Taking the whip
in her right hand, she pointed it towards her feet, and I obeyed her in kneeling down just before her, but dared not press a kiss to the tips of her sandals.
She asked why I was still dressed and, when I wanted to answer, threw
the whip on my back and told me to keep quiet; the blow did not hurt me, for I was still protected by my clothes. She then ordered me to take them all off and I obeyed, rapidly taking off my jacket, tie, shirt, shoes, socks etc.
When I was almost naked another woman came in, Rita, a buxom brunette, also dressed in the regulation green apron, but I noticed she wore brown stockings and green sneakers. I hesitated, looking at Rita, but my mistress, turning back, saw her friend and told me I would serve her as a second mistress.
I took off my slip and tried to hide my nakedness a little, but
Sabrina said there would be no impropriety for me to be naked and
receive punishment in the presence of Rita; she then threw the lash
repeatedly on my back - the strokes were very painful now, but I
received them silently, prostrate at her feet.
She told me that my normal greeting of her at the beginning of my work would henceforth be to kiss her knees (under no circumstance her feet!), and I had to do so at once, pressing my lips to her kneecaps, with silent delight, touching her thighs with the tips of my fingers when my hands slid up under her apron.
After a few kisses she stopped me, making the word sound as a stroke
of the whip. I lay naked and vulnerable before her when she asked me
whether I had obeyed her and abstained from climaxing? She added to this that my punishment would be castration if I had disobeyed, but that it also certainly would be castration were I to lie.
Bending before her and apprehensively squeezing my penis between my
legs, I admitted guilt. She walked around me, to see me from behind, andordered me to open my legs: I knew that she was about to punish me, but nevertheless obeyed. She then kicked my testicles half a dozen times, hitting them with the tip of her right sandal, ignoring my cries of pain, then she announced that my actual punishment would be postponed, but that I really should obey her totally, even in her absence.
I was then set to work, performing the ladies' cleaning task on the
whole floor assigned to them. This was to become the core element of my bondage to Sabrina and Rita, they simply had me to all their work, and I was very happy to comply.
During the work, they ignored me most of the time, but every now and
then Rita would approach silently to inspect, and if I displeased her
she would suddenly throw the whip on my back to punish my shortcomings.
The women ordinarily chatted and gossiped together, so that I had to
listen carefully during work to notice if my Mistress Sabrina clapped
her hands once, thereby calling me to perform some menial task for her and Rita, like pouring out coffee or clearing the table.
Small mistakes in their personal service were punished by loud slaps
to my face, whereas mistakes in the cleaning were punished using the
whip: I then had to kneel at the feet of the lady who wanted to see me punished and I could look at them while the other lady would whip me. At the end of these punishments, Rita always allowed me to kiss the tips of her shoes.
When I have completed the chores, the women come to inspect my work;
they take me along with them and look at the different rooms I had to
clean, at the toilets and the cleaning tools. They carry out this
inspection barefoot, carrying their sandals so as not to leave any marks on the clean floor. I must lick clean all neglected, dirty spots they find, before being whipped on site for my carelessness.
Back at the lift, I kneel at the ladies' feet to wash them before
helping them put back on their shoes; I must use what is available, cold water and detergent soap. With Rita, I must take great care to dry her stockings too, the pleasure I feel when holding my ladies' feet and making myself useful to them far exceeds the pain of the corrections and the discomfort of the work. When my ladies' feet are clean, they put on their coats and leave. I can then also dress and take the next lift down.
* * *
At the end of the week, when the evening work was done, my Mistresses
briefly discussed what to do with me during the week-end; while I washed her feet, Rita recalled the ancient truth that a man alone is in bad company, so the ladies decided to toss a coin in order to determine who of them would take me along to her place until next Monday evening. Rita won (or maybe lost, from her viewpoint), I would stay with her.
Next, I crawled to Sabrina to wash her feet, too, regretting that she
never let me kiss them; with marked irony, she told Rita,
"Since you'll have the privilege of his presence, I'll just take this in compensation"
and picked my credit card from my jacket.
"Boy!"
She called me to attention, heavily pressing the sole of her
foot on my neck, increasing my erection even further.
"How much immediate credit does it have?"
"$6000, Mistress."
"That'll do."
I could hear her smile through her voice.
"What's the code?"
She increased the weight on my neck to ensure a speedy answer.
"Thirty-five twenty, Mistress."
"You IDIOT!"
She slapped the lash over the pink traces she had inflicted earlier, when Rita had found a stray cigarette end in a supposedly cleaned corridor.
"Couldn't you have changed that to something easier to remember?"
I remained silent: there was no reasoning
against the charge.
"Thirty-five twenty" Sabrina repeated to herself, while Rita had me
stand up before her, still naked, untied her belt and slipped it around my neck, to use it as a rudimentary lead.
"Thirty-five twenty" Sabrina repeated,
leaving, and Rita had me take my clothes along with me; we took the following lift down to the underground parking and, while I was afraid that someone might stop the lift on its way down and see us, Rita just carelessly took hold of my
testicles and squeezed them a little.
In the parking, she took me to her car and had me put my clothes in
the boot, then told me to get in there too, and I had to curl up as well as possible, wedging myself between my clothes and sundry old rags and mechanic tools and the spare tyre before she could close the boot.
She was in no hurry, knowing that I was safely locked up; I heard her
switch on the radio and she probably smoked a cigarette before even
starting the car. Then she drove away, quite slowly, maybe because she thought I might be hurt by the disparate rubbish I shared the boot with; in the meantime, I recalled how my Mistresses had bossed me around and I slowly masturbated thinking of them, especially of Rita, who was certainly the most attractive in her unsophisticated bounciness; then I wiped off the semen with one of the rags.
Finally, we arrived at our destination, and she got out of the car to
let me out of the boot; we were in another underground parking lot, and she had me follow her up to her apartment, which, I found out later, was situated in a council estate building neighbouring Sabrina's.
Still being pulled by the improvised lead, still naked and holding my
rolled-up clothes, I was led into her apartment, where she untied my
neck and resolutely grabbed my penis to pull me behind her into her
bedroom.
There, she turned to me, pushing her large breasts against me, and
looked me in the eyes; she placed her hands on my shoulders, as shorter women do when they want to be kissed, but pressed them down a little, indicating that I should kneel down. When my head was at the height of her navel, she placed her hands on me and again slightly pushed me, so I went further down, all the way to her knees and her ankles, and then she placed her shod right foot on my head and pushed it completely to the
floor:
"That's your place, boy, never forget it!"
Then she let me untie her shoe-laces and take off her shoes; I
delighted in handling her elegant little stockinged feet, and
spontaneously pressed my lips to their insteps while supporting their
soles, but she soon kicked me away and added two firm kicks to my
genitals in order to calm me down, which worked.
Then she directed me to her wardrobe where I had to fetch some party
clothes for her: stiletto-heeled patent leather mules and an assorted
micro-skirt and skimpy top. Next, I helped her in taking off her
stockings and working clothes and putting on the new items; she sat down before a mirror and had me brush her hair while she selected cheap, plastic jewels that might gain splendour under erratic lighting, and put on excessive make-up.
Before leaving on her clicking stiletto heels, she guided me into the
living-room and, holding my testicles, instructed me to clean her small apartment; as a reward, I would be allowed to polish her collection of boots afterwards.
"But not before EVERYTHING's clean!"
she added, tugging at my scrotum.
Those were easy orders to obey - one need not be a quantum physicist
to vacuum carpets properly - and two hours later I could sit down on the bedroom floor, naked, and start a minute polishing of my Mistress' boot collection, none of which was actually in need of treatment, but I enjoyed imagining Rita wearing them, and myself imploring her, prostrate at her feet.
Lizbeth
- 15.05.2022
- 22
- 0
