The story of how I became a foot slave might seem untrue, or at the least, exaggerated, but I am here to tell you that what I say is 100% true.
I was in Memphis on a regular business trip that I take semi-annually. It usually lasts 5-8 days, only this time was different. I entered this beautiful, illustrious city a free man. I am a serious, intellectual, and dominant alpha male by nature, but unbeknownst to me, I would leave the city that had a rich history of slavery, as a slave of sorts myself.
After my first day there, I entered a café for some refreshment and relaxation after a long day of working. I sat down and ordered a drink and a delicious juicy burger with fries. Just as I was about to take my first bite, I hear the most sultry, seductive voice say, as casually as can be, “Now bow down to your Mistress and beg for release.”
I froze, and looked up to see a beautiful, aristocratic blond southern woman sitting at the table in front of me, facing me while talking on her phone. She had her feet up on the chair that was in between our two tables. She noticed me and smiled at me while I heard her tell the person on the other line to kiss her feet. I smiled back weakly and started eating my food. I was shocked by her callous orders to her phone mate, but admittedly slightly aroused.
I had always felt compelled to obey women and for some reason the sight or smell of women’s feet or shoes made it more intense. I didn’t know why I was that way but I knew it was wrong and fought it all my life and, due to my superior intellect and extraordinary willpower, I was successful in stifling these desires.
However, at this moment, I was enraptured by this woman’s glory and dominance. Like it or not, I couldn’t seem to take my eyes off of her incredibly beautiful feet. I listened intently to her phone conversation as she consistently humiliated and verbally berated the poor fellow on the other line, often laughing at his reactions. I was completely entranced by it and seemed to have forgotten to eat my food. Instead, I listened to her talk on the phone as I stared intently at the bottom of her shoes as she she kept twirling her foot and dangling her shoe off her toes.
About 15 minutes later she ended the call, got up and sat down at my table. “My phone conversation interest you, dear?” she asked laughingly.
“No, no, not all, my apologies,” I stammered, trying desperately to regain composure. “Oh, yes it did, silly boy. Look, you even forgot to eat. But that’s ok, perhaps I’ll let you eat it later,” she said. She gracefully took my drink and began to sip it. I am not usually a man of few words, but at that moment I was frozen by fear and completely tongue-tied.
There was a heavy and intoxicating feeling flowing through my mind and body that I couldn’t identify. Later, this Femdom Mistress would identify the feeling as “submission.”
As we left the café, we walked the two blocks to the bus stop. She’d ordered me to walk behind her and never raise my eyes past her butt. Every few steps, I saw pieces of my food falling to the ground and the Mistress stepping into it, then leaning down and scooping it back up with a spoon she’d apparently carried with her from the restaurant.
The first time it happened I rushed forward to help her pick it up and she harshly commanded me to get back behind her. Baffled, I did what she said to do; it felt good to follow her command. When the food kept falling and she kept stepping into it, I soon lost sight of the food and merely watched the dance her feet did on the sidewalk. She pressed, twisted, squished, and stomped the remnants of my burger and fries. At least she was being good about picking it back up, right?
Once we were on the bus back to her house, she handed me the crumpled paper that held the trampled food and told me to eat it. All. In public. On the bus. I should have been shocked and horrified, but instead I felt so beaten and so submissive to her, I didn’t even try to resist.
Through a pretty part of Memphis to her home, I ate the food and her shoe-dirt seasoning in silence as she watched and smiled contently.
I now belong to an amazing Mistress. Completely. I am her foot slave now and I shall never leave her. She is my rock and I am her foot stool.