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Old 12-Jan-18, 02:50
jahampanah jahampanah is offline
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Default Re: Femdom Stories of mine

Story Name: Racquetball Bet
Author: Unknown

Chapter 2

After a few moments to calm myself a bit I turned and crawled off to the kitchen. I could feel the gazes of my mother and sister on me as I disappeared through the adjoining doorway and could hear their whispering but not their words. I knew they were talking about me though, and about what had just happened and for some reason that made me blush all the more and kept my little erection hard and excited.

I stood up in the kitchen in order to get things ready; the cupboards with the dishes and glasses way out of reach from my knees. It was easy enough of course, but it excited me having been ordered to do these things, setting the table, getting the food ready while my mother and Lisa leisurely lounged in the living room watching television. Plus, keeping my mother’s dirty flip-flop in my mouth throughout was such a turn on!

I could taste the grit and dust on the sole with my tongue and could not help but lick as I held it in my mouth. It did not smell beyond the distinctive rubber scent, but I could see the dark imprints of my mother’s feet on the white insole, the dainty black spots where her toes pressed down from countless wearings. I could not believe the effect of so simple a thing was having on me and I wondered if maybe Lisa had been correct in that I was a ‘foot freak’.

I was young but not naive. I had done my share of ‘porn’ surfing on the Net and had made my way onto some of the countless sites catering to Domination, Bondage, Submission and Foot Fetishes. I had to admit that I was more than a little bit intrigued, though dismissed any real desire as the shock of curiosity, though now I had to wonder. I was generally a quiet kid, but was that because I was secretly submissive? Had those web sites sparked some inner craving that I had not known existed? I was definitely getting off at being ordered around and even the humiliation, and it was glaringly obvious that I loved feet. Mom had proven that with a simple twirl of her shapely ankle.

She and Lisa were obviously enjoying having me at their beck and call as much as I was loving the ‘abuse’. I had to wonder though just how far they were going to take our little game. We had a whole week ahead of us before I would be freed from the wager of our bet. Seven days before I would get a chance at a rematch at racquetball and maybe turn the tables. Did I want too? Right then and there the answer was ‘No’. I wanted this feeling to last.

But enough with the self-analyzation. I had the table ready in minutes and got back down onto my hands and knees and crawled to the doorway. “Nnnnrrrs rrreee…” I mumbled around the flip-flop. I heard my mother and sister laugh as I scrambled back to the table and quickly got into position, on my knees with my head bowed awaiting my ‘masters’.

Mom and Sis both came in still dressed in their robes and barefoot. Lisa chuckled to see me kneeling as ordered beside the table and Mom scratched her fingers through my hair in passing as she went to her chair. “Good boy,” she said and I could hear the smile in her voice. “The ice water’s a nice touch,” she continued as she took her seat, “and I’m glad you obeyed. Everything looks good.”

I was beaming with pride at my mother’s praise as I heard the two of them dig in. I was happy that I had pleased her and wanted to do so again. I also realized that I was hungry too but said nothing. I had not eaten since lunch and hearing then eat only made that matter worse for me. I tried to distract myself, listening to their casual conversation and with my head bowed staring at their feet. Mom had her legs crossed and her foot was lazily bobbing almost right in front of me. Lisa’s feet were crossed at the ankles and tucked back under the chair but I still had an unobstructed view.

Mom must have realized what I was looking at as she said: “Put my thong on the floor, then get under the table on your back. My feet are a bit chilly so you can warm them up instead of just sitting there like a useless lump.”

Lisa snorted out a laugh as I complied, bending low first to gently set the flip-flop on the floor, then crawling under the table and onto my back. The tiles were cool to my bare skin and I flinched a bit at first contact as I scooted under mom’s raised feet. I thought she would set them on my chest so that I could massage them, but to my shock and surprise they descended right onto my face.

I saw that her soles were filmy gray with dust from the living room carpet right before I shut my eyes. Her heels settled on my sockets, her insteps pressing the sides of my nose while the balls of her feet rested on my lips. Mom flexed and wiggled her toes and they flicked at my chin. I heard Mom giggle as she shifted her feet a bit to get comfortable.

“That’s better. Poor baby,” she cooed. “Do my feet stink?” she asked, squeezing my nose closed then allowing me a deep breath. They still smelled of her body wash though, clean and fresh.

“Nnnn Mmmm…” I mumbled under her feet, effectively gagged.

“Hmm… I bet they’re dirty though. Put that tongue of yours to use, slave and lick my feet clean while we finish eating.” I stifled a groan as Mom raised her feet just enough for me to slip my tongue out and start licking.

I was rock hard and in heaven as I licked away, lavishing my mother’s feet with as much devotion as I could muster. They were dusty as expected, but I did not care, licking at the dirt and swallowing without a second thought. Mom shifted her feet around to allow me access, directing me where she wanted me to clean and I followed her unspoken commands without question.

It was just a few moments later when I felt Lisa’s feet plant on my belly. She wiggled her toes and scratched at my skin with her toenails, which sent a pleasurable shiver though me like a jolt of electricity. I whimpered as she then slid her right foot back, down my belly and over my panty-covered penis.

“Jeez, Mom. He’s hard as a rock!”

“Lisa! Are you playing with him?” Mom raised her voice but I could hear the laughter in her tone.

“No… Well, maybe a little.” They both laughed as Lisa’s foot pressed into my groin eliciting another moan from me. She rubbed a bit, which caused me to lick all the harder, then abruptly stopped probably realizing that I was close to exploding. I moaned again of course, close to the brink and suddenly denied.

“He’s got a hot tongue,” Mom said after awhile. “Just like his father.”

My eyes popped open wide even as Lisa shouted, “What?” I barely clamped my eyes shut again as Mom pressed her feet back down on my face.

“Your father had a thing for feet too,” she continued. “He loved to kiss and lick my feet, among other things. Not quite as submissive as your brother here seems to be, but still…” There was a silence at the table for a long minute, nothing but the sound of my heavy breathing under Mom’s feet. Mom chuckled. “Must be hereditary.”

“Wow,” Lisa finally said as she scrunched her toes on my stomach. “Kind’a grosses me out picturing you and Dad having sex, but it’s kind’a kinky-cool too. You never said anything before.”

“Because it was none of your business, young lady.” I heard the emphasis on the ‘young’.

After another pause, Lisa pressed on and I could hear the curious excitement in her voice. I was curious too. It was a side to Mom and Dad neither of us had a clue existed. “So, you were like his Mistress or something?”

“God, no.” Mom laughed. “Your father just liked a little kink. And I did too, but we kept it in the bedroom. He was all man the rest of the time, but when we were having fun- and not every time- he liked me to take charge.”

“Did you tie him up and stuff? Whips and chains and all that?” Mom laughed again, shifting her feet and I groaned as her heel ground into my eye. My jaws and tongue were starting to ache from the licking and Mom must have sensed me lagging as she set her left foot on the floor and slid the right squarely over my face pressing down on my nose,

“Kiss!” she commanded and I did. She let me get my rhythm then turned her attention back to Lisa. "I tied him up a few times but more to tease him than as a torture. Neither of us were into pain, so no. No ‘whips and chains. And he tied me up a couple of times too, but it was definitely better for both of us with him helpless.” Lisa’s foot moved down to my crotch again and started to press and rub once more.

“He’s dripping,” she said with a giggle, “and still stiff. He must love this.”

“I’m sure he does,” Mom agreed and I looked up to see her glancing under the table. She grinned wickedly as she took in the sight of me almost naked and under their feet. I looked up with pleading eyes and she shifted her gaze to Lisa’s foot massaging me. Her smile widened.

“Bet our little slave boy would like to cum, wouldn’t he?” I nodded as best I could still kissing the sole of my mother’s foot. “Too bad. Slaves don’t get what they want; only what their masters give them. Better stop Lisa.”

Mom’s face disappeared as they both removed their feet. I moaned in frustration and heard them both chuckle. “Get out from under there and back on your knees, loser.” I did as Mom ordered and was soon kneeling beside the table, flushed and actually sweating. My face must have been smudged with the dust from mom’s feet and we could all see the damp bulge in my panties. I was burning with humiliation and excited beyond belief.

Mom picked up her flip-flop then slid her chair back and stood with Lisa following suit. “Eat what’s left, “ she said, “then clean up this mess and go to bed. I want you up at seven tomorrow. Shower and have breakfast ready for me at eight; eggs scrambled and toast. Not too much butter. And coffee, definitely.”

“Me too,” Lisa chimed in as both women towered over me. I yelped as Mom suddenly slapped her flip-flop between my shoulder blades. It stung, but I had not been expecting it and lurched forward thumping my head against the table’s edge.

“And no playing with yourself tonight, either,” Mom said as she brushed past me, she and Lisa both heading out of the kitchen. “I’ll be checking in the morning, slave and your bed better be clean… or else.”

And on that ominous note they were gone. I was still breathing hard from my ordeal and it took real will power not to touch myself. God I wanted to and just thinking back at the night’s experiences kept me raging. Finally though I calmed down enough to stand without the soft caress of the panties taking me over the edge.

I stared at the table happy that I was allowed to eat but frowned to see what was left. There was a little water left in their glasses from the ice, which had melted. The potato chips were gone, and the little bit of chicken that we had leftover from last night’s dinner had been almost picked clean. Mom and Lisa both had left just a little meat on the bones that they had eaten from. And they had eaten from all the bones.

I stared dumbly at the scraps that they had left me. I would have to eat from the bones that they had eaten from and there was barely enough for a couple mouthfuls all told. Certainly not enough to stave off my hunger, but hungry I was. I stood right there gnawing on the bones both ashamed and excited and thinking Mom knew more about domination than she let on.

After quickly cleaning the kitchen and a quick trip to the bathroom about twenty minutes later found me finally in my room and longing for bed. Mom had one more surprise waiting for me though. The sneakers she had worn that day at racquetball were sitting on my pillow along with a note, which read:

‘Good slaves DO get rewarded. Lick my shoes clean inside and out, then hold them close while you sleep. Your Master.’

I stared at the shoes licking my lips and feeling my erection stirring again. I picked them up and held them close to my face immediately smelling the scent of the worn leather and the lingering odor of her dried sweat from the insides. Mom had had the shoes for months and they smelled of her and I could see dirty smudges on the toes and in the creases where they bent with her foot. The soles were filthy and I knew that I would be working hard for awhile to get them clean before I could finally sleep.

I knew that despite my excitement if I laid down I would nod off before finishing my final chore. I was tired, both physically and emotionally, so in the end I knelt down beside the bed and brought Mom’s right shoe to my mouth and started to lick.

And I could swear in the otherwise silent night that I could hear my mother just a room away: moaning…


Morning came all too soon and harshly to the annoying blare of my alarm clock. I groaned as I rolled over and hit the button to silence the noise then groggily dragged myself out of bed knowing that if I didn’t get moving I would easily fall back to sleep. Sitting on the edge of the bed I rubbed my face and knuckled my eyes, exhausted and trying to will myself to wake up. My jaws and tongue still hurt from all the licking I had done the night before, but it was a good ache remembering the exciting time we all had; my mother, sister and I. I glanced down and could see my mother’s clean sneakers placed dutifully on the floor beside my bed and smiled.

And of course as the memories came flooding back, so did my tiny erection. I was still wearing my sister’s panties, which left little to the imagination, but even in the dark I could see the bulge, though a good part of it was a need to pee. That thought was enough to finally get me to my feet and moving.

Through the slits in my window blinds I could see that it was still dark out as I shambled across my bedroom floor and flicked on my light. I opened the door and made my way quietly down the hall and into the bathroom closing that door and turning on that light not wanting to disturb my ‘masters’. I sighed with relief as I did my morning duty then moved to the sink to wash up. The cold water felt good and as I came more and more awake I felt refreshed as well; washing away the grit and grime from my time on the floor the night before. I only then realized how the smell of my mother’s sweaty sneakers had clung to me and I could still taste her in my mouth as well, at least until I brushed my teeth. Finally feeling clean I made my way to the kitchen.

Oddly I smelled the wonderful aroma of coffee then saw the light was on in the kitchen. As I rounded the corner I was surprised to find my mother already there sitting at the kitchen table and sipping a cup of coffee while reading the morning newspaper. She was wearing a satiny blue kimono robe and her old, black terrycloth slippers. Her hair was loose and a bit tousled, and she had on no make-up though she looked as though she had washed off like I had. She looked up from her paper and flashed me a smile.

“Good morning, Jay,” she said pleasantly as she folded the paper and set it aside. I wondered what was up as she called me by my name rather than ‘Loser’ or ‘slave’.

“Good morning, ma’am,” I said with a slight bow. I saw her smirk even as she raised a hand to wave me off.

“Hold on. I want to have a little talk first, mother to son. Pour yourself some coffee and have a seat.” I did as she said filling my over-sized mug and then sitting opposite her at the table. She watched me as I took a long drink and sighed before setting the cup down, licking my lips. It was good and strong and much needed.

“I had a little chat with Lisa before bed, about last night and this week,” she began, eyeing me as though looking for a reaction. “I wanted to talk to you too. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea and I definitely don’t want things to go too far. I do want you to be honest, Jay, okay?”

“Sure, Ma’am,” I said and she shook her head.

“Right now I’m Mom.”


We both took another sip of coffee and I could feel the caffeine churning through me, my relatively empty stomach soaking up the drug and helping me wake up. I could see my mother watching me as I fidgeted, she gathering her thoughts before she finally spoke.

“How do you feel about what happened last night?” she asked somewhat hesitantly it seemed.

“I dunno…” I said sheepishly, blushing a bit under her scrutiny. “It was fun I guess. Not what I was expecting, that’s for sure.” Mom chuckled.

“Me either. And it was fun for me and Lisa too.” She paused and stared at me a moment, then: “You obviously got excited. So did we and that’s what concerns me. I don’t want you to… I don’t want this to go too far… sexually I mean… Damn. I had a little speech all prepared in my head and now…”

I looked at her and shifted uncomfortably in my chair again. I knew what she was getting at. I had been hard the entire night last night, and apparently both my mother and sister had ‘enjoyed’ my attentions a bit too much. I remembered the sounds coming from my mother’s room next door to mine as I was licking her sneakers clean and knew that she had been ‘getting off’. I blushed even more as I followed that train of thought to the logical destination.

“Jeez… Mom… No.” I saw she was blushing now and smiling sheepishly as she caught my gaze.

“It’s just… things could easily get out of hand. Go too far. I don’t want you, or any of us to think this is sexual. I mean… well, it is to a point, but I don’t want it to go beyond… I don’t want you to think…” She sighed, biting her lip looking for the right words. “No sex,” she finally spat out, her already flushed skin darkening.

It was my turn to think and fumble for the right words as I recalled the events of the night before. The things they had done to me and made me do HAD excited me, and I realized just how hot both my mother and sister were, but I had never throughout the night wanted sex with either of them. Thinking of it right then seemed gross, and I told her so.

“Mom… I never once thought that last night. Sure I got excited, but it was all cuz of the things you were doing to me. It was hot being ordered around and… y’know… slaving for you. I don’t know why. But I never thought about sex with either of you.” Mom just stared at me for awhile, then took another long drink of coffee, emptying her cup. She held the empty mug out to me.

“Get me a refill,” she said and I immediately jumped to the task. As I was pouring with my back to her I heard the sound of a lighter flicking and smelled smoke. I turned, shocked to see my health conscious mother puffing a cigarette to life. I knew she used to smoke, but thought that she had given up the nasty habit years ago. I stared as she sensuously took a long drag then breathed out a roiling cloud of blue smoke as I set her mug on the table before her and took my seat. Her red, manicured nails glistened as she casually flicked ash into a small, metal ash tray that had appeared on the table and figured she must have had them all secreted in the pockets of her robe; tray, lighter and cigarettes. She breathed a heavy sigh.

“That’s good,” she finally continued breaking the awkward silence. “Now, I’m not saying that it’s wrong to get excited. Like I told Lisa last night, your father and I played some kinky games once in awhile. We both had fun, and as husband and wife went the extra mile. But as son, mother, sister, well… that’s not going to happen. I’m glad you understand and feel the same way.”

“Sure.” I watched Mom take another drag and blow smoke off to the side. She seemed a bit more relaxed now, and I could feel that she was kicking her crossed leg under the table.

“I wanted to give you the chance to back out though. A bet’s a bet, but we won’t feel any less of you if you think it might be a problem. We’ll be putting you through your paces and making you do things that might make you… uncomfortable. I know you’re submissive. I realized it last night, and I know that being ordered around and even humiliated excites you. It excited me and Lisa too, don’t get me wrong. I…” she paused, pursing her lips, “pleasured myself last night. I’m sure Lisa probably did too. And I know you probably wanted to. Did you?”

I flushed red and felt my skin heat up as I swallowed. “No. You told me not to.” Mom smiled.

“Good boy. Bottom line though; do you want to go through with this? I told Lisa the ground rules and she pretty much said the same as you. No sex. Lisa and I will probably be pleasuring ourselves, and if you’re good maybe we’ll let you too, but otherwise you’ll be slaving and suffering and celibate.” She grinned. “Can you deal with that?”

“Yeah,” I said after a moment and downing the last of my coffee.

“You’re sure? We will be cruel. I plan on enjoying the week and working your ass off. And if you don’t act right you will be punished. We’ll probably make you do some embarrassing things. Last chance…”

“Mom,” I said getting up and moving around the table. I swallowed and knelt down beside her chair, hanging my head. “I won’t welch on the bet. I lost and I want to be your slave.” She chuckled again.

“Good,” she said blowing a cloud of smoke in my face and laughing as I coughed. “So, mother, son time is over. Master, slave time starts now. Kiss my feet, slave boy to seal the deal.”

Mom shifted in her chair and placed both feet flat on the floor as I bent low. I could smell her scent in the old, worn slippers as I leaned in. She had had the slippers for months and I was pretty sure had never washed them, always wearing them everyday around the house. I could smell the stale, sweaty odor as I planted kisses on the toecaps of her shoes. After a moment she simply got up and stepped around me.

“Get to work then. I’m going to shower and get ready for work. After breakfast, Lisa is in charge. I left a list of chores on the fridge, but you do what she says. You’ll be working in the yard today.” And with that she stepped out of the room, her robe swirling about her legs as she left…


Since I had cleaned up the night before and the coffee was already made there was little for me to do for awhile. Lisa would not be up for a couple hours yet, maybe not until after Mom left for work and it was too early to start the simple breakfast they had requested. I went off to take my shower then figured to do some dusting or something from the long list of chores that mom had written up or until it was time to start cooking.

As expected Lisa was still asleep as I saw no light seeping from the bottom of her door. I heard Mom’s shower in her bedroom going so knew that I had a few minutes at least to myself. Once in the bathroom I slipped out of Lisa’s panties and frowned to see the stain from my precum from last night. I assumed that I was still supposed to wear them, but they definitely needed washing and soon. I would ask my Master Mother later what to do, as that seemed a decision for her to make.

After a quick, cool shower however it seemed she already had; stepping out of the curtained tub I saw a pair of lacy black panties sitting on the closed toilet. As usual Mom was one step ahead of me. I dried off and stepped into her panties then headed back into the hall towards the kitchen when I heard my mother’s voice:

“Come in here, slave.”

I stepped into my mother’s bedroom and saw her sitting at her vanity putting on her make-up. I was a little embarrassed to find her wearing just a black bra and slip as she eyed me in the mirror and smirked.

“What? No bow?” she said and I quickly went to attention and bent at the waist. I heard her chuckle as I apologized.

“A good slave should always bow to his master. Don’t forget again. Now go pick up my bathroom.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” I said bowing again and hurrying to do as she commanded.

Her small bathroom wasn’t really dirty but she had simply cast off her robe, nightgown and slippers to the floor along with the towel she had used after her shower. There was a washrag wadded up in the bottom of the tub, which I used to quickly wipe down the still dripping walls. I hung her kimono on the hanger behind the door then gathered the towel and washrag in one hand, draped her nightie over my arm and picked up her slippers before returning to her room remembering to bow.

Mom was brushing her hair still at the vanity and again eyed my reflection with a smile. “Put my slippers beside my bed, then take the rest to the laundry. Then come back here.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” I said, bowing. I set her slippers down and hurried off.

I went to the basement where the washer and dryer were and put the towel in one hamper then folded my mother’s nightgown and placed it in the basket with her and Lisa’s delicates. I knew by the job list that laundry was scheduled for tomorrow so I hung the rag to dry on one of the lines that were strung up along one side of the room near the windows lining the front of the house. Mom liked certain things to dry by hanging, so in winter and on rainy laundry days she used the lines in the cellar with the windows flung wide. I opened one window then rushed back upstairs and to my mother’s room again.

Thankfully I found her mostly dressed when I returned with a bow. She was sitting on the edge of her unmade bed wearing a blue skirt and gray blouse, the matching blazer draped across the back of her vanity chair. She had her dark nylon-clad legs crossed and was bobbing a foot, twirling her ankle and holding a dark blue pump in her hand. “Took you long enough,” she said with amusement as she held out her shoe to me. “Make yourself useful, loser.”

I dropped to my knees before my sexy mother and took the offered shoe. I could feel my erection stirring again as she pointed her toes towards me. I licked my lips with excitement fascinated by the dark red polish on her toenails as I slipped the shoe gently onto her foot with a ‘shush’. Mom didn’t hesitate a moment, casually recrossing her legs and producing the other shoe, which I lovingly placed onto her other foot.

Mom twisted her foot left and right before my face as I stupidly knelt there, almost hypnotized by her pretty foot and uncertain what to do next. I knew what I wanted to do, but being a slave could not take liberties. “Well?” she said finally and I looked up to her grinning face. She extended her leg until the sole of her shoe was blocking my vision.

“Kiss it,” she ordered. I leaned in and did just that, tasting the dirt and grit as I lovingly pressed my lips to her shoe’s sole. She laughed happily and after a moment shoved me back, pushing on my face before standing up. Towering over me she ordered me off to go make breakfast for the two of us, as Lisa was still not up. She then strolled into her bathroom and shut the door leaving me to my duties.
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Old 14-Jan-18, 06:05
jahampanah jahampanah is offline
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Default Re: Femdom Stories of mine

Story Name: Racquetball Bet
Author: Unknown

Chapter 3

Breakfast was easy enough; scrambled eggs, toast, orange juice and coffee as requested. I had everything ready with two places set on the kitchen table when mom came striding into the kitchen table to find me waiting at attention by her chair. She smiled as I bowed and slid her chair out for her to sit, then slid it forward after she did. I then went to take my seat when she stopped me.

“What are you doing?” she asked giving me a stern look.

“I thought I was supposed to eat too,” I said, quickly adding, “Ma’am.” Mom heaved a put upon sigh and shook her head.

“Just because I’m letting you eat with me doesn’t mean I want some filthy, shoe kissing slave sitting at my table.” I actually shivered at Mom’s berating words and of course my hard on sprang back to life. I watched blushing with humiliation as she plucked my toast from my plate then set the eggs on the floor by her feet. “You eat on the floor, slave boy. And no hands.”

I nodded a bow and quickly got down on my hands and knees blushing a deeper shade of red. My mother crossed her legs and I watched mesmerized for a moment as she popped the heel of her shoe off and dangled it before me. She knew exactly what she was doing and the effect it was having on me, bobbing her foot right before my face. She had said no sex, but she was keeping me frustrated and on edge with her teasing, and I know she was enjoying it. Her command to eat finally snapped me from my trance and I lowered my face to the eggs and dug in.

My face was filthy but I was almost done licking at the last of my breakfast when I heard Lisa’s cruel laughter echoing above me. She said good morning to Mom as she strolled up to the table, her sock-encased feet stopping right by my head.

“Nice panties, slave,” she said with laughter still lacing her voice. I stayed kneeling; watching her toes shift in her socks, again uncertain what to do.

“We’ll have to donate him a couple pairs,” my mother said as she recrossed her legs. “He seems to drip a lot.” Both women laughed and I felt my skin heat up with shame again. Mom seemed very good at pushing my buttons.

“No ‘good morning’ for me, slave boy?” Lisa asked as she slid a foot closer. I could smell her sock was dirty and gray on the bottom from wear. Lisa wore socks around the house rather than slippers and these were apparently well worn from a few days. I leaned in regardless, my nose wrinkling at the smell a bit as I kissed her foot.

“Good morning, Miss,” I said as she pulled her foot back and sat at the table.

“Hungry?” Mom asked her still twirling her foot. My attention was now divided between her and Lisa’s feet planted on the floor before me.

“Naw,” Lisa replied. “Just coffee and OJ for now. I’ll make him fix me lunch later.”

They kept me there on my hands and knees while they chatted over breakfast. After awhile my knees started to ache and I started to fidget a bit to ease the pressure and was ordered by Lisa to sit still. I tried my best, concentrating on their feet to distract me, which helped a little.

Finally Mom said she had to go and scooted her chair back from the table to stand. “He has to do the yard work today,” she said, “so don’t run him too ragged. I want it finished. He knows what needs to be done.”

“Okay,” Lisa said crossing her long legs and shifting in her chair as Mom stepped in front of me, her dark leather pumps right before my face.

“You behave,” she said to me, “and obey your sister. I better not hear any complaints from her when I get home tonight or there’ll be hell to pay. Now say good-bye, slave.”

“Good bye, Ma’am,” I said as I leaned in and kissed the toecaps of my mother’s shoes. Lisa laughed as Mom walked away actually kicking me in the process. Whether on purpose or not it added to my humiliation and I shaded red again. After a couple minutes Mom yelled a goodbye to Lisa and she was out the door on her way to work leaving me alone and at the mercy of my sister.

I heard Lisa take a long drink, probably the orange juice, before standing. Still on my hands and knees I stared at her socked feet as she shifted her weight. I figured she was watching me, enjoying the sight of her panty-clad brother on his knees at her feet and under her control.

“You better get to work,” she finally said breaking the long silence. “I’m gonna shower, so get cleaned up in here then get your ass outside and busy. I’ll check on you later.”

A thought suddenly occurred to me- scared me actually and without thinking I spoke up. “I can’t go outside dressed like this!” I said even as Lisa was walking away. I saw her stop in the doorway and turn back to me.

“You causing problems already, slave?” she asked and I bowed my head back down.

“No, Miss,” I said trying to sound humble. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do the front yard work wearing panties.” I supposed I could in the back yard. It was fairly large but enclosed with a six-foot wooden fence and I would be hidden from view. Out front though I would be totally exposed and on display for the neighbors.

“No, I guess not,” Lisa finally agreed. “Most of the neighbors probably wouldn’t care but old lady Pope would have a coronary for sure.” ‘Old lady’ Pope was our neighbor across the street and one house to the right. She was eighty at least, more likely pushing a hundred and had nothing to do all day but watch TV and look out the window keeping an eagle eye on everything that happened in the neighborhood.

“Do the front yard first then. I’ll leave you something to wear before I get into the shower. And use the push mower. I don’t want you disturbing me with a lot of noise, loser.”

I sagged as Lisa walked away. I did not even know that Lisa knew we had an old push mower. Dad had used it when he was on a health craze thinking that it would help him stay in shape. I guess it probably did, but it had not been out of the shed in years now and I could only imagine how hard it would be to push around the yard.

There was nothing to do about it though, so with a sigh I got up and started to clean the kitchen. It was going to be a long day…


True to her word, Lisa left me something else to wear for the front yard work. It was less revealing than the panties by a millimeter, but the pink bikini bottoms from one of her swim suits was even more humiliating. I pulled them on and saw they fit me somewhat like a Speedo leaving nothing to the imagination as my tiny bulge swelled out in the front and the rear slipped between my cheeks.

I don’t know just how much Mom and Lisa discussed how to use and abuse me, but apparently they both wanted to keep me humiliated throughout my week of servitude. I stepped into the old pink flip-flops that Lisa had graciously left for me too and felt the fool even before I stepped outside to get to my chores. I dragged the old mower from the back of the shed and as expected it was barely mobile. Lisa had not said that I couldn’t oil the wheels, so I did and then attached the grass catcher to the back so I would not have to later rake the mowed grass.

I pushed the mower around the side of the house towards the gate to the back yard and it rolled a little easier. With a sigh I finally screwed up my courage and opened the gate, hoping for the best…


As expected Mrs. Pope was sitting in the window watching my humiliation. I glanced her way as I shoved the rickety old mower around the yard and I swear she had a pair of binoculars a time or two when I looked. I was red with shame and sweating bullets as the sun rose higher in the pristine blue summer sky. I knew however that the red would quickly turn to sunburn if I did not hurry.

It was probably ten in the morning and well into the upper eighties when I finally finished mowing the front yard. I still had to edge though, then hose down the driveway and sidewalk, so I pushed the mower to the back yard, bagging the grass from the catcher and went back to the shed. I grabbed the weed eater first, then remembered my sister’s warning about disturbing her so grabbed the manual edger instead. When I returned to the front yard I saw Lisa sitting on the front porch.

She was dressed in raggedy denim shorts and a black sports bra. She had her hair pulled back in a tail and was wearing sunglasses, her long legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles and wearing flat leather sandals. She grinned wickedly as I came into view and took a long drink of water from a bottle sitting beside her on the porch. She beckoned me over.

“You look all hot and sweaty, slave,” she said as she smiled up at me. She gestured at the hose coiled up beside the porch. “Take a drink. Don’t want you dehydrating and passing out.” I thanked her, bowing with a nod and guzzled water greedily from the hose. “Go ahead and rinse off too. You’re gonna have a nice burn though if you don’t hurry up. No suntan lotion till the back yard.”

I thanked her again and ran the water over my head enjoying the opportunity to cool off with the tepid water. I coiled up the hose when I was done and got back to work stepping on the edger as I made my way slowly around the yard.

“I see Mrs. Pope is enjoying the show,” Lisa said mockingly. “Any other neighbors?”

“No, Miss,” I replied as I kept working, pressing down on the edger cutting into my foot. “Not that I saw.” And of course as if on cue a car sped past on the street honking and turning into the drive two houses away. Lisa and I both looked and saw Robin get out of her blue Saturn and stroll towards us.

Robin was our neighbor; twenty-two or so I thought and was our baby-sitter years ago. She was tall and a little plump with blond hair and glasses, pretty though not gorgeous Nikes, blue jeans and a red shell top that showed off her cleavage. She walked right up to me and looked me up and down as I continued to work, red with shame and staring at the ground.

“Good God, Jay,” she said with a laugh. “What are you wearing?”

I wanted to crawl under a rock and hide. Up close she could obviously see that I was wearing a bathing suit bottom, and in pink, with the flip-flops I must have looked like a full-blown sissy. I opened my mouth to answer, but Lisa cut me off.

“He lost a bet,” Lisa said gesturing for Robin to join her on the steps, which the older girl did, exchanging greetings with my sister.

“Oh?” Robin asked and I could feel her eyes on me, hearing the excited curiosity in her voice.

“Yeah. Me and Mom slaughtered him in racquetball. Loser here agreed to be our slave for a week.”

“A slave?” Robin said laughing. “Kinky. Guess the pink bikini’s his slave clothes then?”

“Out here, yeah. He wears panties otherwise.” Both girls cracked up at that as I flushed the full red spectrum. I could not believe that my sister was sharing this with our neighbor, but there was nothing I could do as I had promised Mom. “My little brother’s a perv,” Lisa added. “He loves the attention.”

“You know, I always caught him staring at my feet when I sat you two. I never really thought about it then, but now I guess I know why.”

“Oh, yeah,” Lisa agreed. “He loves women’s feet.” They laughed again as I continued edging my way around the lawn trying my best to ignore them.

“Come here, slave boy.” I cringed at Lisa’s command but did as she ordered laying the edger on the lawn and hurrying to stand before them, head bowed. I was burning with shame as I stared at their feet, knowing what was probably coming but hoping that Lisa would have a change of heart. No such luck.

“Kiss Robin’s shoes, slave,” Lisa commanded. “Show her what a little perv you really are.”

I looked up at my sister imploringly, begging with my eyes not to make me degrade myself before Robin and anyone in the neighborhood who might be watching. Lisa simply grinned triumphantly and pointed to our neighbor’s dirty white leather Nikes. I was hard as hell, but there were tears in my eyes as I dropped to my hands and knees leaning in and pressing my lips to Robin’s shoes.

Robin laughed uproariously as I kissed her shoes, totally degraded before her. I knew Mrs. Pope was probably watching in shock with her binoculars and I wondered just how many other neighbors were witnesses to my humiliation. The smell of old leather and perspiration was overwhelming as I planted kisses until my sister told me to stop and I backed away still kneeling.

“Ohmigawd…” Robin laughed as I knelt before them. Lisa was laughing too as she ordered me back to work. I scrambled to my feet and went back to my edging, trying not to whimper with shame. I saw Mrs. Pope in the window, and the curtains in the house directly across the street fluttered as well, closing. Either Less or Edna or maybe both had witnessed my public disgrace. They were a couple in their sixties, both retired. I wondered how many other neighbors had watched me degrade myself on the front lawn.

My sister and Robin chatted for awhile as I worked, but finally our neighbor said her good byes and left, as I was finishing up, hosing down the sidewalk and driveway. I hung my head as she walked past.

“Maybe I’ll see you later in the week, slave boy,” she said with a laugh. “I could use a good foot massage.” I nodded, unable to speak and looked to my grinning sister. She was standing on the porch with the screen door open ready to go inside.

“Hurry up, slave. I’ll see you out back.”

I watched as Lisa went into the house closing the door behind her. I looked towards the Pope house and saw Mrs. Pope still watching as I finished hosing down the driveway, coiled up the hose and hurried into the back yard and out of sight…


Our backyard is fairly large, but there is not too much grass to mow. There’s a cement patio that stretches wide down the center about three-quarters of the whole yard and takes up about one-third in width. There is about a twenty-foot deep stretch along the back of the house too that is covered and shaded and has a couple lawn chairs and other typical patio junk. On the left of the patio is a circular garden where Mom has rose bushes and other flowers planted. On the right half is an above ground pool that’s only three feet deep; not really for swimming but more cooling off and lounging. Most of the lawn is in what Dad called ‘the back forty’, which is a big patch of grass with a couple trees running the length and back third along the six-foot tall fence that encircles the yard.

I was relieved to be out of public scrutiny as I started mowing along the far side of house; a tiny patch of lawn with stepping stones to the side gate and the garbage and recycle bins. The fence would keep me hidden as I worked and slaved for my sister out back giving her no chance to humiliate me in front of any more neighbors, which she had no qualms about I had learned with Robin.

It was edging towards noon and getting hotter as I made my way across the lawn, pushing the mower in neat, parallel rows. I was soon sweating again, and I was starting to smell. My pink flip-flops were turning green on the bottoms and edges, as were my feet a bit from the fresh cut grass. My only respite was when I had to stop and empty the catcher on the back of the mower, pouring the clippings into a heavy-duty lawn bag. It was not hard, but the catcher was cumbersome and invariably cut grass ended up clinging to my sweaty legs every time. By the time Lisa finally came outside to join me I was a mess.

Lisa laughed to see me as she sashayed out onto the patio. She had her long brown hair pulled back into a ponytail with a pair of sunglasses perched atop her head. She was wearing a skimpy black string bikini that left very little to the imagination, her black rubber flip-flops on her feet. I remember when she bought the suit a couple summers back. Mom had hit the roof, it was so revealing and forbade Lisa to wear it as she was too young at the time. Lisa had of course argued, and of course lost. I had never seen it since and assumed that she had returned it, but apparently I was wrong. I could see now why Mom had hated it, as it barely hid my sister’s more private parts, but I had to admit that it made my sister look hot!

Lisa strolled towards the middle of the patio, a towel slung over her left shoulder, carrying a small radio and a mesh beach bag that I could see held a water bottle, sun block and some other things that I couldn’t make out. She dropped her things on the long, yard lounger set near the back of the patio between the pool and a round metal table with two lawn chairs and a big blue umbrella before sauntering back towards me and stopping at the edge of the lawn.

I kept mowing, not thinking obviously until I heard my sister clear her throat. I stopped and looked at her standing with one hand on her cocked hip, her left leg forward with her toes just on the grass. She smirked as my penis betrayed me again and I blushed, which made her grin all the wider.

“You’re a mess,” she pointed out, “but that doesn’t excuse you of your duties, slave. Get over here and greet me properly.”

Lisa pointed at her foot and I quickly dropped to my knees and crawled the couple yards over to her. I leaned in and kissed her foot, which still smelled clean and flowery from her shower. Lisa giggled and shifted her weight exchanging feet and I kissed again feeling my hard on stretching the front of my own pink bikini. Between my sister’s sexy body and fantastic looks coupled with the humiliation of groveling at her feet I felt ready to burst. Lisa probably realized the same thing and stepped back out of my reach.

“You’re getting pink as your bikini, loser,” Lisa said with a chuckle as she walked back towards the house. “Mom would kill me if I left you out here to burn.” She came strolling back with the garden hose uncoiling in her wake, the gun-grip nozzle dripping. “Stand up with your arms out.”

I did as ordered and without the slightest warning Lisa doused me with the strong spray of water. The first blast was freezing as I felt so hot and sweaty but after a few moments my body adjusted and I was enjoying the attention. At least until she hit me square in the face, laughing as I winced from the sting. Lisa hosed me thoroughly down, washing me front and back of sweat and the clinging grass then simply dropped the hose and walked back to the lounger.

She returned carrying the bottle of sunscreen and tossed it to me. “Wipe yourself down, loser,” she ordered as she slid her sunglasses down onto her nose then simply stood there to watch. I squeezed some lotion into the palm of my hand and quickly smeared it as best I could head to toe all over my body. Lisa nodded when I finished, then stepped to the edge of the patio again.

“C’mere.” I started to drop to my knees but she stopped me. “Walk, stupid.”

I walked back over to her and she took the bottle from me, commanding me to turn around. As soon as I did I gasped shivering to feel Lisa’s soft hands caressing my shoulders and back, rubbing in the lotion. I actually moaned from her attention and she giggled.

“Like that, hunh?” she cooed and I felt her step closer, right up behind me. I licked my lips to feel her pointy, hard nipples barely scratching my back as her right hand snaked around in front of me. Her fingers found my nipple, which was suddenly as hard as her own and she scratched it lightly with her long, pink nails.

“This get you hot, boy?” she said and I could feel her warm breath gush on the back of my neck. Her fingers closed on my nipple and Lisa squeezed, pinching hard between her hard nails. She giggled as I yelped and squirmed in her grip, then shivered again as her fingers traced down my chest and belly, finally lightly brushing my straining hard on.

“Lisa…” I whimpered and suddenly felt her shove me forward. I stumbled caught off guard and went sprawling into the grass a few steps away, almost landing on the mower. I heard Lisa’s mocking laughter and the sound of her flip-flops slapping the cement as she walked away.

“Too bad, loser. That’s all you get. Now get back to work.”

I got up with my front covered in grass and clinging to the sunscreen, my soggy pink bikini bulging and never feeling so frustrated in my life. Lisa had played me like a fiddle with her tender then cruel touches, bringing me to the brink with a quick tease and then denying me, leaving me hard and horny as hell. I could not believe the thoughts roiling through my head as I stared longingly, lustfully at my sister. She was rubbing lotion on herself now as she sat on the lounger, glancing up occasionally and grinning wickedly at my discomfort.

I just stood there dumbly entranced as I watched her hands glide along her long, smooth legs. She was clearly still teasing me, knowing that her simple, graceful movements were keeping me aroused. Finally though she looked up again as she capped the bottle.

“I don’t see you working, slave.” She snapped her fingers, breaking me from my trance and I jumped. “C’mon! Chop-chop!” she said laughing as she laid down on the lounger, glistening in the sun. She watched me until I got moving again then settled her head back to relax while I slaved…


It was about an hour later and the mowing was done, the grass bagged and the mower cleaned and put away. I was edging my way around the patio, my feet starting to hurt from stepping down on the edger with the thin, rubber flip-flops. I was sweating bullets and reeking I knew, hoping that the sun block was true to its claims and still working, clinging to my skin. Looking at my arms I did not seem too red, but I still had a lot to do outside and the day was young.

“C’mere, slave.”

I looked over to my sister and saw that she was shifting onto her stomach on the lounger. She took a long drink from her water bottle and I licked my dry lips as I hurried to her side. Laying back down she set the empty bottle on the ground then pulled her ponytail off to the side as she eyed me with a sideways glance.

“Your turn, slave. Put some sun block on my back and legs, and try to control yourself, hunh?” she said with a giggle.

“Yes, Miss,” I said with just a little quiver in my voice as I picked up the bottle of sun block and squirted some into my hands. I hovered over her and was about to begin when she said:

“Kneel down, stupid. You’re blocking the sun.”

I winced as I knelt on the hot cement. It was fairly smooth but still hurt as grit and pebbles dug into my knees. There was nothing to do but bare the pain though as I set about my latest task and started to massage the sunscreen into my sister’s shoulders and back.

“Mmmm…” Lisa almost moaned. “That feels SO good. You do have a magic touch, bro. Bet Mom and I could make a fortune hiring you out to our friends and neighbors, LOL. Maybe we can get you a job at a nail salon too over the summer. You can massage women’s feet all day long and you’d definitely rack up on tips. Undo the tie, stupid.”

I had been rubbing under the strings of Lisa’s bikini top, so stopped and undid the bow laying the strings aside before I continued. I was sweating and flushed from excitement now as I worked my way down her body. I was aroused too at her suggestions; renting me out to friends and neighbors, massaging feet at a nail salon. Where was she getting this stuff from? I was starting to think that my sister had a few kinks of her own.

“Legs too,” she commanded as I got down to the little black triangle of her bikini bottoms barely hiding her round, curvy ass cheeks. I licked my lips and swallowed as I squirted more lotion into my hands and started to work my way down her left leg.

My sister sighed with contentment as I got to her foot and started rubbing the lotion into her sole. “Yesss…” she whispered as I massaged her soft foot, my thumbs caressing the ball, rubbing the soft skin along the arch, pressing into the heel. She kept shifting at my ministrations and I could see a fine sheen of perspiration popping up on her skin as she enjoyed my touch. Finally she jerked her foot and told me to do the other leg. I happily did, enjoying the moment as much as she obviously was.

“Go get me another water,” she said lazily as she basked in the sun. “And one for yourself too. You did good, slave so take a five-minute break and cool off with the hose if you want. Then back to work.”

“Thank you, Miss,” I said as I screwed the cap back onto the bottle of sunscreen and got up off of my knees with a sigh of relief. I was aching as I made my way along the patio, kicking off my filthy flip-flops before going into the luxuriously cool air-conditioned house…


It had been a busy day, for me at least. At five o’clock I was hosing down the patio, Lisa graciously getting into the pool to allow me to do so. I had edged the entire lawn, clipped about the plants, trees and bushes, picked up leaves and weeded in Mom’s flower garden and was finally on the last leg of the day’s outside chores.

The sun was still beaming down and it had to be in the eighties yet as I sprayed any stray clippings from the cement. I glanced over at my sexy sister as she lounged on an inflatable air mattress, which I had had to blow up of course, as she sipped at her water and watched me in return.

Finally I released the trigger of the hose’ nozzle and announced that I was done. My sister looked up and glanced at the cement half heatedly before settling back on the float. “I don’t think so,” she purred. “I see some spots that are a little grimy yet. Why don’t you get a brush, get down on your hands and knees and scrub the patio like a good slave, hmmm?”

I sighed, sagging just a bit. I admit that I was tired. I loved being ordered about by my sexy sister, but I needed to rest and my brain felt fried from being out in the hot sunlight all day long. Still, I had agreed to do what I was told and I would be damned if I backed out now.

“Yes, Miss,” I said as I trotted off to the shed to get a brush…


It was after six when our mother finally came home from work.

Lisa was sitting in one of the lawn chairs in the shade of the umbrella at the table texting one of her friends. Her long, tanned legs were crossed and she was dangling a black rubber flip-flop just inches in front of my face, casually kicking her leg and twirling her foot as I scrubbed on my hands and knees at an imaginary blemish on the patio that just would not become clean enough for her approval. Occasionally she would slap the sole of her flip-flop to her foot, drawing my attention and keeping me in check and hard, making me scrub all the more fiercely.

She had taken pictures of me too, while I was on my hands and knees at her feet. I would hear the noise of the camera on her Blackberry and her giggles as she looked at the image a moment later. I had a very bad feeling that she was sharing the pictures with someone by her laughter after her thumbs flew over the cell phone’s keypad. I was red wondering who might be seeing my latest humiliations when I heard the back screen door slam shut followed by my mother’s laughter.

I glanced towards the house even as I heard our mother’s heels clacking on the cement and saw her approaching. She was still dressed in her skirt and blouse, though she had removed her jacket. Her hair hung loosely at her shoulders as she casually strolled towards us and my eyes fixed on her black leather pumps as she stepped up right beside us.

“Hi kids,” she said without a bit of hesitation, as though it were an every day occurrence to find me on my hands and knees and scrubbing the patio at my sister’s feet. “How was your day?”

I knew that Mom was talking to Lisa and not to me so I kept scrubbing as my sister answered. I was staring at my mother’s feet now, close enough to smell the luxurious, worn leather of her shoes even over the scent of the freshly cut grass.

“It was great, Mom,” Lisa said and I could hear the smile in her voice. “I lounged around all day and worked on my tan while loser here did his chores. It’s great having a slave. And listen…” she said with excitement.

I blushed as she went into the tale of the day, especially the bit out in the front when Robin came by. I could hear my mother’s startled gasp at first, her questions about me being on display in the pink bikini and flip-flops, followed by her laughter when Lisa had explained that no one in the neighborhood seemed to care. She laughed even louder when Lisa explained how she had ordered me to kiss Robin’s shoes and I had dutifully obeyed.

“Speaking of kissing shoes…” my mother said as she shifted her stance and slid a foot under my face. I stared at the polished leather of her black pump for a moment, admiring the toe cleavage and the silky smoothness of the top of her dark-hosed foot and ankle. I leaned in knowing what was expected, feeling a rush as I breathed in the intoxicating scent of her leather shoe. And the closer I got the stronger the scent of her own body, the smell of her foot seeping out and up. I knew her feet had been encased in the shoes most of the day and were ripe by now, nine hours later. I knew that I would probably be licking and massaging those feet soon enough as I planted a loving and respectful kiss on the toe cap of my mother’s shoe, welcoming her home.

“Well, the yard looks nice,” she said as she pulled her right foot away and slid her left forward so that I could repeat my adulation. “I need to wash up and get changed though. The AC was out at the office and I was sweating like a pig,” she said as she pulled her foot back then planted it on the back of my head, with just enough force to press my face to the cement.

“Lucky you, footboy,” she said and both women laughed. Mom held me there for a minute, then stepped off of me, turning and striding back towards the house. “Finish up out here, then come inside. I want some attention after my long day. And I was thinking of pizza tonight. Too hot to cook, and you don’t mind paying do you slave? It’s not like you have any use for money this week, right?”

Lisa laughed as Mom disappeared back into the house, then got up from the lawn chair. She towered over me for a moment knowing no doubt that I was excited and hard again as she wiggled her toes playfully.

“Clean up out here and then hose yourself off again. Come inside when you’re dry.” Lisa stepped past me and I stared at her long, shapely legs and ass as she sashayed back towards the house. “And bring my stuff, slave!” she called out even as the screen door slammed shut behind her.

I just knelt there on the hard, hot cement for a few moments, waiting for my erection to subside before I stood and went about my tasks…


It was about forty minutes later before I had finished up the last of the yard work. I put away all the tools after cleaning them of course, locked up the shed and then trotted over to the hose that Lisa had left coiled haphazardly on the patio. As ordered I hosed myself down relishing the cool sting as the spray of water washed over me. I ran the water through my stringy, sweaty hair, down my body and then paid some extra attention to my green-fringed feet. I would need some time in the shower with some soap to get rid of the grass stains on my skin, and Lisa’s pink flip-flops were ruined as far as I knew. I hope she knew that they would be forever stained green before she loaned them to me and hoped that she would not give me a hard time over ruining them.

I gathered up the things that Lisa had left behind, sun block, her towel, empty water bottles, etc., and stuffed them all into her mesh carry bag then took a final look about the yard to make certain that I had not forgotten anything. The yard looked good, I thought and I turned on the sprinkler system, as the sun would soon be down. Despite that it was still warm and humid and I could see huge, dark clouds roiling in from the east heralding a thunderstorm soon for certain. With a final shrug I turned and went inside…

I dropped Lisa’s empty bottles into the recycle bag as I made my way through the kitchen. I wanted another drink of water myself, but wasn’t sure – as a slave – if I was allowed. I had snuck a few swallows from the hose outside so figured that I would survive. I continued into the living room.

My mother laughed as I came into the room. I could only imagine what I looked like, my long hair a frizzy mess, almost naked in pink panties that left little to the imagination and my feet fringed with green grass stains. I blushed with humiliation as I stood there in the doorway looking at my sexy mother.

She was propped back in my father’s recliner with her feet up on the padded rest, ankles leisurely crossed. She had removed her business suit, exchanging the jacket and blouse for a tight gray tank top and the dress for a black pleated skirt. Oddly I saw that she was still wearing her black leather pumps and hose. I could only imagine that did not bode well for me.

“There’s my boy,” she said with a wide grin, as she looked me up and down. She had the TV remote in one hand and a bottle of California Cooler in the other. “Looks like you had a rough day slaving, hunh?”

“Not too rough,” I replied. “It was just mad hot outside.”

“Where’s my bow, slave?” Mom grinned wickedly and took a sip from her bottle. I figured it was probably her second, though I didn’t see an empty. I bowed. My sister was nowhere in sight, but then I heard the faint sound of the shower and music so knew where she was.

“What have you got there?” Mom asked nodding at the bag I was holding.

“Lisa’s things.”

“Well, set ‘em down. I want some attention. Get over here.”

I set Lisa’s bag on the floor beside the sofa and hurried to stand before my mother. She looked up at me with an evil smirk and pointed at the floor before the chair. “I could use a good foot massage, slave. It was a long hard day for me and my feet are killing me. So you get a little reward for doing such a good job on the yard. Happy?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” I said as I dropped to my knees beside her chair. Her pretty feet were almost right in my face propped on the chair’s foot rest and even from a distance I could smell the aroma boiling out of her well worn shoes. She was wearing her favorite heels, black kid leather with three-inch heels. They were showing the signs of age, scuffed along the edges and heels, stretched and scarred but still sexy as hell on her feet, which she wiggled before my face. I looked up and saw her smiling at me.

“You like these shoes, don’t you?” she asked with a knowing smile. I nodded.

“Yes, Ma’am.” She shifted her feet and cocked her ankle as she considered them. Her foot waved back and forth as she eyed the shoes and me.

“I like them too. They’re old, but comfortable. I’ve had them almost two years, y’know. Took forever to break them in. They must stink to high heaven by now, they’re so old and worn, but I don’t care. A woman finds a pair of shoes she likes, she wears them into the ground. Did you know that?”

“No, Ma’am,” I said kneeling before my mother as her feet shifted before my face. That slightest action was getting me hard again and I hoped that she did not notice but I knew that she did. My little pink panties did nothing to hide my erection, my tiny little woody.

“Well, these are my favorite work pumps, but they’re getting pretty ragged. They need a good cleaning and polishing, they look so bad.” She sighed. “But I just don’t have the time…

“Oh, wait. I have a slave,” she said as she angled her toes towards my face. “You can clean my shoes. You can clean and polish these, and all my pairs. But later for that, right now you can lick these clean. Stick out your tongue, slave.”

I did as I was told, sticking out my tongue as far as it would go. With a giggle my mother shifted in the chair and dragged the sole of her right shoe along my out-stretched tongue.

“Mmmm… You like that?”

I nodded as she raised her foot and dragged the sole along my dry tongue again. I could smell the old leather mingling with her sweat, taste the grit and dust as she pressed against my face.

“Then lick. Clean my shoes, bitch!”

I almost came at her harsh words but leaned in as ordered and started to lick the dirty soles of her shoes…
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Old 15-Jan-18, 02:17
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Default Re: Femdom Stories of mine

Story Name: Racquetball Bet
Author: Unknown

Chapter 4

I was a mess after my day’s slaving, out in the yard doing all the mowing and edging, raking and all the while waiting on my sister, Lisa, literally hand and foot while she lounged in the hot sun working on her tan. The work was not hard really, but grueling in the heat and humiliating as Lisa had dressed me only in the tight pink bottoms of one of her swim suits and a pair of pink flip flops. I had been sweating buckets all day and the edges of my feet were tinged green from the freshly cut grass. Despite being allowed to hose down I still felt grimy and knew that I probably smelled. My long black hair was plastered to my face in sticky strands and my skin had turned a bright pink from my time in the sun.

But of course my comfort was the last thing on Lisa’s mind, and my mother apparently agreed as I was now on my knees tired and filthy and licking away at my mother’s shoes. She was sitting contentedly relaxing in my father’s plush leather recliner, her long legs propped up on the footrest while she flipped through the program guide on the television. She looked beautiful, regal almost even though dressed in a simple gray tanktop and pleated black skirt, sipping occasionally from a bottle of California Cooler. I knew that she was enjoying having me as her slave for a week, catering to her and my sister’s every whim, like now; cleaning her favorite work shoes with my tongue.

I had never known that either my mother or sister had a bit of a kinky side to them, but they were both enjoying putting me through my paces, parading me around wearing nothing but panties or the swim suit bottoms, making me do all of the drudge work and chores around the house and making me lick and kiss their shoes and feet. Of course I am not being judgmental. It was humiliating, but I loved the attention and I admit that I have been hard almost constantly since my week of slavery began.

Especially now, I had been on my knees for almost a half-hour licking away at my mother’s dirty pumps. They were almost two years old she had said, well worn and scuffed along the edges and heels. Too, they smelled their age, still rich and exotic of the soft, expensive leather but coupled with the scent of my mother’s perspiration, foot odor and various bodywash and powders. To make it even worse, she was wearing her dark hose that I learned she had worn a few times without washing, ‘just for you,’ she had said.

As a result I was almost overwhelmed by the myriad array of scents as I licked feverishly, loving every moment. I had a few fetishes too it seemed, and Mom and my sister were pushing all my buttons. My tiny hard on was raging as I dragged my tongue along the side of my mother’s pump, heady from the strong smell of her sweaty feet encased in the soft leather. Occasionally she would angle her foot, twisting her ankle a bit to allow me access but for the most part I had to adjust, craning my neck to get at her shoes and clean them thoroughly all over.

“Mmmm…” I heard my mother moan as she wriggled a bit in the recliner. “You do have a hot tongue, slave. I can feel it through the shoe.” She tapped me on the side of the head with her foot and I stopped licking, looking up expectantly. She held out her empty wine cooler bottle.

“Go get me another,” she ordered waving the empty bottle at me casually, watching whatever was on the TV, ignoring me otherwise.

“Yes, Ma’am,” I said taking the bottle and crawling to the kitchen. I dropped the empty into the recycle bin, retrieved another cooler from the fridge and crawled back into the living room to find my mother talking quietly on her cell phone ordering the pizza she had promised earlier. She motioned for me to open the bottle, which I did and handed it to her as she finished the call, setting her phone on the table beside the chair.

“Take off my shoes now, slave,” she said taking a sip from the bottle as I nodded.

“Yes, Ma’am,” I said as I gingerly slid her shoes from her feet. I wrinkled my nose in disgust as her foot scent washed over me in full, no longer trapped within the confines of her shoes. She had said that the air conditioning had been out at work and her feet had suffered. I saw a TV show once where a woman said that ‘horses sweat, people perspire,’ but perspiration was too kind a word for the reek that assaulted me. I could almost taste the bitter, salty flavor of my mother’s feet, the damp dots of sweat trapped in her dark hose as she wiggled her pretty toes right before my face.

“Aww, don’t like that?” my mother said with a chuckle. Without a thought to my discomfort she moved her leg and pressed the sole of her foot flat against my face. “Take a good, long whiff, slave boy. I know you love it.”

I did as I was told, inhaling deeply of the foul stench. It was intense, but I sniffed loudly as my mother laughed, mashing her foot into my face, rubbing the sweat into my skin. I felt dizzy after just a few seconds, but my mother kept on adding her left foot to the right and cupping my nose between her pretty feet.

“Lick,” she ordered and I did. My tongue was already aching from attending to her shoes but I stuck it out and lapped away at her sweat-stained hose. “And rub them too,” she added and I raised my hands to knead the soft soles of her feet as my tongue caressed the balls of her feet and around her toes. With a contented sigh my mother settled back in her chair enjoying my ministrations.

Laughter broke me from the daze that had settled over me and I glanced sideways to see my sister come into the room. Her long, brown hair was a bit damp yet and she was wearing nothing but an over-sized NY Jets tee shirt and a pair of black canvas casuals that she used as slippers sometimes. Her long, tanned legs glistened from her shower as she paused, grinning widely as she watched me licking our mother’s smelly feet.

“Having fun?” she said with a laugh as she strolled through the room and into the kitchen. I heard the refrigerator open and close but said nothing figuring that she was talking to Mom and not to me. Mom answered when Lisa came back into the living room drinking from a bottle of Poland Spring.

“You know it,” Mom said dreamily. “This must be Heaven.”

Lisa laughed and flopped down on the sofa dropping her feet on the coffee table. “What’s on?” she asked indicating the television, ignoring me then as she and my mother chatted, enjoying some quiet time and family bonding.

I looked up startled when the doorbell rang a few minutes later. I was about to get up and run from the room when Mom thumped her heel into my forehead. “What’s wrong with you?” she asked, scowling. “That’s probably the pizza. Get the door, slave.”

I stared at her in shock, my pink skin blushing a deeper shade of red as she pulled my wallet from her purse and tossed two twenties at me. It fluttered to the floor as I looked between her and Lisa numbly. Lisa was wide-eyed as well as she looked at our mother.

“Mom,” I said as the doorbell rang again. “I can’t – “

The recliner folded in on itself as my mother leaned forward. I never saw the blow coming as her hand lashed out and her palm caught me full on the cheek. I sprawled to the floor from her slap, tears welling from the pain. I looked up at her pathetically as she glared down at me.

“Can’t is no longer in your vocabulary,” she hissed. Her eyes were a bit pink and glassy and I knew that she was a little buzzed already from the wine coolers. “Now go answer the door!” I nodded, grabbing the money and starting to get up but she slapped me again, this time on the shoulder. “Crawl, stupid.” I glanced at Lisa but she was just staring in wide-eyed fascination.

I crawled to the door then got up on my knees to reach up and undo the chain, blushing furiously as I unlocked and opened the door. I was greeted to the sight of a grinning East Indian girl about Lisa’s age and dressed in the red and blue of a Dominoes’ uniform. She was pretty, if just a bit plump, holding the hot delivery bag and wearing a bike helmet. Her eyes went wide as she took me in, naked but for my bikini bottoms and on my knees.

“Uhh…” she stuttered uncomfortably wondering what was going on no doubt. “Delivery…”
I held out the money and exchanged it for the pizza, both of us flushing in embarrassment. I held the warm box as the girl added napkins and crushed red pepper packets. “Keep the change,” I heard my mother say from right behind me. I had not even heard her join us at the door and glanced back to see her smiling warmly at the delivery girl.

“Are you sure?” the girl asked, her eyes flicking between the money in her hand, my mother and me. “The tip is more than the pizza.”

“I’m sure,” my mother assured the girl, adding, “for your extra effort. You probably weren’t expecting my sissy son to answer the door on his knees half-naked.” I don’t know how red I was at that point, but I felt I must have been glowing in embarrassment.

The girl grinned receiving over twenty-dollars in tip, pocketing the money. “Thank you,” she said in accented English. “I wasn’t expecting that, no, but I see many strange things in this job.”

“I can imagine,” Mom said with a chuckle. “My son lost a bet, you see, and now has to be my slave for a week.”

“I understand,” the girl said nodding and smiling as she looked down at me again. “In my homeland, indentured servitude is an accepted way of paying debt. Many are poor and it is the only way they can pay. This is fine.”

“Good,” I heard my mother purr. “What’s your name? We may want pizza again and I’d like for you to deliver it, if that’s all right?”

“Yes,” the girl nodded enthusiastically. “My name is Pratchi. Thank you.”

“Thank YOU, Pratchi,” Mom said and the girl’s grin widened. She started to turn away.

“Give her a tip.” My mother’s voice was cold and I heard Lisa’s gasp and giggle from the living room. The girl stopped, looking back expectantly for more money.

Still holding the pizza I leaned down and forward to kiss the toes of the girl’s worn, leather Nikes. They were old and I could smell the leather and the rank odor of her feet as she had probably been in them and on call for hours on that hot summer day. I heard her gasp, then giggle as I humbled myself at her feet for over a minute before she finally said that she had to go.

“I am off tomorrow,” she said, “and my shift ends at ten o’clock when I work.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, Pratchi,” my mother said as the girl stepped out of the doorway. “Have a good night.”

“Get in here,” my mother said between bouts of laughter as she closed and locked the door. I then crawled back to the living room on my knees and one hand carrying the pizza. I set it on the coffee table seeing that my sister had gotten paper plates and a potholder to set the box on. She was sitting there laughing, wiping at her eyes.

“Omigodomigodomigod…” she howled, “that was hilarious!” Lisa rolled her head back and held her belly, stamping her feet she was laughing so hard. I heard Mom join in and though I was still blushing with shame it was infectious and I was soon giggling as well.

I could not believe it. Just a few minutes earlier my mother had slapped and berated me and now I was laughing at my humiliation. Despite my shame, or more likely because of it, my tiny penis was rigid. My stomach was roiling as my emotions fluttered, wondering what was wrong with me, what was happening to me.

“Serve us, loser,” my mother commanded as she flopped back into the recliner, extending the footrest. I did as I was told and served my mother and sister, giving each a slice from the medium pepperoni Mom had ordered, offering up their meal on a paper plate from my knees.

Mom directed me back to her feet as they ate…


It did not take them long to devour most of the pizza. I remained on my knees first kissing then massaging my mother’s sexy feet watching as slice after slice disappeared from the grease stained box. I was starving, and the smell of the pizza alone was making my stomach rumble and groan, my family giggling every time.

“We’re being too cruel,” my mother said as she scooped up the last slice from the box. I looked up into her dark eyes as she seasoned it, then with a wide grin put the slice to her lips and took a huge bite. She stared at me while she chewed and I continued rubbing her feet, my stomach gurgling. “Is sissy hungry?” she said about the mouthful of pizza.

“Yes, Ma’am,” I said meekly pressing my thumbs into the arches of her nylon-clad feet.

“Well, come closer and open your mouth,” she replied holding up the slice. “Mommy will feed you.”

I licked my lips and eagerly shuffled forward on my knees and opened my mouth. Mom held the slice close to my mouth then leaned over and spat out the piece that she had been chewing onto the floor. It hit with a wet splat and she laughed as I stared down at it in disbelief. I heard Lisa howling again behind me.

“Well, eat up,” Mom said as she leaned back into the chair with a wicked grin. “Don’t let it get cold.” I bent low and ate the sodden, half-chewed bit of pizza from the floor. I gagged in disgust but chewed and swallowed even as another wad landed on the carpet in front of me.

Thus my mother fed me my dinner that night, one slice of pizza that she pre-chewed for me. And god help me I ate every bite…


After I had swallowed the last bite of pizza that my mother had graciously chewed for me and spat onto the floor at her feet she leaned back in the recliner and commanded me to clean up the mess from dinner...

She had ordered Dominoes for the three of us (using my money I might add to pay), and even made me answer the door on my knees and dressed only in my slave attire; a dirty pair of pink panties that my sister, Lisa had ordered me to wear. It had been totally humiliating to be seen by a stranger like that, but the delivery girl had taken it all in stride after her initial shock. She had even enjoyed it when my mother ordered me to kiss the girl’s shoes and hoped to deliver to us again soon, especially after the generous tip I had included. Mom and Lisa had eaten the entire pie while I continued to kneel and kiss, lick and massage my mother’s smelly, nylon clad feet. Finally, more out of degrading me than pity, Mom fed me the final slice, pre-chewed and spat to the floor…

“Yes, Ma’am,” I said as I gathered the dirty napkins and paper plates into the empty pizza box. Lisa giggled and leaned forward to help, picking up the potholder that the warm, greasy box had been sitting on.

“Open,” she said dangling the holder in front of my face and when I opened my mouth she poked one corner between my lips. I bit down as they laughed and crawled awkwardly away towards the kitchen.

“Make sure you clean that stuff before you put it in the recycle bin,” Mom called after me, adding, “with your tongue, slave.” They both laughed as I mumbled another ‘Yes, Ma’am,’ around the potholder gagging my mouth.

I stayed on my knees on the hard, linoleum floor in the kitchen as I went about my latest task in my week of slavery to my mother and sister. I had had my doubts about my debt after losing a game of racquetball to my mother and sister, wondering what my week would entail and thinking it would be simply doing the chores around the house and harmlessly waiting on the winners. Little did I know that my mother and sister had different plans, or at least exaggerated?

Certainly I was slaving for them, doing the yard work most of today, and waiting on them, but it seemed that they both had a bit of a dominant nature and actually delighted in seeing me humbled and humiliated, even degraded. Neither had any reservations about dressing me in my sister’s frilly pink panties (or her equally pink bikini bottoms while I was working in the front yard), or exposing me to the neighbors, and now a total stranger. Too, I learned that they could be cruel and devious whether teasing me sexually or punishing me. Mom had actually slapped me when I had hesitated in answering the door for the pizza and hard enough to bring tears to my eyes. That had shocked me, and Lisa as well and I think we all knew that this was all a bit more than harmless fun.

But even as I learned the limits of their domination I was starting to realize just how submissive I was as well. Sure, the work was hard at times, but I found that I was ironically, coincidentally hard throughout. I seemed to enjoy their… abuse? I loved the tone of authority in their voices as they ordered me about, the wicked amusement on their lips and in their eyes, and though at first some of the tasks they demanded seemed disgusting I did as I was told and quickly relished them.

Mom had set the ground rules to which we all agreed, and it seemed that ‘anything goes’ was the rule of thumb, excluding sex. That of course did not mean that they would not tease and torment me, keeping me at the brink of frustration throughout my servitude. They seemed to know what made me hot and delighted in keeping me that way. I was made to touch them, massage them, lick their feet but it ended there. It left us all horny and hot I knew, and Mom had even admitted to pleasuring herself the night before; something that I was not allowed. I wanted to, desperately, but I had been denied that pleasure and had spent a restless night obeying.

Did I want release: yes!

Did I want them? Well…

I shook my head to clear my lustful thoughts and set about my new task. I hung the potholder on its hook by the stove then tossed the dirty napkins in the paper recycle bin. As ordered then I licked the paper plates and the pizza box clean, remnants of their meal on both; bits of cold, dry cheese and crust mainly, and grease. It was nasty but I did as they ordered, rooting around in the pizza box on the floor like a pig.

“Get yourself some water when you’re done,” my mother called from the living room. “Rinse your mouth then get back in here.” I did as she said after I dropped the plates and box in the recycle bin, glad to get the taste of pizza and feet out of my mouth, a unique combination.

I crawled back into the living room to the smiling faces of my mother and sister. Mom was still in the recliner, kicked back with her ankles crossed on the extended footrest, my sister on the sofa legs extended on the coffee table. Lisa was flipping through the cable guide on TV as Mom watched smoking a cigarette and sipping at her wine. After a quick glance at me I was ignored for a bit, left kneeling there as the two women debated what to watch. I had no say in the matter of course, and it was apparently a bland night for television.

“That one,” my mother finally said after a few moments. Lisa groaned but complied and clicked on the channel and I heard music blare from the TV. It was one of the cable music stations and an old song from the 70’s or 80’s, from Mom’s youth as I knew she often listened to the Classic Rock station for the background noise when she was doing things around the house. Rod Stewart I knew, but not the name of the song.

“Dance for us, slave,” my mother said taking another sip of wine. “Entertain us.”

I got up and started to dance, feeling stupid and blushing to be the center of attention. Being fairly much a geek I was not much of a dancer. I had gone to a few dances at school, stag of course, and had danced to a couple songs when I had gotten up the nerve to ask a girl to join me, but I was stiff and awkward to say the least. I waved my arms and swayed to the music a bit, trying to find the rhythm of the song.

“C’mon, shake that ass,” Mom shouted laughing.

“Jiggle it, baby!” my sister added as I wiggled my panty-clad butt for them, dancing in a circle. “Thrust your hips!”

“Grab your nipples,” my mother said as I gyrated for them. “Rub ‘em like a horny little girl.” I flushed red but started fondling my hard nipples as I shook my ass, lifting my legs high and dancing about. “Do the Funky Chicken!”

Lisa howled as I bent over, still holding my nipples and flapping my folded arms like wings, strutting about the living room like a chicken for them. “Cluck for us!” she screamed, barely able to get the words out. I made clucking noises as I pranced about the room, burning with shame.

I was sweating like a pig and exhausted when Mom finally called a halt some twenty minutes later. “Kneel, boy,” she said pointing at the floor in front of the recliner, “Rest a minute.” I dropped to my hands and knees before her, breathing heavily and trying to get myself back under control.

“It’s getting late and I’m beat,” she said as she folded in the footrest on the recliner standing with her feet right under my face. I stared at her pretty feet, her painted toenails sparkling beneath the dark nylon, wanting to lean in and lavish them with kisses of adoration but held my position. “I have work tomorrow, dammit, and much as I want to I can’t call out.”

“I’m ready to call it a night too,” Lisa added standing and stretching. “Nothing on TV. Might go on my computer for awhile.”

“Okay,” Mom said as she slid a foot under my face. “Kiss.” I leaned in and kissed her foot. It was warm and the day’s odor had receded after my ministrations. I willingly humbled myself, screwing up my courage as she exchanged feet, letting me kiss the other. I wanted more. I was burning with desire and did not want this to end. “Clean up our glasses then get to bed, slave. You have a lot to do to- “

“Mom…” I whispered cutting her off, “Ma’am…” I kissed her feet again, blushing. “Please…” I bit my lip embarrassed at what I wanted to ask.

“What?” my mother snapped, hands on her hips and towering over me as I planted reverent kisses to her toes. I trembled in excitement and shame as Phil Collins sang of ‘Mother’ in the background.

“Please….” I swallowed. “Tie me up…”


Lisa guffawed with laughter as I kissed Mom’s feet even harder. “Please… Please… I want it.” Mom pulled her foot back, out of reach but I was too ashamed to move or even look up. Burning with shame I put my head to the floor as Supertramp’s ‘Goodbye Stranger’ came on the TV…

‘Never look behind me my troubles will be few’…

“Tie you up?” she asked as I leaned in again and planted kisses on her toes.

“Please…” I said, my voice quaking with emotion. I was almost crying, wanting it so much, my skin smoldering red, my body quivering. I don’t know where it came from, but I knew I needed it. I had seen bondage websites before and had been interested, excited even at the images and stories, but to be begging for it…

“Just like your father,” she said her voice calm and soft, motherly. She slipped her foot out of reach and told me to stay, walking away before I could answer.

“You are one sick puppy,” Lisa mocked as she leaned in after Mom left the room. She slid her foot under my face and I started licking until Mom returned a few moments later.

I squealed as Mom without warning pulled my arms back behind me and I felt the harsh slap of metal as she locked a pair of handcuffs tightly about my wrists. I winced as they bit into my skin but she ignored my whimpering as she began looping nylon cord about my ankles, then my knees. Once she was satisfied she stood upright, her feet right before my face.

“We’ll go easy tonight,” she said as she placed a bare foot on my head. Queen and David Bowie sang of Pressure as she ground down pressing her toes into my face. “If you survive, maybe tomorrow there’ll be more.”

I looked up and saw her raising her skirt. I stared wide-eyed as she grabbed the waistband of her hose and slowly, erotically rolled them down her legs and eased them off. She balled them with a wicked grin as she stared at me. Suddenly she squatted again and stuffed the wadded nylon into my mouth. It tasted of her and I whimpered as she poked it deeply within my willing mouth. She grinned and stood.

“Hold those tonight,” she said. “I won’t seal them in yet. Maybe next time. I don’t want you choking. If there’s a problem, spit them out. Suck them clean though.” With that she placed her foot on my head and pressed. “Sleep tight, slave.”

My mother stepped off my head then, turned on her heel and strode away down the hall towards her room. I groaned rolling about on the floor and heard my sister snickering.


I felt her foot on my throat then as she pressed down. It smelled sweet and lotioned as I squirmed helplessly. “So hot,” she purred pressing down, making me gasp for breath. I glanced up and saw Lisa looking down on me fingering herself. I was rock hard. Finally she stepped off, quivering, shuddering with excitement.

“God…” she gasped again, pulling her hand from between her legs, her fingers dripping with her sex. She seemed to sway there for a moment, towering above me, finally focusing with a grin. “You are such a perv,” she said giggling then wandered away towards her room sort of staggering. She clicked off the living room light and a few moments later I heard her door close.

I lay there in the darkness squirming, writhing in my bonds. Where Mom had got the handcuffs I have no idea, but I was helpless at her hand and hard and my sister had no mercy enjoying my plight. I sucked on my mother’s hose tasting the lingering nastiness, wild-eyed and wide-awake and awaiting the third day of my enslavement, my servitude to my mother and sister…
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Default Re: Femdom Stories of mine

Story Name: Racquetball Bet
Author: Unknown

Chapter 5

I spent a long and restless night on the floor squirming in my bonds…

At my request- my begging actually my mother had tied me, ankles and knees and handcuffed my wrists behind my back, ‘Going easy’ she had said. She had topped the bondage off by stuffing her used, rank hose into my mouth ordering me to hold them in through the night and to suck them clean. I was in Heaven as she stood towering over me, mocking me as I squirmed on the floor with her pretty feet, toes wiggling just inches from my face.

I don’t know where the thought had come from or why I was so desperate to be tied, but at the time I had almost been crying when I had asked for it. I had been burning red with shame as I groveled before my mother, and I HAD been sobbing but it just seemed right. An overwhelming desire to be at her mercy, and that of my sister. I was hard and dripping as my mother had cinched the knots about my legs and tightened the ratchets of the cuffs about my wrists. I had whimpered at the taste of her pantyhose as her slender finger poked the wadded ball deeply into my mouth, the taste of her unwashed feet and womanhood roiling on my tongue as apparently all my licking did little to wash the hose of their odors. It took all my willpower not to root around on the floor like a pig in heat I was so hot and horny with lust.

And I wasn’t the only one. My sister did not even try to hide the act of fingering herself as I writhed helplessly at her feet after Mom had gone to bed. She quickly brought herself to orgasm as I squirmed, whimpering in that I was forbidden to cum myself, all the more excited while watching my sister’s ecstasy. I was humiliated and flushed a deeper shade of red that her actions were turning me on all the more.

But I was left to suffer then at my own desire. My sister had left me, clicking off the lights as she sashayed off to bed, mocking me as she went, calling me a perv. I whimpered into my gag in frustration as the living room was plunged into darkness, wanting more than anything to grind against the carpet and get off. I knew though that if I did that there would be some punishment in store the next day.

Mom had leveled against her inhibitions a bit that day and had actually slapped me when I had questioned her. I had no doubt that she would take me over her knee at least, maybe even whip me somehow if I broke her rules. That thought alone kept me raging. I did not want a beating, did not want to be hurt but the image in my mind’s eye of me naked over her lap as she laid into me was enough to make me roll onto my side, my little penis lolling long and harder than I had ever seen it, bulging in my sister’s borrowed panties.

And so I spent a miserable night drifting in and out of sleep caught between excitement and frustration. At one point I woke with my arms numb beneath me and had to struggle to roll over, flopping about like a fish out of water. Another time I woke with a cramp, my shoulders strained and burning and I sobbed rolling my arms until the pain finally died. I glanced at the red L.E.D. display of a clock on the bookshelf and saw then that it had not even been three hours.

I moaned into my pantyhose gag, my head thumping back to the floor…


“C’mon, slave. Wakey-wakey…”

My eyes popped open wide abruptly to feel the pain in my groin. It took a few moments to focus as I groaned, trying to roll away but helplessly pinned as the pressure increased. I finally settled on my back, on my arms and blinked trying to come awake.

I stared up at my mother towering over my helpless frame. She was smiling down at me wickedly, her dark red lips quivering with amusement, eyes sparkling with delight. She was wearing a slate gray business suit of jacket and dress pinstriped with a lighter shade of gray stripes and a dusky, dark blouse. Her long, dark hair framed her beautiful face as she leaned in a bit and the pressure on my balls increased.

“Nnnnn…” I whined staring at the felt gray pump she wore, the sharp toe resting on my balls, pressing down and making me writhe in agony. Her gorgeous legs, fit and long were meshed in smoky gray disappearing into the dark shadowy folds of her skirt. The sight was lost as she pressed down, my vision blurring with tears. I felt the toe of her pump as she gave a final twist and then stepped off.

“This will never do,” she tsk’d as she bent low resting her hands on her knees as she leered down at my helpless form. “With you tied up like this, you can’t get up before me and have breakfast ready.” She clucked her tongue and stood upright again, hands on hips. “Luckily you were smart enough to set up the coffee maker last night or there would have been hell to pay.

“Lucky for you too that I’m running late,” she said as she turned on a shapely heel and strode away. I could feel my hard on growing again, watching my mother as she walked about glorious and free while I remained bound and helpless. It was so exciting and humiliating and I did not know why such a simple act; her freedom and my helplessness could excite me so, but it did.

“Don’t have time for breakfast today anyway,” she said as she strolled back into the living room with her travel mug in hand. She went to the table by the front door where her purse lay and her briefcase sat on the floor. She started digging through her purse. “Meetings and a client that needs pampering,” she said with a frown as she pulled her keys from her bag. Then shouldered it and scooped up her valise. “No time to even untie you,” she said with a wicked grin, then her face became serious as she stared at me.

“Are you okay until Lisa gets up?” she asked looking at me long and hard. “Need water or anything?” She seemed seriously concerned and motherly.

I grunted into my gag then nodded that I was fine. In truth I wanted to be set free and needed to pee but I knew that Mom was in a rush so decided to tough it out.

“Okay.” She smirked and opened the door after blowing me an air kiss. “I’ll be home by six I imagine. Be good and obey your sister. Do your chores, slave boy. I’ve left a list.”

And with that she was gone…


I spent at least another hour on the floor dozing in and out of semi-consciousness. I would twist wrong and the cuffs would bite, even ratcheting tighter making me wake up and change position. I was still hard, but now from the increasing pressure of my need to pee. I was soon squirming again, uselessly trying to get comfortable.

Finally I heard sounds of movement coming from deeper in the house, my sister’s bedroom. I heard the toilet flush, which just increased my torment and I squeezed my thighs as tight together as I could manage.

“Good morning,” Lisa chimed merrily in a singsong voice as she finally strolled into the living room. I craned my neck to look up at her smiling face, obviously happy to see me still helpless on the floor. She was wearing her over-sized Jets jersey, her toes slipped into her black casuals with the heels trampled underfoot. Her legs were long and sexy, her hair tousled from sleep as she stepped right up by my face and peered down at me with a wicked grin.

“I’m surprised Mom left you like this,” she said as she raised her leg and ran the sole of her slipper along my thigh. She giggled. "Surprised but happy. I like you like this. Quiet and obedient…” she bit her lip, “and sexy too, even if you are my perv-o brother.”

“Nnnngggh…” I grunted as laughing, Lisa stepped right up on me and over as she padded away towards the kitchen. She was not heavy, but the weight added to my torture, making me squirm again to hold in my need to urinate. I was trembling and whimpering when she returned sipping a cup of coffee and holding a piece of paper a couple minutes later.

She must have realized that I was in some kind of discomfort as she set the cup and paper on the coffee table and knelt down next to me. “Are you okay?” she asked with a definite note of concern.

“Nnnn…” I moaned into my pantyhose gag, trying to push the wad out with my tongue but it was in too deep. I looked up at her pleadingly, opening my mouth wide and she finally got the hint.

“Sorry,” she said with a smirk, reaching her slender finger and thumb into my mouth to pluck out the sodden gag. She tossed the wad aside as I licked my dry lips.

“Please…” I whined, begging. “I have to pee. Untie me.”

Lisa laughed actually tilting her head back and slapping her thighs in delight. I blushed with the shame of having to beg my sister to go to the bathroom, but there was nothing else that I could do. I was at her mercy and helpless until she chose to let me go.

When she finally got her amusement under control she leaned closer. Still grinning widely she said, “Beg for it.”

“Please, Lisa,” I whined, my voice catching. “I’m serious. I really have to go bad. Please untie me.” Chuckling, Lisa leaned back again.

“Poor baby,” she cooed, “I think you forgot something.”

I stared up at her close to sobbing but she just grinned, cocking her head and waiting. I thumped my head back to the floor, my neck and shoulders aching from the strain of the odd angle.

“Please…” I whimpered, choking back a sob, hurting too much to think.

“Please… what?” she chided.

“MISS!” I shouted, my voice cracking as the sob finally burst free. “Please, Miss! Untie me. Let me go to the bathroom. Please…” I was burning with shame but did not care as I squirmed, ready to burst.

“I shouldn’t,” Lisa said obviously delighting in my misery, “but Mom would be pissed if you stained the carpet.” My sister laughed at her joke as she leaned in and I felt her fingers plucking at the knots in the ropes binding my knees and ankles. Mom had tied me tightly, but the knots were luckily simple and within seconds my legs were free. I raised my arms up so that Lisa could unlock the handcuffs, but to my shock she stood and stepped away. I looked up and saw her smirking over the rim of her coffee cup.

“My hands,” I begged waving my arms and twisting my wrists for emphasis. “Please, Lisa- Miss. Unlock my hands.”

“Sorry,” she said and took a sip of coffee. “I don’t know where Mom put the key.” She giggled again at the look of shock on my face. “Guess you’ll have to improvise.” Lisa settled on the arm of the sofa to watch me struggle, enjoying my torment. I could not believe she could be so sadistic. I sobbed again, but she simply stretched out her legs and crossed her feet at the ankles right by my face, so close that I could smell the nastiness of her worn shoes.

She was going to let me pee on the floor, not raising a finger to even help me up. I knew she would punish me if I did, and when Mom got home and heard I would get it again; worse no doubt. I whimpered as I squirmed about, holding back my need as I tried to get my legs and arms angled enough to get onto my knees. Lisa chuckled at my struggles, twisting her ankle to tease me with her foot, lifting her leg to nudge me with her toes.

“Please,” I whined thinking she was going to knock me over as I finally levered myself up onto my knees. She just laughed again and watched as I strained to get to my feet, almost losing it, as I had to spread my legs. Finally though I was up and hurried off towards the bathroom, Lisa’s laughter following me as I tried to run while holding my thighs together.

I was biting my lip with the agony in my bladder as I stared at the toilet. The lid was down of course and I had to turn and bend to grip the edge and finally flip it up with effort. My eyes were watering as I then frantically started tugging at my panties, feeling the dampness as I pulled them down far enough to release my penis, which sprang to attention aimed well away from the bowl and dribbling.

“Don’t make a mess, Loser,” my sister said from the open doorway. I had not even realized that she was watching me. “Piss on the floor and you’ll be licking it up.” She laughed as she leaned against the jamb, her eyes sparkling with amusement. She was thoroughly enjoying humiliating me and watching my degradation.

“Please…” I whimpered, tears welling as I danced from foot to foot. “I can’t aim.”

“So, sit and pee like a little girl, cry baby,” Lisa mocked. I sobbed and turned sitting with a thump even as the urine started to stream out. It sprayed on the toilet seat and floor until I scooted and leaned forward, hooking the head to bend my penis into the bowl. I was crying openly from relief as my bladder emptied, ignoring my sister’s laughter as she watched me. It was humiliating beyond belief, but at the moment shame was secondary to the pleasure of release.

I swear minutes ticked by before I finished but finally I sighed and sagged, breathing heavily with relief as the pain receded. “Get up, slave,” Lisa said with authority, still standing in the doorway. I looked up at her as embarrassment rolled over me again. Despite that she had stood witness to my most- well almost intimate act, I blushed that I was naked before her with my stained panties pulled down my hips. She was smirking as she stared at my now shriveled penis, shaking her head.

“You really are pathetic,” she said with a giggle. “I don’t know any guy that would put up with this. No REAL guy, anyway. Now get up.” Feeling stupid and ashamed I struggled to stand. There was no way to hide myself, not that it mattered. My sister had seen all I had to offer and was clearly not impressed.

“On your knees, piss boy.” I looked at her but she just glared at me, waiting for me to comply. Confused, I dropped to my knees before her. “Clean up that mess you made.”

I looked at the little drops of urine clinging to the toilet seat and puddled on the floor, then stared up at Lisa in shock. “What? You thought I was kidding? Lick, Loser.”

“Lisa… That’s gross.”


I yelped as the palm of her hand bounced off the back of my head. I was still an emotional wreck from my ordeal and the tears welled right back up as I looked to her. “Grosser than licking the dirt off my feet? Grosser than sucking on Mom’s pantyhose all night? Are you for real?”

I hung my head knowing that she was right. The things I had done, had begged for… What had started as a joke, a bet had turned into something else, something real and we were all enjoying my new role in life for different yet related reasons. Still I sobbed again, shuddering as I turned back to the toilet wondering just how far I would go, how far they would take me.

As Lisa laughed I leaned in and started licking, cleaning the mess I had made. I had had little more than water over the last couple days so it was not as bad as I imagined; bitter but after an initial wave of disgust it was bearable. My sister directed me to lick lower on the bowl to clean up the dribble and I did, then moved on to the floor. She kept me at it for a couple minutes, and I was fully aware of her towering over me, her tattered, well-worn shoes just at the edge of my sight but close enough to smell. Finally satisfied with the job I had done she told me to stop.

“Very good, slave,” she said as she leaned past me and raised the toilet seat. “Now put your head into the bowl.” Again I hesitated and again I received a slap on the back of the head. “Do it!” she snapped and reluctantly I leaned forward and lowered my head into the toilet bowl. I felt her cool hand on my neck as she pushed my face into the soiled water, laughing as I gurgled and shuddered in disgust. Finally she let me go, but only to let the seat drop on the back of my neck.

“Stay!” she ordered, and after a moment to make certain I would comply I heard her pad away…


Lisa returned several minutes later and I felt her lift the toilet seat up. I jerked back as the toilet suddenly flushed and without warning she shoved my head into the rushing water, giving me a ‘swirly’. I sputtered and gagged as she held me in place and I could hear her laughing as I struggled. Finally though the water stopped spiraling and as the bowl filled she released her grip.

Coughing and gasping, my hair drenched I looked up at my sister to find her dressed in a blue sports bra and black lycra bike pants, along with her New Balance mesh sneakers. Her hair was pulled back in a tail and she was fiddling with her I-Pod strapped to her arm. I knelt there on the bathroom floor with my head over the toilet, hair dripping until she finally spoke.

“Going for my run, slave,” she said as she worked an ear bud into place. “Mom left a long list of chores, but said at the bottom that she doesn’t expect everything to be done today. Lucky you. I suggest you stop goofing off and get to it.” Lisa plugged the other bud into her ear.

“But…” I started, then added, “Miss, aren’t you going to uncuff me? How can I work like this?”

“Not my problem, bitch. Your problem, and you better do a good job or Mom’ll beat your little, pantied ass when she gets home.” Lisa pressed the screen of her I-pod and I could hear the tinny, muffled music as it started to blast. “JOB LIST’S ON THE COFFEE TABLE,” she shouted over the music blaring in her ear and without another word she was off leaving me drenched, naked and kneeling on the bathroom floor.

I heard the front door slam shut and lock but I just knelt there for a few minutes, letting my hair drip dry and gathering my thoughts. I could not believe Lisa could be so cruel and I was definitely wondering just how far she would take me before my week of servitude was over. Mom too for that matter.

Both women seemed to lose whatever inhibitions they had as the week went on. Mom had stepped on my balls that morning without the slightest hesitation, and Lisa had just given me a ‘swirly’ like the school bully. She had ordered me to lick the toilet and floor clean, and worse, I had done it with only a little prompting.

I chewed on my lower lip as I knelt there, wondering what I had become…


Lisa was right in that Mom had left a long list of chores for me to do, way too much to manage in a single day. Vacuum, dust, laundry, windows, et cetera, the usual that one would expect, but there were other things too; demeaning jobs that I had never once saw her do.

Job number eight was to scrub the grout between the bathroom tiles with my toothbrush. Little did she know.

Number twelve was to scrub the baseboards and moldings in all the rooms.

Job twenty was to tongue polish every shoe in the house, my own included.

I wondered just how long Mom had taken to think up more and more humiliating things for me to do over the week. I sighed and picked a job that I figured I could do with my hands cuffed behind me then set to task. I was vacuuming the living room floor when my sister returned from her run…

Lisa smiled at me as she stepped into the house, looking about to see what I had accomplished in the hour or so that she had been gone. I knew that she and my mother sometimes just jogged through the neighborhood, but other times they went to the elementary school that Lisa and I had both attended just a few blocks away. It had a track surrounding a football field that was four laps equal to a mile. I had hated running that in gym, but Lisa had excelled in it and still loved to run.

“Still vacuuming, Loser?” she asked as she stepped into the living room dabbing at her sweat with a towel she had left near the door for her return. She was glistening, apparently having a good run as she draped the towel about her neck and took a sip of water from her bottle.

“Not much I can do cuffed like this,” I said, then hastily added, “Miss.” Lisa grinned.

“Well, I know something you can do,” she said as she flopped onto the sofa and dropped her feet onto the coffee table. “Take off my shoes and lick my feet. I had a good hard run and I bet they’re rank by now, just like you like.” Lisa snapped her fingers and pointed to the spot on the far side of the coffee table where I should kneel. I bowed my head and with my bare feet clicked off the vacuum and moved into position, kneeling before my sexy older sister and staring at her dirty running shoes.

I could smell the stench of her feet as I leaned in and kissed the sole of each shoe. The nylon mesh did little to mask the foul odor and I knew she had not showered today, so that made it all the worse.

“Undo the laces, slave.”

I tugged at the laces of her shoes, drawing them out and wrinkling my nose at the smell. When I had both shoes open wide she ordered my forehead to the table and she popped both shoes off the back of my head revealing her sweaty bare feet. The shoes tumbled to the floor and I knew at some point I would be cleaning them, but Lisa for now directed me to clean her feet of the sweat and grime. I leaned in and set to task, my tiny penis going rock hard as I licked at her rank soles.

I heard her cell phone ring as I was pressing my tongue to the arch of her foot, Ozzy Osborne’s Crazy Train blaring until she answered. I kept licking.

“Hey, babe,” she said to the phone with obvious pleasure, pressing her toes against my face. “How’s Denver? Omigod! You’re back?”

I knew that Lisa was talking to her boyfriend, Matt. Not quite the football team quarterback or star of the basketball team, he was still a jock; tall and muscular and easy on the eye. Lisa was bummed that he had gone to Denver with his family as soon as school let out for the summer, which was one reason we had taken to playing racquetball every day. Had Matt been around, my summer would have been very different indeed.

“Oh, God, yes! Come over! I miss you so much!”

I looked up as Lisa said that but she was oblivious. Fear raced through me and I wondered if she would expose me to her boyfriend. I could not imagine that she would, but she had already ordered me to do things I would never have imagined. She glanced at me and pointed at her feet. I got back to work.

“Okay… That sounds good. I’ll be ready, and I have a surprise too. Love you too.”

Lisa clicked off her cell phone and thumped me on the head with her heel. “I need to shower. I’m going to lunch with Matt. He’ll be here in about an hour.”

“Yes, Miss,” I said looking up at my sister as she stood.

“You get back to your chores.”

“Yes, Miss,” I said with a nod as she hurried off to her room. With a defeated sigh I struggled back to my feet and got back to the vacuuming…


I looked up my dusting the living room when the doorbell rang and Lisa called out from her room: “Get that, slave!”

I cringed and stared at the locked door. I could not believe she was going to expose me to her boyfriend, but apparently she did not care. Just as Mom had made me go to the door for last night’s pizza and I had been confronted by the delivery girl. And Robin our neighbor too. I stood there in a daze, too shocked to move when the doorbell rang again.

“Don’t make me come out there,” Lisa called out with annoyance.

I hurried to the door and undid the locks, luckily the chain was not done as it was out of reach with my hands cuffed behind me. I swallowed and took a deep breath, then awkwardly flung the door wide. I glanced at Lisa’s boyfriend before hanging my head at the sound of his gasp, blushing as a new level of humiliation washed over me. He had an initial shocked look on his face, his mouth dropping open for a moment, but then he gathered his wits and chuckled, shaking his head.

“Man, she said she had a surprise for me.” He laughed and shoved past me coming into the house. “I didn’t even think it’d be you, Jay. What the fuck is this?” I shut and locked the door. Turning, about to explain I saw Lisa striding into the living room.

“He lost a bet,” Lisa said ignoring me and embracing her lover. They kissed long and hard and I felt the fool standing there almost naked, dressed only in my sister’s soiled, frilly pink panties and handcuffs. I hung my head as Matt ran his hands over my sister’s tight denim clad ass, hugging her closer, she wrapping her arms about his neck, tonguing him deeply. After a few moments they finally broke, my sister pushing off his wide chest and looking out of breath as he looped an arm about her waist and gave me a smug look up and down.

“Lost a bet? Looks like he lost more than that, Hah!”

I blushed as my sister’s boyfriend laughed and Lisa went on to explain the racquetball match, how I lost and agreed to be a slave to her and my mother for a week. “It’s all in fun,” she concluded, giving Matt a quick kiss on the cheek. “He loves this, and it’s nice having someone do everything we say, all the chores around here.”

“He looks like a sissy in those panties,” Matt said with a laugh. “What all have you made him do?”

“Well, he does all the house and yard work…” My sister went on to tell her boyfriend all the chores that I had been forced to do over the last couple days. When she told him that I loved licking their feet and liked to be tied up he laughed louder, but I could see him eyeing me and I squirmed under his scrutiny. I was blushing in shame as Lisa told her boyfriend all my dirty secrets and she did not seem to care in the least.

“He likes feet, hunh?” Matt said with an evil grin as Lisa nodded and kissed him again. He pulled her tight and kissed her deeply leaving her gasping when he finally released her. She seemed to sway as he spoke up…

“On your knees, pansy!” he ordered. I looked to Lisa and her eyes were wide but then she nodded, smiling widely. I swallowed hard and dropped to my knees before Lisa and her boyfriend. I heard Matt chuckle above me as he slid a foot forward. “Kiss my boots, sissy.”

I stared at Matt’s foot, shod in a weathered black cowboy boot as Lisa’s own leather moccasins shifted and I knew that she was kissing him again. I knelt there feeling stupid for a moment, then heard her voice as her feet shifted again.

”Do it, slave,” Lisa commanded. “Lick his boots! Kiss his feet!”

I leaned in, crimson and trembling as I first kissed the toes of Matt’s well-worn, black, leather boots, then started licking them. The smell of the leather was overwhelming, more so than even Mom’s pumps but I caught the hint of his dirty foot odor within as well. His feet must really stink I thought to get past the boot smell. Still I licked dutifully as they both laughed hard at my latest degradation. Tears welled up in my eyes again, but to my shame I could feel I was rock hard again as well.

Finally Matt was apparently satisfied as he stepped back out of reach. I just knelt there with my head bowed, too ashamed to look up at either of them.

“God, I’ve seen everything now,” Matt said and my sister just laughed.

“Babe, you haven’t seen anything.” I shivered and swallowed at my sister’s threatening words wondering what she had in mind next, but she simply continued, “But later for that. I’m starving. Stupid here didn’t have any breakfast for me when I woke up. Not totally his fault I suppose.” Lisa was walking about the room, gathering her purse and cell phone I imagined.

“I guess not,” Matt agreed. “Can’t really cook with his hands cuffed like that.”

I blushed deeper as Lisa laughed. “Oh, he was worse than that. He begged to be tied up last night and Mom didn’t untie him before she left for work.”

“He was tied up all night?” Matt asked incredulously but I could hear a definite excitement in his voice at the thought. I finally glanced up as Lisa returned to his side and as expected saw a bulge in his jeans. I still could not look at their faces, and I wondered if Lisa had caught the hint in his tone.

“About eight or nine hours by the time I got up. Not too hardcore though. The cuffs and Mom tied his knees and ankles.” She laughed and I saw her foot sweep the carpet kicking Mom’s stiff, wadded up pantyhose into view. “She even gagged him with her pantyhose.” I wondered if my skin had achieved neon red yet as they laughed at me again.

“I would have loved to have seen that,” Matt said and I saw Lisa’s hand slide over his crotch.

“I bet you would,” she purred with delight. “Who’s kinky now?” They kissed again and I saw Lisa’s foot raise slightly with her enjoyment, the heel of her shoe popping free. Finally though her foot lowered again and I could hear her breathing heavily, obviously as excited as her boyfriend. “Well, why not?”

I blinked at that and finally looked up to find Lisa grinning down at me with a wicked gleam in her eyes. Matt was staring at her in confusion. “Why not what?” he asked.

“Tie him up while we go to the mall.” My eyes got huge at that, my mouth dropping open.

“Lisa!” I squealed in shock. “You can’t – “ Her hand thumped off the side of my head and set my ear to ringing from the force of the slap. I was still riding my emotional roller coaster and the tears were swiftly back in my eyes. Lisa roughly grabbed my chin and leaned in close.

“I think Mom told you that ‘can’t’ is no longer in your vocabulary, slave boy. AND since you didn’t call me Miss, you WILL get tied up, and worse this time.” She shook my head and let me go, stepping off to get the ropes she had discarded earlier.

I looked at Matt but he was staring after her in disbelief. It was probably a side to my sister that he had never seen, or even expected existed. Hell I had never known and wondered what other dark secrets we all shared.

“Help me, babe,” Lisa said as she returned with the ropes Mom had used on me the night before. Matt blinked as though coming out of a daze and glanced at me. He licked his lips as he glanced at me, then swallowed.

“Okay… sure. What do you want me to do?” he asked as Lisa’s smile widened with his compliance.

“Get him on his belly,” she almost ordered it seemed to me, then giggled. “And don’t worry. He likes it rough.”

Matt’s shock and confusion seemed to melt away as he nodded and grinned. He stepped up to me and grabbed, one hand gripping the chain of my handcuffs, the other cradling my stomach. He grunted but actually hoisted me into the air before forcing me to the carpet, thumping me down hard enough that the air gushed out of my lungs. Lisa laughed as I gasped for breath.

“Hold him down,” Lisa said and I felt Matt’s knee painfully dig into my back as his hands pushed roughly down on my shoulders. Lisa stepped behind me and a moment later I felt her looping one of the ropes about my ankles, cinching them tighter and tighter with every turn.

“Lisa…” I whined as my breath returned, then corrected myself. “Miss… Please don’t do this.”

I yelped as the flat of her hand slapped fiercely against the back of my thigh. Tears were trickling down my cheeks now as I tried to struggle and squirm but I knew there was no way I could get free. I whimpered as Lisa knotted off my ankles, then gasped as she grabbed my bound legs and folded them up at the knees, pressing my heels against my cuffed wrists.

“Take that rope and tie his wrists to his ankles,” Lisa said to Matt. He didn’t respond, so I assumed he nodded as a moment later his hands left my shoulders and he started to wrap the second rope as instructed.

First he looped a slipknot over my feet and pulled it tight against my ankles. He started then to tie it to the short handcuff chain but Lisa stopped him.

“No. Tie his wrists to his ankles. And pull it tight.”

I grunted in pain as Matt complied, silent as he wrapped the rope about my ankles and wrists several turns and several knots. Tears were streaming down my cheeks at the harsh treatment but neither of them seemed to care. I could tell they were both getting aroused as I sobbed and whimpered, and my own erection was bone hard under me as I squirmed. Finally though he ran out of rope and I assumed they were done with me. Of course I was mistaken again.

Lisa got up and strolled around in front of me. I saw her pick up the discarded pantyhose as she knelt by my head. “Open,” she commanded as she coiled a fist in my hair and pulled my head roughly back causing me to moan.

“Lisa. Plemmmppphhhh!” I started, quickly silenced as my sister stuffed the stiff and soiled nylon back into my mouth. She giggled as she poked it in as deep as she could until I was gagging and snuffling through my nose.

“Mmmmnnn…” I moaned as she settled back on her heels.


My eyes went wide as I looked up and in a flash of that moment Lisa slapped a long strip of duct tape over my lips. She smoothed it down, then applied three more strips plastering my lower face before she was satisfied. I moaned pathetically, pleading into my gag for her not to do this, to let me go but she just laughed and stood tossing the tape roll to the coffee table.

I was already sore from the night before but now my shoulders were burning from the stretched out position. I could feel the muscles in my legs complaining as well as I writhed about on the floor at the feet of my sister and her boyfriend. I was snuffling as I looked up at them, my eyes blurry with tears, barely able to see them kissing.

“I don’t think he can breathe too good,” Matt said when they finally broke again.

“Mmmm… “ Lisa said, then squatted down beside me. She held the rag that I had been dusting with to my nose. “Blow,” she commanded and I did, several times until my breathing returned to normal.

“Stop the bawling, slave,” she said and I felt her fingers probing between my legs, pinching my tiny hard-on. She giggled. “You know you love this, but if you keep crying you won’t be able to breathe.” I struggled not to start in again as she stood and gathered her things again, shouldering her purse.

“You sure he’ll be okay like this?” Matt asked and I could hear some concern in his voice. “What if there’s a fire or something?”

I heard my sister give a heavy sigh. “We’ve lived here like, forever. Why would there suddenly be a fire?” Matt shrugged.

“I dunno. Just Murphy’s Law I guess.”

“Whateverrrr…” Lisa stalked away and a moment later held up my cell phone when she returned. She set it on the floor beside me.

“Mom is Speed Dial Number One. I’m Number Two. Anything happens call one of us and we’ll come running. Understand?” I moaned into my gag and Lisa thumped me with the soft leather toe of her moccasin. “Understand?” I nodded.

“Happy now?” she asked her boyfriend and I heard her jangling her keys.

“Yeah…” he answered and I could hear the breathy excitement in his voice. I groaned again but they ignored me, stepping over me and going to the door.

“We’ll be gone a couple hours tops, slave,” Lisa said as I heard Matt’s cowboy boots clomping down the steps outside. “You be good and enjoy your Quiet Time.”

Lisa’s laughter clipped short as the door slammed shut. I heard her keys, the locks bolting and a bit later the sound of a car revving to life. Soon though that was gone as they drove away and the only sounds in the house was a clock ticking somewhere and the harsh labor of my muffled breathing…

Last edited by jahampanah; Yesterday at 02:24.
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Default Re: Femdom Stories of mine

Story Name: Racquetball Bet
Author: Unknown

Chapter 6

I heard the sound of Matt’s car outside, doors slamming shut, engine roaring to life and finally a squeal of tires as he pulled the car into the street and raced away. I thumped my forehead to the carpeted floor trying not to sob with the realization of just how totally alone and helpless I now was…

It had started out as a joke; a racquetball bet between my mother, sister and I with the loser being the slave of the winner for a week. I had lost, easily I might add, and had agreed thinking that I would simply being doing all the chores and probably waiting on them for my indentured servitude. Over the course of the week however, hell the very first day we all quickly learned that we were all very excited by my new, temporary status in life and things began to escalate as my mother and sister took to abusing me and humiliating me in more and more degrading ways. I was dressed in Lisa’s frilly pink panties and the skimpy bottoms of one of her swimsuits while doing my chores. Of course I waited on them hand and foot, but the latter actually included me on my hands and knees and licking and kissing their shoes and feet. Even that though was just a start as Lisa later made me kiss the shoes of our neighbor, and Mom the shoes of the pizza delivery girl. I have been verbally abused and even slapped and beaten if I somehow failed to please them. And I had loved it all, at least until this morning.

I don’t know why I found it so hot being under their thumbs or feet even more literally, but I did. I was almost constantly hard and excited by the things they did to me and made me do; ordering me about and humiliating me. I loved it, and loved them for it and tried to show it with a passion to comply with whatever they demanded of me. I had even begged to be tied up by them, something I had fantasized about but never hoped to experience. Being a fairly typical teenage boy with Internet access I had of course secretly visited Porn sites on the web and while again being typical and found the sight of naked women exciting I soon found myself drawn more and more to some of the darker, kinkier sites, most of those dealing with Bondage and Femdom. Which is why I so readily fell into my new role I suppose and was hard and horny as Mom lightly bound and gagged me at my request for the night.

Lisa had kicked things up several notches this morning however, finding me still tied up this morning as Mom had not had the time to free me, running late to work. Lisa had teased and taunted me, keeping me bound and humiliated to the point where I had almost wet myself before she let me use the bathroom. Still I had made a mess, which she promptly demanded I clean up licking my own piss from the toilet and bathroom floor. At that point I had thought that I could sink no lower in my degradation, but she proved me wrong making me kiss and lick her boyfriend’s filthy cowboy boots, before they hog-tied and gagged me and left for the mall…
Now I was writhing in pain and moaning into my gag praying that they were just joking and would return to free me any moment. My mind was a flurry with all the things that might go wrong: a fire, a robbery, earthquake, terrorist attack, and I would be here bound and gagged and helpless. Obviously my imagination was running wild, but still as Matt had mentioned ‘Murphy’s Law’, the threat lingered and I was worried.

And I was hard and dripping I realized as I squirmed about trying to ease the pain as the minutes ticked by, the clock on the living room wall making the only other sound in the otherwise empty house. I could feel the bulge under me as I rolled my shoulders trying to ease the strain of the severe tie that Lisa had left me in, and the dampness in my panties. I moaned as the pain shifted to the muscles in my thighs, whining then as my legs cramped from the tight, bent position they had been forced into. It was a truly cruel position and I swiftly realized that there would be no relief. My wrists and ankles hurt from the constant pull, my shoulders ached from the strain of the odd angle and all my muscles seemed to scream in rage every time I shifted even slightly.

I don’t know how much time passed after I had given up trying to get free. I had tried to pick at the knots that held my wrists to my ankles, but they were too well tied and out of reach besides the fact that my fingers seemed to be going numb. I tried not to cry as my muscles cramped up, knowing that if my nose clogged with snot I would soon find it harder and harder to breathe as Lisa had thoroughly gagged me with my mother’s worn pantyhose and a swath of duct tape. I concentrated on staying calm and breathing evenly, consigning myself to the fact that I was trapped until Lisa returned to free me…


I woke with a start eyes blinking wearily as I shifted about wondering what was going on. I immediately remembered as pain lanced through my tightly bound body with my sudden movement, making me whine into my gag. Tears welled up in my eyes it hurt so bad, my shoulders and neck, wrists and ankles, arms and legs. I tried to control my thrashing about, but my spasming, twitching muscles would not allow it and I was soon sobbing in torturous agony.

I craned my neck as I heard something and looking around I saw sunlight streaming through the front windows of the house. Listening to the dull, monotonous ticking of the clock I must have dozed off and could tell that it must be after noon now by the glow of light illuminating the curtains, shafts of sun peeking through the edges, dust floating in the rays. I strained looking towards the doorway blocked mostly by the sofa as I heard the noise again. Keys turning in the locks! I moaned as I heard the front door open, sobbing again but at the prospect of freedom rather than the pain.


My eyes went wide in confusion to hear my mother’s voice and the distinctive clack of her heels as she stepped into the foyer. I wondered why she was home, sensing that it was not late enough for her to be off work for the day. Then I realized that I did not care why and was simply happy that she was back, no matter the reason. I groaned into my gag trying to get her attention but she called out again.

“Lisa! I wonder where they are?” she said talking to herself I thought.

“Maybe they’re out back.”

I froze in shock to hear the other unexpected voice. A woman’s voice and naggingly familiar though then and there I was in no state to even try to think who it might be. I felt my skin tingling as the humiliation returned, my tiny cock stirring again as I knew that I was about to be exposed to yet another person; a woman and apparently a friend of my mother. I thumped my head to the carpet again and closed my eyes, softly breathing and wishing that I could sink into the floor but listening intently all the while.

“Maybe,” my mother replied as I heard the second set of footfalls, heels clicking on the linoleum entry followed by the closing door. “Grab a seat and I’ll go check.”

“Okay, Jen.” I heard the woman say as my mother strolled off to the kitchen. Softer footfalls as her guest stepped into the living room, the sound of her purse thumping to the floor. “Oh… My… God…”

I squeezed my eyelids tighter knowing that I had been discovered, then in the silence resigned myself to my fate and slowly opened them again. I saw a pair of feet situated just a few inches from my face, appearing large at the odd angle. They were shod in low-heeled, brown leather loafers that looked somewhat scuffed and wrinkled, creased with age, wear and tear. They were close enough that I could smell that now familiar leather scent, rich and sweet but almost overwhelmed by the odor of sweat and feet that had become all too familiar as well. The feet shifted as I craned my neck again, my gaze sliding up the somewhat plump legs sheathed in tan nylon, past the brown tweed skirt and well-rounded hips, the dark, silky blouse and the full mounds of the woman’s breasts to finally settle on her face. Despite the look of shock, the round ‘O’ of her red lips and wide staring eyes I recognized my mother’s guest finally placing the voice with the face.

Mrs. Henderson worked with my mother at Citibank, a loan officer like Mom. She was widowed in her fifties, and though plump still pretty with dusty blond hair just streaking gray in spots, big blue eyes and a pleasant smile, usually. Right now however that pretty face was pale with the shock of finding me bound and gagged on the floor no doubt. I had met her first years ago at the bank Mom often invited her over for dinner or summer barbecues. I knew that she and my mother were very good friends, but I could not believe that Mom had brought her home and wondered what she had been thinking. Well, no doubt intending to show off her slave but she had obviously not prepared her friend for this. Or maybe she had…

As I stared up at Mrs. Henderson with teary, pleading eyes I saw her expression change. The initial shock slowly faded away as she relaxed, her eyes sparkling as she took in my bound and helpless form tightly bundled on the floor at her feet. I burned with increasing shame as I watched her lips twist into a wide smile and finally chuckling with obvious delight at what she saw. I closed my eyes and put my forehead back to the carpet as she laughed.

“Jennifer,” she called out as she caught her breath between laughs. “I found Jay!” I heard my mother’s foot steps as she returned to the living room a few moments later followed by her own gasp.

“Oh, my god!” she exclaimed, then laughed herself. “I cannot believe she still has him tied up. Lisa!” my mother called out again then after no response headed off to check the rest of the house. I could hear her opening doors, calling my sister’s name while I just lay there burning with humiliation. I knew before I chanced a peek that Mrs. Henderson had not moved and was in fact still staring down at me, her feet still right before my face.

“She’s not here,” I heard my mother say, anger lacing her voice as she stormed back into the living room and stepping into my line of sight to stand beside her friend. I stared, shifting my gaze between my mother’s favorite black pumps and her guest’s well worn loafers, trying not to squirm as my erection grew again, my penis plumping back up with the shame I was feeling.

“I do not believe she left him alone here like this!” my mother snapped furiously. I watched as my mother’s feet shifted and she squatted down before me. I felt her fingers twine in my long, sweaty hair and yelped into my gag as she made a fist and jerked my head up to look me squarely in the face. Her dark eyes were crackling as she stared at me with an intensity that sent a painful shiver through my tightly bound body.

“Good lord,” she said as I felt her sharp fingernails picking at the ends of the duct tape plastered to my face. Without warning she quickly jerked, ripping it away and causing me to yelp again. Shaking her head she plucked the wadded hose from my mouth and tossed the packing aside as I licked my dry lips. I saw my mother’s face soften a bit as she watched me, with Mrs. Henderson still hovering in the background.

“Are you all right, Jay?” she finally asked and just for a moment I saw the mother I used to have full of love and concern. She still had a firm grip in my hair however, and I noted that she had made no move to untie me.

“Hurts…” I moaned and her lips twitched into a smirk.

“I imagine it does. How long have you been like this?”

“I dunno…” I said wishing she would let go of my hair. The pain in my neck was getting worse from her holding my head up. “Since before noon.”

“Jesus…” Mom hissed frowning again. “Two hours at least. And just where is your sister?”

“Went to the mall with Matt.” I winced as her grip tightened with that news.

“Matt? He was here? He saw you like this?” she asked incredulously, tilting my head even farther back.

“Yes!” I whined, tears welling again at the pain. I don’t think Mom even realized what she was doing to me. “He helped Lisa tie me up! Mom… Please! It hurts!”

“I cannot believe this,” my mother said finally releasing my hair and standing up. My head slammed to the floor as I rocked forward again sobbing in relief as the pain started to ease. Mom stepped away again and when I opened my eyes I saw Mrs. Henderson’s feet before me again. I could hear my mother ranting from the far side of the living room.

“Wait till I get my hands on… Lisa! Don’t ‘Hi Mom’ me. Where the hell are you?” I assumed my mother was on her cell phone then, talking to my sister. Mrs. Henderson meanwhile had taken to circling me and was now taking in my predicament from behind. I gasped as I felt the toe of her shoe tap against my pantied balls and heard her giggle.

“I can’t believe you left him here like this!” my mother continued, her voice rising in volume. “Yes, I’m home! Which is where you better be and damn quick! You are in SO much trouble!” I shivered as I felt Mrs. Henderson’s fingers brush my skin, goosebumps rising as she touched the knots of my bindings. I could hear her breathing hard, obviously excited.

“No… he’s fine. Just get your ass home and I’ll explain why… I don’t care… Now, Lisa!” I heard the chime as my mother broke the connection ending the call with a heavy sigh. She walked over to stand opposite her friend, the two women towering over me.

“I’m so sorry about that, Sally,” my mother said with sincerity. I cannot believe Lisa was so irresponsible to leave him home alone like this.” I heard Mrs. Henderson chuckle.

“No worries, Jen,” she said. “You promised me a special treat at lunch but I never imagined this,” she laughed. “But don’t be too mad at your daughter. He doesn’t seem any the worse for wear.”

“No,” Mom agreed nudging me with the toe of her shoe and eliciting a grunt out of me. “No, he’s not. That’s not the point though. You just don’t leave someone alone and tied up like this. If something happened, God forbid, he’d be helpless.”

“Well, she did leave a cell phone for him,” Mrs. Henderson said as her foot shifted brushing my face as she gently tapped my phone that Lisa had left for emergency. Like I’d be able to Speed Dial with my nose and grunt into the phone if the house was burning down around me.

“That hardly makes it right,” my mother said with another heavy sigh. “Well, I’ll deal with her later. Give me a hand here.”

Both women knelt down, one on either side of me and started to pick at the knots holding me bound wrists to ankles. I took awhile and some effort as the constant pull and my struggles had really tightened the ropes and they chatted seemingly casually about that as I grunted and moaned with their efforts. Finally though I felt the cords unwinding and Mrs. Henderson eased my legs out straight and placed my feet gently to the floor. As she started undoing the rope binding my ankles I felt my mother unlocking the handcuffs that had been biting into my wrists since the night before.

I groaned in ecstasy as feeling flowed back into my limbs, finally free. I just lay there for a moment breathing hard and fighting back the sobs of joy that were threatening to bubble up and out of me. Mom must have sensed that I needed a few moments and as the two women stood again, said, “Go get cleaned up when you can, Jay. And rub some lotion on your wrists. They’re chaffing. Don’t take too long, though. We’re taking a long lunch but we don’t have that much time. Come join us when you’re done. C’mon, Sally. Let’s see what we can find to eat.”

Without another thought both women strolled off to the kitchen leaving me sprawled on the living room floor. I was still aching and exhausted from the bondage that my sister had left me in, but my mind was swirling with what was happening. I could not seem to comprehend how everyone seemed to be taking this all in stride, the slavery and now the bondage like it was some common place, everyday thing. Robin and the pizza girl, Matt and now Mrs. Henderson all seemed to have no problem at all seeing me degrade myself and helpless, even abused. I was glad of course as I did not want someone reporting any of this to the police. I could only imagine Mom would go to jail and Lisa and I would end up wards of the state in foster homes or something worse.

I shuddered at that thought as I finally, slowly found the strength to get up to my hands and knees. The thought truly worried me, but too I figured that Mom knew what she was doing and who she could trust. Lisa on the other hand I was not so sure about. I would mention my concerns to Mom when I had the chance but right then I wanted nothing more than to get cleaned up and rub down my aching muscles. I crawled off to the bathroom then to do just that…


As much as I wanted to take a long, hot bath or shower to work the kinks out of my body I had to satisfy myself with just a warm wash cloth as Mom had said to hurry. I used the toilet after washing off and finally rubbed lotion into my red and raw wrists and ankles, noting that the skin had rubbed away a bit. I was finally feeling a little better when fifteen minutes later or so I made my way back into the living room, crawling of course.

I found my mother and Mrs. Henderson both seated on the sofa and watching some after noon talk show on television. They had made finger sandwiches I saw, two still situated on a plate set on the coffee table and both women had a glass of wine in hand. Mom smiled as I crawled up beside the sofa, her high-heeled pump dangling from her toes as she bobbed her leg.

“Feeling better, Jay?” she asked taking a sip of her wine. I was a bit surprised that she was still calling me Jay as I had slipped back into my slave mode thinking that that was what she wanted. I nodded however, gladdened by her concern.

“Yes, Ma’am,” I said feeling my erection stirring, knowing that she and Mrs. Henderson were totally focused on me and enjoying my submissiveness.


“A little, Ma’am,” I answered, lying. Truthfully I was starving as the last I had eaten was the slice of pizza the night before that Mom had chewed for me and spat on the floor. “I can wait though,” I continued, knowing that she wanted to put me through my paces before her friend.

“Of course you can,” she said with a chuckle, swinging her leg and popping her shoe on and off of her heel, knowing no doubt that she was driving me crazy with that simple, feminine act. I chanced a quick glance and saw that Mrs. Henderson had her legs crossed as well, which only worsened my condition. She twirled her ankle a bit, following my gaze. I had to wonder just how much my mother had shared with her or if she simply knew how to tease.

“Well, if you’re good maybe you’ll get a snack later,” my mother continued taking another sip from her glass. “For now I think Sally would like to find out what a good little foot slave you are. She was complaining this morning about her sore, tired feet and I told her I had just the thing to make her feel better.”

“And I had no idea she meant you, Jay,” Mrs. Henderson added.

“Call him slave, Sally,” Mom said with a widening grin, “or whatever you like. Loser… Sissy… Bitch. For this week, Jay does not exist.” Mrs. Henderson laughed.

“Okay, Jen,” she agreed, finishing her own glass of wine and setting it aside on the table beside the sofa. She uncrossed her legs and put both feet flat on the floor side by side. “Your mother… Your owner says you like feet, boy…” She pointed imperiously and with flourish at her dusty brown loafers. “Show me. Kiss my shoes!” she demanded and I nodded.

“Yes, Ma’am,” I said and crawled before her. I immediately smelled the leather as I drew closer and saw again that the shoes were old and well worn with scuffmarks on the toes and along the edges. The leather looked soft and supple and I figured that these, like my mother’s black pumps, were her favorite work shoes and worn often. As I pursed my lips I could again smell her foot odor and sweat from the summer heat. I wrinkled my nose but did as ordered and kissed the toecaps of Mrs. Henderson’s shoes, blushing furiously as the two women laughed.

“Mmmm… “ she said after a few moments. “That’s nice. It’s been so long…”

And it was then that I knew why Mom had brought Mrs. Henderson into the mix. Her husband had died in the 9/11 attack on the World Trade Towers, a passenger on the second plane that hit the South Tower that horrible day. I heard a sadness in her voice as I kissed the leather of her shoes and knew that her husband must have done this for her in the past. Her own melancholy transferred to me and I kissed for all that I was worth wanting to make her happy.

She kept me there for a few minutes enjoying my devotion before she instructed, “You can massage my feet now, slave. Take my shoes off.” Her voice was soft and husky as I did as she ordered.

I felt my cock jerk as the smell of her feet and shoes hit me full force. It was pungent and rank, sweaty from months of wearing the loafers in all kinds of weather, in socks and nylon or bare feet. The scent of the leather was intoxicating, her feet overwhelming as I sniffed leaning in and extending my tongue to lick even as my fingers rubbed lovingly. I pressed my thumbs into her arches and heard her moans of delight as she settled back into the sofa.

“Ohhh… that feels wonderful…” she whispered, enjoying the attention.

“I told you,” my mother said as she stood and gathered the wine glasses. “Enjoy,” she added as she strolled off to the kitchen. I rubbed and massaged Mrs. Henderson’s big wrinkled feet, pressing my fingers into the soft flesh, massaging and passionately kissing until my mother returned and handed her friend her glass refilled.

“Normally I’d make him do that, get the wine, but I want you to have fun.” Mom sat and recrossed her legs watching me as I debased myself at her friend’s feet. We all started as we heard the locks in the front door suddenly rattle and the door opened. Lisa I assumed, but I was too busy to look.

“About time,” I heard my mother say, her voice suddenly cold as Lisa came into the room the front door shutting and locking behind her. I continued kissing and massaging but listening as well.

“Hi, Mrs. Henderson… Mom…” Lisa said but her voice seemed timid. She apparently knew she was in trouble and I assumed she was watching me. I kept licking.

“What do you have to say for yourself?” my mother asked coolly. There was silence for a long moment save for the sound of the ticking clock and my ministrations.

“Matt came home from Colorado,” Lisa said sheepishly. “I wanted to see him.”

“So you tied up your brother and left him here alone and helpless?”

“Yeah…” Lisa answered, hemming. “I was only gonna be gone a couple hours.”

“You DO NOT… EVER leave someone tied up and alone, PERIOD! I don’t care that we’ve never had a fire or a break in. You DO NOT do that. Am I clear?”

“Yes, mother…”

“Lose the attitude and go to your room. No TV! No music! No phone or computer! You’re grounded till I say otherwise.”

“Mom…” Lisa whined but my mother was not hearing it.


I sensed more than saw Lisa as she shuffled off to her room. Her door almost slammed shut as my mother sighed. Mrs. Henderson laughed twisting her foot so I could lick at the arch. “My Kelly was just as bad. Lisa will grow out of it too. She’s a good kid.”

“I know,” my mother said and I felt her legs drop onto my back to use me as a foot stool as I attended her friend. “I have two very good kids. One more so than the other at the moment.” Both women laughed as my mother ground the heel of her shoe into my back making me whimper.

They kept me licking and massaging Mrs. Henderson’s feet for a few more minutes before they realized that they had to get back to work. I knelt before them as Mrs. Henderson slipped her feet back into her loafers telling me to give them a final, farewell kiss, which I did.

”That was wonderful,” she said as she stood and shouldered her purse. My mother stood and did likewise while I just knelt there staring at their, pretty feet. “Thanks, Jen.”

“Any time, Sally,” my mother said standing before me. “He loves it and you’re more than welcome to use him any time you like.”

“Oh, I will,” Mrs. Henderson said as she moved towards the door. “Count on it.”

“Slave…” my mother said as she moved her own foot under my face. I leaned in and kissed the tip of her shoe. “You’re behind in your chores. Not your fault I realize, but regardless, you'll have to be punished when I get back. I suggest you get busy and do what you can before I get back home.”

“Yes, Ma’am,” I said, kissing her shoe again. She laughed.

“Good boy. Get crackin’.”

And without another word they left…


“This is like, SO unfair…”

I paused from my chore, scrubbing the grout in between the kitchen floor tiles with my toothbrush on my knees and looked up at my sister. She was leaning in the door frame, arms crossed beneath her breasts and watching me. She was dressed in her jeans and a shell top, her soft moccasins on her feet and her ankles crossed. I noticed too what looked like her studded leather belt draped about her shoulders and briefly wondered why. She looked angry and put upon as I turned back to my chore scrubbing harder, figuring I was in for it.

“Like I gotta baby-sit you 24/7? What the fuck is up with that?”

“Mom was just concerned,” I offered. I felt her studded belt leather slam down on my back causing me to jerk and yowl in pain. I scrubbed all the harder,

“No one asked you, snitch. That was rhetorical. Keep working, bitch” I felt my cock harden as she strolled across the room. Her studded leather belt trailing in her wake as she grabbed a bottle of water from the refrigerator. She popped the cap and took a drink as I licked my dry lips, thirsty as hell.

“I can’t believe you ratted me out,” she said leaning against the kitchen counter.

“Mom asked where you were,” I said looking up at her scowling face then eyeing the wide strap of leather dangling from her fingers. “I couldn’t lie to her.”

“You could’a fibbed,” Lisa said setting down her bottle. She gripped the buckle of the belt as she strolled about me, circling me. “You could’a said I went to 7-11 or something and I’d be back any minute.” She stopped in front of me, her soft brown moccasins right before my face. I could smell the leather, see her toes wiggling under the supple material.

Lisa hawked and a glob of spit fell to the linoleum floor right between her feet. “You missed a spot,” she said deadpan. I stared at the spittle a moment in disbelief, suspecting what was coming then finally leaned forward with my toothbrush to clean it up. I yelped as her foot came down hard on my hand, moaning as she shifted her weight forward and ground her sole against my skin.

“Lick it up, loser,” she ordered and I nodded leaning in, my face moving to the floor.


I whined as Lisa’s belt slammed down on my back, pain shocking through me. Tears welled in my eyes as I sucked back a sob even as the belt lashed into my skin again.

“I don’t see you licking,” she hissed beating me again. I quickly leaned into the floor and started licking up her spit as she ground her heel into my hand and continued whipping me...


I had cleaned over the hours, the generic, mundane tasks and was now on my knees in the living room plucking lint from the carpeting as per my mother’s penned instructions. Lisa had been over-seeing throughout, slapping me with her studded leather belt every chance she got, whenever she felt I was lagging, which seemed every couple of minutes. She was apparently taking out her frustrations and aggressions on me after Mom had read her the riot act and grounded her. My back had become a series of criss-crossing red welts and burning with pain when we heard the keys unlocking the front door.


“Keep working, slave,” my sister said as, my mother came home, shutting and locking the door behind her. She dropped her purse to the floor and strolled into the room.

“How’s he been?” my mother asked stepping up to me as I picked at the tiny pieces of dirt that I found in the carpet, dropping them into a plastic grocery shopping bag that I was dragging around with me. I glanced briefly at her sexy shoes watching her feet shift then got back to my task.

“Good,” my sister said, surprisingly. I had expected her to say that I had been loafing or lagging or giving her attitude, but she did not. I wondered why. “He’s been very docile and compliant, doing all his chores.”

“Good,” my mother said as she plopped down in the recliner and leaned back, her feet propping as the footrest extended. “You know you have to be punished.”

“C’mon, Mom,” Lisa whined. “I wasn’t gone that long and he was fine.”

“I know.” Mom settled back, crossing her ankles. “But you do NOT leave someone unattended and tied up like that. It is just wrong. So many things could happen. You are damn lucky they didn’t.”

“I know… “ I heard the trepidation in my sister’s voice. She seemed genuinely sorrowful.

“So, how many strokes do you think you deserve?” my mother casually asked and I looked up in shock and saw my sister flush red.

“N-None…” Lisa said with a stutter. “I- I’ve learned me lesson.”

“I doubt that,” my mother said as she took and unfurled Lisa’s studded leather belt. I could sense Lisa’s panic. She had not been expecting this. I was ecstatic.

“What about you, slave? How many strokes do you think are deserved of this infraction?” My mother laughed at her own words. I swallowed and thought, then after a moment spoke.

“Fifty!” I said, sure of my answer, relishing the thought of my sister getting what she deserved. A good beating…

“Fifty it is then. Assume the position, slave.” I stared at my mother as she quickly got up and swished the belt through the empty air a few times in practice. I was confused. If my sister was going to be punished, why did I have to assume the position, draped over the arm of the sofa?

My mother dangled the belt and smiled at me. “You didn’t think I was going to beat Lisa did you? You’re the slave and ‘Whipping Boy’. Lisa WILL be grounded, but you take her pain. Now bend your ass over the sofa and get in position, loser. You have fifty strokes to take.”



I yowled as the belt slashed down on my already tender back. I was quickly sobbing again, groveling on the floor between them. I could not believe this.


I scrambled to my feet, looking at Lisa before I flopped over the arm of the sofa. Her eyes were wide with surprise as I buried my face in the cushions. The belt slashed at my tender skin and I yowled as I crumpled leaning over the arm of the couch.

“Count!” my mother commanded as she lashed the belt over my ass. I heard my sister giggling now as I shouted, my voice muffled by the sofa’s seat cushion…


The belt slammed home again…


And again…

And again…


I was still sobbing over an hour later when my mother finally spoke to me again…

I was standing in the corner of the living room where my mother had directed me after the 50 strokes I had endured for Lisa’s punishment. She had dragged me off of the sofa’s arm and shoved me ignoring my whining and crying much to Lisa’s delight. I could hear my sister giggling as my mother stood behind me, following as I shuffled into the corner with my panties still draped about my ankles

“Hands behind your head,” she had said and I complied locking my fingers together behind my neck. I felt her soft hand on the back of my head as she eased it forward until my forehead was touching the corner where the walls came together. “Stop that sniveling!” she snapped her hand slapping against the already red and tender skin of my ass. I jerked and tried to stifle my crying, but my butt seemed on fire. It had never hurt so badly.

“You’ll stay like that until I think you’ve learned your lesson,” my mother said as she held my head to the wall. “Think about all the things you did wrong today, and what you can do to make things right.” She gave my ass another swat and I yelped, my ass burning only slightly more than my skin as I tried uselessly to control my sobs.

“Hungry?” I heard my mother say as she walked away and knew that she was talking to Lisa.

“Famished,” Lisa said.

“Guess we’ll have to fend for ourselves since our slave is having some ‘Quiet Time’. That IS another mark against you, boy.” Mom chuckled as I sobbed.

I heard them move off into the kitchen and start rummaging through the cupboards and refrigerator, both chatting away as though nothing was bizarre; having a semi-naked boy pressed into the corner of the living room, his ass raw from a whipping and squirming in agony as he tried to control his crying. I heard the microwave power up at some point and the smell chicken cooking soon drifted into the living room making my stomach growl.

I kept my head pressed to the wall breathing deeply as my crying subsided and trying to ignore the pain, the burning ache in my ass. It was hard and definitely not fair. I could not believe that I had been punished, taking Lisa’s strapping because she had gone off to the Mall with her boyfriend and left me bound, gagged and helpless. A short time, yes, but Mom and her friend had been the one’s to find me hog-tied on the living room carpet, and Lisa had been grounded but I was the one that had to suffer.

Fifty lashes with Lisa’s studded-leather belt- AND at my own suggestion no less. I had fallen right into that one. I had become my sister’s ‘Whipping Boy’.

I whimpered as I heard them return to the living room after awhile, laughing and talking. I could smell whatever they had nuked; chicken at least but I imagined more. My mother and sister ignored me as they took their seats, the television changing channels as they settled in, the sounds of them enjoying their meal as I stood shamed in the corner…

“So, have you learned your lesson, slave?” my mother asked seated somewhere behind me.

“Yes, Ma’am,” I said, my voice croaking, my throat still raw from crying. After an hour the pain in my butt had lessened to a dull throb but still hurt, making me uncomfortable. Too my arms were aching now having been up the entire time, and my forehead from pressing into the wall.

“And just what lesson might that be, boy?”

I knew my true lesson was not to think I could get over on either of them, but especially Mom. Somehow though, I doubted that, that was what she wanted to hear. I thought for a moment then said, as repentant as possible, “That you and Lisa are my superiors… my betters and are never wrong. I am just a … insignificant slave and whatever happens, it’s my fault and I deserve to be punished.

“God, what a brown nose.” Lisa laughed and I heard Mom chuckling as well.

“Well, close enough, slave,” Mom said, then added, “We ARE always right, but everything is not your fault. You did what Lisa wanted, but she over-stepped her bounds and jeopardized your safety. That WILL NOT happen again.” I could not see but imagined that my mother turned to Lisa on that statement.

“Yes, mother,” Lisa said with just a bit of annoyance in her voice. My mother then addressed me again.

“Not your fault, slave, but you will be punished for errors in judgement. Understand?”

“Yes, Ma’am,” I said knowing that I was screwed. Lisa could do whatever she wanted and if mom didn’t like it I would be punished. Sure, Lisa might get grounded or some other slap on the wrist but I would be the one to take the brunt. I could almost hear the gears and wheels turning in Lisa’s head.

“Okay, Mom continued, “come over here and thank us for out guidance and benevolence.”

Thankful to finally be free I turned from the corner and moved to pull up my panties. “Leave them down,” Mom commanded eyeing my tiny hard on. Despite the pain I was erect and excited and they both giggled to see my state of arousal.

“We’ve seen what you have,” Mom said with a smirk and a shake of her head. “No point in hiding it now. Get on your knees and crawl before your owners.”

I did as she commanded, dropping to my knees and crawling towards them. They were both seated on the sofa, their legs extended and their bare feet resting on the coffee table. I came before them and knelt, my panties bunched about my ankles as I stared at the soles of their feet, both twisting their ankles and wiggling their toes before my face. I saw too the remains of their dinner, the glasses and half-empty plates with scraps of chicken strips and potato skins, dirty napkins and silverware along with condiments. They had left a mess that I knew I would eventually have to clean up, but right now they wanted attention and I wanted their feet.

Mom raised a leg and stretched it forward, planting the ball of her foot on my forehead with a little pressure. “You may thank us now,” she said with a giggle, dragging her foot down my face until her toes were prying at my lower lip. I opened my mouth to take in her toes but she hesitated. I could still smell the scent of her worn leather pumps, her favored work shoes and her sweat despite all my licking and cleaning earlier. Her feet were soft and pink though, and her soles smooth.

“Thank you, Ma’am,” I said leaning forward to kiss and lick her beautiful foot. With a swift jerk though she pulled it out of reach.

“For what?” she asked coyly as I stared at the silky soft sole, the wriggling toes.

“Thank you for being my superior,” I said licking my lips. “Thank you for showing me the error of my ways and punishing me. Thank you for showing me my place and allowing me to serve you, both of you.”

My mother laughed and pressed the sole of her foot against my face, the heel on my chin, her toes at my forehead, pressing into my nose and flattening it. I kissed her sole first then stuck out my tongue and started to lick…


They kept me there for over an hour, on my knees and naked but for the panties wadded about my ankles. I licked and kissed and massaged their feet, occasionally vocalizing my thanks for their attention and direction when they pleased. My mother’s feet were still tainted, but pleasantly so with a hint of leather and sweat. Lisa’s though were almost pristine as she had showered earlier and of course I had done my duty. Hers smelled of peach body wash, but I licked and kissed with a vigor regardless.

Finally my mother said, “That’s enough.” I heard the television in the background announcing the David Letterman Show and knew that it was 11:30 at least. She pulled her feet away and out of reach leaving me kneeling and frustrated on the far side of the coffee table as Lisa stood, stretching.

“I’m for bed,” my sister said as she bent low and scooped up her moccasins by the heels. “This slave stuff is tiring,” she giggled strolling towards the hallway and her room beyond, knowing that my eyes were on her. “Tomorrow’s another day though, slave, and I have some ideas.”

“Ooo… aren’t you lucky?” my mother said as she rubbed her foot along the side of my face. I shivered at the touch and nodded. “One more kiss…” I kissed her sole again and she pulled her foot away. I heard Lisa go into her room.

“Good boy,” she said standing and stretching herself. I heard her back popping as she reached for the ceiling, then she stood haughtily with her hands on her hips.

“Clean up this mess,” she commanded waving at the remains of their dinner. “Then the kitchen. Set the coffeepot for 4:30, and then get yourself something to eat if you want. Clean up and get ready for bed then, and come to my room. And don’t dawdle. I have work tomorrow.”

With that my mother turned on her heel and strode away towards her own bedroom. “And bring my shoes when you comer to bed,” she said then vanished into her bedroom closing the door.

I knelt there for a moment wanting so much to jack off but held back. After a few minutes I pulled up my panties and started gathering the plates, glasses and garbage…


On my knees about an hour later I knocked on my mother’s door…

I had done as she commanded, cleaning up their dinner mess in the living room, washing glasses and dishes, silverware in the kitchen. I then wiped down the microwave and countertops, cleaning everything that I thought they might have soiled. It did not take long, and after I zapped my own dinner in the radar range; two strips of chicken tender and a baked potato skin that had been left for me. I ate ravenously and wanted more after I had finished, as over the last few days I had not eaten much. In the end though I decided against it, suspecting a trap maybe. I cleaned up my own mess, meager as it was, then got the coffee maker ready for the morning. That done I took a final look about the kitchen and satisfied, went back to the living room. I picked up my mother’s pumps and hurried to my mother’s closed bedroom door where I knelt and knocked.

“Come,” she said and I reached up, turning the knob and opening the door, crawling inside.

My mother was seated at her vanity brushing out her hair. I glanced up and saw her smirk as she eyed me in the mirror. I crawled into the room carrying her pumps, which I set by the side of the bed then knelt there awaiting her whim. She was dressed in a filmy blue negligee for bed that left little to the imagination, a pair of fluffy, scruffy, blue fuzzy slippers on her feet. She kept brushing, leaving me there for a time.

“All done?” she finally said after a few minutes setting her brush on the vanity and opening a jar of cold cream. She dipped a finger in then dabbed spots on her face, crossing her legs and letting her slipper dangle.

“Yes, Ma’am,” I said. “I did everything you asked.”

“Good boy,” she said turning in her chair to face me and holding out her hand. I stared at her fingers, greasy with the cold cream and knew what she wanted even as she wiggled them. I scrambled forward and licked at her fingers, sucking them of the cream. It tasted nasty but I did as she wanted, suckling her fingers until they were clean. She made me kiss her scruffy slippers then.

“I suppose you’d like to be tied up again,” she said with a somewhat bored tone, recrossing her legs. I nodded, excited at the thought.

“Yes, please, Ma’am,” I said barely containing my excitement, adding, “If you don’t mind.” My mother laughed.

“Of course not,” she said rising from her vanity chair and strolling to the bed. “In fact, I’m looking forward to it. Stand at the foot of the bed.” I saw that she picked up a box of Uncle Ben’s rice as she moved to the end of the bed. She upended the half-filled box and dumped the contents on the floor at the end of the bed, spreading the uncooked rice about with her foot. “Kneel there,” she said pointing to the floor and the rice and I dropped to my knees as instructed.

I winced in pain as the hard rice dug into my knees, shifting about and trying to get comfortable as she dropped the box into her trash and returned with cuts of nylon cord. My mother proceeded to lash me to the bed frame, my wrists to the posts at the foot of the bed, several turns of the rope biting fiercely into my flesh. When she was satisfied with my wrists and their security, she bound first my ankles draping the left leg over the right, then my knees tightly together. I was already squirming as the rice bit into my knee caps, trying to get comfortable.


“Hold still!” my mother ordered as she balled up her stockings and poked them into my mouth in a loose gag. I looked up at her and felt my cock stiffen as she placed her hands on her shapely hips, smiling wickedly at me.

“Hurts?” she asked and I nodded furiously. The rice was digging into my knees as I pulled at my bonds. “Good,” she said as she picked up her bottle of water and took a swig. “I want attention, so you’ll be nuzzling my feet all night long. Licking and kissing, rubbing your face on my smelly soles, sucking my toes,” she said as she capped the bottle and sat on the edge of the bed. She kicked off her slippers and swung her shapely legs under the covers, adjusting them. Stretching out she eventually found my face and pressed her smelly soles to it, rubbing her feet on my trapped face. She settled back and with a contented sigh, said: “Lick, slave… Make me happy.”

I leaned in and started kissing my mother’s feet, her soles, eventually sucking on her toes though her hose were stuffed into my mouth. She eventually fell asleep but I continued licking and kissing as best I could, wanting to make her happy, the bondage and rice keeping me awake until morning…
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