Welcome!

Becky was my superior in my first job. She'd joined about a year after me and my management was one of her responsibilities. I felt humiliated by her from the start as I had applied for the job myself but had not got it despite being more qualified and having more experience than her. She, however, was stunning and had an unbelievably sexy manner that turned men to putty.

It really was quite something the feeling I would get every day when I heard her car door shut. As I laid in silence I would feel overjoyed to be in this envious position. How many men are lucky enough to be considered worth being kept as the property off a powerful businesswoman?

Part 1 – Live & Exclusive

You might think that a society, any society, which glories in slavery to the extent that it has a whole television channel devoted to the subject, is a somewhat depraved and perverse society. But you’d be wrong.

It soon came to pass that I was to become more than just Sally's servant at work. She decided that she would take me on as her full-time servant, or to be exact about it, slave, as I was not to be paid a penny for my servitude.

Punished Under Horsewomen

Synopsis: a government agency permits severe corporal punishment of men who assult women. the system has become twisted, and the wealthy can pay to inflict punsiment for their amuesment

The Photograph

This story is all a reaction to a photograph I saw in National Geographic Magazine. Sometime in the 1980 NG did an an article on modern Japan. The purpose of the shot was to illustrate how the impact of population density and the scarcity of open land impacts the society. It showed two women in formal equestrian attire seated atop mechanical horses on front of a large projector television. The shot featured the mechanical equines with the image of a green leafy bridal path on the giant screen. Both riders were styling in snug jodhpurs, or perhaps just tights, and tall black riding boots. The horses were partly realistic and partly abstract. Not intended to be photographically realistic, they were 3-D and generally horse shaped in all the places that would be in the rider's field of view. That is: the head, neck, shoulder, even the flanks and rump were of proper shape and size and covered with a carpet-like hide, while the bottom of them, the area of the legs was purely functional, with an enclosed mechanism that allowed the horse move and mimic the gaits of a live horse. The riders, two attractive Japanese women that looked to be in their late twenties, quite obviously knew they were on camera. Both sported wide happy ad-agency smiles. The caption said that since land to dedicate to horses was rare, these equestriennes in training would practice indoors before graduating to live mounts. The rider’s attire was a but over the top, overly stylized and mildly suggestive. One rider in mid gait had lifter her athletic looking bottom a few inches above the saddle. Her tan jodhpur slacks looked like they were painted on. Very nice.

Hello? ---- Oh, hey Suzy! ---- Oh, yeah... uhmmm...i forgot... been kinda busy here. You'll NEVER guess what happened! ---- Oh, shut up, do you wanna hear why I didn't make it or not?

Well... you know that cleaning service I just got? They sent this guy today. ---- No, not that one. A new one. Anyway, he was late! the asshole, so I left as soon as he got here so I could make it to class on time. But of course, you know me, I forgot something, so halfway there I had to turn around and get my notebook. ---- Be quiet! You're no better :). ---- Anyway I got back to the house and went in, and I guess the guy didn't hear me. ---- I don't know his name, just listen! ---- Oh, well he's almost 6' and more tan than me, prick! Kinda hairy too. Mustache and goatee.

That first day I cleaned Sally's shoes, my duties started to change. I went from helping to manage one of her shops to something more personal to her. The following day, Sally walked in just as I was about to open the shop. She was dressed in her usual sharp business suit, her legs resplendent in black stockings and feet perfection within shiny black court shoes. She carried a small bag with her, with what looked like a pair of riding boots nestling inside. As I finished putting the newspapers on the bottom shelf and greeted her, she walked over to me, still kneeling on the floor and with a snotty look and not so much as a 'hello', handed me the bag and barked, "I'm riding this afternoon. Get these clean."

Chapter 1 -- Room Service

'Hotel "Footslave", can I help you?'

The hotel receptionist answered the phone in her usual chirpy, happy voice. She loved her job -- her first real job since leaving school. Trudy had just turned 20 years old, and all her family were impressed at the fact that, despite leaving school with virtually no qualifications, she had at last managed to secure a potentially good career in the hospitality industry. She may be just the receptionist now, but Trudy had a very high opinion of herself and had ambitions to rise to the very top. She was determined that one day she would be the manageress of her own hotel.

Following a divorce, I had started working in local newsagents. My marriage break up had been hard. I'd lost the house and all of my savings. The stress had made me lose my job as well and I was in no state to face challenging mental work again. I needed something just to tie me over while I cleared my head and sorted myself out. It was slightly degrading going back to such a junior sort of job - arranging the daily papers, serving customers and so on after my previous well-paid role in IT, but it was local and I figured it would take my mind off things.

And so it came to pass that I licked Julie's shoes clean before an after every shift at the supermarket. I would even stay on way past my shift if she was working later than me. It could be a drag but being able to polish Julie's shoes with my tongue was well worth the extra few hours of boredom. I licked the mud she had accumulated from her walk to work upon her arrival and I licked the dust and grime that her shoes had picked up during her shift at the end of it. She would also bring in the odd pair of boots or shoes in her rucksack that needed cleaning, and I would lock myself in one of the store cupboards and do this while I was waiting for her. I licked the high heels and knee high leatehr boots she wore clubbing to the more unglamourous wellies that she has been out walking in the field behind her house in. All her footwear had one thing in common - when it came to me it was invariably dirty and when it left, it was sparkling clean. It was hard work - but rewarding when I saw that smile as she took the clean boots and shoes from me.