This is the story of a foot slave’s punishment. Much is written about the sacrifices and privations that slaves go through during the course of serving a Femdom Mistress. Much less is written about the kinds of sacrifices that Mistresses make for their slaves. There are many reasons for this, I’m sure. But I’m afraid the biggest one is that the sacrifices made by Mistresses aren’t considered “hot.” Like the ones made by the slaves.
Regardless of the “hotness” quotient, however, in a D/s relationship, both parties make sacrifices.
Consider for a moment, if you will, the (rather small) sacrifice I make for my foot slave. Allowing him to worship my feet is no sacrifice at all. I love being on the receiving end of foot worship. But his fetish doesn’t just stop at my feet. He’s also got a thing for shoes, too. And we’re not talking flip-flops or comfy sandals, either. He gets off on seeing a woman in the highest of impractical, uncomfortable high-heeled shoes.
Like most women, I like the idea of sexy shoes in theory. In practice, not so much. However, I do wear them from time to time for my slave. When he’s been a good boy in need of a reward. Never say I am not generous.
There are times, though, when my foot slave thinks that he deserves this treat far more often than he really does. Sometimes, he can get downright whiny when he’s denied the pleasure of worshipping my feet in sexy shoes. As you can imagine, this doesn’t go over particularly well with me.
A few weeks ago, my foot slave became downright surly over my not wearing a ridiculous pair of porn star shoes around the house for his enjoyment. Now, you must keep in mind that I have explained to him, multiple times, that those type of shoes are quite uncomfortable for me and not really my style most of the time. I’ve also informed him that when I do wear them, I do it as a reward for exceptional behavior from him, not because he whines until I give in to his demands.
The more I thought about it, the more it annoyed me. He knows perfectly well that, as a slave, he is in no position to “demand” anything from his Strict Mistress. Finally, I decided that I’d been too lax in allowing him any sort of say in these matters and came to the conclusion that he needed to be punished.
I went to my closet and pulled out the pair of shoes in question–a pair of shiny black ankle strap sandals with a ridiculously high, 8-inch heel and a 4-inch platform under the toe. His eyes lit up. Silly boy thought he’d worn me down!
“No, I won’t be wearing these today,” I told him as I turned around. His face fell. “I do, however, have another use for them.”
“What’s that, Mistress?” he asked.
“Well, it seems to me that if you like these shoes so much that you can do nothing else but fixate upon them, I should allow you to wear them.”
He looked confused until I told him he’d wear them all day…while he did his chores, while he cooked our dinner, and while he did anything else I deemed appropriate. He wasn’t terribly happy with his Mean Mistress for this punishment, but he did, at least, have sense enough not to try to finagle his way out of it.
I’ve never been too much into feminization or the like, but I must admit that watching him stumble around the house in those incredibly girlie shoes–and nothing else–was quite amusing.
By the end of the day, his feet were tired, sore, and swollen. His ankles were also swollen from the multiple times that he turned them over, trying to walk in those shoes. I don’t think I ever saw a man so happy to take off a pair of shoes before in my life! He tossed them aside unhappily and knelt at my feet to beg me for forgiveness.
“Mistress, I will never again annoy you about those shoes. I’m so sorry that I ever did. Now I understand why you dislike wearing them, and if you never wear them again, I’ll never complain.” Then, he kissed the tops of my feet and looked up at me for permission to worship them…permission that I happily granted, now that my foot slave’s punishment had served its intended purpose.
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