Footslavery-The Auction Part 4 Submitted on 07/28/06 It took a week for Mistress Paula to make all the arrangements for the trainee footslave's day release. There was a lot of paperwork involved; lots of phone calls etc. But eventually she secured him a place in one of the local offices in the town centre - a publishing firm specialising in womens' magazines - and with an all-female staff. It would be just the perfect environment for the footslave's first experience of servitude at the feet of women in the real world. The footslave was, quite literally, kept in the dark about his proposed day release right up until the morning of the day in question. As he lay on his back on the cold, stone floor of his gloomy, windowless cell, he had no idea that he was about to leave that cell for the first time in over 3 months and would actually see some daylight and smell some fresh air again. The exciting news was broken to him by one of his pretty guards, mistress Lucy, as she opened his cell door as usual first thing in the morning in order to give him his breakfast of nourishing, but foul-tasting, slave 'mush'. As he knelt at her feet and placed his first respectful kiss of the day on the dirty toe of her black, knee-length boot, she uttered the words that lifted his spirits to a height they had not known since the court had passed sentence on him and sent him down to a lifetime of footslavery: "You're to serve in a women's office on day-release today, footslave!". Lucy enjoyed the look of stunned surprise and disbelief on the stupid slave's face. How pathetic that he can be excited at the prospect of licking womens' feet and shoes in an office all day long! His wretched existence was now so miserable that such a prospect was a real treat for him. She laughed at him: "Ha! ha! Don't think you're in for an easy ride, slaveboy. You're about to experience what slavery is really like in the outside world - what it means to be a humble footslave, despised and held in contempt by free women who are your betters. Believe me, by the end of this day you'll be glad to crawl back on your hands and knees into your nice, safe cell! Now eat up all your slave mush, for you'll need all the energy you can get!" With that, she pushed the bowl of unappetising mush under his nose with the tip of her boot, and looked down on him with contempt as he guzzled away obediently like a dog. Just as he was finishing his 'breakfast' his other guard, mistress Antoinette, arrived at the cell door with a long chain: "Is he ready yet, Lucy?", she enquired. "Yeah, he's just finished his mush. You can attach the chain to his collar". Mistress Antoinette moved forward and crouched down to attach the heavy chain to a metal loop on the bottom of the slave's heavy wooden collar known as a 'cangue' - the collar that was engraved with the word 'footslave' and was designed to ensure that it was impossible for him to raise his head above a lady's knee. Mistress Lucy simultaneously undid the shackles that normally kept the slave shackled to the wall of his cell and mistress Antoinette then ordered him to follow her 'to heel'. As he crawled behind mistress Antoinette's boots out of his cell door for the first time in 3 months, the slave knew that he should be feeling an enormous sense of relief that he was at last leaving the horrible, dank, stuffy cell - albeit temporarily. But, so conditioned had he become by his weeks of footslave-training, he actually found himself humbly concentrating on the backs of mistress Antoinette's knee-length boots. He was fascinated by the way the black leather creased at the back of her heels as she walked; at the way the sole and heel of her beautiful boot picked up dust and dirt as she walked along the corridor; he found himself yearning to lick the offending dirt off the soles of her boots. So successful had his training been, he now felt comfortable only when he was concentrating on the feet or footwear of women. It boded well for his future existence as a fully-fledged footslave. Even when they reached the prison van in the yard outside, and he got his first glimpse of daylight in 3 months - so bright that it hurt his eyes - he found himself squinting so that he could better concentrate on the backs of mistress Antoinette's dirty boots. The two guards led him into the back of the van that was to transport him to the office where he was to perform his 'community service' on day-release. Mistress Lucy then sat in the front in the driver's seat. Meanwhile mistress Antoinette made the footslave lie on the floor on his stomach in the back of the van and sat on a bench above him, her right boot resting on the side of his face. His neck was stretched at an awkward angle because of the heavy wooden collar, but even so he could feel the vibrations through the dirty floor on his cheek when mistress Lucy revved up the engine. And so he was transported to his place of servitude in a manner befitting a footslave - lying in the dirt under the booted foot of a female prison guard, staring at the dirt on the side of her boot. On arrival at the office building mistress Antoinette led the slave on his hands and knees up to the reception desk in the front lobby at which a young woman was sitting, chewing gum, and filing her finger-nails: "Hi. I'm Guard Antoinette from the Slave Training Detention Centre, and I've brought this prisoner-footslave for his day release". The young receptionist peered over the edge of her desk and looked down at the kneeling slave over her metal-rimmed glasses with an air of contempt: "Oh, yes, Miss", she responded politely to Antoinette. "We are expecting you. I'll just see if our Managing Director, Madame Selena, is ready for you". With that, the girl lifted her phone and rang through to the Managing Director's office: "Yes, she's ready to see you now. Please go on up to the third floor". "Thank you", replied Antoinette. "Slave, crawl round and kiss the receptionist's feet and thank her for allowing you to proceed". Mistress Antoinette then led the footslave by his collar and chain round to where the female receptionist was sitting. The footslave could now see that the young woman was wearing strappy, light brown stiletto sandals over tan stockings, and a very short white skirt. As the young woman, who was seated on a raised chair with her feet on a metal footrest, obligingly extended her right foot into the air and under his kneeling nose for him to pay his respects to it, he could see the reinforced stitching of the stocking across her red-painted toe-nails. She continued to chew her gum, with a nonchalant look on her face, as the slave pressed his lips to that reinforced stitching, puckered them, and kissed. No sooner had he done so than she extended her other foot under his nose for him to repeat the humble act of obeisance. Her feet smelt perfumed and looked very clean. He remembered to thank the young woman: "Thank you, mistress-receptionist, for checking that Madame Selena is ready to receive this humble footslave". The young woman said nothing, and swung her feet away from the slave again to continue filing her finger-nails. Antoinette was delighted with the girl's attitude. If the footslave was still in any doubt as to the contempt with which he would now be regarded by ordinary women, the receptionist's attitude should have dispelled any such doubts. Antoinette led the slave to the lift and then up to the third floor where the Managing Director's office was located. Several of the office girls giggled at the sight of the near-naked male slave crawling behind the guard's leather boots as they made their way down the corridor towards Madame Selena's office. From the corner of his eye the footslave could see the office girls' legs and shoes, but he continued to concentrate on the back of mistress Antoinette's boots, as he had been conditioned to do. Antoinette, knocked on the door of Madame Selena's office and waited for a voice to respond: "Enter! - Ah, welcome! You must be Guard Antoinette?" The voice was husky, powerful and sexy. It was undoubtedly the voice of the Managing Director herself, Madame Selena: "Yes, Madam. And I've brought the prisoner-footslave for his day release", responded Antoinette. Madame Selena had by now moved out from behind her executive desk to shake hands with Antoinette: "Slave, kiss Madame Selena's shoes!", ordered Antoinette abruptly. Madame Selena stretched forward her right foot for the slave to kiss. She was an attractive woman with a good figure and was wearing a black jacket over a white blouse, black knee-length skirt, dark stockings and black patent leather pumps. Very businesslike, as one would expect of the female managing director of a publishing company. The slave guessed her to be in her late thirties. As he humbly lowered his lips to the top of her shiny, black shoe he saw his distorted reflection in the patent leather. He placed a reverential kiss on the black leather, and then waited for Madame Selena to withdraw her right foot from under his nose and replace it with her left: "I'm glad to see that he knows how to kiss a lady's shoes with proper humility and respect, because I can tell you now that my girls will accept nothing less!", commented Madame Selena to Antoinette. Antoinette was pleased that Madame Selena was happy with her first impressions of the slave: "And rightly so, Madame Selena. I can assure you that if this dirty slave fails to meet your high expectations today he will be severely punished on his return to the Detention Centre. We always value your honest feedback". "Don't worry, my dear. Mistress Paula and I go way back, and I've always found her trainee slaves to be adequate. I'm sure he'll make a good office shoeshine- boy for the day. Please leave him with me, and I'll arrange for him to begin his day's servitude by going around the office and licking the girls' shoes". "That's great. We'll be back to pick him up at 6:00 P.M. Goodbye, Madame Selena". With that, mistress Antoinette handed over the end of the slave's chain to the managing director, and left. There was silence for a few moments as Madame Selena surveyed the slave kneeling at her feet. The slave was now concentrating on her elegant, black pumps and shapely, stockinged ankles. "Mmm, let me make one thing perfectly clear to you, slave. As far as I'm concerned you are nothing but a piece of filth, fit only to lick the dirty shoes and boots of my female employees. And lick them you will! My God, you're going to have a sore, dry tongue by the end of today! For if I detect just one speck of dirt on any of my girls' shoes at the end of the day I'll see to it that your mistress Paula strips the remaining flesh from your scrawny back with her bull-whip! Do I make myself clear?" The slave was somewhat shocked at Madame Selena's aggressive tone. Best to assure her of his good intentions: "Oh pray, Madame, if it pleases you Madame, this slave wishes only to serve all its mistresses to the best of its ability" "I don't give a damn what you wish for, you dirty, no-good pig!", barked Madame Selena, "I'm telling you how it's going to be. Every single woman in this office is your better, your superior, and by God you'd better show them proper respect!. And one more thing. After you've shined my employees' shoes this morning you will be required to help me greet a high ranking delegation of businesswomen from China. Be in no doubt, slave, if you mess that up for me you'll wish you had never been born. I've got a potentially lucrative contract with their Chinese company, and if it all falls through I'll know who to take it out on, won't I? Won't I, slave!?" The footslave sensed that Madame Selena was a natural authoritarian. Difficult to work for, demanding and hard to please - especially if you were a humble footslave like him: "Yes, Madame, if it pleases you Madame, this dirty, worthless footslave will do its utmost to ensure that your Chinese guests are greeted with proper respect and humility". Madame Selena then paged her personal secretary, asking her to come into her office. From the corner of his eye (he was still very much concentrating on Madame Selena's shapely, stocking-covered ankles), the footslave saw a younger woman in a white trouser suit and white stilettos on her bare feet enter the room: "Ah, Jane. This is the piece of filth who is going to be shining everyone's shoes today with his slave tongue. Would you like to take him around the various girls in the office, please, and offer his services to them?". "With pleasure, Madame Selena", replied the young personal secretary, and with that she took the slave's chain and ordered him to follow her on his hands and knees. As he crawled humbly behind her, the slave liked the way the bottoms of her white trousers swung from side to side, revealing treasured glimpses of her bare, creased heels above the tops of her white stiletto shoes - shoes which he couldn't help noticing were slightly scuffed at the back. This young woman couldn't be much more than 20 years old, but she was clearly aware of her superiority over him: "Keep your eyes on the back of my shoes, dirty footlick!", she snapped in her piercing young voice. She took him first to a woman in her late twenties who was sitting at her desk working on her computer: "Hi, Petra, fancy a shoe-shine?", miss Jane asked her colleague. The slave could see that mistress Petra was wearing black high-heeled shoes with a T bar strap across the top of her foot, and dark stockings under a black dress. Curiously, there was also a pair of dirty, white sneakers under her desk. Petra momentarily stopped what she was doing and glanced first at Jane, then at the kneeling footslave. She laughed: "Ha! Ha! What a dork! What is he some kind of work experience trainee, or something?" "He's a prisoner on day release from the local slave-training centre", explained Miss Jane. "Madame Selena has instructed that he's to clean all the women's shoes with his tongue". "Well, he better had then!", exclaimed mistress Petra, swivelling round on her chair to extend her right foot onto the carpet under the kneeling slave's nose. The slave was fast learning one new thing about what it meant to be a humble footslave to women - one tended to be spoken about, rather than spoken to. If one was spoken to in person, it was invariably just to be given orders, or to be admonished. But it was clear that his female masters and betters did not regard him as worthy of having a meaningful conversation with them. The slave couldn't help but notice a small tear in the stitching of mistress Petra's stocking on her outer ankle as he lowered his face to the top of her outstretched shoe and began to humbly lick the leather. He hoped he wouldn't be blamed for that pre-existing tear. He hoped that mistress Petra was already aware of its existence. What he didn't appreciate, of course, was that nobody else, let alone mistress Petra herself, was aware of the tear - for it was just that, a tiny, insignificant little tear in her stocking which was of no consequence to anyone - except to a humble, down-in-the-dirt footslave such as he. "Make sure you give them a nice shine, footslave", mistress Petra shouted down at him. "I want to see all the dirt transferred from my shoes onto your pathetic tongue and down your wooden-collared throat!" The slave licked the top of mistress Petra's black leather shoe ever more vigorously, before she ordered him to pay his slavish attentions to her other high-heeled shoe. He could smell the leather as he licked it, and, in all honesty, the shoes did not appear to be all that dirty. Mistress Petra's next pronouncement explained why: "Jane, I normally wear these sneakers on the way into work, and they are truly filthy. Do you think he could give them a lick and a polish for me as well?" She pointed with her foot to the white sneakers lying under her desk. "Sure, Petra. I'll have him lick them until you can see your reflection in them!" The two girls laughed as they both knew that would be an impossible task. Nevertheless, they expected the slave to make substantial progress in cleaning the dirty sneakers with his tongue, as that was what his slave tongue was designed for. Jane ordered the footslave to stop licking miss Petra's leather high heels as Petra picked up her sneakers and placed them on the floor again directly under his nose: "Slave, clean Miss Petra's dirty sneakers. Lick off all the filth and make them look as good as new!", ordered mistress Jane. The Managing Director's PS was clearly enjoying her special duties for the day - escorting a footslave around the office! What fun! As the slave dutifully began to lick on mistress Petra's dirty white sneakers the latter returned her attentions to her computer to continue with her work. The slave was very conscious of the fact that her work was much more important than his, and that he was worthy only to lick the dirt off her discarded sneakers, whilst she continued with her important emails which could generate lots of additional income for the company and earn her a large bonus. Of course, however well he cleaned mistress Petra's dirty sneakers, the slave would not be receiving any bonus - or any financial remuneration at all. Next, mistress Jane took him to one of her best friends in the office - Miss Courtney, the 'office junior'. Courtney was just 18 years old and, if truth be told, was not that popular amongst the other women in the office. Jane liked her, because they were of a similar age and they socialised together. But many of the 'older' women in the office, those in their late twenties or early thirties, found Courtney a bit irritating - arrogant and even, on occasions, downright rude. Blonde Courtney was certainly a feisty young woman, ambitious and self-confident. She did not intend to remain the office junior for long. She was by the photocopying machine when her friend Jane approached with the footslave in tow: "My God, what have you got there, Jane?", exclaimed Courtney excitedly. "He's a trainee footslave from the prison. Would you like him to clean your boots with his tongue?" asked Jane. "Yeah - you bet!", shouted Courtney, attracting the attention of several of the other women in the office with her excited tone. They all smiled. Courtney may be an arrogant and over-confident young upstart, but, even though she was the most junior employee in the office, they were all agreed that she was better than the footslave and deserved to have her boots licked by him. Miss Courtney sat down on a high stool beside the photocopier resting her dainty feet on the metal footrest. She was wearing black trousers, and when she sat down the trouser legs raised to reveal the tops of her black socks above her black, zip-up, chunky-heeled ankle boots. The footslave was ushered forward by mistress Jane until his face was just inches away from miss Courtney's boots. "Kiss the tops of my socks first, boy!", ordered miss Courtney in her sharp, high-pitched voice - the voice many of the other women usually found so irritating. The slave realised that there was no other reason for him to be given this order other than to humiliate him, just as her use of the word 'boy' was designed to put him in his proper place. He must have been at least 20 years her senior, after all, and in his previous life girls like this had been making cups of tea for him whilst he had negotiated business deals with the likes of 'Madame Selena'. How things had changed! How far he had fallen! He was now reduced to kissing the female office junior's socks! He placed his lips on the soft, black cotton material at the top of her right boot and humbly kissed. "And the other one!", snapped mistress Courtney impatiently. He kissed the top of the other sock, sensing how the other women in the office were watching with great amusement and approval. "Now clean my boots, foot-flunkey. Lick them clean with your dirty, slave tongue. Make sure you get all the dirt out from between the stitches on the soles, and don't forget the dirt and the dust on the zips at the sides". Mistress Courtney certainly knew how to give orders to a slave. She clearly was a natural 'master'. She truly believed in her own superiority and in the footslave's complete inferiority. As the slave licked her dirty ankle boots vigorously, mistress Courtney and mistress Jane, the two youngest women in the office, giggled and chatted about their respective boyfriends and spoke excitedly of a pop concert they would be going to that coming week-end. The footslave was largely ignored by them until mistress Courtney decided he had cleaned her boots to her satisfaction. "Slaveboy, my feet are hot and tired. You're going to take off my boots and massage my socked feet with your ugly face. Use your mouth to unzip my boots". The slave was impressed with the matter-of-fact way in which mistress Courtney had given her orders to him -'you are going to do this; you are going to do that'. But why shouldn't she? After all, he was going to do it, because she had so ordered it. So her matter-of-fact tone was entirely appropriate. Mistress Courtney kindly positioned her right foot on the stool footrest and pulled up her trouser leg so that the slave could get a good grip of her boot-zip with his mouth and pull down the zip to reveal her black-socked foot. He then did the same with her other boot. Then, as mistresses Courtney and Jane continued to gossip away, ignoring him, he duly massaged the soles of mistress Courtney's socked feet with his slave nose and face. The socks did feel warm, and there was a faint aroma of feminine footsweat, but he doubted that mistress Courtney's feet were really as hot and tired as she had made out. As he massaged her socked feet, he concentrated on the pieces of fluff and sock lint, endeavouring to remove them from her socks so that the socks would feel extra soft and smooth on her delicate, soft, feminine feet when he put her boots back on for her. He couldn't help feeling what a privilege it was to perform such a degrading and humiliating task for such a beautiful and superior young woman as she towered above him on the office stool. And he served various other women throughout the office in similar ways during the rest of the morning - always under the direction of mistress Jane. By the end of the morning he was very familiar with the taste and smell of female shoes and ankle boots, female socks and stockings, and soft, bare feminine feet. After mistress Jane's lunch break (the slave wasn't offered any lunch), it was time to greet the delegation of Chinese businesswomen. As he knelt by the front door in the Reception area ready for their arrival, Madame Selena and mistress Jane flanking him on either side, the footslave's mouth was dry with nervousness. He knew he must not mess this up. His whole future could depend on how he performed over the next few minutes. Thankfully, the delegation, when it arrived was small - just two Chinese businesswomen and their interpreter. All three women were soberly but smartly dressed. The head of the delegation, Madame Selena's counterpart if you will, was called Madame Li Tang - a petite woman in her early thirties wearing a cream coloured jacket and knee-length skirt, and with white pumps on her white- stockinged feet. Her deputy, Madame Fu Wong, who must have been about the same age, was wearing a dark, navy blue jacket and skirt, with matching navy blue high heels on dark stockings. The interpreter, Miss Chi Yung, was wearing a smart, bright red trouser suit with shiny red pumps on bare feet. "Welcome Madame Li Tang, Madame Fu Wong", said Madame Selena, in a somewhat fawning tone. In fact, Madame Selena's tone made the footslave even more nervous. These were clearly very important potential business partners. "Please allow our footslave to kiss your feet by way of a welcome to our company", continued Madame Selena. 'Our footslave?', thought the slave. Had Madame Selena actually purchased him? He suspected not. He suspected (rightly) that this was why the company had agreed to take him for the day - to impress the important visitors from China. The interpreter, miss Chi Yung, translated Madame Selena's words, and Madame Li Tang duly extended her pretty right foot for the slave to shuffle forward and kiss. As he did so, he noticed how her white stockings were slightly creased around her shapely and petite ankle. Madam Li Tang laughed, apparently with delight. She then said something in Chinese which the interpreter translated: "Madame Li Tang say slave wear wooden collar like Chinese criminal. Madame Li Tang like collar on slave's neck. Keep slave humble. Cause pain!" Madame Selena smiled in agreement: "Please explain to Madame Li Tang that the slave is indeed a criminal who is undergoing a life sentence of slavery as he fell into financial debt with a woman". Mistress Paula had clearly been giving Madame Selena some background on the slave's circumstances. After the interpreter had translated Madame Selena's words, Madame Fu Wong made a comment in Chinese. The interpreter duly translated again: "Madame Fu Wong say slave deserve kiss women feet if lose women money. Slave deserve many whip. Many pain!" "Quite so, Madame Fu Wong", agreed Madame Selena. "Slave, kiss Madame Fu Wong's high heeled shoes and thank her in person for her observations". The slave duly turned his attentions to the navy blue high heeled pumps of Madame Fu Wong. He noticed how a vein in her foot seemed to flex under her dark stocking in reaction to his subservience: "Thank you, Madame Fu Wong, for observing that this slave deserves to spend the rest of its natural existence grovelling at the feet of superior women". The interpreter, miss Chi Yung, translated his cringing slave-speak as best she could, before presenting her own shiny, red shoe for him to kiss. As he kissed the interpreter's right foot she translated something else that Madame Li Tang was saying in Chinese: "Madame Li Tang ask slave for sale? She like take slave back to China! Make slave kiss Chinese women feet in her office". The interpreter was laughing, so it was clear that Madame Li Tang was speaking half in jest. However, it occurred to both Madame Selena and the footslave himself that it was not beyond the bounds of possibility that he could be purchased by Madame Li Tang for her office in China. Once he went up for auction, any woman, from anywhere, could purchase him. "Please tell Madame Li Tang that the slave will shortly be put up for auction, and that she will be more than welcome to put in a bid for him", explained Madame Selena. Once again the slave was listening to his fate being discussed by women - with no right to have any say in the matter himself. Fortunately, however, when the interpreter had translated Madame Selena's reply, Madame Li Tang just laughed and said something to Miss Chi Yung who translated: "Madame Li Tang say slave too ugly for Chinese women. Slave have big nose. Look like pig!" All the women laughed at Madame Li Tang's comment, and at the kneeling footslave. Madame Fu Wong then added her comment which the interpreter duly translated: "Ha! Ha! Madam Fu Wong say slave's pig-face fit only to wipe dirt off women shoes!" Again all the women laughed. Madame Selena was particularly pleased. The use of the footslave had, as she had anticipated, broken the ice. And, in spite of the fact that he was being mocked and referred to as a pig-face, the footslave was also pleased. For he had noted Madame Selena's comment to the effect that he would soon be 'put up for auction'. It was clear that Madame Selena was close to his trainer, mistress Paula, and he had no reason to doubt that Madame Selena's information was more than just speculation on her part. He was getting there! He was getting closer to being a full-time footslave. And he was quietly confident that his performance today in Madam Selena's office would only advance the day when he was deemed fit for sale.