Footslave's Jerk-Off Show
      Submitted on 06/08/08


The naked slave was squatting in the middle of the living room, up on tiptoe 
as commanded by Mistress.  All of the track lights were aimed at his sweat 
glistening body while Mistress and four of her friends lounged about 
comfortably on the couch and chairs encircling the slave.  He squatted on 
newspapers that had been spread on the floor.  One of Mistress' high heels 
was strapped atop his shaven slave skull by a leather cord that tied under 
his chin.  Being tightly tied, the shoe's heel-point was pressing cruelly 
down into the center of the top of his naked head.

"Do you like the footslave's crown?" asked the Mistress of her friends.  The 
other Mistresses all laughingly approved.  There would be the bruise of the 
heel-mark atop his head for some days to come.  The added advantage of 
having the shoe bound to his head was that it keep his mouth shut, being 
pulled taut beneath his chin.  "Wank," said the Mistress to the slave in the 
spotlights.  He could barely make out the faces and bodies of the Mistresses 
in the darkness beyond his illuminated floor show, the lights shining so 
brightly down upon him, making him sweat and glisten so that all of his 
straining muscles were artistically visible to the spectators.  From his 
arched, straining and pained toes to his ramrod back and taut buttocks to 
his corded neck and powerful chest - all of him was on alert, attentive 
display for the viewing pleasure of the smiling, chuckling Mistresses.

The slave took his hand which was covered with a sweaty, smelly gym sock of 
Mistress' and with the covered hand he grasped his swollen penis and began 
to stroke it.  A small dog-dish had been placed between his feet, below his 
penis to catch his drippings and eventual spurtings.  Whatever missed the 
dish would splatter on the newspapers.

"Slower," said the Mistress.  "And do a squatting, duck-walk circle while 
doing your wank so that the Mistresses behind you don't have to just look at 
your whipped ass.  Let them see you from all angles and see what a 
stringless puppet I have made of you - all because you lust for the licking 
of my toes and the smell of my soles."  The Mistress laughed causing a chain 
reaction in all of the other women - and they watched while the slave 
awkwardly - but maintaining his erect posture and tiptoe sguat - made slow 
circle upon circle before their studying eyes, all the while wanking his 
cock with the stinky sock covered hand.

"Now faster," the Mistress ordered and the wanking quickened.

"He's dripping," commented one of the women.

"Yuk!" said another.  "Gross!"

"Look - there is a string just hanging from the tip of his cock - like it's 
drooling!"

"He's an animal," explained his Mistress, his owner.  "He can't help himself 
or his disgusting need."

"Will you let him go all the way and squirt?" asked another women, lounging 
on the couch, dangling her shoe while watching the naked fool with the shoe 
strapped to his head duckwalk in circles until he must have been dizzy. 
Dizzy and drooling and dopey - and naked and breathing hard and sweating 
profusely now - yes, a naked puppet putting on a show for the amusement of 
his betters.

"I may make him squirt into his dish or I might make him let go of his cock 
at the moment of the squirt so that his pleasure is diminished in that it 
will be an untouched orgasm.  That is fun to watch:  cum spitting out of a 
cock that bobs around with muscular contractions and the wicked torture of 
its not being touched.  Or...I might allow only one squirt - and make him 
squeeze tight to withold a second contraction.  It depends.  Whatever amuses 
me at the moment."  She giggled.  "Faster slave!"  and she threw her other 
high heel at him and it bounced off his chest, the heel scraping across his 
pectoral.  "You had best not have broken my high heel shoe, slave, or its an 
upside down, hung-by-your-heels whipping for you, understand?"

The slave nodded and stroked himself faster and faster, all the while 
walking in his spot on the crumpled newspapers, sweating rivers down his 
torso and legs and down the crack of his ass, wetting the papers below, his 
drooling cock wetting the papers below.  "Look - he's got news-print on the 
balls of his feet!"

"Yeah - maybe we can lay him down - hold a mirror up to his feet and read 
the news story off of his shamed body."

"Stop wanking!" barked the Mistress and the slave withdrew his hand from his 
thick, purple cock and and held his arms out at full length as he had been 
trained to do.  "Stop duck-walking in your circle of shame!"  He froze, 
statue-still.  The room was silent and all that could be heard was his heavy 
breathing and heartbeat.

"His balls look big and full of cream," someone commented from the easy 
chair.

"Wank some more!" shouted Mistress and the slave's hand went back to his 
penis.  The big meat was being chaffed by the gym sock.   "I bet you wish I 
would take the sock off your hand and oil your dick up so that you could 
have a nice, gliding wank, right?  Well, slave, be glad I didn't put a sock 
over your cock, too.  But if I'd done that...we'd be here all night...and 
your slave legs would grow tied, I'm sure.  Anyway," she purred and then 
shouted "Stick a finger in your ass!"   The slave took his unsocked hand and 
roughly pushed his index finger into his bunghole. "Deep!  And finger fuck 
yourself as you continue your circle - only now rotate counter-clockwise, 
both on your tired and aching feet and rotate the finger in your ass counter 
clockwise also, even as you finger fuck yourself."

The laughter in the room was now deafening.

"Now....while you are jerking you feet and digging in your ass for our 
amusement, since you look so hot and sweaty and tired...we are going to cool 
you off.  Would slave like that? Of course you would, you dumb animal.  Okay 
girls....ready...aim...fire!"  Suddenly Mistress and friends lifted their 
until-now hidden piss-filled water pistols and began squirting at the slave. 
Some had good aim and their hot shots of piss went right into his face, into 
his opened mouth which Mistress had commanded. (In forcefully opening his 
mouth, he pulled on the cord tied under his chin and thereby pulled the 
point of the high-heel atop his head into his skull all the harder; it was a 
wicked torture all in itself.)  Others aimed their shots at his chest and 
loved watching the yellow rivulets mix with his sweat.  His body was now a 
straining sheen of sweat and piss.  He was naked, humiliated meat performing 
for his Mistress and her friends.  They kept shootin him with their piss 
pistols.  Some aimed for his wanking cock and dangling, bouncing balls. 
"This is a riot!"  "He is more fun than a barrel of monkeys!"  "Where did 
you ever find such a puppet!"  One of the women stood and squirted down into 
the shoe atop his head, filling it so that as he squat-walked in the 
unending circle the piss bounced out of the shoe and ran down all sides of 
his shaven head, into his ears, into his eyes, down his corded neck.

"See," said the Mistress as she aimed at his wide-stretched mouth, "we 
squirt you while you get youself all hot and bothered and ready to squirt 
for us!  Isn't that marvelous?"

"He's drooling lots of cock snot now!"

"He must be close!"

His balls were bouncing more frenetically now.  His sock-covered fist was a 
blur.  His cock was as hard as a crowbar.

"I can see his heart beating against his breastbone!"

"Do your toes hurt?" cooed the Mistress.  "Well, it is only right and 
proper:  yours should ache and mine must always be soothed by your slave's 
tongue and mouth."

"Make him do it in the bowl and then he can lick it off your toes," someone 
suggested as her piss blasted into his ear.  "Wow - I just shot him in the 
ear.  Wonder if it will come out the other side!"

"When you complete a circle and the bowl is between your legs, slave, freeze 
and keep wanking.  You will only spend into the bowl," said the Mistress.

"Can I whip him as he cums?"  one of her friends asked.

"Yes.  Stand behind him and beat his back hard while he experiences his 
little moment of pleasure.  We don't want it too pleasurable for the slave, 
do we?"

The whip-Mistress walked behind the squatting beast in her barefeet and 
began laying the whip across his back and shoulders.  The sweat and piss on 
his body made the whip sting all the more.  "Yech, my feet are getting 
newsprint on them, too, from standing on the pissy papers."

"Don't worry," Mistress assured her.  "Slave can lick your dirty feet clean 
after he does his dirty deed.  Faster!!!  Whip him faster and wank faster 
and finger-fuck your asshole into a frenzy!  Make us all laugh, you clown 
with a shoe on your dumb head!"

The slave was shaking and trembling on his toes as the whip kept crashing 
into his back, striping him cruelly.  The heel on his skull dug deeper as 
the leather thong that kept it tied there shrank under the heat of the track 
lights and the female piss and his sweat.  A thin stream of blood ran from 
beneath the high heel and down the side of his face and this caused those 
who noticed it to laugh all the more.  His cock was drooling, his mouth was 
drooling saliva and the piss that had flooded it throughout the cruel target 
practice.  "Just like a beast....drooling and huffing and puffing.....a dumb 
oxen under the plow of our power," someone said as the whip continued to 
work his hide.

He was ready, his cock about to explode, the cum about to burst forth - when 
suddenly Mistress shouted "Stop wanking!"  The slave dutifully extended his 
arms full length.  The whip continued its vicious work - and while all eyes 
watched, the cock began its cum-dance, alone.  It bobbed and heaved and 
jerked about as big globs of white gunk bubbled from its tips and dripped 
down with audible splats into his bowl.  It seemed to never stop jerking 
about and spitting its stuff while the women all applauded and whistled and 
clapped.  One last drip, and the cock was finished.  The slave maintained 
his undignified posture.  "Bravo, slave, bravo - and all on film!  Now, " 
said the Mistress to the woman behind him who had stopped beating him after 
he had cum.  "Now - what about your pissy, print-streaked feet.  I know of a 
good cleaning agent.  Slave - take your cum bowl over to your whip-mistress, 
set it before her, dip your tongue into your cum and clean her feet of all 
that newsprint and piss while you thank her for beating you while you were 
beating yourself off for our enertainment."

The slave did as ordered.

"He looks like a dunce with the shoe on top of his shaven skull," was one 
comment he heard as he dipped his tongue into his own slime and began to 
lick the dirty toes thrust before him.

"He does whatever I want," said the Mistress with a smile.  "He has to.  He 
could not live without me."

The slave licked the toes of all the women throughout the night while they 
squirted what was left in their piss-pistols onto his whip-streaked back, 
stinging him.  He whimpered while they giggled.  This was Nature.  This was 
the way of the World.  Womankind ruled.  Men crawled.  He was...a footslave.