Foot Slave to the Rich Girl: Foot Worship Humiliation Femdom Erotica (I Was Humiliated, and I Loved It!)

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Damn right. I don't want anything to do with you. Don't call me again... unless..." she paused, like something occured to her. "Are you a money man, James? Are you loaded?" Humm..." Rita said, considering. "You still have not showed Donna what an extraordinary foot massager you are! You should give her one. Right, Donna?" I felt like an empty shell as I walked to the kitchen were my clothes were. I took off the maid uniform and put my own clothes on. At the door I thought about saying goodbye, but the women were chatting and laughing and probably would not hear me. I got in the car and drove off. I think I was too numb to even feel relieved. I got home and slept for sixteen hours. There. Now get out. I don't wanna see you ever again. If you see me - anywhere, anytime - leave. Make sure to disappear. Is that understood?" Rita said.

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I moved my nose along their soles. The stink distracted me, but at the same time their feet halfway hid my face from their humiliating stare. I went on like that. Sporadically kissing their feet to please them. I was nervous and couldn't really focus, as if my hand, or penis, was running on empty. To obtain an erection was one thing, to reach an orgasm was something else. Donna soon moved so she was sitting right in front of me. The spanking was even more humiliating when I had to take it face to face with her. She was smiling as usual. As if that was not enough, she put her feet up on the table right in my face. She stroked and rubbed my face with her smelly feet, even curling her toes around my nose fully covering it in moist nylon, while Rita kept slapping me harder and I uttered the degrading words, almost crying. I looked around. I couldn't see anything suitable. The table was too tall. If there was something, obviously she would know, as lived there. I suppose this will be a little embarrassing for you, but after the massage it would feel so nice. You're already on your knees, so if you only adjust your position somewhat… you know, on all fours… it doesn't bother your ego, does it?" she said.There... yet." I said, more to myself than to her, I guess, trying to figure out how I could respond. Is this how you usually treat men?" I said. I almost dared not ask, but I needed to find out why they had abused me.

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What a recognition," Donna said, laughing, "to know you just reached your maximum pleasure from smelling the stinkiest, lowest part of someone's body."

Yes, I think maybe you chose the totally, toe-tally that is, wrong approach." Rita said. "He is probably just getting more turned on."

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let's see… I'm good at cooking! I could make you a great dinner. And… I'm a quite good singer, actually, if that's of any interest. And I can massage you! I've been told I'm good, anyway. Maybe that's a little to intimate, though. I don't mean to rush things here. Sorry. But, well, anyway, I could give you just a foot massage, you know, or something. If you'd like that." I felt like I had blown it.

Women are strange. Most of them are nice, at least when you get to know them and they start to trust you. But a few know all to well if they are good looking and just act like spoiled bitches. Or maybe that is some kind of trust issue too? Anyway, what's really behind their painted faces is hard to find out.