Training Day: Three Mistresses and their Slave's Feet
The Petite Princess Femdom studio was abuzz with excitement as three of their most popular mistresses, Kira, Dorimills, and Obsidia, prepared for another training session with their newest slave. Today's lesson was all about foot worship and the mistresses were eager to show their submissive exactly what it meant to serve them.
The slave, a young man barely in his twenties, was already kneeling before the three goddesses, his head bowed in submission. His heart raced as he anticipated what was to come, yet he knew that he had to obey without question. The mistresses were known for their harsh training methods and he had already been through his fair share of punishments. Still, he couldn't help but feel a twisted thrill at the thought of serving these beautiful women.
"Today," Kira began, her voice dripping with authority, "you will learn to worship our feet. And not just any feet, but three pairs of the most divine feet in this entire realm." She smiled cruelly and gestured towards Dorimills and Obsidia, who both preened under the praise.
The slave nodded, his throat bobbing eagerly. He wanted nothing more than to please these women, to show them just how devoted he was. So, when Kira gestured for him to start, he didn't hesitate.
First, he had to serve their socked feet. It wasn't easy, but he managed to kiss, lick, and suck on each pair of socks, paying special attention to the damp spots where their sweat had gathered. He could feel their dirty socks against his tongue, tasting the sweat and dirt left behind by their feet. But he didn't mind; in fact, he found it arousing.
Next, Kira removed her sock and shoved it into his mouth, forcing him to chew on the damp cotton while she laughed. It was humiliating, but he did as he was told, savoring the taste of his mistress on his tongue.
Finally, it was time to worship their bare feet. The slave knelt before each mistress in turn, kissing and licking their toes, massaging their arches, and sucking on their heels. He could feel their skin against his lips, soft and smooth, yet also firm and demanding. He revelled in the power they held over him, the way they controlled him with nothing more than a look or a word.
And when they spat on him, he didn't flinch. Instead, he opened his mouth eagerly, catching every drop of saliva in his mouth. It was a sign of his devotion, and he was proud to show it.
As the training session drew to a close, the mistresses took turns impaling the slave's mouth on their feet, leaving him gasping for air. But even as they humiliated him, he couldn't help but feel a sense of gratitude. For he was their slave, and they were his gods. And nothing could be more perfect than that.
