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Author Topic: FAMILY SLAVE 1  (Read 670 times)

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Offline karla

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FAMILY SLAVE 1
« on: December 06, 2014, 08:54:21 PM »
My name is Elizabeth Byron. I am 17 years old, have strawberry blonde hair and pale, freckly skin. I am thin and fairly pretty, at least that's what people used to tell me.

[/size]When I was 11 my mother left and my dad got remarried to a beautiful woman named Vanessa. Vanessa also has 2 children from a previous marriage, Tara who is 1year younger than me and Lisa who is 2 years older. Both of them are stunningly beautiful, far more so than me - as they frequently remind me.

[/size]My dad was a business man and was away a lot, and in his absence my stepmother and sisters treat me basically as a servant, making me do all of the household chores and not being very nice to me in general (the ugly duckling of the family, Vanessa called me, much to the amusement of my stepsisters who began calling me this regularly.

[/size]The thing is, I have always been a complete wimp, giving in instantly to people's demands and never standing up for myself. I can't help it, it's just the way I am.

[/size]I thought things were bad back then, but that was nothing. A few years ago my dad passed on, and that's when my servitude really began...

[/size]As I frantically run around the kitchen preparing dinner, I curse myself for only having two hands. My stepmother is going to be home any minute and the consequences of not having dinner on the table waiting do not bear thinking about. Panicking, I move as fast as I can to avoid her anger.

[/size]I am wearing just a pair of tatty, torn jogging pants and an equally scruffy t shirt - the only cloths I own. On my feet are a pair of high heeled boots, three sizes to small. They are agony to my feet, but I am being forced to wear them all week by Tara as punishment for not cleaning her shoes well enough. She is particularly creative when it comes to punishments.

[/size]I have almost finished dinner and am just about to plate it up when I hear the front door open and my stepmother enters the house. Petrified, I run into the hallway to meet her and collapse at her feet, prostrate on my knees. My stepmother is 37, voluptuously built with a little extra weight on her making her curvy, black hair and a face that looks at least ten years younger than it really is. She is beautiful, and as I kneel before her, I know than she is surveying me with that smug, superior smile that she always wears when I greet her.

[/size]"Welcome home, beautiful stepmummy," I say as I kiss each of her boots repeatedly.

[/size]"Is dinner ready?" She asks, her voice deceptively sweet.

[/size]"Erm, almost, your majesty," I say, my voice trembling. "I just need to plate it up, and then -"

[/size]"What?" She cuts me off, her voice venomous. "You mean to tell me you haven't done as you were told?"

[/size]"I'm sorry, oh magnificent one," I plead, cowering. "It's just that I've had so much to do; Tara told me to hand wash all her socks and pantyhose, and Lisa said I had to lick all her shoes -"

[/size]Reaching down, my stepmother grabs my hair, lifts my head up and slaps me hard across the face. Then, she spits on my lips.

[/size]"How dare you blame your sisters," she whispers, pulling my hair painfully so we are face to face. "You will be properly punished later. Now, get my dinner ready and be quick about it."

[/size]"Yes, my wonderful mummy," I say, my eyes full of tears. "Right away."

[/size]She lets go of me and walks into the kitchen. I crawl after her and hurriedly finish preparing her dinner. I put it on the table before her along with a glass of wine, and wait obediently on my knees for further instruction. She just snaps her fingers, points at her booted feet and says, "make yourself useful."

[/size]I immediately crawl under the table and kneel at her feet. She is wearing her usual boots that she wears when she goes out in the day (she doesn't work, as my dad left quite a lot of money) and I know from experience that her feet sweat a lot in them.

[/size]"May I lick your beautiful boots clean, my queen?" I ask, as I have been trained to do.

[/size]"No, take 'em off. My feet are killing me."

[/size]I unzip her first boot and slide it off her foot. She is wearing black pantyhose and as her foot is freed, the stench hits me. I wrinkle my nose. Her foot smells absolutely putrid, even worse than usual. I actually wretch a little, causing my stepmother to laugh.

[/size]"As a little treat for you, I re-wore yesterday's pantyhose," she says as she wiggles her stinky, nylon-clad toes Just inches from my face. "Sniff."

[/size]Feeling like the most pathetic creature in the world, I press my nose into my stepmothers hot, sweaty feet and sniff. They are so smelly, I feel like I want to pass out. I just keep sniffing, knowing I don't have a choice.

[/size]"How do they smell?" She asks, mockingly.

[/size]"Wonderful, oh sweet-smelling princess," I lie, as this is what she wants to hear."

[/size]"Really? They smell disgusting from here, but it doesn't surprise me that you like it; you've always been a little weirdo. Take off my other boot and we'll see which smells better."

[/size]Prepared for the worst, I take off her other boot. It smells just as bad, and the smell is stronger now both of her feet are free. After a while, she says, "that's enough sniffing. My little tootsies are aching like crazy; massage them for me."

[/size]Taking her left foot in my hand, reverently (I know I will be punished if she is not satisfied) I begin kneading her fleshy soles. As I rub my stepmothers fragrant feet, I keep my face within a few inches of her wriggling toes so the stink is constantly filling my nostrils, as this is how my family like me to be when I am massaging any of their feet. My stepmothers moans of pleasure let me know that I am safe, she is happy.

[/size]"Do my toes, slavegirl," she says between mouthfuls of the dinner I cooked for her.

[/size]"Yes, goddess," I reply, and obediently begin fondling my stepmothers stinky toes.

[/size]

[/size]Part 2:

[/size]As I gently caress my stepmother’s insteps, she finishes eating.

[/size]“That was almost as bad as the crap you served me last night,” she says as she brings her toe to my chin and tilts my head upwards so I am looking into her eyes.

[/size]“I – I’m so so sorry, my fabulous” –

[/size]“Stop with the names now, it’s getting old,” she tells me (She had ordered me last night to come up with different complementary names every time I address her, for her own amusement). “Go back to calling me what you usually call me.”

[/size]“Yes, mummy,” I say.

[/size]“Now,” she says, slapping my cheek quite hard with her foot, “refill my wine and then follow me into the living room.”

[/size]I get the wine and crawl into the living room. She is sitting on the sofa.

[/size]“Now,” she says as I hand her wine to her, “punishment time. Let’s see, what am I going to do to you?” She considers for a moment, then says, “Well, I suppose a spanking will be enough. Don’t you think, slavegirl?”

[/size]“Yes, mummy,” I say, my voice trembling a little.

[/size]“Is that all you have to say?” She asks, outraged. “Aren’t you even going to thank me for letting you off so lightly?”

[/size]“I’m sorry! Thank you, mummy, for being so kind to me, even though I’m so worthless!” I feel myself blush with shame. Here I am, on my knees, thanking my stepmother who I have spent half my life slavishly waiting on for a punishment I do not even deserve. Why am I so pathetic?

[/size]She leans in a spits in my face again. “Thank me properly, you pathetic little worm.” I crawl to her feet and start kissing them all over, long, loud kisses. “Kiss the bottoms of my toes,” she commands. She gives a little sigh of pleasure as I start smooching her wriggling toes.

[/size]“Ok, get up here then,” she says, daintily patting her knee. My heart racing, I climb up into my position across my stepmother’s knees, face down. She gingerly pulls my pants down, exposing my bottom. “Hmm… I think a dozen will do,” she says as she caresses my trembling backside, “you count.”

[/size]Closing my eyes and steeling myself, I stammer, “one.”The first smack brings tears to my eyes, the pain is unbearable. “Two,” I sob, immediately. The pain seems to increase tenfold. “Three.” Tears are streaming down my face now. After the tenth smack, I am in so much pain I hesitate, unable to bring myself to say eleven. This is a mistake.

[/size]“Oh dear, we’re hesitating, are we?” She says, and I can tell from her tone that she is enjoying my suffering. “That’s very naughty. Start again.” And so the whole process is repeated. By the time it is finally over, my bottom is in agony and I am gasping for breath. “What do you have to say for yourself?” She asks me, placing her palm to my stinging butt-cheek and feeling the heat emanating from it.

[/size]“S – s – sorry, mummy.”

[/size]“And?”

[/size]“Thank you for teaching me a lesson.”

[/size]Giggling at me, my stepmother pushes me to the floor. I lie there, gasping.

[/size]“Don’t just lie there,” she says, kicking me. “Get back to work. My feet are still aching.”

[/size]Still crying, I get to my knees. I reach down to pull up my pants, but my stepmother stops me. “Leave them as they are. I want your sister to be able to see the state of your aching butt. It will give them a give laugh.”

[/size]So, my sweatpants around my knees, I crawl to my stepmother’s putrid feet and start massaging them.

[/size]“Take off my nylons,” she commands. I reach up and begin sliding off my stepmothers pantyhose. When I slide them all the way off her sweaty feet, I blanch. Her bare feet smell even worse. I want to wrinkle my nose in disgust, but I know that this could get me in even more trouble. I resume rubbing her bare feet. They are sweaty and, although my stepmother’s feet are as beautiful as the rest of her, I still find them disgusting. Regardless, I continue slavishly pampering them, using my thumbs to sooth the balls of her feet.

[/size]“Oh my God, you’re so pathetic,” she laughs at me. “Just look at you, on your knees massaging my sweaty, reeking feet. You are such a worthless fucking freak.”

[/size]“Yes, mummy,” I reply, meekly.

[/size]“Your little sister will be home from the gym soon. You had better get her dinner ready. First, though, suck on my toes.” Disgusted with myself, I open my mouth and begin sucking on her stinky toes. They taste as bad as they smell, absolutely disgusting. As I suck, I use my tongue to clean the toejam and sweat that has gathered in between them, as I have been trained to do. My stepmother’s moans of pleasure let me know that I am doing a good job, which is a relief as I don’t think I could handle another spanking.

[/size]Part 3:When my stepmother is satisfied with my efforts on her toes, I am ordered to go and prepare dinner for Tara, my younger stepsister. I do this, with my pants still around my knees, my bruised bottom exposed.

[/size]Tara is built a bit like me, only a little shorter and curvier. She has light brown hair, fair skin and a pixieish face with a beautiful smile that looks deceptively innocent.

[/size]Just as I put her plate on the table, she enters the house and comes into the kitchen. I drop to me knees and crawl to her feet. I begin kissing her shoes, and say "welcome home, princess."

[/size]"Hello, slavegirl," she coos, reaching down and scratching behind my ears. She often treats me like this, as if I am her faithful pet - which I suppose I kind of am. She giggles at the state of my bum, but doesn't comment. It is not that unusual for me to have a battered backside. I still feel humiliated, with my sore body on display, with my pants around my ankles, I know I must look completely pathetic.

[/size]"I prepared your dinner," I tell her.

[/size]"Oh, I'm not hungry," she says, "I already ate."

[/size]My stomach growls as I watch her drop the food into the bin - I haven't eaten in over 24 hours.

[/size]"Oh, I thought of something funny I want to try today." She goes and gets a large bowl which she fills with water. She puts it on the floor in front of me. "Drink. Quickly."

[/size]I do, lapping it up like a puppy. When I finish, Tara refills the bowl and tells me to drink it all. My body feels full and I really struggle. Tara tells me to hurry up, kicking me on my sore bum, causing me to whimper. By the time I finish I feel sick and bloated and I hope there won't be any more. Luckily, Tara heads for the living room. "Come on, ugly duckling. I've just jogged 4 miles at the gym and my tootsies need some attention."

[/size]Tara goes to the gym 4 nights a week and always wears the same trainers, without socks. Her feet always reek afterwards. I got a little whiff when I kissed her shoes and I dread taking hem off.

[/size]My stepmother has gone upstairs and Tara has taken her seat. Her feet are propped up on the footstool and I crawl to them and kneel before her.

[/size]"No need to lick my shoes today. I'm dying for a nice, soothing foot massage."

[/size]I untie my little sisters shoe laces and gently ease her shoes from her feet. The smell is unbelievable. It is surprising that someone so beautiful can have such foul, sour smelling feet. Even I can tell they are pretty, smooth and petite with cute, wriggly little toes. The smell, however, is almost unbearable and I find myself gagging as the stench fills my nostrils. Unlike my stepmother, Tara doesn't insist on me pretending to like her feet as she enjoys seeing my suffering plainly on my face. She giggles at me now as I recoil.

[/size]"They're a little bit smelly," she says, which is the understatement of the century. "Go on, sis. Sniff in between my toes. Big whiffs, I want to be able to hear you."

[/size]Steeling myself, I lean in and smell between my little sisters wriggling toes. The smell is so strong, it makes me feel dizzy. My face screws up in disgust and I inhale the foul stench deeply, bringing more giggles from my stepsister.

[/size]As I sniff, my stepmother pokes her head around the door. "Jesus Christ, that must have been one hell of a workout," she laughs, "I can smell your feet from the hallway."

[/size]"I got them extra stinky on the treadmill," she smiles. "Luckily, my big sister is going to lick them nice and clean for me, until they don't smell anymore."

[/size]Laughing at me, my stepmother leaves the room again.

[/size]"You can start my giving a nice, soothing footrub," she says sweetly. "There's no need to use any lotion, they're moist enough already."

[/size]They certainly are, I can actually see vapour emanating from her toes. I take her left foot into my hands and start rubbing. I begin by kneading the soles of her dainty feet with my thumbs, my nose just a couple of inches from her stinky toes. Then I use the back of my fingers to sooth her insoles and then firmly caress her arches, eliciting moans from Tara. After a while I start to really need to pee, unsurprisingly. I don't dare ask permission to use the bathroom, but I grow steadily more uncomfortable as I continue massaging her feet. After a while I start to squirm. Tara notices, and smiles slyly.

[/size]"Anything wrong, sis?"

[/size]"No princess... I mean, yes, kind of. Since you made me drink all that water, I really need to pee."

[/size]"We'll then," she says, her voice mischievously sugary, "ask."

[/size]"Erm," I hesitate as I gently pull on her toes, "please may I go to the bathroom, Princess Tara?"

[/size]She looks down at me for a few seconds, and then laughs. "Nope, I'm going to enjoy watching you squirm while you massage my stinky feet," she laughs, evilly. I realise she planned this, and don't know how to respond as I realise I have no choice but to suffer in silence. Now seriously uncomfortable, I try to just focus on massaging her feet, to take my mind off it. Besides, I hope that if I do a good enough job soothing her aching pups, she might let me pee sooner.

[/size]Part 4:As I continue obediently to massage my little sister’s unbelievably pungent feet, doing my best to please her despite my almost unbearable desperation to pee, her phone rings.

[/size]“Hey, Anna,” she says.

[/size]Anna is Tara’s best friend. She is as beautiful as Tara; petite, cute and bubbly. She is also every bit as cruel as Tara, and they love thinking of ways of abusing and humiliating me together.

[/size]“Yeah, I just got home… No, not yet, I’m making her massage them first… I know, she’s such a loser! They smell absolutely vile from here, I can’t even imagine how bad it must be for her, her nose is practically touching my little tippy-toes. But, hey, that’s not my problem; an unworthy little doggy like her should be honoured to sooth my tired pups, no matter how bad they smell!” She giggles a lot at this. “Yeah, I did the water thing, I made her drink two whole bowls and Oh my god, it is fucking hilarious! She’s wriggling around at my feet like a little worm, she’s terrified of letting anything go because she knows what I’ll do to her if she does. She’s even started rubbing my feet better, as if that’s going to get her off any sooner –if anything, I should punish her for not doing her best in the first place! Yes, you should totally come round and see!” Anna says something. Tara listens and her eyes brighten. “Yes, that’s an amazing idea! Come round now and we’ll do it. Ok, byyee.”

[/size]“Guess what, foot-breath? Me, Anna and you are going to play dollies! We’ve even got a new outfit that’s going to look absolutely darling on you.”

[/size]I feel myself tremble with dread. As you have probably guessed, when Tara and Anna play “dollies” I’m the doll. They dress me up in all kinds of humiliating costumes and make me do things for their amusement. Recently I have been a French maid, a slug, the hunchback of Notre-Dame and a toilet (like I said earlier, Tara is very creative). They record it all, but not to go on the internet as my stepmother is weary of too many people knowing about me, in case someone tells social services or something. Instead, Tara has sleepovers where all her friends come over and they watch the videos through, with popcorn. I am always forced to crawl from girl to girl, giving footrubs and being verbally degraded while the girls laugh at the horrible things Tara and Anna make me do. This is why I am now filled with terror as I redouble my efforts to sooth my sister’s hot, rancid feet in hopes that she might be mercifull – although I should really no better, but then I might at as well at least pretend that I have a hope.

[/size]“Ahem, excuse me, my pathetic excuse for a big sister,”she says, and I look up as her voice has taken on a dangerously whispery tone that I have learned to dread. She has raised an annoyed eyebrow, also a danger sign. “I just told you that we have bought you a present. Are you even going to bother thanking me, you ungrateful bitch?” My fear rising rapidly, I put my lips to my little sister's feet and lay a series of long, loud smooches all over her toes and soles.

[/size]“Thankyou for being so sweet and generous to me, my beautiful baby sister,” I say, trying to sound as sincere as I can, hoping it will be enough to save me from further punishment.

[/size]Seeming satisfied, she returns her attention to the tv and I am about to heave an inward sigh of relief when she says, “well, if you think an ungrateful little doggy like you is going to be allowed to go weewee any time soon, you are sadly mistaken.”

[/size]My eyes widen in alarm. By now I am practically spazming with desperation. Kneading her soles as though my life depends on it and leaning right in so that my nose is touching the tips of her sour smelling toes and my lips are pressed to her sweaty soles, I plead, “Please, my beautiful, perfect, sweet, caring, baby sister! Please, I beg you, as your miserable, unworthy, pathetic little puppy-slave, let me go soon! I’ll do anything” –

[/size]She just laughs at me, kicking me in the face hard enough to send me to the floor with a whimper. “Yes, I am all those things and yes, you are all those things too. And no, you may not pee and if you let go of so much as a drop I make sure you regret it every day for the rest of your sorry little existence. Besides, what do you mean you’ll ‘do anything?’ You do whatever I say anyway, you stupid fucking clown! Get back to work on my aching feet, you’ve barely relaxed them at all you lazy little whore. On second, thoughts, Anna’s here. Go let her in.”

[/size]I crawl to the door with my thighs squeezed tightly together for fear of losing control of my bladder. Anna knocks and then lets herself in. As I kiss her leather flats, she emits a loud HA! of sadistic delight at the sight of me.

[/size]“Welcome, Princess Anna.”

[/size]“Wow, you look ridiculous! As if you actually have your pants down, you freak! Oh, but it looks like someone spanked you good. Have you been a bad doggy for someone? Who was it? and why?”

[/size]“My mummy spanked me, for being a stupid worthless bitch,”I say, blushing as she laughs down at me. These types of answers generally are keep me out of too much trouble. Still laughing at me, she shoves me aside with her foot and goes to join Tara in the living room. Full to the brim with urine and fear, I follow.

[/size]“Wow,” Anna stops in the doorway and pinches her nose. “No offence babe, but those feet smell absolutely putrid, even from here.”

[/size]“That’s because I haven’t had foot-breath over there lick the stink away yet. I’m saving that for later, so for now she can just carry on enjoying the stench of my beautiful feet.”

[/size]I haven’t been told to do otherwise yet, so crawl back to Tara’s feet. When I get there, I hear Tara go “ahem,” and look up to see she has raised the eyebrow again. realising my mistake, I once again plant kisses all over my little sister feet. “Thankyou for letting me carry on smelling your perfect, pretty feet with my ugly, unworthy nose, my beautiful baby sister.”Anna laughs out loud as my sister gives a contented giggle.

[/size]“I just wish mine were as stinky,” Anna sighs as she slides out of her flats. “I do wear these shoes a lot and they get pretty sweaty, trapped in the leather, but compared to those puppies I don’t think they’ll be much competition.”

[/size]“Oh, I’m sure they’ll be enough for her. Dogs do have a super strong sense of smell, remember.” They both laugh. “Go smell Anna’s feet, ugly duckling”she kicks me away. Anna’s right, her feet don’t smell nearly as bad as Tara’s, but she wore leather flats without socks so they still smell pretty ripe. The smell isn’t as bad as the fact that this is my younger sister’s friend, a guest in this house which used to belong to just my father and I, making me sniff her feet for no other reason than to humiliate me. That makes me feel pathetic and, for some reason, I never get used to feeling like that. Although I am constantly being humiliated and forced to do things against my will, I never stop feeling the humiliation as sharply as I did the first time. If anything, it gets worse and worse as I sink deeper and deeper.

[/size]“Well, shall we get started?” Tara says excitedly with a girly clapping of her hands, sitting up. “I’m ready to play dollies! We have our doll, so she just needs to go fetch the rest of the things and we’re ready to get started! Yay!” She claps her hands again, giddily. I dread to think what she has planned…

[/size]A few minutes later, I am lying on my back, naked, in the middle of the living room floor (The horrendously tight shoes that Tara is making me wear have been removed, although Tara has told me I will have to wear them for another week to make up for this). I am still agonisingly desperate to pee, with my legs crossed to hold it in. Anna is standing above me holding the video camera, as it is usually her job to record the “game”. Tara is standing by my head, the stench from her feet filling my nostrils, making me feel slightly sick. In Tara’s hand is a bag containing whatever costume it is they have chosen for me.

[/size]“OK,” Tara says, excitedly, “I think we’re all ready…play.”

[/size]Looking equally excited, Anna turns the camera on. “Hiii, I’m Tara,” she blows a kiss and waves prettily at the camera, “and this is my beautiful BFF, Anna,” Anna turns the camera on herself and waves too, “and this,”the camera turns to capture me, panning along my naked, trembling body and zooming in to rest on blushing face, still streaked with tears from my spanking earlier, “is our ugly little dolly! Guess what?” She leans in and whispers to the camera in her usual sexy, playful manner.“Earlier today, we made dolly drink 2 massive bowlfuls of water and we haven’t let her pee at all since! Dolly knows that if she does go weewee before we say, she’ll be smashed up and throw away like any other bad, faulty toy. So,” she backs away from the camera and raises the bag, “let’s see what dolly is going to be dressed up in today.” Looking positively jubilant, she turns the bag over and empties the contents onto the floor. Unable to resist (I’m not supposed to move unless instructed to do so) I turn my head slightly to see what it is. My heart sinks.

[/size]A blanket. A pacifier. An adult-size diaper. A pink, adult-size bonnet. A rattle. A pair of pink, adult-size baby shoes. A baby’s milk-bottle.

[/size]“She’s going to be our very own ‘ickle baby!”Tara screeches with delight.

[/size]Part 5:“So,” Tara says, sitting down beside me, “the first thing we need to do is get the baby’s daipey on before it has an accident. Grabbing the diaper up off the floor, she pokes my leg and says, “wegs up, wittle baby,”speaking in baby talk to make me feel even more humiliated. With tremendous effort while still holding in a painful amount of water, I raise my legs up off the ground. “Higher!” She pinches my leg with her sharp nails, making me raise them unnaturally high. “Now, we put the daipey under baby’s red little bottom,”she puts the diaper under me. “Oh, but we forgot the talc. Back in a mo’.”

[/size]She leaves the room. I start to lower my legs, only for Anna to poke me hard in the side of my tummy with her toe. “No-one told you to move, bitch.” So I am forced to wait with my legs in the air at a very uncomfortable angle while I wait for Tara to come back. After what seems like a very long time, she returns.

[/size]“Ok, so I couldn’t find any actual talc,” she says, sitting back down, “but this should do just as good.” I glance down and, my eyes widen with fear. She is holding a shaker of salt. “Hold still and keep quiet now, little baby,” she says, still in the mock baby-voice, “while mummy changes your daipy.” She bends forward, pauses, then says to me, “obviously, just cos you are wearing your daipey, doesn’t mean you can go weewee until we’ve given permission. You don’t want to see what happens to bad baby’s who go too early.” With that she leans forward and applies the salt to my bum and diaper. For a few moments I feel nothing – then fire! The tender spot from my spanking feels like it has been set alight. I try not to make any noise as my eyes fill with more tears, but by the time Tara has fastened my diaper on both sides I can’t stop myself from wailing out!

[/size]“Aw, look, the silly babies blubbering,” Anna says uncaringly.

[/size]“No problem, that’s what this is for,” Tara picks up the pacifier and roughly jams it between my lips. I’m still moaning, but the wailing is blocked by the pacifier. “There, that’s better,” Tara smiles, that beautiful, innocent smile. “Couldn’t have that racket spoiling all the fun, could we baby?”

[/size]“Hey, since she’s our baby, shouldn’t we name her?” Anna asks excitedly.

[/size]“Yes, of course we should! But what should we call her?”

[/size]“How about… Foot Breath?”

[/size]“HAHA, YES!” Tara claps her hands together, “I love it. OK, ‘ickle Foot Breath, “she moves towards my head, “lets get that cap on. We don’t want baby Foot Breath’s head getting cold…”

[/size]A few minutes later, I am wearing a diaper, bonnet, shoes, and waving a pink rattle around in one hand. Tara and Anna are in hysterics. “That is the most pethetic thing I have ever seen!” Anna says between bursts her laughter.

[/size]“I know! She looks so fucking stupid,” Tara laughs.

[/size]“What should we do with her now?”

[/size]“Hmm… let’s feed her!” Tara grabs the baby-bottle from the floor. “Be right back.”

[/size]As Tara leaves, Anna walks to my head. She puts her foot in my face, cupping her toes over my nose, filling my nostrils with her vinegary, leathery stench. A minute later, Tara returns and she takes it off again.

[/size]“Here, baba,” Tara sits down and lifts my head onto her lap. Holding up the bottle, she shows it to the camera. “Today, Foot Breath gets a nice, yummy bottle of warm milk… oh, I almost forgot, there’s a pair of my dirty, disgusting, smelly gym socks in there as well. Let’s just take out the baby’s binky,” she pulls out my pacifier.” But wait – aren’t you hungry, little baba?” She looks at Anna. “Don’t babies usually cry when they’re hungry?”

[/size]“Oh yeah,” she frowns. “I think they do.”

[/size]“Oh… Well, I guess the baby isn’t hungry then…” As she says this, she snakes her hand down my chest and, suddenly, takes my nipple between her two sharp fingernails and squeezes as hard as she can. Instantly, my eyes fill with tears and I cry out in agony. “There we go, “ Tara says happily, “open up, Foot Breath.”

[/size]With that, she sticks the bottle in my mouth and I start sucking. The milk tastes horrible, the socks have made it taste sour and rancid, she must have worn them several times without washing them. I gag and reflexively try to stop, but Tara just jams the bottle in farther and squeezes my nostrils closed, stopping my breath.

[/size]“Bad baby. A growing girl needs to eat up all her din-dins. Until you’ve drinked it all up, you’ve lost your breathing privelages!”

[/size]How I managed to swallow down all of that rank, vile foot-milk without breathing, I have no idea. I guess it’s probably because I don’t have a choice. When it is all gone, Tara lets go of my nose and they both laugh again as I gasp for breath.

[/size]“I bet ‘ickle baby Foot Breath really wants to go weewee now, huh?” Tara says, mockingly.

[/size]I nod frantically, desperate.

[/size]“But that was just starters. You still have to have the main course…” I am confused, but then Tara jumps onto the couch and puts her feet onto the footstool. I notice also that she is now wearing slippers, the stinky ones that she wears every night. “Come on, Foot Breath; come lick mummy’s smelly, sweaty gym feet clean. When all of the stink is gone, then you can pee!”

[/size]Sore, desperate, miserable, but finally seeing an end in sight, I jump up, legs together so I don’t let anything go, I crawl to Tara’s feet. I gently slide her slippers off, and instantly have to pinch my nose. If anything, they smell worse than before, having acquired a new layer of sweat trapped inside the tatty old slippers.

[/size]“Awww, does the wickle baby not like the smell of mummy’s tired, stinky feet?” She leans forward and pulls my hair so my face is pulled into her feet. “Sniff.” Really wanting to start licking so I can get it over with, I start taking big whiffs of my little sisters feet. “Yeah, go on, sniff my feet!” She giggles. “You’re such a loser, I bet they stink.”

[/size]“They really do,” Anna says, leaning away and pulling a face. “They stink so bad.”

[/size]“I bet they taste even better; go on, you pathetic excuse for a baby. Lick your mummy’s feet clean. It’s your din dins. Gobble it all up, then you get to pee.”

[/size]Frantically, I stick my tongue to her soles and lick from heel to toe. I think I’m going to be sick. They smell every bit as bad as they smell, maybe worse. My head swims and it is only by reminding myself that I have no alternative that I am able to continue. I lap at her heels, lick her soles, suck her toes, dig in between them to lick out all of the toe jam and sweat. Finally, feeling sick and my eyes watering from the taste and stench, I look pleadingly up at my little sister.

[/size]“Hmm, what do you think Anna? Is she done?”

[/size]Anna leans slightly in and sniffs the air. “Bluergh,” she wrinkles her nose, “no way!”

[/size]“Nope, sorry Foot Breath, they still stink.” She snaps her fingers as she flexes her toes in my face. “Back to work.”

[/size]Tears streaking down my face, I go over my sister’s still pungent feet with my tongue, circling her toes, lapping at her soles, twisting to suck at the tops of her feet. Having done this a few times, I look up again at my sister, hoping against hope that she shows some mercy.

[/size]“Well… I guess they’re ok. Which means, you can – but, wait a minute!” She looks over at Anna. “You must feel so left out!”

[/size]“I have to say, that did look nice.” I shake my head frantically, clasping my hands and holding them up, pleading.

[/size]“Bad baby! How dare you ignore aunty Anna like that!” She hooks her foot around my head and forcefully flings me to the floor at Anna’s feet. I get up and try to plead again. My stomach feels like it is going to burst. “What’s that, Foot Breath?” Anna cups her hand behind her ear. “Sorry, I don’t speak baby. Now, get to work. Give Aunty Anna a nice relaxing foot bath with your worthless, disgusting tongue and then you can finally pee.” Unsure whether to believe her, I never the less begin, sucking on her sweaty little toes. They don’t smell or taste nearly as bad as Tara’s but it is still humiliating.

[/size]“Harder!” Anna commands as I struggle to lick her arches. Finally having licked and sucked them all over twice, I look up, my eyes desperate.

[/size]“Ok, Tara says, laughing, “Lie back on your blankey.” I hurriedly obey. “Suck your binkey.” She jams it in my mouth and I start sucking furiously. “Shake your rattle, too.” I do. “You may pee, in 1 minute. She looks at her watch and counts down as I wriggle to hold it in.”

[/size]“Haha! Look at her squirm, like a slimy little worm,”Anna giggles, recording me with the camera.

[/size]“Her we go,” Tara puts her foot under my nostrils, still smelly, in spite of my ministrations. “3, 2, 1… You may pee, Foot Breath!”

[/size]Feeling my every muscle relax, I let go. It is uncomfortable, I can feel the warm liquid running down my inner thigh. It is sticky, as it spreads through the diaper and starts to cool against my tender skin. Tara and Anna are in hysterics, pointing and laughing at my rapidly expanding diaper.

[/size]Part 6:

[/size]A few hours later I am still wearing the diaper, which is itching like crazy and I’m fairly sure it’s giving me a rash. The tight shoes are on again too, Tara and Anna even recorded my moans and winces of pain as I squeezed them back on. I am on all fours, serving as a footrest for my stepmother and Tara. There is an actual footrest beside me, unused. The sore spot from my spanking earlier is itching badly, so I try wriggling it a little hoping it will scratch against the inside of the diaper and give me some relief. I receive a hard kick from my stepmother . ‘Hold still, foot breath.’ That name seems to be catching on.

[/size]            Tara slides off her slipper and holds her foot underneath my nostrils. ‘Smell my feet,’ she says in her cute, girly voice. I do, and although they don’t smell as bad as they did earlier, they still stink, having sweated a lot inside her well-worn slippers. I never understand the cruelty of my family. There is no reason to use me as a footstool when there is one already there, and Tara doesn’t benefit from having me sniff her putrid feet. All it does in demean me for no reason, which I suppose is the point. As a little girl I used to wonder why they would want to do this to me for no reason, but now I am so used to it that I don’t even question it in my own mind. They treat me this way because they can, because I am such a pushover. That’s all there is to it.

[/size]‘Little kisses,’ Tara commands, and I obediently start administering little pecks all over the top of her foot. Tara sighs with pleasure and says to her mother, ‘there really is nothing like having your big sister kiss your smelly feet after a long day.’

[/size]‘Well, at least the lazy little bitch is good for something. The crap she keeps serving me at meals, she’s lucky we keep her here at all. A few nights on the streets without food or clothing would probably teach her some appreciation, then she might put in a little bit more effort.’

[/size]‘I’m sorry, mummy,’ I say between kisses.

[/size]‘I should think so, Foot Breath.’

[/size]Kicking me in the face and then standing up, Tara says, ‘I’m going to bed. Night night, mummy.’

[/size]‘Goodnight, sweetheart. Do you need your sister to come and help you get ready for bed?’

[/size]‘No, not tonight. You can keep her.’ She reaches down and scratches behind my ears. ‘night, little baby foot breath.’

[/size]‘Goodnight, Princess Tara.’

[/size]When she has left the room, my stepmother puts her slippered foot in front of my face and tells me to take it off. I do, using my mouth. As I free her large foot and  she wriggles her toes, the horrid smell hits me once again. You would think that after all these years of being forced to smell feet I would be used to it, but I never can be. I have always hated feet more than anything, which is why my family first started making me service their feet so much. ‘Suckle my toes,’ I am commanded, so I lean forward and take her hot, salty toes into my tired mouth. I suck, lick, apply pressure to spots that I know she will like. She moans with pleasure as I debase myself at her feet. Finally, she gets up. ‘Im going to bed. Come help me get ready.’

[/size]            I crawl after her, up the stairs and into the bathroom. I lap at her heels as she brushes her teeth and when she is done, I open my mouth wide so she can spit her refuse into my mouth. I am then handed my own toothbrush, an old bristly one that I often use to clean shoes, which I use to brush my own teeth, using my stepmothers waste as toothpaste. We go through to her huge, plush bedroom and I help my stepmother undress and then await her command. She climbs into bed. Massage my feet while I relax. I crawl to the foot of the bed, get my arms and head under the covers and start caressing her feet, hoping it won’t be for too long, as I don’t think I can take much more foot odour today. ‘You know slave girl, you really are so pathetic. There are slugs with more dignity then you. You are worthless, just like your cunt mother and your creepy dad – as if I would ever have married someone like that if he wasn’t rich! I only wanted his money, lucky for me I got his daughter too! It’s no nice for me and my stepdaughters to have all this money and beauty. It makes it even better having an ugly, worthless little thing like you to use and abuse and constantly remind us how perfect and lucky we are.’ She giggles. There are more tears running down my face, but I just continue rubbing my stepmother hot feet, using my thumbs to caress and squeeze in between her toes. I hate myself so much for letting them treat me like this, but I am just too weak and pathetic to do any different. I just hope I can relax her enough quickly so that I can be dismissed. After about 20 minutes as I am stroking my stepmother’s arches, she sleepily tells me to fuck off. I do, kissing her feet and saying ‘goodnight, mummy.’

[/size]Every room in this house has video cameras in it. The reason for this is to keep me working hard, as I never know when my stepmother will check a recording to see how fast I am going on any given day. The other reason is to remind me that I have absolutely no rights. I am never allowed to leave the house, so I am constantly being recorded, with never a moments privacy. My bedroom is a tiny little cupboard under the stairs, which has no bed but a few sheets of newspaper on the floor instead. Scattered all over the floor are old, worn, stinky socks which keep my bedroom constantly smelling of feet. This room also contains a camera, so they can even see me when I am sleeping if they want to.

[/size]            Another house rule is that I am never allowed more than five hours sleep per night. The reason for this is because it means I feel constantly tired, making me even more servile and easy to push around. As I am up at 7 every morning, I am never allowed to go to sleep until 2. Until then, I am to remain on my knees sniffing socks from my floor. I do this for half an hour until it is my bedtime. I writhe around on the rustling newspaper, trying in vain to get comfortable. The diaper itches and the shoes hurt.

[/size]Tomorrow my older stepsister, Lisa, gets back from a music festival. She will have been wearing the same socks all weekend, in wellies, dancing constantly in the hot sun. She also told me before she left that she will be wearing the same socks that she wore to the last two festivals, which have not been washed once.  I fall asleep, dreading the stench and humiliation that await me tomorrow...

Offline alideeb

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Re: FAMILY SLAVE 1
« Reply #1 on: January 13, 2015, 08:25:32 AM »
lovely lesbian fetish story

 

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