THE HATCH – Femdom Story

4.5
(2)

by Tau_90

femdom story the hatch
Illustration by: ElenaDarkBerry

Lying cramped in a tiny concrete cell, not even big enough to crawl. Concrete walls all around, oppressively holding him in place. Nothing to do, except to stare through the trapdoor of his cage, which was left open by one of his mistresses.

He was grateful for this little favor, though he knew she probably forgot to close the hatch the last time she had her boots cleaned by his slavish tongue. He adored these Women who brought such cruelty upon him.

That was part of the transaction between a mistress and a footslave. They treated him as an inanimate object, a useful tool, designed to clean their shoes and boots. A living shoeshine machine. And for that, he worshipped them like Goddesses.

After years of imprisonment in this prison under the harsh regime of his female prison guards, he couldn’t imagine anything else. Being a footslave to a woman was what he was always meant to be.

Chains, shackles, heavy bars and cramped cells, the punishment mask he was wearing, all of this was ultimately needless. It was an act of unnecessary cruelty exercised by his Mistresses for their own personal enjoyment. The ultimate enemy and the cruellest jailer of all was now his mind. It kept him in his place, on the ground under the heavy boots of his owners.

It was no wonder the prison mistresses decided to keep him long after he was ready to be sold on the slave market. It was one of the perks of being a prison guard.

You could decide which prisoner would be sent to the slave market and which would be kept in the prison as a personal toy for the luscious prison guards. And he was their favorite toy.

They played their cruel games with him, discovering ever new ways to torment and humiliate him. They started the spiral of his abasement, which led him to become their personal in-built shoeshine and pedicure machine.

And it became a perfect symbiosis. They would sit in their chairs high above him, stretching their legs imperiously towards him. And he would lick the dirt from their boots, sniffed their nylon clad feet and paint their toenails with a little brush which was fixed on the gag in his mouth. All the while they gloated over his misery.

It was weekend now and the guards room, in which he was incarcerated, was rather empty, apart from a few mistresses who were on their weekend shift. He lingered in his tiny cell on the floor, bellow the small assortment of punishment masks and other instruments of torment.

He observed a pair of brown leather riding boots, left a few centimeters from his hatch. Even without a mistress to wear them, they were a constant reminder of her presence. They commanded awe and he felt an unbearable urge to submit to them.

Even though they were just a piece of property, they represented the authority of their owner and in her absence it was his duty to pay respect to them. He held no illusions, in the hierarchy of property female footwear was above any footslave.

He desperately tried to reach them, to lick any speck of dirt from their soles, to sniff the sweet smell of leather, mixed with the smell of nylons and female foot perspiration. He couldn’t reach them. He couldn’t abase himself and serve his mistress by licking her footwear clean.

And he suffered for that. For years he was conditioned to perform the most humiliating tasks and now he was deprived of the only thing that made his life purposeful. So intense was his mental abasement that he could no longer stand these hours of peace. He hoped the weekend will be over soon. In the Monday his mistresses will return to toy with him. And he hoped they will be cruel to him.

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One comment on “THE HATCH – Femdom Story”

  • Los relatos de FEMDOMTODAY son exelentes verdadero femdom afortunados los esclavos que tienen el honor de estar bajo las botas de esos seres superiores que son las feminas, verdaderas Diosas a las cuales los hombres debemos adorar.

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