Tag Archives: Shoe Worship


He was Her husband. But he was also Her slave. They were very discreet about it though, nobody knew or suspected a thing. Until … two of Her closest friends dropped by for a visit. Everything went well at first; harmless chatter, tea & biscuits. But then, out of the blue, his Wife (aka his Mistress) looked at him and said: Come here, slave.
The stirring stopped and you could hear a tea leaf drop. He didn’t know where to look and his face turned bright red.
He’s My slave, She explained, almost apologetically. He obeys Me in everything, literally everything. It’s wonderful and I can heartily recommend it. She looked at Her husband again. Don’t be shy, pet. Come here. On your knees. There we go, that’s a good boy.
The Ladies looked at Her (and him) with new eyes … and started laughing. And jeering. It was utterly humiliating and he looked helpless and lost. But his Mistress was right (as always), there was nothing he wouldn’t do for Her. Furthermore, She was the boss and She could do with him as She pleased. It was, in other words, a perfect marriage.
She took off one of Her high-heeled shoes and pressed it against his face.
Hold it in place, She commanded.
The delicious aroma of Her shoe made him dizzy. Waves of delight overtook him and he moaned loudly. The Ladies shrieked and laughed. Their voices stumbled over each other. When did it start? And how? Had She trained him? Did She punish him? REALLY? How?
He could only listen to half of it because he was completely absorbed in his own world. And Her shoe. He was a slave, HER slave, and was now ready to shout it from the rooftops.