Humiliated at My Feet

Nov 1, 2002
Humiliated at My Feet

By Mistress Sadie

Male slaves often wish to be “forced” to perform specific acts by a dominant woman for the purpose of experiencing humiliation. The concept of humiliation means something different to each individual. What one slave considers humiliating may be thought of as being a privilege to another. To some, humiliation may mean simply kneeling to kiss a woman’s feet. To others, being required to lick his own cum from a woman’s boot may qualify as humiliation. Each individual has their unique cravings and limitations. In all cases, humiliation tests those limitations.

Humiliation is simply a psychological form of S&M. Some people need a certain amount of adrenaline to spark their arousal. Adrenaline can certainly be generated by the dark thrill of humiliation. This is true at both ends of the continuum, for both the recipient and transgressor of the humiliating act. If a man wishes to be intensely humiliated, what could be more degrading than being required to lick dirt from a beloved woman’s shoes as she laughs in his face? And what could be more empowering to the woman?

When a slave is trained to the point that he will shine a woman’s shoes or boots with his tongue, he has reached the pinnacle of foot servitude. I will not settle for my slave merely cleaning the uppers of my shoes, he must clean the soles, too. My control of him is consensual, mind you. It’s not that he enjoys the taste of dirt, but rather he relishes the symbolism of being so submissively at the feet of a woman he reveres as a Goddess. The dirt and crud on the soles of my sacred shoes is special. The dirt itself takes on the status of a delicacy because my divine feet have tread upon it.

When I plan on having my shoes serviced by my slave, I always take care to walk through mud and tread through dirt beforehand. I’ll step on a sticky wad of chewed gum, crush insects, or tread on whatever presents itself. I always tell my slave exactly where I have been and what I stepped on. This way, he can fully appreciate the magnitude of his degrading task. Having my slave clean it off with his tongue is a perfect lesson in humility for him and a power trip for me.

My slave is always eager and ready to burrow his nose deep into my shoes and clean out the sweaty insides with his tongue. A pair of feet contains some 120,000 sweat glands that secrete half a pint of perspiration each day. Feet are rich in pheromones, a chemical substance responsible for subconsciously triggering sexual arousal in members of the opposite sex. The insides of my shoes are permeated with my concentrated scent, which is an aphrodisiac to my slave.

Although fetishists usually have an individual preference for certain styles and colors of footwear, most are partial to high heels. And my slave is no exception. He is especially fond of my high-heeled sandals and mules because their design includes the high heel and reveals my feet. On command, however, he will also use his tongue to clean my boots, pumps, sneakers, clogs, loafers, or flip flops. He loves all my shoes because they are mine.

I have always been intrigued by the phallic symbolism of the high heel. The visual effect of a man taking the heel of my shoe into his mouth and sucking it never ceases to amuse me. I always make a point of ordering my slave to give my heel a blowjob. His face invariably turns crimson with a mixture of embarrassment and excitement. Men are so homophobic.

On the days that he shines my shoes, I usually deny my slave the pleasure of
worshiping my bare feet. The intimacy of licking my feet is his primary interest, of course. Licking my shoes is impersonal, but makes him even more submissive to me. Having my slave shine my shoes with his tongue, bringing him to arousal, and then denying him my feet and sexual release gives me a feeling of empowerment. His feelings are humiliation and submission.

Each time I succeed in humiliating my slave, my body seems to fill with adrenaline, and fucking is the only outlet for it. That is when I send my slave home and invite my boyfriend over.


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Aug 25, 2002
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Another Sadie story

Subdued by Mistress Sadie
Submitted on 07/19/07

by foot slave zerO

(This is a fantasy story devoted to Mistress Sadie)

Just a few months ago, I was at a strip club and
became immediately infatuated with Sadie, a
twenty-five year-old dancer. Sadie is a goddess with a
stunning 38DDD-25-36 figure. What really caught my
attention, though, were Sadie's gorgeous size-7 feet
and her wonderful taste in footwear.

One night, aided by a few drinks, I mustered the
courage to compliment Sadie on her beautiful feet
while she was on stage. She responded with a knowing
smile and placed her high heeled foot on the railing
between us so I could have a closer look. Her feet
were clad in strappy, black high-heeled sandals, with
5" stiletto heels. Her perfect toes were painted
bright red and looked absolutely delicious. My penis
immediately stiffened with excitement and I generously
placed a $20 tip on the railing. When Sadie slipped
off her shoe and took the bill by grasping it with her
lithe toes, I nearly came in my pants!

In the weeks that followed, I became a regular at the
bar. Every Friday and Saturday night I would go to
watch Sadie dance. She would always tantalize me with
her beautiful feet and I would tip her liberally. I
would then go home and masturbate to fantasies of
being her foot slave. I dreamed of sucking her lovely,
flawlessly pedicured toes and running my tongue over
her soft, wrinkled soles.

I was encouraged by her favorable reaction to my foot
fetish. One night, I slipped Sadie a note telling her
that she had the most beautiful feet I had ever seen,
and that I would do absolutely anything to become her
personal foot slave. I promised Sadie my complete
submission and included my telephone number. A few
days later this sexy dancer called me. Sadie told me
that she had a boyfriend, but could use a "flunky" to
clean her apartment and run errands for her. If I
proved myself to be worthy, Sadie explained, she would
consider allowing me to become her new "foot licker."

"Show up at my apartment tomorrow morning at 11
o'clock," she told me, "and we'll see how things work

The next morning I was punctually at Sadie's home,
eager to obey. She answered the door wearing a pair of
denim cut-offs, a gingham halter top, and was
barefoot. Sadie's toenails were immaculately
pedicured, as usual, and were painted a bright pink.
Her dark tresses were tied back in a pony tail. She
was not wearing makeup and had a wholesome sex appeal
that I had not seen in the strip club. Sadie wasted no
time putting me to work.
"From now on, you will address me as Mistress Sadie,"
she said, "and I want you on your knees right here and
now. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, Mistress Sadie," I answered as I got down on my
knees on the carpet before her.

"Well, get busy," Mistress Sadie told me with a smug
grin. "The dishes are in the sink, the vacuum is in
the closet, and the cleaning stuff is above the washer
and dryer."

She then went to the living room, grabbed the remote
control, and turned on the television.

I worked hard for the next five hours, doing a large
pile of dishes, vacuuming every room, taking out the
trash, washing windows, making her bed, scrubbing
floors, cleaning the tub and toilet, making Sadie
lunch, and even going grocery shopping for her.
Mistress Sadie's day was spent leisurely watching
television, chatting on the phone, and sunbathing on
her deck.

A stunning goddess like Mistress Sadie is much too
good for menial tasks like housework. I considered it
a privilege to pick up after this lovely dancer and
have the opportunity to sniff her dirty stockings.
When I lifted the lid to clean her toilet, I found it
used and not flushed. Also, I discovered three used
condoms--the extra large size-- wrapped in tissues and
laying on her nightstand.

When I was finished with the housework, she inspected
my work and seemed pleased with the quality. Mistress
Sadie then ordered me to kneel before her as she
relaxed in her easy chair. I obeyed with alacrity.

"I have one more little cleaning job for you,"
Mistress Sadie said, presenting me with the pair of
her high heeled shoes of which I was so fond. "You can
lick these clean."

My jaw dropped in astonishment at Mistress Sadie's
display of audacity. I had been hoping to worship her
feet rather than just her shoes. Sadie was amused by
my initial hesitation and laughed in my face.

"You said you would do anything to become my foot
licker" she said. "If you really meant it, well, my
shoes need cleaning, and you could lick the dirt off
them.for me."

It was those last two words that convinced me; she was
testing my sincerity and obedience. I would have to
forego whatever dignity I still had to earn the
privilege of worshiping Sadie's dazzling feet.

I lifted a shoe to my face and began to scour it with
my tongue. I began by licking the vamp of her shoe,
tonguing the black leather to a bright, gleaming
luster. The insole of her shoe was well worn, with
dark, indented toe prints, and had a powerful aroma.
Pressing my nose against them, I took a long deep
breath of the wonderful fragrance of leather and foot
perspiration. I relished the scent and brackish flavor
as I worked my tongue over the insole. I ran my
tongue over the outsoles, and then took the stiletto
heel into my mouth, moving my lips up and down its
length, and sucking it thoroughly clean.

"Be sure to get the soles really good," she smirked.
"I think I stepped in some dog shit the other day."
I applied my tongue to the sole of Mistress Sadie's
shoe, lapping up and swallowing the gritty, bitter
filth. With these shoes she had strolled over the
sticky barroom floor, walked in the untidy public
restroom, and had danced nude before scores of men. It
was so nasty and degrading, but I took a humble
pleasure in being so thoroughly at her command.
After I had licked each of her shoes spotlessly clean,
both inside and out, Mistress Sadie casually asked how
much money I had. When I naively took out my wallet to
check, she demanded that I hand over all my cash--
about $50. Before sending me home, Mistress Sadie even
has the impudence to insist that I thank her for
taking all my money.

I felt like a fool and was embarrassed to be taken
advantage of, but knew I must endure this exploitation
if I wanted to become a foot slave to this sexy

The next time Mistress Sadie had me clean her house, I
made the mistake of having only $35 in my wallet. She
angrily slapped by face, leaving a red, stinging
handprint on my cheek, and then told me to get lost.
Fearful that I had lost the opportunity to become her
foot slave, I telephoned Sadie the next day to
apologize and promised to always have at least $50 for
her in the future.

"Make it a hundred," she told me coldly, "or I'll find
another stupid fucker to clean my place and worship my
feet. Do we understand each other?"

Needless to say, Mistress Sadie happily took five $20
bills from me the next time we saw one another. This
time, when I finished cleaning her apartment, Mistress
Sadie allowed me to kiss each of her feet just once
apiece. I humbly thanked her as before and was again
thrown out like a piece of trash.

This went on for the next several weeks. Every
Saturday, I would thoroughly clean Mistress Sadie's
house for five or six hours and give her $100. Then
she would either let me kiss her feet for a few
precious seconds or have me polish a pair of her shoes
with my tongue before pushing me out the door. The
feeling of being blatantly used and humiliated was
becoming intolerable, but I was totally obsessed with
the thoughts of becoming Mistress Sadie's foot slave
and was willing to endure any indignity to earn that

After eight weeks of this, Mistress Sadie telephoned
me at 3 o'clock one morning. She had just gotten home
from work and ordered me to come over immediately
because her feet were tired and needed attention.
Rubbing the steep out of my eyes, I hurriedly dressed
and drove over to Mistress Sadie's house. Mistress
Sadie told me that I had been going a great job as her
"flunky" and said that tonight, if I agreed to co-sign
for her credit card and assume responsibility for the
payments, I would be allowed to become her "foot
licker." Mistress Sadie had danced that night in black
knee-high boots with stiletto heels. I knew that her
feet would be fragrant and delicious. Overcome with
lust for Mistress Sadie's beautiful feet, I
immediately fell to my knees and signed the papers on
her coffee table.

Obviously pleased, Mistress Sadie sat down in her easy
chair and ordered me to prepare a Margarita for her. I
responded quickly and, as always, served it to her on
my knees. Mistress Sadie then told me to remove her
boots. With trembling hands, I lowered the zippers on
her boots. Placing one hand on her heel and the other
around the instep, I eagerly pulled the boots from her
feet. She had me remove her socks, too.

"Here's your big chance!" Mistress Sadie laughed as
she wiggled her bare, crimson-painted toes in my face.
"Go ahead and lick my sweaty feet, stupid!"

Mistress Sadie's feet were moist with perspiration and
had a racy aroma. She beamed down at me, amused by my
enthusiasm in lapping the sweat and moist sock lint
from between her toes. I ardently sucked each of her
tasty digits. When Mistress Sadie thrust the soles of
her feet into my face, I passionately licked them from
heel to toe. Sadie leisurely sipped her drink as I
bathed and massaged her hot, tired, dirty, sweaty feet
with my tongue. From her closed eyes and sighs of
rapture, I knew that Sadie was taking great pleasure
in my servitude.

"From now on," Mistress Sadie told me after an hour of
foot worship, "you will be providing me with this
service whenever I say so. I'm finished with you for
tonight, so get your fucking ass out!"

I am now a total "flunky" and "foot licker" to this
beautiful goddess. She has me doing all her housework,
running errands for her, and struggling to pay off her
hefty credit card bills. I am verbally abused,
slapped, and constantly exploited. Whenever Mistress
Sadie has nothing better to do, I am permitted to lick
her fatigued, unwashed feet when she gets home from
work. To add to my humiliation, Mistress Sadie has
told all the other dancers how I serve her. Now, every
time I go to the bar, I am met by derisive laughter.
Mistress Sadie has really taught me what it means to
be used and humbled by a woman.

I consider myself very lucky to be Mistress Sadie's
foot licking flunky.

Mistress Sadie can be contacted at:

Join Her wonderful Yahoo! group at: