SirSTRYKER
Posts: 284
Joined: 8/15/2004
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Feet
He worked as a local yard care man. He had a small, well worn pick up truck and went around cutting grass, trimming trees and bushes and such. He’d pulled up to 906 Henry Street. A quaint little two bedroom one story home. It had been well taken care of. His job would be to maintain it, at least that’s what the letter he got said.
As he had been working nearly two hours, cutting and pruning and such out front, a woman with short blonde hair who stood about four foot eleven, with piercing green eyes and ample cleavage, came from the back yard. She had on a pair of cut off jean shorts, a blouse tied at her taught tummy, wearing flip flops.
His eyes surveyed the woman as she approached but they stared far too long at her feet. She’d noticed and sized him up immediately. ‘This will be a snap,’ she thought to herself as she slowly approached him.
“I wonder if you might need a break? Come with Me into the house for a cool drink,” she beckoned.
Wiping the sweat from his brow, he smiled and followed her, shirtless into the house. She lead him into the kitchen where she pointed to a small stool near the corner.
“Do sit there so you don’t soil the furniture will you?” Her question was more of a direction than a question. The tone of her voice was sultry yet held his attention as he took the stool obediently.
The woman poured stretched and reached over her head and pulled out one large crystal goblet. He figured she was really going to treat him as his eyes roamed her lavish body. Then he got a grand view of her well rounded ass as she bent low and opened the cupboard under the sink. There she withdrew a sleeve of small plastic cups. Setting the puny cup next to the goblet, she opened the fridge and poured fresh squeezed orange into both.
As she first stood next to the sink, still with her back to him, she tightened and loosened her ass cheeks, knowing it held her attention. Then just to tease him, she lifted one foot, resting it on her toes to allow the flip flop to show her wrinkled sole. She sipped from the goblet and suddenly turned to face him. She smiled to herself as she again caught his gaze try to avert from her foot.
She picked up the smaller cup and strolled over to his stool and handed it to him.
“Refresh yourself,” she smiled. He lightly touched her soft hand as he accepted his juice.
She took a soft table chair and turned it away from the table so as to face his corner. She already had him under control, at least thus far. He sipped slowly as his eyes tried to remain lower from hers. This too she inwardly smiled at.
“So,” she began, “I have checked your references. Some of those you have done yard work for are Friends of Mine. One in particular, Mrs. Samson. Do you remember doing her bush?” then she blushed and said, “ah, err, I meant bushes?”
A bright rose color overtook his face as he nearly choked on his juice. Of course he remembered Mrs. Samson, and her bush. Not the bush in her large back yard, but the bush between her legs.
Mrs. Samson was a straight forward Mistress who could spot a submissive from a mile away and rarely missed an opportunity to use and abuse one. Since her husband was her slave, Mrs. Samson usually only toyed with a new found plaything only once. It was only once with him, but once was enough to cause the very mention of Her name to flush his face and harden his cock.
Trying to cover his quickly hardening cock by folding his arms over it he lowered his head and answered.
“Yes Ma’am, I remember Mrs. Samson.”
“Of course you do,” She answered with a wicked grin.
“I also suppose you remember her tip for a job well done?”
Again his blush overcame him. He knew immediately that these Two women must indeed be friends if She knew about the tip Mrs. Samson gave him. It wasn’t money, rather the tip of a bull whip on his ass and legs.
As Mrs. Samson had explained to Her Friend, this guy came to do Her lawn. He made the mistake of making a pass at Her and Mrs. Samson invited him into her basement, on the pretence of asking his advice about some house plants She had down there. As he walked down the steps ahead of Her, he turned when he heard the sound of Mrs. Samson locking the basement door.
A not so gentle push on his shoulder nudged him downward. Once in the basement his eyes bulged out of his head at what he saw.
Hanging from ropes tied tightly to his wrists and looped over hooks in the ceiling swung poor Mr. Samson. He was gagged and naked. His severely beaten body was bruised and bloody and marked from head to toe. There was a leather leash attached around his naked balls and the other end of the leash had a pouch dangling near the floor. Inside the pouch was two heavy metal balls adding much weight to those of Mr. Samson.
The gardener freaked and turned attempting to run past Mrs. Samson, only to receive a swift kick in his balls. The pain instantly caused him to pass out. When he finally awoke he found he had been stripped of his clothing. There was a locked spreader bar attached to his ankles. His wrists had been cuffed behind his back and a collar snapped and locked around his neck. Ropes bound his bent elbows as close together as possible then was hooked to a loop in the back of the collar. He was on his knees with his face resting on a sofa. He opened his eyes and before he could realize his peril, the scent of Her perfume filled his nostrils. He turned his aching neck to see the soft shapely hips of Mrs. Samson seated next to him.
“Let this be your first lesson yard boy,” she hissed, “Never EVER fucking think you are worthy of Me. How fucking dare a slug such as yourself even THINK of making a pass at One such as I you little worm! You have seen what I’ve done to that piece of trash of a husband of mine for much less of an offense. He’s been hanging up there for over four hours and shall remain there until I think he’s learned, once again his proper place, as now you shall learn.”
After finishing her tirade, the sharp blow of a riding crop landed on the gardeners right ass cheek.
“Ouch, damn what the fuck, let Me go bitch,” he screamed.
“Tisk, tisk, tisk, such language for one in your position, you fucking idiot,” she sighed.
Mrs. Samson then stood and dropped the and shoved the bound mans face into the cushion.
“Cuss Me again and you can cancel Christmas fool.” She then reached under him and grabbed his exposed balls and gave them a harsh twist and squeeze.
The muffled yelp of pain brought a smile to her face and she released his pained balls. Even though the pain was intense, as she knew it would, his cock hardened and mashed against the cushions. Mrs. Samson smiled to herself at Her conquest.
“You have been found guilty of a most heinous offense yard boy. I shall impose two penalties upon you. First you shall receive one of your two tips for your yard work.”
With that Mrs. Samson retrieved a bull whip. She laid it out on the floor showing its full length and turned to face her suspended husband. Mr. Samson cringed supposing the whip was once again meant for him. A relaxed expression crossed his face as he saw his Wife/Mistress raise Her arm and flick her wrist and watched the tip of the whip sink into the ass of the other bound man. The gardeners head tried to jerk up as he squealed in anguish and pain at the first blow to his ass. He wiggled his exposed ass in an attempt to escape but no escape was to be found.
With the ease of expertise, again and again the bull whip cracked and landed mere inches from the last blow. Soon his sorry ass was bleeding freely from several spots from the crown of his ass to the backs of his knees. A good thirty strikes had landed on this gardeners body. It was not long until his throat was raw from pleading and begging. Soon the pain simply overtook him and once again he passed out. It was then the whipping stopped.
When he regained consciousness again, the pain in his ass and legs was unbearable. He didn’t even attempt to raise his head. He knew She was still in the basement as her strong perfume was ever present. Then he heard her voice.
“Now then yard boy, are you ready for your second tip?”
He didn’t even consider responding out of fear of tasting more of the whip.
“I’ll take your silence as affirmative then,” she sneered.
Walking over to him, she half dragged and he half crawled over to the still suspended Mr. Samson. The gardeners face was flush with the now rock hard cock of Mr. Samson.
“Open your mouth and receive your second tip yard boy,” Mrs. Samson commanded.
The thought of sucking the cock of another man was a far from this guys appeal as the east is from the west. He hesitated and refused to open his mouth. He acted as if he was about to turn his face away from the awaiting cock before him. It was then he felt the sharp, strong fingernails of Mrs. Samson digging into the bottom of his jaw. She held him fast and began to hiss into his ear.
“You WILL relieve My slave husband of his worthless juice or I shall keep you here, and abuse you until you beg Me to be permitted to do so. Understand this yard boy, I care little for you or your fucking employment, but I have many friends who could use a worm such as yourself, either for such pleasures as I, or simply to do their fucking yards. My name on your reference list will increase your earnings greatly. Or, just one word from Me and you will never cut another blade of grass in this town again… your choice yard boy, suck cock, or find another line of work, in another town.”
Knowing he was beaten the gardener winced and shuddered. He felt her fingers release his pained throat and slowly turned his face back toward the cock pointing ominously before him. Opening his mouth slowly he leaned forward and accepted the dick in his mouth.
Mrs. Samson then stood behind Her husband and placed Her hands on his hips and rocked him back and forth, forcing his aching cock down the throat of the yard boy. Since it had been over a week since She’d allowed Her husband to release himself, it didn’t take long for him to erupt his load into the gardeners mouth. With obedience and complete surrender, the yard boy swallowed the entire load of his first taste of another mans semen.
Mrs. Samson then said,
“Good boy. I shall now release you bitch boy and you may indeed add Me to your reference list. You will never return here for any reason yet I shall give Others a fair report when asked of your abilities.”
Soon enough the gardener found himself released, dressed, quite sore and outside packing his things in the back of his truck.
As all the above concerning his encounter with the Samsons flashed through his head, his Hostess knowingly nodded and smiled.
“Oh yes,” the charming green eyed woman smiled, “Beverly Samson and I share everything. This is the reason you received My letter of employment, yard boy.”
The very name “yard boy” assured him this Woman had indeed heard all of his exploits with the Samsons.
Then the woman softly smiled and said,
“I have no basement, nor husband. I am not as sadistic as Beverly either. I have no bullwhips nor chains yet, I have noticed your attraction towards My feet.”
Again the blush of the man shone brightly. His desires had been noticed and now he freely stared at Her feet. She had crossed her legs and her right foot dangled before him.
“Kneel boy and worship the object of your desires, I know you want to and I enjoy having My feet attended to.”
Immediately the gardener dropped from his stool and crawled toward Her. His face stopped at her foot and his hands cradled her heel as if it were glass. He slipped off her flip flop so gently she barely felt it. Then she jerked Her foot swiftly from his grasp. A pained expression crossed his face as if that of a child who just had a favorite toy taken from him.
She sneered down at the kneeling man beneath her and said,
“You will notice how black from dirt and sweat the foot side of My flip flop is, foot boy. Pick it up and tongue clean it to it’s pristine white color before I allow you the pleasure of serving My foot, you idiot.”
“Yes Ma’am” he softly answered and began his task. He licked and loved the taste of her sweat as he cleaned not just one but both of her flip flops in complete obedient, submissive earnest. Once finished she then said,
“Now My pet you may have your reward.”
She extended her foot toward his face. The quivering man accepted it as a grand gift and began to kiss the top of her soft foot. Then he licked and kissed her heel. Since she had just be out back doing a tad of yard work Herself, there was ample dirt and grit on her feet.
He worked to nip and chew and lick and suck her feet as clean as he had her flip flops.
“Stop!,” She commanded. Again with a look of desperation he ceased is foot worship.
“This then, along with your weekly visits to maintain My yard will be your new duties. Of course the yard work payment will be My permission for you to worship My lovely feet which by now W/we both know you so truly admire and enjoy. Now strip completely, then you may be permitted to continue your new duties foot boy.”
The man lost his shorts and underpants and shoes. His hard cock saluted her. She smiled and settled back in her comfortable kitchen chair and extended her still moist foot to her new foot slave. He began to suck each of her toes individually. His tongue snaked between her toes and he found and gathered each tiny piece of toe jam and sweat She had formed.
She was so relaxed and amused that she openly slipped Her fingers inside her cut offs and freely began to masturbate. Her foot directed where She wished his tongue to pay attention and he followed her non verbal orders completely.
Soon she sighed contentedly and after only a moment began to pleasure Herself again. All the while her new foot boy never lost contact with his tongue on Her feet. He was so happy she approved of his talents. His cock was rock hard.
After she had fully satisfied Her own sexual desires She looked between his spread legs. Seeing his protruding cock she smiled.
“And now, My little foot slave, I want to watch you masturbate for My enjoyment. You have My expression to cum but it must all be deposited upon My feet and toes. Should one drop fall to the floor, this encounter shall never occur again and, of course I shall discourage any Others from your ability to properly maintain yards.”
He needed no such threat. He immediately grabbed his own cock and stroked it. He rubbed the head as his tongue snaked between her lovely toes. His moans of enjoyment, his obedience and compliance, the feel of his tongue worshipping her feet all pleased Her immensely. She watched and so enjoyed the power She held over this one. Enough to not only compel him to abase himself at her feet, but to masturbate so tenderly for her enjoyment. This power she held over him so freely, without the need to get all sweaty by whipping him gave her a great sense of satisfaction and gratification.
He tugged and pulled and groaned and grunted and then aimed his bloated cock head directly above her feet. A large glob of his semen shot and splashed from her toes to her ankles. She almost squealed in delight Herself as the warm liquid hit her feet.
When the last few drops fell from his slave cock, he used Her spread toes smear his juices all over the tops and bottoms of her feet, with a contented sigh.
“Now My pet, massage your slave sperm into My feet gently,” she whispered.
His hands began to sooth his sperm all over her feet leaving a semi sticky mess which smeared and shone on her.
“Oh My,” she smiled, “it appears once again My feet have become soiled.” Then with the voice of One in total control she ordered, “Lick that male slut juice from My feet boy and be quick about it.”
Again his tongue danced and lavished a constellation of pleasures on her delicate feet. Again Her fingers found her love nest. Again, as he licked and swallowed his first taste of his own seed, she pleasured Herself. And again, the very next week, after finishing his yard duties, he was summoned back to the kitchen by his new Mistress for… refreshments.
The end.
_____________________________
B.O.H.I.C.A. (bend over here it comes again.)
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More than a gardener by SIR STRYKER - 
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