This is the second part of an erotic fiction, the Foot Stool.
As the night wore on the stool shuddered and the strange noises became more constant and desperate sounding. It was odd. Someone would tip for a music suggestion, and as the “ting” sounded through the air the cushion would rock and shake. Mistress played some Kraftwerk and the cushion would writhe and sway the whole time the song was playing. She could hear heavy breathing from somewhere and whimpers.
Mistress rather liked her new stool, it was much better than putting her feet up on the desk. Much more comfortable, even if it wouldn’t stay completely still. In fact.. the stool seemed to move rather a lot.
Mistress eyed the dials on the little black box on her desk: microphone sensitivity and output level. Curiously she tried adjusting the microphone level. Turning it up to 75% she found the stool wouldn’t stop moving. It was like every little sound in the room made it want to dance. Turning it to 100% she experimented with tapping her fingers on her desk. The stool writhed. Satisfied with her understanding, she turned it back down to 50%.
Idly playing with the output level she discovered at 75% her voice would make the stool buck under her feet. The room was slow for the moment so she experimented with these two knobs and the combinations of them.
Beneath her feet the slave was rasping in it’s bonds.
The wicked intruder filling it’s inside had gotten a new mind of it’s own. It was experimentally probing the slave, exploring. It varied from a constant wave of forced contractions to violent, painful blasts that felt like the intruder was ramming itself inward, with added friction from the muscles tensing. Each contraction was cloaked in a rolling zap, before and after, interspersed with deep, thudding shocks.
The slave was becoming drenched in sweat and breathing hard. It’s body had begun to ache and it’s mind spiraled in suspense: never knowing what was coming next or when this will end. The slave had no idea how much time had passed. It felt helpless, pathetic.
Feeling dehydrated, the slave pushed the button for water.
Mistress was chatting in a private message when she had an idea: she put the mic close to her keyboard and turned the mic sensitivity up. She grinned in satisfaction as every keystroke seemed to jolt the stool beneath her feet.
A blue light flashed on her desk. Upon seeing it she glanced over at the funnel she’d placed just off cams. Mistress knew her slave was beneath her feet, totally objectified, and completely at her mercy. It could die of thirst or be feed vile things at her whim. She could torment it by simply speaking or tapping her nails on the desk, and there was nothing it could do but suffer for her. She reached down her pants and gently felt her own wetness.
Rising from her chair Mistress tramped across the room towards the cabinet. The sound of her every foot step shocking and violating her slave. From the cabinet she pulled a bottle of spring water, pulled the cap off, and went over to the funnel. Gently and with great care she poured small drinks of water into the funnel, and it ran down the tube to the slave’s mouth.
She reached over to the audio switch connecting the noise canceling headphones to the loop track in the slave’s ears. Flicking the switch the audio switched over to her mic.
Suddenly the slave could feel the weight…
lift from it’s back followed by the vibration and thud of Mistress tramping across the floor. It’s mind drifts to a song lyric “if you can hear a piano fall, you can hear me coming down the hall”, accompanied by tensing and shocking with every step.
A sip of cool, refreshing water enters the slave’s mouth. Little by little, Mistress is letting it drink. Slave knows many would just dump the water in or something. Mistress isn’t like that. She takes care of her toys and cherishes them.
In a split second the looping audio cuts out and the slave can hear music. It can hear it’s Mistress walking again. It hear’s her sigh and cheerily announce “Alright, I’m back!”, the very words violating it’s ass. It feels some weight on it’s back again, and a small breeze or pressure change in the air near it’s face. It can feel Mistress lovingly brushing her toes against it’s face.
The slave listens, helplessly as Mistress entertains her room. As the night continues the slave listens in despair as Mistress engages in lurid jois with those in her room. It’s so degrading to listen to the conversations in this state, where every word spoken or tip given twists and burns the slave’s insides.
Someone asks for something Mistress doesn’t want slave to hear, and the audio switches back over to the loop track. Whatever happens during this time the slave doesn’t know. It feels Mistress rise from her chair, followed by several very thuddy shocks in quick succession. Then it feels the vibration of foot steps, with a constant background shock lingering, jittering. Followed by 10 more definitive thuds. Slave imagines Mistress just spanked herself, danced for a bit, and then spanked some more.
Shortly after slave feels Mistress prop her feet on it’s back. The audio switches back over to the mic, but just as it does the volume dies to barely audible.
Mistress plops down in her chair with her hitachi, throwing her legs up onto the stool. She flicks the audio over so slave can hear, but then with a sadistic grin turns it down to just barely audible for the slave.
Turning the Abox microphone sensitivity up and the output down a little, Mistress turns the hitachi on. The stool begins to writhe rhythmically as she plays guitar against her sweet sex with the hitachi.
Rhythmic contractions rock the slave’s ass, not as painful as before, but constant. The headphones carry a faint buzzing sound and moans. Slave imagines what Mistress must look like. Visions of the Goddess pleasuring herself like a rockstar just feet away. A deep yearning and frustration awakens in the slave, aching for pleasure long since denied.
Someone tips for a dildo and Mistress wonders…
She selects the suction cup dildo and mounts it to the back of the stool, smiling to herself. She diddles herself briefly, collecting the wetness between her legs. Bending down, she reaches beneath the shroud and rubs it beneath her slave’s nose.
Mistress reaches over and turns the abox output up and then straddles the stool, plunging the dildo inside her. She turns the hitachi back on. To her delight the stool bucks hard and rhythmically beneath her, fucking her as she diddles herself.
The slave bucks and moves beneath her in time with the vibrator, with harder thrusts coming with each gasp or moan that escapes her lips. The music adds variety to it. She smiles to herself: the slave has become like a puppet. She basks in her power and pleasure as she reaches an earth shattering climax.
Glowing and high on endorphins Mistress slowly raising herself from the dildo and reclines back in her chair. Leaning forward she removes the dildo and sets it aside before slipping her foot beneath the shroud again to tenderly caress the slave’s face with her toes.
“Alright, well I’d better come off now” she announces in her channel as she switches her cams off. She reaches over and turns off the Abox. Sitting back and pondering for a moment, she thinks about this new found power and trust her slave has placed in her.
Gently she reaches down and removes the shroud from the stool, exposing the slave beneath. The slave is drenched in sweat and breathing hard. Mistress reaches down to remove the headphones and gently pets the back of her slave’s head. “Thank you slave, I enjoyed that”
Slave whimpers something that sounds affirmative and Mistress smiles.