A story about being helpless in the clutches of mean women

A story about being helpless in the clutches of mean women

By Ste Letto

Giggling cruelly, Alison slowly circled the chair in which Joseph Waterson sat. The pretty teenage girl reached out her slender left hand and trailed the nails and knuckles across Joseph's unmoving cheek. Only his eyes offered any response, swiveling in their orbits to follow her around the room.
Joseph, 23, was the orphaned son of Marilyn and Anthony Waterson, owners of the Waterson chain of bookshops. Marilyn, Anthony and Joseph were involved in a car accident when Joseph was 18 years old. His parents were killed, but Joseph survived, although he was left paralyzed and slightly brain damaged. On the insistence of his aunt Caroline he had come to live with her, and her daughters Alison and Amanda. Caroline's husband, Mike, had died in suspicious circumstances, so this meant Caroline and her daughters where the only family Joseph had.
It was a condition of Marilyn and Anthony's joint will that Joseph would inherit the family business and all attached monies, on, or after his 21st birthday; providing that he was still alive, of course, and mentally competent. It was on this last point that the poor boy's fate hung.
His aunt, had discovered that if Joseph was declared mentally incompetent, then she would inherit the family fortune. Under the terms of the will, 20 year old Joseph was assessed bi-monthly, by a court appointed psychiatrist. This psychiatrist, one 34 yr old lady by the name of Emma Kingston, had observed a gradual diminution of Joseph's cognitive functions, to a point where he was rapidly becoming borderline mentally competent. However, she also reported that being in the bosom of his family gave him the best chance of recovery, so she would not sanction moving Joseph to a private care institute.
Alison, looking beautiful in a country girl way, smiled down at Joseph. She was tall for her 21 years, with a powerful yet totally feminine figure. She had the well rounded, toned physique of a swimmer or decathlete. She carried herself with a proud, even haughty baring that turned men's heads. She had an arrogant self assurance that meant she could take her pick of men whenever she chose. She had long black hair, which she left to cascade about her face, neck and shoulders. She wore a gingham, short sleeved blouson, unbuttoned to show the tops of her unsupported breasts, tied underneath to show her washboard abdomen. She wore faded and ragged hemmed jeans shorts, of a style favoured by Daisy Duke, and she wore brown, patterned, cowboy boots with worn down heels and smooth soles
The confident beauty slapped Joseph's face lightly with the palm of her right hand, saying "Ooops, I sure didn't mean to hurt you none Joey," before laughing. Joseph was incapable of speech, and incapable of moving more than a fraction. His chair even preventing him from doing that. The chair in which he sat was his life support and his prison. His head was held stationary by a padded ring that was fastened around his forehead. Although this could turn his head left and right if necessary to exercise his neck muscles. This could be done manually, or on a programmable timescale.
A broad strap across his chest held him pinned in his seat. Two padded restraints were wrapped about his knees and two more about his ankles. His arms were restrained by straps around his elbows and wrists.
Alison stepped behind Joseph's chair and lifted her right foot up. She brought the shiny sole down on a pedal, worn shiny by years of use, and pressed down. The pedal activated the chair's hydraulics. Joseph was slowly, smoothly repositioned from a seated posture to a lying down position. Alison grinned to see him laying flat. She moved her foot to another pedal, and used it to raise Joseph's feet and lower his head, until the back of his head rest bumped the carpetted floor.
She put her hands on her hips and stared down, smiling wryly and shaking her head. "Excuse me a moment, would'ja Jo?" she asked coyly. Joseph could only lay there as she moved out of sight for a moment. It was less than a minute later when she returned with a chair. She popped the chair down so Joseph's head was right where a footrest might be. She sat in the chair, and crossed her legs, sighing loudly. "Why it sure is hot," she began, "hoooeee, is it ever. Yes indeedy!" She giggled. "My feet are sweating up a storm in these old boots." She extended her shapely legs out over Joseph's face and waggled her boots. "I think I'll just slip them off," she paused, "that is, if you don't mind!" Joseph could not answer her. "I'll take that as OK then" the torment said.
As Joseph stared up, helpless, Alison bent her left leg round, grasped the heel area of her boot and began to waggle and wiggle and work it free. Slowly her slick foot inched free of the furnace of a boot. Finally it came away and Alison gave it a test sniff. "Lord almighty," she proclaimed, "that is a bad one." This last was said with no little intensity. She looked about for somewhere to drop the boot, then casually tossed it away. The boot flew through the air a little way, before coming down, heel first, on Joseph's groin. It impacted the tender area with a firm thud then fell to one side. "Oooohhh, sorry Joseph," said the laughing girl, hand over red painted lips in mock shock.
With no subtlety or pause she planted her wet sole on Joseph's upturned face with a thud, and crossed her right leg over. As she laboured to remove her right boot, Alison felt her bare left foot sliding about on Joseph's face, riding on a film of grease, sweat and slick dirt. "Don't mind my foot," she told him, "I've been out in the hot sun for a while." She waggled and worked at her right boot until that one too gave up its loving grip. She dropped that one on Joseph's chest, paining his ribs, before planting her right foot next to the left.
Now Joseph had two wet, hot, red, crinkly and highly acidic smelling feet on his face. Joseph was physically small, and Alison was physically big. Her feet covered his face completely, and her heels and toes hung over very slightly. He was swamped by her big, hot feet. They shuffled and slid about as the young beauty sighed. She ooohed and aaaahhed to show how nice it was soothing her feet on her obliging human footrest.
"Now Joseph," she said softly, "I'd be real grateful if you would lick my little old feet for me.Would ya, would ya do that?" Joseph knew from experience that he had to do this. In the past she had trampled him, stamping on his wasted legs and arms, his groin, his stomach and his chest until he did as she wished. The first time she had finally pinched his nose painfully shut with her toes until he surrendered.
The brain damaged boy put out his tongue and pushed it straight up, as he had learned to do. Alison smiled, "Thankyou Joseph, that's very gentlemanly of you," she announced. With that she moved her left foot off his face, and began dragging the crud laden sole of her right over his upraised tonguetip. The taste was appalling. He was tasting old and new sweat. He was tasting the traces of her battered, tattered, filth ridden and crumbling insole. He was tasting, and swallowing, bits of sock lint, from the socks she wore in bed night after night after night. He swallowed bits of dead skin, and toejam when she spread her toes and nimbly pressed them in and around his tongue. "Refresh" she would say occassionally, meaning he should pull his tongue in, swallow what was on it, rewet it with saliva, then stick it out again.
This went on and on. Soon her right foot was replaced by the left and the whole process began again. Her left had a little extra something. It had a thin layer of dust from the floor where it had just rested. Alison pressed her foot down hard, bending his tongue over. His tongue seemed to dry out more and more quickly until she was regularly rasping her sole against dry flesh, despite repeated commands to "Refresh."
When she was satisfied with this, Alison stood, walked over to her right boot, and picked it up. She collected the left, then returned to stand over Joseph's head. She pushed the chair out the way a little and squatted onto Joseph's face. Her tightly stretched denim shorts hurt his face. She wiggled to get comfy, trapping his nose against her sweaty asscrack and covering his mouth below her cunt. Joseph couldn't breathe. Calmly, coolly, casually, she slid her left foot back into its boot. Wiggling around, rocking from side to side, she slid her right foot into its boot too. Alarms sounded, monitors that read Joseph's blood gases, his respiration, his heart rate, all complained, Alison stayed in her seat until she was sure he had slipped into unconsciousness then stood. "There," she said sweetly, "a few more brain cells gone. Soon you'll be a total vegetable, and we'll be rich." She used the pedals on the chair to reposition him sitting, walked to the door, turned back and blew Joseph a kiss. "See ya handsome," she said, and her peels of laughter filled the house.

Chapter 2

Several days later, Amanda came home from University for the weekend. The sassy, arrogant, self-assured 18 yr old loved to have a helpless plaything to tease, torment and ultimately destroy. Whenever she came home from University she brought lots of new ideas for making Joseph suffer. This time was no exception.
It was 7.30 on Friday evening when Amanda's battered old Honda pulled into the driveway. Smiling broadly, petite, blonde, blue eyed Amanda turned off the engine and ratcheted up the handbrake. She looked sexy in a playful, little girl way. She had put her hair up in bunches, she wore her black round lensed spectacles. She wore a pink t-shirt top with white edging at the neck and on the sleeves, with a picture of a fairy on the front; she wore a pleated white mini skirt, and black knee high boots, with 3 inch block heels. She had worn the boots without socks for some time every day for the last 3 weeks. Infact, she had worn them like that for the last 3 hours as she drove from University. Despite the warmth of the day she had had the car's heater on, blowing hot air on her feet. She was amazed how wet they felt.
As she twisted round in her seat and placed her feet on the gravel floor, she was amused to feel her insoles squishing beneath her wet soles. She was also reminded of the special liner she was wearing in her panties.
Singing gaily, Amanda opened the trunk of her car and collected her bags. With one slung over her shoulder, and one in each hand the playful girl marched up to the front door. She smiled, and pressed the doorbell with the tip of her nose. As she waited for the door to open, she felt a rumble in her stomach, knowing what was coming she sighed with relief as a wet fart came from her. She wiggled her hips as it came.
Suddenly the door opened. Amanda smiled up at her mother. Caroline smiled back, then hugged her daughter tight, before taking the bags from her hands and ushering her inside. After a brief chat, Amanda said "I'd like to say hi to Joseph if that's okay."
Her mother laughed, Amanda was always in a hurry to see Joseph. Caroline smiled, imagining the torments her headstrong and wonderfully inventive daughter had in store. "Go on up" she said, and laughed to see Amanda's beaming smile.
Amanda fairly raced up the stairs. As she neared the top she shouted out "Hi there Joey, guess who?" She ran into his bedroom and stopped, hands on hips, to stare at him. She loved to just take in the difference in their positions. There she was, 18, athletic, able to go out when she wanted, buy things, go to University, live basically; and there was Joseph, trapped, helpless, powerless, vegetating, doomed. She laughed. "Poor old Joey," she said out loud, as she walked over to his side.
She stood looking down at him, then reached out her slender right hand to pinch his nostrils shut. When he opened his mouth to breathe she spat a glob of phlegm into his mouth, laughing to see his eyes react. "Don'tcha like that Jo?" she asked in mock sympathy. "I made it special." She couldn't help giggling. "That's not all I've got specially for you." She stepped away. "How 'bout I make you a sandwich? Huh Joe, ya like?" Joe was helpless to do anything else but watch. "I'll be back in a jiffy," she told him, "don't go away!" This last was followed by mean laughter.
Across the hall from Joey's bedroom was a second kitchen. Since he lived up there, it was more convenient than running up and down stairs. Amanda fetched a plate, and placed it on the table. Then she sat on a kitchen chair, and crossed her right leg. With a sly smile she slipped off her right boot to reveal a sweat soaked foot, with a piece of stale bread stuck to it. This bread had been in her boot for 5 hours, it was wet, soggy, stinky and virtually black. It had bits of dead skin and sock lint in it, and it stank of her foot sweat. Amanda could barely stand the smell. She carefully took the bread from her foot and placed it on the plate. Smiling, she put her boot back on, and repeated the action with her left foot. Her left was even sweatier than her right and she had tow work very carefully not to tear the bread. She could clearly see the sahpe of her foot and toes in the revolting morsel. She put that boot on as well.
Now she had two blackened pieces of sweat and foot gunk impregnated bread on a plate. She smiled. Reaching up under her skirt she tugged down her hot wet panties. There, in the crotch, and up where her butt cheeks had been only moments before, was a large piece of beef. She shook her head, amazed at her own devious cruelty. "I'm a sick bitch!" she thought, laughing gleefully. She peeled the beef from the crotch and rear of her panties and slapped it down on the bread. She couldn't begin to imagine the mingled scents, fluids and flavours that must have accumulated on the piece of meat during the hot and sweaty journey home. She was aware that sweat had been trickling down her back, in between her cheeks all the way.
She carefully folded the meat, then put the other piece of bread on top. Then she took a knife and sliced the sandwich in half. That done, she marched back in to Joseph. where he waited helpless and scared. She paraded in front of him, showing him the disgusting sandwich she had made. "Are you gonna eat it now?" she asked, sounding so, so sweet. Joseph closed his eyes. Amanda feined upset, "What's wrong, don't you want the nice sandwich I made you?" He closed his eyes again.
Amanda stamped her foot. "Joseph Waterson you are a very rude boy! Really, fancy refusing this nice sandwich, after I took so much time preparing it especially for you." She walked over to him and smacked him hard across the cheek, leaving bright red finger marks. "You are going to eat this sandwich," and at this she wafted it in front of his face, whether you like it or not!!"
She fetched a high chair, positioned it at the side of Joseph's head, and sat down, crossing her slender legs and bobbing her right booted foot in mid-air. She smiled down at Joseph, then reached out her left hand to pinch his nose again. With the sandwich in her right hand she waited, poised. It didn't take long before Joseph's mouth opened. With a triumphal "Ha" Amanda inserted a corner of the sandwich in Joseph's mouth. He refused to bit, so she simply kept hold of his nose, and fed more and more of the disgusting food in. Soon it was all in, and Joseph's cheeks were bulging.
With Amanda's pretty fingers stil holding his nostrils closed, he could either suffocate, or chew and swallow. He knew he didn't dare spit it out. Amanda was capable of making him suffer in all sorts of ways if he annoyed her. Joseph bit into the revolting meal. The bread tasted of sweat, rancid, acidic sweat. The beef filling tasted worse. It was bitter, acrid and revolting. He had to fight desperately not to puke. Amanda watched his suffering with a little smile of self satisfied amusement. She kept hold of his nose the whole time. "That's a good boy," she cooed, as if he were her baby. "Yess, you're a very good boy. I'm sure we'll think of a reward when you've eat it all up." His jaws made small movements as he chewed and swallowed, dragging in air whenever he could. Soon he had eaten the first sandwich.
Smiling, Amanda patted him on the forehead. "Good boy! I knew you were hungry." She said giggling. "Here's the rest." With that she presented the second half. She didn't need to hold his nose this time. Joseph took a bite, ignoring the taste, texture and smell. He focussed on her eyes, which he thought were the most beautiful eyes he had ever seen. Despite her cruelty he found her stunningly atractive. She presented more and more of the sandwich, before soon he was swallowing the last morsel. "Hmmm," she said smiling, "I bet you're thirsty now!" Joseph gave a quick blink.
Amanda hopped down from her chair. Joseph heard her rummaging in the kitchen. She came back a minute later with a few things. She sat above him, and showed him a funnel, a clothes peg and a bottle of cod liver oil. Joseph screamed internally. Amanda smiled. She opened the teeth of the peg and clamped it over his nose. With his mouth open it was easy to slip the funnel in, leting her pour whatever she chose to right down his throat. She smiled, leaned over and spat into the funnel, then she slowly unscrewed the lid on the oil. "Here you go," she said smiling. Her little hand extended with the bottle tilted back. When the neck was over the funnel she tipped it over and smiled to hear the oil glug glug into the plastic funnel.
She sat comfortable and calm as the fouls tasting, thick fluid ran down into Joseph's mouth and on into his stomach. Glug - glug - glug. He was nearly drowning, she was relaxed and happy. He was disgusted, she was joyful. He was paralysed. She was free. She laughed to hear him coughing and spluttering, then bent her wrist to slow the speed of pour. "Don't gutz," she chided him.
Finally the bottle was empty and Joseph was feeling hideously nauseous. "Wow," she said, "you were a thirsty boy." She stood up, took the peg from his nose, slipped the funnel from his mouth and picked up the empty bottle. She popped the bottle in the bin, and put the peg back in the drawer, before rinsing the funnel and putting it back in the cupboard.

She sauntered back into the room where Joseph lay, helpless and prone. She pressed a pedal on the side of the chair, and watched as the hydraulics lowered Joseph toward the carpeted floor. Still flat, parallel with the floor, his descent stopped when he was three feet off the ground. Amanda smiled cheekily, then stepped up on the side of his chair. She stood at hip level, gazing down with wide eyes. "You're so small," she commented. "You're a little runt!" She laughed cruelly. "I can walk all over you and you can't do a thing about it." She lifted her left boot, then planted the sole on his right knee. She pressed the ridged sole down, forcing his knee down. Letting her full weight rest on the toe of her boot she brought her right foot up and over, seeing Joseph wince. The toe of her right boot thumped into his left thigh.
Carefully shifting her balance, she grinned to feel his left thigh bending beneath her foot. Ever since the accident there had been something strange about his skeleton. It had become almost plastic. She let her full weight come down, and the bone bowed under her. Joseph's pain wracked grimace showed her this was hurting him. She put both feet side by side on the abused limb, and enjoyed herself bouncing up and down.
She stepped off after two minutes, turned about, and stepped onto his abdomen. The poor boys distended stomach was painfully, and nauseatingly compressed beneath her block heel. Amanda pressed her weight down, letting her foot sink in deeper and deeper. Again she brought her other foot alongside. Now his flesh was surging up around the sides of her booted feet. His face had gone bright red and several alarms were sounding. Amanda yelped with joy.
She jumped up and down, bouncing on her toes, before stepping onto Joseph's chest. Like his thigh bone, these bones had become strangely elastic. They bent inward alarmingly. Amanda stood on his paining chest a few moments, before stepping onto his head. Her block heel stamped itself firmly against his jaw, the toe pressed into his forehead. Her ridged tread cut into his thin skin, and she left the marks of her sole behind. Soon she had two feet on his slowly subsiding skull. The pain was overwhelming and Joseph passed out.
He awoke to find Amanda sitting on his legs, banging her bootheels into his chest, boom - boom - boom. When his eyes opened she quickly removed first the left boot, and then the right. Her slick feet came down to clamp onto his helpless face. The smell was rancid and sickening. It smelt like something had gone bad in the fridge. Her slick, sticky, wrinkly, wet foot bottoms slid back and forth on his face with hideous intensity and purpose. She pushed her toes into his nostrils, forcing him to smell them. She gripped his nostrils painfully tight, so she could ram her toes into his mouth. She rubbed her heels in his eyes, stinging them with salt sweat. She slapped his face with her soles, again and again and again.
Finally she grew tired. "I do feel stiff," she announced as she slipped from the chair. "I might do a little exercise." She slipped off her t-shirt to reveal a sports bra. He could sense she was doing something, but couldn't quite see her cramming her feet into an old pair of stinky and crumbling trainers. She used a button on the side of the chair to turn Joseph around 90 degrees, then used the pedals to raise him slightly.
In the corner of the room there was a piece of exercise equipment that was basically a set of pedals with variable resistance. Bending prettily, Amanda set the dial to 50%. She placed the pedals in front of Joseph so she could use his face as her saddle.
With a slight smile she sat on his upturned head, popped her feet on the pedals and began to exercise. Her bottom covered his eyes, her pelvis punishing the upper side of his nose. Being so close to her sweat soaked panties, ass crack and cunt he couldn't help but smell them. He could even taste them. She tasted rich and cloying. It made him feel sick. On top of the sandwich, the cod liver oil and the pounding her feet had just given him, it was making him feel more wretched than he ever had before.
Amanda's pert bottom swayed from side to side as she pedalled, punishing his eye sockets, and making it feel like his feeble skull might break. She began to sweat. Sweat ran down her spine, into the small of her back, then between her butt cheeks. It trickled onto Joseph's face, some finding its way to his mouth. He drank her fresh sweat, sweat that was tainted with unspeakable tastes. Amanda kept her slender, coltish, athletic legs pumping. Time passed. 10 minutes, 20, then 30. Suddenly Amanda used her hands on the sides of Joseph's head support and her feet on the pedals to boost herself up and back. Her knickered crotch came down on Joseph's nose and mouth. His head disappeared under her pleated skirt. She let her weight surge down, wilfully blocking his airways. She shimmied.
Just as his monitors started to protest she raised a fraction. Joseph dragged in a breath. Amanda plomped down and began pedalling again. Again he couldn't breathe. Amanda waited, waited, then lifted again. She could take him to the brink of unconsciousness then let him breathe again and again. The machines that monitored him, all built into the chair, made it easier to torture him. She took him to the brink of suffocation beneath her perfect bottom 10 times, before finally getting off.
Shaking her wet hair from her face, the blonde looked down into Joseph's eyes. "How sad," she announced, "to be so weak and helpless in the hands of cruel women." She moved to his waist, and reached down. Smiling saucily she ground the palm of her hand into his crotch. "Can you cum?" she asked, "Do you want to cum?" He blinked three times rapidly. Amanda grinned. "I can give pleasure as well as suffering."
She unfastened his pants and drew out his semi-erect penis. "Let's see!" She began fondling his testicles, giving them light touches and strokes. His penis lurched to a hard, needy stand. She continued touching his balls. She leaned over him and licked his balls, making a "Hmmmm" noise. Joseph's heartbeat raced, as well as his respiration. Amanda knew she was starving his brain of oxygen by keeping him aroused. Short term wasn't a problem, but she had long term plans.
She lightly stroked the side of his penis with a finger tip, once, twice, three times. If Joseph could have groaned he would. She gripped his cock and squeezed it like an iron bar. His heart lurched. She thumbed the head, in a way that was both pleasurable and painful. She scuffed the delicate helmet of his cock, chaffing andreddening it.
She licked the helmet, even putting her tongue into the slit. Joseph came close to orgasm. She made it build. When it seemed ineviatable the cruel girl squeezed it off at the base.
She paused a minute, then teased him up again. Joseph was literally going insane. She built him up and denied him five times. Then she took hold of his balls and began pulsing squeezes. She did these harder and harder until he passed out. While Joseph was unconscious the wicked girl wanked him hard, in a way she had studied at University, managing to make him cum despite being unconscious.
Delighted at her cruelty the pretty girl slipped off her panties, now wet with her arousal as well as her sweat, and popped them onto Joseph's head like a mask. She positioned the mucally stained crotch over his nose. At the door she turned back and blew him a kiss. "Pleasant dreams" she whispered.

Chapter 3

The next day, when Joseph woke up, he felt terrible pains in his chest. His breathing was hard and laboured, and every breath smelt of stale sweat and musky arousal. The pink cotton panties that Amanda had placed over his head, where still in place. The crotch had dried, and had actually glued itself to his nose and upper lip. He blinked his eyes, trying to understand what he was seeing.
He could see Amanda from a side on view. He could look up, to her shoulder, chest and head, quite easily, but in his limited state he couldn't easily look down. He forced his eyes to move down her body, to her waist and buttocks and thighs. She was sitting over him on some kind of raised seat. Whatever she was sat on, he was aware he was in great pain.
Amanda was sitting on a cushioned stool, with a nicely padded topside, and four short legs. It was these legs that were causing him so much pain, as they pressed firmly into his ribs and chest muscles. Every breath was achieved by lifting the pretty girl upwards. The strain of this was incredible, and that was why he had awoken. Already his chest was thrubbing with pain.
Amanda looked pretty and studious. Her hair was tied back in a simple ponytail. Her glasses were high up on her nose. She wore a pale blue cardigan, faded blue jeans, Winnie the Pooh socks, and brown penny loafers. Her legs swung playfully back and too in front of her, and her right loafer was off at the heel, swinging from her skilful toes.
She held a copy of Milton's "Paradise Lost" in her left hand, and she was making notes in the right hand margin. Feeling a little numb in the right bum cheek the pretty young girl pressed her right hand down and lifted up on that side for a few seconds. This made the pain from the stool's wooden legs all the more intense on that side. It felt to Joseph as if his chest was on fire. His ribs themselves were bending inward due to their elasticity, which compromised Joseph's ribs all the more, and gave Amanda far greater stability.
She had turned down the volume on Joseph's alarms, so it wasn't until she noticed a light flashing amber that she took notice of his distress. "Oh, you're awake then," she said contemptuously. Joseph's eyes, wet with tears, locked onto hers, pleading silently for mercy. "I'm awful comfy up here," she continued giving Joseph a little grin and wiggling her hips on the seat, "so try and be good OK!" Joseph was helplessly imobilised and in agony, totally at her command, how could he do anything else but be good?
Amanda made a show of shuffling about a bit on her stool, getting comfortable, then crossed her legs and continued reading. Joseph lay in agony below her for another hour. While she sat comfortably, relaxed and happy, he suffered. His muscles trembled and burned, his lungs strained for more oxygen. He swam in and out of consciousness. Every muscle in his body ached.
Finally Amanda slipped from the stool. She stood at his side, then lifted the cruel device from Joseph's chest. His ribcage had contorted agonisingly to the pressure of the four legs. There were deep indentations in his chest where the skin and bone had surrendered, leaving deep hollows. Amanda laughed delightedly, before poking her fingers into each hole. It amazed her to see her finger disappear up to the knuckle. The holes seemed more than a little tender and sore. The skin was bruised and inflamed. Joseph's eyes and face crinkled up in agony to her touch.
Amanda climbed up on the bed, then sat on Joseph's upper thighs with a solid thump. His thigh bones bent down sharply, creaking as if they were about to break. Fresh agonies ran through his helpless form. Amanda kicked off her loafers, revealing the damp soles of her cartoon character socks. She used her toes to remove the panty mask, then slapped her socked soles onto Joseph's waiting face. "Ahhhhhhh, that's nice," she sighed. "You are good to me Joseph." She smiled mockingly as she spoke. "I feed you that nasty sandwich, I make you smell my panties all night, I trample you flat, I even make you the base of my chair, but you love me enough to let me soothe my tired ickle feeties on your face." She slid her feet back and forth as she spoke, then beat out a rhythm on his face with her soles. "You are a good boy." She chuckled.
As she punished Joseph, she failed to hear her mother coming up the stairs. Caroline stood in the doorway and smiled lovingly at her wonderful daughter. She loved the way Amanda was so unerringly cruel to the boy. Caroline wore a cream blouse, a brown A-line miniskirt, opaque brown tights and brown ankle boots, with a silver buckle fastener. She walked over to the pair.

Chapter 4

"Having fun you two?" Caroline asked, chuckling. "Hi mom," squealed Amanda, "you shocked me." Amanda looked down to her two feet, plastered to Joseph's face, "We're having loads of fun, aren't we Jo?" The two women laughed when Amanda momentarily lifted her soles from Joseph's face, as if he could answer them. Amanda spoke from the side of her mouth in a slightly lower voice, "Yes thankyou Amanda. I'm having lots of fun under your lovely feet!" The two women roared with laughter.
"I'm glad to hear that Joseph" said Caroline. "I hope you're not getting spoiled though." The girls grinned at their mental cruelty against Joseph. "It's time for your physiotherapy now, so I hope you're ready." With that, Caroline perched her bottom on the edge of the chair and crossed her legs. Smiling contentedly she removed her right boot and dropped it to the floor. Moments later her left boot was off and dropped onto the floor too.
Amanda slid off the chair and stood watching. She loved to see her mum do this. Amanda wasn't as effective as her mum because of her slight weight. Caroline stepped up onto the chair and moved to stand at Joseph's feet. His feet were wasted and small, deformed and twisted. Caroline's feet were long, strong, shapely and slender. They dwarfed his. They were sheathed in nylon, but inside they were perfectly pedicured. She carefully positioned her foot, so the heel would come down on the side of Joseph's heel, and the toes would press to the side of Jospeh's toes. By stepping down she would turn his foot out painfully from the ankle, flexing, stretching and inflaming the joint.
Caroline lowered her heel, until she had Joseph's heel pinned to the bed. Moving totally at her own pace, she let her perfect foot roll forward, putting pressure on Joseph's ankle. Since he was paralysed, it was easy for his joints, his muscles and his tendons to tighten up. Even his circulation deteriorated. The idea of these exercises was to counter that. That they hurt like nothing else was purely a bonus as far as Caroline was concerned. She continued stepping down until the turned foot was pressing deep into the padded surface of the chair. Joseph's face was a rictus of pain. Caroline maintained the pressure, as she had been taught, then lifted her other leg and bounced on the one foot sending pulses of even worse pain through her adopted son's leg.
Laughing, she brought her foot back down, and moved to Joseph's other foot. With no pause, she gave that one the same treatment. First a slow bending round and down, then increasing pressure, then bounces under one nylon clad sole. Jospeh's ankle creaked and groaned and screamed with pain. When she stepped off onto the chair cushion both Joseph's lower legs felt as if they were on fire. Amanda skipped up and down, mouth drawn wide in a huge grin and clapped gaily. Her mom smiled, turned and bowed theatrically.
Now Caroline moved to work Joseph's wasted legs. She pressed her toes to his shin bone, transferring more and more weight until she rose up, balancing on that one leg. The bone bent down sharply. She held her nerve, until she was sure it would snap, then stepped off. Now the other shin was punished the same way. Joseph was delirious. Only the massive amounts of adrenalin running through his bloodstream kept him conscious. It was no mercy.
Caroline stepped off and on his thigh, as if she were doing step aerobics. One foot on his thigh, two feeton his thigh, bounce three times, one foot off, two feet off; this was the pattern. She did this over and over. Each thigh received the same punishment.
She stepped on his abdomen, and simply stood for a few moments, letting her big, hot feet sink in. Joseph felt his insides being compressed. His head swam. His eyes bulged. He felt as if he were an overfilled sausage about to burst. Caroline took to putting more weight on one foot so she could burrow the toes of the other deep into his internal organs. The burrowing foot would disappear up to the ankle before it stopped. Caroline used her big strong feet to massage Joseph's agonised innards.
Then it was on to his chest. She began again by simply standing stock still, letting his elastic ribs bend inward. Tiring of that, she began marching on the spot, slamming each descending foot down hard with a loud thump. She marched like the drum majorette she had once been, swinging her arms to propel an invisible baton.
She stepped off, placing her balled heel down on Joseph's palm, where she twisted it left and right over and over again. She moved her foot back, treading on his fingers now, bending them and threatening to snap them off. She walked on his forearm, rolling her foot, distorting the bone and stretching muscle and sinew. She moved to the upper arm, where she was able to get both soft soles side by side to distend and hurt. Joseph's upper arm joined the chorus of pain. Before too long, the other hand and arm received the same cruel treatment.
Now only his head remained. Caroline stepped up, left foot right foot onto her adopted son's head. Heels pressed to his jaw, insteps to his eye sockets, toes to his forehead. She shimmied side to side, working her hips playfully, making Amanda laugh. Joseph's skull began to bend inward. Caroline raised each foot in turn for a few seconds, then popped them back down. Joseph felt his head might explode. There were no words to describe the intense agony he felt.
Caroline stepped off and hopped down. "Whewww," she said, tired from her exertions. She slid her feet back into her boots and headed for the door. At the door she paused and turned back. "Don't forget Joseph, we're all going out thise evening, so Kerry and Kirsten will be round to babysit you." Then she disappeared, followed moments later by Amanda.