THE FOOTSLAVE OF MARTINA HINGIS

THE FOOTSLAVE OF MARTINA HINGIS

Author Unknown
I was kneeling in Mistress Martina’s dressing room. It was the Australian Open 2002 tournament and she was playing the quarter finals against her Italian opponent Serra Zanetti. I was nervously awaiting my Mistress’ entry as I was totally ignorant of the game’s result. If my Mistress won I would have to serve her as usual, providing her with foot service, rubbing and tonguecleaning her precious feet,, sucking her sweaty toes until they were sparkly clean. On the other hand if she lost, I would be severely punished for her misfortune. I would be cruelly beaten by her whip, suffer agonizing pain just to help her forget her defeat. To go short I would have to serve as her whipping boy. Fortunately for me this wasn’t often the case since Mistress Martina was performing very well lately. After her injury she was in perfect shape again and it seemed as if she had found her second breath. Her career was flourishing again and the prize money was just pouring in. Even her strongest critics had to admit she would soon regain her place at the top as Martina waltzed through the circuit like a real tennis Queen. Then the door opened and my Mistress came in with a broad smile on her face. As usual I prostrated myself at her feet and asked the obligatory question : "May I ask how my Mistress performed today ?" "Of course you may, slave", she answered with a regal stare in her eyes, "I crushed the Italian bitch like a bug under my feet !" I felt a feeling of immense relief through my entire body. "Congratulations, Mistress Martina !", I said as I humbly pressed my lips on the tops of her white tennis sneakers. "Well, thank you, slave", she laughed. "I’m sure you’re very happy to hear that, aren’t you ?" "Well yes, Mistress, I can’t deny that", I answered sheepishly. "Well, today you’re safe but who knows later this week I may have to use my whip on you, now you wouldn’t like that, would you, slave ?" She teasingly prodded my head with her foot as I confirmed her suggestion. "Haha poor boy", she teased, "to have to be the footwipe of a young, rich and successful tennis Goddess. What a life, haha !!!" Triumphantly Mistress Martina crushed my head under the sole of her tennis sneaker and pressed my face against the wet floor of her dressing room. I grovelled in submission to my superior Mistress as I heard her laugh echo through the room and realized I was indeed nothing more than her footworm. "Untie my sneaker, slave. My feet are very hot today !" Obediently I raised my head as soon as she freed my head from under her foot. Then my teeth searched for the ends of her shoestrings since contact with my Mistress’s feet was only allowed through my mouth. A couple of seconds later I succeeded in untieing both her sneakers. "Good job, slavedog ! Now release my feet !" Mistress Martina now stood up and turned her back to me so that her heels were now facing my face. As instructed I clenched my front teeth to the rim of her heel and waited for my Mistress to lift her foot so that it would be released from her sweaty sneaker. It was a very effective but all the more humiliating way to do it but Mistress Martina just liked having me at her feet for the longest possible amount of time. It was a confirmation of her superstar status to have someone constantly grovelling at her feet, obeying her every whim. It gave her a feeling of immense power to dominate a living human being and use him as a simple tool for her sadistic enjoyment. In this case she never had to worry about getting rid of her frustrations anymore, now she had a whipping boy she could punish whenever and however she liked. It suited her perfectly. The life of a tennis superstar was under any circumstance very stressful and being in possession of a personal slave was nothing of a luxury indeed. This is why Mistress Martina liked having me around wherever she went, ready to fulfil her every wish. She wasn’t very much of a social person so she much preferred to spend her spare time at her hotel room with me at her feet, completely at her beck and call. The moment Mistress Martina’s sneakers came off the overwhelming scent of her sweaty socks intoxicated my nostrils. As usual after an intensive hour of world top tennis her feet and socks were drenched in sweat and it was no surprise that the smell of her feet combined with the leather of her sneakers was rank. However this was one of the reasons why Mistress Martina enjoyed my foot services so much. She knew nothing was more humiliating to a slave than having to debase himself at the feet of his Mistress and being forced to smell her sweaty feet. It was the ultimate symbol of his total submission to her. The bottoms of her socks were literally brown, completely drenched in sweat, coloured and flavoured by the insoles of her leather sneakers. She tilted her leg and admiringly looked over her shoulder, approving of the dirty state of her sweaty socks. "Raise your face, footboy !", she ordered and I tilted my neck so my face was now facing the entire sole of Martina’s foot. "Are you ready, slave ?", she now asked mockingly as I fearfully looked at the brown bottom of Martina Hingis’ sweaty sock. "Yes Mistress", I said reluctantly. Then Mistress Martina pressed the entire length of her sole hard against my face so it was completely covered. The next second I was gaspin for breath, totally smothered and almost choked by the powerful scent of her foot. I struggled to maintain my humiliating position under her sole as my Mistress burst out in triumphant laughter. "Hahaha, what’s the matter, slave ? Can’t take the smell ? Hahaha, that’s too bad, cos you’re gonna have to smell these feet for as long as I want you to smell them. In fact if I could I’d just choke you to death with my feet, haha !" I could only submit in complete submission to the feet of my beautiful and superior Mistress. After a while I grew a little more accustomed to the awful and rank smell of her powerful feet but I felt myself slowly collapsing under the empowering cheesy aroma of my Mistress’ peds. It didn’t take long before I finally collapsed and begged for her mercy. "Hahaha, just what I thought, a weak pussyboy, hahaha ! Well I’m afraid you lose again, slaveboy. You will be severely punished for that !" I bowed my head in defeat. Indeed, I once again failed to submit myself completely to the torturing feet of my Mistress and would have to pay the price for my disobedience. "I will decide on your punishment later, slave", she added. "Now, first take off my socks, I want to shower !" Bashfully I took the tip of her sock in my mouth and waited for my Mistress to pull her foot out of her sock. With little effort she freed both her feet from her sweaty socks and with great amusement watched me lyin at her feet with her sweaty sock in my mouth. "Lay down that sock, slave and open your mouth ! You will now tonguebathe my toes !" Again I obeyed my Mistress and opened my mouth as wide as I could, ready to receive her sweaty toes. "You will now taste the toes of your Mistress in your scummy slave mouth, boy ! Now bow to my will and take the humlilation !" Her command was strict and demanding. I reveled in slavery. Soon the toes of Martina Hingis brushed the back of my throat. Almost instantly my mouth was filled with her footsweat and toedirt, mixed with small particles of her sock. "Yes like that, and don’t forget to lick between my toes or I will punish you even harder !" I didn’t give her a chance to consider the opportunity and immediately started to slither my tongue between the crack of her toes. The taste was awful. The space between her toes was simply stuffed with toejam and huge chunks of dirt were already mixing with my saliva. "And don’t forget to swallow, slave, I want my feet to be cleaned to perfection !" Reluctantly I swallowed the chunks of dirt from Mistress Martina’s foot and degraded myself before her to depths I’ve never experienced before. "Lick boy, lick as if your life depended on it !" The beautiful Martina now forced her foot even deeper down my throat. It truly felt as if she wanted me to choke on her foot. She added some more pressure on her foot which forced me to crane my neck completely till it touched my back which was very painful. "Yes like that ! Suffer worm ! Suffer for your beautiful Mistress" Martina Hingis laughed regally as I struggled for survival with her beautiful foot stuck into my mouth. My tongue continued to clean the sweat of her feet as she started to laugh frantically when she witnessed the desperate struggling of the worm at her feet. "Hahaha, now that’s why I’m standing here and you’re at my feet struggling for your life, slave ! Because I am rich and beautiful and you aren’t, hahaha, it’s so much fun !" I grovelled at her feet like a worm unable to do anything about this terrible humiliation. She was right. I was but a worm at her feet, a nobody, an object she used to wipe her regal feet on. "Now clean the dirt under my toenails, slave ! Get your teeth under my toenails, NOW !" She now took her toes back out of my mouth so I could get my teeth under the rims of her perfect toenails. Soon I was scraping all the dirt from under her nails with my teeth and swallowing every chunk. "Yes, that’s a good boy ! I want my feet to be cleaned and ready for the next game against Monica !," the beautiful superstar said, " so I can crush her too beneath my beautiful peds, hahaha " Martina Hingis’ cruelness was simply unmatched. She didn’t give a damn about her opponents. All she wanted was to humiliate them at her feet and teach them their place. That’s why she wasn’t very popular among other players. However she didn’t care. After all she wasn’t in the tennis business for charity reasons. All she was interested in was showing them she was the best and she considered nothing too cruel to lead her to supremacy. "Now do the same to my other foot, slave !", she barked as she brutally took her toes out of my mouth and kicked me viciously in the face. Again I humbly complied with her command and started licking the sweat off her moisty little foot. The process repeated itself entirely. My mouth and mind were now completely under the spell of Martina Hingis’ foot smell. I wasn’t able to think clearly anymore and was completely devoted to the cleaning of my cruel Mistress’ feet. And what it all made worse was that the worst was yet to come : a sound whipping from the hands of my cruel Tormentress, the gorgeous Martina Hingis, the perfect Superstar Bitch.