Support

Support
Author Unknown

It all started as the result of an argument between my wife, Carol, and me. I had lost my job of 13 years and was feeling unproductive and uncaring. All I did was lay around the house and mope all day feeling sorry for myself while Carol worked as a sales clerk in the women's clothing section of a department store. As such she wore high-heeled shoes and hose and spent nearly the entire day on her feet, which made her feet very tired and sore. Carol was an attractive woman with long slender legs that look great in hose and heels. She was about 5' 9" and slender weighing about 110 lbs. She always seemed light to me, at least before now. I found out that 110 lbs. can be damned heavy.

One day she came home in a bad mood. It had been a terrible day. Her feet hurt and she was tired. She found me lying on the couch watching a movie where I had obviously been all day. I'd done nothing around the house and the place was a mess. Carol got mad, sat down on the couch kicked off her shoes and stuck her damp, nyloned, feet in my face and said, "Here, rub these... they hurt like hell. If you can't do anything else for support, you can, at least, support me in doing what I do." Then she started rubbing her feet all over my face. I hadn't shaved that day and the beard stubble felt good on the bottom of her feet and she proceeded to rub her feet vigorously all over my face and then she began to knead my face with her toes like my face was a clump of bread dough.

Her stockings were damp with foot sweat from being in her high-heeled pumps all day and had an obvious odor. I knew better that to try and stop her or say anything as she was obviously pissed off. After a while I took her right foot in my hands and began to massage it slowly while she continued to rub her left foot in my face.

She said, "I'm tired of you laying around here while I do all the work. From now on you are going to do a lot more to support me. Here, don't just rub my feet... lick them!" She placed both feet on my face and I began to slowly and carefully lick the bottom of her feet. I could taste the salty dampness of her nylon stockings.

I knew she was right. I hadn't done much of anything lately to help. I guess I was too depressed and feeling worthless to try. I realize I kind of left her "holding the bag" as she had to do all the work to support us and the work at home also. I've never done housework, so even if I did feel up to it, I louse it up. Once I tried to do laundry and made such a mess of it Carol told me to leave it alone. So I began to lick her feet in earnest to try and show her I could do some things right. It must have worked, because after a while she began to moan softly and move her feet with the motion of my tongue.

After a while she decided she had enough. Her feet felt better and by then all her foot sweat was in my mouth. She got up and headed for the kitchen to get supper ready. When she got to the kitchen and saw the mess I left there she got angry all over again. She called me to the kitchen and yelled at me. She said I made her feet feel better and now they were going to hurt all over again as she had to stand on the hard kitchen floor and clean up the mess and make dinner.

Anxious to get back into her good graces, I threw myself onto the floor in front of the counter and sink and said, "Here, you can stand on me so your feet won't hurt." I was surprised when she didn't even hesitate and stepped up on my chest with both feet.

She said, "Good, if you can't support me one way... maybe you can support me another." Then she stepped on my face with one foot and began to clean out the sink.

The whole time she was cleaning the kitchen and fixing supper she continued to stand and walk all over me while ignoring me. Well, she walked on me like I wasn't there, but the whole time she continued to berate me about how I wasn't holding up my end and how now was the only time I had ever done anything useful. Sometimes to make a point she would stomp on me or kick me where ever she happened to be standing at the time... on my face or on my groin if that where she was at the moment. She'd walk all over me or just stand still for a long time depending upon what she was doing at the time. If she had to step off of me to get something from the other side of the room, she would, and then when she returned she would just step right back up on me with no thought or concern to where she was stepping. She'd step on my face just as quickly as my chest and with no more concern than if she was stepping on a floor mat. Indeed at that moment that's just what I had become... a human floormat!

She stood on my stomach for a long time as she washed the dishes. She didn't move the whole time except to shift her weight as she reached for one item or another. After a while the pain became almost unbearable. Then she started walking all up and down my body and face as she wiped off the counters and started to get dinner. She walked from my ankles to my face with no concern what so ever. A couple of times the body part she would step on would move or roll with her step causing her to almost lose her balance. She would usually respond by stomping on the offending part and say to lie still. Once she stepped hard right on my balls and I began to curl up and moan. She just kicked me in the face and said to lay down straight before I caused her to trip and fall.

She said, "What, did you think supporting me was going to be easy?" then she stepped up on my face with both feet and began peeling potatoes. She stood there a long time. Her feet constantly mashing down my face. I don't know how anything that looks so soft could be so hard. The unrelenting pain of her standing full weight on my face was becoming more than I could bear, but I was determined to show her that I could do something right... that I did have a worth after all. The thing had become somewhat of a contest by this point with her trying to get me to whimper and beg her to get off and me determined to show her I could take anything she could dish out. Most of the time she just stood there immobile as a statue. I could feel her weight shifting about on my face as she moved above, but her feet remained planted right on my face. After a while she shifted her weight to one foot and began to rub the other foot around in my face; the mesh of her nylon stockings was burning my flesh. I endured it all. I pride myself on being strong and, it seems this was the only element of pride I had left, so I was determined to support her weight for as long as she wanted.

After a while she said, "Well at least you're good for something. Your face is much better to stand on than that hard floor. Too bad I can't take you to work with me... then you'd really be a contribution." then she turned on my face and walked down to my stomach. The sudden release of pressure on my face was almost as painful and her standing there. My head felt as though it were going to float away.

"Fine!" I said, "Take me to work. I can do just as good there."

"Yeah, right", she said, " are you forgetting... I wear high heels at work.

"So!" I said, "I can handle that."

"Besides," she said, "the way you roll around, I'd loose balance in my heels and fall down."

"You just let me worry about that... it sounds like you're the one who can't handle it," I said.

"Fine," she said, "tomorrow you go to work with me and we'll see who can't handle it."

She continued to walk around on me till dinner was ready and then I got up and we ate. Later that evening Carol was still somewhat pissed so I let her sit on my face while I ate out her asshole. She really likes that. Then I ate her pussy till she orgasmed in my mouth and then she went to bed.

I went to the basement to work on my plan...

To be continued....