And so, the ladies had settled their argument. Madame was staying and I was going to serve her, if I wanted or not... Madame was clearly aware of my discomfort with this situation. She closely watched the expressions on my face while she talked to Mistress. Mistress had left the room to fetch a stepladder for elderly Madame which she needed to climb the throne on top of the stretching rack and on top of my naked, bound and tormented body. The fact that Mistress was in a separate room gave Madame the opportunity to talk extra loud when discussing various unsavory topics that one could face with growing age: calluses, foot fungus, clavus, ingrown toenails and so on... Madame savored the fact that she successfully planted those disgusting pictures into my mind where they tortured me. Throughout their conversion she watched my face closely and fed off my rising disgust and discomfort.
"I am really not sure about this, my dear!" she suddenly shouted towards Mistress in the adjacent room. "Things have changed, you know? I am not taking good care of my body anymore. And I was out all day running errands in this heat wearing these rotten old Ballerinas. The foul odor that awaits your slave might very well damage him forever! Let me -at least- freshen up a bit before we start..."
"Oh don't be ridiculous!" Mistress shouted back "just a few minutes ago, he begged me for a more rich and hearty foot-aroma... if think... or at least that's how I remember the conversation! [...] No, no, no, don't you worry, Madame! I have no doubt that you will be an absolute delicacy to him just the way you are!"
Her words hit me like a fist to stomach. "Alright, alright,..." Madame muttered. "I could certainly use an eager little beaver like this one!" Madame now changed into a whispering voice that only I could hear "You better start sucking up all the saliva that you can produce, honey," she said while she caressed my cheek. "You will need every drop of it to soak the thick calluses on the balls of my old feet. That will be necessary, I am afraid, otherwise you will hardly be able to bite them off..."
I was so grossed out that my eyes turned over into the back of my head while Madame watched. THAT was not my kind of foot fetish! All my life I was extremely turned on by a combination of two things. The one thing was moderate BDSM and the second thing was beautiful, well-shaped and pedicured female feet... At that moment things were not going into any of those directions. My body ached under the tight restraints and the severe punishments and Madame and Mistress both seemed to be determined to humiliate me far past my limits. "I know, I know" Madame interrupted my thoughts "I totally agree with you! I am also disgusted by these thick old lumps of dead skin! That is only natural. I mean, what perv would not be grossed out by that?!" her comments let my mind relax a bit. Maybe she was reasonable after all? But then she whispered in a strict and serious tone: "That is exactly why you will SWALLOW each and every bit and piece that I give you! [...] I don't care HOW HARD you will choke on it... I REFUSE to see any of it ever again!!"
My eyes turned over again in disgust and total disbelieve. I was aware that I played into Madame's hands by openly showing my discomfort, but I could not help it. She played me like a well-tuned instrument. Satisfied with her total victory over my mind, Madame turned back to Mistress and shouted across the rooms: "My dear? Don't you think, too, that it would really get your noble slaveboy turned on, if we let him nibble the hard skin off my crooked and stinky old toes, like a cute little suckerfish?!"
