Author's Note: All characters depicted are 18 years of age or older.
*
Anita and Shilpa were teachers in the local convent high school in a small Indian town. They were both in their late forties, youth and beauty fading away, and so were the charms of their ageing husbands. They bonded together really well, having common interests as well as closely related personalities. Shilpa was the richer among them, her husband a rich businessman in the town. She used to frequent the city's high social circles, clad herself in expensive sarees and jewellery, even in the most plebeian of settings, and was always dressed impeccably. She was tall, slimly built, and the beauty (and the corresponding confidence) of bygone youth was oozing from her persona. Anita was a the more middle class wife, dressed more shabbily, her hair frequently not done, fatter than her friend, and much shorter. Another characteristic feature was her addiction to paan (betel leaf), which she always used to chew, regardless of time and place.
It was just an ordinary day with lunch on the table. They were engaged in one of their favorite topics of discussion, senior boys in the school, young meat which they so fervently desired to spice up their decaying sex lives.
Suddenly Amit came into the room. Amit was in twelfth standard, a healthy, well hung boy of 19, but a back bencher in the class. English was his special drawback.
"Anita Madame, I have failed in English. The principal says I cannot be promoted without passing grades in English."
"Amit, I remember your paper. It was horrible. There is no way I could have passed you on that one. There is no use crying in front of me. It would have been better if you studied well before the exams".
"Please, Madame, save me. Just a pass grade in English would save my skin. How will I go back home and tell my parents about this? Madame, please. Madame, please."
"Amit, I will not waste more time with you. I have told you once, there is nothing that I can do about it. You may go now".
Amit stood there, his hands folded in prayer. There was a plea for mercy in his eyes. All he could say was
"Please, Madame. Please save me."
He kept on repeating those words, while Anita and Shilpa started eating in silence, hoping that he would stop pestering them if they ignored him. But for Amit, it was a life and death situation. He now bent down on his knees, and fell at Anita's feet. He clasped her sandal-clad feet with her hands, and bowed his head, his forehead touching her sandals. Anita could feel his warm tears flowing down her feet, his hands clenched around her ankles in desperation. It gave her a sudden rush of power. It was the power that she often felt as a teacher, while grading her students. The fate of her students depended on a single stroke of her pen. Now, she was feeling it first hand. There was this boy, kneeling down at her feet, completely at her mercy. First, Anita tried to shoo him away.
"What is this? Don't irritate me. I don't like all this," she said, and kicked him in the face, hoping to get rid of him, as well as feeling a heavy rush of power in her. She was actually secretly hoping at this point that the young boy would linger on for some more time, so that she can enjoy the humiliation more completely.
Amit backed down a little after the kick. He was still bending low on the ground, a little distance from her. He kept on muttering apologies, as well as repeating his pleas for mercy, which Anita as well as Shilpa were now enjoying, as sauce with their food. He was now their plaything.
Shilpa had a cruel smile on her face. She started, "So, Amit, you would do anything that we ask you to?"
"Yes, Madame. I will do anything that you tell me. I shall be like your slave."
Amit saw a small ray of hope, as he went near Shilpa Madame's feet. Shilpa Madame was sitting cross-legged, her sari touching the ground, and a glimpse of her expensive sandal could be seen beneath it. She liked his answer. It was getting her wet. She let him come near her feet. She also wanted to feel his tear stained face in her feet. Very predictably, Amit came and threw herself at Shilpa Madame's feet.
"Madame, anything. Anything you say."
"Anything, really? How about eating this piece of roti (bread) from the floor?"
Shilpa Madame dropped the half eaten piece of roti in her plate to the ground, and mashed it with her sandals.
"Lets see if you can lap it up," she said in a mockingly loving tone, that one uses with their pet. Amit was desperate. He started lapping up the piece of bread, mixed with the dirt under Shilpa Madame's shoes.
"Choo, choo," Shilpa Madame pointed towards the morsels left at the bottom of her sandals. She called him like a dog. There was a cruel smile in her eyes that was somehow getting Amit wet in his pants. Amit came crawling towards her feet. He lapped up the morsels of bread in her sandals. They tasted horrible, combined with all the dirt from the streets in her sandal. He almost wanted to throw up.
"Good," said Shilpa Madame. She stroked her head with the other sandal.
In the meantime, Anita Madame was seating back and enjoying the humiliation. Now, she put her sandals on the boys face, too. She pressed the sandals on his head, so that his nose was now squashed in the floor. What a feeling of power it gave her! The head of a man squished beneath her feet, and the man obediently suffering, just for her pleasure. She always liked men groveling. She always loved to see petty people like beggars, door-to-door salesman groveling and sucking up to her. But this, of course, was different. Here, it was so physical.
"Bloody Fuck, I will squish you like a worm that you are, under my feet," she thought in her mind.
"Come to my house tomorrow evening, at five, after the classes. We will talk about it and I want to see you this obedient. Remember, this is your only chance."
"Thank you, Madame. Thank you Madame." Amit kept on repeating, thanking them profusely, touching the ground in front of Anita Madame's feet with his forehead each time.
Anita Madame would have liked the scene to go on forever. However, she did not want people outside the staff room to see what was going on and draw attention.
