Dose Of Maya Ch 07

Chapter 7: Aroma

Joe went back to her room with the dried clothes all folded up. She was not on her bed. She might have gone for a bath. He opened her wardrobe, laid them in, and closed it again. He turned to leave, but he saw the journal on the cabinet. He walked to it and opened it. The first page read 'The descent'. Before he could turn a page, he heard Maya's voice coming from his back. He was horrified.

"There is this recurring theme in the stories. The sub gets punished if he does something bad," she said. He turned around, his face turning red. She was leaning on the bathroom doorframe. She had a towel wrapped over her hair to let it dry. And another towel wrapped around her body from her chest to her thighs. He looked down at her barefoot and allowed himself a momentary wave of pleasure before an inevitable explosion. He closed his eyes to feel it, it was exhilarating. He opened them and looked at her. She was not amused by the look of her. He couldn't reply to her. He swallowed.

"What are you doing, Joe?" she seemed disappointed. He wanted to lie. He wanted to say to he came to put the clothes back in. But he couldn't lie, he couldn't disappoint her.

"I," he gulped. "I opened your journal, Maya."

"Is that good or bad?" she asked.

"I didn't disobey you," he defended himself.

"Did I say anything about disobeying me?" she snapped. He shook his head and looked down. She continued with a normal tone, "No, I asked, is that good or bad? Answer only my question and not the other things."

"I just thought," he was immediately interrupted.

"What have I said?"

'Was she talking about the journal or,' he thought. He took the gamble and said, "Thinking is not for me," he looked into her eyes, "Doing is my task. Following is my task." She smiled at him. He felt his heart recover. 'So, you have done something right. You idiot.'

"Good, remember that," she said, "Now, answer my question."

"Looking into other people's journals is bad," he answered. Then he remembered what she had said, 'Punishment,' his eyes lit up. 'She intends to punish me,' He tried very hard to look sad.

"Right. Because this is your first mistake, I'll leave you be," she also looked relieved.

'She was not going to punish me,' he thought. She wanted to walk away from the responsibility of disciplining someone. She didn't want to be forward. 'I can be forward. This is my chance and I'm not going lose this,' he walked quickly to her and said, "This is hardly my first mistake. I have irritated you in the morning," she frowned but he continued listing his crimes, "I forgot about your task, I smelled your socks without your permission," she seemed to be smiling. Pleasure returned and it felt good to be confessing all this, "And now, I have done this," he finished.

There was a moment of silence. To slice it, he knelt at her feet and pleaded, "Please, you have to punish me." He knew he was doing the right thing because the pleasure he felt then was the best he had ever felt. It was intoxicating. He pleaded with uneven breaths once again, "Please."

"Joe, I have nothing more to punish you with except for the tasks which you have already agreed to do."

He scurried for an answer, "I'm talking about corporal punishment," he said, "You can slap me,"

She seemed to finally understand his intention. She seems resigned to doing it and slapped him on the cheek. It was more than a tap but definitely was not a slap. He smiled, looked up at her, and said, "You can do better than that."

She pursed her lips and said, "You don't understand, I have strong arms."

"Try me."

SLAP

She slapped him hard this time. That knocked him to his side, he caught himself from falling to the ground. She was immediately beside him, leaning down. His cheek was red, and his pleasure was red hot.

"I told you," she said.

"I'm not crying, am I?" he looked at her. She was concerned for him, but he could also feel that she liked it.

"Did you like it?" he asked her.

"What?" she curled her mouth still staying near him.

"You liked slapping me?" he said.

She stood up straight and looked ashamed.

"No shame in liking that. For what it's worth, I liked it too," he said.

"I can see that," she nodded. He looked down to see his full erection. "Yes, I enjoyed it." She finally admitted.

"You can slap me if you want,"

"How many?" she asked quickly. She wanted to do it. He knew how she felt. He was aroused just like she was.

"As many you want," he said, "Of course, that is until I can hold my tears in."

She nodded and swallowed.

SLAP.

She slapped him with the other hand this time. He fell to the other side. The ecstasy of pleasure increased, and he got to his knees again to provide her, his cheeks to slap. She still was concerned about him.

SLAP.

He controlled himself from falling and felt proud about it. That was a mistake.

SLAP.

Because within a second she returned another slap that threw him to the ground. He got up to see her. She was smiling, and all the concern for him disappeared. He smiled showing his teeth and that made her giggle.

SLAP.

That knocked the smile off his face. He screamed in pain. She was laughing, now. He turned to face her, eyes closed, bracing for a hard slap. No slap came. He opened his eyes. She was still smiling but wasn't trying to hit him. 'She was concerned about the scream,' he thought. "Until I cry," he said looking at her.

"Until you cry," she agreed with a grin.

SLAP.

He tried very hard not to make a sound, but an involuntary groan left him. He shut his jaw tight.

SLAP.

A whimper left him this time. Both of his cheeks were red. He saw her, but she didn't hit him. She was smiling broadly. She started rubbing her hands on his face. She started caressing his cheeks, and said, "I didn't know this could be so much fun," He only smiled. "For a first encounter, that was hard."

"Thank you, mistress."

She was surprised, "You said you wouldn't say that again."

"There is no reason to act. I accepted it."

She smiled, "Call me that again,"

"Mistress," She grinned ear to ear.

"You thanked me," she brought her hand to her chest, "For slapping you?"

"Like you said, mistress. It was an honor."

"Next time," she said with the same grin, "You thank me for each slap."

"Understood, mistress."

SLAP.

She caught him surprised. He knew that was a test. So kissed her hand and said, "Thank you, mistress." She laughed hard and walked away from him.

"Now, clean the bathroom while I get dressed."

"Yes, mistress," he scrambled to his feet. He got his supplies to clean the bathroom. When he was about to step in, Maya stopped him, "You're going to clean like that?" she sat, cross-legged, on the bed. "You're going to make your pants wet. Strip." He was stunned. He made some noises that even he couldn't understand.

"I just showered, and the floor is all wet. I want you to clean it," she looked at him, he felt like her eyes dug right into his soul, and said, "On your knees." He gulped at her insistence.

"Besides, getting a good look at one's stock is a priority."

"I'm not a horse," he said quickly. But he entertained the thought, he felt good about it. He imagined her sitting on his back and riding him like a horse. The pleasure. If he was not careful, it would knock him out.

"You're not? I didn't notice." she said innocently, "You seen me naked. It is only fair that I see you naked too."

"Naked?" he was stunned, "I have only seen your hands and legs, not even your thighs." He pointed to her, "And I didn't dare to look at your... chest when you're leaning." She had a question mark on her face. "I respect you," he finished.

She was smirking, "Okay, I've entertained this for long enough," she said. She snapped her fingers and pointed down, "Take your pants off," she ordered. He immediately fell into motion, pulled his pants down, and kicked them to the side.

"So, If I order you, you don't resist. That's good information," she said. The pleasure, it sure would knock him out. He felt exposed. He was exposed. He was waiting for her order to remove his shirt, which didn't come. So, he removed the shirt himself. She scanned him from the bottom to the top. He could feel his erection growing. He stood there like a mannequin that was yet to be dressed.

"You know," it seemed like she wanted to humiliate him even more. "For a freak like you, that is as far as you can get to see a girl naked." Yes, he reached his full hardness with that comment. She noticed it instantly. She laughed very hard pointing at his crotch. "Why are you hard, now?" He didn't know how to answer that. But she answered it herself, "It's the humiliation, isn't it?" He nodded reluctantly. This time she laughed so hard, she fell to the bed. She recovered to her sitting position. She said, laughing through the sentence, "This is going to be so much fun."

"For the record, I had sex," he defended himself, "With multiple women."

"Yeah," she couldn't stop laughing, "A foot freak like you. Sex. Multiple women," she said in a condescending tone. "Now, get on with the job. Chop, chop."

He scanned the bathroom after he went in. It's not unclean, but it could be cleaner. He put on gloves, grabbed a scrubber, and got into the groove of bathroom cleaning. He took care of the mirror first, splashing water onto it, and wiping it down. It screeched. He didn't like that sound, it gave him tremors. Next was the wash basin, the white porcelain would be tough to clean if it was not maintained nicely. Thankfully for him, it was clean enough. So, with a few scrubs for his satisfaction, he moved on from it. He washed the marble rock there. He dusted off the wooden cabinets, throwing water on wood only ruins it.

He set down to clean the toilet seat. He took a step forward. 'On your knees,' Maya's voice rang in his ears. He dropped to his knees. The cold of the tiled bathroom floor sent shivers down his body. He breathed in and slowly crawled to the bowl. There were patches of water on the floor, but he wouldn't care about getting himself wet. He raised the lid, a foul smell hit him. He was shocked that the bowl was unflushed, but he shouldn't be shocked to see it. He just thought this would not happen so fast. But this would be a good tactic to establish control. He took in the smell and immediately coughed. He wondered how those people do scat play. This time he wanted to puke, and pleasure accompanied it. He flushed the toilet in a rush.

He closed his eyes and pictured his situation again. He was kneeling in Maya's toilet, the bowl was bright yellow with her shit and piss mixed in, and he did breathe that foul in. He realized he was in pleasure. He also thought the pleasure was not because of shit or stink but because of the gesture it might represent.

'Thinking is not for you,' he felt Maya say in his mind.

"Yes, thinking is not for slaves like me," he said to himself. "Maybe I like that smell, how could I know? It took me years to figure out I like feet. And now, I'm living my best life after that."

'Following and doing is the slave's duty,' he heard in Maya's voice. He felt that sweet delight when he thought of Maya uttering the word 'Slave'. He wished that day to come sooner.

He shook himself from that and picked the scrub to clean the bowl. Before he could land the soap-soaked scrub on the seat, a divisive thought came to his mind. "You're vile for this," he said to the water inside the bowl. But the thought excited him, he couldn't stop himself from doing it. He landed his bottom on his heels, still kneeling. He bent forward, reaching the toilet with his face. He stuck his tongue out and licked it. 'You're greedy. You're pathetic,' that was Maya's voice. He felt despicable and remarkable at the same time. He stopped himself from doing it again. He scrubbed the toilet with vigor and cleaned the inside with a long brush. He felt a sting in his shoulder. He scrubbed so hard, it pained him. After scrubbing it like forever, he decided to do the bathtub.

He picked up the loose hair in the drain and threw it into the trash can. He completed scrubbing the bathtub, cleaned the shower head quicker, and stepped out of it. He inspected his completed work with a glance. He was satisfied with himself. He knelt to clean the bathroom floor. It was a demanding task, scrubbing a bathroom floor. But he wouldn't back out of his job. So, he put his back into cleaning the floor. He could see the difference between the uncleaned and cleaned parts. It felt good to be in this position for her. He was slowly inching to the completion that's when he heard the door open. He was bent so low, he was practically touching the floor with his head. He twisted his neck to see Maya standing at the door.

"Joe, you know," she stopped at the sight of him. She beamed after looking at him. After seeing her smile like that, he stayed low to amuse her. He smiled. He felt good being used for his mistress' enjoyment. 'His mistress,' he thought and smiled. 'If I continue like this, I would be a proper slave of her in a month,' He liked it even more.

"You should know," she stopped again. She was searching for the right words. "Okay, there is no other way to say this. I'm sorry about earlier."

"You don't have to feel sorry for slapping me," he bent lower and made himself look tiny. He wanted her to see him as insignificant. She doesn't have to be sorry. It was her right.

"Not the slapping, stupid," she snapped, "Listen,"

'Thinking is not for slaves,' he repeated to himself. This was becoming his mantra.

"I don't think you're a freak. Just because you're different doesn't mean you're a freak. I'm sorry I said that," she continued, "I know you had a girlfriend. I was just teasing you there."

"Thank you," he said, "You have nothing to be sorry about. You only said those things to me." He had a brief conflict about, whether was he saying the right thing but the pleasure urged him to say more, "You can do whatever you want with me. If you want, I can be your freak." She smiled at him and nodded him to continue. She didn't move away from the door. That meant she wanted to see him cleaning. He decided to put on a show for her. He stayed as low as he possibly could and crawled slowly to clean the floor. She pursed her lips, her breathing seemed slightly not normal.

After fifteen minutes, he decided he was completed with the cleaning. He gave one last rinse with the water. He signaled her to give him some privacy. He locked the door and had a piss. He looked around, and couldn't find any toilet paper in the bathroom. But he did notice her socks on the hanger. The pleasure was lower than he expected. He washed his hands, grabbed those socks, and stepped out. She was barefoot, standing in a sweatshirt and yoga pants. He dangled the socks at her. She sat down and crossed her legs. He started moving towards her. She shook her head and pointed down with a smile. He stopped, got down to his knees, and crawled to her. Kiss, sock, kiss. He followed the routine with both of her feet. He felt more of that sweet pleasure.

"Maya, there is no toilet paper in there," he looked up at her.

She seemed shocked, 'I didn't ask anything out of normal.' "Bidets are elegant, Joe," she tapped his face with her foot. He nodded.

"Is that how you will call me now?" she continued tapping his face with her foot, "With my name, again."

He realized his mistake, "I'm, I'm sorry, mistress," he stammered, "It seems I'm still getting used to it."

"No worries, we'll go at our own pace." she nodded. They left the topic at that. She threw his clothes at him. In an instant, he was dressed up. The doorbell rang. "Get that,"

He got a plate from the kitchen cabinet and walked to the couch. It was the lunch she ordered for both of them. He put the plate down on the table and sat down near the couch. As near as he could, without being obvious, to her feet. She looked down at him and smiled. "You fit into this role quite nicely," she said while sharing the food. She ordered Indian food. It was not his favorite, they tend to be spicy. But Padma once called the Indian food from a restaurant 'Sweet.' And he thought he was on Hot ones that day. "Thank you," he replied. They dug in, it was not as hot as he thought it would be. He was thankful for that. He was shocked to see how Maya ate. She tore a small piece out from the bread, dipping it into the curry, in the process greasing her fingers, and then she put it into her mouth.

He looked at her incredulously, "Elegant, you said?" he pointed at her, "This is pure elegance, Maya."

"Don't judge," she curled her lips, "This is how you eat Indian food. Try it." He didn't take her advice. He did tear the bread into small pieces and ate them. But he spread the curry on the bread with a spoon. 'I called her Maya again. I have to get that habit out of me quickly.'

"You liked it, today?" she asked,

"Yes, mistress."

"Even slapping?"

"Yes," he said and smiled.

"What?"

"It's nothing," he said. She looked into him. "My girlfriend, in primary school, used to hit me and bought me lunch afterward. I thought of her, that's it." She nodded to him. "I think my fascination with feet started with her."

She looked at him curiously. "So, how did your foot fetish start?" she asked him.

He was reluctant to say it but said it anyway. He explained about his girlfriend in primary school, about the girl in knee-high socks, about his fascination with knee-high boots, and about the sex he had with his girlfriend in knee-high boots.

"It was the best sex I have ever had," he breathed. He noticed her looking at him in surprise. "And I realized I had a foot fetish when I looked at your feet."

"Oh? That day. You walked away from me that day," she said.

"Yes," he agreed.

They ate silently after that. After a time, "So, when do you have to leave?" she asked.

"That depends," she raised her eyebrow, "That depends on how much time you intend to keep me," She smiled and dug into her food again.

So, she intended to keep him for a longer time than he thought. She was sleeping on her bed. And he was at the foot of that bed, kneeling. He was kneading and massaging her feet for more than two hours now. "I want to see you in the same position when I wake up," she had said before falling asleep. And he intended to do it. His knees were in pain, at least he was not kneeling on the hard floor. She was kind enough to give him a pillow to kneel on. He was hard throughout this exercise. He smelled her feet twice. It didn't have a stinky smell like yesterday but it did make him frenzy with that pleasure. He continued for another hour more like that. His knees were begging for him to stop. And He begged that this ordeal would never stop. She finally woke up to see him just as she wanted. If his knees had lungs, they would breathe a sigh of relief. She seemed impressed, now he breathed a sigh of relief. He didn't know he was nervous until now.

"You didn't disappoint. You can go home, now," she said. He didn't want to go home, he wanted to stay here. "But just after you get your reward."

'Reward,' he perked up. His eyes widened and his mouth was left open. He thought he was drooling like a dog at the sight of a treat. The frenzy of that pleasure doubled down on him. She might have seen the same thing because she laughed at his expression. She got out of her bed, "Come with me." He didn't stand up, he just crawled after her. She moved toward her closet. She laughed looking at him. His interest and pleasure increased even more after realizing they were moving toward the closet. She walked into the closet and sat on the only seat. He crawled in, just after her. He knelt at her feet. There was a mirror to her right slanted to the wall from the ground. It probably was there to check out the shoes. But the image he saw excited him. That was what he was dreaming about. Maya laid a hand on his head looking into the mirror. There he was kneeling at a woman's feet, and his owner had her hand over his head like he was her pet. He couldn't describe the pleasure he felt. He didn't know she understood the symbolism of it but he would take that as his reality.