Hers To Use

I belong to her. I am hers.

I first met her in college. We started as friends. Then things got further between us and we became a couple. Things were going so great that I decided to tell her about my fantasies.

"You like... feet?" She asked, confused.

"Not just feet," I said. "I like being used by you. Being your slave. You can do anything to me. Pretend I'm not here."

"So... like make you do chores and stuff?"

"Well, sure, but also personal stuff. Like, make me give you a massage, a foot rub, and stuff like that. Anything you want."

"Okay," she said, not really getting it.

She was sort of clueless. She had a clumsy nature and a thick head. She was often oblivious to things around her. She'd joke around oblivious to people's feelings, ask them for big favours, and even act unintentionally cruel towards them. It was one of her biggest faults, but I loved her anyway.

"I want you to give my feet a massage then," she said casually, extending her feet in front of her and planting them on a footrest.

I grinned, getting up from the sofa and sitting in front of her feet. This was what I was hoping for. I wanted her to use me callously for her own pleasure. I started rubbing her feet, softly running my hands through them. She turned on the T.V. and started watching a show, ignoring me at her feet.

I soon started massaging her feet, pressing my thumbs against her soles and dragging them along her arches. She moaned in pleasure at first, enjoying the massage, but as I kept massaging her feet, she started getting used to it and stopped reacting.

I continued massaging her feet, sitting on the floor obediently. After thirty minutes, my fingers were tired and aching, so I stopped massaging her feet and started getting up. "What are you doing?" She asked, annoyed. "Keep massaging my feet. It feels nice. You said you want to do what I want, so you shouldn't complain."

I sat back down on the floor and continued massaging. This wasn't exactly what I had in mind. Massaging her feet was nice and all, but it wasn't enough. I wanted more. But I did ask her to do whatever she wanted with me, so I can't complain.

I stayed on the floor massaging her feet for over an hour. She watched a show comfortably from the sofa, her feet crossed as I massaged them. She didn't give any sign of acknowledgment as I massaged her feet, but every time I tried to get up, she would stop me and order me to continue massaging her feet. My knees were aching and my fingers were sore. It was getting difficult for me to continue massaging her feet but I forced myself to continue because I wanted her to know I was serious.

Finally, when she finished watching T.V., she said, "That's good enough."

I kissed her foot lightly and got up to sit next to her, but she stopped me. "You want me to use you however I want, right?"

I nodded.

"Then you're not allowed on the couch," she said. "It's just more comfortable for me to have the whole couch to myself."

I nodded and went to sit in an armchair near her, but she stopped me again. "You're heavy... so sitting on couches might ruin the cushions. Just don't sit on any couches."

"Then where am I supposed to sit?"

"On the floor," she immediately said.

Frowning, I sat by her couch on the carpeted floor. It wasn't very comfortable, but the carpet made it better. She immediately rested her feet on my shoulders. Her ankles heavily planted themselves on my shoulders, and a foot surrounded me on each side.

Her feet were gorgeous. They were wide and long. You can only find shoes that fit her feet in special stores. Usually, large feet are rough and calloused. However, her feet were creamy and smooth. The edges of her soles were a delightful shade of pinkish red, but the center was creamy white. They were soft and only had a few wrinkles. They always looked like someone had put lotion on them.

We just watched the show together then, neither of us saying a word. I was so engrossed by my fantasy that I couldn't think of anything else. Her feet were the only thing on my mind. She swayed her feet from side to side, pressing her ankles harder on my shoulders as she was engrossed in the show she was watching.

After about forty minutes, near the end of the episode, I snapped out of it as my girlfriend started yelling. "HOW COULD THEY KILL HIM?"

"What?" I asked, dazed.

"Emilio! He was my favourite character. They killed him!" She pressed her feet harder on my shoulders, causing me to wince in pain.

"Oh," I said. "Maybe they'll bring him back?"

"Weren't you watching?" She said. "Now I'm mad at you too. He can't come back!"

A terrible idea came to my mind. "Well... you're free to use me to take out your frustration. Like a punching bag."

"Really? Are you sure?" She asked, already removing her feet, preparing herself to hit me.

"Yes. But please use your feet!"

"Well then," she said. "FUCK YOU!" She yelled, slamming her large foot into my face. Her soles crashed on my cheeks as if she was slapping me. My vision immediately flipped as I fell to the floor from her kick. She didn't stop. "How. Fucking. Dare you," she said, stomping my face roughly with each word. She was like a maniac, stomping me furiously. I couldn't even speak; she gave me no chance to recover as she delivered kick after kick, stomping my face like a cockroach. Her foot kept kicking me, and she screamed slurs and insults at me, releasing her anger using me. She kicked me with all her strength, causing my head to spin as her large foot roughly played with my face.

She stomped me again and again, each stomp painful in a different way. One of her stomps cracked my nose, causing me to scream in pain, but she just kept going, believing this to be my fantasy and genuinely using me as a way to release her frustration. I was like a punching bag for her feet. She was clearly furious as each kick left me crying in pain.

She spat on my face a few times, then slapped me as hard as she could. Her large red creamy sole slammed down across my cheek wet with saliva. I cried in pain as her slap knocked a tooth loose. She was a menace as she kept slamming her feet on my face, slapping me mercilessly. Her foot got wet with her spit, and now the sound of her slaps was wet as her wet foot smacked my face. Her sole was glistening with her own saliva as she kept slapping me, covering my face with her spit.

I felt like nothing more than a punching bag. I took in kick after kick as she used me to calm herself.

She finally felt better after more than thirty kicks, stomps, and slaps, all of which caused me immense pain. I was crying, and by the time she finished, I was begging her for mercy. "I thought it was what you wanted," she said, slapping my face again.

"Do you not want me to use you as I want anymore?" She asked, carefully caressing my face with her wet foot as I cried in front of her. She wiped my tears with her big toes.

"I do," I said weakly. I quickly recovered and tried to think through the pain. If I said no, she would never use me again. My fantasies would be nill. So I have to bear through this so I can become her foot slave. "It's part of my fantasy. Please ignore my begging. Just use me however you wish. Pretend I'm your personal belonging, not a human."

She grinned. "Great! Because I had a brilliant way to use you tonight."

Despite all the pain I felt, I was eager for her to use me, so I just nodded, looking at her with a smile. She slapped my face again and planted both her soles on my face.