Eating Mistresses left overs

My Humiliation – Eating Mistresses Leftover food

With a click of her fingers and a point to the floor, Mistress Diana indicated to her suffering slave that he was to kneel beside her while she ate her lunch. He scurried forward quickly and knelt beside her while she casually picked at the salad in front of her. The latest edition of Vogue was beside her and she flicked through it, stopping to read an interesting piece on this year’s must-have accessory. A $3000 Michael Kors handbag.

Her long, shapely legs were crossed under the table as Slave knelt beside her, his face inches from her black high heel shoes. He knew them well. He had kissed them on many occasions. With a nudge to his face from her foot, she indicated she wanted it kissed and worshipped again. He lowered his head and began to plant soft kisses to the real leather shoes. The faint whiff of sweat filled his nostrils, the warmth of her feet against his face.

After a few minutes, she spoke

“I’m done, slave. Kneel up”
He shuffled backwards slightly and knelt up so he was kneeling beside her. She placed her left hand on his head and tapped her fingers on it. It made a loud, deafening sound in his head that only he could hear. She looked down at him and cocked her head to the side. She looked sideways at her plate. There were still pieces of food on it. Slices of chicken, tomatoes, mayonnaise, lettuce etc.
“Such waste isn’t it? Throwing food away. Have you eaten today slave?”

She knew fine well he hadn’t. His stomach growled and he stared at the plate of delicious food on the table in front of him and his mouth watered. He suspected she was going to let him eat it but he knew her well enough, knew how much of a sadistic Mistress she was, to know there would be a catch. A big one.
“No Mistress” he answered “I haven’t”
“Well, let’s fix that then shall we?”

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And with that, she picked up the plate and tipped the whole lot over his head. Pieces of lettuce sat on his head, bits of tomato dripped from his forehead down his nose and cheeks, clumps of mayo were in his hair, on his back and on his lap.
“There, don’t say I’m not good to you”

Uncrossing her legs, she clasped her hands together between her knees and leaned forward so her face was right next to his. His body tensed and he stared straight ahead, all too aware of her eyes looking at him, almost right into his soul.
“Well?” she said. “Eat. Oh, and I think we won’t be using our hands today”

He leaned down and went straight for a piece of chicken. He had barely picked it up and started to tilt his head back to try to get it into his mouth when he felt her shoe on the back of his head, forcing it back down to the floor. Little pieces of dirt and grime came into his eyesight, as well as strands of hair. Using the side of his head for momentum, she pushed it sideways so the sole of her shoe was on his temple and nose. He could barely move his mouth. The piece of chicken was still in his mouth but was now squashed by her show.


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He tried to chew it but it was near impossible
“Oh, dear. Having trouble slavey?” she cackled, laughing and sniggering as she did so.
She shoved his head back with her foot and put it over the chicken, which was now on the floor. Resting on her heel, she looked at him with a smirk as she dangled her shoe two inches above it. Slowly, she brought it down and squashed it. Leaning on it heavily, she twisted the ball of her foot.

She brought it back up and rested on her heel again.
“Well, what are you waiting for? I thought you were hungry?”

He moved forward, his head rubbing on the ground. He stuck his tongue out and began to lick the mashed up chicken from her sole. It tasted foul, the dirt from the bottom of her shoes mixing with the white meat. His mouth was dry due to the dirt but he dared not ask for water.

After he had licked some off, she slid her sole down his face, leaving traces of chicken stuck to his cheek, lips and chin. She looked at him and he could tell by the look on her face how pathetic she thought he was. How much of a loser he was to her, and how inferior. She shook her head and snorted quietly under her breath.

She leaned forward and gently picked up a piece of tomato with her thumb and forefinger
“Eurgh, look at this. There are bits of dirt and hair on this. It’s disgusting. Fine for you though”
With that, she slipped her shoe off and placed it on top of her foot. She moved her big toe up and squashed the tomato in between her toes. She pointed to it without a word.

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He put his head down, opened his mouth and used his tongue to lick at the tomato, to get the pieces out from between her toes. He could taste the saltiness of the sweat from her feet, the grime from between her toes but he kept eating.
He felt her lean down and from the corner of his eye, he saw her scoop up a dollop of mayonnaise with her hand. She slapped it on top of his head and rubbed it into his hair. She laughed

“God, you look ridiculous. Come on, more to eat here”
And she put her shoe on top of a bit of lettuce. He got in close and had to nibble it from the sides of her shoes. He got tastes of the leather when he did so. He felt utterly humiliated and degraded. 
The next ten minutes were spent eating her scraps and leftovers from the floor. When he was done, she told him to stand. He did so. The mayonnaise was still stuck to his hair. She took more from the floor and smeared it on his body, slapping her hand unnecessarily hard on his bare skin to apply it.

She leaned back on the chair, sitting sideways on it ad with her left arm draped over the back, and admired her “handiwork”
“Well that was fun slave, but you do look so ridiculous right now, covered in foodstuff”
He knew he must have looked a sight. He was desperate to wipe it off but she stood up without a word and walked off, leaving him standing there, to wait on her giving him permission to move

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