I rushed behind Mistress, laden down with over a dozen bags from designer stores. Places like Chanel, Gucci, Michael Kors and Koi Kai. We had been shopping at 10 am. It was now after 3 and I was exhausted but Mistress didn’t care. I am only her lackey. Her personal property that she does not have to care about the well being of. I had five bags in my left hand and seven in my right.
I could barely carry them and my fingers were stretched and aching. I could feel people stare at us as she marched on ahead and I tried to run behind her to keep up, the bags swinging around as I did so.
I have been Mistress Rhodes slave for about 5 years. I worship the ground she walks on but she doesn’t care. She uses me as a verbal punchbag, a stress reliever to abuse or a toy to humiliate when she is bored.
Still, to be beside this perfect vision of beauty and womanhood was an honour and I was willing to accept any amount of abuse in order to be kept by her.
So here we were, walking through Santa Clara mall on a busy Saturday afternoon. She was wearing a tight black leather skirt, black high heels and a dark top. Her blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail which swung from side to side as she walked ahead. My head was down and I had a perfect view of her pert ass as it wiggled as she walked, perfectly sculpted by the tight leather of her knee length skirt.
I felt the bags slip in my hands and before I could do anything, it happened. They fell. The seven bags of my right hand tumbled to the ground and as I instinctively tried to stop them, the ones in my left fell as well. The all battered on the ground with a terrible racket. I looked at them and my eyes widened. I had screwed up. I looked up and Mistress Rhodes had turned and was standing right in front of me.
Her face was like thunder, her mouth straight and her lips thing. Her eyes bore into me. I slumped my shoulders forward and tensed my arms. My eyes dropped to the ground and I bowed my head. I dared not say or do anything at this point.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” she hissed
“I’m sorry Mistress” I stuttered “I couldn’t hold……….”
That was as far as I got. I didn’t even see her hand coming but I felt it when it made its connection with my face. She slapped me. Hard.
I stumbled to the rights, seeing stars and with my ears ringing. I blinked my eyes, trying to clear my head. I moved back towards her, as I have been trained to do, and stood silently. My excuse making had obviously pissed her off.
Without moving my head, I looked from the side of my eyes and I could see people looking at us. My cheeks burned with the humiliation, not just from the slap. A group of teenage girls sitting on the stainless steel benches were giggling and pointing and at least one guy had a video phone out, recording it all
Mistress had her hands on her hips and was staring at me
“I’m not interested in your excuses. Get down on your knees right now and kiss my feet”
My blood ran cold. I had kissed her feet on many occasions of course but I had never suffered the public humiliation of an audience before.
“B-bb-but Mistress, there are people……………”
She slapped my face again to stop me talking. I could hear the murmurs and the laughing and giggling as people stood staring at the spectacle unfolding before them.
“Do you think I don’t know there are people here? Idiot. You just do as you’re told this instant”
I tentatively got down on my right knee, then slowly brought my left down. I now knelt before this superior female in a busy mall, utterly degraded and painfully aware of all the stares and astonished looks from the vanilla people.
My arms hung by my side, my cheeks burned with embarrassment and I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me as I knelt in front of her with my head down.
“Kiss my feet. NOW” she hissed at me through gritted teeth, her mouth barely opening
I placed my hands on the ground and put my head to her feet. People were exclaiming and whispering to each other. I could see rows of feet to both sides of me. I hesitated a few inches from her toes in order to steel myself. She cleared her throat loudly to remind me to get a move on.
I pursed my lips and began to kiss her feet, right there in the middle of the mall with a crowd of people all staring in astonishment and unable to believe what they were seeing.
“I’m not hearing any apologies,” she said sarcastically
“I’m sorry Mistress. I’m so sorry” I said feverously as I kissed her feet all over. “I’m so very sorry”
Her left foot was further forward than her other. She clicked her fingers and I twisted my head to look up. Her arms were folded and she was staring down at me
I looked to my left and right. All I could see were rows of people all filming on their phones or staring. I looked back up at her
“Buck up your ideas mister,” she said “You REALLY don’t want me to decide I need to retrain you”
And with that, she turned and stormed off. I quickly got off my knees, scooped up the bags and ran after her. I kept my head down as I squeezed past the crowd, my face crimson and glowing with shame.