I couldn't believe I was finally doing it. After all the years of fantasizing and daydreaming, I was finally taking action to see my dreams fulfilled. It took me weeks to finally send an email to Mistress Xaviera...I still don't know what it was that led me to her homepage. I had looked at dozens of homepages for Mistresses on the internet, but this one drew me like a fish caught on a line. There wasn't anything special about the homepage, just a real need to email Mistress Xaviera and let her know that I wanted to be her footslave. The next seven days were torture, as I must have checked my email at least ten times each day, hoping to hear some kind of response from her, even if it was to tell me to get lost. Finally, after a week I received that wonderful email telling me to call her to set up an appointment. I wasted no time in dialing the number I was given, and was mesmerized by the silky, sexy voice that answered the phone. My voice caught in my throat as I tried to respond. She was firm, but not bitchy, and she sounded incredibly sexy. She asked me a few questions to make sure I was really committed to becoming her footslave, then told me to be at her house on Saturday morning at 9:00. If I was late by as much as 5 seconds I could forget about being her slave.

I looked at my watch to make sure I had enough time...it was only 8:50. I found the address and stopped in front of an austere two-story home, very nicely kept. The lawn out front was perfectly manicured, with flowers and shrubs. It gave me a glimpse into the personality of the woman I was hoping would take me on as her footslave. At precisely 8:59 I rang the doorbell and quickly got down on my hands and knees and put my forehead to the ground, as I was instructed, and waited. I could hear my heart pounding in my ears...I was sure it could be heard from anywhere on the porch. After the longest fifteen seconds in my life the front door opened.

"Mistress, I humbly request the honor to be considered as your footslave, to be used as a human carpet, and to be continually under your feet. I relinquish all my rights as a person and willingly submit to being your possession, to be used for your pleasure alone."

After a long pause, that same silky, sexy voiced purred, "Ah! I was hoping you would be on time. Very good so far, however, I must interview you to see if you will meet my needs. You may enter...follow me!"

I resisted the urge to look up at her as she spoke these words, but kept my eyes on the ground as I followed her into the house. The floor was covered with plush cream colored carpet, and was soft to walk on. My eyes traveled ahead of me and were greeted with a sight of the most wonderful shoes I've ever seen. Clear high-heeled mules adorned the feet that I hoped I'd get to spend the rest of my days under. The heels were about four inches tall and tapered down in diameter to about the size of a dime. She wore no stockings...she didn't need to...her feet and legs were wonderfully tanned. My eyes continued to travel up her shapely legs to a black leather miniskirt/dress that hugged her curves so closely it made my knees weak. Finally, I chanced a look up higher to see long straight black hair that came down to her waist. I could not help thinking that if the front of her looked half as good as the back I would really be in heaven.

She led me to the living room and took a seat on the couch. She pointed to the floor in front of her and told me to take a seat. She began to ask me a series of questions about my past, my job, my family, and why I wanted to become a footslave. It was really hard to concentrate on answering her questions because I kept my eyes glued to the floor in front of me, which happened to be the same spot she had her feet. The red polish on her perfectly manicured toes almost made me forget who I was. I really couldn't remember what I answered to the questions, but it must have been satisfactory because she then began to explain what my duties would be if I were accepted as her footslave.

"You will always be either under my feet, or near them if I give you permission. You will sleep beside my bed on the floor so that when I wake up I won't have to step on the floor. You will serve as my shower mat, my bathroom floor mat, my footrest when I'm sitting, and my personal carpet whenever I desire it. I will wear any and all types of shoes on you, but you must know that I really love high heels. I have a closet full of them, from chunky wide heels to metal-tipped spikes. I expect you to keep them all shiny by spit-shining them with your tongue. No part of your body is off limits...I am free to stand on whatever I want, from your face to your balls. When I am at work, you will clean the house, do my laundry, and fix my dinner. You will work at all times, however, I will give you Sunday morning off from 8:00 to 12:00 for your 'time of rest'. You may spend this time as you please, but you cannot leave this house unless I give you permission. Are you willing to abide by these rules?"

"Yes, Mistress, I am," I answered breathlessly.

"Once we begin, there will be no turning back. I want you to very carefully consider what you are agreeing to. You will become my property. I will be able to do anything I want to you, even end your pathetic life if I choose. I could torture you or dismember you, or I could run over you with my BMW. I could even use the heels on my shoes to put your eyes out. Are you still willing to become my footslave?"

Without any hesitation, I again answered, "Yes, Mistress, I am."

"Then I hereby designate you as my personal footslave. I want you to show your devotion to me in a very special way. Every day you will do this to show your devotion to me. If for any reason you cannot perform this devotion you will be terminated as my personal footslave. Lie down on your stomach and lay your hands flat on the floor in front of you, palms up."

I did as I was told. Mistress Xaviera stood up and turned around. I watched the clear high heeled mules begin to step back closer to my palms. She slowly lifted up her right foot and placed the heel of the mule in the center of my right palm. I watched in fear as she began to shift her weight to that foot. My fear quickly turned to panic as the pain in my palm grew beyond what I anticipated. It felt like someone was driving a stake right through the palm of my hand. Finally, the left foot lifted off the ground, putting all her weight onto my right palm. I gritted my teeth to keep from crying out, for I was sure if I cried out she would terminate my employment. She placed the heel of her left foot in the center of my left palm and shifted half of her weight onto that foot. Through my tears of pain I could see both clear heels rising up from the center of my palms. I could even see how deeply those heels were digging into the flesh of my palms. I realized that doing this every day would probably scar my palms with a dime-sized indentation for life. Just as I thought I might be getting used to the weight on my palms, she shifted her weight onto her left foot and raised the right foot up and presented the bottom of the shoe to my face.

"Now, I want you to lick the bottom of this shoe thoroughly...I want you to clean all the dirt from the bottom. When it's spotless, I want you to suck on the heel until I'm satisfied."

I really wanted to please her, but it was hard to concentrate on anything except the pain coming from my left palm. I raised myself up on my elbows and began licking her right sole with all the gusto I could muster. I could taste bits of carpet and dirt mixed together as my tongue washed the bottom of her shoe. I was beginning to think I would not be able to move my hands if this continued much longer, so I quickly took her whole heel into my mouth and sucked like I've never sucked before. After about two minutes she removed the heel from my mouth, placed her heel back on the same spot on my right palm (she could see the indentation), and raised her left foot to my face for the same treatment. As her weight shifted back onto her right foot, my right palm, which was already hurting like hell, blossomed in new pain bringing more tears to my eyes. I lost all feeling in my fingers as they curled up around the heel of the shoe. I carefully washed the bottom of her left shoe and took the heel in my mouth for another sucking. These two minutes seemed to last for hours as it seemed I could feel her right heel going through my hand and onto the floor below. Finally, she removed her left heel from my mouth and placed it back on the same spot on my left palm. Although the weight was lessened on my right palm, the increased weight on my left palm almost made me cry. She stood like that for about two more minutes, then without warning, raised the toes of both feet into the air, putting all of her weight on her heels. My body went rigid as I threw back my head and gave a silent scream for mercy. While balancing on just her heels she began to pivot her feet to the right and then to the left, digging her heels deeper into my bruised palms. When I couldn't take it any longer, when I had decided to just scream and let her dismiss me, she brought both feet down and stepped off my hands. The indentations were remarkable...little circles embedded into my flesh. I couldn't move either hand, they just curled up into balls of pain.

"I have marked you as my personal footslave. Every day we will repeat this devotion with whatever shoes I am wearing. The mark on your hands is a symbol of your total devotion to me and to my pleasure. I want you to cherish that mark, and be thankful I chose to mark your hands and not your forehead. Now, follow me...I have a lot to do today and I can't wait to begin having you permanently under my feet."

I followed this long-haired, leather-clad, high-heeled goddess into her bedroom to begin my first day as her personal footslave. My days of fantasies were over...no longer did I have to read about other guys being underfoot. I was going to experience this myself in all its glory. Little did I realize that there was very little glory to this type of work. My body would endure more than I thought possible as her personal footslave.