A day in the life of a slave.

A day as a slave.

In the morning after I wake up, I should have a slave ready to put my socks on my feet for me while I drink coffee and start my day. I’d use you as a foot rest as I watch the morning news. After that as I’m ready to leave I put your leash and collar on and walk you down the street like the disgusting dog that you are. Every time that I step in mud, poop, dirt or anything that could dirty or damage my boots, it’s your job to use your tongue to lick it off and out of in-between the lugs of my boots. Every time we are about to enter a building it is your job to not only open doors for me but also be my door mat so I don’t drag dirt in running my image. Of course the entire outing I would be giving you commands, as in sit, stay, walk, talk etc. You shall obey and do exactly as you are told in hope that someone will comment on how well behaved and trained you are. That is when you would have earned a treat. In a little bowl sits in the corner designated to your lifestyle in which my toe nails are waiting for you as your lunch. Assuming that you would be thirsty you may only drink the sweat off of my feet after that long walk you took. But you enjoy the walk because being on your hands and knees feels all to right to you. After lunch you become my foot rest while I have my afternoon smoke. After a few puffs the ash starts to accumulate on the end of my smoke. Not wanting to get up from this oh so comfortable position, I decide to just use your mouth as an ashtray. But that nasty face you just made earned you a punishment. Now you are not only a foot rest and ash tray, but you are not allowed to swallow or spit the ash out until I am completely done, the punishment if you don’t listen would be to drink bong water. If you do succeed in not swallowing the ash in your mouth you might get lucky enough for me to burn you with my cigarette, or even put it out on/in your (use your imagination). For dinner you are only feed scraps and fat from the food in which I have already eaten from. And are only permitted to drink bodily fluids in which I have drained for you myself. In the off chance I have done something to make myself sweaty I would whip my sweaty arm pits on your mustache so all day long you have to walk around with the stench of my salty sweaty pit stank. Assuming you were well behaved and a good little pet you would get the treat of taking my boots to the corner to lick clean and sniff until bed time. In which you remove the socks that I have worn all day, and rub my feet before taking the socks with you to bed as your little souvenir.

But of course this will never happen because you are a useless piece of shit that couldn’t even have enough guts to pay for a chat session let alone an entire day.

I’ve got plenty of these stories, and I even have a few mad libs I could throw together if anyone is interested….