Lunch for my slave

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Lunch for my slaveLunch for my slaveI had ordered my slave to meet me for lunch at a fast food restaurant. Now I personally don’t eat that muck, but it’s certainly most suitable for my slave. It was quite a cold day so I was well wrapped up in my long fur coat, leather gloves and high, stiletto shoes. I had instructed my slave to wear only shorts and a tee shirt, and to sit at a table outside to await my arrival. Naturally, I kept the slave waiting for some time; waiting for its owner increases the slave’s fear and anticipation of what may happen.When I eventually arrived, I walked passed my slave and dropped a piece of paper detailing what it had to purchase. I sat down at an adjacent table. Slave picked up the paper from the ground and eventually returned with a tray consisting of a burger, fries, a cup of coffee for me and an empty paper cup. Slave put the tray down in front of me and returned to its place at the next table. I slowly sipped my coffee watching my slave, head bowed, staring at the table as I’d instructed. Casually, I half chewed a couple of the fries before spitting them out onto the ground near the slave. ‘Get’ I ordered. My slave bent down a picked the two soggy chips off the floor and placed them on the table. ‘Eat’. Slave’s head lowered and began licking the fries from the table top as I had izmir escort previously instructed it to do. The next fries I merely dropped onto the ground and ground them into the dirt with my high heels. ‘Get’ I again said. Once more, my slave retrieved the trodden fries and I kicked it two or three times while it was trying to sc**** up all the remains. This was repeated a few times as I finished my coffee. My slave looked distraught as I got up and walked into the restaurant with the empty paper cup. ‘Stay’ I ordered as I walked, not looking at my slave. When I returned from the toilet, the cup was nearly full. I could see the look of horror on my slave’s down turned face as I sat down and ordered slave to fetch another coffee. Slave scurried off back inside and soon returned with another cup of hot coffee for me. Meanwhile, the burger and remaining fries were getting nice and cold. Smoking and sipping my fresh, hot coffee, I casually took the burger apart and poured some of my liquid from the paper cup onto the two bun halves. Slowly it sank in as I flicked the cigarette ash on top. Then more was applied until it was lovely and moist. I could see my slave watching intently out of the corner of its eye as I stubbed my cigarette out on the burger before spitting on it and replacing it inside the bun. Next, I dropped escort izmir it on the ground, and spiked it neatly with the heel of my shoe. Slave let out a low groan. I smiled as I sipped my coffee and crossed my legs with the burger still impaled on my heel. A few people passed by during this time and one guy even said, ‘excuse me, but you’ve got some food stuck on your shoe’. ‘Yes, I know’, I replied, ‘it’s for my slave there’. He grinned, glanced at my slave and walked away. (I wonder if he was in some way jealous ? If so, what a missed opportunity for him – I would have really enjoyed humiliating two at once !). Replacing my heels on the ground, I wiped my shoe sole on the still impaled bun. ‘Fetch’. Slave stood up and had to kneel down in order to try a retrieve the impaled burger. Naturally, I didn’t make it particularly easy as it was firmly under my shoes. ‘Please Madam’ slave implored quietly. ‘Speak up slave, I can’t hear you’. ‘Please Madam, may Your slave remove the food from Your Shoes’ Slowly I lifted my shoe toe, (it must have seemed ages for my slave, kneeling under the table), so it could carefully slide the burger off my heel. Slave placed the now cold, soggy burger on the bare table. Sitting down again, I watched my slave staring at it, with the heel hole neatly pierce through the middle. izmir escort bayan I picked up the paper cup and knocked the remaining fries onto the floor with my elbow. I got up and trod on them as I moved across to sit opposite my slave. Just pointing my gloved to the trodden mess I ordered slave to ‘get’.I placed the sharp heels of my shoes onto slave’s trainers, grinding and digging them until my slave started to squirm in pain. In front of my slave was a pile of trodden French fries, a soggy burger and a cup half full of my delicious liquid. ‘Time for lunch slave’ I said. I watched as my slave licked and sucked and chewed the mutilated food and drank the contents of the paper cup, all the time pressing my sharp heels onto the top of its feet. Slave was nearly crying by the time it had finished. I smiled; I’m really enjoying this I thought to myself.I got up, making sure my heels gave one last dig. ‘Follow’ I walked back to my car with my slave dutifully following behind. Slave opened the car door, I sat with my shoes outside on the ground. Again I merely pointed to them. My slave knelt down and kissed each shoe toe in turn. ‘Not good enough slave’, I said, ‘the heels and soles need cleaning. I was delighted to hear another soft groan as my slave set about the task. When I was at last satisfied, I kicked it out of the way to shut the door. Lowering the window before driving off I said, ‘nice coffee, must do this again soon’. Through the mirror, I could see my slave getting to its feet. ‘Oh yes, I said aloud, really must do this again’ !

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