Knights of the Round Table

A Femdom poem by Foot Fetish Fan

The kingdom of Britannia is in dire need of chivalrous knights,
it has relied for ages on them to win multitudes of fights.

Forever has this land been plagued by a vile creature,
meanwhile the rabble is roused by all sorts of zealous preachers.

Those doomsayers proclaim that the end is nigh,
rattling of their sermons with their face held up to the sky.

Valiant heroes gather at the round table in Camelot,
competition has always been fierce for one of these spots.

The knights are clad in black plate, brown leather and even leopard fur,
the latter of the brave souls is an odd looking fellow for sure.

The king pounds his fist on the table, his ire at last manifests,
he wants the problem solved, he has had enough of the protests.

The ruler points to the map, indicating a bleak castle in the neighboring land,
he wants it done by the book, everything should unfold as planned.

To purge the evil once and for all,
even if it means that all of his men shall fall.

Bound by honour and oath to their ruler, the man in charge,
all of them vow that the monster won´t be any longer at large.

The room in the evening is filled with all kinds of boasts,
as the men of royal blood enjoy their tasty roasts.

In the morning the steeds are saddled, the daredevils are baying for blood,
they urge their horses along the roads, hoof prints are visible in the mud.

Several days later, they enter the territory of the fiend,
the creature needs to be removed and the land cleaned.

A pall of darkness shrouds this despicable domain,
will this experience drive any of them insane?

Putrid corpses hang from gnarled trees, all of them are male,
their confidence can´t be shaken, all of the victim´s frames were very frail.

Dense, white fog shrouds vision, impairs even loud noise,
the environment is unsettling, to adventure here was their choice.

Horrible sounds echo from all directions, mocking their endeavour,
perhaps their journey is a foolish undertaking? Nah, never ever!

At last they reached their destination, having already travelled a week,
the fog has mostly vanished, the lair of the abomination is antique.

It´s located on a mountain top, squatting like a vulture on a tree,
the knights pitch camp, intend to start the next day with a killing spree.

They sleep uneasy in their blankets, their dreams haunted by unfulfilled desire,
trousers are getting tight, at least their bodies are warmed by the campfire.

A new day dawns, our heroes navigate the mountain trail,
a fierce wind blows, their speed is reduced to that of a snail.

It took them a whole day to reach the castle without an accident,
though the gates to the keep are wide ajar to their bafflement.

The drawbridge has been lowered, beckoning their arrival,
their senses have to be keen, otherwise there will be no chance for survival.

They enter the gloomy estate and leave their horses in the stable,
the environment is foreboding as if it was ripped from a dark fable.

They search this godforsaken place with the aim to find the throne room,
none of them ever realized that it would ultimately lead to their doom.

Phantasms and illusions tempt the men on each step they take,
is their mind strong enough or will their resolve finally break?

Time passed by swiftly, at last they discover the seat of power,
it´s lavishly furnished, the clock strikes the witching hour.

They encounter a black-haired woman, surprise etched clearly on their faces,
she is unquestionable the most lovely specimen from all the known races.

Dressed in a high-collared black satin gown, a tiara rests comfortably atop her brow,
her long legs are clad in silk stockings, her appearance would challenge a celibate´s vow.

The group hesitates, she couldn´t hasten a kingdom´s demise,
little do they now, in reality she is a devil in disguise.

The king´s men start to squabble, what are they supposed to do?,
the witch queen reclines on her throne, lasciviously removing her high-heeled shoe.

Weaving her exposed sexy foot in the air while chanting an incantation,
the armed heroes witness the beginning of their own damnation.

At once the room is filled with a strong, pungent, moist stink,
this seductive scent was enough to move all of them over the brink.
Their willpower has been slowly sapped during their entire voyage,
the attack was channeled by taunts, dreams and illusions, it was quite a barrage.

The sorceress orders them to kneel and renounce their oath to their king,
she makes it clear that she is now their mistress, she will take them all under her wing.

She broke the men and turned them into needy boys,
they grovel in front of her, all jubilant to become one of her toys.

They form a queue, each kissing her stockinged foot with love and affection,
the witch smiles wickedly, savouring their humiliation with unbridled satisfaction.

After having inhaled her seductive perfume, they vigorously spewed their pants,
she laughed at their embarrassment, they truly never had a chance.

Her feminine wiles coupled with black magic forced every man to his knee,
she surveilled her handiwork, enjoying each knight´s discomfort with glee.

But the horror was not over, no it was just the foreplay of their end,
she had far more sinister plans in mind, more like eternal torment.

As soon as they soiled their trousers, evil magic began to work,
the brave men polymorphed into sexy shoes, now that was a true perk.

“From now on I will walk all over you with each of my steps,
you are all my foot bitches now, I just destroyed your reps”.

Their faces showed true horror at this revelation, though the witch didn´t care,
she looked at her new shoes with amusement, their mugs became the insoles of her new footwear.

Giggling with delight, she forced her soft foot into the leopard shoe,
while it´s face pitifully wept, this was more fun than to concoct a witch brew.

Compelled by her pheromones, the former knight had no choice,
he worshipped her foot in abundance, his ears were filled with her taunting voice.

She tried each pair on and then strode to her trophy room,
there was already her servant at work with his favourite broom.

This limitless room was filled with kinky shoes and boots placed on shelves,
it was rumoured to have been created millennia ago by a clan of dark elves.

Her new shoes followed her like ducklings, obedient in every way,
her janitor peeked a glance at her gorgeous feet, he hasn´t seen his mistress in the day.

The shoes jumped to their respective spots on the shelves like frogs,
their actions given prove to the fact that men can be as easily trained as dogs.

His mistress drew near and her subject knew how to behave,
he abased himself and kissed her feet in greeting, like a good slave.
She ruffled his hair affectionately, as if handling a pet,
he served her willingly, there was absolutely no regret.

The sorceress sauntered into her library, the bookshelves were made of tropical wood,
her servant already visited this place and cleaned it as best as he could.

The witch queen proceeded to write a letter to the man wearing the crown,
the content would upset him, possibly even make him frown.

“I loved your tribute as always and turned each of your knights into a nice shoe,
uphold your lineage´s bargain with me or else I will come for you.”