The Thrill of Defeat Ch. 09

I'm open, eager, vulnerable, available, a cash cow and a foot whore, a maid and a footrest, I'm part of the estate, I can't stop rubbing to these thoughts, I can't come without permission, I can't slow down, I'm so wet, taking what Anbar sees fit to give me... or take away...

"I'm getting myself a couple new games on Steam. Or five," Anbar says. "Full price, of course. I'm not a cheap cunt."

The throaty moan that comes out of me is like something out of this world, a wail of desperation and fear and arousal, intermingling with one another. I'm so mind-fucked that I can't tell one from the other anymore.

"Ohh, I could get myself a Steam Deck! As a gift from you, of course," she says. "Alia does always say I need new clothes, too. Let's see if there's anything on Zalando..."

Tears fill my eyes at literally every single penny I've ever owned being washed down the drain.

Because I don't own them anymore. People own things. Owned things don't own things. Owned things don't cum without permission. God, I'm so close...

"You have a simple brain," Anbar says, as the toes of her right foot clamp my nose shut, and the left foot presses harder against my throat. "You don't need all that oxygen."

I immediately begin to buck and convulse under the weight, not because my air supply is being restricted, but because I'm circling around the edge of climax, my body literally shaking with electricity.

"I'm going to max out this credit card," Anbar says, and the thought sends a spike of pure stimulation straight to my clit. "I'm going to leave you financially ruined. We'll get you to the point that you literally wouldn't have the means to survive if you tried to break free. You'd be out in the streets, with no money, no credibility, and no future, whoring yourself out for a meal. Your only choice is to stay here with us, Zainab. For life."

The sheer terror I feel is too all-encompassing for words to capture. I'm theirs, oh God I'm theirs, forever and ever and ever, and -

"Cum to that," Anbar says. "If you can."

And I can, and I do.

But maybe most importantly, I realize as the pleasure slams against me in shockwaves like an explosive decompression, a part of me wants to.

***

This evening is for Alia.

When I first started climaxing over the ruins of my own life, it felt... devastating. But now, it's like an already-leveled city being pounded into rubble again and again.

Everything is already destroyed, and yet, somehow, the bombs keep falling, and the damage keeps growing.

Alia has instructed me to crouch before the door, awaiting her return like an eager dog, and I don't even find it within myself to question this as anything other than normality. That's what I am, isn't it? Alia's puppy. She deserves to get home to my enslaved, prostrate form. It's the welcome she should receive every day.

After each new orgasm, I feel more and more diminished. Truthfully, my Mistresses are the hammer, and the foot scent is the anvil, and in between there is less and less of me as I am pounded away into dust.

It's a horrible fate, the utter defeat, captivity, and slavery that is too cruel to even imagine. And yet, I perk up in slutty and worshipful enthusiasm, when the key turns into the lock, and Alia makes her grand entrance.

As always, she's breathtakingly beautiful -- her hair coiffed to perfection, her cocktail dress clinging to her in the most enticing of ways, one nyloned leg kept slightly ahead of the other, showing her lithe and slender elegance.

"Your Majesty," I whisper, worshipfully, throwing myself into the welcoming ritual.

I place a soft, humble kiss on the tip of Alia's heels, and then proceed along the length of the shoes -- carefully. These shoes are worth a lot more than I am, and even in kissing them, it pays to be delicate.

Alia thoughtfully lifts each foot in turn, allowing me to kiss the street dirt off the soles. And because these are heels, I also pop the heel into my mouth, briefly sucking each heel like it's a slender cock.

Then I take the shoe off, offering Alia her slippers.

"Thank you for driving me stupid, Your Majesty," I whisper, concluding the ritual.

"You've always been stupid," Alia replies as she always does, and there is a degree of affection in the way she pats my head, like I truly am her dog.

"I heard you had lots of fun today! How much IQ do you reckon you've dropped today? Haha!"

"A lot, Your Majesty," I say subdued, casting my defeated gaze downward, because the truth is, I'm not pandering to her sadism. I'm being sincere. After every new orgasm, I go ga-ga for longer.

I wonder what will happen, when the after-effects last long enough to melt into the next orgasm. Will they compound one another? Just how dumb am I going to become?

Dumb enough that I won't be able to ask these questions anymore?

"That's more like it," Alia says, clapping her hands. "But don't you think it's time that you asked me?"

I gulp, nodding. In a way, Alia's conditions are the easiest to meet -- she just wants me to profess my love, adoration, and inferiority towards her. But in a different way, they're also the hardest.

She was my friend, once. And the kind of brutal honesty she's looking for feels like I'm having to eviscerate the worst, emotional, insecure side of me every single time. And each time, in a different way.

Fortunately, I'm not so dumb that I am without ideas. At least not yet. One summer when we were in high school, she spent an afternoon riding -- not a regular activity or anything, it was a flight of fancy. She took me with her, which of course I never could have afforded on my own.

I remember she really liked the feeling. So... here goes nothing.

"Your Majesty," I say, breathless, "you shouldn't have to walk all the way to your room. May I please carry you?"

"Carry me?" Alia says, arching an eyebrow, the gears turning in her head. When she realizes what I mean, she laughs out loud. "Do you mean, like, a pony ride? Seriously? Haha! Oh, we're definitely doing that!"

Alia's eager, girlish, yet cruel enthusiasm always puts me on the back foot. Before I can say anything else, her butt lands heavily against my back, making me tilt this way and that as I try to maintain my balance on all fours. Lithe or not, she's still heavy enough that my knees and hands, already devastated by day after day of hard work, begin to shake.

And of course, my sunburnt back hurts so bad when she slams against it, that tears form in my eyes. But I bite back any protests, and steady myself, ready to carry my owner to her room.

Before I can take the first step, Alia extends her legs over my back, hooking them in front of my face. This makes my balance even more precarious... but also intoxicates me with her enthralling foot scent.

"Here are the only reins I need to steer you," Alia says, giggling. "Come on, pony! Follow the foot! Yee haw!"

I blush, imagining myself like the proverbial donkey forever chasing the dangling carrot, but it's true. I take each forward shuffle with renewed enthusiasm, just because Alia's feet beckon, their scent leading me like an invisible leash.

My reins...

A saddle-broken girl, utterly steered and controlled by feet. And it works. Whenever Alia's feet happen to brush against my cheeks, the sensation of the taut, smooth nylons on my skin is downright divine, an electrical current that drives down my body from my face and straight to my pussy.

The crawl down the hallway is painfully slow, and by the time I reach the bottom of the stairs, I start to think I might have miscalculated.

I'm breathing laboriously. My back, knees and hands hurt so much. My balance is awful as I take one step after the other. Oddly, Alia isn't impatient though.

That alone should raise my suspicions.

"You know," she says as I struggle to negotiate a step, my knees threatening to slip off the edge. "It's a real problem that you're so lazy. Anbar only gets to max out your credit card once, because you have no money."

I grunt, barely able to listen. I don't have enough brainpower to crawl up the stairs and converse at once, and I know Alia loves that.

"So... we want you to get a job."

That stops me cold.

A job? Away from this house?

A million questions begin to swirl through my mind. How will I even get to graduation day, if I have to split my time between being a maid here, and working somewhere?

Who would even hire me? I barely look human at this point.

And... would Alia and Anbar really risk having me eight hours away from the home?

I stop halfway up, sweating and panting. What a silly thought. Even if the foot scent wore off -- which is doubtful -- what am I going to do, where am I going to go? They've nullified my financial scores, severed my connections with the rest of humanity, conditioned me to associate extreme emotional sadism with arousal...

Maybe that's the point? Does Alia want me to reach the end of each shift and crawl right back to her like a pet, deliberately turning down freedom each day of my life?

"Of course, this would be a job fit for your station," Alia says. "Think flipping burgers. And every single cent will go to us. After all, we own your bank account! Haha!"

I whimper in humiliation and despair. They want me slaving away in a fast food chain, so I can scrape together just enough money for Anbar to buy videogames she can already afford? Why is it so unfair? Why does the thought of being a workhorse slave make my traitorous pussy so wet?

By the time I reach the first floor, and begin the last stint of the crawl to Alia's room, I'm out of energy to speak, let alone comment on Alia's newfound arrangement.

Besides, she's not asking for my opinion. She's simply instructing me, and there's no doubt that I will obey her. No doubt at all.

When we finally make it into her room, me on all fours and her perched royally atop my back, the shame and humiliation is almost forgotten. One of the few bright spots in my horrific daily life is drawing closer. Alia might grant me the ability to cum.

Please, please, please...

"I give you permission to play with yourself," Alia says, "even to cum, if you manage. But I want you to lick my feet while you do it, bitch."

Of course I don't hesitate, lapping at her nyloned feet and revelling in the taste, but I also whimper in confusion. Isn't she going to get off my back? I'm on all fours, how can I touch myself if...

My eyes widen in horror at the realization. Alia laughs above me.

"Poor, poor Zainab," she says as her feet dance around my face, chased by my eager tongue. "You really are dumb, took you a second to catch up, didn't it? In fairness you did catch up. That means there's still more IQ for us to drain, though! Haha!"

No no no no, I think desperately in-between energetic licks of her nyloned feet. I have permission to cum, from Alia herself, I have to take advantage, and yet I can't use my hands! My eyes dart this way and that around the room, as if looking for some surface I might hump against.

God, I'm so stupid. As if there was a magically protruding dildo off a wall or whatever. It's just, between the foot scent and my cunt throbbing and the day I've had, I can't think, I...

"Breathe in," Alia says, pressing one foot against my nose while the other sneaks into my mouth. "You love me. Of course you do. You have a desperate crush on me. You want me to be happy. And you'll give up anything to make that happen. You already have."

I try to muble a desperate I love you around her toes, but it comes out as ridiculous and muffled.

"You're a puppet on a string, Zainab. My string. I control you to a degree you don't even realize yet. I'm not just playing with you, right now. I want to prove a point."

What... surely she couldn't mean...?

"Do you doubt me, after all this time?" Alia says, smearing foot sweat and my own saliva all over my face with her feet. "Do you really think I can't make you cum with no touch? That my beautiful voice isn't enough?"

Her voice is beautiful, and my cunt is pulsing, and my brain is so simple that maybe I just don't get it, and her wonderful foot scent is right in my nostrils and I'm lapping at her nyloned feet like it's the best thing I could ever do in life, and oh god is that, am I really about to...

"Cum," Alia says. "Cum for me."

And I do, and this is no earthquake, no explosive decompression, it's a nuke going off at the very epycenter of my nervous system. Everything shuts down as the pleasure radiates outward, brighter than the sun, all the more shocking because it's so sudden, coming with no touch, no direct stimulation, only her voice, the voice of my owner, my deity...

I crash against the ground, my body utterly spent, my muscles convulsing, Alia carefully balancing atop me, her feet firmly planted on my face, and all my intelligence gushing out of my cunt. And that... that's when I finally get to say it, with my last bit of energy, right before my eyes close and I slide into a sleep of utter, complete exhaustion.

"Thank you, Alia," I whisper. "I love you."