D.facdn.net



From Peasant to Paw Pet:Part TwoSynopsis: After refusing to serve a wealthy wolf merchant, he returns the next day with his personal body guard and forces you to really, truly, serve them.Disclaimer: This story contains sexually explicit scenery that may disturb some readers. Included themes are:–Paw Worship–Musk/Sweat/Filth–Soft Trampling–Multiple Doms–POV PerspectiveCONTINUING FROM LAST TIME:The sounds of other townsfolk can be heard yonder. Oh how unaware they are of the cruel emasculating 'justice' taking place within this little workshop. With no cue needed the wolf plucks his heel out of your mouth dragging out many strands of saliva in its wake. Now with nothing to stop you, you gag and gasp and spit out the crude flavour of foot. He stands now between you and the white marble bench. To your body's earnest relief the Labrador walks off your back and steps away too. You let out a sigh of defeat."P-please... no... more!"Deo and his soldier exchange a smirk. "I heard the word 'more'. Let's go with that. Cy, roll this rug onto its back. If it refuses, kick it hard."Blatantly the wolf's words are enough to scare you into submission and thus you roll over without the Labrador's aid. Resistance is mentally exhausting. At this rate you just want them to have their fun and leave forever."There, I obeyed!" You exclaim with a pinch of excitement. Are you really trying this hard to impress your bullies? Do you care for their approval? Perhaps their tactics are starting to manipulate you.Regardless, now you are to stare at the ceiling with the two animals towering over you much like at the beginning. Deo takes a seat upon the bench with his paws positioned on either side of your head. He peers down at you from between his legs with that ever-present, infuriating, wolfish grin. Without ever breaking his gaze on you - without ever blinking those luminescent golden eyes - Deo gives his soldier a new command. "The peasant is looking tense. Soften him with a soothing stomach trample while he... tends to me. It will be a lesson in resistance and humility."Your whines have no effect. There is no room for mercy. The black Labrador is much too obliging and immediately he steps one foot onto your belly, sinking down. As a reflex you tighten and clench your abdomen muscles and try to deflect the oncoming pressure. Cy proves to be forever nonchalant as he lifts the other leg powering every ounce of weight down into you. You wheeze and struggle in such a futile way which only serves to entertain them. At least the pressure balances out once he lowers that hovering leg into you too. Cy tests what a supple mat your stomach is by tilting his weight back and forth, transferring it between the heels and balls of his feet. A gruff sound of satisfaction grunts from him. His glare is like two sharp arrows piercing into you."He's softer than the previous few. Weaker. Think he'll last?""I count on it," Deo replies, winking at your reddening flustered face. "Perhaps keep it at a light trample. Forget not that you broke the last one..."Only now does the Labrador, at long last, smile fondly. Softly he begins kneading your abdomen. You flinch and slip out a wheeze with every footfall. The canine starts to walk on the spot with withheld strength. It's manageable but entirely degrading. Your defenceless stomach is like clay to be worked and moulded beneath his shapely sandal bottoms. The noises imbued are ones of thudding, rustling and peeling. This dog plans to tenderise you underfoot, instilling the fact that this is where you belong. One leg at a time he sinks into either side of your body marking the front of your rags in dusty chalky sandal prints just as he had earlier, across your back. You fight to stay tensed and try passionately not to succumb.Deo is overjoyed to see you suffering. That impish expression never changes, though he does offer you a reprieve from the punishing tramples. "My this does look an unsightly thing to endure. You must be begging for an escape! Right?""Y-yes!" You cough, winded as Cy gently stampedes over the same precise areas. The wolf raises his paw now over your face and curls his toes from within the sandal, forcing the leather to bend and arch over your face. Undoubtedly his sole must be scrunching and trapping sweat in its folds. You're granted a close viewing of the tread; coated in a thin black veneer of filth that has engraved itself in certain creases."My offer is mere: Lick these clean and afterwards Cy shall leave you be. I expect every inch to be gleaming. Fair?"Technically he doesn't allow you any time to make your decision. Immediately he drops his paw low enough to fill your vision but not press upon your face. Somehow you have to mentally block out the Labrador's heavy footfalls and focus only on the wolf's unclean footwear. You do it for the sake of your organs.Tossing integrity aside your jaws pry and from them comes a reluctant tongue, wet and pink and unhappy about its task. Because Deo sits behind your head his heel is positioned over your forehead. Your nose lies in the shadow of his arch. The ball and toe end of the footwear curves over your mouth and chin. His feet conveniently match the full length of your face.With a shudder you lean inwards and push your tongue into the sole, touching upon firm material. The taste is minimal at first. In order to appease this wolf you roll your head back and slurp up the instep. Crumbs of soft earth and other indistinguishable muck are wiped off by the force of your tongue and they stick to your taste buds, each as miniscule as one another. With a scrunched wincing face you start to lick up and down his sandal in long columns. The pacing is timed well so that you finish each lick between the pummelling vibrations of Cy's feet, (which have now numbed your torso). Deo waggles, tilts and readjusts his paw position so as to welcome the full unbridled access for your tongue.Over the *Thump! Thud! Thump!* of you being trample matted, Deo relaxes by shifting his rump deeper into the bench. His tail is swishing joyfully and he moans a gentle, "Mmmm."Some of your own saliva droplets fall back into you as clean out the dark grime from his tread. Reproducing the saliva is a demanding task thus you find your mouth drying whenever your tongue spends too long licking his sandal at one time. Naturally you find yourself swallowing acrid flavours of earth, grass and warm leather. Unbeknownst to you a solid twenty minutes pass by while you lap away under the one same sole. Your tongue must dig into the tread to work the muck out but each time you shiver. Your stomach would be knotting if only Cy weren't still kneading it flat underneath his sturdy figure. You feel bereft of your breath and empty of all honour. These two animals have overpowered you that easily.Midway through a soul-hurting slurp the leg is suddenly retracted away. Warm sunlight pats your weary face as the paw slaps to the ground back where it once was, beside your head. The sodden squelch is enough to indicate how cleanly you'd licked the sandal."Hm," The lilac wolf contemplates, "An average effort so far. With hope you'll improve after this next attempt."Once again he casts his other paw directly over your face and awaits his pampering. Once again you set about licking and wiping your tongue through the sole grime. The tongue bath is just as rigorous and time consuming as the last. Cy continues to trample your body with graceful dominance. Deo continues to suspend his paw while you coat it with fresh saliva, tainting your tongue with a storm of dark colour and unsavoury taste. Another twenty minutes passes yet there is no value to this time spent other than what your forced subservience has achieved, which is a cleaned pair of one wolf's sandal bottoms.Just as your jaw cannot stay ajar any longer, just as your tongue feels sore and throbbing, just as your torso cannot fortify itself against the footfalls for a second longer, Deo bestows his generosity and gestures for the soldier to step off you. At the same time he moves his leg to the right and sets it back down beside your head. You lie there a groaning, quivering mess with your languid tongue lolled out the corner of your mouth. It's enough to have you contemplate your rudeness to Deo the previous day. After this lesson you'll never deny another customer again no matter how large their hubris, no matter how callous their attitude. And to think... these bullies aren't yet finished with you."On your knees!"By now you are fully obedient. You roll and scramble and kneel frantically before this wolf of mystic hue. He stands to his feet and veers over you with authoritative demeanour. Your face is uncomfortably close to his crotch; however that crotch is thankfully hidden below his flow of white and gold garment. In a gesture rich with condescendence Deo puts a hand on the dome of your head and pets you gently, rubbing his palm and brushing your forehead with his thumb. "Good pet."You blush. You feel small. Somehow despite all the venomous hatred you should have for him, his praise fills you with satisfaction. It's a dawning revelation that you feel better whenever you've impressed him. You melt into a smiling stupor as he continues to pet your head. Your stomach pain is nothing in comparison."What would a truly loyal pet say back to me right now, I wonder?" He asks."Thank you?" You meekly suggest."Hmm... try again," He says with a warm squeeze of your head."Uh, um... h-how... how may I serve you more?"Both Labrador and wolf chuckle. "A pet says nothing. They only obey."Deo pats your hot pink cheek and wanders off to a nearby table within the room. From it he collects one of your small ceramic vases - about as tall as a femur - and strolls back to you. He turns the fat piece of pottery upside down and places it on the floor before your kneeling body. Its flat smooth base looks ready to be used as a pedestal. Cy knowingly drags over a wooden chair to place it near and beside you, precisely to your right... a leg's stretch of distance away.Bewildered you glance over your shoulder to watch but Deo holds both your cheeks and controls your head back towards him, to face forward. He uses more taunting as a distraction. "Perhaps you needn't have licked my shoe soles clean so soon. I'll only be sullying them later as I walk about the town. Bah, there's always later! You'll just have to lick them clean again when I retire for the night."To your surprise you find yourself nodding gingerly. Maybe you were already addicted to the sweet nectar of praise?Deo interrupts your thoughts with a long relieved sigh. "Regardless of that, I best believe you should lick my insoles clean too. The job isn't over until it's done, yes?"The wolf's theories about justice, consequence and the favour of the Gods seem to have faded far into the background. By now he simply dominates you for the enjoyment and ego inflation. Here he slips his paws out of his sandals yet the upturned vase obstructs your view, until Deo charitably pucks them up and places them atop that vase base directly in front of you. An immense volume of sweat exists upon his soles and insoles though you can only see the latter. Droplets glimmer in various sizes across the entire span of both insoles, filling the bowl-like indents of his heels, ball and toes. Hot sour stinking vapours wisp away from this undulant surface of heavily worn leather. Deo takes a barefoot step back and stands proudly like a chef presenting his finest gourmet meal. Condensation paw prints appear on the floor where the wolf was just standing. They are damp and faint. The colour has rained from your face. You try to gulp down the dread. Somehow these insoles are grimier than the proper soles, with smudgy jet black painting down perfect imprints. Even the ever stoic Cy crinkles his muzzle.Grinning wildly, Deo steps backwards over the bench and motions for his guard's attention. "Cy, I request you be the one to sit on this bench in front of our peasant. He finds you all too intimidating. Perhaps it'll motivate him?""As of you?" The Labrador asks."I'll assume this wooden seat you've so conveniently placed beside him. My legs tire and I admit, he sits in the best position to be my footrest. You be in front of him. I'll be beside him."The two canines nod and begin to trade positions. Cy staunchly walks over and sits upon the bench, glaring forward to you. His paws set down almost exactly on the condensation prints left by the wolf. You listen to the resonance of Deo's paws as they slap and peel with slick elegance while he strolls over to that precarious wooden chair. Timber creaks. He settles in. Travelling from marble bench to wooden seat is a trail of similarly smudgy prints. The musk airing from his freshly revealed paws is now stirring throughout the room. It is a stale musk with notes of hot Swiss cheese.Your heart races in your chest. Your thoughts are more tangled than Christmas lights.For a moment you try to look to the right - to Deo - for guidance. Cy instantly snatches your attention by clicking loudly and barking, "Hey!"With a jolt you look deep into his moss green eyes. Your lips hang ajar but you're too nervous to speak. Despite Deo being the evident leader of the two, the Labrador has quicker control over you. It's the fear factor, mainly."Hands and knees, now. Your owner wants a footrest. Get on all fours and keep a levelled back. You'll lick his sandals afterward he's happy."With a small groan you position yourself as ordered, still facing the Labrador and staying perpendicular to the wolf. You move from a kneel to a feral dog pose waiting for the next command. You haven't forgotten how willing Cy is to trample you into the ground. He's practiced it so many times throughout his military career he can practically call it an art form.Now that your back provides a more even altitude than when you were kneeling, Deo smiles with contentment and extends his legs out forward. Two heels dump against your back muscles and make themselves home. The lupine's legs are bare from the knees down and soon decide to cross over one another, upon you. They weigh a moderate amount. Their sweat has mostly been dried or rubbed off by now yet his black pads, (a vivid contrast to the light purple soles), still gleam with the residue. They continue to emanate heat. This is officially the first time you've been implemented as another anthro's footrest, leaving your pride in pieces. Deo has never looked so cocky as he does now with his legs crossed upon you and with his hands interlocked behind his head.Cy sees that his employer is now settled and so he growls to you the following command: "Waste no more time, worm. You will lick his sandals clean immediately. Resist and you shall have to do it with me standing upon your back."Heeding the dog's word you dip your head down to the sandals, laid across the makeshift pedestal beneath your chin. Your sore tongue unfurls and persistently laps around the perimeter of the sandal heels. You sponge up the black deep indents and mop your tongue around them in circular motions. Cy is hunched far forward surveying your efforts. He watches your tongue glide over the foot filth and gradually go from pink to black as the muck finds a new place to call home. The taste is tart and faintly salty, and sweet too. The smell is like campfire smoke in your nostrils. Your eyes are fighting the upside of tears which come naturally when you inhale this mustard musk.Deo isn't interested in watching. He's lost in thought at the sight of his own splaying toes. His heels grind on your back.You can hear the deep chested breaths of the Labrador ahead of you. So far you've licked all over the base half of one sandal. Cy sees clear saliva tracks have swept through the grime but plenty of small black streaks still remain so he decides to lend a helping hand, in a very literal way. Cy stretches one arm forward and drops his hand atop your head where he clenches hold and drives your face down into the insoles. Without a word he controls the very directions and motions of your head, forcing your tongue to slurp and wash over and over the same areas. This happens with the second sandal too. Eventually the leather straps, (which would bind over Deo's paws when worn), obstruct your path. Cy is helpful enough to turn the sandals 180°, pointing the grubby sinuous toe ends of each footwear toward you. Still with one hand firmly gripping the crown of your head he guides your mouth into those rank toe flavoured pits of leather. The musk has more of a tangy punch to it here and the flavours are no less cheesy. It takes a vital fifteen minutes of grunting, slurping and swallowing before cleanly results start to show. You feel dead inside. These flavours will eventually be washed from your mouth but it'll be impossible to wash them from your memory.Deo uncrosses his paws and crosses them again the opposite way, wobbling one idly. With calm closed eyes the lilac wolf asks aloud, "How go the efforts?"After this amount of tongue bathing the insoles are empirically cleaner. That hasn't stopped Cy from grazing your face against their saliva lubricated surfaces though. He only releases your head at the sound of Deo's voice, for which you are thankful."It's impressive what a threatened mind can achieve," He solemnly replies, leaning back to fix his posture. "What do we make of him now?""I feel but pure comfort here," The wolf responds, "Have your own fun with him. Simply keep him in this pose. He makes for such a relaxing footrest."You gulp. A smile spreads across that black canine face. It is rare for Cy to show happy emotion. When he does it always means trouble for his victims.The soldier pinches the dampened heels of Deo's saturated sandals. He lifts them off the pedestal and places them aside upon the floor. With cheeks burned red by shame you look again to his green eyes and search for the mercy in them. You find no such mercy. His grin curls more sinister than before."What a shame I cannot exercise my acrobatic jumping on his pitiful body... but I will make do with this."Joyfully the dog stretches one ebony leg forward. He pushes his paw past the side of your head and props it atop your shoulder instead. The side of his shin brush against your cheek. You can feel the edge of the leather strap that helps clasp his protective bronze shin-plate into place. You now support three paws using you as a stool but what of the fourth? Cy brings it directly towards your face halting a bare inch away. You're confronted with the tall broad view of his sandal sole as it lingers in your breathing space."What are you?" The Labrador queries.At first you want to express confusion although such a thing might warrant a hard kick in the face. To avoid risking a broken nose you try to think of an appropriate answer."D-dirt?"There is a heart stopping pause. "Agreeable. Now kiss my footwear." He says very bluntly.Timidly you stretch your head in for a kiss upon the faded, smoothened murky leather. These are the very shoes that have been used to softly trample you all afternoon. The impact is soft but you make up for it by kissing loudly, to illustrate that you're obeying. His foot doesn't pull away nor does he say anything. You can only deduce that he meant 'kiss' as a plural. You lean in and kiss right into the centre of the tread where his arch would be. More silence follows and so you crane your head to plant a third wet kiss higher near the toe area."Hmph," Cy grunts. Your heart rate elevates and you wrongly assume you'll be free to cease this sole kissing. Distressingly Cy isn't even focused on you at all. He begins a candid conversation with Deo about unrelated topic, as if you aren't even there. For roughly five minutes the two animals discuss topics of local politics and estate without ever dignifying you once. Out of instinct you perpetually kiss at the Labrador's shoe during every one of those minutes. It astounds you that he has the leg joint strength to keep the leg fully extended and suspend in all that time. His other paw - as well as Deo’s paws - stays slack over your shoulder and back. By now your arms tremble and your wrists are aching red. Just when you wonder how long you'll be ignored, the conversation between dog and wolf ends. Cy turns his concentration back to you. You plant yet another in the myriad of kisses left to his sole."You still kiss at my feet? I was waiting upon you to stop long ago," He teases untruthfully. "Though since you so clearly love them, you may have more."At this juncture Cy pushes his foot against your face and grazes it upwards, with force, almost steamrolling your nose flat in the process. You let out a moan and he wipes his foot back down your face. It tilts forwards and exhibits four thick black toes in plain view. Your nose faces the middle toe crotch directly. The front lip of his sandal presses against your two lips. Deo watches on with one opened eye, though from his seat he looks mostly toward the right of your head."Open your mouth," Cy orders.Shamefully you submit and part your jaws. It's just enough space for the soldier to slide his paw closer and insert the end of his sandal into your mouth. While your lips slide over greasy unwashed toe indents and sole too, his toes also cram forward into your nose. The toes are forcefully parted and spread. Sweat streaked, sticky hot black pads crawl up over your cheeks. Your nose becomes the slope for the toe crotch to wrap over. Claws glint closely below your eyes. You become pacified by the width of juicy sandal leather. Like a cooked steak it is thick yet succulent to sink your teeth into. It bends in your mouth. It pushes underneath your tongue forcing the wet muscle to swipe helplessly across his toe indents. Somehow these taste stronger than Deo's, like potent garlic, most Likely because it's Deo's sandals that usually get the cleaning while Cy's have been neglected. All you can do is suckle away and try not to drool too messily.Your brain is frying, much like your nostrils. Hefty canine toes grope at your face flesh. The soaking middle toe gap pushes and squeezes over your nose. The four toes feel sticky on your cheeks as they toast the skin again their warm pads. Narrow bourns of sweat creep down your face, while an aura of tepid musky air envelops you.Off to the side Deo observes how easily you're subdued under Labrador paw. A bulge rises between his legs, under the himation robe, and subtly he strokes it with his hand. An indeterminate amount of time passes with your red flustered face being so expertly squished and molested by Cy's toes alone.The Labrador is sitting back, impressed by the sight in front of him. His armoured arms are crossed over his chest. "Tell me again. What are you?"You try to mumble the word 'dirt' except with a mouth crammed by sandal tip all you can achieve is a muffled incoherence."Bite down on the end of that sandal."You do as told. Once a firm grip is established Cy decides to slip his paw out of the sandal, using your mouth to hold the sandal still. Black toes slide back down your nose and cheeks. The entire paw retreats into the tunnel of overhead sandal straps, tugging the footwear but your mouth has steadfast grip. Finally his paw slips free into the clean fresh air. It is celebrated by a splaying and wiggling of his toes while the sandal now hangs limply from between your lips.Cy sighs with relief. He then clicks his fingers and says but one word. "Drop."Your jaw unlatches. The footwear falls out and slaps to the vase-turned-pedestal below before slipping off to the floor. Notably the rest of its insole is still soaked through in sweat and pad filth, save for the toe indents which have been sucked and salivated over.Deo - still using you as his loyal footrest - hasn't yet looked away from this scene of domination. He's been so distracted in fact that he has inadvertently stroked himself erect from under his robe.Before you can even wonder what the dog might do with that newly bared paw, Cy shoves it back into its rightful place and squishes your face in deep against its sweaty, garlicky, ebony sole. You see a rush of black. You feel a blast of furnace-like heat. Suddenly your features are being pressed, sunken and moulded into darkness. His pads are slippery and pliant enough to absorb you. His fur is splashed and matted. From jawline to hairline your face is masked under a total eclipse of canine paw sole. It's hot like a sauna. It's sensory overload. It becomes your reality and all you can see, smell, feel and taste is this Labrador's foot. The last remaining sense is that of hearing. This is what you hear:"What might be your plan here, soldier?""Plan?" Cy curiously replies to Deo, whilst now tucking his hands behind his head settling in for a long relaxation. "I intend to keep him here until you seek your turn.""Can he breathe?"Cy's expression is deadpan to the question. "Is it necessary? For now he breathes my pungent odour, nothing more. He hasn't the worth for clean air."Deo does agree with that last statement though a relevant memory comes to mind. "You ought to let him breathe eventually. It is still vital to the functions. Remember?""You said nothing of this that other time. The Gods were witness. You yourself asked I stand upon that lizard's face for plenty a minute.""A shame about him," The wolf mumbled dourly. "Those are debt payments we shan't get paid anytime soon... still, a lesson learned."These ruminations aren't solely meant to terrify you though it certainly has that effect. Your face is tingling and itching. It isn't long before you fathom this sensation to be Labrador paw sweat trickling down your features. His paw seems to fill every inch of your face, eye sockets included. The roasting heat has nowhere to circulate."You would have an easier time if you rested his chin and your heel upon that surface," Deo says lazily pointing to the upturned vase."A wise suggestion... I just might."Cy curls his toes through your hair capturing locks in his sweat-logged toe crotches. Once having taken hold of your head he lowers his leg and in turn lowers your head for you, in perfect synchronicity. His sole never leaves your face for a single moment. Simultaneously his heel and your chin land upon the ceramic surface. The pedestal is able to hold the weight thus relieving his leg of the strain of being suspended. Now he can keep you sole-stuck for much longer without the need to limber. He provides you no room to move. Your nose is squashed against dark arch and your lips suffer the same punishment at his heel. When you breathe you breathe only his richly scented musk.Deo persists with rubbing his crotch, teasing his shaft out of its sheath. The tenting shape is flagrantly in view. The Labrador is ambivalent though he tries not to speak a word about the provocative sight, until Deo asks with a huffing breath: "Is he licking? Might you ask him to lick?"Cy replies, "I want him not to lick but to simply know his place. He will merely smell and sniff until his brain feels like a puddle."Deo looks to the floor and sees his own two sandals, licked clean and discarded. He fixes a gaze back to his own long purple paws and spreads the toes. "An intrepid tactic. Mine ought to be worshipped too before their flavour is ridden. Such a waste it would be... but still I am willing to wait and let you resume your fun."The Labrador's dull green eyes stare into the topside of his paw. He feels your features budging and twitching against his sole. Four toes flex and splay over your forehead."Your other sandal stays worn, I see?" Deo prods the question. "One paw in a peasant's face is a paltry effort. How is he to take you seriously? Remove the other and show him the consequence of offending m- erh... the Gods."After a deep exhale Cy listens to the word of his employer. He draws back the unattended leg that so far had only been propped atop your shoulder. The leg pulls in, bending to rest on the crest of his other knee. With a grunt the armoured canine reaches for the paw and pulls on the sandal straps until one by one they slowly untether, flopping flaccidly down the sides leaving but the insole as the only remaining surface to touch the paw. Indolently Cy pinches the heel of that foot-printed leather and peels it away. He cannot remove the sandal without garnering a quiet noise of slick sweaty slurping as pads unglue from their indents, (at long last).For a moment the black paw stays resting upon his knee doing little more than airing out that zesty garlic musk. The atmosphere of your masonry workshop is now thick with the malodour of four bare canine feet, and their footwear. The Labrador doesn't discard his sandal just yet. He first brings it back to his face and takes a long sniff of its dank drippy insole. "Heh, yeah, he's being punished alright," He chuckles, chucking the sandal down to greet it's brethren on the floor.You stir from your musk-drunk stupor almost toppling forward when the darkness separates from your vision. Your eyes are blurring with the lack of focus. Cool air slaps your face as hot sole makes a well needed departure. Sweat strands connect your skin and Cy's padding for the briefest second. It seems like a reprieve... until you meet the view awaiting you. The Labrador has drawn his knees back to his chest and both bare soles aloft - like black portals to an inescapable void - displaying their long soles abreast of one another. There is a marginal gap between the legs where you can see that once more Cy is grinning deviously behind them. He takes no hesitation in ramming them forward. He takes only satisfaction."W-wait... nnmMRPH!" Your one chance to plead is snuffed under the two burying soles! They rush forth. They plant against your face together, side by side, without harm.It's the same as earlier only double the effect. The hot air is shoved forward and then cruelly pinned into you. Every feature, dip and contour of your victimized face is swallowed by the dual mass of two toasty dog paws. The asphyxiating stench is doubled. The temperature is twofold. The span they occupy is enough to hide every inch of face flesh, sparing only the ears and beyond.Now Cy is left to stare at the tops of both his paws as he looks down the length of his own relaxing body. He admires their handsome appeal; boasting internally about how well he has taken care of these appendages. It doesn't seem right that they should have to touch a face as unworthy as yours, yet it feels so right. Mostly the pressure is evened between them though there are moments when the Labrador subconsciously presses one foot in more than the other, before making the corrections."Let us ignore the fellow duties of the day," The wolf suggests. He uncrosses his paws once again and instead leaves them to sit separated over your backside. "The Gods will favour us more, should we lengthen this heretic's punishment.""Agreed," Says Cy, "I intend for this wretch to forget how fresh air smells."While the two deviate a wicked plan to break you to their whims, you stay patiently upon all fours inhaling the pungent aromas of Cy's soles. The air is unventilated and the breathing space almost doesn't exist. While sweaty pads squeeze against your features and foul murky prints become embedded in your flesh, you try to withstand the tight prickling in your lungs. It's like breathing poisonous gas, albeit an addictive one at that. As your senses numb over you hear the words of Deo."Let us experiment. We shall see how long we can keep him here before we grow restless."By the end of sixty long fulfilling minutes you remain as much of a footrest - from the side and the front - as ever. Your palms tingle numbly on the floor. Your knees ache. Your back sags and your head feels too heavy to keep up, even with the upturned vase supporting it. Your limbs tremble. Your dignity has collapsed and caved completely. You'll do anything they ask no matter how degrading because you have to face the reality that these two canines truly own you.It is a cloudless day dictated by a scolding summer sun, with no breeze to cool down the individuals of this cosy workshop room. The soldier's paws continue to rub fresh trickles of sweat into your face. You have only been allowed short gasps of oxygen every so often before your face is plastered in dog soles once again for extended durations. The breaks are few and far between. It's impossible by now to estimate how much of his musk you've inhaled through nose and mouth alike. You miss the sensation of untainted nostrils. You miss your skin not being made clammy and flattened.Throughout the last hour the canines have made sneering remarks and taunting comments to you, knowing you cannot say or do anything in return. They coax you with ideas of subservience. They convince you this is what you want. Bit by bit Deo and Cy crumble you as a person and rebuild you in the image of an ideal paw slave.Cy began repeating the same question, asking if you enjoyed this, to which you would nod and rub your face along his soles in the process. Eventually the questions became a statement. Cy would then tell you that you enjoyed this, to which you would still nod. Their extreme methods of manipulation are working. Burrowed deep in your mind is the fantasy of worshipping them all day and night. If only they could just praise you and say 'well done' then it would all be worth it. It's madness to think this way but the philosophy is that if you learn to enjoy the domination then it'll be less injurious to your mental health.Once again the two black paws reverse off your face. Just as before the sweat pulls like mozzarella cheese between you and them. Clean oxygen rushes into your grateful airways and the cloud of invisible heat starts to dissipate. Cy tilts his head and looks at you sternly. Once you gather your raggedy breath and blink your eyes back into focus you try to impress the dog by asking, "Th-th-thank You! Uh, may I... lick your pads? To show my gratitude? Please?""Did I tell you to lick my pads?" He growls. "You don't get them when you simply want them. You get them when I demand you bathe them. Remember this, worm. I won't tell it twice. Such rules applied at Athens, during my role in the military. Each soldier brought under my command was made to lick my soles clean as proof of their loyalty. I cannot battle alongside men I cannot trust."Meekly you listen to his tale while staring at his two soles, which sit inches away atop the pedestal. He continues to speak."Only the worthy would understand the value of my soles. It was them who knew not to be greedy and to instead stay loyal from afar. The unworthy would at times return for more without my approval. Their muzzles or jaws were bound shut for a week so tight that they could barely eat. Yet then there were those who refused to heed my command. As punishment they were made to lick clean the sandals of every other soldier in camp, no matter whether there were 40 or 400 soldiers present." (Cy inhales slowly) "If they still would not lick my soles by then I knew not to trust in them. I would gift them to the highest ranking soldiers as a personal slave."Deo interjects to say, "The lesson is all too apparent. You listen to your superiors, peasant. Never disobey. Never take more than you are permitted."Cy lowers his bare paws to the floor for the first time in some while. He grunts and rises to full height looming over you once again. For a moment he curls a fist under your chin, tipping your head back until your eyes meet his. Those green irises penetrate you. He stares with contempt before muttering the word, "Pathetic."Unbeknownst to you but the full hour spent baking under those hot perspiring paws has left a very visual impact. Imprinting the full length and width of your face are two long distinctive pawprints in a smudgy black outline that clearly defines heels, arches, ball pads and toes. They brand your flesh, consisting only of the hollow outlines that sparkle with dewy sweat in the clear centres. You appear like a living doormat. If seen in public, any person could identify the fact that your face has spent gratuitous time under a pair of very unwashed canine feet.A weight lifts from your back as the wolf removes his legs and too stands to his feet. Deo stretches his arms above his head with a satisfactory groan; briefly standing upon tippy toes. Cy kicks the pottery out from under your head and watches it roll away under a table, out of sight.The wolf then walks around to stand back in front of you stepping over his and Cy's discarded sandals. The thudding slap of footfalls is soft in your ear. The Labrador then makes way for his employer by stepping away to your left. Deo takes his place directly before you. With iconic smugness spread across his face he sits upon the bench feeling the warmth of where Cy has been sitting all this time.Cy then says the following: "Fairly my paws prefer standing on his face, to standing on solid ground."Deo ignores him to speak directly to you. "Absurdly Cy does not want his paws licked. However I cannot say the same. I insist upon it. Get off your hands and knees and kneel for me, my pet. I have not had my paws licked since that whore seven nights back."Wearily you resort to your knees without any argument for it's a blessing to take the weight off your arms at last.Swiftly two soles are pushed up close with their sensuous contours almost perfectly matching the paw print imprints already smearing your face. Your eyes scan the soft purple fur, luscious black pads and glinting silver claws. How much more foot worship are you expected to handle in one day?Deo teases and taunts your face by drawing shapes in the air with his forward slanted paw, a mere half away from raking those claws on you. It feels as though his toes are reaching out. They splay. They wiggle. They make you dizzy as his paw swirls left and right before your eyes; indecisive about where it wants to land. His other leg pushes into your heaving chest and massages your sternum with its grabby, greedy toes. Your racing heart beat can be felt through his pads. He can feel the receding and expanding of your chest, pulling and pushing his paw by the smallest fraction.Deo crosses his arms over his own chest and says. "Hold my calf, peasant. I want you to hold the paw to your face while you lick it clean. I refuse to use any pedestal that makes your duty easier! You will work to earn this."Your hand cups under the calf of the right leg, inviting coloured fur and soft muscle are to sink down into your grip. As for Deo's left leg - the one rammed against your chest - you instead curl your free hand over the leg and intimately rub up and down the length of his tibia. With devotion and distinction you push your tongue into the paw that awaits its due worship. Whiffs of dry sour musk penetrate your nostrils as you close in the gap between sole and face. Your tongue curls under his heel slapping the fur with moisture. Little sweeping licks traverse the dimensions of his heel and gradually lick with greater lengths as you guide his leg down lower, moving your mouth up to his arch. The pads are yet to come but your intentions are to slurp off that sheen of dust and dirt from the fur first. His deep instep is mostly flavourless though there is that path of grime travelling down the edge of his sole, between heel and ball, which demands your services. Eagerly Deo listens to the soft mouthy slurps, wet tongue laps and subtle lip smacks you make. He groans in arousal and throws his head back to stare dreamily at the ceiling. His left paw flexes with tension causing the four toes to spread across your chest. As if you are a pedal he uses that same paw to push on your ribs repeatedly. The *Thump, thump, thump* is audible and the effect is resonant in your chest, yet painless. The licking of his right paw persists. You turn your head on different angles and run your tongue through the lilac fur in varying directions making sure not to miss a spot. With control of his leg the decisions on where and how to worship are up to you.Then you hear the sounds of thudding footfalls that pass by your left. You open one eye just in time to see a black tail leave your periphery. While licking ceaselessly you strain your ear to listen for the Labrador's movements. You hear him walk behind and pause before continue around to the right. Shuffles are followed by a squeak and creak of wood. The legs of that spare chair are heard dragging and scraping along the uneven stone flooring as it is taken from its place to the right of you and positioned directly behind you, instead. Cy slumps his weighty figure into it with you knelt ahead, (with your back turned to him).The Labrador watches the slight contortions of your back and neck as your head moves about, worshipping Deo's paw relentlessly. He observes the way your body hunches in pathetic defeat. His employer deserves so much more out of a pet than what you are and so he feels personal responsible for helping shape you into that image of perfect subservience. That means two things: Keeping you well postured and having you learn to live amongst footprints. Thusly, Cy extends his legs and startles you by pressing those two steam-iron soles into your upper backside. You flinch, shudder and squirm as the pads set into place. Heels grind on supple flesh. Cy manually straightens your back by pushing in vigorously, making sure to leave new prints on the rear of your rag clothing. He says nothing as he sits there behind you. The only reminder of his presence is the sensation of two soles squishing into your backside. His toes even curl forward and grasp at your shoulder bones. Presumably by now his pad sweat has dried, yet with motes of the chalky floor dust still sticking to them. There is no denying this Labrador. However he chooses to play with you, you have to simply accept it.In the following one hundred minutes of time you spend your afternoon continuously licking the wolf paws. No grounds go untouched. Your tongue slurps every contour and surface preposterously cleaning away the sweat and grime. After having cleaned the heel and arch of the first paw you moved on to mop his pads so clean that you could almost see your reflection in them. Each pad was savoured and cared for with slow precision, making sure to lap all over their black leather surfaces three times each. After your tongue had scrubbed his toe crotches you returned to polish his pads with the caressing rubs of your face. Only after all this exposure had your nostrils acclimated to that humiliating stink of musk. While it was still clearly noticeable at least you didn't need to scrunch your face.Before commencing with the other paw Deo asked his guard to fetch a small ceramic jug of water which you were then made to drink. Graciously you guzzled the slightly stagnant water as your tongue was very parched. Deo was quick to inform you that the water wasn't for your benefit but it was to give your mouth a more refreshing feel as it worshipped his second paw. Unquestionably Cy returned to pushing his feet against your back after get acquired the water. It was a small surprise he hadn't spat in the jug prior to passing it over, given the utter lack of respect he held for you.Once rejuvenated you were tasked with tongue bathing Deo's paw; a task which no longer seemed so daunting but instead felt like second nature. He raised it to your face and lowered the saturated sole to your lap, digging the heel into your tender crotch. This time you'd begin from the top and work your way downwards. With delicate attentiveness you sucked his claws clean until they gleamed like tiny arrow heads. Afterwards the entirety of each toe was sucked and slavered over. Tongue tracks were made in smooth matted lines down his toe crotches. His pads were washed to perfection then lastly that lilac arch and heel were treated to the final pampering your tired mouth could give. Just as before your face was used like a towel to wipe those wolf soles dry.Deo chuckles to himself. He finds it hysterical that you succumbed to his dominance. "My applause goes to you, peasant! Most often it takes several days to truly break someone in and make a pet of them, yet we broke you before the day was out. I wonder if you really ever resisted the idea of enslavement or if you craved it all along? I suppose it matters not... either way you're mine now."One after the other Deo bends a leg inward to inspect his paw soles. They glimmer and drizzle with your saliva in the areas that weren't properly dried. He gives each sole a satisfied nod before planting them down to the ground, spreading his toes ever so slightly as he stands up from the bench. You - still kneeling - look down at the topside of his paws. They seem to have a magnetic attraction which you can't look away from. Something about this animal's legs lures you in and makes you want to be by them at all times. Never before has any person had this effect on you. Perhaps Deo was right? Perhaps this desire had been lying dormant inside you all these years only it could never express itself until now? A life as a servant hardly sounds too difficult. Certainly it wouldn't be as laborious as the life of a stoneworker and sculptor?You look up and meet the dead-set gaze of those golden wolf eyes. It seems as though you both have something on your mind. Deo speaks first: "You entertain me greatly, my pet. More than others have in the past. You have a passion that you can't hide away and I want to draw that out as often as possible. I think I could return here every day for that kind of treatment! You'll obey my every word, too, won't you?"You nod your head without any hindrance of shame.Deo claps his hands softly and beckons for his guard, saying, "Come, Cy. If we leave know we can return later tonight for a second pampering. I might even let you trample the peasant if you do it softly."The Labrador, (who sits with his hands behind his head), replies, "I'd rather stay here and keep him pinned as my footrest. That'd ensure he doesn't flee the moment we take our leave."The wolf and the soldier stare at one other in contest, speaking only through their expressions. Eventually Cy obeys his employer and stands to his feet with a disdainful sigh. Your back was so accustomed to the feel of his canine feet that you almost forgot they were pressed into it, until they pull away.The two get ready to make their departure for the day while you stay kneeling. Deo slips on his sandals. As he walks by you he praises your efforts with a simple, wordless, petting pat of your head. He stands by the doorway waiting on his guard. Cy taps your shoulder and insists you turn on your knees to face him. When you do he points to his sandals upon the ground. You glance up and see his brow lift expectantly. He clears his throat. Presumptuously you pick up his sandal for him and cradle it in your hands, holding it high with the toe-end facing you. Cy raises a bare leg to meet it and wriggles his paw into the sandal. You watch as the four black toes slip under the leathery toe bands and push out the front, close to your face, filling the insole toe indents perfectly. You can feel the movement of his paw across your palms - through the sole - as it enters the footwear. The dominant animal has not yet finished debasing you. He demands you lean forward and kiss his jet black middle toes while you still hold his leg aloft. Meekly you comply and plant two kisses on the fronts of these toes, only to find you must do it all over again with the second paw. At that close proximity his paws still smell though you aren't belligerent about it any longer. If anything you silently inhale the pungent odour before he pulls his leg away."Anything you wish to say to us, before we return later?" Deo asks as he leans against the doorframe.This is where you say the first thing that comes to mind, yet it was something you'd already considered earlier. On a whim you timidly respond, "Might... Might I go with you? Back to your home, I mean? You could hire me as a domestic servant a-and I wouldn't ask for much, only obey! I haven't much else to do here and... it should save you having to make daily visits if I could be with you there, as a constant convenience?"Surprised by the offer the two animals share a look. Once again they seem to communicate through the mind. Next they share a subtle nod. Your heart skips."It does make logical sense," Deo says, "A pet should be domesticated in the home of their owner...""I barely mind leaving this workshop behind, it makes so little profit anyhow! There I would have greater purpose.""What say you, Cy?""We have been lacking a doormat for some time," The Labrador taunts."Hm..." Deo ponders, "Servants quarters haven't yet been constructed although... so be it. Pet, I'll welcome you into my home on two conditions. Firstly you will live and breathe in servitude to me, never once betraying my trust. You will be degraded whenever I so wish for it, most often at our feet where you belong. Secondly, until there is space to accommodate you I will have you sleep with Cy together sharing his quarters. Bear in mind they belong to him and you will obey him as much as you would me, throughout the nights."Your blood stiffens when a dark velvety hand drops upon your head and ruffles it harshly. You hear a low snicker from the Labrador beside you."Don't bother wasting coin on servants quarters, he'll be just fine with me... I think I'll really look forward to 'sharing' the space," Cy says with a deeply sinister overtone. Forcing your head back so that your must look into his narrowing green eyes, he then mumbles, "Hear that, dirt? Unless your owner requests you you'll be under my control, all night, every night. I can hardly wait!"Deo clap his hands again this time out of celebration. "What fun! And here I came originally to order a gift for the Gods, yet it's the Gods who have gifted me! My home will be complete with a slave like you to attend our every desire! Come along then, off your knees my pet, I'll show you the way home."Your heart is beating faster now than it ever has before. You have just traded in your old life for another newer life, and one that fares far differently than how you ever thought you'd live! Somehow it seems unlikely that you can change your mind now. For better or for worse, you are the paw slave to two very handsome, toned and domineering canines. You had best enjoy it, or else it could be a very long life of subservience...THE END ................
................

In order to avoid copyright disputes, this page is only a partial summary.

Google Online Preview   Download