The dining room of Saj’s mansion was dimly lit, the heavy velvet curtains keeping out the morning sun. Saj, a woman of statuesque proportions, sat at the head of the table, her perfectly pedicured feet resting on the plush cushions of her chair. She wore a silk robe, loosely tied at the waist, revealing a hint of her toned stomach. Her long black hair cascaded down her shoulders, a cruel glint in her eye.
To her right sat her daughter, Mano, a mirror image of her mother in both beauty and cruelty. She wore a short satin nightgown, her long legs crossed, her feet tapping impatiently on the table.
Saj’s nieces, Saman and Mehak, joined them at the table, their eyes twinkling with mischief. They were dressed in matching silk pajamas, their hair in neat ponytails.
Saj called out to her son, Saad, who entered the room, his head bowed in submission. “Ah, there you are, my little foot-boy,” Saj said, a cruel smile playing on her lips.
Saad approached the table, his eyes fixed on the ground. He wore only a pair of loose fitting pants, his toned chest on display.
The women laughed as they ordered Saad to kneel at their feet. He hesitated for a moment, but then comply, his knees hitting the cold marble floor with a thud.
Saj taunted Saad, calling him “her little foot-boy” and telling him he’s nothing but a “servant to their soles.”
Mano playfully insulted Saad, calling him “toe-licker” and “foot-slave” as she dangled her delicate foot in front of his face.
Saman and Mehak giggled as they watched their cousin being humiliated, their own feet tapping in anticipation.
Saj ordered Saad to open his mouth, and she placed a piece of buttered toast between her toes. “Eat, my little foot-boy,” she commanded.
Saad hesitated, his eyes fixed on the bread. He knew what was expected of him, but the thought of eating off his mother’s feet made his stomach turn.
The women laughed and taunted him as he struggled to eat the breakfast they’ve prepared for him. Saj took pleasure in slapping Saad across the face when he cries out in frustration.
Mano playfully slaps his hands away when he tries to use his hands to eat. “Use your mouth, not your hands,” she said, a wicked smile on her face.
The women continued to force-feed Saad, alternating between bread and jam-covered scones. He was getting full, but he knew better than to refuse.
As the meal came to a close, Saj leaned back in her chair, a satisfied smile on her face. “Until dinner, my little foot-boy,” she said, her voice dripping with cruelty. “Don’t forget to polish our shoes before then.”
Saad bowed his head and left the room, his body trembling with a mix of humiliation and arousal. He couldn’t understand why he found this so thrilling, but he couldn’t deny the growing bulge in his pants.
The women laughed and chatted amongst themselves, their feet still resting on the plush cushions. They knew they had complete control over Saad, and they reveled in it. They were the queens of this castle, and Saad was nothing more than their servant.
The end.
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