The Draftee
By Waterman


Chapter 1

Quinn drove down the lane where he lived in a foul mood. He felt with an inner sense that something was wrong at his house. He and his wife had rented the run down place almost nine months ago, and now he was getting nervous. Quinn and Jeanne usually moved every six months to avoid detection from the State authorities, and always paid the rent in cash to stay hidden. Out of sight, out of mind, and leave no paper trail. The problem was, his wife liked it here in Southern California, and she was tired of packing up and moving. He was a skilled artist, and his work was very well recieved under his false identity in the Los Angeles area. They were making a somewhat decent living, and the weather was nice. Quinn shivered when he thought about what could happen to his comfortable life if the authorities ever found him.

When he pulled into the driveway he noticed an unfamiliar vehicle parked on the street. 'That's odd,' he thought as he parked his truck. 'Never seen that car around here before.' Quinn thought about driving away, but he did not want to leave his wife. Jeanne had stuck by him through thick and thin in his quest to avoid the State draft, and had sacrificed alot. When he walked into his house he knew that his world was going to change. Sitting on his sofa in the living room were two of the meanest looking women he had laid eyes on in quite some time, and they were going over some documents with his wife. Sitting across from Jeanne was a neighbor lady that Quinn had never liked or trusted. Amanda something or other was telling his poor wife that everything would work out for the best. Quinn suspected that the lady was gay, and that she had the hots for Jeanne. Amanda was a looker, though, with long legs that stretched out to hell and back, blue eyes, and pretty long blond hair. She was a class A bitch, and always seemed to have a chip on her shoulder about men, Quinn especially. She always wore exotic high heeled shoes, and Quinn suspected that she might be a user of small men. When he walked into the room everyone stopped speaking.

The two mean looking women smiled and stared at him like they were sizing him up. His wife started crying and babbling on hysterically. 'Oh Quinn, I'm so sorry!' she blurted. 'Amanda talked me into calling the Draft Board about you! Christ, Quinn, I like it here, and I'm sick of moving all of the time! These two ladies are here to take you to the induction center. I've shown them the illegal bioscan on you, and they say that it is authentic. Your scan is really rare, and I can make a decent monthly income from your service. Instead of selling you, I chose to sign you up for a career term, that way we can at least be together for a month each year!' Quinn just stood there in shock. He had been committed to the State in-service reduction program for the next four years. 'God Damn Jeanne, what have you done!?' he screamed. 'I'll be shipped off to some God forsaken shoe salon and you'll never hear from me again! You've seen the underground reports! I'll be reduced and sold off to some Queen of Sheeba as a shoe ornament or foot toy!' Jeanne started crying and Amanda stepped in. 'Christ, Quinn, look at how she is living! You guys exist on a next to nothing from month to month. At least this way Jeanne can put her roots down and have a normal life. And as far as I am concerned, it will do you good to serve the women of this state. Hell, I might rent you for a spell!' she hissed. Quinn reached out to grab the bitch and was stopped by the barrel of a gun.

'That's enough Mr. Conlon!' said one of the mean looking women. 'Time to go now. Mrs. Conlon, the paperwork is all in order. Your husband will be taken to the in-service induction center in Los Angeles. After his physical, he will spend a short period of time in the 'boot camp' at the facility. Call us on Monday to find out where his posting is. From the looks of this Bioscan he will most likely be sent to a rental facility in the Beverly Hills area, or maybe San Francisco. Call that number on my card. I'll keep you posted on his whereabouts and status.' Quinn was handcuffed and led out to the sedan parked on the street in front of the house. He was placed into the back seat of the car and locked in. He stared out the window and saw Amanda hugging his wife in the doorway. 'It won't take long for that witch to convince my wife to sell me to the service' he mused. 'Then she'll be done with me and that bitch Amanda will have Jeanne all to herself.' Quinn stared down at the floor of the car. The two women in the front said nothing. After what seemed like an eternity they arrived at the huge induction center in the heart of Los Angeles.

Quinn was escorted into the massive building in chains and at gunpoint. Once inside he was led to a holding cell while his paper work was processed. A tall hispanic woman stood guard by the door, and glanced his way every few minutes. She smiled at Quinn with a mischievious grin, and tapped the toe of her heeled shoe on the floor in a sporadic rhythm. After awhile, Quinns captors returned with a blond woman dressed in a white lab coat. 'Time for your induction pysical conscript!' barked the doctor. Quinn was placed into a machine resembling an MRI device, and after about thirty minutes he was removed from the contraption. The woman in the lab coat chatted with his handlers. 'Damn, Shannon, this guy's pegged the chart. He is a rare one! Call Sylvia at processing, and tell her to schedule a reduction implant right away. After he goes through training I suspect that the director will send him to Jenny Choo's salon in Beverly Hills immediately. They have a hell of a demand for this type of conscript down there. Shit, I was hoping to keep him here for a little while. I always like to break the new strong one's in myself!' laughed the doctor.

When he woke up Quinn noticed that he was in almost total darkness. His neck was sore on the backside, and upon inspection he felt a small cut with stitches. 'Must be the reduction chip' he thought. His eyes adjusted to the darkness, and he noticed other men in the cell. Suddenly the lights went on and a woman's voice started booming at the occupants. Quinn immediately noticed that he was inside a small cage. The woman who was screaming at them opened the top of the container and began to flash a beam of light over the little men. A beep sounded when the beam crossed over Quinn, and he was immediately removed from the cage. 'You must be the special little worm. Welcome to boot camp, and I mean BOOT CAMP you little shit!' she laughed. Another woman removed the cage holding the other men. 'Those are convicts,' she stated to Quinn mater of factly. 'They don't get any preparation. Some are murderers, some are rapists, and some are just there because of the system. The majority of them will never survive, especially the rapists. In fact, a little man accused of raping a woman will die a most gruesome death. Those little conscipts are considered throwaways to the State, and they are being shipped out to the salon as we speak. You, my special little worm, will get two days of special training before you are turned over to the hungry hoards of foot slave fetishists out in Beverly Hills. After Melissa and I are done with you, you should be prepared to survive any situation that your female masters will dish out to you! You will eat dirt, drink foot sweat, and live in total darkness in a shoe for the next forty eight hours, whether you like it or not! My advice to you is this - keep your sanity and you will survive. Please every master that you serve. You will be in the State's in-shoe-service for the next four years, and you will be expected to please every woman that rents you. That could be four women or two hundred and eight - the minimum rental period is one week, the maximum is one year - it all depends on how much a girl wants to pay! So, let's get started preparing you for your service to the State! And, by the way, you no longer have an identity. From now on you are only known as a foot slave!' Both the drill instructor and her assistant laughed at Quinn. Without fanfare the woman removed her black high heeled pump from her right foot and dropped the three inch conscript into the shoe.

Quinn landed on his face in the smelly pump. The insole was moist with the sweat from the woman's foot, and Quinn immediately slid face first down to the toe section of the shoe. He quickly raised his head and glanced around at his surroundings. It was apparent that this shoe had been worn by the drill instructor for some time. Even in the dim light Quinn could make out the extrmely visable imprint of the ball of the womans foot and toes on the insole. He also noticed that other men had spent time in the shoe as well. The clear image of a body was indented into the sole of the pump, with what appeared to be a head of a man positioned under the second toe. The rest of the body indentation appeared to extend up the insole, positioned under the ball of the womans foot. Quinn heard the woman laugh, and as he rolled over on his back an enormous foot began its entrance into the shoe. In the blink of an eye his vision went black as five huge toes covered his face and engulfed his new domain, pinning Quinn mercilessly in the same position as the shoe's other former occupants. 'Enjoy yourself, foot slave. In four hours it will be time for your first mess hall dinner!'

After what seemed like an eternity the drill instructor removed her foot from the shoe. Quinn's world went from suffocating stench and darkness to violently bright light. He blinked his eyes and sucked in the fresh air. 'Time for some chow, foot slave. Crawl on out of your vacation home and get some dinner while it's still warm,' barked the woman. Quinn made his way up the sweaty insole to the heal section of the womans shoe. His mouth tasted salty from the moisture that made its way from the toes of the woman onto his tongue. In all his life Quinn had never been more miserable. The drill instructor plucked him out of the pump and proceeded to place him at the feet of the girl named Melissa. She was wearing an old worn pair of Keds sneakers on her feet, and the girl smiled devilishly at the little man. 'Melissa here has prepared a great dinner for you foot slave. Inside those sneakers of hers are the dirtiest feet you will ever see this side of the Rockies. When she takes off those shoes, I want you to lick them sparkling clean, and I mean CRYSTAL CLEAN! Bottom of the foot, between the toes, even under each toenail!! When you are done with both of them, I'll be back to let you work on mine. But I like my slaves to clean my feet while they are IN my shoes. Melissa and I will be enjoying some wine while you work. Now get busy, and enjoy your dinner!' The girl popped her sneaker off and wiggled her toes in Quinn's face. He was appalled at the sight and the smell. 'You best get started or you'll pay hell with Cassie, ' she hissed, 'and start with my toes!' Quinn did as he was told, and began the miserable task of licking between the girls dirty, sweaty digits. Soon his mouth was encrusted with filth and grime. His tongue was raw, and the smell was disgusting. The girl read a magazine and drank wine while he toiled, and glanced at him to check his progress. When he was finished with the first foot she removed the sneaker from the other one and commanded him to get busy. Quinn gagged and coughed, and the girl angrily scolded him. 'Don't spit anything out, or I'll make you do it all over again, worm!' When he finally finished his task the drill instructor entered the room. 'Looks like he did an adequate job, Melissa. Now its time to clean my feet.' The woman removed her foot from the pump, picked up Quinn, and dropped him inside. 'I didn't get to spend as much time as Melissa preparing your meal, but they are close. You don't get to leave my shoe until my foot is sparkling.' Without another word the drill instructor slid her filthy foot into the high heel. 'Let's walk down to that little restaurant on the corner, Melissa, and get us something to eat. Watching the foot worm devour his dinner has made me hungry!' The women laughed, closed the door to the facility, and casually walked to the restaurant. Quinn shuddered, and began his miserable task. As he licked the foot pressed against his face he started to think of his wife and her friend Amanda, and wondered if he would ever see them again.

Quinn spent the next two days in total hell. The two boot camp instructors were ruthless, and he never got one break from their contant shoe and foot training. Then, miracuously, at the end of the two day session they quit torturing him. The assistant named Melissa cleaned and bathed him quite tenderly, and the older woman brought him plenty of food and water. 'Eat as much as you can, foot slave. And make sure you drink plenty of water and get some rest. When you start your service tomorrow, you'll never know when your next meal will be,' the drill instructor stated matter of factly. They wished him good luck, and packed him into a shipping cage with twenty other men. Their next destination was a shoe salon in Beverly Hills owned by a Chinese woman named Jenny Choo.

Quinn stared out of the cage that contained him and looked around the lavish surroundings in the salon. There were lush couches strategically located all around the facility, and a plush wet bar and snack facility was against the wall to his left. The patrons of the establishment could lounge, eat and drink as long as they wished, and try on as many exotic shoes as they pleased. Also, if the women wished to purchase or rent a little man to compliment their shoe purchase, Jenny Choo provided an assortment of these to choose from as well. He was amazed at the casuallness of it all. A dark haired woman dressed to the hilt stood in front of a display of little men to the front of Quinn, and lazily gazed at the selection of three inch slaves while she sipped on a glass of champagne. 'I'll take that blond one there,' she said to the sales girl. The woman sat down on a couch and removed her right shoe, and without a second thought placed the lizard skinned high heel on the floor next to her. When the sales woman came over with the screaming little man in her hand, the woman just pointed with a finger to the inside of the pump. The girl dropped the little man in the shoe, and the dark haired woman casually slipped her foot back in on top of the slave. She sipped slowly on her drink and chatted aimlessly with the sales attendant about the hot weather, while adjusting the little captive inside with the tap of her foot on the floor. When she finished her drink she stood, thanked the sales woman, and slowly strolled out of the salon. 'Put it on my bill Suzi, if you would. I'll be back in a couple of days once this one wears out. Ta Ta!' she sang. Quinn started to get nervous.

'You've got to keep your wits about you, man, if you plan on surviving this nightmare.' spoke a voice from the corner of the cage. Quinn, in all of the excitement, failed to notice the man sitting in the corner of his containment cell. The guy looked white, almost like an albino, and he had extremely blond hair. He looked out of the cage like Quinn at the events unfolding before them. Except he had a strange look in his eye, like a thousand mile stare. Immediately Quinn sensed that this man was a seasoned foot slave. 'How long have you been here?' asked Quinn nervously. 'You mean in this cage, or in the service?' the man spoke softly. 'Well, I guess both.' replied Quinn. 'I've been in this cage since this morning. I've been on R and R for two weeks, and after I was resized I was placed in here, just before you were.' The man stared out of the cage at a teenage girl adjusting the head of a little man between her toes as he spoke. Quinn followed his gaze and cringed in fear. The stranger continued, still watching the girl as she giggled in delight. 'I've been in the service for two years. Spent my first year in a Jenny Choo salon in Tokyo, and another year at one in Moscow. Came back to the states two weeks ago for R and R, and here I am. The name is Davis.'

Quinn extended his hand to shake it, but the man did not respond. Nervously, Quinn withdrew the gesture and stated his name. 'Well Quinn, listen up. If you haven't noticed, all the women shopping in this store keep passing us by. We must not be available for rent, which means somebody is coming to pick us up. You and I are classified as prime 1A status, so we are extremely durable, strong, and worth alot of money as rentals. This works to our advantage, so our chances of survival are excellent. The state doesn't like losing prime 1A service personnel, and Jenny Choo doesn't like losing money. The problem is, we'll change shoes quite alot, and each woman is different. Some are mean, some are downright cruel, and some are really nice. You have to read each master, and respond to what she likes. Those poor shits down in that cage at the end of the wall, those are 4F class. Throwaways. Convicts, felons, and poor soles that just were in the wrong place at the wrong time. The state doesn't care what happens to them, so they are sold as is. All the women love it, and if you haven't noticed they move quite a bit. A woman can dispose of one however she wants, as long as it's not in public. In Japan they were used for games and parties. You'll see what I mean in due time.' The girl wearing the little man as a toe strap for her sandal walked by and tapped on the cage holding Quinn and Davis. She stopped and looked at each of them hungrily. 'How much for the two of these?' she snapped to the sales woman. 'They are rental slaves, not for sale.' replied the clerk. The young girl smiled at them and said 'Reserve them for me, as soon as they are available. Put it on my mother's account!' 'For how long, Ms. Alexa?' asked the attendant. 'As long as I can. I like having living toe straps for my sandals, not dying ones. This shit I've got now won't last a week! Call me as soon as they are ready, and fit them in those nice platforms that I like.' The perky girl winked at Quinn and blew them both a kiss. 'See you in a couple of weeks, boys, and plan on having some fun!' She walked out of the store, and Quinn couldn't help but notice the screaming little man trapped between her toes. Davis watched her as she walked out as well, and commented. 'Rich little bitch, those are the worst. She probably won't feed us much, so try to load up on an as many calories as you can for the next couple of weeks. Otherwise, we'll have to live off of the land, and trust me, that is not fun.'

Quinn looked at the man in awe, and wondered what he had been through. He thanked his lucky stars that he had Davis as a partner. Four years, Jesus what a long time. Quinn started thinking of his wife when Davis spoke again. 'Hey Quinn, I've been thinking about our size. Judging from the looks of that guy working as a toe strap, we must be about six or seven inches tall. I think that whoever is renting us must be pretty big, and that we're going to be used at the start as a sandal. If my hunch is right, our bodies will be the top section of the shoe, with our heads as toe straps. Remember to keep licking the area in front of your face, as disgusting as it may sound. Trust me, you'll get used to it. It will please the woman, and keep your face from getting rubbed raw. Pace it so you can keep it up throughout the day without wearing yourself out. When she lets us out of the shoe, we can figure out what she has planned next, ok?' Quinn gave Davis a nervous grin, and said that he'd do his best.

For the next couple of hours, the men remained silent, awaiting their new master. Dozens of women walked by their cage laughing and pointing at the men. A famous newscaster for a local television station strolled by with a sales clerk, and talked the girl into letting one of the men out to give her a foot massage. Quinn was extracted from the cell and forced to comply with the womans wishes in front of a crowd of fans. He got on his hands and knees in front of her open toed sandals and began to kiss her feet. The woman flexed her foot in the air, and made Quinn lie on his back and lick the bottom of her toes. The crowd cheered, and the woman continued to humiliate the little man. 'Now worship between them, my little wash cloth!' she bellowed. After about ten minutes the woman tired of the game and Quinn was placed back into the cage. He spat in the corner of the cell, trying to get the musty taste of the womans toes out of his mouth. 'You might as well get used to it, Quinn. And don't ever do that in front of a master, or you will pay holy hell! Just pretend that you like it,' was all he said. Quinn wasn't sure that he could ever like the taste or smell of a womans foot. Davis was giving his thousand yard stare at the lobby when he muttered 'looks like it might be show time, buddy!' Quinn followed his gaze to an enormous African American woman walking with a purpose through the door of the salon.

Katherine Tate was indeed an enormous woman, but by no means was she considered fat. Standing at six feet, she resembled a professional body builder or wrestler. In her extreme high heels she looked every bit of six feet six, and could pass for a model with her looks. And she was extremely beautiful to look at. Wearing preppy glasses and long hair, she was elegant in her sharp business attire. As a trial judge, she was feared by many, especially guilty men. In close circles she was known as Katherine 'The Crusher' Tate. She had just come from work to pick up a few items that she had ordered from the Jenny Choo salon the day before. 'Katherine, how are you!' greeted the store manager. 'We've got your order ready, all we need to do is fit your shoes.' The two women walked over to the cell containing the two rental slaves, and Katherine stared down at her new men. Quinn trembled in fear, and was afraid to look up. 'That one little lovely looks scared, Tamara. Is he new?' asked the judge. 'Oh yes, he is fresh from the induction center. He'll be fun to break in, don't you think?' chimed the store manager. 'I'm looking forward to breaking in more than just him!' she laughed. 'How about those felons?' she asked. 'The four that you requested are already fed and boxed up.' Katherine had plans for these four little men, and it wasn't going to be fun for them. 'Good' was all she said. 'Let's get these two little lovelies fitted to my feet. I need a good rub between my toes!' Both women looked at the two men in the cage and laughed. Quinn almost passed out from fear as the giant black woman grabbed him around the waist with her huge hand. She held him up to her pretty face and spoke softly to him. 'Don't worry slave, you'll only be in my shoe for two weeks.' Then in a mean voice she hissed 'but if you piss me off I'll crush you like a worm, so do as I say!' Katherine laughed as the little man cried in terror, and then handed him over to the store manager to be fitted to her foot.

Quinn was strapped onto her massive foot first. Just as Davis had predicted, the men were going to be the top section of a pair of high heeled sandals. Quinn was placed face down on the top of the womans foot, and each wrist was chained into place to a strap connected to the lower part of each side of the shoe. This allowed the slaves arms to act as the straps for the front of the foot. His head was then fastened to a small leather thong connected to the bottom portion of the insole, which pulled Quinns face snuggly down into the crevice between the womans big and second digit, creating a nice toe strap. Finally, his ankles were fastened neatly to another leather strap which ran around and behind the womans heel, thus completeing the sandal. 'Tighten the strap in the back, Tamara. I want his face snug between my toes.' Quinn's body was stretched as tight as a piano wire. His face rubbed up and down the flesh between the toes as the woman moved her foot, and Quinn remembered the advice Davis had given him. He slowly started to lick the area with his tongue in disqust, and immediately his face began to slide up and down a little smoother. The womans foot had been encased in a leather shoe all day, and the taste and smell between her toes was very salty and musty. It reminded Quinn of the taste of vinegar. 'Ah, my little one, that feels good. Keep it up and I'll give you something to eat for dinner later, that is if your hungry!' Davis was fitted to her other foot in the same fashion. Katherine walked around in front of a mirror admiring her new purchase. Both men groaned as her feet pulled against the chains holding them in place. She flexed her toes up as high as she could, and laughed as their little heads disappeared between them. 'I love the feel of new sandals on my tired feet, Tamara. I think I'll walk home from here instead of taking the taxi! I'll see you in a couple of weeks!' Quinn groaned louder as the woman began her walk down the hot summer sidewalk.

After what seemed like an eternity to the two little men, the judge finally arrived at her apartment. When she entered her living room she removed the two sandals from her sweaty feet, and set them by a sofa. Both of the little men gave out a sigh of relief as their bodies relaxed from the strain of the chains and straps. The woman set the box containing the other four little slaves on a table. She then went into her bedroom to change into her workout attire. Quinn and Davis listened intently as she walked back into the room cheerfully humming a tune. She opened the box full of little men and quickly selected two victims, which she placed immediately into her workout shoes. Quinn heard the men scream in fear as she inserted her bare feet into the sneakers. Katherine then walked over to her stairmaster and proceeded to workout for the next thirty minutes, slowly crushing the little convicts in the process under her smelly feet. When she was finished, she removed her sneakers, went into the bathroom, and proceeded to dump the crumpled little bodies into the toilet. Quinn moved his head as best as he could to see what the giantess was doing. As he did he saw the little men tumble out of the shoes into the bowl. The woman flushed the toilet, came back into the room, and proceeded to pluck the other two unfortunates from the box. After placing these into her sneakers, she left the apartment to go for a jog. When she returned, she again went into the bathroom to dispose of the other broken men in the same fashion. She then sat on the sofa and removed Quinn and Davis from the constraints of the sandals. Once free, she set the two little men down on the coffee table and got them some water and food. She then started to talk to the two rental slaves. 'Those four men were scum. Two of them were convicted for murdering an old lady for the sixty dollars she had in her purse. The other two raped and tortured a little girl. They got what they deserved, and I don't have any remorse for their loss. In my business, I act as a judge, and at times as an executioner as well. But only with the ones who truly are guilty, and the only thing that you two are guilty of is being men, so I won't be hard on you. But I do like having my feet pampered, so when you finish with your meal I expect a good foot massage!' She smiled, and Davis and Quinn did as they were told. For the next two weeks they spent their time as part-time sandals and full time foot massuers. The judge turned out to be a kind woman, and had rented the two only to wear in her court as an intimidating show piece for defendents to see.

The two little men were returned promptly after their two week term with the African American Judge. When the woman removed them from her shoes Quinn noticed a young blond haired girl talking angrily with a sales attendent. The rich little teenager held true to her promise of renting the two men, and was waiting with her mother for the return of the conscripts. The judge returned the two slaves to the clerk, and immediately the young girl started in with a rage. 'I expected to have these little worms fitted into a pair of platform shoes when I got here. You're late!' she screamed. The tall black woman just stared at her and said in a calm voice, 'If you read the rental contract, you would probably notice that I am right on time. And, these little slaves are always allowed twenty four hours to rest from an assignment. So, I suggest that you come back here in the morning to pick them up. Otherwise, take the matter up with Tamara, not me.' With that the judge left. The young girl started in on the store manager. 'I want these slaves in my shoes, and I want them in there now! Otherwise I'll own this store when my family attorney gets through with you.' Tamara decided to appease the girl, and waiver the twenty-four hour resting clause for the slaves. After all, the judge usually took pretty good care of rental men. 'All right,' she said, 'give me about thirty minutes. That will allow me enough time to sanitize their bodies, resize them, and fit them into your shoes.' The girl remained impatient, and said 'skip their cleaning, they will smell like my feet in short order. All I care about is that they fit under my toes! I expect that we will get some extra compensation for this inconvenience.' The store manager just sighed, and to make the rich girl and her mother happy, she gave them two throwaway slaves free of charge. The girl's mother snatched two poor conscripts from a cage, removed her shoes, and dropped the two unfortunates roughly inside. The teenager just walked around the room barefooted and mad. When she received her new platforms she immediately took out her anger on her new slaves.

Quinn and his partner were now human toe straps. They were fitted into a beautiful pair of platform sandals, the kind with a clear wedge sole on the front section of the shoe, and a clear five inch spike heel. Their bodies were positioned in the front through a false chamber in the wedge under the ball of the foot, accessed by a sliding trap door on the side of the shoe. There was a small hole bored through the insole that allowed the head, neck and part of the shoulders of the slave to extend between the big and second toe of the owner of the platform. A strap was tightly fastened around the mans neck, and was securely connected to a wide leather band that held the front of the foot to the sole of the sandal. The design allowed the mans head to sit firmly on the top of the two toes of the owner, showing off his hair and facial features. The slaves feet slid into two clamps molded into the floor of the compartment, allowing the mans body to remain firmly connected to the shoe while the woman's toes pulled up against his neck, head and strap as she walked. The lower portion of the men's bodies could be seen as well through the clear plastic, allowing for a more stylish look. As an added feature, a little man could also be inserted into the clear heel for the woman's viewing pleasure. It was an extremely uncomfortable position to be in for the slaves, and only durable little men were recommended for the shoes. The teenage girl, Alexa, loved them. She slipped the platforms on, and walked around in front of a mirror admiring the shoes. 'Oh mom, I love them! They fit just perfect, and their little heads look so cute snuggled between my toes! What do you think?' Alexa's mother just grinned. 'They look wonderful, dear, but I think you need these little throwaways in the heels. Here, let's put them in. You'll look like a real man killer tonight with these shoes at your party!' The mother removed the little men from her high heels, and the sales attendant slipped them inside the clear platic compartments. The heel slots were cramped, and the little men grimaced in pain as they were squeezed in. There were only a few breathing holes located at the top, and if the girl stood stationary for a long period of time the men would suffocate while the heel of her foot plugged the holes. Alexa giggled with exitement. 'I wonder how long those little shits in the heels will last!' she purred. 'Probably not too long,' laughed her mother. 'Let's buy a few more, just to have some extras for tonight.'

Quinn struggled to keep his sanity. His whole body reeled in pain as the girl walked out of the salon. When the mother paid the bill, he overheard her conversation with the clerk. It was apparent that he and Davis would spend the next five and a half months in-service to this bitchy teenager. As the woman signed for her purchase, the clerk handed the mother a device that looked like a TV tuner. 'This is the size adjustment control device, just in case you want to change the configuration of your rentals. Its programed to be used ten times, and after that they revert back to the standard three inches. The range is from one inch to ten, which fits most womens needs. If you desire their full size, call us, and for an additional fee we can remote program the setting for you.' The mother thanked the clerk, and walked out of the salon with her daughter. The young girl looked down at her new sandals. It was a hot summer day, and the little men adorning her feet looked miserable. She flexed her feet, and both of her toe straps moaned in agony. She enjoyed their display of pain, and never even thought about the men enclosed in the heels of her shoes. They were disposable, and after all, she had plenty of replacements for them. 'Hey mom, can you drop me off at the mall? I want to see if Kristen and Kelly are hanging out there. I'll catch a ride home later on the bus.' Alexa's mother complied, and after awhile the girl met up with her friends. The three girls walked around the mall and window shopped, and soon they all removed their shoes. They continued strolling and talking for another couple of hours barefoot, and after awhile Alexa said that she needed to get home. 'Be at my house around eight tonight, you guys. We'll play some games with my new little slaves.' She slipped her platform shoes back on her feet, and the filth and smell of the mall engulfed the tired little men. When Alexa returned home she noticed that one of the little unfortunates trapped in her right heel compartment was not breathing, and looked dead. She just smiled, and left the little man inside the prison where he lay. It was the shoe that Quinn occupied, and he just moaned in dispair at the cruelty of the girl. It was then when he had serious doubts about his survival.

For the duration of their tour with the teenage woman, the two service slaves lived in total misery. As Davis predicted, the two men were constantly neglected. They were only fed decent food and water when the girl sobered up, or was reminded by her mother to care for her little toys. At times, both men found themselves gnawing on the leather toe straps that they were fastened to for the nutrients and moisture that might be available. They were often seperated and loaned out to various friends of the girl, spending many a day inside the shoes of women that had no responsibility for their well being. At the end of their assignment, both men looked like holocaust survivers. Quinn was developing the same albino look of his partner from his long time spent inside the high heeled shoes of his captors. When they were returned to the salon, they were immediately given five days of R & R to recouperate. Quinn was also informed that his one month family leave was due after the completion of the six month tour. While he was in R & R the salon attempted to make contact with his wife.

Quinn and Davis ate and drank as much as they could fit into their stomaches after their ordeal. After two days the little men started to regain their strength. Quinn contantly dreamed of his beautiful wife Jeanne in his fits of slumber while he rested. He couldn't wait for his chance to spend time alone with her, and thirty days seemed like forever to him after the past six months in service. While he rested in his containment cell in the display section of the shoe salon, Quinn lazily watched the activities going on around him. He constantly was amazed at the ease of the patrons who came into the establishement, picking and choosing little men to occupy various positions in the fashionable shoes that they wore or purchased, never seeming to care about the little slaves fate under their soles. To Quinn, it seemed that the little men were just mere ornaments or toys to be utilized for a woman's fancy of the moment, no more valuable than the shoes adorning their pretty feet. He stared out in silence watching a girl as she casually walked to the cage holding the 4f conscripts down the hall. Something looked familiar in the way that the woman carried herself as she chose a little man for her pleasure. The tall blond was extremely attractive, with legs that stretched to hell and back. She plucked a slave from the cage, like she had a chip on her shoulder towards the little victim. The woman proceeded to the couch directly in front of the cell that Quinn occupied, and sat down smiling. She clutched the little man in her right hand tightly, causing the conscript to scream at the top of his lungs. With an evil grin the giantess stared directly at Quinn, and slowley removed the platform mule from her left foot. Quinn felt weak in his stomach as he gazed into the eyes of his wife's friend Amanda.

The woman smiled wickedly at Quinn as she slowley placed the little man into position into her shoe. The slave started to squirm, causing her to loose her grip on the victim. Angered at the man's attempt at escape, Amanda proceeded to violently flick her finger into the slaves groin, causing him to pass out from the pain. She then inserted him into a neat little compartment in the front of the enclosed high heel, where he disappeared from Quinn's view. The shoe was a clunky platform with an enclosed leather front section and an open heel, and to Quinn it looked well worn. The man was inserted from the rear of the toe section into a tight ramped compartment that angled up towards the front of the shoe, where his little head poked through an opening in the insole just underneath the area where the woman's toes would be situated. The angled compartment positioned the mans head so that it rested on the insole looking up towards the mass of flesh pressing against his face. Amanda held the shoe out so that Quinn could see the inside. The little slave awoke from his daze, and started to scream. Quinn noticed the dirty imprint of her foot, and saw that the man's head was firmly situated under the void of her second toe. Without a word Amanda slowly inserted her left foot into the platform, smothering the little man in a musty darkness. The frantic breathing and screaming against her sweaty toes made her giggle in delight. Amanda stood up, twisted her foot back and forth, and walked over the Quinn's cage. 'Hello, Quinn, long time no see. Or should I call you foot slave? My, you've lost some weight, and that tan of yours is gone. I guess you don't get much sunshine in your new job, huh?' she laughed.

Quinn turned white in the face, and wondered what this bitch was up to. The girl continued on with her tormenting verbage towards the miniture man. 'Gee, Quinn, oops, slave, alot has gone on around your place since you left. Since Jeanne found out about your affair with that college student, she has really taken a liking to tormenting little men under her feet. The girls in our club all think that she's a great man basher, just because of you!' Quinn grabbed the bars of his cage and screamed. 'What in the hell are you talking about!? I never had an affair with another girl!' Amanda just smiled, and said casually 'I know that, and you know it too, but as far as your ex-wife is concerned you had an affair. It wasn't hard to talk that rich little teenage girl that wore you in her sandals for the last five months to convince your little Jeanne. All it cost me was a couple of throwaway slaves. She really laid it on about the sex too, and after all, she knew every detail about your body since you lived under her feet. Jeanne was livid, and she decided to sell you to the Jenny Choo salon. I talked her into making a stipulation on the sale. After six more months in Beverly Hills you will be shipped to a salon in Tokyo, Japan, where you will spend the remainder of your life. I hear that Japanese women are hard on little American foot slaves!' Amanda laughed hysterically at Quinn. 'Oh, just a couple of more tidbits for you to dwell on. Your ex-wife and I have become rather close. She is planning on moving in with me when your divorce is finalized, which should be within the next couple of months. In the meantime, I have rented you for the duration of your stay here in Beverly Hills. You get to spend the next six months under my feet, and if you worship me the way I like, you might get a glimpse of your pretty ex-wife once in awhile before you're shipped off to that slave hell hole in Tokyo! For what it is worth, Quinn, Jeanne is a damn good lover, and we get along perfectly. I promise that I'll take really good care of her!' Amanda winked at Quinn slyly.

Quinn dropped to the bottom of the cage and wept. Amanda laughed at the destroyed little man, and slowley removed her right shoe. 'Time for you to be my little foot toy, slave. Oh, and one more thing. I don't really get off on having foot toys adorn my feet as ornaments. Jeanne and I prefer to make our little men suffer in isolation inside of our shoes. It's much more fitting for a pathetic little man, don't you think, to live and worship under a woman's foot? And we don't have to look at their faces or listen to their worthless screaming!' she said. The sales attendant walked up with the paper work, and once completed, Amanda proceeded to snatch her little rental victim from the cage. Quinn offered no resistance, and the woman proceeded to insert the little captive into the hidden compartment located in the right shoe. His head poked through the opening in the front section of the platform, and as the trap door shut Quinn noticed how cramped his body was in the tight little space. He looked around, and like the other little victim he noticed that his head was positioned under the void of the bottom of Amanda's toes. He felt the shoe move to the floor, and waited in a panic for the huge foot to engulf his new prison. He heard the woman laugh and chatter with the sales attendent about how hot the weather was outside, and how sweaty her feet would get walking around all afternoon in her enclosed shoes. 'Ready or not Quinn, here comes my foot. If you want to score some points with me I suggest that you worship the bottom of my toes with that pathetic little tongue of yours! When we get home you can clean up the rest of my feet.' she smirked.

Quinn stared out of the opening of the shoe and watched as Amanda inserted her foot. She took her sweet time in the process, and when her toes reached the little mans chest she stopped and flexed them up into the air in front of Quinn's face. In the dim light he noticed that they were somewhat dirty, and he cringed at the prospect of having her smelly digits covering his face for the remainder of the day in the enclosed front section of the platform. The thought of having to lick them clean later was even more repulsive to Quinn. In quick order Amanda's foot completed its entry into the shoe, engulfing his head underneath her pretty toes. To Quinns surprise he was relatively comfortable in the position that he was in, except for the toe ring that pressed into his face with each step that Amanda took. After a short period of time, the humidity and heat intensified inside the shoe, and the womans foot began to sweat. The smell increased, and moisture began to trickle from between her toes onto Quinns face, mixed with the grime on her soles. 'If you want to get a glimpse of your ex in the near future, foot slave, you best get started using that tongue of yours!' she commanded. Amanda walked out of the shoe salon into the hot summer day. She stopped for a second to thank her friend Tamara for all of her help. While the two girls chatted away, Amanda curled her toes tightly around the heads of the little slaves trapped inside her shoes and giggled wih delight. 'God, Tamara, there is nothing better than the feeling of two pathetic little men under your toes on a hot summer day!' She then proceeded to casually walk down the sidewalk to meet her girlfriend for lunch.

The Draftee
Chptr 5

Amanda returned home and walked into her luxurious home. She had just recently come into a sizable inheritance, and these days’ money and finances were no object for her. She no longer had to work, and she could now afford the things that were most important in her life, such as her fetish for little male foot slaves and her love for her girlfriend Jeanne. And now she owned Quinn. For the past couple of years she had been in love with his wife, but the husband had always been a roadblock in their relationship. Now, the political climate had changed with the radical policies of a new female President, and the world of the New Age Male had drastically been altered. It was perfect timing for Amanda’s plan.

The shoe that Quinn occupied was removed, and his owner placed the pair of platform clogs into the holding cage of her footwear and trophy room. It was a rather sizeable closet that housed all of her slaves and the shoes that they were assigned to be worn in. It was actually the size of a small room, and it resembled a miniature dungeon. The area was enclosed within a cage, to prevent the possible attempt at escape from the little occupants inside. In the center of the room were the daily shoes that Amanda, her lover, and various friends wore on a regular basis, and strapped into some were little male occupants. They were positioned daily so that a shoe could be slipped on in a moments notice with a small man intact for whatever activity that should arise, be it workouts, dancing, our a casual stroll. On the far wall were the cages that housed more slaves in waiting, for whatever fancies Amanda had planned. Most were utilized for in shoe activities, but some were used for more erotic pleasures and games. All of the little men were expendable, except for Quinn. Arranged on the opposite wall of the shoe closet were the trophies and human shoe designs that Amanda and her associates had created and enshrined during times of introspect and fun. It was a vast display of creativity and male suffering, and all of the occupants of the footwear had been preserved in place for Amanda and her friends to wear on occasion to remind them of the joy they had had in creating the fashions. The living occupants of the shoe closet viewed them daily, and some had the privilege of watching their creation as it transpired. All were terrified of becoming Amanda’s next fashion.

Quinn was released from his shoe, and allowed to roam around the closet to survey his new world. Amanda took great pleasure in his visual perspective of his new existence. He stood and stared at two men who had been mummified into human sandals on exhibit in the trophy area. The dirty imprint of the owners feet were embedded into their leather like torsos. Their necks and heads were positioned as toe straps for the sandals, and Quinn had to fight the urge to get sick. “I thought you might like those, Quinn. Your ex-wife Jeanne created them. It took five days for the little shits to set up once the embalming injection kicked in. She wore them the whole time on her feet to ensure that they formed properly, and laughed as they moaned and begged for mercy. She still wears them for fun, and wishes that you were the left sandal.” Amanda laughed and pointed to a slice of bread lying against the wall of the compound, and a bowl of dirty water. The food had the distinct imprint of dirty toes imbedded into the center. “Jeanne is usually the keeper of my slaves when she is here. She only feeds them once a week, and she left this here just this morning for you all to dine on. It’s been in her sneaker for a couple of days, so enjoy. By the way, she will be gone for the next month, but she’ll be back. She is helping her mother move to California, and when they return they will both be living here with me. Seems her mom has a liking for little foot slaves as well,” she smirked. “That gives me just enough time to prepare you for your family reunion!”

Quinn grimaced at the comment. He despised his mother in law. She was a beautiful woman, but she was a New Yorker that embraced the liberal politics of the president and her ideals. She was also rich, and a snob as well. And she never cared for Quinn. He had the impending feeling that he would soon end up as a slave in her shoe. He started to wonder what the future held for him.

The Draftee
Chapter 6


Dr. Shannon Simone sat in the living room sipping on a glass of wine explaining the new state of the art surgical and biological procedures currently in place that clients utilized for modifying their slaves. Amanda was elated with the opportunity of transforming her new purchase into a more efficient foot toy. The two friends discussed the options while Quinn labored away at the task of worshiping their feet. He had been transformed to twenty-four inches in size, and was tethered with a chain that was fastened around his neck. His owner held the end of the leash, and on occasion jerked it violently out of spite to torment her little slave when he failed to lick properly between her guests’ toes. The doctor smiled at him when he was punished, and continued on with her discussion. Quinn was terrified at what he was hearing.

“It won’t be hard at all to change his appearance, Amanda. I’ll do the plastic surgery myself. I’ll eliminate his hair, and enlarge his nose. That way he can smell your foot odor more efficiently. With some changes in the ears and eyes, his own mother won’t be able to recognize him. I also recommend doing the bio-molecular reconfiguration process as well. That will eliminate the need to feed him normal food. After twenty-four hours the only thing he will be able to process for nourishment is what you provide him with your foot. In other words, the dirt and sweat off of your feet, flaking skin, toenails, grime, and so forth. The more, the better. Once the transformation is complete, he will constantly seek this nourishment. In essence, he will always be worshiping your foot to stay alive, which all of my clients totally love. It’s also a great deterrent for his wanting to escape. Without your feet, he will die of starvation,” the doctor stated matter of factly. “What about his voice,” asked Amanda. “Is there a way to disguise that?” The doctor continued her dialogue. “I was just going to get to that. I recommend removing most of his teeth, since they won’t be necessary anymore. I’ll replace them with a synthetic insert, which will enlarge his lips, and still allow him to chew whatever he can find in your shoe. It will make it more efficient for your slave to suck on the bottom of your foot, kind of like a vacuum cleaner. It really is soothing to feel, and if you keep him enlarged at the size he is now it really feels great when he sucks on your toes. Once the procedure is done, about all you will be able to understand from him is mumbled speech, and of course screaming and moaning. Your slave will become a perfect foot worshipper.”

Amanda finished her glass of wine and gave Quinn an evil smile. “Perfect,” she laughed. “When can you do the complete procedure?” The doctor looked at the trembling little man, drained her wine glass, and told her to have him at her clinic first thing in the morning. “He’ll be ready to wear in your shoe the next day. I’ll also give him a strength enhancer, which will help the healing process and speed up his metabolism. He will be hungry as hell when you put him in your high heel, so make sure your foot is extremely filthy. I guarantee you’ll love the results!”

Thirty-six hours later Quinn awoke in a daze and stared up at a faint light trickling in through the bars of his cage. Amanda had fastened a mirror to his cell so he could view the effects of the transformation process, and he slowly rose to his feet. His head was throbbing, and his mouth felt extremely peculiar. As he stared into the mirror at his deformed features, his body growled with hunger. The doctor was correct in her assessment of his appearance. Quinn did not even recognize himself. He let out a feeble scream, and all that he could muster was a muffled blurt. He fell into a heap and began to cry.

In a moment he heard his master unlocking the closet. She opened the cage Quinn occupied and quickly snatched him in her hand. She admired the doctor’s handiwork, and spoke to the broken little man. “Gee Quinn, I really like your new look,” she stated cheerfully. “And those lips, my god, I’ll bet you could suck the polish right off of my toenails! You know, even your ex wife won’t be able to recognize you now. Hey, I bet you’re hungry. You are in luck. I just got back from the gym, and I worked out for hours barefoot. I heated your dinner in the oldest gym shoes that I could find to jog home in, so let’s put you inside one. Let me know if you need seconds, and don’t forget to say grace before supper!” Amanda popped her heel out of a sneaker and dropped the little man in. She stepped back down and tapped the front of her foot positioning Quinn directly under her filthy, sweaty toes. She then proceeded to walk down to the kitchen to grab something to eat. She sat down on a sofa, turned on a movie, and plopped her hot feet onto a cushion while she ate. It didn’t take long for the little man in her sneaker to start working on her foot.

The first thing Quinn noticed was how horrible the sweaty sneaker smelled. His nasal senses seemed to increase tenfold since his transformation surgery. The woman tapped the front of the shoe and he slid down the moist insole directly underneath her toes. In the instant of brief light he noticed that the bottom of the foot was black with dirt. Under the sweaty toes the heat and smell was intense. As repulsive as it was, Quinn had no choice but to suck on the damp grime to survive. He pressed his face against the flesh of a toe, and like a suction cup his lips spread out against the surface of the skin. With no teeth the area he was cleaning tripled, and the jaw inserts allowed for a totally unique sucking action coupled with his now extended tongue. He found that he could work twice the area of a woman’s foot in a much shorter interval. In no time he realized that he was almost done cleaning the filth from Amanda’s foot. And what amazed him was the sudden energy rush he got from eating the grime and sweat. Not to mention the fact that he was no longer famished.

Amanda was in awe at how erotic the sensation felt on her foot. She made a mental note to thank Doctor Simone for a tremendous job. She felt Quinn working the heel of her right foot, and figured that his dinner was finished. She popped the old sneaker off, and out tumbled the little man. With a snicker she asked him if he wanted seconds. He mumbled something she could not understand, and assumed that he was done with the miserable task. To her amazement he walked over to her left shoe and began untying the laces, sending her a message that he wanted the other foot as well. She happily complied, and decided to let him dine on her dirty left foot while she watched his progress. The slave proceeded to work this foot like the other one, and after completing the job he seemed full. To her amusement Quinn looked totally disgusted with what he had to do to survive. He was truly a perfect foot slave. Amanda continued on with her psychological torture of the broken husband of her lover.

“Quinn, I think that Jeanne would really appreciate your new qualities as a foot slave. But before she returns, I want to test you on someone else. I’m picking your ex mother in law up at the airport tomorrow morning. I talked her into coming to LA early, so that she and I could get better acquainted, you know. I also promised her the opportunity to try out some of my little men, and she seemed real interested in my new “super slave”. Don’t worry, though, she doesn’t realize that it is her worthless son in law. As far as she knows, you are my new houseboy, and I thought that it would be fun for you to live off of her feet for the next couple of weeks. Jeanne is staying in New York for a while longer to wrap up her mothers estate. When she returns I might give you to her as an anniversary present. Of course, I’ll never reveal to them your true identity! As far as they are concerned, you are just another convict to torment.”

The Draftee
Chapter 7

Amanda waited at the gate for her girlfriend’s mother to arrive from her flight to LA. She had never met the woman before, but had seen numerous photographs of a tall, beautiful, blond lady that looked like a Greek goddess in Jeanne’s family albums. She was in her early fifties, and had a serious look about her. When the passengers departed the plane she spotted her immediately walking elegantly towards the gate. The woman was dressed in expensive looking business attire that portrayed an air of importance. On her feet she wore classic leather Italian heels, with a clear synthetic mid section that revealed the well-sculptured arch of her foot. Amanda was quick to notice a little arm protruding out to one side from under the flesh of the woman’s right sole, and she instantly knew that she was going to like Quinn’s mother in law.

“Marion, I’m Amanda Blake, Jeanne’s friend. How was your trip?” she asked. “Long and boring,” replied the woman. “It would have been more enjoyable if the occupant in my right shoe wouldn’t have given out on me half way through the flight. I guess that’s what I get for buying cheap help.” She grinned at Amanda, and both women started laughing. The two hit it off immediately, and as they rode home in the Mercedes they chatted about the hot California weather, Jeanne, moving to LA, and dependable little footmen. Amanda told her all about her new little “super slave”, and she noticed that the older woman appeared excited at the prospect of tormenting the little man. She couldn’t wait to see how Quinn would react to their encounter.

Quinn was chained to the floor in Amanda’s game room, directly in front of two luxurious leather chairs, awaiting the arrival of his ex mother in law. He was again twenty-four inches in size, and was in a position that would allow him to service the feet of both occupants of the seats. Between the sofas was a table containing a bottle of chilled champagne, two glasses, and a variety of fresh fruits. He was extremely nervous, and he constantly tugged on the chains binding his wrists and ankles. He had no idea what Amanda was telling the woman, and for all he knew he was going to be a dead man soon, or maybe even worse. He had not been fed for sometime, and he was famished. Quinn cringed at the thought of having to feed off of the feet of his mother in law. He immediately tensed up as he heard the sound of female voices cheerfully approaching the room.

The women walked in and settled into the leather chairs. Amanda opened the champagne and filled the two glasses. Quinn’s mother in law stared at the little man fastened to the hardwood floor and smiled. She wiped the bottom of her pumps over the man’s face and poked him in his privates with her four-inch heels. The slave let out a garbled scream of pain, and she laughed at his attempt to try and speak. “He is impossible to understand, Amanda. It is kind of cute, though. And I like those lips. Can I try him out?” Amanda chuckled and unfastened Quinn from the floor and tethered him with a leash collar around his neck. She handed the end of the chain to Marion and said with a wide grin, “do whatever you want to with him, anything. Beat him, torture him, use him as a sex object, I don’t care. I bought him for all of us to utilize for our personal pleasures, and he really is the best foot slave that I have ever owned. All I ask is that you feed him and keep him alive. I would like him to suffer for a long time.”

Marion smiled, jerked the leash, and pulled the little man onto his feet. “Remove my right shoe, slave, and start worshiping my toes.” Quinn trembled, and reluctantly did as he was instructed. He grasped the huge shoe and removed it from his mother in law’s foot. A little slave trapped inside slid to the heel section as he pulled the pump off of Marion’s sweaty sole. “Dump that trash out of my shoe!” the woman commanded. Quinn turned the high heel over and the small occupant fell on the floor in front of the giant woman’s left foot. He froze when he saw that it was his father in law, whom he thought was dead. The man had disappeared two years ago while on a hunting trip in Alaska, and now looked half starved and barely alive. The woman slapped Quinn on the side of his head with her bare foot to get his attention. “What is the problem, imbecile, start worshiping my foot!” she demanded. He slowly sucked her big toe into his gummy mouth and began the miserable task of cleaning her foot. He started to gag when she nonchalantly crushed the little unfortunate under her left shoe. “I should have gotten rid of that piece of garbage along time ago,” she commented to herself.

Amanda was elated. The woman had no clue that the slave feeding on her foot was her hated son in law. She could not wait to let Jeanne have her way with the little bastard. She smiled as she watched Quinn choke on his mother in law’s huge big toe. She made a mental note to terminate some men of her own in front of Quinn while he toiled away on her feet. It was fun to see his pained expression. “Make sure that he cleans that sweat from between your toes Marion. This slave hates the taste of toe jam.” They both laughed as Amanda removed the high heel from her left foot, and placed it in front of the foot slave. The women sipped on their wine and ate some fruit as the little captive worked on both feet at once. After awhile he was reduced to three inches and placed into his mother in laws shoe for the remainder of the day. The heat of summer made his world a total hellhole as her foot perspired inside the pump.

The women spent the day shopping in various malls around Los Angeles. They walked barefoot through a park, laughing and talking about nothing in particular, until the soles of their feet were black with filth. When they got home they made Quinn lick them clean. When it was time to retire for the evening, Amanda showed Marion to her living quarters. She gave the woman the controller that altered Quinn’s size and smiled. “Have fun with that slave, Marion, and as I mentioned earlier do whatever you want with him. I was told that he raped older woman when he was a free man,” she lied. Jeanne’s mother looked at her and smiled. “Don’t worry, I plan on having some fun with him during the night. I figured that he was no better than the trash I’ve been wearing in my shoes these days.” She looked Amanda in the eyes and spoke softly. “My Jeanne has this desire to find that bastard Quinn and put him out of his misery quickly. If I ever found him I would treat him just like this piece of garbage here, and make him live in misery serving me for a long, long time. Don’t worry; I’ll make sure that your slave stays alive. After a couple of days with me he may wish that he had never been born, and I know that he will be worn out in the morning!” She laughed and winked mischievously at Amanda, who grew increasingly excited anticipating what Quinn’s beautiful mother in law had planned for him for the evening.


 

To Be Contined