The Flight Attendant's Slave: A Tale of Public Foot Worship and Femdom (Part-one)

This is the story of Arjun, a submissive man who had been lost in femdom fantasies since childhood. He was always in search of a confident, dominant woman who would turn him into her slave, keep him beneath her feet, and give him the chance to serve her.

Last weekend, he posted his desires online. One day, he received an email from a girl named Riya. She wrote: “Hi, I read your post. It was intense. I like femdom too, from the dominant side. I want a guy to clean my soles, take off my footwear, worship my feet, and massage them when I come home tired. But all this feels good virtually; it doesn't happen that quickly in real life.”

Arjun’s heart raced. He replied instantly, and they started talking for hours. Riya was training to be a flight attendant, so she spent all day in heels or boots. She mentioned how tired her feet would get and how she wanted someone to massage, smell, and lick them.

Riya asked him directly: “Tell me, have you ever served a Mistress in real life? Have you ever put your head under someone’s feet? Have you licked the dust off a girl’s footwear or soles? Licked armpit sweat? Smelled an ass? Tell me the truth.”

Arjun felt shy. “No Riya, I haven’t gone that deep. It’s just fantasies. I am looking for a dominant Mistress who will put a collar on my neck and make me her dog.”

As their bond grew, Riya sent daily photos of her feet—sometimes with red nail polish, sometimes black, or pink glitter. Sometimes in high heels, leather boots, or colorful traditional juttis. Arjun went crazy looking at those photos, thinking, "Such fair, soft soles... no man’s tongue must have touched them yet. They are perfect."

Every photo made him incredibly aroused. He told Riya how obsessed he was. One day, Arjun requested, "Please Riya, show me your feet on video call after you take off your shoes and socks after training."

Riya flatly refused. "No dog, you won't get it that easily. You have to beg for it—properly, desperately."

Arjun got even more excited. On the video call, Riya commanded, "Now beg for a glimpse of my after-work feet." Arjun pleaded, "Please Mistress, let your slave have a glimpse of your feet. This dog of yours will always stay beneath your soles."

Riya smirked. "Good dog. Always remember your place. Beg for my feet in a different way every day." Then she took off her black heels and removed her nylon socks. Her feet were warm and slightly moist from the day's sweat. Arjun was losing his mind watching the screen.

Riya asked, "What would you do if these feet were actually in front of you?" Arjun: "Mistress, I wouldn't take my tongue off them. I would lick them all day." Riya laughed, "Fine, let's fulfill this wish. Let’s plan a meeting."

The first meeting was decided at a restaurant in a neutral city—250 km from Arjun’s home and 150 km from Riya’s. Arjun arrived early by train, checked into a hotel, got ready, and waited for Riya’s instructions.

At 10:00 AM, a message arrived with the restaurant location: "Be there in an hour." Arjun reached on time, nervous and thrilled. Riya called him: "So dog, you used to beg so much for photos over the phone? Today I'm coming in person; won't you beg now?"

Arjun, conscious of the people around him in the restaurant, whispered, "Please Mistress... let your dog, whose whole life will be spent under your soles, have a glimpse of you just once." Riya laughed and hung up.

A while later, Riya entered the restaurant with a confident walk, wearing a sleeveless top and colorful traditional juttis. She looked smart and radiated a dominant vibe. She spoke at the reception and walked straight to Arjun’s table. Arjun stood up to shake her hand, saying, "Hello Riya."

Riya squeezed his hand hard. "Wow dog, straight to 'Riya' from 'Mistress'? Forgotten your place already?" Arjun smiled shyly, "Sorry, Mistress."

They sat down and talked normally for a bit about training and travel. Then, Riya smiled and said, "You were a big 'lion' on the phone, weren't you? Saying you'd stay under my feet all day, licking my juttis and soles. What happened now, dog?"

Arjun whispered, "Mistress, there are people here..."

Riya laughed loudly so the people nearby could hear. "Dogs don't look at the place when they lick their Master’s soles! Understand? Now grab my feet under the table and beg for the gift I brought for you."

Arjun’s face turned red. People were staring. He pretended to drop a spoon, leaned down, touched Riya’s feet, and whispered, "Mistress, please give me the gift you brought for this dog."

Riya gave a satisfied smile. "Good dog." She loosened her left jutti, reached inside, and pulled out a biscuit. The biscuit was broken into two pieces, warm and slightly damp—it had been inside her shoe for two hours, absorbing her sweat.

Riya held the biscuit out and said loudly for the next table to hear, "Here dog, your favorite biscuit! I brought what dogs love most. It was in my shoe for two hours; now it has the full flavor of my foot sweat. Eat it quickly!"

Arjun looked around; people were staring. His face was beet red, but he was rock hard with excitement. He took the biscuit and put both pieces in his mouth. The taste was salty and sweaty—pure foot sweat flavor.

Riya laughed, "How was my sweaty biscuit, dog? Say it loudly!" Arjun whispered, "It was very tasty, Mistress. Thank you." Riya: "This is just the trailer. The biscuit crumbs stuck to my soles—you’ll eat those too. But not here. Sit quietly."

Coffee arrived. Riya took a sip, swished it in her mouth, and then spat a thick thread of saliva into Arjun’s cup. Riya said loudly, "Here dog, drink this special coffee. It's perfect for you with my spit mixed in."

Arjun picked up the cup, his hands shaking as people watched, and drank it. The taste of Riya’s saliva was strong. Riya did this three or four times—drinking coffee and spitting the rest into his cup. Once, when a waiter passed by, she ignored him, spat again, and said, "Drink it, dog, my warm spit coffee."

A couple at a nearby table looked shocked. Riya looked at them and said, "What are you looking at? He’s my personal doggy; he does whatever I say."

After coffee, Riya said, "Let's go watch a movie. We'll pick a flop movie so the theater is empty—the perfect place for your service."

They left the restaurant, Riya walking ahead confidently and Arjun following behind like a slave. At the theater, it was almost empty—just a few scattered people, with the back rows completely vacant.

They sat in the corner of the last row. As soon as the lights dimmed, Riya took off both her juttis and placed her feet on Arjun’s lap. She spoke in a low, dominant voice, "Start now, dog. Do everything you begged for on the phone. First, clean the juttis—lick the outer soles, clean the road dust."

Arjun picked up a jutti. There was some dirt on the outer sole. He began licking it. The taste was salty and dusty. Riya laughed, "Wow dog, licking my shoes in a public theater. How desperate are you for my feet? Tell me loudly, how does my shoe taste?"

Arjun whispered, "Mistress, it's so good... I will clean every speck from your shoe."

Riya: "Good doggy. Now the inner sole—pick up all the biscuit crumbs with your tongue and eat them." The inner sole was damp with sweat and filled with crumbs. Arjun collected them all with his tongue and ate them. It was a mix of salty-sweet, foot sweat, and biscuit.

Riya: "Eat it all, dog. This is your lunch today—my sweat and a biscuit. Now put your tongue inside the shoe and clean it thoroughly, like a dog licking a bone." Arjun swirled his tongue inside the shoe, absorbing the smell and sweat.

Then Riya extended her feet. "Now lick my soles. Start from the heel, take long licks up to the toes." Arjun began licking. The soles were fair, soft, warm, and moist. The taste was a perfect, mild, salty foot sweat.

Riya moaned, "Yes, dog... just like that. I’ve been wondering when I’d find such a desperate slave who would lick my soles even in public. You ate a biscuit in a restaurant, and now you're licking soles in a theater. How low you've fallen for my feet!"

Arjun licked even more vigorously.

Riya: "Now suck my toes. Take them into your mouth one by one and suck hard. The space between the toes has the most sweat; get your tongue in there and clean it." Arjun took each toe into his mouth, sucked it, and ran his tongue in between. Riya moved her feet, enjoying the sensation. "It feels so good... you're a perfect slave. Everyone would see you licking my toes if the lights came on, but you can't stop because you're my addicted slave!"

Then Riya pressed both feet against Arjun’s face. "Now smell them deeply. Bury your nose in my soles." Arjun inhaled deeply. The scent was strong—a mix of leather and a full day’s sweat.

Riya: "How do you like the scent of my sweat, dog? You're addicted, aren't you?" Arjun: "Yes Mistress... I am crazy for the smell of your feet. I want to smell them forever."

Riya laughed. "Good. Now stop. Something else." Riya raised her arms, bringing her armpits to Arjun’s face. Having worn the sleeveless top all day during her training, her armpits were fully sweaty with a strong, musky scent.

Riya commanded, "Now worship my armpits, dog. First, smell both sides deeply." Arjun pressed his nose against her armpits and took deep breaths. The smell was intense—deodorant mixed with real female sweat. It was intoxicating.

Riya: "How is my armpit sweat, dog? This will be your favorite flavor now. Tell me—how dirty and desperate are you to be smelling my armpits in a public theater?" Arjun whispered, "Mistress... the smell is so strong and good... I am your slave."

Riya laughed loudly. "What an obedient dog! Now lick. Clean both armpits with your tongue. Drink all my sweat." Arjun took a long lick of the first armpit. The taste was salty and musky.

Riya moaned, "Yes dog... clean it like that. Isn't my armpit sweat tasty? You're an addict. If people saw this, your reputation would be gone, but you can't disobey my order. This is your life now—my service, my sweat."

Arjun licked even harder, drinking every drop.

Riya: "Now the other one. There’s more sweat there. Suck it like ice cream." Arjun attacked the second armpit, sucking it clean. Riya enjoyed it: "So good... clean the armpit hair too; sweat collects there." Arjun ran his tongue around the hair, collecting every drop.

Then Riya lowered her arms and put her feet back on his face. "Now mix it—after the armpits, lick my soles. Put my armpit flavor on my soles." Arjun began licking her soles again, now with the hint of armpit sweat mixed in.

Riya: "How's the taste now? A cocktail of armpit and foot sweat? Tell me—how lucky are you to get this flavor!" Arjun: "Mistress, I am so lucky... every drop of your sweat is nectar to me."

During the movie, Riya pulled out her phone and secretly recorded a video. "This video is for safekeeping. If you're ever naughty, I'll show everyone how you were licking my armpits and feet in a theater." Arjun was scared, but it made him submit even more.

Riya pressed her foot against his mouth. "Now breathe through my soles. This is your oxygen." Arjun felt suffocated yet ecstatic.

By the end of the movie, Arjun had licked both juttis clean, made her soles shiny, and left her armpits dry and spotless. When the lights came on, Riya put on her juttis, lowered her arms, and said, "Let’s go, dog. You proved to be a very good slave today. There will be much more service ahead."

Arjun’s heart was pounding. He had eaten a biscuit from a shoe, drunk spit-filled coffee, cleaned juttis in public, licked soles, sucked toes, and drunk all of Riya’s armpit sweat. He had completely surrendered. He was now Riya’s permanent, desperate slave—ready for even more humiliation and service every time they met.