parker2k
05-02-2011, 12:59 AM
The second special section story, enjoy.
A Tale From The Special Section:- Lloyds Punishment
Lloyd was worried, a feeling that didn't sit well with him. It was something he wasn't used to and it filled him with a deep trepidation. Huddled on the cold concrete floor of the cell, he glanced furtively around searching, desperate for a way out of the prison. Of course there wasn't one, the only entrance, the thick steel door through which he had been unceremoniously thrown. He shivered uncontrollably his naked body, abused by the cold inhospitable air. Time had become meaningless within this place, although he estimated that at least 4 hours had passed since his incarceration. He stood up pacing the cell, his feet cold and sore from the rough floor. Deep down he knew that there was little hope, but as is human nature the small smouldering spark that he could somehow escape persisted in his sadistic mind.
Anger came and passed as the slow lonely hours continued to slide by, left with nothing but his own mind and the freezing ache of the cool air. He'd screamed himself hoarse in the first hours of his imprisonment, banged his clenched fists against the steel door futilely. The only sign that he was being monitored, was the black lens of a security camera, fixed in the corner of the wall. Apprehensive thoughts continued to run rings in his brain,
'What are they planning, its going to hurt, just got to try and hide my pain, can't let them see my fear.' Coaching himself mentally, he did what he could to prepare for his unknown fate.
In a room not more than 200 ft from where Lloyd crouched, sat the attractive figure of Kirsty the current chief warden of the Special Section. Her face was a picture of disgust as she ploughed through the case file of her new ward. Never before had this facility housed an animal of Lloyds nature, the pages of his file presented more and more monstrous atrocities which upset and angered her. His killing and torture of his victims had been indiscriminate, never following any set pattern which had drawn out and complicated his eventual capture. The only common thread was that he attacked women, whether old or young but never men. He'd taken such pleasure in the dehumanization of his victims, indulging his sick desires with more and more elaborate forms of torture and humiliation. Eventually, Kirsty finished and dropped the offensive material down on her desk, her breath hitched and she began to sob quietly.
It had been necessary for her to understand the malice and coldness with which Lloyd had carried out his crimes, but now she felt sick and somehow soiled after absorbing the abhorrent misery from the case files. Still holding her head in her hands, she let the sympathetic grief pour out of her feeling compassion for all the victims of this monster. After a while she regained composure, her mind slightly drained but feeling better from the release of her pent up emotion. Kirsty had been the chief warden at the correctional facility for over two years now, and her reign had been met with acceptance and praise from her guards and staff. Never before had there been a warden who had created such ingenious, and novel ways to punish prisoners. Her record was impeccable, none of her wards that had been released within the last two years had returned which of course was her goal.
And now there was Lloyd, even thinking the man's name made her skin crawl. This was the big one she knew without a shadow of doubt that her actions with this man would be recorded in history. He was the first prisoner to walk in these walls, carrying a death sentence. The gravity frequency and maliciousness of crimes could have had no other outcome. There was to be no rehabilitation for this one, he would live the rest of his life within her walls and eventually die there.
'At least,' she thought,
'the victims families should find some small solace in that.'
Now the punishment was to be decided, and it was something she'd tested her brain with. This couldn't be a rush job, or a quick and easy death no that wouldn't do. She knew that she had to think of something ingenious, something that would destroy the man that he was. Her goal was to make Lloyd beg to be granted death, for him to see his demise as a release and not a punishment.
She pondered the problem deeply, trying to be as objective as possible; and yet her mind couldn't help but be clouded with hate and anger which slowed the formulation of ideas. Many minutes past without her noticing, in sharp contrast to Lloyd where time almost seemed to move backwards. After almost two hours a slow smile spread across her face, she knew what she would do and with a satisfied grunt began to make preparations.
Lloyd groaned as he rolled over on the cold floor, the rough surface threatening to break him out of the light sleep he'd found. A sharp click and metallic creaking awoke him from his troubled slumber; as a group of four women stormed into the room. They were wearing the same stark uniform as the group that had transported him from reality, to this hellish existence. Their countenance were undistinguishable, hidden behind there darkened face plates, dark and intimidating. Lloyd jumped to a half upright position as they invaded his cell, scrambling backwards, trying to find refuge against the unrelenting wall. The invaders moved with common purpose towards him, neither speaking or slowing down as they gathered at either side. He knew that resistance was pointless, the earlier beating still a painful reminder.
“Please, wha what is it you want me to do, just tell me i'll do it.” Murmured Lloyd desperately wanting to avoid any pain from these heavily armed women. They gave no response as they moved forward and grabbed him. Hoisting him bodily above there heads, so that he rested as a dead weight on their shoulders. They moved him unceremoniously, paying him the same attention that one might give luggage. Lloyd stared at the illuminated panel lighting as they marched towards an unknown destination. If he concentrated hard enough he could almost imagine that he was on a stretcher, in a hospital and not destined for who knew what within the prison. It didn't take long for the women's march to end, and Lloyd heard the click of an electronic lock as they entered another room. They slung him down onto a hard metal table, and proceeded to strap him down, restraining him tightly .
Once he was secure they turned still without speaking and left. Lloyd looked around the room as best he could from his horizontal position. Directly above him was a set of lights attached to a movable arm, and glancing to his right he could see a metal tray containing a set of unmistakable medical instruments. The revelations sent shivers of apprehension down his spine, and an icy sweat broke out on his brow.
'What are they going to do to me, there going to operate on me, but what.' His already overstressed mind raced with new fear and he felt the now familiar feeling of adrenaline rush through his veins. Fortunately or maybe unfortunately depending on his outlook he didn't have to wait long to find out. There was the click of the electronic lock again and three new people entered the room. The women who entered first was maybe in her mid thirties, with sleek straightened shoulder length hair. Her face was exquisitely pretty with model like features, framed by her sleek stylish hair. She moved with a grace and hard authority, that gave Lloyd the impression that she was the boss. Accompanying her were two other women, both dressed in the characteristic clothes of surgeons; there bodies covered in white smocks.
Kirsty advanced, her piercing blue eyes fixed firmly upon Lloyd's. She could almost feel the fear that emanated from him and it filled her with a warm feeling. Kirsty was no monster, but she couldn't help the satisfaction that washed over her. Here was the beast that had killed and tortured numerous women, lying helpless.
'Now who's the victim,' she thought, as she neared the table staring contemptuously at his frightened eyes.
Turning to her right she addressed the lead surgeon, “Claire are you completely certain, that we can't do the operation without anaesthetic?”
Claire Nodded, “I'm afraid so, if we want to give him every chance of living, then its something that we can't risk.”
Kirsty grimaced slightly at the response, it was a conversation that they had already had and yet she longed to let him endure the full slice of the blade.
“Ok, I understand,” she conceded, “just do your best to keep it alive,” .
Without saying another word she turned and left the surgeons, she'd save her words for Lloyd once the operation had completed. Lloyd listened to the women's words, hating the helplessness and fear that wouldn't stop. He wanted to rage and fight against his bonds, to scream and rant threatening the three women; but he didn't. He wasn't a stupid man, the length of time that he'd evaded capture was a testament to that. Knowing from experience that any threats or attempt to appeal to their better nature would be wasted. The normal position of power that he'd enjoyed during his criminal acts had been reversed, so this was what it felt to be a victim. Though the chances were slim, he still hoped that they'd give him the opportunity to get away, and then he would pounce with both hands.
laying quietly on the bed he studied the two surgeons looking down at him; their face's were so cold. Abruptly the taller women placed a mask on his face and he felt the icy breath of gas. The last thing he saw before he slipped from consciousness, was the blade of a scalpel moving towards his face. A dim light filtered through Lloyds closed eyes, turning his world red. Jumping awake with a gasp, he looked around wildly, alone now still in the same room as before. His face ached dully and his mouth felt different somehow, automatically he tried to move his hand to feel it and then screamed. He couldn't feel his arms and raising his head he beheld the horrific sight of his body; where his legs and arms used to be sat four stitched stumps. He screamed again unable to contain the torrent of anguish that poured out of him. Over and over he cried voicing his pain, but no one came. Eventually he stopped, he knew at that moment any hope of escape was gone; how could he escape if he couldn't move. Lloyd desperately wanted to see his face, the aching pain had increased and his mouth and nose felt different somehow.
A few moments later the electronic door clicked open and he saw the the same women who had instructed the surgeons. Kirsty smirked as she neared Lloyd's bed, it was gratifying to see the man's appearance finally matching his monstrous nature.
“Hmmmm looking good Lloyd, we always do a good job here at the special section.” Her smile widened as she stood over him, seeing his face properly.
“Well Lloyd I know you've seen your arms and legs, or should I say lack of them.” She chuckled as she spoke.
“But now I'd like to show you the full extent of your disfigurement.” With a theatrical flourish she held a mirror in front of Lloyd's face. He didn't recognise the monster that stared back at him, where his nose had been there was nothing but a ragged gaping hole. His chin was drastically extended and his whole lower face looked huge complemented by an overextended mouth. He gulped opening his mouth in shocked revelation; somehow they had almost tripled the size of his mouth making him look more like a fish than a human. Lloyd tried to speak,
“whu why,” his voice sounded thick and almost unrecognisable to him.
Kirsty looked down at the loathed figure on the bed and laughed in complete derision.
“You ask why Lloyd, isn't it obvious? because you deserve it. Unfortunately I don't have the power to give you everlasting suffering, but believe me if I could Lloyd then I would.” Her eyes burned with complete and utter hatred as she stared at him.
“I hope there is a hell Lloyd because once you exit my facility that's where you'll be heading you evil, evil man.”
Lloyd listened to the venom that poured from her mouth with a growing sense of dread. This women was obviously in charge of the facility and if she was filled with such hatred towards him then what chance did he have. He lay there and watched her as she peered down at him with open disgust, enjoying his obvious discomfort. After a moment she turned around and walked out of the room, as three armour clad guards entered.
Lloyd's straps were removed and then a large ruck sack type bag was placed next to him. The ruck sack was opened, while two guards placed him inside. It had obviously been designed for this very purpose. What was left of his body was totally enclosed within the canvas bag, while his head hung out of the bottom. Once he was inside, the largest guard hoisted the rucksack on her back. Lloyd was left hanging from inside the bag, his face resting against her trouser covered ass. Kirsty taunted Lloyd as they left the room, laughing as his head banged repeatedly against the guards buttocks. His life as a human was over, he no longer had the ability to direct his own future, even the simplest of choices was beyond him. Moaning softly he listened to the digs and slurs that Kirsty poured upon his soul, knowing there was nothing he could do to stop it.
“Your life is going to be a misery Lloyd, a never ending torrent of pain suffering and fear. I'm going to make you regret everything you inflicted on those poor women, and I'm going to enjoy it.” Her laughter filled his ears again, as his face bounced roughly against the guards toned bum.
Eventually they came to halt, and his world was turned upside down as he dropped to the floor. Wheezing with the impact he gazed up at Kirsty's leering face.
“Ok girls I think we'll leave him here for now, you may go.” The guards saluted as they strode away leaving Lloyd to examine his knew surroundings. There were a couple of chairs near to where he lay, and two occupants peered down at him with keen interest. They were both dressed in the facilities uniforms, their face's strong and beautiful.
“Martha, Emma I've got a little present for you,” said Kirsty, as she nudged him with her boot. “As you know this creature is evil, and as such needs to be punished severely.” The women nodded as they listened, for the moment ignoring Lloyd..
“Well after much thought,” she continued, “I have decided that the first phase of his punishment should involve, humiliation as this is something that he was willing to dish out, let it now be inflicted on him.” The two women giggled, their eyes growing wider as they listened.
“So to that end ladies I'm issuing an order. That order is that from this time forth there shall never be a moment that goes by where Lloyd isn't either smelling, licking or worshipping our feet.”
Martha and Emma both began to laugh, try as they might they couldn't hold it inside. Kirsty waited a moment and then raised her hand, as the girls regained control.
“So while your sitting in your booth, guarding this exit you will also be inflicting your feet on that.” she pointed at Lloyd. “Do you understand?”
“Yes Ma'am,” they answered simultaneously acknowledging Kirsty's authority. Satisfied that her orders had been understood she left smirking.
“Well,” said Martha the plumper woman, “can I go first Em, you know my feet really stink when I've been wearing these boots and I'd love to try um out.”
Emma giggled, “course you can love, it looks like there's going to be plenty of him to go around anyhow.”
Lloyd grunted as they positioned him directly underneath Martha's chair. His head was sandwiched between her working boots, which pinched and scraped his face. She reached down unfastening her right boot, her pretty round face hovering above his. She slowly raised her leg, so that her foot hung above his face, large damp patches clearly visible on her black nylon socks. It was like a physical blow when the smell first hit him, cloying and sweet rushing into his nose hole. He understood then why they'd mutilated his nose, it was as if the enlarged hole was picking up every bit of the odorous. Lloyd watched transfixed as her toes slowly curled, releasing a fresh torrent of stink upon him.
Lloyd coughed slightly as he tried to breath through his mouth, but the smell seemed to have permeated inside somehow, contained within his every breath. Her foot still hadn't descended yet, it was as if she knew that the anticipation of the act was its own form of torture.. Seconds passed slowly as time seemed to slow down, it was if he was stuck in a loop, forced to observe the hideous feet that wiggled above his face. As he endured, their voices filtered down to him; inane chatter about their planned evenings, which filled him with anger. He'd always hated listening to women gossip, their conversations dull and seemingly pointless and yet it was something that they drew great pleasure from. Grunting with the effort he forced his damaged mouth to function, “Shhurt urrp, stuuupiiid slllaarrgs.”
His voice was more like the call of a wounded animal, sounding thick and stupid in his own ears. Laughter slammed into him, they were actually giggling at his outburst as if he was of no more importance than a joke. Her fetid foot weaving and waving closer now, inching towards his face reinforced this opinion. Lloyd tried to look away, but he felt hypnotised, the smell growing greater and ever more pungent. At least they'd stopped laughing now, but their incessant chatter was just as bad, ignoring him as he was subjected to this indignity. Then it happened, the moment that he'd feared, as the damp,sticky nylon brushed against his cheek.
At least he'd managed to turn his head, that was something, he thought. The small victory was short lived however, as with a casual flick of her booted foot she turned it back. Small explosions of light seemed to dance behind his eyes, as he was forced to bare the full brunt of her foot. Squirming toes, reached, grasping and holding his face, covering and filling the hole that now served as his nose. The option of breathing through his mouth had gone, her hard heel pushed against it sealing it tight. Never could he have imagined the humiliation and shame that burned through his once proud veins, how was it that he had ended up like this. Stale sweat continued to flow into his sense's, filling him with disgust and adding to his already immense hatred of women.
Martha took a sip of tea, enjoying her conversation with Emma; they'd been sentry partners for nearly two years now and had become firm friends. Tonight though was special, every moment had a sparkling quality which she knew would last in her memory. It wasn't often that the lower ranked guards got given a chance to punish, this was something that was more the pleasure of the officers and longer serving guards. Of course this had never bothered her, in fact she understood the necessity of rules and order. Being of the mind that when she did actually get the chance, at least she knew that it was well deserved.
Now though as she conversed with her friend, she wondered how she'd gone so long without experiencing this high. Toying with the word in her mind she smiled, that was exactly what it was; a high based on the power that she now held. Stretching slightly, she began to rock her leg enjoying the feel of her damp sole moving the creatures head. It was funny how she could curl her toes inside his nose, or what used to be a nose she corrected herself. Experimenting with this she giggled slightly, as she felt his struggle, squirming beneath her torture. Even from where she sat, the smell of her own feet was distinct and rather nasty, she pondered what Lloyd must be experiencing and grinned again.
There was a feeling which if asked, Lloyd would have struggled to describe. Something strange that filled his whole being and made what was left of his body shake. To call it fear would have been the same as calling a lion a cat. It was similar to fear and yet much deeper, spreading through his mind, filling him with a deep anxiety. The emotion left him breathless, compounded by Martha's toes which seemed to be trying to enter his skull through his nose. He struggled futilely against her foot, straining his neck to remove her toes from his face. It was a useless act, her toes were hooked into him, the moist nylon rubbing painfully against his still raw wounds. Unable to stop himself he moaned quietly, and then louder and louder as the suffering overwhelmed him.
The women's chatter ceased, drowned out by his calls and then she spoke,
“Stop your noise Lloyd.” She punctuated her sentence by sharply applying pressure on his face, and then releasing it.
“We shouldn't have to listen to you, your voice isn't worthy of entering our ears, so suffer in silence, or else.” Once again she emphasised her threat by stamping down on his face causing an explosion of pain that shook him to his core. His moans subsided, replaced by a low snivelling which too ceased as her foot continued to roam across his undefended face. He sniffed her stink, over and over, the sharp vinegary cheesy smell inhaled and expelled mechanically, almost robot like. There was no other option available to him, nothing but the foot that covered his face, he had no means to move, nothing that he could do to escape the situation. Time became meaningless, he didn't know how long he was subjected to the smell but suddenly it was gone. Lloyd had forgotten how sweet and clean fresh air could be, he drank deeply like a man dying of thirst, gulping great breaths.
His dazed eyes focussed again as the air had an almost restorative effect upon him. Shaking his head to clear away the last of the cobwebs, he looked up and immediately wished he hadn't. The sight brought panic as he began rock inside of his bag. The two women laughed down at him, jeering as he began to thrash around on the floor like a fish out of water. Martha's feet were still there, his reprieve was temporary and he knew it was soon to be over. She'd removed her other boot, and also both of her socks so that her bare feet were displayed to him. The toes were the worst, slightly wrinkled and covered in black flecks of lint, and dead skin. They flexed above him, as she perched on the edge of her chair, her legs pulled into a crouching position. With a quick thrust she plunged them down, slapping wetly on his awaiting face. Lloyd was in a dark place, not a glimmer of light entered his realm, there was nothing but a slimy, clammy feeling and a rank, rotten smell. Martha's feet sat firmly on this face, covering it completely as they slowly rubbed forward and backwards over his skin transferring the sweaty smell onto his face.
A while later light flashed into the darkness, and Lloyd beheld the silhouette of her toes as they slid down his face until they stopped, wiggling over his nose hole. Blinking his eyes, he squinted upwards, his sight blurry and cloudy after being covered for so long. Martha's smiling face came into view, bright blue eyes, accentuated by long mascaraed eyelashes blinking back at him
“Now then Lloyd,” she called, her voice soft and seductive, “I've had fun ignoring you, treating you like a footstool, which is really all you are now.” She paused as she spoke and an almost wistful look passed over her face.
“But now that Emma has gone on her break, and I'm here all alone, well I just need a little bit more from you.” She puckered her red glossed lips and blew him a kiss. Lloyd moved his dry lips, trying to speak, but the pressure from her foot increased again sealing his mouth.
“Shhhhhhh,” cooed Martha, I don't want you to speak Lloyd, in fact there's only one thing that I require of you.” She forced her bare toes into his nose hole as she spoke.
“Sniff you rotten excuse for a life, sniff like your worthless life depended on it.”
Lloyd screamed not in pain or fear, but in blind red anger. His hate fuelled roar sounded muffled and pitiful through Martha's feet, and the end result elicited more derisive laughter. Breathing as shallowly as possible he tried to defy her, there wasn't much else he could do, but he'd never willingly take a deep sniff of her feet.
'Who do they think their dealing with,' he thought.
I'm not just some two bit criminal who can be controlled, I was feared throughout Britain.'
His thoughts helped to restore some of his former arrogance, and for the first time since his ordeal he looked into Martha's eyes with complete superiority. As if sensing the change in her subject, she abruptly drove both of her heels down into his elongated mouth. Another roar exploded from his mouth, this one fuelled completely by pain. Burning hot fingers lanced through his head, it was a feeling unlike anything that he'd experienced before, a constricting, crushing black agony that enveloped him. He struggled violently against the crushing force, but nothing happened he couldn't shift his head. He was at the point of loosing consciousness, when the pressure was reduced although her feet still rested lightly on his mouth.
She gazed down at him angrily, “I told you to sniff Lloyd, when I tell you to sniff I want you to inhale my scent as deeply as you can, understand? Mut?”
She spat the last of her sentence at him, covering his face with a fine spray of spittle.
“Now fucking sniff my dirty, stinking toes Lloyd.”
He sniffed, slowly at first, tentatively experiencing the full depth of the horrible toe odour. Deeper and deeper he breathed, each shame filled intake drawing in more and more of her cheesy, vinegary foot foulness.
“That's it sniff Lloyd, that's your purpose in life now, to smell my stinky toes.” She began to giggle to herself as she spoke, until she was laughing almost manically while pointing her manicured finger at him.
“Oh god,” she laughed, “if only you could see what you've become Lloyd, your ever so comical, just a head sticking out of a bag, with a hole that sniffs my feet.” Her taunt sliced into what remained of his pride, as he fought against the tears that threatened his eyes.
'Not going to cry,' he thought, 'won't give them the satisfaction, I'm stronger than that.'
He talked to himself constantly, ordering his thoughts and trying to marshal what remained of his strength. His breathing slowed as he attempted to remain in control, which won an immediate reprimand from Martha as she increased the pressure in her heels. Wincing under the sharp influx of pain, he immediately resumed his previous deeper breaths, almost retching as the stench once again invaded.
“Ohhhh my poor little man,” soothed Martha her voice thick with sarcasm. “Is the nasty lady making you smell her stinky, pooey toes, you poor thing.”
She added to her insincerity by reaching down and petting his head with her soft hand. Her mocking voice further added to his desolation, the torrent of emotion that had threatened to break through suddenly did. Completely against his will his eye's first watered, then released a single tear which trickled down his cheek. His humiliation complete as her insipid laughter filled his ears, eyes flashing in delight at his misery. Her bare feet continued to explore his face, delving and grasping imprinting their potent smell upon him. This went on for some time, her barked commands and threats of pain causing him sniff her sweaty feet over and over.
At last there was a break in the humiliation as Emma returned, her heavy work boots clicking on the tiled floor.
“Hey Martha, I can see your getting your use out of it, do you mind sharing?” She asked. Grinning. Martha removed her feet, and gestured towards Lloyd,
“go ahead love fill your boots.”
She tittered at her pun as she stood up and moved away from Lloyd, leaving the way clear for Emma to manoeuvre. Sitting in the chair she peered down at Lloyd, wearing a similar I'm in charge and there's nothing you can do about it smile.
“Well now Lloyd I heard that you got your kicks from humiliating women, and then torturing them,” she paused as her breath hitched, suddenly serious.
“sometimes to death.” Her face hardened as she stared at him, as if she had just realised what a piece of work was lying at her feet.
“Well get ready Lloyd, because this is for every women that you ever wronged and by the end of it I hope you want to die.” She hissed, her deep resentment and hatred evident on her flawless face.
There was no messing around with Emma, none of the theatrics that Martha had employed. Within a few moments she had both her boots and socks off, revealing her dirty, sticky soles. These were dropped unceremoniously upon the footstool, (which also served as Lloyds face) while she began to knead and grind his face. A strange feeling that almost bordered on relief filled him, comparatively speaking Emma's foot odour was a walk in the park, nothing like the thick cloying stench of Martha's. There was a still a distinct smell of sweat, and a sharp cheesy tang but it was a much more delicate stink that Lloyd could almost breath freely.
'Its not so bad,' he thought, and then immediately hated himself for such a revelation.
He didn't understand how he could even entertain such a thought.
'Its not so bad, not so bad that this bitch has got her feet plastered over my face', he cursed silently, almost welcoming the anger that distracted him momentarily from his present situation.
Emma's petite size five feet, explored every inch of his face, her long toes probing deep within his nose hole, while her other foot sealed up his mouth. Every breath that he inhaled was filtered through her toes first, although not as strong in odour Emma was certainly rougher with her feet. She crushed and squashed his face, sometimes stomping down hard, and then grinding the ball of her foot unmercifully on his head.
This continued for a while until she turned to Martha,
“Hey Marth will you give me a hand, I want to stand on its head.”
Martha laughed the sound maddening to Lloyds eyes, and walked over to Emma still bare foot. As Martha neared he once again caught the pungent scent of her feet, and unconsciously shuddered within his bag. The two women moved the chair aside, leaving room to move around Lloyd who looked up fearfully. Positioning her feet at both sides of Lloyd's head, Martha reached out and helped Emma to clamber straight onto Lloyds face. The removal of his nose had made such a feat much easier, and once she was aboard, it was a straight forward task to stay that way.
Peals of loud laughter once again assaulted him, blind to their mocking face's, crushed in an inky blackness, trapped beneath Emma's soles. Bright lights seemed to swim before his face, as the balls of her feet pushed downwards upon his eye socket He groaned and whimpered, no longer caring if they heard him, but they didn't his mouth was completely covered by her feet. The pain was increasing second by second, an awful continuous throbbing that grew in intensity as time slipped by. Lloyd sucked breath through his nose hole with great difficulty, only a small crack remained open between her to feet.
'I'm going to die,' the thought repeated over and over in his mind. The pain was unbearable now, worse than anything he had ever felt before, blinding and biting into his mind. The women chatted between themselves as Lloyd suffered, completely unconcerned about the suffering that they were inflicting upon him. Suddenly something changed, adding another layer of misery to his already abused life, he caught the scent of Martha's foot odour. Seeing that Emma could stand without any effort upon his face, she thought that she would get in on the action. Her right foot was now held between Emma's legs, her toes wiggling furiously above the crack that served as his air hole. The stink was awful, but coupled with the pain and subjugation that he was already experiencing made it completely unbearable. Lloyd began to strain with all his might, tensing his neck, trying to force his head to turn. Nothing happened, there hadn't even been a wobble, still trapped beneath Emma's feet, while Martha's stink was sucked up his nose hole.
After what could have been a life time for Lloyd, but in actuality was just over five minutes Emma jumped down. Lloyd gasped sucking in air desperately and wishing more than anything that he had hands so that he could rub his throbbing face.
“Well that was fun Lloyd,” Emma giggle delighted with the feeling of power that had possessed her as she stood on his face.
“What do you think Martha? Should we do that again, I'm sure that he enjoyed it!”
Lloyd had heard enough, he wailed pathetically, his head thrashing from left to right as the tears that he'd fought so hard against, rolled freely down his foot reddened face. This brought further laughter, as the women clapped each other on the shoulder, both almost laughing hysterically at him. Eventually Martha managed to regain some control and responded.
“Of course we should do it again Emma, we can't deny him the honour of being stood on while he gets to smell my regal feet.” She moved her foot quickly over his face while she spoke, enjoying the look of disgust he gave.
“Pluu, pluu please, dhoont dho dthat, I'll do anythiing yhou want, jjhust not thhat.” Lloyd half shouted, half mumbled his outburst as his emotional voice, wavered rising and falling like a swallow. Both women stared hard at him, glanced at each other and then Emma suddenly moved rapidly towards him. Her hand shot down, gripping the canvas of his bag, while she pulled his face closer to hers.
“Now listen, you fucking piece of shit. I know that you'll do anything we want because you don't have a choice dear.” She shouted, gleefully drinking in his terror. Dropping him back to the floor Emma moved around once again, and steadied her self on Martha as she climbed up. The sound's of Lloyds animal like screams accompanied her as she moved, giving her a great sense of satisfaction and authority. The experience felt worse than before for Lloyd, his already bruised face cried out in agony at the brunt of this fresh assault.
Eventually it came to an end and Lloyd was placed back underneath Emma's chair, her feet resting back on his face.
“Now then Lloyd, there's one thing that both myself and Martha haven't indulged in yet can you guess what that is?”
Lloyd looked up at her from tear stained eyes, as he shook his head wearily.
“You don't know Lloyd? Well that's hardly surprising is it? What with your lack of intelligence I mean you exist for the sole purpose of satisfying our sadistic desires. You must be pretty thick to let yourself get in that position.” Martha giggled as Emma continued.
“Instead of telling you, I think I'll show you. I mean they say a pictures worth a thousand words, so I'm sure that an action must be better as well.”
As she stopped speaking her feet shifted upon his face, for a moment they were poised above it, her chipped pink toe polish almost touching his lips. Then her foot plunged straight against his lips and then through straight into his mouth, bringing understanding and a new wave of self disgust.
'That's why they operated on my mouth,' Lloyd thought as he felt the whole of her foot enter his greatly enlarged maw. It was true, her complete right size 5 foot was encased within his mouth, his lips wrapped around her ankle, which stuck out of his mouth.
“Ha, ha, ha,” laughed Emma, “look Martha it works, who else would have thought of this, I always said that Kirsty was a genius.”
Martha nodded, staring at the strange sight with a mixture of amazement of barely contained amusement.
“You know what they said about that Lloyd Mitchell don't you?” Asked Martha taking on a somewhat more serious tone.
“No what,” she answered, looking slightly puzzled at her friend.
“ He was always putting his foot in his mouth.” Martha almost broke down as she finished her joke, roaring and shaking on her chair.
“Really Martha that was awful,” chided Emma stifling a small chuckle.
“I know , I know,” she responded, “sorry chick couldn't help myself.
Emma turned her attention back to the matter at hand, regarding the excuse for a life form which seemed to be attached to the end of her ankle. Emma wiggled her toes within his mouth, enjoying the feeling of his soft cheeks, rubbing against her sensitive foot. Lloyds eyes seemed to bulge as he peered up at Emma, the taste of her bitter, salty perspiration was in every swallow that he was forced to make. Now that the foot was inside his mouth, there was no dislodging it until Emma decided to pull it out. His tongue wiggled over her soles, feeling the callouses and hardened skin which adorned the heels and ball of her foot.
“Oh Martha, you have got to give this a go,” she cooed a dreamy, slightly sleepy look in her eyes.
“Its like a foot bath, but so much more relaxing,” she wiggled her foot inside his mouth as she spoke, Lloyds tongue wriggling uncontrollably in response.
“You bet,” she said, “I can't wait to let it clean my size 7's, just hope they'll fit!”
Lloyd shuddered again, feeling queasy and slightly faint at the prospect of cleaning Martha's greasy feet. Emma continued to punish his mouth, deeming that half an hour was an appropriate time for each foot. After she was satisfied that the job was done, she moved back letting Martha once again take the hot seat.
Martha raised her right foot and then her left, wiggling her stubby toes releasing more of her pungent odour. Lloyd silently thanked god that Martha had stayed barefoot, although her feet were still disgusting the strength of the stench had reduced slightly.
“Now then pet, you've had your appetiser I think its time you enjoyed the main course.”
Without another word she slowly began to lower her right foot, the smell and Lloyds disgust increasing with every inch. Martha watched him from above, loving the reaction that her feet caused as they descended. The big toe brushed his lips the rank, disgusting taste flooding into his mouth; much more bitter and salty than Emma's. Inevitably the rest of her toes followed, pushed straight inside. She forced down hard until her heel, brushed hard against Lloyds bottom gums and then with a slight popping sound she was in.
“Ohh it does feel nice Emma, its like having my foot inside a warm jelly.” She wiggled her toes as she spoke.
“I know its lovely hun.” Smiled Emma taking a picture of Lloyd on her phone.
“You should see this pic Martha, gosh it looks so strange with him just hanging off your leg.”
“I bet,” laughed Martha. While she chatted she brought her other foot over Lloyds nose hole, wiggling her toes to release fresh odour. The stale, stinky smell permeated his senses once again, accompanied by her sour tasting sweat.
Suddenly the door to the booth opened, admitting Kirsty and a big built guard.
“Glad to see your making good use of it Martha,” laughed Kirsty.
“Yes ma'am we've never let it out from under our feet.”
“good, good, well I'm afraid that I'm going to have to cut this short now ladies. He's got an appointment in the beauty parlour.”
Martha and Emma both looked disappointed, but assented to Kirsty's authority. Lloyd was hoisted back up onto the guards shoulders, as they started towards his next destination.
'Beauty parlour?' pondered Lloyd, and that's where we'll leave him, worrying about his next punishment. So until next time dear readers, I bid you goodbye.
A Tale From The Special Section:- Lloyds Punishment
Lloyd was worried, a feeling that didn't sit well with him. It was something he wasn't used to and it filled him with a deep trepidation. Huddled on the cold concrete floor of the cell, he glanced furtively around searching, desperate for a way out of the prison. Of course there wasn't one, the only entrance, the thick steel door through which he had been unceremoniously thrown. He shivered uncontrollably his naked body, abused by the cold inhospitable air. Time had become meaningless within this place, although he estimated that at least 4 hours had passed since his incarceration. He stood up pacing the cell, his feet cold and sore from the rough floor. Deep down he knew that there was little hope, but as is human nature the small smouldering spark that he could somehow escape persisted in his sadistic mind.
Anger came and passed as the slow lonely hours continued to slide by, left with nothing but his own mind and the freezing ache of the cool air. He'd screamed himself hoarse in the first hours of his imprisonment, banged his clenched fists against the steel door futilely. The only sign that he was being monitored, was the black lens of a security camera, fixed in the corner of the wall. Apprehensive thoughts continued to run rings in his brain,
'What are they planning, its going to hurt, just got to try and hide my pain, can't let them see my fear.' Coaching himself mentally, he did what he could to prepare for his unknown fate.
In a room not more than 200 ft from where Lloyd crouched, sat the attractive figure of Kirsty the current chief warden of the Special Section. Her face was a picture of disgust as she ploughed through the case file of her new ward. Never before had this facility housed an animal of Lloyds nature, the pages of his file presented more and more monstrous atrocities which upset and angered her. His killing and torture of his victims had been indiscriminate, never following any set pattern which had drawn out and complicated his eventual capture. The only common thread was that he attacked women, whether old or young but never men. He'd taken such pleasure in the dehumanization of his victims, indulging his sick desires with more and more elaborate forms of torture and humiliation. Eventually, Kirsty finished and dropped the offensive material down on her desk, her breath hitched and she began to sob quietly.
It had been necessary for her to understand the malice and coldness with which Lloyd had carried out his crimes, but now she felt sick and somehow soiled after absorbing the abhorrent misery from the case files. Still holding her head in her hands, she let the sympathetic grief pour out of her feeling compassion for all the victims of this monster. After a while she regained composure, her mind slightly drained but feeling better from the release of her pent up emotion. Kirsty had been the chief warden at the correctional facility for over two years now, and her reign had been met with acceptance and praise from her guards and staff. Never before had there been a warden who had created such ingenious, and novel ways to punish prisoners. Her record was impeccable, none of her wards that had been released within the last two years had returned which of course was her goal.
And now there was Lloyd, even thinking the man's name made her skin crawl. This was the big one she knew without a shadow of doubt that her actions with this man would be recorded in history. He was the first prisoner to walk in these walls, carrying a death sentence. The gravity frequency and maliciousness of crimes could have had no other outcome. There was to be no rehabilitation for this one, he would live the rest of his life within her walls and eventually die there.
'At least,' she thought,
'the victims families should find some small solace in that.'
Now the punishment was to be decided, and it was something she'd tested her brain with. This couldn't be a rush job, or a quick and easy death no that wouldn't do. She knew that she had to think of something ingenious, something that would destroy the man that he was. Her goal was to make Lloyd beg to be granted death, for him to see his demise as a release and not a punishment.
She pondered the problem deeply, trying to be as objective as possible; and yet her mind couldn't help but be clouded with hate and anger which slowed the formulation of ideas. Many minutes past without her noticing, in sharp contrast to Lloyd where time almost seemed to move backwards. After almost two hours a slow smile spread across her face, she knew what she would do and with a satisfied grunt began to make preparations.
Lloyd groaned as he rolled over on the cold floor, the rough surface threatening to break him out of the light sleep he'd found. A sharp click and metallic creaking awoke him from his troubled slumber; as a group of four women stormed into the room. They were wearing the same stark uniform as the group that had transported him from reality, to this hellish existence. Their countenance were undistinguishable, hidden behind there darkened face plates, dark and intimidating. Lloyd jumped to a half upright position as they invaded his cell, scrambling backwards, trying to find refuge against the unrelenting wall. The invaders moved with common purpose towards him, neither speaking or slowing down as they gathered at either side. He knew that resistance was pointless, the earlier beating still a painful reminder.
“Please, wha what is it you want me to do, just tell me i'll do it.” Murmured Lloyd desperately wanting to avoid any pain from these heavily armed women. They gave no response as they moved forward and grabbed him. Hoisting him bodily above there heads, so that he rested as a dead weight on their shoulders. They moved him unceremoniously, paying him the same attention that one might give luggage. Lloyd stared at the illuminated panel lighting as they marched towards an unknown destination. If he concentrated hard enough he could almost imagine that he was on a stretcher, in a hospital and not destined for who knew what within the prison. It didn't take long for the women's march to end, and Lloyd heard the click of an electronic lock as they entered another room. They slung him down onto a hard metal table, and proceeded to strap him down, restraining him tightly .
Once he was secure they turned still without speaking and left. Lloyd looked around the room as best he could from his horizontal position. Directly above him was a set of lights attached to a movable arm, and glancing to his right he could see a metal tray containing a set of unmistakable medical instruments. The revelations sent shivers of apprehension down his spine, and an icy sweat broke out on his brow.
'What are they going to do to me, there going to operate on me, but what.' His already overstressed mind raced with new fear and he felt the now familiar feeling of adrenaline rush through his veins. Fortunately or maybe unfortunately depending on his outlook he didn't have to wait long to find out. There was the click of the electronic lock again and three new people entered the room. The women who entered first was maybe in her mid thirties, with sleek straightened shoulder length hair. Her face was exquisitely pretty with model like features, framed by her sleek stylish hair. She moved with a grace and hard authority, that gave Lloyd the impression that she was the boss. Accompanying her were two other women, both dressed in the characteristic clothes of surgeons; there bodies covered in white smocks.
Kirsty advanced, her piercing blue eyes fixed firmly upon Lloyd's. She could almost feel the fear that emanated from him and it filled her with a warm feeling. Kirsty was no monster, but she couldn't help the satisfaction that washed over her. Here was the beast that had killed and tortured numerous women, lying helpless.
'Now who's the victim,' she thought, as she neared the table staring contemptuously at his frightened eyes.
Turning to her right she addressed the lead surgeon, “Claire are you completely certain, that we can't do the operation without anaesthetic?”
Claire Nodded, “I'm afraid so, if we want to give him every chance of living, then its something that we can't risk.”
Kirsty grimaced slightly at the response, it was a conversation that they had already had and yet she longed to let him endure the full slice of the blade.
“Ok, I understand,” she conceded, “just do your best to keep it alive,” .
Without saying another word she turned and left the surgeons, she'd save her words for Lloyd once the operation had completed. Lloyd listened to the women's words, hating the helplessness and fear that wouldn't stop. He wanted to rage and fight against his bonds, to scream and rant threatening the three women; but he didn't. He wasn't a stupid man, the length of time that he'd evaded capture was a testament to that. Knowing from experience that any threats or attempt to appeal to their better nature would be wasted. The normal position of power that he'd enjoyed during his criminal acts had been reversed, so this was what it felt to be a victim. Though the chances were slim, he still hoped that they'd give him the opportunity to get away, and then he would pounce with both hands.
laying quietly on the bed he studied the two surgeons looking down at him; their face's were so cold. Abruptly the taller women placed a mask on his face and he felt the icy breath of gas. The last thing he saw before he slipped from consciousness, was the blade of a scalpel moving towards his face. A dim light filtered through Lloyds closed eyes, turning his world red. Jumping awake with a gasp, he looked around wildly, alone now still in the same room as before. His face ached dully and his mouth felt different somehow, automatically he tried to move his hand to feel it and then screamed. He couldn't feel his arms and raising his head he beheld the horrific sight of his body; where his legs and arms used to be sat four stitched stumps. He screamed again unable to contain the torrent of anguish that poured out of him. Over and over he cried voicing his pain, but no one came. Eventually he stopped, he knew at that moment any hope of escape was gone; how could he escape if he couldn't move. Lloyd desperately wanted to see his face, the aching pain had increased and his mouth and nose felt different somehow.
A few moments later the electronic door clicked open and he saw the the same women who had instructed the surgeons. Kirsty smirked as she neared Lloyd's bed, it was gratifying to see the man's appearance finally matching his monstrous nature.
“Hmmmm looking good Lloyd, we always do a good job here at the special section.” Her smile widened as she stood over him, seeing his face properly.
“Well Lloyd I know you've seen your arms and legs, or should I say lack of them.” She chuckled as she spoke.
“But now I'd like to show you the full extent of your disfigurement.” With a theatrical flourish she held a mirror in front of Lloyd's face. He didn't recognise the monster that stared back at him, where his nose had been there was nothing but a ragged gaping hole. His chin was drastically extended and his whole lower face looked huge complemented by an overextended mouth. He gulped opening his mouth in shocked revelation; somehow they had almost tripled the size of his mouth making him look more like a fish than a human. Lloyd tried to speak,
“whu why,” his voice sounded thick and almost unrecognisable to him.
Kirsty looked down at the loathed figure on the bed and laughed in complete derision.
“You ask why Lloyd, isn't it obvious? because you deserve it. Unfortunately I don't have the power to give you everlasting suffering, but believe me if I could Lloyd then I would.” Her eyes burned with complete and utter hatred as she stared at him.
“I hope there is a hell Lloyd because once you exit my facility that's where you'll be heading you evil, evil man.”
Lloyd listened to the venom that poured from her mouth with a growing sense of dread. This women was obviously in charge of the facility and if she was filled with such hatred towards him then what chance did he have. He lay there and watched her as she peered down at him with open disgust, enjoying his obvious discomfort. After a moment she turned around and walked out of the room, as three armour clad guards entered.
Lloyd's straps were removed and then a large ruck sack type bag was placed next to him. The ruck sack was opened, while two guards placed him inside. It had obviously been designed for this very purpose. What was left of his body was totally enclosed within the canvas bag, while his head hung out of the bottom. Once he was inside, the largest guard hoisted the rucksack on her back. Lloyd was left hanging from inside the bag, his face resting against her trouser covered ass. Kirsty taunted Lloyd as they left the room, laughing as his head banged repeatedly against the guards buttocks. His life as a human was over, he no longer had the ability to direct his own future, even the simplest of choices was beyond him. Moaning softly he listened to the digs and slurs that Kirsty poured upon his soul, knowing there was nothing he could do to stop it.
“Your life is going to be a misery Lloyd, a never ending torrent of pain suffering and fear. I'm going to make you regret everything you inflicted on those poor women, and I'm going to enjoy it.” Her laughter filled his ears again, as his face bounced roughly against the guards toned bum.
Eventually they came to halt, and his world was turned upside down as he dropped to the floor. Wheezing with the impact he gazed up at Kirsty's leering face.
“Ok girls I think we'll leave him here for now, you may go.” The guards saluted as they strode away leaving Lloyd to examine his knew surroundings. There were a couple of chairs near to where he lay, and two occupants peered down at him with keen interest. They were both dressed in the facilities uniforms, their face's strong and beautiful.
“Martha, Emma I've got a little present for you,” said Kirsty, as she nudged him with her boot. “As you know this creature is evil, and as such needs to be punished severely.” The women nodded as they listened, for the moment ignoring Lloyd..
“Well after much thought,” she continued, “I have decided that the first phase of his punishment should involve, humiliation as this is something that he was willing to dish out, let it now be inflicted on him.” The two women giggled, their eyes growing wider as they listened.
“So to that end ladies I'm issuing an order. That order is that from this time forth there shall never be a moment that goes by where Lloyd isn't either smelling, licking or worshipping our feet.”
Martha and Emma both began to laugh, try as they might they couldn't hold it inside. Kirsty waited a moment and then raised her hand, as the girls regained control.
“So while your sitting in your booth, guarding this exit you will also be inflicting your feet on that.” she pointed at Lloyd. “Do you understand?”
“Yes Ma'am,” they answered simultaneously acknowledging Kirsty's authority. Satisfied that her orders had been understood she left smirking.
“Well,” said Martha the plumper woman, “can I go first Em, you know my feet really stink when I've been wearing these boots and I'd love to try um out.”
Emma giggled, “course you can love, it looks like there's going to be plenty of him to go around anyhow.”
Lloyd grunted as they positioned him directly underneath Martha's chair. His head was sandwiched between her working boots, which pinched and scraped his face. She reached down unfastening her right boot, her pretty round face hovering above his. She slowly raised her leg, so that her foot hung above his face, large damp patches clearly visible on her black nylon socks. It was like a physical blow when the smell first hit him, cloying and sweet rushing into his nose hole. He understood then why they'd mutilated his nose, it was as if the enlarged hole was picking up every bit of the odorous. Lloyd watched transfixed as her toes slowly curled, releasing a fresh torrent of stink upon him.
Lloyd coughed slightly as he tried to breath through his mouth, but the smell seemed to have permeated inside somehow, contained within his every breath. Her foot still hadn't descended yet, it was as if she knew that the anticipation of the act was its own form of torture.. Seconds passed slowly as time seemed to slow down, it was if he was stuck in a loop, forced to observe the hideous feet that wiggled above his face. As he endured, their voices filtered down to him; inane chatter about their planned evenings, which filled him with anger. He'd always hated listening to women gossip, their conversations dull and seemingly pointless and yet it was something that they drew great pleasure from. Grunting with the effort he forced his damaged mouth to function, “Shhurt urrp, stuuupiiid slllaarrgs.”
His voice was more like the call of a wounded animal, sounding thick and stupid in his own ears. Laughter slammed into him, they were actually giggling at his outburst as if he was of no more importance than a joke. Her fetid foot weaving and waving closer now, inching towards his face reinforced this opinion. Lloyd tried to look away, but he felt hypnotised, the smell growing greater and ever more pungent. At least they'd stopped laughing now, but their incessant chatter was just as bad, ignoring him as he was subjected to this indignity. Then it happened, the moment that he'd feared, as the damp,sticky nylon brushed against his cheek.
At least he'd managed to turn his head, that was something, he thought. The small victory was short lived however, as with a casual flick of her booted foot she turned it back. Small explosions of light seemed to dance behind his eyes, as he was forced to bare the full brunt of her foot. Squirming toes, reached, grasping and holding his face, covering and filling the hole that now served as his nose. The option of breathing through his mouth had gone, her hard heel pushed against it sealing it tight. Never could he have imagined the humiliation and shame that burned through his once proud veins, how was it that he had ended up like this. Stale sweat continued to flow into his sense's, filling him with disgust and adding to his already immense hatred of women.
Martha took a sip of tea, enjoying her conversation with Emma; they'd been sentry partners for nearly two years now and had become firm friends. Tonight though was special, every moment had a sparkling quality which she knew would last in her memory. It wasn't often that the lower ranked guards got given a chance to punish, this was something that was more the pleasure of the officers and longer serving guards. Of course this had never bothered her, in fact she understood the necessity of rules and order. Being of the mind that when she did actually get the chance, at least she knew that it was well deserved.
Now though as she conversed with her friend, she wondered how she'd gone so long without experiencing this high. Toying with the word in her mind she smiled, that was exactly what it was; a high based on the power that she now held. Stretching slightly, she began to rock her leg enjoying the feel of her damp sole moving the creatures head. It was funny how she could curl her toes inside his nose, or what used to be a nose she corrected herself. Experimenting with this she giggled slightly, as she felt his struggle, squirming beneath her torture. Even from where she sat, the smell of her own feet was distinct and rather nasty, she pondered what Lloyd must be experiencing and grinned again.
There was a feeling which if asked, Lloyd would have struggled to describe. Something strange that filled his whole being and made what was left of his body shake. To call it fear would have been the same as calling a lion a cat. It was similar to fear and yet much deeper, spreading through his mind, filling him with a deep anxiety. The emotion left him breathless, compounded by Martha's toes which seemed to be trying to enter his skull through his nose. He struggled futilely against her foot, straining his neck to remove her toes from his face. It was a useless act, her toes were hooked into him, the moist nylon rubbing painfully against his still raw wounds. Unable to stop himself he moaned quietly, and then louder and louder as the suffering overwhelmed him.
The women's chatter ceased, drowned out by his calls and then she spoke,
“Stop your noise Lloyd.” She punctuated her sentence by sharply applying pressure on his face, and then releasing it.
“We shouldn't have to listen to you, your voice isn't worthy of entering our ears, so suffer in silence, or else.” Once again she emphasised her threat by stamping down on his face causing an explosion of pain that shook him to his core. His moans subsided, replaced by a low snivelling which too ceased as her foot continued to roam across his undefended face. He sniffed her stink, over and over, the sharp vinegary cheesy smell inhaled and expelled mechanically, almost robot like. There was no other option available to him, nothing but the foot that covered his face, he had no means to move, nothing that he could do to escape the situation. Time became meaningless, he didn't know how long he was subjected to the smell but suddenly it was gone. Lloyd had forgotten how sweet and clean fresh air could be, he drank deeply like a man dying of thirst, gulping great breaths.
His dazed eyes focussed again as the air had an almost restorative effect upon him. Shaking his head to clear away the last of the cobwebs, he looked up and immediately wished he hadn't. The sight brought panic as he began rock inside of his bag. The two women laughed down at him, jeering as he began to thrash around on the floor like a fish out of water. Martha's feet were still there, his reprieve was temporary and he knew it was soon to be over. She'd removed her other boot, and also both of her socks so that her bare feet were displayed to him. The toes were the worst, slightly wrinkled and covered in black flecks of lint, and dead skin. They flexed above him, as she perched on the edge of her chair, her legs pulled into a crouching position. With a quick thrust she plunged them down, slapping wetly on his awaiting face. Lloyd was in a dark place, not a glimmer of light entered his realm, there was nothing but a slimy, clammy feeling and a rank, rotten smell. Martha's feet sat firmly on this face, covering it completely as they slowly rubbed forward and backwards over his skin transferring the sweaty smell onto his face.
A while later light flashed into the darkness, and Lloyd beheld the silhouette of her toes as they slid down his face until they stopped, wiggling over his nose hole. Blinking his eyes, he squinted upwards, his sight blurry and cloudy after being covered for so long. Martha's smiling face came into view, bright blue eyes, accentuated by long mascaraed eyelashes blinking back at him
“Now then Lloyd,” she called, her voice soft and seductive, “I've had fun ignoring you, treating you like a footstool, which is really all you are now.” She paused as she spoke and an almost wistful look passed over her face.
“But now that Emma has gone on her break, and I'm here all alone, well I just need a little bit more from you.” She puckered her red glossed lips and blew him a kiss. Lloyd moved his dry lips, trying to speak, but the pressure from her foot increased again sealing his mouth.
“Shhhhhhh,” cooed Martha, I don't want you to speak Lloyd, in fact there's only one thing that I require of you.” She forced her bare toes into his nose hole as she spoke.
“Sniff you rotten excuse for a life, sniff like your worthless life depended on it.”
Lloyd screamed not in pain or fear, but in blind red anger. His hate fuelled roar sounded muffled and pitiful through Martha's feet, and the end result elicited more derisive laughter. Breathing as shallowly as possible he tried to defy her, there wasn't much else he could do, but he'd never willingly take a deep sniff of her feet.
'Who do they think their dealing with,' he thought.
I'm not just some two bit criminal who can be controlled, I was feared throughout Britain.'
His thoughts helped to restore some of his former arrogance, and for the first time since his ordeal he looked into Martha's eyes with complete superiority. As if sensing the change in her subject, she abruptly drove both of her heels down into his elongated mouth. Another roar exploded from his mouth, this one fuelled completely by pain. Burning hot fingers lanced through his head, it was a feeling unlike anything that he'd experienced before, a constricting, crushing black agony that enveloped him. He struggled violently against the crushing force, but nothing happened he couldn't shift his head. He was at the point of loosing consciousness, when the pressure was reduced although her feet still rested lightly on his mouth.
She gazed down at him angrily, “I told you to sniff Lloyd, when I tell you to sniff I want you to inhale my scent as deeply as you can, understand? Mut?”
She spat the last of her sentence at him, covering his face with a fine spray of spittle.
“Now fucking sniff my dirty, stinking toes Lloyd.”
He sniffed, slowly at first, tentatively experiencing the full depth of the horrible toe odour. Deeper and deeper he breathed, each shame filled intake drawing in more and more of her cheesy, vinegary foot foulness.
“That's it sniff Lloyd, that's your purpose in life now, to smell my stinky toes.” She began to giggle to herself as she spoke, until she was laughing almost manically while pointing her manicured finger at him.
“Oh god,” she laughed, “if only you could see what you've become Lloyd, your ever so comical, just a head sticking out of a bag, with a hole that sniffs my feet.” Her taunt sliced into what remained of his pride, as he fought against the tears that threatened his eyes.
'Not going to cry,' he thought, 'won't give them the satisfaction, I'm stronger than that.'
He talked to himself constantly, ordering his thoughts and trying to marshal what remained of his strength. His breathing slowed as he attempted to remain in control, which won an immediate reprimand from Martha as she increased the pressure in her heels. Wincing under the sharp influx of pain, he immediately resumed his previous deeper breaths, almost retching as the stench once again invaded.
“Ohhhh my poor little man,” soothed Martha her voice thick with sarcasm. “Is the nasty lady making you smell her stinky, pooey toes, you poor thing.”
She added to her insincerity by reaching down and petting his head with her soft hand. Her mocking voice further added to his desolation, the torrent of emotion that had threatened to break through suddenly did. Completely against his will his eye's first watered, then released a single tear which trickled down his cheek. His humiliation complete as her insipid laughter filled his ears, eyes flashing in delight at his misery. Her bare feet continued to explore his face, delving and grasping imprinting their potent smell upon him. This went on for some time, her barked commands and threats of pain causing him sniff her sweaty feet over and over.
At last there was a break in the humiliation as Emma returned, her heavy work boots clicking on the tiled floor.
“Hey Martha, I can see your getting your use out of it, do you mind sharing?” She asked. Grinning. Martha removed her feet, and gestured towards Lloyd,
“go ahead love fill your boots.”
She tittered at her pun as she stood up and moved away from Lloyd, leaving the way clear for Emma to manoeuvre. Sitting in the chair she peered down at Lloyd, wearing a similar I'm in charge and there's nothing you can do about it smile.
“Well now Lloyd I heard that you got your kicks from humiliating women, and then torturing them,” she paused as her breath hitched, suddenly serious.
“sometimes to death.” Her face hardened as she stared at him, as if she had just realised what a piece of work was lying at her feet.
“Well get ready Lloyd, because this is for every women that you ever wronged and by the end of it I hope you want to die.” She hissed, her deep resentment and hatred evident on her flawless face.
There was no messing around with Emma, none of the theatrics that Martha had employed. Within a few moments she had both her boots and socks off, revealing her dirty, sticky soles. These were dropped unceremoniously upon the footstool, (which also served as Lloyds face) while she began to knead and grind his face. A strange feeling that almost bordered on relief filled him, comparatively speaking Emma's foot odour was a walk in the park, nothing like the thick cloying stench of Martha's. There was a still a distinct smell of sweat, and a sharp cheesy tang but it was a much more delicate stink that Lloyd could almost breath freely.
'Its not so bad,' he thought, and then immediately hated himself for such a revelation.
He didn't understand how he could even entertain such a thought.
'Its not so bad, not so bad that this bitch has got her feet plastered over my face', he cursed silently, almost welcoming the anger that distracted him momentarily from his present situation.
Emma's petite size five feet, explored every inch of his face, her long toes probing deep within his nose hole, while her other foot sealed up his mouth. Every breath that he inhaled was filtered through her toes first, although not as strong in odour Emma was certainly rougher with her feet. She crushed and squashed his face, sometimes stomping down hard, and then grinding the ball of her foot unmercifully on his head.
This continued for a while until she turned to Martha,
“Hey Marth will you give me a hand, I want to stand on its head.”
Martha laughed the sound maddening to Lloyds eyes, and walked over to Emma still bare foot. As Martha neared he once again caught the pungent scent of her feet, and unconsciously shuddered within his bag. The two women moved the chair aside, leaving room to move around Lloyd who looked up fearfully. Positioning her feet at both sides of Lloyd's head, Martha reached out and helped Emma to clamber straight onto Lloyds face. The removal of his nose had made such a feat much easier, and once she was aboard, it was a straight forward task to stay that way.
Peals of loud laughter once again assaulted him, blind to their mocking face's, crushed in an inky blackness, trapped beneath Emma's soles. Bright lights seemed to swim before his face, as the balls of her feet pushed downwards upon his eye socket He groaned and whimpered, no longer caring if they heard him, but they didn't his mouth was completely covered by her feet. The pain was increasing second by second, an awful continuous throbbing that grew in intensity as time slipped by. Lloyd sucked breath through his nose hole with great difficulty, only a small crack remained open between her to feet.
'I'm going to die,' the thought repeated over and over in his mind. The pain was unbearable now, worse than anything he had ever felt before, blinding and biting into his mind. The women chatted between themselves as Lloyd suffered, completely unconcerned about the suffering that they were inflicting upon him. Suddenly something changed, adding another layer of misery to his already abused life, he caught the scent of Martha's foot odour. Seeing that Emma could stand without any effort upon his face, she thought that she would get in on the action. Her right foot was now held between Emma's legs, her toes wiggling furiously above the crack that served as his air hole. The stink was awful, but coupled with the pain and subjugation that he was already experiencing made it completely unbearable. Lloyd began to strain with all his might, tensing his neck, trying to force his head to turn. Nothing happened, there hadn't even been a wobble, still trapped beneath Emma's feet, while Martha's stink was sucked up his nose hole.
After what could have been a life time for Lloyd, but in actuality was just over five minutes Emma jumped down. Lloyd gasped sucking in air desperately and wishing more than anything that he had hands so that he could rub his throbbing face.
“Well that was fun Lloyd,” Emma giggle delighted with the feeling of power that had possessed her as she stood on his face.
“What do you think Martha? Should we do that again, I'm sure that he enjoyed it!”
Lloyd had heard enough, he wailed pathetically, his head thrashing from left to right as the tears that he'd fought so hard against, rolled freely down his foot reddened face. This brought further laughter, as the women clapped each other on the shoulder, both almost laughing hysterically at him. Eventually Martha managed to regain some control and responded.
“Of course we should do it again Emma, we can't deny him the honour of being stood on while he gets to smell my regal feet.” She moved her foot quickly over his face while she spoke, enjoying the look of disgust he gave.
“Pluu, pluu please, dhoont dho dthat, I'll do anythiing yhou want, jjhust not thhat.” Lloyd half shouted, half mumbled his outburst as his emotional voice, wavered rising and falling like a swallow. Both women stared hard at him, glanced at each other and then Emma suddenly moved rapidly towards him. Her hand shot down, gripping the canvas of his bag, while she pulled his face closer to hers.
“Now listen, you fucking piece of shit. I know that you'll do anything we want because you don't have a choice dear.” She shouted, gleefully drinking in his terror. Dropping him back to the floor Emma moved around once again, and steadied her self on Martha as she climbed up. The sound's of Lloyds animal like screams accompanied her as she moved, giving her a great sense of satisfaction and authority. The experience felt worse than before for Lloyd, his already bruised face cried out in agony at the brunt of this fresh assault.
Eventually it came to an end and Lloyd was placed back underneath Emma's chair, her feet resting back on his face.
“Now then Lloyd, there's one thing that both myself and Martha haven't indulged in yet can you guess what that is?”
Lloyd looked up at her from tear stained eyes, as he shook his head wearily.
“You don't know Lloyd? Well that's hardly surprising is it? What with your lack of intelligence I mean you exist for the sole purpose of satisfying our sadistic desires. You must be pretty thick to let yourself get in that position.” Martha giggled as Emma continued.
“Instead of telling you, I think I'll show you. I mean they say a pictures worth a thousand words, so I'm sure that an action must be better as well.”
As she stopped speaking her feet shifted upon his face, for a moment they were poised above it, her chipped pink toe polish almost touching his lips. Then her foot plunged straight against his lips and then through straight into his mouth, bringing understanding and a new wave of self disgust.
'That's why they operated on my mouth,' Lloyd thought as he felt the whole of her foot enter his greatly enlarged maw. It was true, her complete right size 5 foot was encased within his mouth, his lips wrapped around her ankle, which stuck out of his mouth.
“Ha, ha, ha,” laughed Emma, “look Martha it works, who else would have thought of this, I always said that Kirsty was a genius.”
Martha nodded, staring at the strange sight with a mixture of amazement of barely contained amusement.
“You know what they said about that Lloyd Mitchell don't you?” Asked Martha taking on a somewhat more serious tone.
“No what,” she answered, looking slightly puzzled at her friend.
“ He was always putting his foot in his mouth.” Martha almost broke down as she finished her joke, roaring and shaking on her chair.
“Really Martha that was awful,” chided Emma stifling a small chuckle.
“I know , I know,” she responded, “sorry chick couldn't help myself.
Emma turned her attention back to the matter at hand, regarding the excuse for a life form which seemed to be attached to the end of her ankle. Emma wiggled her toes within his mouth, enjoying the feeling of his soft cheeks, rubbing against her sensitive foot. Lloyds eyes seemed to bulge as he peered up at Emma, the taste of her bitter, salty perspiration was in every swallow that he was forced to make. Now that the foot was inside his mouth, there was no dislodging it until Emma decided to pull it out. His tongue wiggled over her soles, feeling the callouses and hardened skin which adorned the heels and ball of her foot.
“Oh Martha, you have got to give this a go,” she cooed a dreamy, slightly sleepy look in her eyes.
“Its like a foot bath, but so much more relaxing,” she wiggled her foot inside his mouth as she spoke, Lloyds tongue wriggling uncontrollably in response.
“You bet,” she said, “I can't wait to let it clean my size 7's, just hope they'll fit!”
Lloyd shuddered again, feeling queasy and slightly faint at the prospect of cleaning Martha's greasy feet. Emma continued to punish his mouth, deeming that half an hour was an appropriate time for each foot. After she was satisfied that the job was done, she moved back letting Martha once again take the hot seat.
Martha raised her right foot and then her left, wiggling her stubby toes releasing more of her pungent odour. Lloyd silently thanked god that Martha had stayed barefoot, although her feet were still disgusting the strength of the stench had reduced slightly.
“Now then pet, you've had your appetiser I think its time you enjoyed the main course.”
Without another word she slowly began to lower her right foot, the smell and Lloyds disgust increasing with every inch. Martha watched him from above, loving the reaction that her feet caused as they descended. The big toe brushed his lips the rank, disgusting taste flooding into his mouth; much more bitter and salty than Emma's. Inevitably the rest of her toes followed, pushed straight inside. She forced down hard until her heel, brushed hard against Lloyds bottom gums and then with a slight popping sound she was in.
“Ohh it does feel nice Emma, its like having my foot inside a warm jelly.” She wiggled her toes as she spoke.
“I know its lovely hun.” Smiled Emma taking a picture of Lloyd on her phone.
“You should see this pic Martha, gosh it looks so strange with him just hanging off your leg.”
“I bet,” laughed Martha. While she chatted she brought her other foot over Lloyds nose hole, wiggling her toes to release fresh odour. The stale, stinky smell permeated his senses once again, accompanied by her sour tasting sweat.
Suddenly the door to the booth opened, admitting Kirsty and a big built guard.
“Glad to see your making good use of it Martha,” laughed Kirsty.
“Yes ma'am we've never let it out from under our feet.”
“good, good, well I'm afraid that I'm going to have to cut this short now ladies. He's got an appointment in the beauty parlour.”
Martha and Emma both looked disappointed, but assented to Kirsty's authority. Lloyd was hoisted back up onto the guards shoulders, as they started towards his next destination.
'Beauty parlour?' pondered Lloyd, and that's where we'll leave him, worrying about his next punishment. So until next time dear readers, I bid you goodbye.