Happiness in Slavery: Slave Bob and the Martial Arts Lady (PT.2) 

A story by Kicked 72.

Featuring exclusive artwork by Mad Tomy.

Prologue:

She was the deadliest female martial artist in the world and a freelance secret agent. She got hired by international secret services regularly to carry out otherwise impossible missions. In particular, she was specialised in destroying crime organizations and killing high profile gangsters all over the world. Where many armed men had failed, she had always succeeded brilliantly: moreover, she employed no other weapon but her lethal martial arts feet to wipe out her opponents. In her type of mission, she took no prisoners: in fact, no enemy had ever survived her. She was still young but she had already left a long trail of dead men behind her heels. However, while she was on a trip to annihilate an Italian Mafia family, she met one mobster who surprisingly managed not to die from her thundering kicks. The defeated man's endurance impressed her and - after having easily killed 26 of his accomplices - she decided not to finish the mafioso. Actually, she had a plan for him, or better, a design for a new life. Being a very wise and smart woman, she thought that she could use such a resilient male as her own house servant and real-life training Bob. He was a massive man, tall and large, and he proved himself capable of enduring a lot of kicking punishment. Furthermore, with all the action in her life and her constant travels, she had no time to look after her house and do her everyday chores. So, she decided to take the surviving criminal home and train him as her butler and sparring partner: it was obvious that he would never betray her as she had already physically and psychologically submitted him by beating him to within an inch of his life. She also renamed him, to mark the beginning of his new life as her multi-purpose servant: from now on his name will be Bob Slave or, if you prefer, Slave Bob.

The Lethal Lady Comes Home
(Two years later...) After a relaxing afternoon stroll through the city centre, the most lethal secret agent in the world was walking back to her beautiful house. While the young woman enjoyed her pleasant walk, her faithful servant Slave Bob was waiting in her house, busy with his daily chores. When Bob heard the familiar noise of his mistress's high heel shoes on the walkaway of the villa’s main entrance, he rushed to the door and opened it. The radiantly beautiful woman walked in confidently, without even looking at her male servant who was holding the door for her. Bob humbly bowed his head down, his eyes fixed on the lady's pretty and lethal feet. After a few steps inside her luxurious hi-tech home, the woman stopped and started undoing her elegant high-couture overcoat. Knowing exactly what he was expected to do, Bob walked behind her to take the stylish garment from her shoulders and put it in the hanger by the entrance. Once he had finished with the overcoat, Bob dropped to his knees, right behind his mistress. His legs were slightly apart. He had been trained by his owner to assume this position when she returned home, especially when she was wearing high heels with no strings or straps. Indeed, as soon as he was down on his knees, the Martial Arts Lady casually kicked back with one of her legs: her heel hit right between Bob’s legs. As he received the woman's heel in his crotch, Slave Bob sent out a muted whine but carefully refrained from screaming or moving: he knew too well what she would do to him if he did. Bob then closed his thighs, so that the young woman's heel was firmly in place between his legs. The Martial Arts Lady then slid her foot out easily, while her shoe remained stuck in his slave's crotch. As she was checking her phone, the lady casually offered her nylon covered sole to the slave behind her back. grateful for this unexpected gift, Bob kissed the young woman's beautiful sole with devotion and respect, inhaling the inebriating fragrance coming from the lady's pantyhose after her long afternoon stroll. The Bob carefully removed the high-heel shoe still stuck his crotch and tidily placed it to his side. 
 
The young woman repeated the same operation with her other foot, using her Slave's genitals as a shoehorn to remove both her fashionable shoes. 
Bob would have loved to be allowed to kiss his owner's other foot as well but this time the Martial Arts Lady just walked away in her bare pantyhose, leaving the kneeling slave behind with one of her sexy high heels still painfully stuck in his crotch. Carefully, Bob took the second shoe out of his groin and placed it tidily next to the other one: he will later shine them and put them back in the large shoe closet - it was actually a room more than a closet - where the young woman was storing her impressive shoe collection. Despite the pain in his genitals, Bob rapidly stood up to follow the young lady's footsteps. As the Martial Arts Lady entered her changing room, Bob handed her a pair of tight gym shorts and a spandex top: it was time to get ready for her afternoon martial arts training session. While she changed, she playfully threw her clothes at Bob, who was standing right outside the door, awkwardly trying to catch the flying garments. He managed to catch her dress with one hand and her bra with the other one, but when she nonchalantly threw her pantyhose at him, the only way he could catch it was with his mouth. The lady just had to laugh at the pathetic sight of this massive man standing there with her dress in one hand, her bra in the other and her pantyhose in his mouth. 'Bob, just admit it! You love the taste of my worn pantyhose in your mouth, don't you?'. She was teasing her slave by making a humorous reference to their first meeting. Unable to sustain his mistress's sarcasm Bob kept his head down and nodded nervously. With the pantyhose between his lips he moaned a muffled and incomprehensible reply and then humbly walked away to put the lady's clothes in the pre-washing cupboard: he was going to take care of them later. As he performed his duties he could hear his mistress's laughter following him around the house.

The Training Routine

When Bob came back from the laundry room, the Martial Arts Lady had already changed into her training outfit. She looked stunning in her short and tight gym pants and her top. As usual, she was going to fight in her bare feet. At this time of the day, the sight of his mistress’s beautiful bare feet always meant one thing to Slave Bob: a lot of punishment was awaiting him in the next hour or so. Bob felt a weakness in the knees and butterflies in his stomach in anticipation of what was going to happen. The feet of his mistress were internationally famous for being the deadliest Weapons of Mass Male Destruction in the world and for very good reasons. After two years of slavery, the awe that those deadly female feet caused him had only increased. With his eyes sheepishly fixed on his mistress’s shapely bare heels leading the way, Bob followed her into the house gym for the second sparring session of the day. All over his body, Bob was still hurting from the kicks he received in the morning session, but he knew he had to show the Martial Arts Lady that he was perfectly able to receive his second kicking of the day. It was part of his mistress's daily routine and he could not let her down. The main reason why the lady had spared Bob’s life at the end of her mission against his Italian Mafia family was to use him as a flesh and bone kicking bob for her daily martial arts training: she knew that practising with a human rather than a dummy was much more realistic and closer to a real fight. On his part, Bob knew that it was during this training sessions that he could prove his worth as a slave to her. He knew that he had to endure all the punishment she was going to inflict him without complaining, as this was the only way to convince her to let him live one more day. Indeed, it would be very easy for her to kill him and dispose of his body without anyone noticing. In her Italian assignment this fearless female martial arts champion had slaughtered most of the male members of Bob’s former Mafia family. The rest of his relatives believed that he had been killed by the woman crime punisher just like the other Mafiosi. Bob knew that he had nobody but her in the world: if, for some reason, she would grow tired of him she could easily replace him with another captured mobster in one of her future missions. He knew his life depended on how well he was be able to satisfy her as a slave and sparring partner. And she was an extremely demanding fighter: she trained twice a day, in the morning and in the afternoon. In each session, she did not hold back, kicking his human training bag with all the energy and precision that she would apply in a real fight. On several occasions she kicked him so hard that he had to be hospitalised: luckily, through the secret agent organizations she was working with, the lady had access to the best clinics in the world where all the most advanced medical technologies were available. No matter how bad Bob's condition was they were able to put Bob back together and deliver him back to his mistress in a matter of days: she was always very enthusiastic to have Bob back so that she could experiment the new techniques she had been working on in his absence on her slave. The only precaution that the Martial Arts Lady was taking was not to kill or damage Bob beyond 'repair': but that’s only because she did not want to waste time in finding and training another slave to replace him. Sometimes, while he was taking his daily multiple doses of kicks, Bob wished that his mistress had not shown him mercy on the fateful day when his life was changed forever by her martial arts feet. If she had killed him on their first encounter, he would had suffered once and now he'd be resting in peace. Instead, he was now doomed to relive the incredible pain and humiliation of his defeat at least twice a day for the rest of his life. Furthermore, each training could be the last for him, because she might decide that she had enough and kill him at any time. His mistress always made sure he never knew what was on her mind: that added to the realism of the session and, on the other hand, made Bob further shake with fear not only for the certainty of the pain, but also for the possibility of his death. Each day, he had to fight for his life and that made it more of a challenge for her and for him too. In his permanent state of total distress, Bob sometimes found himself thinking that he did actually die under the young woman’s feet during that fateful first fight and that martial lady's house was his own hell's ditch: in female martial arts supremacy version of Dante’s Inferno, his eternal punishment in the afterlife was to be the slave and the kicking bag of the woman who killed and humiliated him. 

Nevertheless, somewhere deep down in his confused male brain, Bob was experiencing also other undeniable but contrasting feelings. After the young woman had repeatedly shown him her physical and intellectual superiority, Bob had actually begun to develop a profound sense of admiration and devotion for her. That feeling was already there since the first day, after he saw her singlehandedly destroy him and his entire mafia gang with her martial arts feet. His devotion was cemented by serving the Martial Arts Lady every day for two full years now. Bob was in awe of her body and mind and he was completely subdued by her charisma. He loved her with a love that was total submission and surrender. After receiving several hundred daily beatdowns during the previous two years, he was still increasingly aroused by the Martial Arts Lady's body and personality, to the point that a very unconscious part of him was actually looking forward to the daily training: despite the pain, those trainings were the moments when he could experience contact with his mistress and, in particular, with her feet which he had learned to fear and worship like deities. Being kicked by her bare feet surpassed every sexual and spiritual experience Bob had ever had in his life. Those merciless beatings were almost a religious rite for him in which, through an incredible amount of physical suffering, he could get in contact with his goddess. After having been a chauvinistic male all his life, now he was totally devoted to this outstanding super woman who had made him his personal servant. He loved her desperately, but obviously he would not even dare to think to be her partner or friend. He knew that his place was under her feet and at the receiving end of her devastating kicks: that knowledge gave him a sense of profound inner peace. He had found his place in life after that woman crushed his ego under her feet. He was like a monk now, devoted to a high kicking Madonna or a sinner tormented by a female martial arts demon in the afterlife. So, was that heaven or hell for Bob? This dilemma was too much for his weak mind, especially right now, while he was witnessing the spectacle of his mistress getting ready to kick his sorry male ass again.

The ‘Fight’

The Martial Arts Lady walked to the center of the gym room: she started stretching her beautifully muscular yet slender body and practicing her moves for the upcoming fight. Standing in a corner of the room, Bob was obediently waiting for her to finish her pre-training routine. The young woman was perfectly aware of what was burning inside of her slave as he watched her warming up. Thanks to her superior female intelligence, she could read his simple male mind like an open book. She knew that every single movement of her athletic body made Bob shiver with a mixture of fear, sexual arousement and feverish devotion. It’s exactly this confusion that made him such a perfect slave and ensured the absolute psychological power she enjoyed over him. She teased him by getting very close to him with her warm-up kick routine: at a certain point she stood on one foot while the other was in front of his face for several seconds, in a perfect high Yoko Geri position. She knew that Bob was fighting against his instinctive urge to kiss and lick her martial arts sole so close to his lips: however he would have never dared to do it, knowing that such an unrequired gesture could cost him an unbelievable dose of punishment. As usual, a huge bulge in his gym pants was pathetically showing Bob’s uncontrollable state of excitement: she knew that the mere sight, let alone the fragrance, of her feet could make him come immediately…but obviously he was not allowed to relieve himself without her explicit permission. The woman smiled and shook her head in disbelief thinking about how incredibly weak and endlessly submissive men can be. When she was ready, the Lady called Bob to the center of the room to begin the sparring session. Scared, trembling but also determined to show her mistress that he was still a valid sparring partner, Bob attacked with all his energy. Nevertheless, just like every training session before that day, this one too was a one-sided massacre, during which the undefeatable martial arts woman applied all the kicking techniques she knew on her male slave. Her feet struck Bob’s face, upper body and groin from all angles with no mercy. Being 174 cm tall, the lady was by no means a short woman, but Bob was only a few centimeters short from two meters! Nevertheless, thanks to her long legs and her incredible agility and flexibility her feet could reach way higher that Bob’s head: she was able to kick every part of Bob’s body effortlessly and with full power. Moreover, she adored performing acrobatic jump kicks: tall Bob was a perfect target for training those techniques and trying out new inventive flying kicks. She took a lot of childlike fun in jumping into the air, feet first, and landing devastating kicks on Bob’s big face and head. Since she was a little girl, the lady had also been trained in ballet and gymnastics, as well as in several martial arts disciplines: being a natural talent in every activity she engaged in, she could have been a world famous prima ballerina or a multiple Olympic medalist in gymnastics (despite her height), if only she had desired to pursue any of those careers. Unfortunately for male criminals like Bob though, she decided to focus on martial arts instead, taking particular joy in experimenting with Karate and Tae Kwon Do kicks. Her gymnastic and ballet training gave even more flexibility, elegance, elevation, speed, precision and acrobatic skills to her kicking style: she could effortlessly propel herself in the air and stay elevated for an incredibly long time when she was performing her deadly flying kicks. She intelligently incorporated her background as a dancer and as a gymnast into her own deadly mix of the most effective martial arts. Assets like these made her the perfect female fighting machine, the most lethal and beautiful martial artist in the world. Even her adversaries were mesmerised by her grace and elegance as she was slaughtering them with no mercy. In combat, no one stood a chance against her not even when she was fighting against multiple - and well-armed - opponents, as Bob knew very well.

 

Sometimes during the sparring sessions the lady also used holds and grappling techniques as well, always making sure that her feet were touching Bob’s body and/or face, to reinforce her psychophysical domination over him. At the beginning of each sparring session, Bob desperately tried to fight back as much as he could but he was always quickly and easily overwhelmed by his mistress. In two years he never managed to land a single blow on her: on the other hand, he had received hundreds of thousands barefoot kicks from the fearsome young woman. There was no part of his body that had not been severely damaged by the feet of this martial arts goddess multiple times. Moreover, Bob had lost a lot of weight too since he had become the slave of this fearless female warrior: having to fight the deadliest martial artist in the world at least twice a day and taking care of her house was a lot of work for a former big fat lazy mafia boy...

During that day's session the Martial Arts Lady was in a particularly funny mood: she hit Bob with several humiliating series of foot-slaps to the face, in Van Damme style. The young woman liked how hopeless Bob looked when her foot slapped his face for entire minutes while she was easily balancing on one leg. Sometimes she would nonchalantly check her nails as she kicked him. She did it to humiliate Bob even more and to add a little comedy element to the proceedings: she always liked a laugh, especially when it was at her slave's expense. Then she would switch legs to inflict him the same treatment with her other foot. During these training sessions, she performed her entire kicking repertoire on her slave: moreover, she also used Bob to try out the new, always creative and spectacular kicks she was currently developing and experimenting with. Bob felt privileged and proud to be the first target for the new, devastating kicking techniques that his smart mistress was continuosly working on. He was taking endless doses of punishment but he knew that he was helping her find new and effective ways of taking out criminals with her deadly martial arts feet.

More than one hour had now passed since the Martial Arts Lady had begun her second daily demolition of Slave Bob. She decided it was time to call it off for that afternoon, as she had somewhere to go later that night. To round off the beating, she jumped in the air and executed a perfect spinning back kick which hit Bob right in the face. Her movement was fast as lightning but Bob, already woozy from the previous barrage of kicks, experienced it in slow motion: utterly flabbergasted, he saw his mistress perfect ivory body leave the ground with supreme grace and unmatched agility. While she was suspended in the air, one of her long and shapely legs extended in an elegant arc sending her bare foot out towards Bob's head. Unable to put up any defense against the young woman's flying foot, Bob took the full impact of her sole  all over his battered face: he felt her bare heel hammering against his forehead, her instep crushing his nose and the ball of her foot splintering his already bloodied lips. A cloud of blood surrounded him as he fell down to the floor for the umpteenth time that day, totally overwhelmed by the power and the accuracy of the young woman’s stunning kick. Once again, the training session turned into a memerising display of superior female dexterity, class and power: Bob was in the very exclusive position of being a spectator - and a part - of his mistress's unique show each day, but he was always astonished by her perfect mix of elegance, force and pulchritude. Now Bob was down with his back on the floor, almost uncoscious: however, it was not over yet for him, as The Martial Arts Lady was not going to finish the training without performing one of her favourite fatality moves: the jumping Bruce Lee stomp to the chest. Letting out a savage 'Kiai!' she leapt in the air again and landed on Bob's ribcage with both feet. Pivoting on her heels, she then sadistically swept her feet from left to right all over her opponent's chest, while letting out another savage scream of victory. It as so satisfying for her to end a fight in this way. In a real combat situation, this move would completely crush and ravage her opponent’s ribcage, driving the bones through the heart and lungs, killing him on the spot: in this case she obviously held back a little bit, as she still needed Bob…at least for now. Also, since she was in good spirits, she just stomped on his chest and not on his groin too, as she would have done on a bad mood day. She stood still on Bob’s ribcage for a few seconds, savouring the devastating effects of her fatality kick, while his slave moaned in pain under her feet. She had done that move to him so many times in the previous years that Bob’s chest had her footprints permanently carved in it, like a humiliating tattoo. She had literally branded him with her pretty but mortal feet: another physical sign that he was her ‘sole’ property. And frankly, her footprints were by far the prettiest thing all over Slave Bob’s ugly brutish body, as she always cheerfully reminded him: so she had definitely improved his appearance…While she was standing on his slave’s chest, the young lady put one foot over his swollen lips and told him: ‘Since you’ve been such a good kicking sack today, you will get a little reward, dog. You can have the privilege of kissing my feet, the feet which have just destroyed and degraded you once again’. Bob complied immediately: he devotedly kissed her toes, the ball of her foot and then her heel. She switched legs, so that he could repeat the same operation with the other foot. ‘Do my feet taste good Bob?’ she ask him teasingly. ‘Does their aroma remind you of the first time we met?’ she continued. She laughed at him while he was intensely worshipping her post-training feet: his lips were swollen from her kicks but the desire to honour the feet of his mistress was too strong for any pain. The woman was perfectly aware that giving her slave a little reward from time to time only reinforced her superiority over him: it reminded him of his position and augmented his boundless adoration for her. Indeed, while he was kissing the young woman's incredibly powerful feet, Bob was feeling a wave of immense gratitude for his martial arts mistress: not only she was keeping him alive for another day but she was also letting him have the honour of kissing the part of her body he was most in awe of. Moreover, she did not let him worship her Weapons of Mass Male Destruction everyday: Bob knew he had to take that chance to express his devotion with all his passion when he had the opportunity. When she had enough of the big man’s display of submission, the female martial arts champion just stepped off his chest and headed for the gym’s door without saying a word. She left her semi-unconscious Slave lying on the floor in the center of the room with his bulge still visible and uncontrollably throbbing, despite the terrible ache coming from each part of his body. 

The Snap

Totally indifferent to Bob's distressful state, the young woman walked out of the room: she knew that, just like every day, she had completely wrecked him physically and mentally. It was her slave’s own business to deal with the injuries and the pain she caused him. He would have to take care of his own bleeding face and resume his daily chores around the house very fast: she would punish him very severely if he did not get ready to serve her again in a matter of minutes. She also knew that he could not help but be incredibly sexually aroused by her daily show of martial arts superiority: since the start of the training she had been aware of his painful and pathetic erection. It happened all the time, and she actually enjoyed leaving him in that state for as long as she desired, knowing that he would never dare to come without her permission. By now, after two years into their mistress and slave relationship, she had acquired total control of his sexuality. She had perfected a system called The Snap. It was very simple: in her presence and when he was outside of his basement bedroom, Bob was only allowed to come when his mistress snapped her fingers. She had to introduce this system because Bob’s incontrollable – and multiple - ejaculations during the training sessions were starting to annoy her. Bob’s did his best to hide his erections and orgasms during his daily confrontations with the Martial Arts Lady, but his throbbing groin, his pathetic stiffness and the stains in his pants were impossible to ignore. There’s nothing a stupid man can hide from a woman, especially when she’s as clever and experienced as Bob’s mistress. The female secret agent was aware that his ejaculations were just another sign of her total dominance over him, but they also represented a distraction when they happened in the middle of a fight. She could not tolerate that: it was highly unprofessional on Bob's part, as she would often disdanfully tell him for his extreme shame and desperation.

To prevent this inconvenience, the Martial Arts Lady tried several correctional systems on her house slave, but she initially failed to obtain significant results. Bob had to endure many extremely painful experiments before his smart female owner finally found a solution that did not include castrating or killing him. Actually, those would have been very simple solutions for the annoyance caused by Bob's dumb dick...however killing him would have meant looking for another male slave - and having to train him from scratch - and the Martial Arts Lady simply couldn't be bothered: moreover, apart from this little problem, Bob was an absolutely perfect slave and he had made her life much more comfortable and easy. He was one of the few people on earth who knew about her secret identity: she did not have to hide anything from him because he was so terrified and overwhelmed by her that he would have ever dared revealing her secret, not even under excruciating torture. It was relaxing for the Martial Arts Lady to have him around.  As another possible solution for Bob's excessive ejaculations, the young woman could have easily castrated him with her feet: after all, she had already done it to many of her opponents before killing them. Her ability to caponize men with her expert footwork was almost clinical and very much feared. However, she was well aware that Bob's obsessive sexual desire for her was at the core of her slave's loyalty. Moreover, castrating him would have meant diminishing the realism of her fighting training sessions with Bob: when she was on a real mission she did not fight eunuchs but fully equipped males. She knew that all her male opponents' dicks were invariably erect for her during fights: however, the men normally climaxed towards the end of her overwhelming display of barefoot kicking superiority over them. In most cases, the losing males would irresistibly come as she was about to inflict them the final kick or as she was humiliating them by making them kiss, suck and lick her feet, uselessly asking for mercy before her final foot stomp or smother. Sometimes her ravaged adversaries would even ejaculate after her final blow, thus paying the ultimate tribute to the power of her feet with the last spasms of their dying bodies, brains and dicks. Indeed, if only they had survived, all these men would have turned out exactly like Bob: slavishly devoted to her and incapable to control their orgasms in her presence…but Bob was the only one who was still alive after having been demolished by the Martial Arts Lady and she needed him to function as a sparring partner! So, to make her trainings with Bob match the reality of a real fight, she needed him to climax only after the fight rather than at any moment ... The only way for her to obtain this was to take the control of his orgasms away from Bob and into her own hands, since her slave was clearly unable to handle it by himself when she was within his sight, let alone during fights. As soon as she realised this, she came up with the Pavlovian Dog style method of The Snap: since then things had finally started to improve. She gained complete control of his slave’s orgasms whenever he was in her presence and, most importantly, during the daily sparring sessions she had with him. Allowing him to come only when she snapped her fingers seemed like a very simple but effective solution: besides solving the annoying training incidents and it would make Bob even more subjugated to her power than before. Now even his own pleasure depended on his young mistress’s capricious will and feisty mind: she literally had him wrapped around her fingers. She also knew that controlling a man’s dick equaled to having boundless power on his mind too. Obviously, she totally dominated Bob even before introducing The Snap, but she had to make sure that his loyalty was boundless. This was another way to expand her power over him: she was the most important secret agent in the world and she could not run the risk of having someone in her house who was not absolutely submitted and devoted to her, even beyond the limits of his own consciousness. 

Nevertheless, Bob had to take several mind numbingly painful beatings before he was perfectly tuned in with the Snap system, but now it worked like a charm: once again the clever Martial Arts Lady had managed to manipulate his slave’s deepest needs and desires for her own benefit...

As the Martial Arts Lady was leaving the gym after her evening training, Bob was still lying on the floor with his body destroyed and his penis on the verge of exploding. Through his swollen and blackened eyes, he followed the sexy bare heels of his mistress walk out of the room. With every step, she was leaving a bloody footprint on the gym floor: it was Bob’s own blood, which he had to wash from the walls and the floor of the gym room after each training session. It was perhaps the most humiliating – but at the same time strangely arousing - chore he had to take care of each day: it was another visceral sign of his daily sacrifice to his martial arts goddess. 

Bob let out a resignated sigh when he saw the young woman walk away carelessly: he was desperately hoping that she would show at least a little mercy and snap her fingers but no...Now not only he would have to recover from her barrage of perfect kicks, but he would also not be allowed to have relief from his painful erection until he was back in his room late at night, after having finished all his duties. Some very distressful and difficult hours lay ahead for the poor Bob: he knew that, as it had already happened many times before. Sometimes his mistress just 'forgot' to snap her fingers and there was nothing he could do about it. He started to slowly and carefully stand up from the gym floor. He put extra care in his movements, knowing that even the softest touch to his throbbing penis could result in possible immediate ejaculation: the lady would have never tolerated that. She would kick him to the point of permanent brain damage if she noticed that he had come without her ‘snapping’ permission…

As she left the gym, the female martial arts mistress did not even look back on the man she had just humiliated on her Tatami. However, when she was in the corridor just outside of the gym's door she stopped for a second and smirked. She extended her arm back so that her hand appeared in the doorway, to make sure that Bob could see it: she waited for a few excruciating (for Bob) seconds, then she casually snapped her fingers… After that, she just walked away with a prankster smile on her face. She knew exactly what that apparently insignificant hand gesture meant for her slave: feisty, playful and creative as she was, she always liked to have fun with the power she enjoyed over him. She hated boredom more than anything else… 

As he was awkwardly trying to stand up Bob was caught off-guard by the young woman’s clever prank. As he saw and heard her snap her beautiful fingers, a flash of lightning struck right into the most primitive and remote part of his brain: it was the subconscious area of his psyche that the lady had gained control of with her merciless martial arts feet sending the most primordial and powerful impulse of all to his body. Immediately responding to The Snap signal, Bob’s dick exploded in an uncontrollable and over-abundant ejaculation: it was so strong and unexpected that it made him fall to the floor again with a heavy thud. Soon a large, wet stain appeared on his crotch: it was clearly visible through his pants. Here he was again, shaking uncontrollably on the floor, almost convulsing with pain and pleasure as his dick kept on throbbing in the final stages of an orgasm which had been only allowed by his female conqueror's wicked sense of humour. He had been knocked-out one more time by his all-powerful mistress, and all she had to do in this case was snap her pretty fingers: once again he had been outsmarted by this fearsome young woman. However, Bob had no time to think about the infiniteness of his submission to the Martial Arts Lady because, as he was lying down, defeated and humiliated, his female owner and her almighty Weapons of Mass Male Destruction were already walking towards the bathroom for her post training shower…

The Lady Takes a Shower

Satisfied with her training session, the deadly woman was now enjoying a warm and relaxing shower in her luxurious bathroom. She was going out on a dinner date with a brand new man that night and she wanted to look perfect. However, when she had finished showering and she opened the cabin, she noticed that Bob had forgotten to lay down the bathroom mat for her. Disappointed, she raised her head. She saw Bob standing in the bathroom doorway with the mat still in his hands: he was unforgivably late. Hazy and battered from the beatdown (and the orgasm), Bob remembered just a little too late that he had to prepare the bathroom for the Lady’s post shower toilette: that was one of his everyday duties in his service for the most lethal martial artist in the world. Despite her slave’s failure, the young woman did not lose her patience: with a calm and confident hand gesture she ordered Bob to lay down on his belly in front of the shower. Since he’d been so lazy, she decided to use his servant’s body as her human foot mat. Bob immediately obeyed and she rudely stepped on his back: once again, Bob was under her mistress's bare feet, serving as a carpet this time. She was aware of the suffering she was driving through his chest and back by standing on him, especially after he had been on the receiving end of a savage kicking sealed off with a punishing Bruce Lee stomp, but she did not care: that was the punishment her slave deserved for his sinful forgetfulness. With her feet still on his back, she dried her irresistible body up with a towel in front of the bathroom mirror, humming a happy song. She then stepped down from Bob’s back to walk into her bedroom: time to get dressed and apply make-up.

Toenail Polish Test

Dressed in sexy underwear, the deadliest martial artist in the world was now sitting at her make-up table. She had almost finished with her face and hands: now it was time to apply polish on her toenails. To do that comfortably though, she needed a footstool. She stood up from the chair in front of the make up mirror and she turned around to sit right on ther make-up the table. It was a high table so her feet were suspended and dangling a few centimeters from the floor. Her strong but sensual back was now reflected in the mirror. She then called in her servant: knowing exactly what to do, Bob ran from a nearby room and quickly got down on his knees, right in front of the young woman. He then extended his neck, so that his face was within the reach of the young woman's legs. The Martial Arts Lady rudely put her right foot square on his face, so that her toes were resting on his forehead and her heel was on his chin: Bob sent out a little moan of pain since his face was still swollen from all her previous kicks. Indifferent to her slave’s discomfort, she started applying the polish on her toes while still humming her happy song. 

Bob was such a perfect footstool for The Martial Arts Lady's toe polish toilette: his face had taken so many kicks from her feet that now his facial features had adapted to accomodate the shape of the young woman's soles perfectly. She essentially sculpted his face with her kicks... Moreover by applying a little pressure on his face and thus bending his neck up, down or to whichever side she preferred, she could regulate the angle of her foot to do a more accurate paint job on her pretty toenails.

As she was applying her toe polish The Lady couldn't help but expressing her satisfaction to Bob: 'Good slave, my feet feel so comfortable on your face! It looks as if your face was custom made as a rest for my feet: you were born to be my foot stool. This is what they call a match made in heaven, no?'

Bob could not reply as his lips were sealed by his mistress lethal heel but he was really moved by her words.

He was immensely proud that the Martial Arts Lady thought that his face was a good match for her feet. He felt that his body as well as his useless life finally had found their only purpouse and reason: serving the feet of this most incredible female avenger. Once again, a huge bulge formed in his pants. Obviously, the Lady was aware of Bob's arousement and she decided to have fun with it: she let her other foot casually dangle between his legs, so that her toes were at times softly touching his swollen glans. Some other times she stepped on his groin for support as she was leaning forward to apply the toe nail polish. She smirked confidently: she knew that with that simple and casual movement, she was sending Bob to a place which was somewhere between heaven and hell: his desperate efforts to resist was all over his his face under her foot:'Careful Bob - she whispered to him as she was attentively painting her nails - you know what happens if you let yourself go without my permission'. Bob shivered in fear as he heard those words and that amused her even more.

When the Lady had finished with one foot, she removed it from Bob’s face, only to place her freshly painted toes in front of his swollen lips: Bob duly blew air on her toenails so that the polish could dry more rapidly. Then she repeated the same operation with her left foot too, using Bob as a footstool and as a toe polish drier. 

After Bob had blown her toenails dry, she amusingly pat him on the lips with one foot: he behaved according to her instructions and she was mildly satisfied with him. She was glad and joyful, anticipating her date.

Nevertheless, she wanted to make sure that her freshly applied polish was resistant enough to face a night out in open high-heel shoes…so she commanded Bob to stand up. Not knowing what to expect, Bob complied. She came down from the table. When her slave was standing up, the Martial Arts Lady suddenly attacked him with a rapid fire series of slap kicks to his face. She was balancing on one leg and with each kick she pushed Bob closer and closer to the bedroom wall. Always standing on one leg, she pinned the big man against the wall, with the kicking foot pushing against his throat: ignoring his slave’s pained laments she checked out the status of her nail polish. It seemed fine, but now she had to check the polish on the other foot too! The young lady hook-kicked Bob away from the wall making him stumble clumsily to the center of the room: then she repeated the same foot slapping test, this time using her left foot. She ended up pinning Bob to the wall on the other side of the bedroom: this time her foot was on his face instead of his throat. Bending her leg, she inspected the status of the toe polish on the foot which was covering Slave Bob’s aching face: perfect! Despite his distress, Bob knew that he was always in a privileged position when his face was under her foot. The Martial Arts Lady's feet were a thing of rare beauty. To sustain herself, she had been working as a top ranking model when she was still in her training years. 

She could have made a very remunerative career as a model and she soon was in very high demand. In particular her perfect feet had been noticed by all the most prestigious agencies in the world: her feet had appeared in dozens of advertisments and magazine covers. But she was craving for a much more action packed lifestyle than modelling: however, her beautiful size 9 feet (US size) were still paying her a very luxurious lifestyle, even if she decided to use them for crushing men's faces rather than gracing fashion magazine covers. Bob was totally mesmerised by the beauty of his mistress's deadly feet. Bob was totally mesmerised by the beauty of his mistress's deadly feet. Her strong but slender toes were elegantly and harmoniously aligned in decreasing height order, from her big toe to the pinky. The skin on the upper side of her foot was pure like marble and just as hard when she kicked a man's head. Her ballerina arches were outstanding, perfect for dance or gymnastics. Her insteps, which had crushed so many noses, were impeccably curved. The blades of her feet traced an elegant and pleasant line but they could cut male throats like a knife through butter. Her punishing heels were perfectly rounded, like the most graceful hammers ever designed. The balls of her feet were absolutely poetic with their fluid and sensual shape: they looked like the softest desert dunes but they could hit like the hardest rocks when they descended on a man's nose. In a similar way, her beautiful soles could be smooth like silk or hard as steel, depending on the Lady's will. The Martial Arts Lady's feet were not only Weapons of Mass Male Destruction but also intoxicatingly beautiful works of art: no wonder men would climax irresistibly as they were exhaling their last breath under those perfect feet which were exuding Female Martial Arts Supremacy from every pore.

On inspecting her own toes, the lady let out a girly 'Yay!' of excitement! She was ready to go out now and her toes are going to look perfectly polished all night! When the woman removed her foot from Bob’s face, the big man comically slid down along the wall to the floor, almost unconscious: that was too much even for an expert taker of punishment and abuse like Bob! Watching his slave’s total distress, the lady smiled like child who had misbehaved, and then told him: ‘Poor thing, maybe I roughed you up a little too much today but I’m a bit over-excited because I’m going on a date!’- but then she quickly switched to a more reproachful tone ‘Anyway, you must always remember that being ready for me and my moods is part of your duties, slave!’

Happiness in Slavery

It was time to dress up for her date now. Before going out for her afternoon stroll, she had already selected her outfit for the evening: while she was applying her make-up, Bob had prepared all the clothes on her bed. She put on a short dress and slipped on her high heels, while Bob’s was still recovering from the third beatdown of the day. He might even get a fourth one, because sometimes she wanted to be attacked by surprise when she was coming back alone at night. Despite his disparaging condition, Bob did notice how beautiful and sexy the Martial Arts Lady looked in her short dress and high heels: she was frankly irresistible and she sure knew how to keep her legs in perfect shape!

Still humming happily, the female secret agent left the apartment to go and meet her new boyfriend. She did not care to say goodbye or even look at her freshly battered slave. She was radiating beauty, happiness and hope for her brand-new flirt.

After she left, Bob slowly came back to his senses and began cleaning and tidying up the house again. He was sincerely glad that his mistress was getting to meet a new man: Bob was madly and selflessly in love with her and he wanted the best for his martial arts Goddess. His mistress deserved a real man beside her, a man who could give her a full and satisfying relationship. It’s something that the pathetic devotion of a former criminal that the young woman had turned into her foot slave and personal training Bob could never provide. Being a female secret agent hunting criminals around the world can be quite a lonely lifestyle: also because of that, Bob was only happy to know that she might had found a possible companion. Slave Bob was ready to serve his mistress in the pursuit of her personal well-being, while she was busy bringing justice to the world. He never thought that he could feel this way for a woman, but that’s what the martial arts feet of his mistress had been capable of: with her all-conquering kicks she had dismantled not only his body but also his formerly chauvinistic and sexist mindset.

When Bob had finished tidying up the house, he went back to his tiny apartment which was located in the basement of the female martial artist's beautiful villa. He sat down on a little bed and grabbed something from under a cushion. It was his dearest possession: the pantyhose that his mistress was wearing on the day they met. She had those pantyhose on when she slaughtered his entire clan and when she had beaten him to within an inch of his life. At the end of the fight she had removed her well-worn nylons and stuck them in Bob's mouth. It was the gesture that sealed the beginning of his new life as Bob Slave: she let him keep the nylons, as a powerful reminder of that fateful event. With passion, Bob buried his face into the pantyhose and inhaled deeply. He had never washed it obviously: the fabric was still bearing a fragrance that took Bob right back to that incredible day when his life was forever destroyed and rebuilt by the martial arts feet of a superior woman.