This is a story of a hard working, married couple. The wife idolises and admires her old school friend the beautiful Porsha. The husband adores and is in awe of his wife’s glamorous friend. Both of them would do anything to earn Porsha’s favour, neither of them can or want to see that beneath Porsha’s glamour, she is a selfish, lazy woman who treats her friends with less respect that the dirt beneath her elegantly clad feet.

Part 1: In the beginning

As a teenager my wife won a scholarship to an elite girls boarding school. My wife came from a poor family and found life difficult at the school as the rest of the girls came from rich families. She was bullied by the other girls and was almost ready to leave because of this when she was “saved” by the beautiful and popular Porsha. Porsha took my wife under her wing and used her influence to stop the bullies. My wife was very grateful and showed her gratitude by running whatever errands Porsha needed for the remainder of their school years together. She would keep her beautiful friends room tidy, write essays for her etc. Eventually they both graduated and went their separate ways.

Part 2: The arrival

About four years ago now my wife received a letter from her old school “friend” Porsha. Porsha was going through a nasty divorce and was low on money whilst she was waiting the matter to be settled at court. Things were bad at home and she needed somewhere to stay for a while. My wife was only too happy to help her childhood friend and we agreed to invite her to stay with us for as long as she needed.

Porsha arrived on a warm summers evening. My wife had talked about her a lot but nothing could prepare me for the sight of the woman when I opened the door to her. She was beyond beautiful and defined elegance and grace. I was lost for words and felt cowed by her very presence. She looked like a film star. As I smelt her expensive perfume it took my breath away. I loved my wife very much but I was completely smitten by the vision of beauty before me.

Porsha was feeling a little tired so I carried all her many bags and cases into the house for her and paid the taxi driver. I followed her back into the house. She strode imperiously across the threshold as if she owned the house. She made no attempt to help me with the bags. I felt a little ashamed of our humble home as she was clearly used to the finer things in life.

Porsha was a little fatigued and stressed by the divorce and we did our best to make her feel at home during those early days. As she was a guest in our home we gave her the master bead room whilst we made do with the spare room. My wife did her washing and ironing for her as the poor woman had no experience of looking after herself and we were only too happy to help.

On the second morning I was amazed that Porsha had left her shoes outside her room to be shined by us, as if she was staying in some expensive hotel. We would have said no, but knowing that Porsha was probably used to such treatment we though we would polish her shoes each day as a favour. I couldn’t believe how much all her shoes must have cost as they all seemed like designer shoes, straight off the catwalk. She favoured elegant, high heeled strappy sandals and boots I was a little put out when I realised that Porsha sometimes would wear four or five different pairs a day and expected them all to be cleaned every evening. The work was taking about an hour each morning and I had to get up an hour early just to clean polish her elegant footwear.

The days turned into weeks and Porsha was still staying with us. Some people might say she was taking advantage of our hospitality but Porsha had, had servants all her life and was not used to doing things for herself. She needed our help and we were happy to give it. My wife idolised her glamorous friend and I was infatuated with her. I did start to wonder where this would all end. One day I came home from work to find Posrsha relaxing in our best armchair. My wife was kneeling on the floor in front of her,. massaging Porsha’s stocking clad feet. What made the scene more demeaning for my wife was that Porsha was using my wife’s back as a footstool for the foot, which was not currently being massaged. As my wife worked to make our guest as comfortable as possible, Porsha bitched about how tired she was. I found this hard to believe as we seemed to spend all day running errands for her whilst she sat around on her elegant bottom thinking of new jobs she wanted us to do to make her day as easy as possible. And now she was using my wife’s back to rest her foot on, treating her like a piece of furniture. She did not seem to care that my wife was uncomfortable, as long as she had somewhere to rest her feet.

Porsha liked to sleep in late and we would take breakfast to her in bed. She had a little bell by the side of her bed and would ring it when she wanted her breakfast served or magazines fetched for her etc. I would run her bath whilst my wife helped her dress. As time went on her attitude to us did change a little, her %!*!!%$$ became more like orders and she would complain a lot if we our work was not good enough for her . The sort of comments we used to were as follows:-

“Give my shoes another polish would you? You don’t really expect me to wear them in that state do you?”
“Change my bed sheets again will you I was a little uncomfortable last night”.
“This drinks a little strong, make it again but a little weaker this time”.

We were both so keen to make her happy we felt really bad that our work was not up to her high standards. Porsha had command of the TV schedule. We watched whatever she wanted to.

Porsha still had no money coming. Whatever Porsha wanted we would get for her. This started of as simple things like her weekly fashion magazines, some make up and new stockings etc. Soon however we found we were buying new clothes and shoes for her. Because we both felt so much affection for her we were soon spending far more of our money on Porsha than we were on ourselves. She demanded the very best in both clothes and foot ware. She told us what she wanted and we pandered to her demands, getting everything she wanted. It would have been nice I suppose if she had said thanks you but she was right to complain I suppose, as we could never afford to buy her the things she had been used to.

I soon found myself acting as her personal chauffeur. At first it was a few lifts to the shops. Soon however she had me driving her to dates or the theatre and making me wait in the car whilst she partied for a few hours. Once I was excited when she asked me to go into a bar with her where she had agreed to meet friends. I soon realised why she had asked as she made me stand behind her all night, so I could buy and fetch drinks for all her girl friends all night, acting as their unpaid waiter. Because I loved her so much I did exactly as she wanted even though I felt so humiliated. Her friends treated me like dirt and as if I had been born for no other reason than to run around after them, serving drinks, holding coats, lighting cigarettes and spending all, my money on them. They didn’t even bother talking to me unless one of them wanted me to do something and none of them even said thank you. They used me as an unpaid servant that night. They were rude, selfish and demanding. I waited on their every word.

As the weeks rolled on I tried hard to please Porsha but I usually failed. One day I had to boil her breakfast egg three times before she was happy with it. She was always complaining that I had not polished her shoes well enough, but she solved that when she suggested I should polish her shoes whilst they were still on her feet, kneeling in front of her like a shoe shine boy whilst she rested her elegant feet on my thigh. This way she could make sure I did a good enough job. I started to use a tooth brush to clean her shoes to make sure her shoes looked perfect on her elegant legs. She looked at me scornfully as I humbled myself, on the floor, at her feet.

My wife would comb her hair for her every morning and put her jewelery on for her. Porsha had a bit of a temper and if my wife pulled her hair too much she would slap her lightly across the face. My wife was always really upset to have displeased the wonderful Porsha and worked extra hard to regain her favour.

Part 3: The Threat

Porsha had us around her little finger. We waited hand and foot on our guest whilst she complained endlessly about what a bad job we did. We pandered to her every demand. The harder we worked to keep her happy the more she criticised us. We treated her like a Queen and she treated her as if we were her servants. She would have friends round and we would act like we were servants, cooking and serving meals and drinks, running round emptying ash trays, running people home afterwards. Even when they were rude to us, we fawned over them to earn Porsha’s favour.

One day she said she was fed up with our poor hospitality and was going to leave. My wife and I were both devastated. We both begged her to stay and told her how much we admired her and worshipped her. We could not bear loosing her company and being away from the radiance of her beauty. We said if she stayed we would be her servants and she would not have to lift a finger ever again. She said that was not good enough and the only way she would stay is if we dedicated ourselves to being her servants so that she would not have to even THINK about lifting a finger.

My wife said we would do anything she asked. Porsha said anything? Then asked us if we loved her. We said we loved her like a queen and begged her to stay. She smiled, lounged back in our armchair and lifted her beautiful high heeled shoe slightly off the floor. I want you to prove you love me she said. I want you to prove you love me enough to do anything for me. I want you to lick the dirt from the shoes of my shoes and to swear you will work your fingers to the bone to make my life as easy and lazy as you possibly can.

We were shocked and looked at her I amazement, my heart pounding.

You do love me she purred?

Yes we both said.

“What If I told you that I think you are both boring, little people with boring little lives who I only put up with because you do everything I say. I treat you both like shit and you let me get away with it. You’re so pathetic!

We should have stood up to her I suppose but we both adored her so much. I suppose we really thought we were shit compared to her.

She smiled, lounged back in our armchair once more and lifted her beautiful high heeled shoe slightly off the floor. Now lick the dirt from the soles of my shoes if you want me to stay she commanded.
My wife and I fell onto our kneels, and crawled over to her like fawning lackeys and used our tongues to clean the dust and grit from the soles of her elegant, expensive shoes. She laughed down at us as we lapped the dust from her soles and told us were we hardly fit for the task but that she would soon whip us into shape. It felt like a privilege to lick he soles clean. She rested her shoe against my face, the elegant, high heel digging into my cheek. I kissed and licked that shoe and told Posha I would dedicate my life to serving her. She rubbed the sole of her shoe dry against my cheek and told me I was a good little dog.

Part 4: Slaves

After that day we really were little more than slaves for the beautiful Porsha. We both knew that she was so much better than us and we would both do anything for her. We promised faithfully to devote our lives to her every comfort. We waited on her hand a foot. We cooked, cleaned, ironed, and tided up after her. She was our princess and we adored everything about her. We devoted ourselves to satisfying her very need.

If she wanted a drink fetched she would just snap the word “drink” and we would race to fetch it for her. We would keel at the side of her whilst she took a few sips and hold the glass for her until she was ready to sip a little more. We worked every harder so she would be able to spend her days in as much indolent relaxation as possible. If she needed to sneeze we would even hold and dispose of the tissue for her.

So that she would be really comfortable whilst she watched the TV one of us would keel on all fours in front of her whilst she rested her feet on the back or in the nape of the neck. She also liked this position whilst she was having her pretty toe nails buffed or pained. She would rest her feet on one of our backs whist the other of us bent over her feet, buffing away at her perfect nails. She seemed happy when one of us was kneeling around her. She enjoyed belittling us and calling us all sorts of demanding names such as “wimps”, “poodles”, “servants”, “lackeys”, and “crawlers”.

We would do anything to keep her comfortable. If the bathroom floor was too cold for her one or both of us would lie down on the floor so she could stand on us whilst she admired herself in the bathroom mirror. We would dry her tenderly when she her magnificent body emerged from the bath. She would stand imperiously over us as we knelt suppliantly before her, dabbling every last drop of moisture from her superior legs.

If she was every displeased with us (which was often) we would fall to the floor and grovel for forgiveness in front of her, kissing her pretty feet and belittling ourselves. Porsha said she liked it when we belittled ourselves as it saved her the trouble of doing it. As she seemed to take delight in this we took every opportunity of reminding her how superior and wonderful she was a how unworthy we were.

My heart filled with gladness when I saw her smile down at me as I licked her shoes clean each morning as she stood in them over me. She was smile even more warmly as I told her how honoured and privileged I was that someone as great as her would let a nobody like me lick the dirt from the soles of her shoes. When her soles were clean I would grovel on the floor as she wiped her shoes dry on my hair. If she was feeling really lazy she would make me move her foot backwards and forwards for her as she cleaned her shoes on me.

Finally she started to complain less as we got more and more devoted to her. She liked to call me her favourite little Toe Rag. My wife was jealous at first until she started to wipe Porsha bottom for her when she had finished on the toilet. After that my wife became Porsha’s favourite little derriere wiper.

Porsha lived better than a Queen. We signed over our house to her and gave her all our money. She pretended to be a little reluctant to accept and made us beg at her feet for hours to accept our present.

Once we had signed over the house Porsha let us do even more for her and we were so grateful to run around after our princess. She was so kind that she would let me kneel at her side whilst she watched TV and use my hand or head as an ash tray. Of course my wife would be on the floor in front of her acting as a foot rest. Porsha would sometimes rest her pretty feet on my wife’s back and sometimes preferred to use her face. Porsha said she appreciated her “adjustable” foot rest and that my wifes flabby skin was quite comfortable.

We would fan her when she was hot, massage her all over when she wanted to relax. She would lie naked on the couch as we serviced her.

She did get a little lazy after a while. If she was reading a magazine one of us would be on our knees holding it for her and turn the pages when she snapped her manicured fingers.

She liked to make me lick things. Over time she amassed a collection of about 50 expensive and elegant shoes which I had to lick clean every day. If she found fault she would make me beat myself (she said I should do it myself, as she could not be bothered to do it). She would laugh as I beat myself with a stick. Although it hurt a lot I was happy that this made her cheerful and would beat myself harder to make her happy. I would suffer anything for her. She was our life.

She would make my wife lick the bathroom floor clean and I would lick the toilet bowl clean after she had finished.

Porsha was a little afraid of the dark so we would both sleep in her room to keep her company. We would kneel at the foot of her bed with our heads under the covers. Sometimes Porsha would use our faces as a foot rest all night, if it was warm we would lick the sweat from the soles of her feet and if it was warm we would blow cool air on her feet. When she had had enough she would kick us away.

Porsha liked my wife to be grovelling on the floor when she awoke in the morning. She would step on my wife’s stomach so her feet would no have to touch the cold floor. I would then put her fluffy slipper on he feet. She would laugh at us and say that we were hardly really fit to be her human carpets never mind anything else.


This story is taken from:


Special thanks to: Vanity

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