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What A Foot Wimp
(Posted on Wednesday, July 1, 1998)
A Story Mistress Zena

Each time I get an opportunity, I'm always telling my girlfriends--who have not awakened to the power of female domination--that they can turn any man into a groveling wimp just with the power of their feet. I tell them constantly that men were put here to worship our feet and toes. "Just see what happens when you cross your legs and dangle your shoe from your toes." I urge them. Until more women wake up, I continue to practice what I preach and advocate the practice of Black female supermacy everywhere I go.

For example, there was this male lawyer who represented me in a civil dispute but wanted a bigger take of the spoils than I thought he should have. So, to get him to see things my way, I invited him out to dinner at a remote restaurant. Little did he know what was going to happen. On the night of the dinner meeting, he looked very surprised to see another lady sitting on my side of the booth. "Well, hello. I didn't know you were bringing another guest." He said while sitting down.

"Yes. This is Natasha, a good friend of mine." I said, introducing the two of them.

After we all exchanged the usual pleaseantries, I told the lawyer, David, that I wanted to cut to the chase. "I am very upset that you want 50 percent. I will only allow you to have 20 percent."

Just as I finished my sentence, David broke out in an arrogant laugh. "Well, that is just totally unreasonable to me."

I turned to my friend Natasha, and we both smiled at each other at the same time. At that point, I slipped out of my black high-heeled patent leather pumps that I had been wearing all day without any stockings. So you can imagine how sweaty my feet were. Slowly, I eased my size 11 feet into his lap under the table. Then, I started to wiggle my long, nimble toes against his cock and balls. I peered into his weak eyes with a stern, cold glaze. "What did you just say, wimp?" I said in a low, mean voice.

I could tell David was starting to be affected. His cock started to grow inside his pants as I continued to wiggle and stretch my toes against his crotch. David's face then started to turn red. My friend Natasha asked just as sternly, "Answer her, now wimp. What did you tell tell her? Did you say she was unreasonable, huh?"

David was struggling with his breathing. "Uh, I said that I don't think that's possible..."

I looked at Natasha. We weren't smiling then. We were about to teach David a very important lesson in Black female supremacy. "Listen, let me tell you something, you little wimp!" I said, moving my face closer to his across the table. "I am a dominant Black woman and so is my friend. My name is Mistress Zena and this a Mistress Natasha." I noticed that Natasha had just taken her shoes off. She wears about a size 9 and her toes are just as nimble. I continued my interrogation. "You will never address us--stern, bossy proud Black women--in any way other than 'yes Mistress' or'yes Goddess' is that clear?" I was growing increasingly agitated, as was Mistress Natasha. I was able to grab onto his hard cock with my toes right through his pants. "Now, you apologize right now!" I said.

David, without hestitation said, "Goddess Zena and Mistress Natasha, I apologize for my behavior. Please forgive this stupid white boy. Please?"

Natasha and I weren't satisfied that he was sincere enough. It was time to make him atone for his wrong doing. I told David to unzip his pants and lie on the floor underneath the table. I told him that I wanted his face under Mistress Natasha's feet and that his cock under my feet. "That's where the so-called man's strength is--the puny cock and I am going to take away your so-called manhood with my beautiful black feet." I said.

"You mean you want me to lie on the floor?" He asked. "Right here in the restaurant? What about all of these people? And the waitress?"

Mistress Natasha and I beamed straight into his eyes. "What did we just get through telling you, fool?" Mistress Natasha questioned.

I could tell she was getting pissed off like I was. Then I chimed in. "Your only words to us tonight will be 'yes Goddess Zena' and 'yes Mistress Natasha'. "

The waitress came by to ask our order. She was a younger black woman, but she looked tired. When I said she looked wiped out, she said, "I have been on my feet all day and my feet are killing me." She said.

I smiled to myself and told her, "I might have a cure for you later." When she left, Mistress Natasha and I ordered David on the floor with his pants unzipped a second time. "Do it now, boy!" I said, my voice rising. "That's the last time we're going to say it." This time, without hestitation, David unzipped his trousers. I said, "Pull down your boxer shorts too and be quick about it." He slipped his underwear down as he got under the table. We could see his hard cock sticking out.

David laid his head by Mistress Natasha. She smothered his face with her sweaty, nylon-clad feet. She was wearing black stockings with re-inforced toes and heels. Mistress Natasha said, "Now David, you are going to experience Black female superemacy. Smell my feet!" Mistress Natasha said to him as she ducked her head under the table cloth. David's cock began to respond with more stiffness at the smell of Mistress Natasha's feet.

Then, I wrapped my long toes around his cock and kneaded it like it was rolling dough. "David, my earlier command was for you to recieve a smaller portion of the take and that's what you will get...Is that clear?" Perhaps, it was because his mouth was muffled under Mistress Natasha's feet. I then told David to suck Mistress Natasha's sweaty toes through her stockings. After a few minutes of toe-sucking, and my gripping his cock with my toes, I then nestled David's cock between the arches of my soft feet. "You are being humbled by stern, dominant Black women. The feet you feel on your miserable little cock are that of the Black Goddess. Now, for the last time, say that you will accept 20 percent. Say it now!" I started to stroke his cock up and down with my feet. "Say it now! Black Goddess, I will take 20 percent." I ordered as I continued to stroke a little faster. His cock got even harder.

The waitress came back with our food. Her eyes popped out when she saw what was happening. When she placed the tray down with our orders, she said with great enthusiasm, "Ohh! Can I get on this too?"

"Of course, my sister." Mistress Natasha and I said at the same time. The waitress looked around to see if any other of her co-workers could see. She then took off one of her well-worn white moccasins--she wasn't wearing stockings--and she helped Mistress Natasha smother David's face.

"You no good wimp." the waitress said, as she grinded her sweaty foot into David's nose.

Then I said, "Hey sister, if the coast is clear, let's move this scum out a little so you can stand on his chest, while my friend smothers his face with her feet, and I jerk him off with mine." The waitress excitedly looked, and nodded that it was okay. I ordered David to move out a few feet and to unbutton his shirt; to feel the sweat of the waitress's sweaty bare feet on his bare pale chest. With protest, he complied. The waitress mounted his ugly chest, while Mistress Natasha smothered his face with her feet, and I continued stroking his cock with the insides of my feet. "Say, 'I will take 20 percent' 'I will take 20 percent' now boy!" I ordered.

Then David started to say, "I...I..."

"Say it, you no-good foot fetishist wimp! Say! 'I will take 20 percent, my Black Goddess!" I commanded.

The combination of the weight and hot feet of the waitress on his chest, Mistress Natasha's sweaty feet, and my sweaty, soft feet was what finally overpowered him. As I stroked even faster, he was trying to catch his breath. "I will take 20 percent, my Black Goddess." He whimpred.

I knew he was about ready to explode, and I told him to recite this phrase, "I believe in Black female supremacy." He immediately complied, and shot load after load of thick cum all over my feet. Some even splattered onto Natasha's feet, and that of the waitress. "Well, my Black sisters. Mission accomplished." I announced. "Now David, you lick our feet clean of your filth. You have just soiled our exquisite Black feet. These feet are royalty--supremacist feet." He slowly crawled to his knees, and licked all of our feet. Mistress Natasha and I left the restaurant knowing that we had not only gotten our way, but converted another woman into the family of female supremacy.

The End

Goddess Zena is a tall, stern, no-nonsense, lifestyle Black female supremacist.
She specializes in fulfilling kinky foot fetish fantasies, and has the support of
Mistress Natasha, to keep all men on their knees, worshipping their beautiful feet.
To contact Goddess Zena, call 1-202-298-8928, but only if you are truly sincere.

For another story from Goddess Zena, see:   Black Dominatrix Society

(A Story By Goddess Zena. Click here for her Website.)

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