The Interview

The strain on his knees had become very apparent at this point. The Man tried to shift his weight from left to right, but the tightness of his restraints kept him in place. With his wrists bound behind him, connecting to the same straps that held his ankles in place, he was helpless, vulnerable, but shivering with anticipation. The two Goddesses which sat in silence before him had deprived him of sight as well, securing a blindfold over his eyes that offered no relief. He could only imagine their beauty, and while his imagination ran wild with how divine they were, in his heart he knew nothing would compare. The final thing they did in preparation was place earplugs in him. It has been said the sound of sirens can drive men mad. And without question, if this poor soul was accepted as their slave, he would eventually be driven mad with lust and devotion, but why rush that?

 

For the moment, he remained fully clothed, though there was the bulge of a chastity cage showing underneath the black dress pants he wore today. This was his first journey down the deep rabbit hole of servitude, so long had he dreamed of being in this position that he had so willingly submitted. He would have crawled naked across the Sahara for these Goddesses when they offered to lock him up. It was everything as a submissive he had ever wanted. To kneel before a dominant woman, and now there were two, he had purpose in life and longed to show that he was a capable slave.

 

His test today was to see if it was possible to smell the difference between the two Goddesses before him. After all, if he was to be their slave, he should be able to recognize them with the slightest of touch and thank them accordingly. Thus far, each Goddess had given him the honor of smelling several pairs of their socks and shoes, sometimes they even wore them on their feet, pressing them firmly against his nose. The earplugs had not been put into place at this point, and after each pair was breathed in, one of the Goddesses would identify what he had just smelled.

 

“These are my shopping shoes,” Goddess Mary Anne said, identifying herself as well, forcing the applicants head back and driving the opening against his face, “imagine all the money you’re going to spend on me, and all the overtime hours you’re going to work just to keep me happy.”

 

Goddess Mary Anne stood up and forced the shoe even harder on the Man’s face before settling down and allowing her fellow Goddess to proceed, “these are my gym socks” Goddess Julie said with a smile, rubbing the toe portion against his nostrils and then pressing the open portion on there as well, “I work out three hours each day, think of how sweaty these are going to be, and you’ll have to worship them every day to be my slave.”

 

The Man started to give a weak reply but was given a hard smack across the left cheek by Goddess Mary Anne and was reminded not to speak unless given permission. It took everything in his power to not reply, “yes, Goddess.”

 

This continued for almost an hour, and whenever he answered incorrectly, a smack by one, and sometimes both Goddesses followed. Eventually, he identified all of their scents correctly in what was an average time thus far. Next came the taste of their feet. 

 

In what they made sure was a random fashion, Goddess Julie and Mary Anne allowed him to lick the bottoms of their feet and occasionally suck their toes. After each pass, he was to say which one it was. On this he did far better, so much so that the Goddesses were pleased and considered him a possible candidate. At long last, the earplugs were removed, at the blindfold lifted. The Man saw the two Goddesses who had held him for the past hour or so and was held speechless by their beauty. It was only after he heard one speak that their spell was momentarily broken.

 

“One final question,” Goddess Julie asked, “who’s feet tasted and smelled the best?”

 

Turning the brightest red possible, the Man looked down and his eyes grew wide. This drew astonished laughs from both Goddesses, “so one of us does have better feet than the other!” Goddess Julie exclaimed

 

The Man tried to explain that he was just embarrassed by the question, but they saw right through the farce and demanded an answer, lest a great punishment be in store. 

 

The Man kept his eyes lowered as he spoke in a weak, feeble tone, “Goddess Mary Anne.”

 

Goddess Mary Anne laughed once more and gave her counterpart a smile which seemed to suggest jest. Goddess Julie darkened and leaned in so only the Man could hear her, “you’ve got a lot of balls for someone who’s not going to ever be cumming again, slave.”

 

The newly christened slave looked up in terror as Goddess Julie produced his set of keys and walked out with them. He never saw those glistening pieces of metal again.









 

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