The Ashtray
By DG
dg_2001x@yahoo.com


PART I


The beautiful Goth girl was laying on the floor, on her stomach...with her ankles tied and her soles facing upwards... tough, hard, leathery yellowish soles, showing countless marks of burnings and some ashes on them... Smokers went and put out their cigarette butts on her soles, without even looking at them, as if they were just ashtrays....the girl clenched her teeth and a rictus of pain showed on her face with each burning, but she didn't utter even a word.

From time to time, a smoker played a bit... Coming next to the "ashtray", he cleaned the girl's soles with his hand, removing the ashes that covered them....examined the surface of her soles, the shape of her feet... touched her soles and felt how hard and rough they were... He smiled, clearly enjoying what he saw and what his hands felt. The girl trembled, as she knew those who examined her soles were the worst ones... The guy looked for an unburned spot on her soles, and, slowly, put the fired end of the cigarette on it...just touching the leathery skin, but without enough pressure to turn the flame off. He inhaled the cigarette to make the flame alive again, and came back to his fun. For half an hour, the ashtray had been his owns...lots of red points cover that living leather surface. The girl had suffered a tremendous torture, but not even a word has escaped from her mouth... though tears rolled on her cheeks. Then the guy cleaned the ashes again, gave a long, passionate kiss to both her soles and licked them...untied the girl and told her:

"The night is over my love, we can go home now"




PART II


The car stopped and He opened the door for her. She walked behind him. Once inside, she knew what to do: Kneeling in front of him, she offered Him the chains and the whip. He secured the chain around her neck and they went inside the Pleasure Room, as He liked it to be called. She knew that from all her perfect body, the part he liked the most was her feet. Her perfectly shaped, delicate, feminine yet strong feet. Her soles felt and looked like leather, and He was proud of that. He used to boast about the soles of his slavegirl's feet in front of all his friends. Her soles were always, ALWAYS the "official" ashtray in any social reunion he hosted. He was happy when, during a party, he offered a toast and after it, asked all the guests to throw her champagne glasses to the ground and break them. They were always amazed to see this beautiful half-naked girl who came with a broom, gathered all the glass pieces and, with a smile in her face but with sad eyes, started to dance slowly on the broken glass... her bare feet cracked the sharp glass shards, the sound was like music... an expression of pain could be noticed on her face. It was clear for everyone that it hurt her, that the pain was unbearable, but she didn't stop. Ten, fifteen, twenty minutes she danced on the glass... He softly took her hand and she knew it was time for her to stop the dance. She laid on one of the tables, looking downwards, with her naked feet hanging off one of the table's edges for the people to admire her soles. Women and men, slowly, approached to watch those tortured soles, to touch them. They bled slightly in some places, where her tough skin wasn't hard enough as to avoid the glass cutting it. The people admired the raw, wild beauty of such leathery, weathered, well inured soles. They knew this girl hadn't worn shoes in years.

His voice awakened her from her memories. He just said "Give me your feet" and she climbed to the special chair. Her feet were raised and her ankles were secured to the supports with tight chains around her slender ankles. This was the perfect position, her soles were almost at His eyes height. She knew the night wasn't over, that He was going to please Himself in savegely torturing the soles of her feet all night long.

She smiled at Him. The tension of her body increased, she clenched her teeth and got ready for the torments.

"Please, start hurting my soles, Master, my love. Hard, really hard, I beg you" her mouth uttered... a tear rolled out her eye and stood still on her smiling lips.

As He tortured her helpless soles, she contorted in pain, crying almost unhuman sounds, mixed with pleasure moans as she reached the climax. Pain and pleasure were the same thing for her now, the more her soles suffered, the more pleasure she felt. Her feet, her soles were the gate to Heaven through hell...