Lipstick gave my lips that pop to stand out bright for all the world to see. The blush on my cheeks make an accurate mask, displaying my humiliation to those around me. My two foot size keeps me reminded of my place; below my goddess. I've not been released from chastity for weeks now, probably over a month at this point. It's so wonderfully terrifying knowing the power my beloved wife has over me. While the lack of release hurts to nearly no end, it reminds me of the woman I serve. This is for her-- for her to punish me and remind me of what she's capable of.

"Are you ready?" Natalie asks, looking at me from her vanity mirror after dolling me up in my maid's uniform.

"I-if you think I am, goddess."

She pinched my rosy cheek, "What a sweetie. Alright, let's go. My guests are waiting."

I was visibly shakey, anticipating what was to come. In honor of my punishment bringing my servitude to the physical public eye-- rather than the online public's eye-- Natalie decided to throw a little soiree. Not that I don't believe my goddess deserves a party in her honor-- she absolutely does, tenfold! I've just never publically displayed my servitude toward her... in person that is. It's easy to hide behind a username on a screen and debase myself in front of people I don't know, people I'll never meet; but I know these women. Most of them are entirely unaware of mine and Natalie's marriage agreement as goddess/slave.

She guided me through the house, her palm pushing me along, giving me nowhere to turn back to. We made it to the archway that lead to her living room. I was still out of sight at this point, but one step closer and I'd be revealed. I froze in my tracks in an alternative to the fight/flight response. I heard the chatter, the gossiping, the laughing... the excitement. It sounded like an army of women in there, ready to embarrass me.

"Come on, subby," Natalie teased, "they're waiting for you."

Despite the humiliation, I want nothing more in life than to obey my wife, my goddess. With her nudge, I proceeded.

The room filled with laughter, and far too much noise to differentiate the voices in the room.

"Ladies," Natalie introduced me to the sectional couch full of women, "meet my subby hubby."

Before me sat Ashley-- Natalie's friend from high school, Rachel-- a coworker, her sister Taylor, her aunt Valerie, and of course-- to my demise-- my secondary keyholder; Heather, her mother.

"Oh my gosh!" her sister Taylor shouted, "He makes such a cute girl!"

"I love the little maid outfit," Ashley added.

"I'd tell him to get on his knees," Valerie held back laughter, "but I don't think it'a necessary at his height!"

"Or lack thereof!" Heather added to Valerie's mocking.

"How'd you get him like this?" Ashley inquired, "I'd kill to turn Richard-" her drunk of a husband- "into my personal maid!"

"I think my son could use a bit of this style of discipline too," laughed Rachel in all seriousness.

"So, Nat," Valeries started, "how'd you do it?"

"Well," Natalie lifted my skirt to reveal my chastity device, "the way to a man's heart is through is stomach. But the way to a man's will is through..."

The women roared in laughter.

"Do you ever let it out?" asked Heather.

"To wash, yeah," Natalie answered, "but he hasn't been allowed any release otherwise."

"That's so wonderfully..."  Taylor started.

"Evil," Valerie smiled, finishing her sentence.

Natalie put her hands on my shoulders and spoke into my ear, "Now subby, tell the nice ladies what I taught you to say."

I gave a red-faced smile, a curtsy, and said, "Natalie's shrunken-subby-sissy-hubby at your service," so delightfully, surpressing my embarrassment.

The women couldn't contain themselves, laughin at me to the point of tears. "You..." Ashley fought through hilarity, "You really DO have him wrapped..." she laughed more, "Wrapped arohnd your finger!"

"He really does do whatever she says," Heather added. "It's so entertaining watching him. You've gotta see some of these videos." She used her phone to cast a clip of me cleaning Natalie's shoes with my toothbrush. Laughter ensued, and did so further when Natalie came into view and had me scrub her bare feet with my brush.

"He still has that toothbrush," Natalie remarked. She's right. And I wouldn't trade it for the world.

From there the women started a marathon of Natalie's YouTube channel. I acted as the servant I am; fetching drinks and snacks, blankets and pillows, giving shoulder massages and foot rubs. I even filed some toe nails for them. When idle, I knealt at Natalie's ottoman, revelling at my goddess by planting kisses on her feet, mindful of any spots of lint or dirt to lick up as she lounged on her throne. The women cooed as I ran my tongue between her toes, summoning a relaxed hum from my beautiful wife. Some pictures and video were taken by the various ladies. I couldn't stop it no matter how much I wanted to.

"Keep that up," Natalie commanded as I pressed into her sole with my tongue in circles. At my two-foot size, her ped mre than covered my face.

"Does that feel good?" Rachel asked, curious.

"Oh god, yeah," Natalie didn't hesitate to answer. "It's like a very personal, intimate foot massage." My heartrate dreadfully rose at the possibility that became reality when Natalie offered, "Want one?"

I kept my attention on my goddess' holy feet, ready to obey but truly loathing the offer. I hoped Rachel would see my focus and concentration on my wife and not want to interrupt, but alas she obliged. "Oh, yes, please! she politely accepted, not speaking to me, but Natalie.

I kept lapping up my wife's foot, pushing back the inevitable only a moment further until she commanded, "Subby."

"Yes, goddess?" The women squealed nearly every time I uttered my mantra.

"Go give Rachel some personal attention," Natalie directed with a snap.

Despite my internal hesitation, I promptly stopped, "Yes, goddess," and crawled over to Rachel with a "Thank you."

Rachel placed her feet on the coffee table and I got to it. "Oh my," she cooed, "This..." she sighed in pleasure, "This IS nice."

"Anybody else want one?" Natalie offered, nobody actually acknowledging me for consent.

My services were shared in a landslide among the women. I thanked them at the end of each tongue massage.

"Do they all taste good?" Valerie inquired when I started with her.

"Yes, ma'am," I answered not honestly, "Thank you."

"Is the flavor different for everybody?" Natalie inquired, as I've never licked any other feet but hers.

"I think so," I mumbled with my tongue still out. Between laps of Valerie's sole, I added-- soon to regret, "The flavor's usually more prominent when I'm smaller. But I'm pretty sure I can taste the differences at this height."

"Really?" That's when Natalie got the great idea, (great in the context that all of my goddess' ideas are great), "Think you could tell who's feet belong to who by flavor alone?"

The ladies giggled at the thought. I answered, as I never ignore my goddess, "Um... maybe..." still sliding my tongue between her toes.

Without any second thought, Natalie shrunk me further, and pulled up a chair to the coffee table. The women laughed devious, evil laughs. The scent of their feet surrounding my two-inch body became unavoidable-- not that I would despite my dislike of the stench.

"Close your eyes, subby," Natalie commanded, to which I obeyed.

"Shouldn't we blindfold him?" Taylor eagerly asked.

"That's not necessary," she's right, "My subby hubby would never disobey me," it's true. "Isn't that right, subby?"

"Yes, goddess. Of course, goddess."

My face must have shown my disgust at the intensified smell and flavor. The key to really getting a clear, defined taste was between the toes. While I've never taken part in licking up any feet other than my wife's, I was not an amateur when it came to the anatomy of feet and their relation to my senses.

"Look at him go!" Ashley laughed as I correctly matched the various women's foot flavor to its source. They laughed as I crawled, eyes closed and tongue poking out, seeking the closest foot.

"He looks so lost," Taylor laughed, nearly in tears.

"Well, subby," Natalie congradulated, "I have to say, I'm honestly impressed."

"Thank you, goddess," I so gratefully kissed Natalie's feet in appreciation.

"How about we up the ante?" Heather suggested.

"What'd you have in mind?" Natalie played in, curious about her mother's offer.

"Think he can bring us our shoes? No eyes, no taste, only smell." Heather's fingers touched each other at the tips, hand to hand, like some devious villain.

"Oooh!" the women cooed, Ashley adding, "I love that."

"What do you think subby?" Natalie asked, "Think you can do it?"

I far too proudly met my knuckles to my hips and declared, "I know I can!"

"Oh my, what a confident little nose on this one!" aunt Valerie added.

"If you're so confident, how about a little wager?" Heather offered, revealing the key to my freedom on a chain hung from her neck, once hidden under her shirt.

"Is that...?" Rachel guessed, inaudibly.

Heather nodded her head to indicate; yes... this was the key to my chastity device.

The women laughed. Taylor turned to Natalie, "Why does mom have that?"

"That's just the spare," Natalie explained. "I needed somebody to keep the extra one, just on case."

"Oh my god," Ashley remarked, "that's too funny."

"So how about it, subby?" Heather offered further, "Guess the shoes to the right feet and I'll unlock your little dicklet."

There it was: my window to freedom. Maybe not indefinite freedom, but it would give me the release I so desperately longed for.

"You're on!" I agreed, far too confidently, warranting a dirty look from my goddess that made me correct my response to, "I-I mean... yes, ma'am."

Natalie, as giving and gracious as my wonderful wife is, grew me up to a foot tall; just enough height to efficiently move the shoes around.

"Alright sissy," Heather started, phone in hand to keep time, "Five minutes to pass." That wasn't part of the deal going into it but I wouldn't dare protest my own mother-in-law. "Eyes closed... Ready? Set? Go!"

With my eyes closed, I went at it. The shoes were in the foyer, so maneuvering from there to the living room made for some good laughs amongst the women as I bumped into walls and tripped over what-not.

I took the first shoe I could find; a tennis shoe, it felt like. Taylor was one of the few that arrived initially wearing socks, so I figured it had to be her. I took a deep wiff to make sure. Thinking back to the taste game moments ago, the combined scent of all the women made a cloud of smell that fogged up my memory. No tasting allowed in this game, both to my fortune and unfortunately. I had to make my best guess here, so I dragged the tennis shoe into the living room, getting the shoe caught on who-knows-what and fumbling with my eyes closed, and tried to match the smell to the right foot. I heard the snickering above me as I blindly traversed my nose amongst the women's feet placed on the ground from the couch. When I thought I found the right foot, it was back to the pile.

Next I found a leather shoe. It felt like a high heel, open-toed. I carried this one back, draped in my arms like the typical husband carries his wife on their wedding day (which was not the case for mine). The ladies got a kick out of the size of the shoe compared to me, nearly the same. In the background, a fitting video from Natalie's YouTube of my initial hesitance in any foot stuff with her, and my regrettable disgust at what became an intoxicating perfume to me over the years.

I proceeded to the feet. If I was right in my first assumption, I could rule Taylor out. The women cackled as I brought the heel to my face for a whiff; the shoe engulfing my head. The smell seemed to match Rachel's, which made sense as she came over straight from work, both her foot and the shoe smelling fresh.

I placed it clumsily, knocking it down. An "Ahem," from somebody let me know to set it upright. So I fumbled back with my eyes closed, feeling the empty ground for the shoe.

After fixing my mistake, it was back to the foyer for another round. The next shoe I snagged was the other tennis shoe, so I promptly (and blindly) delivered that one.

On my way out of the living room, Ashley chimed, "Didn't even have to sniff that one, huh?"

My pride answered for me, "No, ma'am," as I pranced back to the pile, getting better and walking around with my eyes closed.

The next challenge was a sandal. The stench aired out without anything to keep it in, so it wasn't too smelly. I buried my face deep into the sole and huffed, loudly.

Natalie poked her head through the doorway, "Hey," he barked, my head firing up, "Do that out here. We wanna watch you do it."

"Yes, goddess," I responded. I frantically dug through the pile for the second sandal to avoid taking two trips, and brought the pair back.

Picking up where I left off, I pressed my face into the rubber sole of the sandal, hard enough to make an imprint. I wouldn't have know this with my eyes closed, if not for Valerie laughing, "Oh my gosh look how desperate he is! Look, you can see his face where he pressed in!"

I didn't have much to go off of. Unfortunately (oddly enough) these didn't have much of a smell. So I browsed my options for the least smelling foot. This is where I came to a hurdle. The pattern of feet in a row messed me up. I found a foot that was far less stinky, but the next foot stunk... then the one after that didn't. It was like two women had two different feet on one body. Surely, they were messing with me, I could tell by their snickering. But without anything but my nose, I had to make my best guess, so I chose the first scentless foot to my left, then the one next to it.

My chest pumped at the freedom at stake. The idea of finally get some kind of... ANY kind of stimulation on my yearning member. I hoped I could pass this test.

The next pair I found were a set of high heels; stilettos, leather, kept in pretty good condition aside from the crusted insole. I took two trips to deliver them, and confidently found the matching smell with ease.

My final option should be easy. Only one woman left, so only one pair left. Much to my demise, something I didn't take into account, the pile was kicked ontop of Natalie's pile of usual footwear by the door. So now came the ultimate test of my devotion; differentiating between Natalie's heavenly aroma, and the scent of another woman.

Sure enough, my love for this goddess was triumphant, and I was able to dig out a pair of suede boots that did not belong. I had to drag them one by one at my size.

I needed a closer smell in the boot. So much to the ladie's enjoyment, and much to my deterrence, I crawled into the boot to reach the bottom for a whiff. The women laughed in my struggle to back out.

"He's like a cat in a bag!" laughed Taylor, who picked the boot up, sending me headfirst into the moist insole.

"Knock it off!" Natalie said, playfully, "Only I get to fuck with my hubby, unless I let you!"

Taylor dumped me out of the boot. When I caught my balance, I crawled to the couch dragging one of the boots. I felt around for the last pair of feet and delivered the boot.

Upon bringing the boot to the last pair, I caught a quick wiff and realized... these weren't the right shoes... or the right feet? I didn't know for sure.

I stood there so still before Ashley spoke up from the other end of the couch, "What's the matter, little subby? Cat got your nose?"

Without a response I buried my face into the toes before me and took a deep breath.

"Uh oh," laughed Valerie, "I think he's second guessing his decision."

"Doesn't matter," Heather said, bluntly, revealing herself as the woman who sat before me, "That's..." she counted the last second, "time."

"B-b-b-but... b-b-but..." I wimpered, eyes still closed.

"I'll be nice to ya," Heather laughed, placing her gargantuan foot on my tiny face, "I'll count that pair as delivered."

"Th-thank you ma'am," I said so graciously as I kissed her feet in gratitude. "How'd I do?" I kept kissing, "Please, PLEASE tell me I did it. I need to get out of this thing."

The women laughed at my desperation, calling it cute.

"Well, subby," Natalie started, "open your eyes."

I opened my eyes to find... just how wrong I was. "No..." I whimpered, "No, no, no!"

I was so off. Some of the shoes didn't even match, some were Natalie's even.

"Aw," Heather sarcastically cooed, "poor thing." She slid the key back under her shirt, "Guess you won't be getting that release after all."

I crawled to her, kissing her feet and so desperately hugging her leg, "Please Heather, please... I've gone so long without... without...,"

"A deal's a deal, son," my mother-in-law shrugged. "Now, run along and refill my beverage for me, will ya?"

I stood, defeated. Not that I wasn't defeated before; dressed as a sissy little maid, acting as a servant for my beautiful wife's party. To the kitchen I went for Heather's drink and returned.

From there, I was placed on my hands and knees as a foot rest. Natalie saw the defeat in my eyes. My wonderful goddess... I hoped she cared at least somewhat. "You're really bent up about this, aren't you?"

I answered so sweet and dainty, "I just really... REALLY want out of this, goddess."

"Well then," Natalie stated so matter of fact, "next time, don't delete my stories!"

"Yes goddess," I nearly wept.

"I may consider letting you out... for a price," Heather haggled.

"What is it?!" I so eagerly obliged.

Heather shrugged, "A thousand?"

My jaw dropped. She's talking about real, actual money-- which I do not make. "I-I-I don't have that!"

"Well," Natalie started, "Maybe he can work for it." She looked at Heather as if they had a plan

I peered up at my goddess in fear. Such beautifully terrifying power she holds over me. I hate it, but want nothing more.

"How about this," Natalie started, "You already play the part as my live-in little sissy maid. Why don't I rent you out for some house cleaning services?"

The ladies took audible delight in the idea. I sure as hell did not, but as a good subby hubby obliged, "Y-yes, g-goddess..."

"Will it be strictly cleaning?" Valerie inquired.

"Oooh, yeah," Ashley added, "I would LOVE to get another one of those intimate little foot rubs again." She pinched the tongue in my mouth with her toes.

"I'll let you girls do anything you want with him," Natalie offered to my demise, "No marks, though. No actual bodily harm." I feared what my beloved meant by 'ACTUAL' bodily harm.

"Yes!" Taylor added.

"Let's do this," Rachel agreed.

"So a thousand dollars," Heather reminded me, "A thousand dollars and I'll unlock that little teeny clit of yours. Got it?"

"Yes ma'am."

"And I think," she added, "as your secondary keyholder, I deserve a greater title than ma'am.'

I looked over to Natalie to figure out how to handle this.

"What did you have in mind?" Natalie inquired, not even acknowledging me.

"How about just mommy? Heather more than suggested in her twisted fantasy for a subserviant son she never had.

Natalie laughed, "I like it."

Heather presented her toes to me from where I sat, and pushed them against my lips. It was then that I noticed she moved her necklace that held my chastity key to her ankle. No doubt, to taunt me at eye level as I begrudgingly sucked her toes, listening to the video of me legitimately squirming for freedom in Natalie's panties, bringing her to climax.

I'd have a lot of work to do if I ever wanted out of this device. So again, please... somebody help me find our old story...