It was a cloudy rainy dusk. I had taken a job working in a women’s shoe store to try and make ends meet. Today I was beginning to think I made a huge mistake. It seems the gray day and the ability to buy on line is keeping people shopping at home.
I was left alone in the store all day, and pretty much could have read War and Peace uninterrupted. I stepped outside for a moment looked up and down the empty street and decided to close up early. I walked back in the store and began counting out the day’s lack of receipts when the little bell on the door jingled.
Standing in the doorway were two women. One in a long “London Fog” coat, the other was wearing a white blouse slightly shear, a medium length skirt with a slit up the front and slingback open toed heels with a dark red toe nails. Both of them had captured my attention and they knew it.
The woman in the shear blouse had dark nipples, visible through the white as if she rouged them before getting dressed.
“We just got pedicures and need new shoes.” She said.
“You’re open aren’t you?” She continued.
‘Yes Yes I am…” I stammered and invited them into the store.
They walked to the back. The one in the coat never spoke a word; she just silently stood while the other sat. I knelt before her. She raised her leg. The skirt fell away at the slit. I could swear I saw a glimpse of bare pussy.
“Take off my shoe.”
I looked up.
“It’s what you do isn’t it?”
Again, I stammered, in awe at the beauty and power of this woman and the slender foot before me.
“Maybe we should just go somewhere else”
“No.” I responded “Please.” and gently took her foot into my hand.
She smiled as I took off her shoe, a gentle scent of spring rose to meet my nose, left over from the pedicure no doubt.
“Please?” she said. A wicked grin swept across her face.
“I have been here before; I’ve seen you work. I know what you really want.”
I was a little confused and admittedly a lot turned on by this woman. Still trying to be the salesman I regained what little composure I could muster and jokingly.
“I want to make you happy.”
“Yes you do” She smiled.
I reached for the sizer.
“No. Make me happy.”
I looked up, again confused. She pointed her foot.
I hesitated a moment. She put her foot down and reached for her shoe.
“Maybe you don’t want to make me happy.”
I don’t know what came over me. Suddenly I felt like I had no self-control. I gently put my hand on her foot, stopping her. I raised her bare foot to my mouth.
“That’s a good boy.” She said. “Make me happy”
I started slowly at first sucking and licking each toe. Glancing up I noticed her skirt had slipped away and as I suspected, she was not wearing any panties. Her shaved pussy was visible now. She placed her finger at the slit and slowly drew it up along its length. A drop of dew glistened as her lips parted and swelled with rising excitement.
I knew it couldn’t just be from the toe sucking I was administering but I didn’t stop to question. She slipped off her other shoe and placed it in my crotch.
“Nice” she said. “Take off your pants”
I stood to oblige and she pushed me back down.
“Don’t stop sucking.”
So with her foot still in my mouth I struggled to remove my pants. She seemed to enjoy this and giggled.
Once I had my pants off, she stroked my hard cock with her other foot while I continued manipulating each of her toes with my tongue. She grabbed my head and pulled me into her crotch.
“Eat.” She ordered.
I obliged. Licking and sucking her pussy like a starving man at his last supper. She pulled my head in tight and wrapped her legs around my ears. She began bucking more and more wildly I couldn’t pull away even if I wanted to.
Suddenly she pushed me away. I fell on my ass. My hard cock sticking up in the air like a salute. I almost felt silly. She dropped to her knees before me; the warmth of her mouth enveloping my stiffness quickly changed that. I had never felt anything like this hot mouth and lips wrapped around my cock before. I was lost in the pleasure this woman was giving me.
Suddenly I heard her moan and buck forward slightly. This wasn’t from me. I opened my eyes to see the woman with the London Fog coat sans coat standing above.
She had reached around and unbuttoned the shirt of my oral giver and pulled her shirt off, freeing the most perfect breast I had ever seen. London Fog’s were slightly smaller but the nipples were magnificently erect. I scanned down the goddess before us and noticed a small tube in her hand. She had poured a generous amount of lube on my oral mistress.
I noticed between her legs, a rubber penis. She placed it at the ass of the women on my cock and pushed. With each push, The woman sucking my cock took more of me down her throat. I almost came right then and there. The idea that this woman was sucking me off while another woman was fucking her in the ass was more than I could process. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the feeling.
In unison both women spun around me without missing a beat. I was now looking directly up at a wet pussy, and a rubber cock sliding in and out of a beautiful ass.
London Fog spoke for the first time.
“Don’t you cum.”
I didn’t know if she was talking to her, or me but I couldn’t stop and I blasted a load into the hot mouth wrapped around my cock.
Apparently she was talking to me. Angrily, London Fog pulled the rubber penis from the magnificent ass, grabbed some kerchiefs from a display rack and deftly wrapped them around my wrists.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
” Making you mine” she said.
She tied the other ends to the chairs. Before I could respond the naked woman, who so expertly sucked me off, sat on my face. I continued to lick and suck this beautiful pussy not really aware of or caring about what else was happening.
Then I realized that my legs were being pulled over and my ankles were tied to the same chairs as my wrist. The first woman stepped up and off my face. Here I was tied and fully exposed and vulnerable. The two women looked me over for a moment, then turned their attentions on each other as if I wasn’t even there.
They laid down in a sixty-nine position and the woman who so expertly sucked my cock was now getting eaten out by the woman with the rubber penis. She pushed the rubber penis up and returned the favor. I watched in amazement as my cock responded involuntarily to this hot scene.
After a few moments, they sat up and turn their attention back to me. London Fog handed the other woman a small strap, which was then placed around the base of my cock and tightened. The first woman stepped over my face and slowly lowered herself down onto my face again. I began licking again this now familiar pussy. When Suddenly I felt the cold gel of lubricant on my ass. I struggled, but my moans were muffled inside a wet pussy. My ass high and exposed I couldn’t do anything. The woman on my face then slid down between my body and upturned legs, she placed my cock at the entrance to her hot pussy and began sliding down my stiff shaft.
I felt the tip of the rubber penis at the entrance to my ass. I cried out in fear but the pleasure was too great. With push of the woman on me the woman behind me slid the rubber up my back entrance.
“You will learn to obey me and you will be mine.”
I was engulfed in pleasure. Lost in sea of flesh that enveloped me and the latex that filled me. I was no longer a man, but a tool of pleasure to be used and had by these women.
In and out, the woman behind pumped me, up and down; the woman on top milked me. My balls never felt as heavy and full as they did now. My mind was one big mass of pleasure nothing was real anymore. Every touch was pleasure multiplied.
“You are mine, slut” echoed in my ears.
Moaning and groaning grew louder. The woman on top cried out that she was cumming, her pussy gripped me like a vice. The woman in my ass pushed deeper. Suddenly the woman in my ass pulled out leaving me wanting. She pulled on the ties and my legs fell down. The woman on my cock moved to my face.
The woman behind stepped over my cock and swiftly shoved it deep into her pussy. I cried out in pleasure, never had I felt a pussy so tight. She bucked wildly now gripping my stiffness within her pussy. I buck madly unable to cum.
In seconds my mouth was flooded with pussy juice. A moment later, my cock was also drenched as both women came on me in a flood of overwhelming excitement. London Fog slowly rose off of me. My cock was still hard, pointing straight up, the strap preventing me from shooting. Both women got down close to my cock and gripped it with their hands stroking me, watching me beg to cum for them.
“Look at me” London Fog said. “Look me in the eye”
I looked in her eyes and was lost in her beauty and strength. The other woman again began to stroke my cock. I had to cum soon. London Fog, never taking her eyes from mine, wrapped her fingers around the tip of my cock and expertly squeezed and slid her hand up and down while the other woman fondled my balls. The other woman expertly flicked the strap releasing my cock. In seconds I came like a geyser. Shooting ropes of cum high in the air, arcing, landing on my chest
London Fog scooped up a small pool of my cum, placed it on the lips of the other woman, they kissed.
Then she did the same to me. She stood and put her coat back on while the other woman got dressed. London Fog turned to me. She untied my wrists, handed me a small piece of paper on it with an address
“Midnight, you belong to me.”
The two women left leaving me naked, spent and horny for more.
I wanted her so badly. From the first moment I saw her I wanted to embrace her, to shower her lips with teasing kisses, to feel the swell of her breasts against my own. I wanted to make gentle, languid love with her and fall asleep holding her close to me.
But most of all I wanted her to see me; to peer deep into me and recognize the profound emotions she stirred.
I still revel in my good fortune that we’re together. She’s so delicate, so shy, and is still exploring her sexuality. We’ve been getting closer for a few weeks. I am her first female interest and, as I said, I still revel in my good fortune.
Our time together has been wonderful. I’m comfortable around her, and she’s learning to relax around me. Of course, I’m taking it as slowly as I can bear. For example, I rarely touch her while we’re in public. When I do, the touches are brief and far from intimate. Instead, I let her do what feels right for her. A brush of her shoulder against mine, a hesitant hand on my arm, even a quick hug in greeting are all things I let her initiate. And I treasure each one.
We’ve been going very slowly with our private displays of affection, too. We have kissed. Oh, my, but they were everything I hoped they would be, and more. Kisses so soft and warm, not rushed. I love losing myself in her delicious mouth. We’ve petted a few times, too; gentle, tentative explorations through clothing.
I haven’t caressed the bare skin of her breasts, or the naked hollow between her thighs not even a fleeting grope of her spectacular nude bottom. Not yet. But my palms have enjoyed the sensation of her pert nipples through sheer fabric. And once, when I played with her lacey panties and they failed to contain the molten flow her arousal. Late that night, as I fought for sleep alone in my bed, I inhaled my fingertips—and the fragrance that clung to them. My free hand sought to quench my own inner fires. She was so thick in my mind that even after two hard climaxes sleep eluded me.
* * * * * * *
This night was going to be different. This would be a romantic date with a wonderful meal at a ritzy restaurant. Maybe we’d do a little clubbing. Then home for dessert or a nightcap. Perhaps we might share a bit more . . .
I met her at the street in front of her apartment. As I climbed from the cab and caught sight of her I gasped. She looked radiant! She shimmered, all green, gold and copper. Her creamy skin set off her red-orange hair and emerald eyes. The sleek mint dress molded to her lithe figure. Her understated jewelry and make-up only accentuated her natural beauty.
As I held the door for her, the scent of her perfume had the most profound effect on me. It was going to be a struggle to keep my hands from her in the cab. I wasn’t sure how I was going to manage for the long evening until we actually got home. The seam of her stockings along the backs of her gorgeous legs certainly challenged my resolve.
We walked in together. People turned to look, as I knew they would. Some of them may have looked at me in my charcoal pencil skirt and burgundy silk blouse. But I’m certain everyone stared at her. I know I did, again and again.
We had a fantastic table. The meal was superb. Our waiter was funny, very attentive, and understood us. The wine was dry and left us happy, even a bit giddy. The dessert was fabulous. And through it all I could not stop looking at her. The way she moved, the sparkle of her smile, her glistening eyes as they occasionally brushed past mine.
The sensual portion of my mind was acutely aware of her body. As she reached for some morsel or laughed at some joke, the jostle of her breasts captivated me. The graceful arch of her neck made me want to nibble from her earlobe to her collarbone. Her lips repeatedly confounded my powers of speech as she ate or spoke.
At one point we reached for the wine bottle together. My fingers grazed the back of her hand and our eyes met. She looked away, but her cheeks flushed and goose bumps raced up her arm and across her chest. I noted how her nipples tightened. It was erotic, powerful and beautiful.
By the time we paid the check and made our way to the street, my silk blouse strummed my hard nipples and my panties clung to my lips. I needed to be alone with her so badly that I dreaded more time in public. But I didn’t want to disappoint her, either.
“Where would you like to go next? ‘Sensible Shoes’ is playing at The Indy Inn . . . .”
Her answer thrilled me. “Let’s go to your place instead. We could listen to music there.” She gazed into my face for an instant then looked at the sidewalk. Her cheeks colored. My God, she was so gorgeous it practically broke my heart just to look at her.
Grinning like a fool, I hailed a cab and held her door. I watched her legs as she climbed into the back. It was exquisite torture.
We sat close together and I somehow managed to keep my hands from doing anything inappropriate. But, oh, how I wanted to touch her. I was intensely aware of her shoulder against mine, and how her lovely hand rested on my leg. It was unconscious and only lasted a moment, but I dampened at her touch.
Once inside, it was more torture. She was so alluring, and so hesitant. I poured a little more wine for us while she looked through the selection of music and picked out Sade and Diana Krall. We eased into our own intimate little world.
We talked and laughed. Sometimes I would touch her arm, or her shoulder, or her face, and gauge the reaction. She began to relax and warmed to my touches. The music filled empty spaces in the conversation with romantic melodies and sensual voices.
I was dying as she leaned toward me and we kissed. Oh, God, that was such an amazing kiss! Her lips felt wonderful, and the hours of denial left me sensitive to even the slightest contact. As soon as her lips met mine, molded onto mine, clung to my lipstick as we parted, I knew I would do anything she wanted. I would even let her leave—right then—if she wanted to.
But in the next memorable instant, I knew she would stay. Her hands reached to her shoulders. Her arms crossed in front of her as if to hide her sweet breasts from my penetrating stare. I watched as she slid off her straps. She glanced at me and her eyelids fluttered closed. Her hands trembled, but whether from trepidation or desire, I couldn’t say.
I cupped her jaw in my hand. Eyes still shut, she leaned into my palm and a mew of desire escaped her. We kissed again and I began to undress her. My hands shook as I opened the side zipper and eased the dress from her torso. Everything happened in slow motion. Her strapless bra appeared, all lace and magic, but I was too lost in our kiss. But I had to view her lovely body when the dress bunched at her waist.
Her bra supported and shaped her breasts. The lace revealed her straining nipples. She sighed, leaned back on the couch, and seemed to signal her surrender. I spent a wonderful few minutes kissing and nibbling and licking and nipping her warm skin as I unwrapped my gift of her.
When it was time to slide the dress out from under her she raised her hips. The garment slipped from her body and exposed more stunning lingerie. I realized that she had not bothered with panties; my breathing stopped and my mouth went dry. Her legs remained together, but a soft tuft of light red hair peeked from beneath the garter belt.
“Will you turn off the light?” she asked in a tiny voice. “Please?”
“But, I want to look at you. You are sooo gorgeous. Sooo sexy—”
“No, please,” she interrupted, covering her lap with two small hands, “I’m too shy.” She took a deep breath; it sounded more like a whimper.
“All right,” I murmured. The lamp switch snapped and we plunged into darkness.
“Kiss me!” she whispered. I stood for a moment and undid my skirt. It whisked past my hips and onto the floor. I opened my silk blouse and exposed my thickened nipples before I moved to the couch. Our lips met again. Electricity sizzled through my body and into my slit. My soaked panties stuck to my throbbing labia.
We kissed until her breathing grew shallow and quick. I nibbled down her neck and past her collarbone. I nipped my way to her breast and licked and kissed the edge of her bra. My eyes had grown accustomed to the dim light that trickled through the window, so I was just able to witness her wonderful response through the lace. Both areolas wrinkled, so aroused. The tiny swipe of my tongue over one pink nipple elicited a sharp gasp of surprised pleasure. When I tasted her other nipple my reward was a wanton moan.
After my quivering lips navigated the smooth plain of her tummy, I poised before the alluring sight of her delectable treasure. I could make out her coppery triangle in the soft shaft of light that played over her hips. She glistened with need. The perfume of her excitement intoxicated me and it was all I could do to keep my desires in check.
Instead of rushing things I teased her. I ran my lips over her thighs, played my tongue around her garters, and nibbled at the crease between her hip and leg. I tasted her everywhere except the dampened sweetness of her lips. It was too important to rush. She had to want me to devour her—even more than I wanted it.
“Please! Don’t tease me, please! Now—please nibble on me.” My heart leapt as I moved towards her.
“Now, please!” Desperation colored her demand.
I will always remember that first slow, subtle stroke of my tongue against her yielding flesh. She was incredibly hot to the touch, and tasted as sweet as fine champagne. My caresses licked their way from the skin of her leg onto the edge of her parted lips then further until I reached upward into her. Her pussy was exquisite, so luscious, and exploring her was more than worth the wait.
I wielded a paintbrush tongue over the slick canvas of her quivering petals. She shivered and emitted subtle moans and gasps when I touched her where she wanted, in the way that she wanted. I made note of those responses and built upon them. My lips and mouth devoured her, and my fingers strayed to help coax just a little more from the succulent tropical fruit of her sex. I lost myself in the experience of her.
She became more vocal, louder in her pleasure. I glanced up from my delicious task. Her head lay back in a relaxed pose. She had opened the front clasp of her bra. Her pale breasts contrasted with the fiery glow of two very erect nipples, visible even in the dim light. As her arousal soared, her slim hands played and pinched and pulled her thickened flesh. I bit down on her hooded nub with my lips. My tongue caressed inside her. Erotic honey ran and I drank from her with abandon.
She reacted then. Her body shook and shuddered, and I knew she was coasting through a small peak of fulfillment. I backed off until she regained some of her desire. Then I worked her into another climax. That’s when I felt her dainty foot running itself along my thigh.
“Oooh,” I moaned into her. She moved her foot higher as I suckled her morsel. She reached between my soaked folds and stroked back and forth. It was wonderful!
She had let me massage her once, and I spent time mouthing her pretty feet. Now the little foot that I had once nibbled, the toes I had once sucked, the instep I once had kissed, were all being unleashed on my needy vulva. My hips jerked in anticipation. I hadn’t realized just how much I craved release, or how close I was to achieving it.
She eased the top of her foot into me, pressing my panties in as well. The wetness and the smooth fabric combined to produce delightful sensations. I teetered on the brink, but I didn’t want to tumble over that edge all by myself. My eyes closed as I shuddered. My nipples hardened and my toes began to curl. I had to hurry.
My hands steadied her hips and my lips and tongue sought to push her along. For an agonizing moment I feared that our timing was off. I felt her hands in my hair as she pressed herself hard against my mouth. I looked up at my angel—
Her face was turned to me. In the half-light I could just make out her eyes. Their green hue had turned flinty in the dark but there was no doubt that she stared into my face. My mouth sucked and licked her wetness. Her foot grew more insistent and I ground myself down onto it. I was falling, and I couldn’t hold back any longer.
She stared into my eyes—there could be no doubt. My touch sought to communicate the full gamete of emotions I felt for her. And she saw me. She saw deep into my heart and even deeper into my soul. She really saw me!
Her smooth voice sounded husky with need as she said, “Cum with me, Lover!”
That’s what I did. Our bodies merged and we melted into one another. My mouth sensed every nuance of the devastating crest that left her gasping in joy. My pelvis rocked and imploded with her foot firmly massaging and invading me. I growled and mumbled incoherent sounds of fulfillment that were muffled by her delicious heat.
And all the while, through the overwhelming physical and emotional sensations, our eyes never looked away and never closed. That climax together was the height of intimacy, unlike anything I had ever experienced in my life. For an instant I debated, holding fast to the last shred of my world. Then I let go and fell, tumbling and roiling into a vortex of her love, and lost myself in those eyes.
I’ve been there ever since.
2. My Master
This is a true story and all normal disclaimers apply. All sex is between people of legal age.
Kyle went about a week of not mentioning the night that I had sucked his dick before he brought it up. It was just the two of us drinking in his room and watching Bad Santa when he made the first mention of it. I had been taking my cues from him and didn’t want to bring it up. He hadn’t acted weird at all so I was ignoring it also. Very casually Kyle asked, “Remember last weekend when I came in your mouth?” I almost choked to death. How on earth was that an opener to discussing your friend blowing you for the first time? I replied, “Yeah man I’m sorry about that whole thing. I wanted to talk to you about that. I was just really drunk and I don’t know what the Hell happened.” He didn’t believe that at all.
He said, “Now, now let’s not add lying to being gay…those sins together are a direct ticket to hell.” He was laughing and smiling as he said it so I knew he was joking.
“But seriously, Levi, I know you liked it. Just to make it easier for you I’m going to tell you that you’re gay so you don’t have to tell me.”
I was super relieved at this. I just looked at him and I knew why he was my best friend and I couldn’t think of anything to say so I just sat there and held my breath.
He asked, “You want to suck my dick again because I would love to cum in your mouth again?”
I replied, “I would really like to try again. I know that I wasn’t very good and I think a lot of that was nerves. With you awake and knowing everything I think I could do better and I really did love it. Honestly, I didn’t plan it or anything. It just happened but I am really happy it did and really happy you are so cool with this.”
He said, “I think you did just fine the first time but there is all kinds of other stuff I would love to try.”
I asked, “Like what?”
He said, “I have always wanted to try a role-playing thing. You know like you would be my slave and I would be your master.”
I just looked at him for a minute not really sure what to say before I asked, “What kind of stuff? You want me to like do your laundry and shit?”
He replied, “You are such an idiot. No, that’s not what I mean. If you trust me just say yes master.
Always refer to me as master when we are playing and just do everything I tell you.”
With a big smile I got on my knees in front of where Kyle was sitting and said, “Yes, Master.”
Kyle said, “That’s a good little bitch. Take off your master’s shoes for him.”
Kyle put a big size 13 foot on my face. I felt the bottom of his sock rubbing the right side of my face and I could smell his foot. It didn’t smell rank at all. It was a light smell of sweat. I was in heaven as my master Kyle’s foot smell was filling my nostrils. I had immediately fallen in love with this master-slave role-playing thing.
Kyle said, “Take off your master’s socks and rub his feet for him. Suck his big toes like they were his cock.”
I pulled off each sock slowly and revealed those long slender feet and toes. For the first time I viewed feet as sexy. I took master’s left foot in my hand and with my thumbs in his arch and my fingers on the back of his gorgeous foot I started to massage Kyle’s foot. I took his long big toe into my mouth and started slowly sucking it softly. I couldn’t believe I had my best friend’s toe in my mouth and loved it. I moved onto his right foot and Kyle was lying on his back breathing heavily.
Kyle said, “Undo your master’s belt and pants and slide them off but leave your master’s boxer briefs on him. Then take your master’s shirt off of him and lick his arm pits.”
I was all too happy to oblige. I removed Kyle’s clothes as slowly as I could, wanting to savor this forever. When I slid his pants down I ran my open hands down his perfectly shaped ass globes stopping for just a moment to cop a feel of his muscular ass. I got his shirt off and started inhaling and licking his right armpit. I heard, “That’s right you nasty bitch, lick your master’s dirty armpits.” His pits weren’t nasty at all but I really wanted to make Kyle happy so I started to moan softly as I lapped at his mildly hairy armpits. I started to rub his nipple while I was licking his left armpit. Kyle said, “You stupid little bitch, master never said you could touch his nipples. Master is saving them for next time. Master has all kinds of things planned for you over the summer and you will do as told.” I was so disappointed in myself. I wanted to serve him completely and I was angry with myself. I got off the bed and dropped to my knees. “Master I am so sorry. Please let me make this right for you. I want to only serve you.”
Kyle replied, “We will try again with the master/slave game some other time. To be honest I wasn’t totally into it and hearing you beg kind of ruined it. You did well with the character but I didn’t like it as much as I thought I would.”
I was in front of him on my knees now feeling totally stupid so I did the only thing I thought was appropriate. I asked, “Can I still suck your dick?”
Kyle laughed and lied back down on the bed and said, “Go to town Levi. Just do it real slow and try to swallow all of it as often as you can.”
I took those words to heart. I went to the foot of the bed pulled his underwear off and laid on the bed between his calves with my mouth positioned right over his swollen dick. His dick was lying on his stomach and I grabbed it and pulled it down so it was pointing straight up. I started to stroke it real slow and began licking his ball. He must not have expected to feel my tongue on his balls because he kind of jumped. I was getting his big beautiful balls soaked in my spit. They tasted so good. I could taste a little sweat and smell the faintest aroma of piss in his beautifully trimmed mane of pubes. When I couldn’t wait any longer I started licking his piss slit. I could taste his delicious precum and I wanted more. I was still stroking him really slowly and now I was tonguing his whole mushroom tip and savoring every bit of it. He was semi-circumcised and I loved the old musty smell of his big dick. I slowly moved from licking his big purple cockhead to sucking it. I loved the feel of Kyle’s dick in my mouth. It was the softest skin in the whole world and it tasted so good.
I was now in full swing. Slowly moving my lips down his pulsating shaft until his dick was at the back of my throat. I swallowed the whole mushroom tip at once and kept advancing. My nose was now buried in his pubes and I had his whole dick in my mouth and throat. He was really moaning. I was massaging his balls while deepthroating him. I was in heaven smelling his bush and having that huge dick in my throat but I had to come up for air. I popped his crown out of my throat just long enough to take a breath and I swallowed it again. Kyle had started humping my face again. But this time he was thrusting really slowly. I loved the feel of his huge hand on the back of my head. I felt so safe with Kyle’s hand on my head and dick in my mouth. His smell and taste were so inviting and after all he was my best friend. Just like last time Kyle warned me he was going to cum. I wanted it in my mouth and knew that this time. His thrusting had quickened and I was sucking even harder. Then wave after wave came with a load groan from Kyle. His cum was so hot in my mouth. It tasted even better than last time. I didn’t want to swallow it. I wanted to hold it in my mouth forever. Kyle was laying there breathing heavy with his dick in his hand and I was lying between his legs using his right thigh as a pillow when I swallowed my second load of cum ever. I will never forget that night. It was perfect. Then Kyle propped himself up on his elbows and looked at me and said, “That was really, really good. I would never have guessed having a gay guy for my best friend would have turned out so awesome. There is some stuff I really want to try tomorrow night if you are up for it.”
To be continued…
As always comments/critiques are appreciated and feel free to email feedback.
Teased and denied by my Mistress’s Feet
My wife always knew I had a foot fetish. She loved the attention I would lavish on her feet, allowing me to provide her with long intimate foot massages when ever she wished, dutifully giving her a pedicure each week, to ensure her toenails were always perfectly painted, and that her soles, heels and toes were soft and supple. She would often indulge my insatiable fetish by allowing me to kiss her bare feet during sex, knowing just how much it would turn me on and bring me closer to orgasm.
This all changed the day she bought a CB2000 chastity device for my cock. Unbeknownst to me, my wife, or should I say my Foot Mistress, purchased the chastity cage to ensure that it would be her who was getting the pleasure and benefit of my foot fetish, and not me. Up to that point I repeatedly and selfishly helped myself to ecstasy at the thought her feet, most often masturbating alone, deliriously dreaming of her sexy soles and toes, or there were the odd occasions when she would treat me to a wonderful orgasm as I fucked her hard and kissed her delectable soles.
It was Sunday night, Mistress called me into the bedroom, I came in to find her dressed in sexy black lace bra and shiny skin tight black latex leggings, she wore shiny black strappy high heels, her toenails were freshly painted red. I immediately noticed she had a new silver ankle bracelet adorning her right foot, dangling from it was a small key.
I immediately did as I was told.
“Take off your clothes”.
I stripped myself of all my clothes and knelt before her naked and vulnerable.
“You are going to be my foot slave, you will do what I say when I say. You will look at my feet only when I allow you to look at my feet, you will kiss my toes only when I allow you to kiss my toes, and you will worship and lick my bare soles when I allow you! Is that understood foot slave?”
“Yes Mistress, thank you Mistress.” I replied, the excitement clear in my voice
“I am not just your Mistress I am your Foot Mistress!!!”
“Yes Foot Mistress, sorry Foot Mistress.”
She sat on the bed, her foot slave kneeling obediently on the floor at her feet, I looked into her eyes, ensuring not to glance down at her red painted toes and high heels just inches from my hardened cock, I was now her foot slave and I awaited her permission to even merely be allowed to look at her feet. I was attentive to her every word, waiting to carry out any order she requested of me. I longed to prove myself as a good slave and hopefully she would allow me to pleasure myself at her feet. This didn’t happen.
Mistress produced a CB2000 from under the pillow and waved it right in front of my face. The gold padlock knocked off the hard plastic and made me swallow hard.
“Do you know what this is foot slave.” She said mockingly.
“Yes Foot Mistress, it’s a cock cage Foot Mistress”.
“That’s right foot slave it is a cock cage, and I’m going you be locking your little cock inside. I am going to control your orgasms from now on, I think you have been having far to much fun on your own, I know how much you like to masturbate, fantasizing about kissing and licking my feet all over. And just to ensure you don’t release yourself from chastity, I will be wearing the key to your cock on my ankle bracelet so from now on foot slave, you’ll only be allowed to cum to my feet when I say so.”
It was what I always wanted, to be a true foot slave, to dedicate my every thought and action to my Mistresses feet. But now the realism of what actually lay before me immediately set in, with the sight of this simple hardened plastic device with shiny gold lock dangling from my Mistresses finger. I was visibly nervous but yet deep inside I quivered with excitement, a contradiction of emotions, the first of many, this little device would lead to many more, most notably – frustration.
“Yes Foot Mistress, Thank you Foot Mistress, It would be an honor to wear it for you Foot Mistress”
“What a good little slave you are, I didn’t think there would be any resistance from you foot slave, although looking at that erect cock I think their maybe a little resistance to physically getting your hard cock into this little cage! What do you think foot slave, should Mistress be kind and allow her foot slave one last orgasm before he’s locked up and teased for who knows how long. Would you like to kneel before me to masturbate to my p-r-e-t-t-y f-e-e-t one last time foot slave?”
“Oh yes Mistress, please Foot Mistress may I please, I beg you, please allow me to cum to your beautiful feet.”
Taking in my humility she looked down at her pathetic naked slave, kneeling inches from her feet, cock standing to full attention, eyes wide with anticipation. She continued to stare at me, only drawing out my anxiety, was she going to allow me to pleasure myself, the one thing I craved so much that was completely in her control. She raised her foot and gently brushed her red toes under my swollen balls.
“You may touch yourself to my feet, Slave”
“Oh thank you Foot Mistress”
Without hesitation I grabbed my cock and began to frantically pull myself, I glanced up at my Mistress, reciprocating a harsh dominating expression I then set my wide eyes down to her beautiful red toenails, lying longingly before me in her sexy black high heels. I knew it wouldn’t take long for me to cum. I was so overly excited, I knew this was going to be my last orgasm for some time, and I counted myself lucky to be given the privilege of cumming one final time to such a delectable pair for feet.
I could feel my self getting closer and closer, my gripping hand getting faster and faster, my eyes fixated on her ten red toes. I could feel the cum imminently going to leave my testicles.
“STOP! That’s quite enough foot slave. I’ve changed my mind, now take your hand off that throbbing little cock, and place your hands behind your back. I know you had hoped to cum all over my feet but Mistress has other ideas for you slave, it’s not about your pleasure, its all about mine.”
Mistress stepped off her throne and moved slowly and stealthy behind me, running her finger nail across my chest as she circled me, she stood directly behind me and I then grabbing my arms she snapped cold metal handcuffs on my wrists.
“I don’t want any problems from you slave when I am fitting or removing your device, so as to be sure you don’t even accidentally brush your hands against your unlocked cock, you will be wearing these handcuffs every time Mistress decides to put your cock lock on or on the rare occasion I decide to take it off.
It took a few minutes for my aroused cock to lower itself and then from behind my Mistress began to slip the plastic ring around my swollen balls and then squeezed my tormented flaccid cock inside the plastic tube, then looping the lock through the hardened plastic she clicked it into place. That was it, I belonged to her.
“Now slave it’s going to be a long time before I allow you out of your cock cage, in order for me to even contemplate release I will expect you to be the perfect slave, or should I say the perfect foot slave. I will expect foot servitude of the highest order, beginning tonight and every night from now on you will kneel at the foot of my bed, naked except for your little cock lock, and while kneeling down there you will massage my feet until I fall asleep.
“Oh thank you so much Foot Mistress, it would be an honor to massage your feet Mistress”.
Mistress retired to bed, I did as I was told and took residency at her bare feet. They dangled just over the end of the bed inches from my face, my mouth, my tongue. I knew I could not ever grace her bare soles with my mouth without her permission, I had to prove I was the perfect slave. Naked, with my pulsing cock engorged in my cage, I gently massaged scented cream into her soles and toes. Foot Mistress fell asleep not long after I had begun but I continued on for two hours, enjoying the ultimate objects of my desire and the strong sense of humility. I only stopped to get some sleep myself as I knew tomorrow would be another “demanding” day.
Mistress awoke first and after maneuvering herself up off her pillow she sat on the side of the bed, her long legs stretching to the floor. Snapping her fingers she instructed me to kneel at her feet.
“Good morning slave, I hope you are ready for day two as my devoted foot slave – how is that little locked cock of yours doing?”
“Good morning Foot Mistress, my cock is aching for you Mistress it longs to be free from its cage.”
“Oh it aches does it foot slave? Well lucky you because Mistress has decided that every day from now on you will be permitted a foot teasing session, and just to ensure you are completely aroused Mistress is going to allow you to be free from your cage, but there is one catch foot slave, while your free from your cage, you won’t be allowed touch your cock.”
I could not believe what she was saying, as if I hadn’t been teased enough already, even after only one day, knowing that I would have daily foot teasing sessions which would drive me wild with desire and yet be sexually unfulfilled at the end of it, it was mind blowing.
“Now foot slave I am going to go about my daily duties around the house and as my footboy you will accompany me, you will follow me around the house naked and on your knees behind me, you will lick my bare soles as I raise them up with each step, and you will ensure my soles are kept spotlessly clean at all times, oh and just to ensure you don’t lag behind you’ll be wearing this slave collar and leash.”
Mistress bent down and strapped the black leather collar with the silver lettered inscription reading “FOOT SLAVE” around my neck, then she attached the long black leash. Standing up she tugged on the leash to ensure I followed her, after each step she offered up her luscious sole to my face, my extended tongue lapped the entire length of her foot each time, humiliated, used and degraded I was truly a prisoner to her feet. My knees ached from crawling and my tongue was dusty and dry, but it was late that evening before Mistress had made her way back into the bedroom.
Mistress sat on the bed, I knelt at her feet. She unhooked my leash but left my slave collar around my neck, I had a feeling this was going to be a permanent part of my wardrobe. Mistress lifted her right foot from the floor and placed it on the edge of the mattress, wiggling red toes directly at me she began to unclasp the silver ankle bracelet and started to dangle it before my eyes.
“Now foot slave Mistress enjoyed you lapping at her soles so as a reward you will now have you foot tease session, I know you’ve been waiting for me to release that little cock of yours.”
With that she stooped down and began to fondle my balls, with my cock still locked up, then after a few minutes she finally put the key in the lock and released me. My aching cock and swollen balls felt so good to be out, but I knew whatever freedom I had would be short lived and that the feeling of frustration and restraint would soon be returning to my hardened cock.
My first foot tease session began with Foot Mistress having me kneel on the floor, with my cock as hard as it could be, she guided me with her eyes down towards her sexy red toes, letting me know that I had permission to look at her bare feet. She then stood up and began to slowly walk around me, grabbing my hair pushing my head down to look at her feet as she sexily extenuated them with each step, slowly planting her toes before her pathetic foot slave and then raising up her perfect arch as she circled my naked body.
She stood behind me, with one foot placed on either side of my knees, she knew I was having a visual treat with her red teasing toes before me, she let go of her grip on my hair and then slowly brought her hand down my chest, rubbing over my bare flesh until she reached my groin, she bypassed my harden cock and began to fondle my aching balls, grabbing them and then tickling them with her finger tips, after a few minutes of this my mind was racing, I was so aroused by her feet, I knew it would take only a few strokes of my rock hard cock and I would explode all over the floor. My Foot Mistress was also well aware that it would only take her slave a few strokes so when she did take finally take hold of my rigid cock she made sure it got just enough to keep me on the very edge, she wasn’t going to allow her foot slave to come – the week of foot slavery had only begun.
“That’s enough fun for you foot slave, I hope you enjoyed your little foot tease!! Now I don’t want any begging or pleading but now we have to lock up that little cock of yours, we don’t want any accidents, I know how little it would take for you to come, with all those images of my pretty bare feet running around that little head of yours.”
With that, being bent over with frustration, I looked longingly at my Mistress but knew my fate, it took a few minutes before my cock reached a lifeless limp state that Mistress could squeeze the cage back into place, clasping the lock shut for another period of detention and denial. With that Mistress retired to bed.
The next day, day 3, Mistress decided that she wanted to go into town shopping, she dressed herself but then called on me in to kiss her feet, just once on each big toe and then place her shoes on her feet as any foot slave should. She said that although she did not want me to accompany her she had left a special treat for me. With that she produced two black leather wrist cuffs and attached them to my arms and then clasped them to my slave collar, thus limiting any reach I had to just above my waist.
“I have to ensure my slave doesn’t misbehave while I’m out so these cuffs and collar should keep you in line until I return, Oh yes I almost forgot your little treat is waiting for you on the computer! See you in a few hours foot slave!”
Kneeling by the door, naked, I watched my Mistress go, thinking what kind of treat awaited me on the PC. I knew she had blocked my access to the internet to ensure I didn’t surf porn sites looking at other women’s feet, I was a slave to her feet and her feet only. I shuffled on my knees into the computer room and noticed the screensaver bouncing around, when I moved the mouse a large picture of my Mistresses bare feet greeted me, she had left me in the house alone all day, with my hands bound and useless, with my cock caged and throbbing and with a huge folder of pictures of her beautiful feet. I went through the photos one by one, slowly savoring each one, when Mistress did return later that evening she was assured that I had been utterly teased even in her absence.
Later that night while getting in to bed, Mistress summoned me.
“Foot slave since I was so gone for so long today and you only got to look at pictures of my feet, I am going to treat you tonight and allow you to kneel at the end of my bed and stare at my feet – all night long. No touching, no kissing, and no licking!! Now get down there, I want to feel your breath on my soles all night long!!”
“Thank you Foot Mistress I would be honored.”
It was a long long night.
Day 4, after greeting Mistresses feet with a kiss on each of her ten toes as she got out of bed, she attached the leash to my collar and had me follow her down to the basement, when I got down there, I noticed a large rectangular object in the middle of the floor, covered over entirely by a black silk sheet.
“I picked up a little something for you when I was out yesterday, and I think you are going to like it Foot Slave”
With that she pulled off the sheet to reveal a black metal cage, with black leather padding on top for Mistress to sit on while her submissive was enslaved inside, but worst of all there was a small hole in the centre of the padding, just large enough to allow Mistress to slip her foot into the cage from above. Mistress opened the small access gate to the cage and motioned me to shuffle inside, kicking my behind as I did. Then she slid the bolt hard into position and a padlock snapped it shut.
I was on my knees, helplessly locked inside, Mistress sat up on the side of the cage dangling her feet inches from my face, her bare feet swinging back and forth, giving me a glimpse of her soft soles with each fluid movement. She knew she was teasing me, she knew the sight of her feet, her unattainable feet, had my encased cock pulsing. After some time she moved her legs up on to the top of the steel cage. Cramped and uncomfortable, I awkwardly changed position so that I could see the centre hole above me and waited.
“Are you waiting for something slave?”
“Yes Mistress your feet Mistress, you beautiful bare feet Mistress.”
With that five toes peeped just over the edge of the hole.
“These feet, foot slave?”
“Oh yes Mistress, please Foot Mistress I beg you.”
“Very well slave, I am going to allow you to kiss the soles of my feet, would you like to kiss the soles of my feet slave? I think you would!”
With that she leisurely moved her foot down and found my face. I repeatedly kissed her sensuous soles, changing feet every so often as she directed as to which toe she wanted worshipped or which exact spot of her sole my lips should be caressing. It continued long into the evening, my neck strained from the confined position, my cock strained from the confined cock cage.
After continuously kissing the soles of my Mistresses feet for hours on end, Mistress informed me that she was going to bed and instructed me that I would sleep, or uncomfortably try to sleep, in the cage for the entire night. She informed me that this was to allow me time alone to think about how lucky I was to have been given the chance to kiss her bare feet. With that she stuck her right foot through the bars of my cage, the silver chastity key dangling from her ankle.
“Kiss my foot good night slave, once on each of my toes.”
I graciously kissed each of her perfectly pedicured toes, and then instantly she drew her foot away. Picking up the black silk sheet from the floor, she threw it over the cage, covering it completely, leaving me chastised in total darkness.
“Sweet feet dreams foot slave”
She giggled to herself as I heard her bare feet padding up the stairs and leaving me all alone and heavily frustrated.
The next morning was my fifth day to wake with my cock cage, I was beginning to be in a state of permanent arousal, constantly horny but unable for an erection, and when my cock did strain against the hardened plastic my every thought brought me back to the fact that my Mistress controlled my cock, or as she referred to me as her “foot slave”, her feet controlled my cock and infringed on my every thought.
I knelt in my cage for sometime after a terribly uncomfortable nights sleep in the cramped space. I heard Mistress come down the stairs and walk over towards the cage but then silence, I could sense her inches away from me, but I could not see her with the black sheet obstructing my view. Almost an hour passed and all I could hear was the faint sound of her breathing to confirm to me that she was in the room. This was just another tease, designed to make me horny with anticipation, and it worked a treat.
Then without warning five cherry red toes slid under the bottom of the sheet, raising the sheet slowly until her foot was in my cage, inches from my wanton tongue.
“Foot slave, have you been waiting to see my feet all night , I bet you couldn’t wait to see them could you?” She said as she seductively wiggled her toes.
Like I always seem to do…..I had put my mind into overtime by going online and reading some stories about my favorite femdom activities. I guess this is all a part of the torture of that fetish that I love, just because I get all worked up does not mean that my lovely wife mistress Landy is also in the mood to play my games. This usually results in days of buildup and torture while I think about it constantly.
I did let Landy know that I had been online and she spent some time talking with me about how she enjoys the buildup too because she knows it is torture for me. I reminded her that during our last session she had really found an interesting technique to play into my forced cum eating desires. Like most guys once I have a great orgasm I loose all desire to continue playing. I have always told Landy to not let me get out of it and she does a great job at following through even against my protests. Last time while she had me all worked up and had been teasing me for some time she was slowly pumping my cock while talking about making me swallow my own cum. Knowing I was very close to cumming I begged her to give me a break and let go. At the same time I felt some of my cum begin to flow and start pouring from my cock. This was not lost on Landy and as she noticed and decided she was not ready for me to cum she tightly squeezed my cock effectively stopping my orgasm. By gripping tightly and just barely moving she was able to squeeze some of my cum out without giving me the satisfaction of cumming. This was a big hit with her as she was able to scoop up my cum and feed it to me while I was still worked up and willing to lick it from her fingers. Had she kept doing this I would have had to swallow my whole load without ever getting off, being left to remain worked up and to suffer the torture for days to come. Luckily for me she pumped me for all she was worth and gave me an explosive orgasm.
While we were discussing my current state of arousal Landy brought up the subject of freezing my cum for later use in our games. This came from a story I had read where a girl spent a whole week milking loads of cum from him every night to make him a nice big cum popsicle. With this in her mind I knew I might be in for an interesting week.
As I suspected, on Sunday Landy explained to me she had decided to play the frozen cum game. She said that one way or another one of us was going to collect a load of cum from me every day for this week. She knew that some nights she may be tired after work so she told me I was going to be expected to help in this recovery plan. Being that this was the first night and she new I was already worked up and had a very big load waiting she did not want to waste any so she decided to collect the first one herself. She was not going to make it a big adventure for me either. I was instructed to pull my cock out and lay back on the bed. She brought out a small plastic storage container and started jacking my cock. Just her talk of collecting my cum for future use had me on the edge in about a minute. Landy was ready and was very good at placing the container just right to collect the blasts of cum from my cock. She then handed me the container and told me to take my disgusting filth and find a place in the freezer where it could be safely stored and not found. The adventure had begun.
On Monday as soon as I got home, even before dinner, Landy told me to go into the bedroom and collect the next load of my cum in the container she had placed on my nightstand. She instructed me to make sure I caught it all and then to add what I collected to the other container in the freezer. This was more humiliating than I had imagined it would be, but I complied with the command. Tuesday I was treated to another quick handjob while listening to Landy tell me how much she was looking forward to feeding me all of this frozen cum we were collecting. Again I was told to add the collection to the container in the freezer. Wednesday I was again left to take care of the cum collection myself. Thursday morning after I got out of the shower and as I was getting ready for work Landy got up and told me to get on the bed before I put my pants on. I was rewarded with a very nice blowjob. A great way to start the day. Of course she was ready with her container and as I began to explode she made sure to catch every drop to add to our frozen cum loads. Before we went to bed Thursday night Landy told me she wanted to watch me collect one last load for the container. That was embarrassing in itself as I was not used to being watched. But it did not take too long as I had noticed she said last load……and that brought the thought of eating all of the cum.
All week Landy had been tormenting me and emailing me about all of the cum I was going to be swallowing. Friday she ramped that up and kept me on edge all day. When she went home she told me she was going to take a nap and that she wanted me to come home and spend some time reading stories about cum eating to get me even more worked up. She also told me to take our frozen cum and use a knife to cut it into several smaller pieces and place it in two containers as she had many uses for it tonight….with each use ending up in my mouth.
When Landy woke up from her nap she called me and told me to bring one container of my frozen cum into the bedroom. Of course I was extremely worked up and hard as a rock. Landy ordered me to give her the container, strip and to sit on the bed. She told me to take a small piece of the frozen cum and place it into my mouth without chewing or swallowing. This was very humiliating. Here I was actively taking my own cum and placing it in my mouth. She told me she wanted me to let her know when it had melted and that I better not swallow it yet. It only took a couple of minutes but it felt like a long time. She was laughing at me and making fun of me for being such a cum slut that I would actually go through with this. As the cum melted the taste became very overpowering in my mouth. Once I let her know it was melted she told me to stick out my tongue and show her, which I did. Finally she told me to swallow what would be my first of many loads.
Next she told me to take another chunk of cum and to place it on her toes. She knows how much I love feet and toes. She told me to rub the frozen cum along her toes until it started to melt. After a couple of minutes she had me take her cum coated toes and the rest of the melting chunk of cum and place them into my mouth. She told me not to stop licking her toes until all of that cum had melted and I had cleaned it all up. I was certainly getting the full effect of swallowing cum and without the post-orgasm blues. It was actually very exciting……and humiliating at the same time.
Landy had me take the last piece of frozen cum from the first container and place it on her nipple. She told me to put my mouth over the cum and to not take it up until the cum was melted and I had sucked it all up. This was driving me crazy and I loved it. As we had collected six loads of my cum that week I had already swallowed three loads of cum.
Landy told me to go in and get the other container of frozen cum. When I got back she told me to get on the bed and fasten my hands to the ties on the bed. Now that I was secured she told me it was time to swallow the rest of the cum. She had really enjoyed having me melt the cum in my mouth and decided to repeat that with another large chunk of cum. This time she was also slowly pumping my cock which was producing copious amounts of pre-cum that she added to the load melting in my mouth. The whole time she continued berating me for being such a cum slut.
Landy knew I was close to cumming. She took the rest of the frozen cum and told me it was time to melt the biggest load yet and made me take all of it in my mouth. This was more than I had either of the other times and I already had the strong taste of cum from before. As it melted and I fought to keep from swallowing it Landy was pumping me and getting me very close to cumming. She knew it too. Once she was pretty sure it was just about all melted she explained that she was going to slowly milk a fresh load for me to add to the delight in my mouth. She said she loved that method she had found last time and that this time she was going to slowly drain my cum out without letting me orgasm and she would feed me the whole fresh load. This was extremely humiliating and torturous. I had two loads of melted cum in my mouth and she was about to add a third. I felt my cum leaking from my cock. True to her word she did not speed up and did not let up on her grip. As she scooped up my flowing cum and feed it to me I knew I was destined to end the night as her cum eating slut and without the sweet release of an explosive orgasm. I was in heaven.
It was a mid summer night dream or so I thought. Actually it was closer to the Autumnal equinox and I was feeling pretty low. I had fallen in love with the right girl, only it was the wrong time. Apparently too much too little too late, and in trying to get her back I only succeeded in pushing her further away. So I did what any guy in my position would do… I went out to get drunk.
I went to a local dive bar to drown my heart in continuous twelve-ounce drafts. As the night went on I began to like I was being watched. The bar was crowded so I just chalked it up to inebriated paranoia, until I caught a glimpse of a familiar calf peeking out from a corner table. I followed the calf up to a thigh topped by a very short skirt. I watched closely as the owner of the gorgeous limbs crossed her legs slowly. I had to blink. Was she not wearing underwear? I looked around to see if any one else saw, or if it was just me. I tried to turn away, but a force greater than my own will compelled me. Lust.
It was “her” alright. She was wearing an all too familiar black skirt and red top. She wasn’t looking my way but I knew she knew I was here. I tried to turn away, but I kept finding myself looking in her direction. She turned to face me and leaned over to scratch her ankle. I caught a glimpse of her breast. They weren’t large. She wasn’t even what you would consider ample, B-cup at best, but they were perfect. with Large nipples. Pierced.
A sparkle reflected off of the surgical steel of one of the rings. I lost concentration. I shifted in my seat. A familiar stirring in my crotch was making it hard for me to sit still. I finally looked up to her eyes. She was looking right at me. My heart skipped. I smiled. She didn’t. She just stared. My smile slowly left my face. Her stare was deep. Controlling. I felt as if I was enveloped by her power. She lowered her gaze… I followed. I couldn’t help myself. I found myself staring at her feet. Freshly manicured.
She had me and she knew it. Each move she made was like the stroke of an artist paintbrush. I was lost in her. She slowly stood, no, she wasn’t wearing underwear. My throat dried I began to tremble. She walked to the far end of the room and stopped at a dark empty booth, tucked onto the corner. She turned and looked over her shoulder. How did she know I was watching? Her expression never changed, but I knew she wanted me to come over. I cautiously walked over to her. She watched as I approached. I attempted to sit.
“No.” She said, “On the floor, at my feet. That is where you belong.”
I tried half heartedly to protest and sit on the bench. She immediately went cold and turned her back to me.
“If I want to talk, you have to sit where you belonged.”
Reluctantly I sat on the floor, she commanded I move closer.
‘Under the table.”
I moved to where she stated. The waitress came over. All I could see were her legs from the knees down. I couldn’t make out the conversation. I assumed it was a drink order, until I heard the laughter .
The waitress walked away and I sat on the cold tile floor wondering what was happening, what was she up too, why was I obeying? I smelled tobacco; she lit a cigarette and shifted in her seat. Once more, the sight of her bare crotch teased me. She had shaved smooth. Something I had asked her to do many times. Was this for me or in spite of me? I didn’t know or care. She had the most beautiful pussy, and hairless it just made me want to lick.
She deliberately removed a shoe and placed her bare foot on my shoulder. She leaned down just enough for me to hear her.
“You’re not worthy of the seat next to me.” She told me. “You should be grateful that I am even talking to you, no less allowing you to be at my feet.”
Then without warning she stuck her foot in my face. I knew what she wanted and I wanted to give it to her.
“Thank the Goddess above that you are allowed to worship her foot.”
Before I could speak, she placed her foot in my mouth. I was a little humiliated at first. Could I be seen? I was overtaken by her power once more. The rest of the bar seemed to disappear as I made oral love to each digit. Moving my tongue in, out and around each toe. Her scent and soft moan told me I was doing okay. I suckled first one toe then another and another. I dragged my tongue down her sole and nibbled her heal and moved up to take her foot again in my mouth. She slightly spread her legs and began to stroke her self. Then with her other foot she kicked me away.
I barely had time to think when she grabbed me by the hair and pulled me into her thighs clamping them on each side of my head, just inches away from her pussy. I could hardly hear anything but there I was face to face with her precious glory. She slid her finger along the length of her pussy. Her lips parted at her touch. She slipped her finger in just enough to get her moisture on the tip. She then wiped it under my nose and across my lips, pushing it into my mouth. I sucked it clean as she drew it from my lips. She yanked me by the hair, drawing me closer in between her legs.
“Please me you dog” She said.
I didn’t need to be asked twice.
I slid my tongue between the folds of her outer lips. Her scent filled my head like opium. My tongue moved probing for her swollen clitoris. Once I found the protruding treasure I sucked it between my teeth. I was determined to please her. She squirmed slightly in her seat. I pushed my tongue deep inside her. She bucked. My own excitement was building in my pants. I couldn’t remember ever feeling like that. She had me at her whim. Her pleasure became my world. My face was drenched in her nectar.
I buried my tongue deep inside. Sucking harder on her clitoris. She squeezed my head between her thighs. I moved my tongue in, out and around, flicking, licking and sucking her glory. I had to make her cum. She wouldn’t have it any other way. I felt like she was resisting, prolonging her own pleasure, punishing me by making me work harder. The sweet agony was almost more than I could bear.
My hard cock was pushing against my pants. She shuddered; my jaw was getting tired, so I stated sucking on her swollen clit. It seemed to be twice as big now. My face was completely drenched. She moved her foot between my legs and started to rub my crotch. This brought a whole new life to my efforts. The harder and faster she rubbed, the deeper I pushed my tongue, the harder I sucked her clit. I couldn’t take any more and moaned inside her wet pussy and came in my pants, on the floor under the table with my face bury deep between her legs. She pulled me in deep, clamped tight on my head with her thighs and cameShe held me there for what seemed an eternity, filling my mouth, before letting me go.
She pushed me on my ass and told me to go.
I stood up slowly wondering if anyone had seen the heaven I just endured… I knew it was written all over my face. The dark spot on my jeans was the exclamation point.
The waitress returned with a shot and told me what a good boy I was. She smiled at me with approval as she patted my wet crotch. I took the shot. Then she pushed me towards the door telling me I had to leave. I was so dazed I just did as I was told, no questions asked. At the door she handed me a note with an address and told me that is where I’d better go.
I got in my car and drove to the address on the paper… not knowing what to expect when I got there.
As my family sat at the breakfast table, I took quick, sneaky little peeks at the latest edition of ‘Snatch!’ Girly magazine, that my twenty-three-year-old, older brother (by 2 years), Gary, was reading – even more sneakily, hidden from view from Mum and Dad, as it was, behind the open pages of the Daily Telegraph newspaper.
More intent, was I, upon what the next glossy page of Gary’s favourite periodical would reveal, that I had only been half-listening to what Dad, who sat opposite me, had been saying. Still, I could tell from his angry tone, that Dad was ‘going off on one’… As usual.
When Gary next turned the page of ‘Snatch!’ magazine, I was once again disappointed; that the full-page, full-colour picture, showed nothing below the knees of the beautiful nude model – or, to be more exact: no feet… Obviously – as could be readily gleaned from the title of the magazine – ‘Snatch!’ Magazine, focused their attentions in a different area of their girls’ alluring ‘attributes’. So… I may have been disappointed, but I shouldn’t have been surprised…
I listened more attentively, to Dad’s despairing tones; which were becoming a more and more familiar lament, these days, due to the on-going Banking Crisis. As I listened to him, Dad read his mail and, he bitterly bemoaned to us, his latest and on-going difficulties, in securing a Small Business Loan from his Bank – the ‘Northern and General’ – at a fair and reasonable, and affordable rate of interest.
Dad was sounding like a stuck record, these days, I had thought at the time, rather unkindly. Certainly, with a lack of sympathy and understanding; and, not least, with a lack of appreciation, that it was, after all, my Dad who was keeping a roof over my carefree and ungrateful head.
I suppose, that I am like many young people of my own age (21): still living at home with Mum and Dad; Mum doing my washing, cooking my meals – even still cleaning my room. And, because Mum and Dad are reasonably well off, due to Dad’s modestly successful Small Business, they ask for a rediculously small sum from Gary and I, for our weekly keep.
But, to listen to Dad’s voice of doom and gloom, perhaps Gary and I might be in for a rude shock… If affordable credit availability didn’t improve soon, to keep Dad’s Small Business up and running, Gary and I might suddenly find ourselves having to cough up more for our keep – and, with a lot less spending money in our pockets!
Dad was ranting and raving, angrily, in his by now, all too familiar refrain. Dad waved his latest letter from the Northern and General Bank, at us, over the breakfast table. “The Manager of the N&G – Miss Harding – has knocked me back again! Surprise, surprise! She’s refused me a Small Business Loan: that is to say, that Miss Harding won’t give me one at a reasonable rate of interest, that I can afford to repay… I’m sure, that that woman is enjoying choking the life out of my Business! – no, I mean it! She has that look, about her… “It is absolutely vital, that I secure a Small Business Loan soon, if I am to have any hope – any hope at all – of keeping my Business going… and, of keeping a roof over all of our heads, too, come to that,” Dad informed us all, for the umpteenth time.
I also, had received a decidedly peremptory, unpleasant-sounding letter that morning – that Dad had read earlier and, that had only served to pour petrol onto his blazing anger – from Miss Harding (“That woman!,”) the Manager of the Northern and General Bank. Miss Harding had made an appointment for me to see her: this morning, at 11 a.m.
Miss Harding, had not (to Dad’s great annoyance) asked me to phone her; in the event that this was not a convenient time, or that I might have trouble in arranging time off from work, at such short ‘notice’ – no, she had simply and summarily instructed me to be there. At the N&G, at 11 a.m. To “appear”, before her… as if she was some sort of a Judge… as if, she was going to… ‘sentence’ me…
Miss Harding’s decidedly brusquely worded, no-nonsense, straight-to-the-point, letter (or rather, summons), was concerning my late, monthly repayment of my Personal Loan from the N&G. The loan (repayable over 3 years, and subject to the N&G’s Terms and Conditions Policy), that I had taken out with them to buy my first car – an old, beat-up, second-time-around-the-clock, cheating-the-scrapman, 10 year old hatchback – at a fair and reasonable, affordable rate of interest. Just before the Banking fiasco erupted over all of our heads. When it was still possibe, to find yourself a cheap Bank Loan. Things are different, now… Very different – you only had to listen to Dad!
Despite what Dad had said to me, after he’d read Miss Harding’s ‘red’ letter (“Prepare yourself, for a bit of a dressing-down, David. For a ‘meeting without coffee’,”) I wasn’t overly concerned, though. I mean, after all, it was just a temporary cash flow problem that I had – everyone gets them, right? I was just a bit short of money this month, that’s all, due to a problem that I’d had with my car, and that had needed the Garage to fix it.
As I saw it, I’d had no choice, in giving priority to spending what money I had, on getting my car repaired – as opposed, that is, to meeting this month’s Personal Loan repayment to the N & G. After all, I needed my car to get to work, didn’t I? No car = no work = no money = no Personal Loan repayment to the N&G… Surely, Miss Harding would sympathise, and appreciate my unfortunate dilemma… wouldn’t she? And, after all, I would simply make up the deficit, when I paid next month’s Personal Loan repayment. Surely, Miss Harding would be understanding – and flexible… wouldn’t she?
But, as I listened to Dad, I started to grow more and more uneasy, and less and less complacent, about my own situation with the N&G. I began to take a bit more seriously, Dad’s earlier warning – to expect “A ‘meeting without coffee’.”
As I sneaked quick peeks at Gary’s Girly mag, each time he turned to the next page, more often than not, just a single, brief glimpse was all that I needed – still no feet – before returning my full attention to what Dad was saying, in his increasingly despairing, but angry and forthright tones.
Don’t get me wrong! It was not, that I was not interested in the often very beautiful and glamourous, very sexy, nude models’ other alluring ‘attributes’ – of course I was! It was just that I was waiting, for the pictures that showed the feet of the posing models – preferably, bare feet, but I would have been OK, too, with socks or hose – I’m easy to please! THOSE, were the sort of pictures that I was interested in, and wanted to see… But, alas, ‘Snatch!’ Magazine – like many other ‘Tits & Pussy’ mags – hardly ever seemed to show their models’ feet.
But, whenever Gary turned a page, that actually did reveal just such a picture, I had to hide my feelings. For, the symtoms of my sudden excitement might easily give me away – a flushed face! – as my pulse quickened. I needed to keep a tight reign on my emotions – Gary might stumble upon the discovery, that I had a foot fetish.
It would be just like Gary, I knew, to gleefully blab my secret to anyone and everyone. To all-but shout my ultra-embarrassing (should it be found out!) secret from the rooftops – even blurt it out to Mum and Dad… Especially, to Mum and Dad! I knew, that finding out that I had a foot fetish, would just be a huge joke, to Gary.
I was 21 years old. By now, I was trying to come to terms with, and still trying to understand my amazingly strong feelings for female feet, only half-heartedly. After all, by now I knew perfectly well, what I was – a foot fetishist – pure and simple (OK, may be not ‘pure’, exactly!)… I was quite reconciled to it. In fact, far from being simply reconciled, to my foot fetish, the last thing that I wanted, was to be ‘cured’, of it. I loved it. I no longer cared, about ‘why’ I had a foot fetish – I just wanted to be able to enjoy it. Bring it on!
The thrilling, sexually arousing, fantasies, that female feet evoked in me and, that I was continually having – day and night – about them were, I realized, taking over my life more and more… As I spent more and more of my time, looking at them, thinking about them, and fantasizing about them.
I also realized, that I was becoming one-track-minded, about female feet: I had to admit to myself, that I had no control, over this thing… That, female feet, were becoming my all-consuming passion… That, there was getting less and less room in my head, for anything else.
Female feet, drove me crazy â€” but, in a good way. Oh, yes, in a good way! But, day-by-day, it seemed to me, my desire and my need – yes, my actual ‘need’ – for female feet, was growing… Growing, inexorably. Growing, day-by-day; a little stronger, a little more urgent – a little more desperate. Growing, into a fully-fledged, ravenous craving: and, it was a craving – that was a craving like no other.
In fact, in my fantasies; in the increasingly powerful scenarios, that I was dreaming-up, I craved, to be… humbled – humiliated – at female feet. This was something, that was capturing my imagination, more and more. There was just… ‘something’, about the ‘concept’… Such an experience, I was sure (I just knew!), would be the Ultimate! Would be my ‘Dream Come True’. Would be my ‘Humiliation Heaven’.
But, I was fearful – scared witless – of discovery… Forget, about my ‘Humiliation Heaven’. Forget, about my ‘Dream Come True’… Just the idea – just the very idea! – of asking a girl, to let me sniff her feet, to let me kiss her feet… to let me do to her feet, what I longed and needed (yes, ‘needed’!) to do to them: to pamper them, to respect them, to revere them, to kiss them (oh, yes, to kiss them!), to adore them, to worship them. But, to actually ask a girl, let me do all of these things… to satisfy a craving – a craving, that was a craving like no other… was out of the question! I could never bring myself to do it!
No way, did I have the guts, the bottle, to ask a girl, to let me… ‘have my way’, with her feet. Not even, if we had been dating for a while. Not even, if we had… well, you know… Hell, I couldn’t even bring myself to offer a foot massage!
Why? I was way too scared. Scared, of ‘consequences’. Scared, that the young lady in question, might be so disgusted, or so â€˜weirded out’, by such an outlandish – ‘freakish’ – proposal, that she might actually denounce me. Scared, that she might tell all-and-sundry, of my ‘perversion’. Scared, that my sweetheart-of the-moment might put her knowledge – her juicy, gossip-worthy knowledge – of my ‘freakish’ and ‘perverted’ foot fetish, out there… Out there – in the Public Domain. ‘Dumpsville’, would be the least of my problems…
Don’t get me wrong! I want to ‘please’ my girl, too – of course I do! It’s just that, with me, it always comes back to the same thing…
I was in despair! Would I ever, get to see some female feet ‘action’? Would I ever, get to sniff them, to kiss them, to adore them, to worship them? Would I ever, get to satisfy my craving – a craving, that was a craving like no other? – would I? Would I?… Ever?
When Gary next turned the page of this month’s edition of ‘Snatch!’ magazine, and I was once more disappointed, that there was nothing to see of the gorgeous and glamourous nude model, below her knees, I scooped up another spoonful of cornflakes and, I concentrated more fully, on what Dad was saying to Mum, who sat beside him, and opposite Gary. “Small Businesses like ours, Anne, are going under, EVERY DAY!,” observed Dad, emphasizing his key words, as was his way, when speaking – or, ‘holding forth’ – as he was now…
“The Bank used to THROW money at me. When it suited THEM. And when I didn’t NEED it,” continued Dad, in similar vein. “But NOW, though, I can’t get a PENNY out of the N&G – except at exorbitant interest!”
Mum regarded Dad over the rim of her teacup, as she took sips from her hot tea. She didn’t reply, though: she’d heard it all before… we’d all, heard it all before – a hundred times…
“We taxpayers, Anne – WE – bailed THEM out, to save THEM from going under, through their own appalling mismanagement, and their sheer GREED,” asserted Dad, vehemently.
Dad was getting revved-up, spinning his wheels – burning rubber – as usual, on this vexed question, and was shifting into higher gear, now. “NOW, though, they won’t lend US any of the money, that WE, lent to THEM, when we bailed THEM out, to stop US, from going under!… Unless, as I say, it is at exorbitant interest!”
Now, in warming to his pet theme, Dad was starting to get red in the face… overheating… he needed to let off a bit more steam – before he blew a gasket! “THEY, have got their Bank Bonuses, and WE, have got the RECESSION!,” Dad complained bitterly.
Dad took a quick slurp of his tea, before resuming… “The Banks have grown too BIG, Anne, THAT’S the TROUBLE! “Did you know, Anne, that some of our Banks actually have a bigger turnover, than the British Economy, itself? Eh? Did you know that, love?” “You might have mentioned it before, love, now that you—” “But, worse than that, Anne,” interrupted Dad, as if Mum hadn’t spoken, “far worse, is that the Banks have grown too powerful… They have been allowed to grow too big for their own boots, and the Government hasn’t got the GUTS, too cut them back down to size! I am telling you, Anne, and I am not joking! Just take a look around you! The Banks, Anne, have got us by the â€˜proverbials’, if you will pardon my French. And, you mark my words: there is just no telling, how hard they are going to squeeze!”
Dad took a short ‘pit-stop’: he sighed despondently, sadly, as though wondering at a world gone mad; as though wistful, for times past… better times.
“The Banks used to be a PROPER service! They used to be polite and respectful, towards their customers; always ready, and happy to help – nothing, was ever too much trouble. “But, they are a new breed, these days. These days, their attitude STINKS! From top, to bottom, they are haughty and arrogant. And they are getting worse, all the time! “The Banks, Anne, I have noticed – and, Miss Harding is a prime example – are becoming even MORE disdainful and contemptuous, of their customers. And there is just no telling, where it will all end. Except in tears – which is pretty damn obvious! “The Banks, these days, seem to have no limits; moral or otherwise, to the hardships and misery that they seem to take great delight in inflicting upon their customers – believe me, I know! If you ask me, Anne, there is NOTHING – NOTHING – that they won’t stoop to… “And, like I say, Anne, I can’t get a Small Business Loan out of Miss Harding, at the N&G, except at exorbitant interest.”
That was at least the third time, that I had heard Dad mention the term â€˜exorbitant interest’. My curiosity was piqued – not least, because of my own, imminent appointment to see Miss Harding, the Manager of the N&G, that morning at 11 a.m. I asked him, “Dad, what do you mean, by exorbitant interest?”
Misunderstanding me, Dad – not realizing, that I was asking him what the actual rate, of interest was, that Miss Harding at the N&G was demanding of him, for a new, or top-up, Small Business Loan – replied, “Exorbitant interest, David, means far too much, and far in excess, and far beyond, what is reasonable, and what would be considered normal, by most people, son.”
Before I could explain to Dad, that he had misunderstood me, he was talking to Mum again – resuming his pet theme, in his plaintive and despairing tones – and so I didn’t want to interrupt them (him!). Anyway, it was time to say my goodbyes, and head into Town – after all, I had an appointment to keep… With Miss Harding, Manager of the Northern and General Bank.
Upon arriving in Town, I thought that I might as well while away the time – before my 11 a.m. appointment at the N&G – browsing, in the Music Shops. Sometimes, if I got lucky, I might see a girl ease her heel out of her shoe; or even, if I got REALLY lucky (I’m easy to please!), she might actually slip her foot out of her shoe (going ‘all the way’!, as I thought of it), and then, absent-mindedly – carelessly – as though she was in a world of her own, play with her shoe, as she looked through the records and CD’s.
The last time I was here – in ‘Ray’s Records’ – I had watched (thrilled to bits!), as a girl, of about my own age, did the most amazing things with first one, and then her other, (bare) feet… She shufflled and, in various (marvellous!) ways, played about with – manipulated – her (evidently!) very supple and flexible, well-worn (ratty!), red, ballet flats. She had been just so awesome, to watch… In fact, I was hoping I’d see her today…
But, today my luck was out, and so I decided to take a walk down the High St. to see if anything â€˜interesting’ was going on… until it was time for my 11 a.m. appointment with Miss Harding, at the Northern and General Bank.
At the appointed time of 11 a.m., I pushed open the front door of the Northern and General Bank and, en route to the Customer Services Desk, I just happened to glance at the Bank Cashiers’ windows, and at the 4, exclusively female N&G Bank Cashiers, who were dealing with the Bank’s patiently queuing customers, from behind their Bank Cashiers’ windows.
And, I couldn’t help but notice, that the 4 female N&G Bank Cashiers; who varied greatly, in their ages, and in the level of attractiveness of their own, individual appearances, all seemed to have one, very strange thing in common: They all seemed… happy – very happy, but… ‘unaccountably’ happy…
The 4 female N&G Bank Cashiers, all had, I realized; a… happy demeanour – but, no… it was more than that. Much more – a sort of… a sort of, all-at-once: dreamy, preoccupied, far-away, smug, self-satisfied, complacently contented – serene – expression on their faces, as they were seated behind their Bank Cashiers’ windows.
I must have stood and stared, at the 4 mysteriously smiling N&G Bank Cashiers’ faces, for some moments, for I was brought out of my curious reverie, by an all-at-once; imperious-sounding, uncivil, disdainful, haughty and arrogant female voice. “Yes? Can I help you?,” inquired the decidedly acerbic-tongued Receptionist, of me, from where she sat, behind the Customer Services Desk.
The Receptionist was young – about my own age – and she was, I thought very, very attractive, indeed… She had blue eyes, and lovely, shoulder-length blonde hair and, as I looked at her very shapely legs – which were plainly visible, under the open space of the Customer Services Desk that she sat on the other side of – I saw that she wore the dark hose, and the black, office pumps that all of the female N&G Bank Staff wore; and, which were an integral part, of their Northern and General Bank Uniform.
I also saw, that the Receptionist was dangling one of her black, office pumps from her crossed ankles, as she had her shapely legs stretched out before her. As I approached her, I saw her heel – popping in, popping out, popping in, popping out – of her black, office pump… And so I approached the Customer Services Desk, slowly – very slowly – so as to stretch out, and to prolong the moment, for as long as possible…
In tones, that would normally be associated with commanding a pesky dog, the Receptionist tersely instructed me – “Sit!”
Though I was somewhat taken aback, by the Receptionist’s appalling rudeness, I tried to shrug it off: the Receptionist was very attractive, after all, and so I would ‘let her off’, I thought… besides, she dangles her pumps!
When I sat down on the seat opposite the Receptionist, to my surprise and pleasure, I found that the seat was actually very comfortable; with padded leather arm and headrests. And, I thought to myself, facetiously: Dad might not be able to get a Small Business Loan (“Except, at exorbitant interest,”) out of Miss Harding – but, at least he can sit comfortably, while he is being told â€˜NO’!
The Receptionist gazed at me; haughtily and arrogantly, derisively and contemptuously… and, I wondered if Dad was actually right, after all, about what he had said this morning – about the atrocious attitude of Bank Staff, these days. Or, perhaps the Receptionist had noticed, that I had ogled her pump-dangling display, as I had approached her Customer Services Desk… in slow motion, and as though I was wading through treacle…
When the moment of silence had dragged on a bit too long, for her patience, the Receptionist all-but spat, at me – “Well? Do you think I’ve got all day?” “Good morning, Miss. I’ve come to see Miss Harding… the Manager,” I said to her, politely and respectfully. Not taking her eyes from mine, the Receptionist replied, tartly, “I think I know who the Manager is, thank you very much.” Pushing a button on her Desk, she spoke into her intercom. “Your 11 a.m. appointment is here, Miss Harding.”
Well! I thought. That’s charming, that is! The Receptionist didn’t even mention my name… I was an “11 a.m. appointment.”
As I waited, I became increasingly unsettled – disturbed – by the seemingly penetrating intensity, of the Receptionist’s silent, blue-eyed gaze…
It was not, so much, that I was so nervous because she was so very attractive. Though, of course, that was partly it – after all, I am the same as any other red-blooded male, who gets all hot and bothered in the immediate proximity of such sexy loveliness. Of course I am!… It was not, either, even because I thought that she might have caught me staring under her Desk, at her sexily dangling, black pump… No, I was unsettled, because she seemed to be looking at me, as if… as if she knew something – something, that I didn’t… As if she was in possession of, and was harbouring, some… some delicious little secret…
I was quite surprised (and somewhat concerned, too!), when, instead of being invited into the Manager’s Office, as I had been expecting – to discuss what was, after all, my own, personal and private business – I heard Miss Harding reply over the intercom, in very crisp, business-like and no-nonsense tones, “Thank you, Paula. I will be there in a moment.”
A moment later, I had to catch my breath – at the stunning beauty, of Miss Harding; who I was seeing for the first time. Dad had never mentioned that Miss Harding was so gorgeous. But then, Dad only had eyes for one woman – my Mum.
Miss Harding, I thought, at about 25, was rather on the young side, to be occupying such a senior position at the Bank – perhaps she was of the “New Breed,” that Dad had spoken of. Miss Harding, I realized, must have replaced the â€˜old fuddy duddy’ – the man who had been Manager, when I had taken out my 3-Year, Personal Loan with the N&G, about a year ago.
Miss Harding took the second seat on the other side of the Customer Services Desk, as she sat down beside Paula, the Receptionist. Miss Harding, like Paula, also had blue eyes, and blonde hair – lots of it. Miss Harding wore her hair – glorious, luxuriant tresses of a gleaming, pale-gold – piled up on top of her head. Holding her crowning glory in place, was a matching pair of white hair-stays that, I thought, had the rather stunning effect, of making her beautiful hair shine even more glossily.
Miss Harding was far too beautiful, I thought – rather sexistly, I suppose – to be spending her days, in the dry and dull, unprepossessing environs, of the N&G… when she could so easily be looking out, I thought, from the glossy and glamorous centre-fold pages of one of Gary’s Girly Magazines… her sexy bare feet, excitingly displayed… unless she posed for ‘Snatch!’ Magazine, that is… Maybe she model’s in her spare time, I mused. Maybe, she… Maybe she earns a hell of a lot more money, working for the Bank, these days! – if Dad was calling it right.
I heard those exciting, unmistakable, tell-tale, softly rustling sounds that – to my finely-tuned ears! – meant that both of the female Bank Employees facing me, were easing their dark hosed feet from their black, office pumps… and, there was nothing in the world that I wanted to do more, than to look down, and to feast my eyes upon what was going on, under the Customer Services Desk… But, with both the Receptionist, Paula, and Miss Harding, the Manager looking directly at me, I did not dare. And, as I looked at their beautiful faces – looking unwaveringly and unblinkingly back at me – I felt my face redden, and grow hot, as I listened to the maddeningly seductive rustlings of their hosed feet… caressing shoe leather, as they absent-mindedly – carelessly – played with their pumps, under the Customer Services Desk… And, I soon began to quail, under the watchful, intent gazes of their combined and continued, silent, penetrating scrutiny.
Now, I was to find that the brusque, blunt, peremptory, no-nonsense, straight-to-the-point – rude – manner, that had so characterized Miss Harding’s ‘red’ letter (or, rather, ‘summons’) to me, was faithfully reflected, in the abrasive manner of her person…
Not ‘beating about the bush’: not only, did Miss Harding eschew, any of the formal, widely adopted, recognized protocols of first introduction; not only, did she dispense with, the universally embraced convention, of extending civil, common courtesies; not only, did she shun, any sort of warm, welcoming, putting-you-at-your-ease, light-hearted pleasantries – Miss Harding, without so much as a ‘Good morning’, or even a ‘Hello!’, ‘cracked on’. Straight down to business… it looked as if Dad was right, after all – that I had been summoned, to “A ‘meeting without coffee’.”
To my shocked disbelief and horrified embarrassment: in the full sight and hearing of all of the customers in the Bank, who were patiently queuing up, and waiting their turn to be dealt with at the Bank Cashiers’ windows, Miss Harding addressed me, loudly and clearly. Loudly and clearly enough, for all in the Bank to hear…
“I, am Miss Harding, and I am the Manager, of this Branch of the Northern and General Bank. I have summoned you to the Bank this morning, David, in connection with the late repayment of your Personal Loan, last month, which is in direct contravention, of the Loan’s Terms and Conditions,” Miss Harding informed me – and, everyone else in the Bank!
Miss Harding continued, coldly. “The Northern and General Bank, David, takes a very dim view – a very dim view, indeed – with regards to the late repayment of it’s Loans. “It is an extremely serious matter. And, as you will be aware, David – that is, of course, if you have taken the trouble to read the Small-Print, pertaining to the Terms and Conditions of your Personal Loan Agreement, with the Northern and General Bank – we have the right: without the need or obligation to supply you with either written or verbal notice, to change the Terms and Conditions of your Personal Loan Agreement, with us, in the event of your defaulting on it – and, with immediate effect,” intoned Miss Harding, ominously.
Now, I was certain – absolutely certain – that cruel, malicious smirks were beginning to insinuate themselves upon the beautiful faces of both Paula, the Receptionist, and of the Bank Manager, Miss Harding, as Miss Harding continued, finally concluding her withering, crushing dressing-down, of me – in front of everyone in the Bank…
“David, as you have now defaulted, on the Terms and Conditions of your Personal Loan Agreement, with the Northern and General Bank, it is my duty, as Manager, to inform you that we have now changed your Terms and Conditions accordingly – and, with immediate effect.”
So shocked – mortified – was I, at having every customer in the Bank listening in, on the belittling, withering reprimand dealt out to me, by Miss Harding, that I wanted a hole to open up in the floor, and swallow me. And, to borrow Miss Harding’s term – “With immediate effect!”
Such, was my feeling of acute, emasculating belittlement: of my disbelieving, mind-numbing shock, at this, so severe, so over-the-top, so unexpected – regardless, of what Dad had said, in his angry and bitter castigations of “That woman!” – reprimand, by Miss Harding; so tongue-tied, was I, that I could only muster a pathetically feeble, wholly ineffectual reply, in my defence…
“I am very sorry, Miss Harding – very, very sorry indeed,” I began, in tones of abject apology. “But, you see, I had to spend the money on repairs to my car – that ended up costing a lot more than the Garage’s original estimate… And, of course, as I’m sure you’ll appreciate, Miss Harding, I need my car to get to work…”
At the Bank Manager’s stony, unimpressed silence, I waffled on, inadequately… “I assure you, Miss Harding, I had every intention of making up the shortfall, by paying double, next month… So, you see, Miss Harding, I would have made it up, next month, I —” Cutting me off, dismissively – the interview now over – Miss Harding crisply said to the Receptionist, “Take him away, please, Paula.”
For long moments, I simply sat there: confused, perplexed, baffled… Take me away? Take me where? And, what for?…
I soon found out!
The Receptionist, Paula, picked up a small device from her Desk; that was black, and about the same shape and size as a mobile phone. Paula then pointed the device at my seat and, nonchalantly – as if she was doing nothing more unusual or remarkable than changing channels on TV, dissatisfied with the present entertainment – she pressed a button…
Immediately – and to my shocked incredulity – I felt a seatbelt-like device strap itself around my waist; and thereby firmly anchoring me to my seat. Simultaneously, I found my wrists securely clamped to the thickly padded armrests of my seat… I was actually trapped, in my seat! I was immobilized! My acute astonishment, my sense of… unreality, rocked me! What the…?
And, such was the measure, of my shocked, dumbfounded amazement, that I then mindlessly obeyed the harsh and bossy instruction of the Receptionist, Paula, when she stood behind my seat, and ordered me, imperiously, “David! Lift up your feet!”
In full view, of the queuing, staring, nudging and pointing Bank customers, Paula pushed me – like an invalid in a wheelchair in an Old People’s Home – past the Bank Cashiers’ windows, and up to a security door at the end. After tapping out the required digits on the security lock, Paula pushed me through, and into the… well, what I thought of, as the ‘Long Room’ – where the 4 female Bank Cashiers of the Northern and General Bank, were situated, at their Bank Cashiers’ windows.
The 4 Bank Cashiers, I saw, were positioned upon an elevated platform, that had a single-barred safety-rail that ran along its entire length, at a height of about 4 feet.
It seemed (to my mind!), as if the 4 Bank Cashiers, were actually placed upon a pedestal… and (to my eyes), they were almost Regal, in the manner of their stately bearing.
Upon this elevated (and, to me, seemingly ‘elevating’) platform, the 4 Bank Cashiers sat comfortably – importantly, like Queens upon their thrones – upon padded leather stools that were bolted to the floor.
But, nothing that had happened so far, could have prepared me for the incredible, mind-blowing shock, of what happened next… Of the truly awesome – life-changing, experience – that was in store for me, in the ‘Long Room’ of the Northern and General Bank… An experience, so tumultuous in its magnitude, that it would rock me, shake me – take me – to the absolute epicentre of my being… to ‘where I lived’.
Paula: without ceremony, and without a word to me, guided the castors of my seat – sideways-fashion – into a pair of grooved runners that were set into the floor, that served as rails and, that ran the length of the Long Room, that housed the 4 female Bank Cashiers, of the Northern and General Bank.
In the disbelieving haze of my initial shock, I had numbly and dumbly registered – in the moments before Paula had guided the small wheels of my seat into the runners that served as rails – that there were already 3 Bank customers; 2 men and a woman, who were restrained in their seats, just as I was. They were, I saw – to my utter astonishment! – securely placed in their ‘positions’, further down the ‘line’ and, it was as though we had all been placed, upon some kind of weird and surreal conveyor belt…
And, it was clear to me, now – perfectly clear! – as to just what was the actual purpose, of our deciedly singular mode of transport… And, I was totally flabergasted!
Oh! My! God! – I knew, now, what was going to happen! Wordlessly, Paula purposefully pushed my seat along the runners – sideways-fashion. Then, at coming to what was like a branch-line of a railway track – the first of 4, in the Long Room – Paula guided my seat onto it, forward-fashion. Paula then pushed my seat the last few feet forward and, after my seated and restrained lower body had rolled under the elevated platform of the Long Room – upon which, the 4 female Bank Cashiers of the Northern and General Bank were comfortably seated – I came to a stop… and, I realized, that I had now arrived at the first â€˜Station’, on the â€˜Northern and General Line’.
After all, it didn’t take much figuring out: when I found that my head was positioned; directly behind, and at exactly the same height – mere inches away! – as the dark hosed, black, office pump shod feet, of the first in line of the 4 female Bank Cashiers of the Northern and General Bank… I knew I had ‘Arrived’ – in more ways than one!
From what I could remember, from what I had briefly seen of the 4 female Bank Cashiers of the Northern and General Bank, as I had first entered – not least, the all-at-once, dreamy, preoccupied, far-away, self-satisfied, smug, complacently content – serene – expressions, on all of their faces, and, that they varied widely; in their ages, and in the level of the attractiveness of their own, individual appearance – I thought that the Bank Cashier, at whose feet I was now ‘Stationed’, was probably the least attractive, of the 4 Bank Cashiers.
From my first, fleeting impression of her, I remembered that she was a ‘big’ woman who, I thought, was not much to look at. And, with her best days clearly behind her – on the wrong side of 40 – over ‘The Hill’.
Her best feature, I thought, was her long, dirty-blonde hair (pretty soon, though, she might be ‘Hitting The Bottle’ – and I don’t mean alcohol!) that, to be fair, was still rather eye-catching and, she might even have been very attractive… when she was younger.
Now, though, and despite having a pleasant enough, open and engaging face, she was, I thought, definitely ‘past it’… On the other side of ‘The Hill’ – the down-side.
She was, I thought, using rather a lot of make-up, too, in her fight against Father Time. Not least, the rather garish, ‘Shocking Pink’ lipstick – that shone out from her lips like a neon sign of ‘invitation’ – that she wore, as if she thought that she might otherwise go unnoticed…
And she’d put on weight.
After securing me into ‘position’, the Receptionist, Paula, simply left me there. Left me… Without a word and, as if she had just done the most mundane, the most unremarkable, the most ordinary and every-day thing in all the world – such as providing her colleague with a cup of tea – left me. And, after tapping out the required digits, Paula went out through the security door, and back to her Customer Services Reception Desk.
Now, as I watched – both captive, and captivated – the sheer, run-away power of my uncontainable excitement, was being truly unleashed. Was being given… Free reign!
For, right in front of my amazed, mesmerized face, the Bank Cashier’s right, dark hosed foot began to emerge: slowly, teasingly, tantalizingly – promisingly… from its slightly tight-fitting, black, office pump… it began to emerge…
As though it sensed my presence – like a predator, sensing the nearness and the vulnerability of its prey: as though it had a mind, an intelligence, all of its own; as though it acted independently, and quite of its own volition – with a slight rustle, of panty hose rubbing against shoe-leather, and with a distinct, ‘whooshing’ sound, of suddenly-released, warm, moist air… purposefully, the Bank Cashier’s right, dark hosed foot, began to emerge…
As though from its lair: as the Bank Cashier’s foot, slowly, intently, eased itself out of the retaining and restraining – suffocating – confines, of its slightly tight-fitting, black, office pump, I watched… fascinated, mesmerized, half paralysed, and with an incredible, mind-shattering excitement, as the Bank Cashier’s right, dark hosed foot reached back… slowly, but surely… until it filled my entire vision… until it became my world.
And, still, the Bank Cashier’s right, dark hosed foot kept coming, and coming… inexorably… inching closer, ever closer – towards my adoring and enraptured, waiting and ‘available’ face…
Now, I was being consumed, and overwhelmed: by my own – personal brand – of ‘Exorbitant Interest’!
An ‘interest’, that – in my Dad’s, own words – was “Far too much, and far in excess, and far beyond, what is reasonable, and what would be considered normal, by most people, son.”
And, thanks to my own – personal brand – of ‘exorbitant interest’, I was becoming wildly aroused, â€˜down there’! Aroused, like never before! Like never, ever before!…
I was driven half demented, by the burning, raging, all-consuming wildfires of my long-denied, long-pent-up desires; as I saw, and as I greedily drank in, every detail – every thrilling, heart-stopping detail – of that fabulous and mind-blowing vision.
I was half delirious, with sheer, pure happiness, as I watched the Bank Cashier’s right, dark hosed foot – her sole; her fascinating, excitng sole, coming closer, and closer… ever closer… towards my waiting and ‘available’ face…
I saw the glory – the Out-Of-This-World! – wondrous Glory, of the Bank Cashier’s right, dark hosed sole… Saw it, in twenty-twenty vision, perfect clarity… Saw it, in such graphic, glorious, amazing, extreme close-up, high-definition detail… I knew, that the awesome image was burned onto my retinas – indelibly stencilled into my memory… For ever!
Thrilling, exciting – arousing! – detail: I was getting more and more excited, by the minute – ‘down there’…
The Bank Cashier, who sat at the first ‘Station’ of the ‘Northern and General Line’ – the first in line, that is, of the 4 female Bank Cashiers of the Northern and General Bank – had quite a large, meaty and fleshy sole. Quite broad, too, and with a deep, generous arch, that was wonderful to behold – and, I was doing exactly that!
Her foot, had a big, round, and hard and solid-looking heel and, I could see, through the teasing, tantalizing, gossamer-thin material of her dark hose, the slightly rough skin, at the outer edges of the bottom of her heel… But, what excited – mesmerized – me the most, was the amazing, extreme close-up sight, of the underside her dark hose-covered toes… coming closer, and closer… ever closer… inexorably… Until, finally – inevitably – the Bank Cashier’s long, splayed, dark hose-covered toes found my nose… And – ‘possessively’ – cupped it, and locked onto it…
Just exactly, and for all the world, as if that was what my nose was there for.
Now, my shocked, delighted amazement, was complete! I could not believe – I could hardly dare believe – that this was happening to me! Believe, that this was really, actually, happening to me! I thought, that I would wake up from this impossible dream – this ‘Dream Come True’ – at any moment… That I would wake up, to find the sheets of my bed in tangled, chaotic disarray, from the fevered throes of my unconscious ravings! Never before – never, ever before – had I known such exhilaration! Such… unprecedented, unparalleled, perfect happiness!
Through my fantasies, I could only dream, of such excitement. Of such exhilaration – of such incredible pleasure.
And now, not only was my impossible dream actually coming true, but, the awesome – magical – reality of it, was such, that it transcended, went far, far beyond, even my most cherished, my most far-fetched fantasies… It was almost too wonderful to bear…
Further along the ‘Northern and General Line’, at the other 3 ‘Stations’, I could plainly hear the frantic and furious, but futile, struggles, of the other 3 defaulting Bank customers – the 2 men and the woman – who had preceded me, into the Long Room of the Northern and General Bank.
My 3 fellow defaulters, restrained in their seats, and forced to face front, just as I was: our faces, made conveniently ‘available’, and within easy, effortless, backwards reach, of the dark hosed feet of the Northern and General Bank Cashiers – who, like Queens upon their thrones; their serfs, at their feet, sat comfortably upon their padded leather stools, upon their elevated platform – my 3 fellow defaulters; continually and loudly, called for ‘redress’.
Their high umbrage, all too evident in their raised, outraged, bitterly complaining voices, was so loud, I thought, that it must surely have carried – despite the sound-proofing – through to the Bank’s customers, on the other side of the Bank Cashiers’ windows… although, on refection, I couldn’t recall having heard anything, earlier.
The 2 outraged men (one of them, about my own age, while the other man was about my Dad’s age – 45) absolutely turned the air blue, with their appalling language, as they protested vociferously, bitterly and resentfully, and – for good measure – angrily cited Human Rights violations… All, to no avail… Their profanity-ridden, scandalized diatribe of high indignation, seeminglly falling upon deaf ears… And, in tortured and tormented tones, they ranted and railed, against the despicable and outrageous treatment that was being pitilessly perpetrated against them – via the backwards-reaching, dark hosed, ‘possessing’, feet, of the Cashiers of the Northern and General Bank.
In contrast, though, I could hear that the woman’s star was on the wane, and it was quite plain, that she was now losing heart for the ‘fight’… In fact, she was actually starting to cry. She sounded, to me, as if she was getting close to the end of her tether, too… very close… on her last legs – she’d had enough…
The woman – an elderly lady, who was 75 if she was a day – was now reduced, to emitting a heart-rending, pathetic, plaintive whine of distress: reduced, to begging and pleading. Begging and pleading; beseechingly, pitifully, tearfully… for it to stop… for it all… just to stop.
And, I felt, for the elderly lady – of course I did! After all, she was someone’s husband; someone’s Mum; someone’s Grannie…
It tugged at my very heartstrings, listening to the anguished wails of the acutely distressed, elderly lady, begging and pleading… Begging and pleading, for an end to her misery. Begging and pleading; to be released, from the diabolical, abominable atrocity, of which she was being so callously, heartlessly, mercilessly, and systematically subjected to, by the Cashiers of the Northern and General Bank – at whose backwards-reaching, dark hosed, ‘possessing’, feet, she was so securely, and so perfectly positioned…
I thought back, to this morning at the breakfast table… Remembering what Dad had said to me, after reading my ‘red’ letter from Miss Harding… The ‘red’ letter, that was, in effect, the blue touch-paper that had set off his latest tirade – against the Banks, in general, and against “That woman!,” in particular… And, it was the ‘red’ letter that, after reading it, Dad had told me to prepare myself, for “A bit of a dressing-down.” And, for a “‘Meeting without coffee’.”
A “‘Meeting without coffee’?” Hell! Dad didn’t know the half of it!
I, though, did not complain! I, did not struggle! I, did not demand ‘redress’! I, did not cry! I, did not cite Human Rights violations!
I inhaled, deeply, of those long, warm, moist and, all-at-once: clutching, clamping, claiming, imprisoning – and, most of all, ‘possessing’ – dark hosed toes, of the Bank Cashier, who was comfortably seated on her padded leather stool, at the first of the 4 ‘Stations’, on the ‘Northern and General Line’.
Alas! But there was no likelihood, of the ‘wrong kind’ of snow, or the ‘wrong kind’ of leaves, disrupting this ‘rail’ journey! I would be happy to be delayed here – indefinitely!
If happiness could be inhaled, I was inhaling it now! The Bank Cashier’s amazing – arousing! – foot scent, was an exotic aroma, that filled my head, and filled my world… filled my whole-wide-world, with its heady, dizzying, intoxicatingly pungent stink, as she continued to cup my nostrils, firmly – ‘possessively’ – in her dark hosed toes…
It was hard to tell, though, if the Bank Cashier was even aware, of my actual presence – even as she planted her broad and fleshy, dark hosed foot right into the middle of my face… I thought, of course, that the Bank Cashier simply must be – had to be – aware of my presence, at her feet. But, she gave no actual, outward, ‘communicative’ sign, and so I couldn’t be sure – really, sure – that she was actually ‘cognizant’, of my being there… Or, whether she was simply ignoring me, because I was a defaulter. And, as such – ‘the lowest of the low’ – beneath her notice.
The Bank Cashier, did not look down at me and, she certainly had not deigned, to acknowledge my presence, at her feet – either verbally, or even by so much as a look…
For all I knew, her variously: searching, probing, rubbing, nostril-cupping, ‘playful’ foot, was simply toying with my ‘available’ face, ‘seemingly’, absent-mindedly – carelessly – as she dealt with the patiently queuing customers, at her Bank Cashier’s window… because it was there.
This, was more than I had ever dreamed of – much, much more! I realized, that I was crying. I was actually crying… Hot, sweet tears ran down my cheeks. I was hopelessly and helplessly overwhelmed, by a wonderful – magical – euphoria… Overpowered, by the sheer, mind-shattering magnitude, of my rapturous ecstasy… By the incredible, shocking realization, that my dream – my impossible dream – was actually coming true…
My overloaded senses, were on fire! They raged, out of control! At ‘Critical-Mass! I was aroused, like never before – like never, ever before!
The sight, of her foot! The exhilarating vision, of the Bank Cashier’s broad and fleshy sole, of her long, splaying toes, and of her big, round, and hard and solid-looking heel, with the slightly rough skin, at the outer edges of the bottom of her heel…
The feel, of her foot! The thrilling, electrifying contact, of the Bank Cashier’s dark hosed foot flesh, as she pressed her broad and fleshy sole, right into my face!… Her tingling touch, as her ‘playful’ foot, toyed with my face: ‘seemingly’, absent-mindedly – carelessly…
The smell, of her foot! The pungent, heady, dizzying, intoxicating – arousing! – aroma, of the Bank Cashier’s dark hose covered, stinky toes, as she cupped them around my nostrils… As she clamped them to my nose, clutching it, firmly – painfully, almost – like a perching, exotic bird of paradise!
I wanted this incredible, amazing experience – this ‘Dream Come True’ – to go on, and on, and on…
I wanted, to go on: sniffing, inhaling deeply, of the Bank Cashier’s fragrant foot fumes; to go on, smelling her intoxicatingly pungent – arousing! – dark hose covered toes; to go on, gazing rapturously, at the Bank Cashier’s broad and fleshy sole; to go on, gazing adoringly, at her big, round, hard and solid-looking heel, with the slightly rough skin, at the outer edges of the bottom of her heel – to go on, ‘being there’…
To go on, just simply, ‘being there’, for the Bank Cashier… so that her broad and fleshy, long-toed, dark hose covered, ‘playful’ feet, could toy with my conveniently positioned, ‘available’ face, ‘seemingly’, absent-mindedly – carelessly – to her heart’s content.
I wanted this unbelievable, fantastic experience – this ‘Dream Come True’ – to go on, and on, and on…
Never before – never, ever before! – had I known such bliss! Such excitement! Such pleasure! Such… incredible, all-consuming arousal!
After what (I supposed) must have been several minutes, the Bank Cashier’s long (and strong!), dark hose covered toes, and the broad and fleshy sole of her dark hose covered foot, suddenly began to increase their ‘seemingly’, absent-minded – careless – activity, with my face… And I realized; to my even more heightened excitement, that it seemed to be as a direct result, of the Bank Cashier chatting to a customer – a man – who she was presently serving… and chatting to, very saucily…
From what I could hear, of their rather animated, boistrous-sounding exchange, he was a young man of about my own age and, he had a rather confident, cheeky-sounding voice, and an altogether ‘cocky’, sort of attitude… And, apparently sensing, that the Bank Cashier might be receptive, to his ‘romantic’ overtures, and susceptible, to his predatorial wiles, he became more and more emboldened…
From what I could hear, the charmer was certainly using his ‘skills’ to good effect, with the Bank Cashier – who, I thought, was old enough to be his Mum!
There was, I could hear, a definite, unmistakable undertone, of ‘on-the-pull’, sexual innuendo, in his voice – he was actually flirting, with the Bank Cashier! Chatting her up! By the sounds of it, he was ‘making her day’; really bringing her out of herself; really ‘getting her going’ – really… ‘turning her on’… By the sounds of it, he was a right little womanizer!
And, the Bank Cashier – from what I could hear – was obviously not averse, to such flattering, male attention. Far from it! She was lapping it up! Unashamedly ‘egging him on’, even! The brazen hussy!
From what I could hear, the Bank Cashier seemed to enjoy – very much enjoy! – the decidedly risque-sounding banter, with the cheeky, ‘cocky’, flirty young man, who showered her with flowery, flattering compliments. Compliments, that were, apparently, the modus operandi, of his lecherous attentions. And – from what I could hear – of their sexually-charged, smuttily-innuendoed, filthy, foul-mouthed flirtations, she gave, at least as good as she got… The saucy wench!
The Bank Cashier – who sat, like a Queen on her throne and, who had not even deigned, to acknowledge my serf-like presence, at her feet; either verbally, or even by so much as a look – sounded like a right old slapper!
As though reacting to some sort of… stimulus, the Bank Cashier’s dark hosed foot, suddenly became hyper-active – absolutely going ‘To Town’ on my ‘available’ face: variously exploring, my face, rubbing it, pressing it, caressing it, teasing it – toying, with it!… Using it, abusing it, claiming it, imprisoning it – and, most of all – ‘possessing’ it.
Just exactly, and for all the world, as if that was what my face was there for.
At such treatment, I became more than half delerious, with amazing, incredible pleasure. Not least – or rather, principally – from my perceived reasons for the Bank Cashier’s instigation of it!… From her being titilated – from her being ‘turned on’!
I wanted to shake that macho, ‘Conquering Hero’, that ‘Cassanova’ – that ‘cocky’, lecherous little devil – by the hand! Buy him a pint! I owed him one!
Oh! The brazen hussy! The saucy wench! Old enough to be his Mum! The flirty, dirty bitch! She was a scarlet woman, a tart, a floozy, an easy lay – a right old slapper!… And, here I was, beneath her feet!… and beneath her notice. Beneath her acknowledgement – either verbally, or even by so much as a look!
When I saw the Bank Cashier’s other foot: when I saw her left, dark hosed foot, ease itself; with a ‘whooshing’ sound, of suddenly-released, warm, moist air, from the retaining and restraining – suffocating – confines, of its slightly tight-fitting, black, office pump… and reach back, slowly… but surely, until it filled my entire vision… and kept on coming, and coming… inexorably… inching closer, ever closer… towards my waiting and ‘available’ face – I started to go absolutely crazy! For I realized that, now, both – yes, both! – of the Bank Cashier’s broad and fleshy, dark hosed feet, were about to go ‘To Town’ on my ‘available’ face!
I thought my heart would burst – my stressed-out, over-worked heart – unable to cope, as both (yes, both!) of the Bank Cashier’s large and fleshy, warm, moist, pungently intoxicating and, all-at-once: searching, probing, rubbing, pressing, caressing, playing – toying!… Using, abusing, claiming, imprisoning – and, most of all, ‘possessing’ – dark hosed feet, were roaming and cavorting, all over my face…
Just exactly, and for all the world, as if that was what my face was there for.
The incredible – almost unbearable – excitement and pleasure, of it!… The sheer, unadulterated joy of it, was so intense, so all-consuming, so overwhelming, that I actually wondered if I might lose my sanity… wondered, if I was experiencing far, far more excitement, more, pure pleasure, more, unadulterated bliss, than the human mind was designed to cope with…
My rapturous ecstasy, was so overpowering, so white-hot and fever-pitch, that I was by now reduced to a sort of almost mindless, semi-delirious, devil-may-care abandon.
In my sublime euphoria, I now recognized a new, unprecedented emotion… Now, fresh, hot, sweet tears flowed down my cheeks, as I began to understand what this new, powerful, unsurpassable – cathartic – emotion, actually was…
At last, I had been given a ‘Shrine’: at which to respect, to revere, to adore, to worship… at which to offer my devotions. At last, I had been given an outlet, for my love.
As my hot, sweet tears, of the euphoric fulfilment of my worship and devotion coursed and streamed down my cheeks, I gave: completely, fully, and unreservedly, of my respect – of my reverence…
In worship, I humbly offered my adoration, my devotion – my love – at the ‘Shrine’ of my ‘Goddess of the moment’…
Now, there was no holding me back! In an uncontrollable, uncontainable frenzy of religious-like fervour, I fervently pressed my adoring lips; I worshipfully and lovingly kissed, the broad and fleshy, warm, moist, pungently intoxicating and, variously: searching, exploring, probing, pressing, caressing, rubbing, playing, teasing – toying!… Using, abusing, taunting, tormenting, devouring, claiming, imprisoning – and, most of all, ‘possessing’ – dark hosed feet, of the Bank Cashier… Of my ‘Goddess of the moment’.
Lovingly, I kissed the dark hosed soles of the Bank Cashier… again, and again, and again.. over and over and over…
Frenetic, in my desire… Frantic, in my passion.
In that moment…
In that moment… when the Bank Cashier – who sat comfortably, perched upon her padded leather stool, at the first of the 4 ‘Stations’ of the ‘Northern and General Line’, in the Long Room of the Northern and General Bank…
In that moment… when the Bank Cashier – who was not much to look at; who was getting fat; who, on the wrong side of 40, was definitely ‘past it’ – over ‘The Hill’ – going down fast, and gaining ever-increasing momentum, in her unstoppable downward spiral… And, who used copious amounts of make-up, in her vain, ‘Mutton Dressed as Lamb’ attempts, in trying to ward off the unwelcome and relentless advances – the molestations – of Father Time…
In that moment… when the Bank Cashier – who sat, like a Queen upon her throne, and who had not even deigned, to acknowledge my serf-like presence, at her feet: either verbally, or even by so much as a look… And yet, who was – all to evidently! – a right old slapper…
In that moment… when the Bank Cashier – that flirty, dirty, Bank Cashier: who, as a direct result of her ‘stimulation’, ‘seemingly’, absent-mindedly – carelessly – went ‘To Town’ on my ‘available’ face, with both of her broad and fleshy, dark hosed soles, as she (animatedly and boistrously and, with such a level of high impropriety, that I would never before have believed possible, in a Bank employee), so inappropriately partook in such licentious, salacious badinage, with the very instigator and agitator, of her footloose ‘stimulation’…
In that moment… when the Bank Cashier – so shamelessly engaged, with the agent of her ‘stimulation’: swapping smutty innuendoes, with the cheeky charmer; with the macho, ‘cocky’, ‘on-the-pull’, ‘tap-up-artist’; with the accomplished Casanova; with the lecherous little sod, on the other side of her Bank Cashier’s window – with who, I wanted to buy a pint! I owed him one!…
In that moment… when the Bank Cashier – that flirty, dirty, Bank Cashier: in her back-and-forth, point-scoring, lustful banter, spouted her filthy, foul-mouthed, slutty, lascivious rejoinders (Oh! The saucy wench! She was a right old slapper!), and gave, at least as good as she got!…
In that moment… I loved her!
In that moment!
In that moment… Oh! In that moment, in that sweet, sweet moment…
In that moment… when the Bank Cashier – with her broad and fleshy, dark hosed feet, took ‘possession’ of my ‘available’ face and, in the throes of her footloose ‘stimulation’, went ‘To Town’ on it… did ‘her thing’ with it… and, as she did so, heightened my already, mind-shattering, all-consuming ecstasy, to a new, fever-pitch, soaring, all-time high, with the best ‘sex’ I’d ever had…
I loved her.
In that moment… when the Bank Cashier – subjected me to the most amazing, sublime, and perfect… use… making my ‘Dream Come True’… It was, the ‘Ultimate’ – it was, ‘Humiliation Heaven’. And… in that moment…
I loved her.
And, I was crying again. I couldn’t help it – I was just… too happy. After all, I was in ‘Humilation Heaven’. And it was, the Ultimate… It was, ‘My Dream Come True’.
I actually was, satisfying a craving – a craving, that was a craving like no other…
A craving, occasioned by my own – personal brand – of ‘exorbitant interest’… An interest, that was – in my Dad’s, own words – “Far too much, and far in excess, and far beyond, what is reasonable, and what would be considered normal, by most people, son.”
So completely and utterly consumed, and overwhelmed, was I… so lost, in the awesome discovery of my amazing new world – so lost, in ‘Humiliation Heaven’ – that I was only brought back to Earth, when the Receptionist, Paula, returned to the Long Room, that housed the 4 female Bank Cashiers of the Northern and General Bank.
Paula was ‘escorting’ another Bank customer – a man in his 60′s, I guessed – who, I assumed, must also in some way have defaulted, and fallen foul of the Bank’s Terms and Conditions.
Like myself and the other 3 defaulting Bank customers already in-situ, in the Long Room, who were paying the price – suffering the ‘levied sanction’ – of our default, the man was similarly restrained in his seat. A reluctant ‘commuter’ (personally, I wished I had a Season Ticket!), the man was ready to be loaded, by Paula, onto the runners that served as rails… and, to begin his ‘journey’, through the 4 ‘Stations’ of the â€˜Northern and General Line’.
Wordlessly, and without ceremony, the pretty, blonde-haired Receptionist, Paula – as though she was doing the most mundane, the most unremarkable, and the most ordinary and every day thing in the world, such as supplying her Bank colleague with a cup of tea – pushed the seat in which she was ‘escorting’ the defaulting Bank customer – the man in his 60′s, who was already making a ‘song and dance’, about his treatment – and, she guided the castors of the seat onto the runners that served as rails, sideways fashion, and the small wheels rolled smoothly and silently, as Paula pushed the defaulting man along… totally ignoring his vociferous (and non-too-clean!) expressions of outrage.
It was one month to the day since my last orgasm when my wonderful Mistress called me into our bedroom. She was sitting on the edge of the bed in a black mini-dress, her feet visible only through the gaps in her sluttiest shoes. She looked amazing and she knew it. She pointed to the floor in front of her and I obediently knelt, lowering my head in a gesture of compliance and submission. I couldn’t take my eyes off her beautiful feet and wished that I could worship them, but I knew I must be patient.
Her first words were delivered with little discernible emotion.
“Have you touched your cock since I last punished you slave?”
I shifted uneasily on my knees, my cock already starting to grow a little inside my jeans.
She sighed loudly, slightly exasperated by my lack of self-control.
“I thought we agreed that MY cock is no longer yours to play with slave?”
“We did Mistress, I am sorry…”
“And yet still you touch it.”
My head hung a little lower, the knowledge that I had yet again failed to fully live up to Mistress’s expectations weighing heavily on my shoulders.
“How many times?”
“I see… and how many times have I touched it this month slave?”
I wasn’t expecting this question and had to quickly calculate the number from memory.
“Eleven, I think, Mistress.”
“Eleven… that sounds quite generous, doesn’t it?”
“Yes Mistress, very generous.”
“And yet you still can’t keep your grubby little hands off of it, can you?”
Mistress smoothed her hands down her thighs before continuing.
“I tire of punishing you for the same infraction, over and over… in fact I’m starting to wonder if you enjoy being punished for your behaviour, since you seem to make so little effort to avoid it.”
I started to protest, but she held up a hand to silence me.
“No, this time I’m going to try something different, something you will find much less appealing.”
I shifted nervously on my knees once more which brought a firm rebuke from my Mistress.
“Keep still! Unless you want me to paddle your arse anyway.”
“Yes Mistress, I mean no Mistress… I am sorry Mistress.”
Mistress smirked at my obvious confusion.
“Good. I take it that you can at least assure me that you did not push yourself too far and allow yourself to enjoy an orgasm at any time?”
“Yes Mistress, I assure you, I would never do that.”
“Good slave, that pleases me greatly, but still I am determined to stop you touching what is no longer yours to touch.”
“You say you have touched my cock three times this past month, well then, I shall not touch it for three weeks. That should teach you a lesson. And if that does not work then I shall have to think of something even more drastic and draconian to influence your behaviour.”
Three weeks! I couldn’t believe it, but it was true enough that Mistress had told me time and again not to touch my cock and I had never managed to comply fully with her instructions, so I couldn’t really argue.
“Rest assured slave, if you cannot learn to control your actions I may have to take matters further and invest in something which will physically prevent you from playing with MY cock. Do you understand?”
She leaned forward now and lifted my head so that she could look me in the eyes.
“I know the idea of being locked up appeals to you slave, but I’m sure you would soon come to regret it. Just imagine the pain and frustration you would suffer as you ate my pussy night after night, trapped in your chastity belt, those little spikes digging into your engorged cock as you licked me to orgasm…”
She reached down and squeezed my throbbing cock through my jeans, noting how hard I was getting.
“…that turns you on doesn’t it, the thought of suffering at my hands?”
She stared directly into my eyes, as if trying to read my innermost thoughts.
“I don’t care if the thought of it turns you on,” she whispered. “If I decide it is necessary to implement the use of a chastity belt, be assured that you will not enjoy it as much as you think you will. I will make damn sure of that.”
I felt my chin tremble slightly as she sat back up
“Begin,” she said leaning back on the bed slightly and lifting her right foot up just a few inches away from my face.
I leaned forward and supported her foot in my hands, my cock throbbing even harder as I began to kiss her patent leather shoes.
“That’s it, worship my shoes like a good slave, a slave who knows his place…”
Her words spurred me on to worship her feet even more enthusiastically, hoping that soon she would shed her footwear and allow me to indulge myself with the taste of her bare skin. But as the minutes ticked by Mistress showed no sign of doing so, indeed she seemed to be in no hurry to bring this part of the session to any sort of conclusion.
After a while I glanced upwards to see that Mistress had rucked her mini dress up around her waist, exposing her beautiful thighs, and if that wasn’t an erotic enough sight for a man who hadn’t cum for thirty days, I also noticed that she was idly stroking her pussy through her black lingerie.
“Keep your eyes down slave,” she barked, slightly annoyed by my unauthorised peeking.
“Yes Mistress,” I gabbled between breaths, doubling my efforts to make her shoes feel thoroughly worshipped.
Abruptly she pulled her foot away and instructed me to bend down and worship the other shoe on the floor. I bent forward and began to do as instructed and I felt her rest her other foot on my back and lay back flat on the bed.
I must have stayed like that for a good ten minutes, kissing and licking the warm, shiny leather until Mistress groaned loudly and her foot shot upwards almost kicking me in the face. Once her foot had fallen back to the floor I resumed my duties as Mistress recovered from a powerful self-induced orgasm.
Finally she sat up and told me to stop and kneel up. I complied immediately, my back somewhat stiff from the awkward position I had been holding, but not as stiff as my aching cock. A month without relief had left me desperate to be allowed to cum and I would do almost anything Mistress wanted if she would just permit me that release, however depraved.
I kept my head bowed, the luscious scent of her pussy was in the air now and desperate as I was I would have gladly traded my much needed orgasm for the chance to taste her. Almost sensing what I was thinking I heard her sucking her own juices from her fingers before she leaned forward once more and planted a single delicate kiss on my lips.
“My pussy tastes so good slave, don’t you wish you could taste it properly?”
“Yes Mistress,” I said, visibly shuddering as I spoke the words.
“That’s a pity,” she said. “If you hadn’t played with my cock I would probably have let you eat me for as long as you wanted, but of course…” she tailed off leaving the sentence unfinished.
I cursed myself silently for my lack of control. Almost as if she could read my mind Mistress let out a small but evil laugh at my obvious distress.
“You want to taste me so badly don’t you slave?”
“Yes Mistress,” I sighed, the ache in my voice more than apparent.
“Not today slave.”
I must have looked absolutely heartbroken because Mistress quickly added that I should not worry as she would need my tongue soon enough. It was the first sign of compassion she had shown today.
“Stand up,” she ordered.
I rose to my feet clumsily, my legs stiff after such a long time on my knees. I stood up straight, my hands clasped behind my back as I knew she liked me to present myself. She reached forward and lifted the front of my dark blue T-shirt, felt underneath for my belt and quickly unbuckled it. Then she unbuttoned my jeans and slid them down to my knees. Beneath the hem of my T-shirt my black cotton boxers bulged as my cock finally had the room to reach it’s full height.
Mistress stood up and smoothed her mini-dress down, the material clinging to her gorgeous, full breasts. She stepped closer and kissed me full on the lips, the taste of her pussy was overwhelming and I felt my cock pulse violently. She continued to kiss me, her tongue snaking into my mouth, offering me more of that addictive taste as she gently circled the tip of my cock with her finger tip.
Then she grasped the hem of my T-shirt and lifted it over my head, exposing my upper half. I would loved to have taken the initiative and lifted her mini-dress off over her shoulders too, but knew it was not my place to do so.
“Just think,” she said reaching inside my boxer shorts and squeezing my cock rhythmically. “This is what you’ll be missing for the next three weeks… think about that next time you are tempted to touch your cock without permission.”
I groaned loudly, a mixture of pleasure and absolute frustration, the thought of being denied her touch for so long was absolute torture and she knew it.
“I’m sure the time will pass quickly,” she whispered. “And you’ll still be allowed to worship me, that should make it easier for you, shouldn’t it?”
“Yes Mistress’ I croaked, not entirely convinced.
“Are you going to touch my cock without permission again?”
“No Mistress, never.”
“Yes Mistress, I promise you.”
“Good, I knew this would be more effective than the paddle.”
“You’d take just about anything I could give you now, wouldn’t you, rather than wait three weeks to feel my fingers or my pussy on your cock?”
“Yes Mistress,” I groaned.
“What if I said you could fuck me right now, in return for six strokes of the cane?”
I hesitated a while as she gently manipulated my throbbing cock, a few drops of pre-cum dripping from the tip and soaking into the front of my boxers. As much as I wanted to be inside her and to cum hard within the tight wet warmth of her beautiful cunt, I wasn’t sure I could handle that level of pain for the privilege. Eventually I gave the only answer I felt I could give in the circumstances.
“If it pleases you Mistress.”
Sensing my reluctance, Mistress backed away and sat back down on the edge of the bed. She lifted her foot and pressed the sole against my crotch. The pressure was intensely pleasurable, but also dangerously stimulating.
“No slave,” she spat. “It doesn’t. I have no intention of letting you cum inside me today, you do not deserve such pleasure until you can learn to obey my instructions. Of course… I could cane you anyway, just for fun…”
I hoped she wouldn’t and was relieved when she added, “…but perhaps it would be better saved for a day when you actually need it.”
I thanked her profusely, I am no pain slut and the cane is something I always strive to avoid at all costs.
I felt Mistress’s foot fall away and the pressure on my crotch subside, just in time as I was leaking more pre-cum onto the cotton boxers that were protruding from my groin. Mistress leaned forward once more and hooked her fingers into the waistband of my boxers, sliding them slowly down until my throbbing, erect stalk sprang loose and hung in the air just a few inches from her mouth. She moved forward as if in slow motion until she was just millimetres away from taking me between her parted lips and then looked up at me and breathed heavily onto my twitching cock.
She pulled back, smiling wickedly and then reached for my balls. She curled her fingers behind my sack and circled the top with her finger and thumb. Her other fingers closed around the package and she began to squeeze my overflowing balls, a little harder every time. It was heavenly, but I was so close to cumming now it was becoming impossible to hold back, but I knew that I must for fear of repercussions.
Mistress brought her other hand up and started to claw at my cock with her long painted nails, the pain was exquisite and I had to warn her that if she continued I would not be able to hold back. Mistress looked up at me, and after a few more seconds of squeezing and scratching she let go, just as I started to feel myself tipping over the edge. Thankfully, somehow, my cum stalled in it’s tracks. It felt as though my cock was now primed full of cum and the slightest touch on any part of my throbbing length or balls would be enough to cause it to explode from the tip. I could almost feel it, hovering an inch from the end of my urethra, and I wondered how long I could reasonably hope to keep it there.
Mistress studied me from her position on the bed, watched as my cock throbbed and bobbed in the air, desperate for that one last stroke which would truly signal the end of my chastity period. She must have known just from looking at me that my situation was desperate and she looked as if she was enjoying every second of it.
“Don’t you dare cum without permission slave,” she warned, a hint of menace in her voice.
I somehow managed to hold back, using every trick I could think of to maintain control for those vital last few seconds.
She sat in silence for a short while, enjoying my internal struggle to obey her, before finally showing pity and ordering me to kneel once again.
I sank to my knees, the impending orgasm receding slightly as the seconds ticked by, but still my cock felt like it was full of cum and ready to explode at any second.
She reached out and squeezed my left nipple, feeling it harden under her touch. She squeezed it harder, and harder again before moving over to the other one, eventually leaving both of them tender and bullet hard.
“Three weeks slave, three long weeks without my touch… how will you cope with that?”
“I don’t know Mistress,” came my honest answer.
“Well, there’s one thing slave, you’d better not touch MY cock without permission, otherwise I will just roll that three weeks over, and I’ll keep rolling it over until I know MY cock has felt no pleasure for a whole three weeks, do you understand?”
She stared at me for at least a couple of minutes, her hard nipples clearly visible through the clingy material of her mini-dress.
“That being said… you have given me some lovely orgasms this last month and I wouldn’t want you to think that your efforts aren’t appreciated…”
“Thank you Mistress.” Her approval meant more to me than she could possibly imagine.
“Appreciated, but expected nonetheless slave!”
“Of course Mistress.”
She dragged her nails down my body, across both nipples, down across my stomach and either side of my twitching cock to the middle of my thighs, the pain was absolute heaven.
“As such, I have decided that you will be allowed to cum today slave.”
“Thank you Mistress,” I gasped, realising that I had been holding my breath and genuinely relieved that the pressure she had built up inside me would be granted release today.
“The only question is where…”
I looked up at her hopefully as she lifted the hem of her mini-dress to expose her black lacy panties.
“I already said not today,” she snarled, dropping the hem and smiling at my visible disappointment.
I lowered my gaze once more, not wishing to annoy her or jeopardize any other avenues which might currently remain open.
“I know where you’d like to cum,” she said. “And I might let you if you beg nicely enough.”
I raised my head slightly and looked up at her, unsure as to which part of her she was referring to. I was pretty sure it was either her breasts or her feet, but I knew that it was more likely to be her feet and if I begged to cum on her breasts and she meant her feet she might not allow me to cum at all. After a few seconds of deliberation I decided to play safe.
“My wonderful Mistress… may I please be permitted to cum on your beautiful feet?”
“Perhaps…” she said enigmatically. “Or, perhaps you might choose an alternative.”
I looked at her a little dumbly, confused by this new development.
“It’s up to you of course, I know you love my feet and I’m sure you would love to spray your load all over them, but…”
She paused for a moment watching me as I pictured her cum covered feet in my mind’s eye.
“…let’s not be too hasty. As it stands, you are about to begin three long weeks of complete denial… what if there was a way you could reduce that, would you be interested?”
I let the thought permeate my brain and a warning light flashed inside my head, what if she was going to offer the cane as an alternative?
“I’m not sure Mistress,” I answered cautiously.
Mistress raised an eyebrow.
“Well slave, it’s your choice, should I at least give you your options?”
“Very well slave, you may cum on my feet, but if you do then you will wait the full three weeks as previously decided. Alternatively, you may cum on my shoes, in which case your period of denial will be reduced to two weeks, or you can cum in your own hand, in which case you will only have to endure a single week. Lastly, you can choose to forego your orgasm altogether, in which case your punishment will be annulled completely.”
Mistress paused for a moment, allowing my choices to sink in before adding.
“And of course I don’t need to tell you slave, that wherever you choose to cum, if you choose to cum, you will be licking up your mess for me…”
“Yes Mistress, of course Mistress.”
The last part was no big deal for me as I had long since become accustomed to the taste of my own cum and would gladly swallow it for my Mistress at any time, indeed I could not remember the last time she had allowed me to cum without the proviso that I would swallow my cum for her.
I realised that perhaps twenty seconds had passed since Mistress had finished laying out my options and I was no nearer to making a decision. I knew that foregoing my orgasm completely was not an option, since I was still hovering perilously close to climax. Cumming in my hand would mean only seven days of waiting, but wouldn’t be nearly as satisfactory as licking my cum from Mistress’s beautiful feet, but the thought of waiting three long weeks was just too much.
“I’m waiting slave, decide quickly or I will decide for you.”
Spurred into action by Mistress’s threat I quickly made my choice and blurted out my decision.
“Shoes Mistress… please may I be allowed to cum on your shoes…”
Mistress smiled wickedly.
“Good slave, I’m pleased with your choice… I would have been disappointed if you’d taken too easy an option, so then, perhaps I could tempt you to make another decision for me?”
I looked into Mistress’s beautiful dark eyes and wondered what evil twist she had in store for me now.
“Ruin it for me and I’ll halve your punishment.”
Oh God no, she couldn’t do that, not now… but it would bring her touch that much closer, and it was clear from her voice that she wanted it, as such anything else would be putting my own pleasure before hers, and that was a novices’ error that would be bound to lead to some kind of punishment further down the line.
I swallowed hard and bowed my head.
“I will ruin it for you Mistress.”
Mistress shifted restlessly on the bed and I was sure that my absolute submission was making her pussy very wet indeed, perhaps there would be a chance for me to taste her after all.
“Good slave,” she purred as she lifted her foot up to my chest. “Take my shoes off.”
Once again I looked at her dumbly, and then the penny dropped, she had tricked me. I thought I had agreed to lick my cum off her shoes while they were still on her feet, but in actual fact…
As the realisation began to dawn on me Mistress couldn’t help but let out a giggle at my foolishness. She had set a trap and I had walked right into it and now I would have to completely humiliate myself in front of her.
I reached up and obediently unbuckled the strap at the back of Mistress’s heel, gazing longingly at Mistress’s adorable toes and the other parts of her feet that were plainly visible in the gaps between the patent leather strips that made up the shoes in question. How could I have been so stupid?
Chapter 01: The Beginning
“Shut the fuck up.” She smacked him across the face, eyes vividly glaring. “I promised you a private dance, but I didn’t say I was going to dance on your cock.” She reached down and grabbed his cock, twisting it with evil delight as she watched his eyes. He wrenched in pain, eyes now down at the floor.
“Ohhhhh, fuck,” he spat out.
Her name was Ren. A petite 21 year old girl with blonde hair that had been dyed a myriad of neon colored streaks. Standing approximately 5’3″ and probably weighing close to 100 pounds, her perky double D breasts were a considerable portion of her body weight. Her bright, sky blue eyes constantly probed her surroundings indicative of her compulsion to understand, manipulate, and control.
“I’m your worst nightmare.” Her lips were so close to his ear he could feel her warm breath.
In contrasting fashion, she released him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. As he looked up at her again, she nuzzled her nose against his and smiled playfully like a child who has made a new best friend.
“I’m only playing, baby.”
He felt like something was wrong. This chick was obviously psycho. Maybe that was what he wanted though? Fearing that he would be unable to ask her if she was ‘for hire’, he had blundered out a pathetic attempt to pick her up at the strip club. His head was now spinning with questions, a sea of uncertainty complicated by a fluttering heart and rumbling stomach. But he began to relax as she kissed his neck and nuzzled him. Her sugary cotton candy scent, Flowerbomb by Viktor and Rolf, overtook him and finally he felt himself release the tension of the fight or flight mechanism.
As if she could sense his guard dropping, she leaned back and looked him directly in the eyes. “Now, how about getting down on your knees for me?”
Before a response could be given, she rammed her knee into his crotch so hard he thought his balls were going to come up his throat. He wheezed and crumbled forward. She giggled to herself and stuck her finger in her mouth, chewing on the corner of her nail while peering down at him with fascinated blue eyes.
The dichotomy of the situation had it’s own particular beauty. A short, but well muscled and tattooed young man, kneeling and writhing in pain. He had removed his white button down shirt and shoes and was now only wearing a pair of khaki cargo shorts. In stark opposition, a beautiful creature elegantly tanned to perfection clad in a plaid school-girl miniskirt and a miniature button down top that barely covered or held her breasts. Needless to say, her shoes were five inch black heels on brushed aluminum platforms with different colored straps corresponding to the five colors in her hair and painted on her toe nails. Finely figured and toned, her body was the quintessential embodiment of feminine beauty.
“Why did you d…” he managed to squeak.
With him kneeling on his hands and knees before her, she mischievously stepped forward and placed the sole of her platforms on top of his hands, applying a moderate amount of pressure. He grimaced once more.
“You SAID you wanted a private dance. You SAID you like it rough. Was that just talk? Well I have news for you. I like having a good time, and having a good time means getting my way. You want me to have a good time, don’t you?”
She pressed some of her weight onto his hands.
“Perfect!” She giggled to herself. “You can kiss my toes now.”
He looked up at her from all fours with a look of bewilderment.
Leaning down with a benevolent smile, she ran her hand through his dark brown shaggy hair. “Come on, baby. Kiss my toes.” She wiggled her toes. He began to lower his head, hesitatingly. She gently pressed on the back of his head, urging him against his manly instincts to surrender. From a gentle push to a now controlled shove, his face was pressed against her right foot.
“Do it baby!”
He still hesitated. She giggled even more.
“Maybe I’ll give you a treat? Would you like a treat?”
She stood up and adjusted her top, reaching into a hidden pocket and retrieving a small white tablet pressed with an M. She leaned back down where her captive was still pinned to the ground by her shoes and placed the tablet between her big toe and middle toe.
“Roll with me, baby! Now kiss my toes and get your treat!”
“Aaaaaggghhhhhh” she applied more pressure to his hands.
“Do it!” She reached down and pushed his head back to where it had been before. Still unsure of what was happening, he wanted to hesitate, but he knew that whatever would happen later would be worse. If he kept fighting it would probably be unbearable. If we was on ecstasy, it might be total agony. As he felt the fight slipping away from his body, he slowly opened his mouth and kissed her middle toe.
“Gooood boy! Now get your treat.”
His tongue snaked out from his mouth and entered between her toes. She wiggled them for sheer pleasure. With his face shoved into her feet, he could smell that she had been dancing all night. But it wasn’t a disgusting smell, it was a pheromone that suddenly struck a nerve inside his body. He was on his knees, about to kiss a beautiful woman’s feet and a rush of insecurity, fear, and insane lust streaked through his body. He noticed himself getting an erection at this combination of personal terror, submission, and lust… but the lust controlled him. Am I really doing this? he thought before breathing deeply, his nose closely planted against her foot. He could feel his erection harden with each consecutive sniff.
She laughed and wiggled her toes. “Ohhh is it that easy to make you my bitch? You just want to suck on these pretty toes, don’t you? Eat your treat and you can suck on these toes.”
He touched the tablet with the tip of his tongue and could taste the bitterness of the pill, but he couldn’t dislodge it from its place. He tried different angles of licking the tablet, but could only lick the top of her foot and her toes, without retrieving the tablet. She watched, pleasurably amused by this show and her new toy’s efforts. Finally, he drove his tongue between her toes and flipped the tablet up onto his tongue, swallowing it quickly.
She clapped her hands and giggled.
“Oh yeah! Do you like this baby? Because you’re going to like it a whole lot more in half an hour.” She continued her child-like giggle, while sitting down on the hotel bed.
“Now come over here and pay homage to my beautiful little footsies. I want you to kiss, lick and clean my feet and these gorgeous shoes.”
He crawled across the floor to the edge of the bed. She was sitting with her legs crossed, so he lowered his head to nuzzle the foot in the air. As he attempted to sniff it, she pushed it back into his face. He opened his mouth, entranced with this new phenomena, and like a puppy begging for a play toy, followed her foot as she dangled it through the air.
Occasionally she would stop her foot and wiggle her toes, allowing him to kiss the top of her foot. He inhaled deeply, feeling himself get harder and then stuck his tongue between her toes as if the tablet were still there. He licked with care and caution, unsure of when she would next push back against his face. The more he kissed her foot, the less he seemed to care about getting kicked in the face.
Enchanted by this new game, he didn’t notice her uncross her legs. He followed the foot he was kissing, as her other heel rested gently on his back. Unaware of this recent development, he leaned forward to kiss her now out of reach foot. The opposing heel pressed into his back as the foot in his face lowered itself to the ground. His body unconsciously laid down on the ground, belly first.
Like a worm being crushed beneath a beautiful goddess’s heel, he was now pinned to the ground by a sharp stiletto heel, sniffing pathetically and wriggling closer to her foot. The constant giggling in the background meant that this goddess was amused at how easily her slave had been sedated and manipulated. However, she knew that the MDMA would begin to affect him in a few more minutes. She wanted something more… to make him squirm.
She sharply rapped him in the nose one time with the foot closest to his face and commanded, “Roll over, slave!”
He rolled onto his back, secretly happy that he wasn’t pressed against his own cock. The expression on his face was of a misbehaved schoolboy. The uncertainty thrilled him but at the same time made him anxious. Inevitably, the ecstasy had begun to accelerate through his system, causing him to feel waves of increased tactile sensitivity. Each touch and graze became an amplified sensation. His mind became clouded, only seeking that next rush of serotonin release.
In a slow, deliberate manner the foot which had teased him before now tapped the top of his forehead. The heel of her platform lightly dragged along the skin of his forehead, cheeks, eyes, brow, nose, and chin. She watched casually as the massive bulge in his shorts pulsed with the sensation of the light scratching. Her demeanor was gentle and caring, but the methodical tracing of his face with the weapon attached to her foot was indicative of a premeditated assault. A sigh signaled the end of this play-time as she drug the tip of her stiletto down the center of his forehead, scratching his nose, and onto his lips. It lay at rest there for a moment. The opposing heel slid down his throat, poked gently at both nipples and then followed a path down the center of his sternum where it would ultimately stop at his crotch. She wiggled the heel of the platform to help her find the exact location of his scrotum.
In this now precarious position, he once again felt the surge of adrenaline from not knowing what was happening. He was harder than ever, being at the mercy of this beautiful woman who continually toyed with him. His eyes constantly switched between looking up at her and the heels that were torturing him so well. He felt so enraptured that he wanted to make her happy. He wanted to say, “I love you!” The ecstasy was making him into a gullible, overly happy twit. But he remained trapped in his silent prison, only fondly looking up at her with adoring eyes.
“I see you haven’t cleaned my heels yet, slave.” she giggled and twirled her hair. “And you know you have to clean every part of my shoe before you get to suck on my toes!” He looked up at her expectingly.
“So clean my heels, bitch!” she screamed violently, quickly followed by her typical psychotic giggle.
She hinted at opening his mouth by prodding the stiletto into his lips. Still quizzically peering up at her, he had no time to react when she pressed her opposing spike firmly into his crotch. The heel dug straight down into his scrotum, sending a sharp pain through his groin. His body’s immediate response was to scream and jerk forward. This, however, allowed her other stiletto to enter his mouth. He practically swallowed it as his scream was muffled by the insertion of a gag. The spike pressed him back down to the ground, flat.
“You see how simple that was, foot bitch? Now keep cleaning.”
His eyes now watering from the pain and the gag reflex, he left his mouth open around the heel.
Slowly, but obediently, he closed his lips around it.
“That’s a good little foot bitch. Keep sucking on my heel!”
The now inserted heel began to oscillate up and down in his mouth. He found himself uneasily holding onto it with his lips at first, but slowly began to lose the self consciousness of the situation.
“I knew you were going to be my bitch when I first saw you,” she increased the vigorousness with which she pumped her heel in his mouth. “So I hopped on your lap and took all of your money. Now you’re here, on the ground, cleaning my shoes like a fucking good little slave.”
Her other shoe occasionally ground into his crotch. The sensation of his predicament aroused him so much he began frantically reaching for his genatalia, loosening his belt, and pulling out a massive erection.
She slammed the sole of her platform down on his dick as soon as it emerged, making a loud smacking sound in the process. He choked and gagged on the heel in his mouth again, eyes watering as before. Now bringing both heels together, she pressed them deeply beneath his chin forcing his head upward. He cried in pain but did not attempt to move, perhaps paralyzed with the extremity of sensation arising from this painful predicament. Finally allowing him to ease, she ran her hand through her neon hair and looked down at him, saying quite relaxingly, “I get off first, bitch. And since it seems you have no manners AND no morals, I suppose I will have to punish you now.” A familiar giggle followed.
One heel was pressed into his sternum as the other heel pressed strongly into his lower abdomen. She stood off the bed, balancing gracefully on top of him. The heels sunk lower into his flesh. Her arms splayed out in a balancing fashion, a satisfactory smile on her face.
“Aaaaaggggghhhhhh! Shit!” he moaned as he tried to wiggle.
Easily pinned and helpless, she couldn’t help but continue to giggle at his plight. “You see, I always win. So when I say to shut the fuck up and lick my shit, you do so without playing with your dick. Or else I will fucking stomp holes in you all night bitch ass fuck slave! Do you understand?”
He looked up at her in terror, but knowingly conceded now pinned to the ground beneath 100 pounds and two spikes. She stomped furiously, one heel after the other, into his flesh. Each time, the heels felt like a knife driving into his flesh, but each time they were withdrawn there was no puncture mark. The ecstasy amplified the experience an exponential amount, to the point he felt like he was going to come and cry every single time she stepped on him. Words were forming in his mind, but he lay there helplessly watching this enviously beautiful woman pound him with her shoes.
In a conclusive manner, she threw her hair once more and stated quite royally, “Now, do not move.” She inched closer on his chest, both heels sinking into his skin. Carefully balanced, she placed one sole in his face and pressed it forcefully to the ground. Suddenly, he knew what she was doing, but it was too late. The other heel came off his chest, the sole pressing into his lips, the heel digging into his neck. The feeling of immense pressure, combined with the stab driven into his neck literally made his entire body quake. His dick was rock hard. She stood on top of his head for some twenty seconds, like a proud warrior over a fallen foe. Ultimately, the heel slipped from his neck and lightly lacerated it as she came off of him.
Her laughter rang into his ears and through his entire body as he rolled on the floor, now unsure of the sensation pulsating through him. He saw her incredibly sexy heels walking around him, each time they hit the ground urging him to hardness. Still transfixed and entrapped by her smell, her aura of dominance, those hypnotizing heels, and her outrageous beauty, he wriggled closer to sniff her feet once more. The equilibrium of power had fully shifted to her side, allowing her to assert any form of sexual dominance she desired.
She began to think of what else she could do to make him prove that he wanted her. As her thoughts raced, she sucked on the finger she had been nibbling previously. One thought struck her as insidiously humiliating and pleasure fulfilling, and prompted her to slide her now wet finger down her back and into her ass crack.
“We still have a long night ahead of us fuck slave. I know that you’re a good foot bitch. But I’m rolling and I want to get off now. Sucking my beautiful toes won’t get me off, slave! Maybe you’re good for something else?”
To be continued…
Janet and Clarke had a pretty good sex life, right from the get go. They had that special chemistry that allowed them both to trust each other enough to be comfortable so that they could both get right down to the core of what turned them on. They both had their share of kinky things that they each liked and they always seemed to be discovering new fetishes and turn-ons. But, as comfortable as they both were with each other, there were still things that hadn’t been fully realized between them. One such thing was Clarke’s fetish for smell. Clarke really seemed to get turned on when Janet was in a sweaty mess after a long day or after some physical activity like snowboarding or rock climbing. Janet had been a bit weary of this, up until now, given that she knew how dirty she could get sometimes and her sweaty body didn’t smell so good to her. It could be very potent. But something about it turned her on. Maybe it was the feeling of her being dirty, the fact that this turned Clarke on, or maybe a combination of the two. On this night, Janet decided she would fully indulge him with this…among other things.
As they danced together at the jam packed club, Janet was busily making plans in her mind as to what she would do with Clarke once they got home. It had been a long day and she was wanting to get home. The day started with a rock climb in the hot July sun. They climbed all morning and into the afternoon. Janet could feel her bare feet throbbing in her thigh high, leather boots as she thought back to the sweltering heat of the day. The big hikers she wore on the climb with her thick socks weren’t overly comfortable and they made her feet sore and sweaty. The heat in the club was almost as bad and Janet felt as though she was sweating through her tight dress and she could feel moisture all over her body. She could feel her feet sticking to the inside of her leather boots and her cotton g-string and bra sticking to her body. She recalled getting home from the hike and barely having enough time to throw off her clothes and get changed for dinner and the club. She didn’t even have a chance to freshen up and hadn’t showered since the day before. As Clarke stood behind her, grinding into her ass, she could feel his erection through her dress and she became flushed with heat. Time to go, she thought.
It wasn’t long before they were home and sitting in the bedroom. Clarke got up and started to remove his clothes and headed for the on suite bathroom. “I’m going to take a shower,” he announced. “Don’t go away,” he chuckled. As she watched him cross the room, shirtless, Janet felt a tingle in her pussy. Clarke was a beefy guy and in excellent shape because of the active lifestyle they both shared. She never got tired of looking at him and was suddenly filled with a huge appreciation for him and gratitude for the relationship they had together. The alcohol she had consumed earlier was making her a little emotional. This is the night to go all out, she thought. This is the night I’ll give him everything he wants.
When the bathroom door closed, Janet opened the nightstand and pulled out a strap-on dildo that her and Clarke had tried to use a few times, without much success. It was about 8 inches long and 2.5 inches thick. As much as Clarke enjoyed anal sex, he just could not fit the huge dildo into his ass no matter how turned on he was. Janet knew she could help him overcome this if she just worked him up enough. And that’s just what she was going to do. The first thing she removed was her dress. As it dropped to the floor, she caught the scent of her pussy, wet with excitement and sweat from her long day. Her nose crinkled a little. God…that smells, she thought. She pulled off her bra and then her panties. She held her panties up to her eyes. She could see her sweat and pussy juice in the gusset of them. She pulled them to her nose and inhaled deeply. As she breathed in the scent of her pussy, she felt herself getting more and more wet. Leaving her boots on, she pulled the harness of the huge rubber cock up over her knees and thighs, where it came to rest on her bare, glistening mound. She tightened the waist strap and then reached back and around to the sides of her thighs to find the two hip buckles and pulled them tight around her legs. As she stood there, the long, thick cock hung down an inch or two below her waist with its heaviness. Janet widened her stance and planted her big, size 11 feet firmly on the floor. With the chunky, rubber heel on her leather thigh highs, she stood at about 6 feet tall. She was a tall, slender Goddess, about to give her man the fucking of his life.
Janet lazily settled down to the bed and laid back. As she looked down, admiring the huge cock now attached to her, she raised her right hand to her chest and pinched her left nipple. As she pinched, harder, her left hand found her cock and she stroked it, gently. She squeezed her nipple and her cock with equal pressure as she suddenly heard the water stop in the shower. Moments later, the door opened and Clarke appeared.
“Hi there,” Janet giggled, as his astonished eyes met hers. She grinned as she placed four of her long, slender fingers into her mouth and began to suck them. They emerged, shiny with her saliva and she placed them on her cock and began to jerk it. Her shiny blue nails sparkled as she worked her thick cock.
“Holy fucking shit…” Clarke mumbled.
“Why don’t you come over here and stand in front of me,” she coyly said, staring at the towel around Clarke’s waist.
Clarke wandered over to the bed and stood, looking down at her. She got to her feet and faced him. He could feel the head of her cock pressed against his towel. His cock was rapidly filling with blood and his heart was pounding. “Kneel down,” Janet said, firmly.
Clarke obeyed and got down on his knees. He was staring right into the head of a massive dildo, attached to a slender and glistening wet female Goddess. As she looked down at him, she raised her right hand towards his face. In it was her cotton g-string. “You know…I’ve had these on for two days now. Did you know that? And I have to say…they are pretty dirty. See how they are all wet and stained? I bet you would like to smell them, wouldn’t you? In fact, I know you would. I know this because you are a fucking loser, aren’t you?”
“Uh…yes Janet, I am,” Clarke stammered as he cleared his throat. “Yes ma’am, I am a loser.”
“That’s right,” Janet replied. “Only a loser would want to smell my panties. They stink sooo bad. Well…go ahead then, bitch. Smell my stinky panties.”
Janet tossed her panties at Clarke’s face and they landed against his nose. He grabbed them and pushed the wet gusset to his nose. He could feel the moisture on his septum and he breathed in, deeply. Her two day old panties smelled so good. He could smell her pussy juice, urine and her hot sweat at the same time. There was a small hint of his cum on them as well from having fucked her the night before. It was incredible. His cock was throbbing and pre-cum was oozing out, onto the floor.
“Well, that got your attention didn’t it?” Janet said with a smirk. “It makes me sooo horny, seeing you like this. I want you to suck my cock. Would you like that, bitch? You want me to fuck your face? Open your mouth…”
Clarke closed his eyes, still clutching the dirty panties. Janet grabbed the back of his head and slowly brought the tip of the dildo to his mouth. “Stick your tongue out,” she quipped. Clarke opened his mouth and she pushed the cock deep into his mouth until he gagged. She pumped the cock into his throat with a nice bucking rhythm and firm pressure. “Yeah, suck it hard you little cock slut,” Janet moaned. “Suck my fucking cock.”
Janet was so turned on by now that she could feel the juices from her pussy running down to her asshole. She wanted him to eat her pussy badly but this was about him tonight. She pulled her cock out of his mouth and motioned for him to get up. When he stood, she jammed her tongue into his mouth and sucked his lips. She was ravenous for him and she reached down, grabbing his, now swollen, 8 inch cock. She rubbed her thumb over the head of it, smearing it with pre-cum. She then wrapped her long fingers around him and squeezed him hard while slowly stroking him from back to front. She continued to do this as they kissed and more and more pre-cum flowed out of him. Unable to keep going, she leaned back, away from him, and pushed him onto the bed. She grabbed his legs and pulled him toward her until his ass was hanging over the edge of the bed. She paused to put her fingers in her mouth to taste his warm, salty pre-cum. It was so fucking good.
“Spread that ass for me you little slut,” she commanded. Clarke did as he was told and Janet knelt before him. He suddenly felt her warm, wet tongue touch his tight hole. “Mmm,” she moaned. “Your asshole tastes so fucking good. I love tongue fucking your ass.” Janet worked his asshole like a pro. She forced her tongue as deep into his ass as she could. She took turns licking his hole and bobbing up and down on his massively swollen cock. Once Clarke’s asshole was full of her saliva, she focussed more on his cock. As she sucked the pre-cum out of him, Clarke felt a fingertip at the entrance to his ass. Janet rubbed her long middle finger up and down the crack of his ass, making it nice and slippery. Suddenly, he felt the tip of her finger slip past the opening of his tight anus and then go deep into him, to the knuckle. He exhaled deeply as his tight asshole spasmed around her finger and another drip of pre-cum squeezed out of the tip of his cock, into her waiting mouth. He settled against her knuckle and ground himself into her hand as she sucked him hard and began rhythmically fucking his asshole with her finger. After a few moments, Janet stood. She leaned over Clarke until they were face to face. She took the finger she had had in his ass and used it to force open his mouth. She then opened hers, and dumped a mouthful of his own pre-cum into his mouth. As he sucked her finger, the taste of his asshole and salty pre-cum was driving him insane.
“Now…,” Janet said, devilishly. “Now I’m going to fuck you in your ass you fucking bitch. Turn over!” Janet grabbed Clarke and helped him get on his hands and knees. His chest and face were flat against the bed and he stuck his ass up high in the air. When she came behind him, he could feel the big cock brush the underside of his own. “Now my little bitch, I have a surprise for you,” Janet grinned. She reached into the harness of the strap-on and started rubbing her wet pussy. She was dripping wet with pussy juice and sweat. After making her fingers wet, she rested the tip of the cock against Clarke’s asshole and reached around to his face. She smeared her dirty fingers all over his face. “Smell that, you fucking loser,” Janet whispered . “Smell my stinky cunt.” And with that, she moved her hand to cover Clarke’s mouth and slowly began to push the head of her thick cock into his asshole. He moaned hard against her hand in protest but she wasn’t having it. “I’m going to fuck your asshole you little cunt and you’re going to take all of my cock,” Janet hissed. “Ohhh yeah,” Janet moaned as she pushed the head of her cock past his sphincter and deeper into him. Clarke pushed back against her, desperately trying to stretch his ass open to ease the pain of her fucking him. As he moaned harder against her hand, she pushed on, even deeper into him. “Shhh…”, Janet whispered. “Be a good little slut and take your masters’ cock. Do you like me fucking you, you loser? Show me how much you love fucking my big, fat cock. Stretch that little man hole for me. Open that fucking asshole you bitch.”
With those words, something in Clarke let go. Something instantly released in him and he knew it was now or never. Janet felt it as well and they both knew what was coming. Clarke took a deep breath and pushed back against her cock. Janet grabbed his hips and thrust forward, into him. The full length of her cock was now deep inside of his asshole. Janet grabbed onto his hips, tightly and began to pound his asshole faster and faster. She bucked harder into him when the rim of his ass touched the base of her huge cock. She repeatedly pounded him. Clarke felt her cock deep within him, occasionally pushing hard against his prostate. Pre-cum was flowing freely out of him with each long, deep thrust of Janet’s cock. That huge, thick cock that was now pounding and stretching his tight little asshole beyond his wildest dreams. Taking one hand away, she grabbed a handful of his hair and pulled him up off of his knees until he was nearly vertical. Janet leaned over his ear and whispered, “Now you can cum you fucking freak.”
She slowly pulled the dildo out of Clarke’s ass and turned him over on his back. “Now…” Janet quipped. “I have to get these boots off. They are killing my feet.” Janet jumped up onto the bed and stood over Clarke. He watched her take off the massive rubber cock that she had just fucked him with and lay it aside. He was looking up at soaking pussy, just above his face. “You know…” Janet said, I haven’t showered since yesterday and I hiked all day in boots and socks and I’ve been barefoot all night in these ones. Do you know what that means you little bitch? It means that my feet are going to stink really bad. Do you like that you loser? Do you like to smell my stinky feet?”
Janet proceeded to unzip her big leather boots, one at a time and then removed them both. The smell of feet in the room was instant. “Oh…my…God,” Janet said, pretending to be disgusted. “My feet stink so fucking bad. Here you fucking loser, smell that foot stink.” Janet pressed her right foot to Clarke’s face as he breathed in her foot odor. It was making him incredibly horny and he started to jerk off his cock. Sensing that he was about to lose his mind, Janet chimed in, mockingly. “I don’t get it,” she said. “What kind of loser would you have to be to get off on sweaty, dirty, stinky feet?” Janet pulled her foot away from Clarke’s face and began to kneel onto his face in the reverse cowgirl position. “Well,” Janet said, “You’re the biggest loser I know so I guess that answers my question.” Janet just sat there for a moment, her pussy hovering a few inches over Clarke’s face. Her pussy lips were thick and meaty. Clarke could smell her sweet, wet cunt ad he admired her long, luscious pussy lips.
“So do you wanna cum now?” Janet said warmly. ” You wanna shoot a big, thick load for me? Well I’ll let you but I want you eat me first. I have to warn you though, it might be pretty nasty down there. After all, you did dump a load in my pussy last night and I haven’t showered since yesterday. Do you think you can handle that you like fucking slut?” The question, of course, was rhetorical and Janet lowered her pussy onto Clarke’s face. “Mmm….yeah….” Janet cooed. “Lick my pussy good. Do you like the way it tastes. I’m sooo wet for you. Can you smell it? Do you like smelling my dirty pussy? You want to lick my dirty asshole. Mmm…yeah baby, tongue my fucking asshole while you smell that stinky cunt. Mmmm yeah it stinks so bad…”
At this point, Clarke was jerking his cock furiously as he ate Janet’s pussy and asshole. He sucked her thick, swollen cunt into his mouth. Her tangy flavor, mixed with her sweat was intoxicating. She knew he wouldn’t last much longer. So she then backed off of him and reached forward to grab his ankles. She helped pull his legs back over his head until his cock was dangling above his own face. “Now you little slut,” Janet said. “Now you’re going to cum in your own mouth.” As Clarke began to jerk his cock harder, Janet pushed two fingers down into his asshole. As she fucked him deep with her long fingers, she rubbed her free hand on her pussy and slipped a finger into her own ass. She came almost right away. After her orgasm subsided, she rubbed her hand all over his face and under his nose. “Here you fucking loser,” Janet laughed. “I know this is what you want.” Janet took the finger she had had in her asshole and placed it in Clarke’s mouth. “Now,” Janet proclaimed, “Jerk that big cock for me. Jerk that cock while you suck my nasty ass off of my finger. You like that taste you little cock slut? Can you smell my cunt on your face now? My nasty, stinky cunt? Smell that dirty, sweaty, stinky cunt hole while you cum.” Janet leaned back a little and placed her feet over Clarke’s mouth. “Do you like that too, loser?” She snickered. “You want to smell my dirty, stinky toes while you cum for me? Smell them then, you weirdo. Smell my stinky feet.”
At this point Clarke couldn’t hold on any longer. He opened his mouth wide and unleashed a torrent of milky white cum into his waiting mouth and all over his face and Janet’s feet. Several shots of thick semen ran between her toes and down his throat. The sharp texture of his hot jizz burned his mouth. It tasted so good that he swallowed as much as he could. When he had stopped cumming, Janet leaned down and kissed him deeply, her tongue driving deep into his mouth from between her own toes. She greedily licked the hot, salty cum off of his tongue and her own feet as she smelled her wet, stinky cunt all over his face and her sweaty, stinky feet.
It was the best sex they ever had.