“Yes, Mistress, thank you, Mistress.”
“You love being my pathetic little footslave, don’t you!”
“Yes, Mistress, I love being your footslave.”
I could feel her feet resting on my back, feeling so powerless with her sitting above me, using me as her pathetic foot stool.
I kept my uncomfortable position below her feet for so long my knees began to pain, but I knew I was pleasing my Mistress so I didn’t move a muscle until my Mistress commanded me to. Lifting her feet from my back, she placed her right foot on my shoulder and harshly pushed me back, tugging the leash to ensure I was in an upright kneeling position.
“You would love to smell my feet, wouldn’t you, footslave? You’d love to stick your nose between my toes and savor them!”
She held her foot just inches from my face. I was mesmerized by her bare sole.
“Beg for it, slave, beg! Beg to sniff my foot. I know how much you want to, don’t you, footslave?”
“Please, Mistress, please allow me to smell your beautiful feet.”
Then, wrapping the leash around her wrist, she pulled it hard, bringing my face to her foot. My nose buried in her toes, they smelled divine. I wanted so badly to begin kissing and licking but knew to restrain myself for fear of being punished, and my privileges, whatever ones I had, would be withdrawn. I audibly sniffed at her toes, breathing it all in, with my Mistress smirking down at me. After some time, with my nostrils full of the scent of my Mistress’s bare feet, my Mistress uttered the words I longed to hear.
“Would my little footslave like to worship my feet? I think my slave would like to kiss and lick my beautiful, sexy feet, wouldn’t you, slave!”
“Oh yes, please, please let me worship your feet.”
“Please what!”
“Please, Mistress, please let me worship your feet.”
“I want to hear you beg, slave. Grovel at my feet and beg like a proper footslave!”
“Oh please, Mistress, I am your pathetic footslave. Please allow me to worship your beautiful feet, please let me lick your beautiful soles, and kiss your toes. P-l-e-a-s-e, Mistress.”
She looked down at my face, which was strained from the teasing and torment that her feet were inflicting on my mind and my raging hard-on. She crossed her legs yet again, dangling her foot inches from my face. She realized the power her feet had over me and relished using it. She teasingly wiggled her red toenails right in front of my face.
“I said tongue out, footslave, tongue out at all times! I want you to look like my pathetic slaveboy ready to serve me when I allow you. Is that understood!”
“Yes, Mistress, sorry, Mistress.”
I immediately stuck my tongue out as far as it could go, waiting in anticipation of planting the first kiss on her beautiful feet. Then, lifting her foot up, her bare soles hovered just above my head. I tilted my head back, following her every move with my eyes and salivating tongue. She continued to move her foot above my head, swirling just out of reach. I felt so powerless, kneeling on the floor with my hands bound and a slave collar around my neck, following my Mistress’s feet as they moved from side to side and up and down, like a cruel game to tease her eager footslave.
“Would you like to kiss them, foot slave?”
She said as she brought her foot to within half an inch of my tongue.
“Oh yes, please, please, Mistress, please let me kiss your beautiful feet.”
“You may kiss my feet.”
This was the moment I had been waiting for. Shuffling on my knees, my face edged closer to her bare foot and pouted my lips ready to plant kisses on her divine feet. My lips made contact with the center of her soft sole. I held my lips on her foot and closed my eyes to show gratification for this gesture my Mistress had granted me. Then I started kissing all over the soles of her feet. I was overwhelmed with arousal and kissed feverishly, feeling possessed by her naked foot on my lips. Then I began to kiss her toes as she moved them towards my mouth, kisses only, even though I yearned to lick them. I kissed each toe slavishly, savoring the touch of her toes that I craved so much. I kissed both feet all over, from the edge of the PVC catsuit, down her slender ankles, around her heels, along her soles, and to each one of her beautifully pedicured toes.
“That’s enough for now, footslave.”
“Yes, Mistress, thank you, Mistress, thank you for the privilege of allowing me to kiss your beautiful feet, Mistress.”
With that, she withdrew her foot from my lips and calmly rested both feet on the floor in front of me. I bowed my head, knowing that it was my duty to look down at her feet at all times as I was her humble footslave and was there only to serve her feet.
Foot Cleaning and Caged Tease
“Now, footslave, I’m getting tired of sitting down, so I’m going to go for a little walk around the room, and you, slave, are going to follow my every step along the floor. I want you on all fours trailing behind me, with your tongue out, and as I take a step, you will lick the sole of my foot as I offer it to you, licking the dirt from my sole and keeping my feet soft and clean at all times. Is that understood, footslave!”
“Yes, Mistress, thank you, Mistress.”
She placed her right foot on the crown of my head and forcefully brought me down so my elbows touched the cold concrete floor, my hands still bound to my neck dragged my head with them. Grabbing the leash, she stood up from her throne, taking one step to the right of me. From my lowly position, I could see only the floor and the sight of her amazing foot adorned with ankle bracelet and cherry red toes.
As she moved, I followed, on all fours right behind her. As she took a step, she slowly and seductively raised the sole of her foot behind her, looking back over her shoulder to ensure I completed my duty correctly. With outstretched tongue, I started at the tip of her toes and licked all the way up to her heels. With every slow step she made, my lapping tongue licked in unison, cleaning off any dust or dirt that might blemish her immaculate soles.
After walking around the room with her footslave following pathetically behind, she finally stopped in front of a cage. It wasn’t more than four feet high with cold vertical iron bars running down to meet the concrete floor. Affixed to the top of the cage was a long, padded black leather cushion, for my Mistress to lie on, no doubt. In the center of the cushion, there was a small circular hole, not big enough to allow a footslave’s head out but big enough to allow Mistress’s foot in.
The door of the cage opened before me.
“Crawl into your cage, footslave.”
On all fours, I awkwardly entered the daunting, cramped space. Then, without warning, the steel door shut behind me, making a loud clang, with Mistress securing the bolt to keep her slave captive. I knelt inside the cage, feeling so vulnerable but yet so excited. My cock was still hard, and my chained hands could not reach my swollen cock to allow any pleasure, not that I would be allowed to touch my cock even if I wanted to; that wasn’t my choice to make. I was a humble footslave, and my foot Mistress made all my decisions for me now.
Mistress sat on the side of the cage with her legs dangling over the side. Her heels were close to me but outside of my reach, tongue access hampered by the iron bars. All the same, I knelt there with my tongue extended and available as the willing footslave I had become.
Then my Mistress sat on top of the cage. For the first time, I couldn’t see her or her feet, and I felt alone and degraded to be kneeling naked in a cage in a dark dungeon, with my mind and my cock being teased by a powerful woman and her bare feet that ultimately controlled me. From above my head, my Mistress began to speak,
“What’s my little footslave waiting for? Are you waiting for my feet, slave!”
“Oh yes, Mistress, please allow me to see your beautiful feet.”
“Beg, foot slave, beg for the privilege of looking at my feet. I know that’s all you want. Your little foot fetish is insatiable, isn’t it, slave? You can’t function without thinking and yearning for my beautiful feet!”
“Oh yes, Mistress, I beg you, please allow me to look at your feet, p-l-e-a-s-e, Mistress.”
Then from above, her dainty foot slid through the narrow hole above my head, and she gently placed her bare foot in my shackled hands, her sole resting in my palms. I quivered at the sight of her sexy red toes.
“You may hold my feet for me, slave. You may look at them, and you may beg for them, but you will not be allowed to kiss or lick them until I allow you – is that understood, footslave?”
