Time flies, and it has been way too long since Mistress has had a session that is all about the FOOT.  The pretty female foot, in all its curvy, splendid beauty.

While I have a hard time resisting the administering of corporal punishment when I have a nice, naked slave at my feet, I did hold back.  After all, he had one interest.  Not pain.  Not humiliation.  Not bondage.  Not testing of his limits, which I am so experienced at doing.  No..... he had seen my pretty feet on my website, had daydreamed about them (for too long, if you ask me) and then, when the urge finally could not be controlled any longer, he picked up the phone and called for an appointment.

He was polite, smart and already a fan of my feet.  I usually put new potential submissives through a phone conversation before they have any opportunity of meeting me.  He was a little nervous.  I'm so used to speaking with my regular clients that I can be impatient with strangers and often, they do not make it past a brief conversation and a "no thanks" from the busy domme.  But he made it through because I could tell he was a good sort, and he was immediately taken with my feet the moment he arrived for his session.  I wore a pair of nicely revealing peep-toe pumps, just to torment him upon meeting me.  The shoes served their purpose well, because he had a hard time forcussing his gaze on anything but my feet.  Poor dear.

He followed my instructions and after disrobing to show his obedience to the domme, he kneeled before me.  I let him run his hands over my feet. It was a nice sensation, since my feet love to be massaged.

His fingers were skilled enough -- not Olympic caliber finger strength, because he did grow a bit tired -- but he was serviceable, at least for my purposes.

Soon, he was in an ecstasy of desire.  He sighed heavily as he sat down on his bare ass on the floor, cradling my foot in his hands.  He asked permission to kiss my feet.  It was granted.

His kisses were soft and gentle, really nice and submissive.  I looked down to watch, but his eyes were shut nearly the entire time.  He not only sighed but gave soft moans as my toes covered his nose, mouth, eyes, and patted his forehead.  It was as if he had been dreaming about this moment.  And then, it came true!  He had a far-away gaze in his eyes when I told him to "Snap out of it!"

After a good portion of time caressing and kissing and massaging my feet, I then made him wash them.  He got a large bowl of warm water and soap from my kitchen where I had left them.  He then lovingly glided the soap around my toes, then let his slick soapy hands swish over every inch of my feet and toes.  He was more attentive, as time went on, which was a positive for me, since obedience is not simply expected but absolutely required by myself.

When my feet were clean, I ordered him to pour a tall glass of warm, clean water over them.  I splashed him a bit, ha ha ha.  Then, he picked up the pink and white striped towel on the floor beside him and gingerly patted my feet dry.  He was breathing heavily, to have this much time with feet this shapely and desireable.  It was as if my feet were teasing him and tormenting him.  He could touch them, and even hold them in his hands.  But they would never belong to him.

It was a chilly, overcast November afternoon, but even in his nakedness, he was warm and glowing, so close to my feet, as he rested his face into the toes.  It was beautiful to watch!  I moved my toes back and forth, over his closed eyellids, softly, but with a firm touch.

Then, I stood up and ordered him to lie down on his back.  "I'm going to trample you, poor thing," I said.  He tensed his muscles up,to handle the weight of my body on him.  I walked all over his thighs and body, making him groan both with pleasure and pain.  I could tell how delicious it was for him as he moved his head back and forth.  My feet pressed down into his flesh as I moved back and forth and over him.  My feet felt great!

I had to laugh, I admit, at his own passion for my feet.  I'm pretty heartless, when it comes down to it.  You're never sure of my next move, and that's just the way it is.

I stepped off of him, and he came back to his senses.  Then, I ordered him to roll over.  His back was wide and muscular, so I had a field day, trampling and trodding on his sore muscles.  It was like walking on a living carpet, my bare soles curving up and down against his muscles, the toes resting lightly at his shoulders, then bearing my weight down on his upper arms..... all the while, my soft and delicate feet were touching him, bare feet to bare shoulders, back, thighs.

When I had done having sport with him, I stopped.  I was still standing on his body.  I jumped up and down alittle bit on his back and he groaned softly and said, "Oh mistress, that feels so good."

I jumped up and down a bit harder and this time, he could not speak, he was that overcome with sensation and emotion, and a combination of the two.

"Get on your knees!" I barked.

He was still in the zone.  He could barely hear me when I spoke to him.  Useless slave!  I don't like having to repeat myself.

He finally left his dreamy haze and got up onto his knees.

I finished our session by making him bend over completely and kiss each foot, back and forth, as I wiggled my toes with enjoyment.

 

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