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Ass

This story came about after meeting a new friend on AOL. We talked, and by her screen name I knew she had a fetish for having her feet worshiped. After a little talk and some rather hot cyber, she told me about her fantasies and asked me to write a story for her. I have been sending her this in small chapters for about three weeks. Now that it is finished, I have sent her the full unedited copy, then changed some names, and given it to you. I hope you enjoy it everyone…

* * * * *

You walk through your front door, closing it behind you, setting your keys on the table there for just that purpose. Another day at the office finished, another dollar earned. Flicking the light on you freeze. A man kneels before you, someone you have never seen before. Your first instinct is fear, who is he, what is he doing here? What does he want? But you pause for a second, looking into his wanting hazel eyes. Could it be….?

“Rogahh?” You ask.

I slide down lower, bowing my head towards your feet,

“Yes Mistress, its me.”

You laugh,

“What are you doing here?”

By answer, I lean forward, taking your foot into my hand. You place a hand on my shoulder to steady yourself as I slip the black patten leather flat off your glorious toes, placing it to one side.

“Your feet look tired mistress, may I service them?”

You pause for another second, could this really be happening? Was I really here? Then,

“Yes Footboy, you may.”

I remove your other shoe, setting them side by side next to your door. With both of your feet flat on the floor, I proceed to kiss the deep red nail of each toe, left to right on each foot. I can smell the sweat from a long day trapped in those shoes, no one there to massage you, to give your feet the attention they crave. I kiss the top of them, licking slightly on each kiss, moving slowly towards your ankles. My lips kiss each ankle in turn, sucking briefly on each. I look up at you,

“Mistress, I so wish to suck on your toes, may I?”

You are stunned, is this finally happening? All that time wanting it so badly and now it’s come to pass? Your own foot slave?

“Yes, Footboy,” You say to me, “But not here, take me to my bedroom. It will be much more comfortable for me there.”

I stand before you, my erection tenting my pants,

“May I carry you Mistress?”

You smile at me, not believe how wet you are getting,

“Yes, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

With that I scoop you into my arms, sweeping you off your tired, sexy feet, kissing you with a burning passion you have never felt before. As I walk towards your bedroom door you return my kiss, wrapping your arms around my neck. Your nipples are hard, you are beginning to feel so hot, and I haven’t even sucked on your toes yet.

‘What pleasures’, you wonder, ‘does my very own bedroom hold for me?’

I carry you through the halls of your own house, seeming to know exactly where I am going, not once asking for your direction. The door to your chamber lies ajar. In the otherwise darkened hallway, an erotic flickering light caresses the walls and floor before it. The effervescent fragrance of roses waif to your nose, causing you to take a deep breath, smelling for the first time my foreign scent. The scent of maleness, the smell of something new, something that was all yours. As I walk slowly past the threshold into your inner sanctum, you stare in awe at the new decor. The room is dim, lit only by two tall silver candelabras, each holding six long obsidian candles. At first you think the scent of roses must come from these, then you see your bed. Gone are your practical sheets and comforter. In their place are black silk sheets, on which rest handfuls of red rose petals. The corner of your bed is covered by a black rectangular box, a silver ribbon tied into a careful bow on opposite corners. More roses fill a vase resting on your night stand, they seem out of place next to the strange equipment there; A pair of sliver clips on the end of one foot of steel chain, a glass bottle stoppered with a white cork, filled with a pinkish liquid, a black leather riding crop, a thick black rubber dildo, at least ten inches in length and an inch and a half in girth, and last but not least, a final sash of black satin. You notice, while your bed is covered in the crimson petals, not one ruby flower lies on your bedroom’s floor. How long had I been here? How had I known when to set this up?

I stop at the foot of your bed, gazing down into your eyes,

“Mistress, would you like to slip into something more comfortable?”

You stare in silence for a second, still in a state of shock, then answer,

“Yes slave, I would love to get out of these awful clothes. “

I set you down, standing you in front of your bed, then drop to my knees, the top of my head nestled directly where your pubic hair would begin,

“Perhaps you’d like to open my gift to you first?” Turning your head, you drop your gaze to the black bahis siteleri box resting behind you.

Slipping from your dominatrix characterization, you innocently ask,

“What is it?”

I reach around you, my forearm brushing your left buttock, that little touch sending shivers down your spine, and take the package, lifting it carefully as to not scatter any of the petals under it. I hold it at your waist level in front of you,

“Please open it Mistress, I picked it out just for tonight. I hope you like it.” The mention of your title snaps you back into the proper frame of mind.

You pull on the end of each bow, unknotting them, they flutter to the floor beside my legs, the candle’s light causing them to dance like silver fire. Lifting the cardboard top away, you see only black rice paper, concealing the gift below. Dropping the lid, you part the paper, making the dry crackling sound heard only on those birthdays, Christmases, and anniversaries living in your memories. From inside you remove a black lace waistcoat. Holding it up in the limited light, you notice that it is translucent, letting the candle’s warming light pass directly through it, catching only the darkness of the solid swirls designed in. At the base of the low cut V-neck, you see a single pearl button; It is the only fastener you can find. Draping it over the side of the box, you reach back inside, withdrawing the other half of the outfit: A sexy, black thong panty, made of the same material as the waistcoat. Your smile has widened to what you’d once thought was impossible proportions, you just can’t wipe it away.

“It’s…..Perfect, unbelievably sexy,” Checking the tag you see it is in your exact size, “You have done well Footboy.”

You replace the two piece neglige back into its box, then stare back down into my amber eyes,

“As your reward for being so clever in pleasing your new Mistress, Slave, you may dress me.”

You see my cool veneer of servitude crack as I smile as broadly as you are, I try to contain it, but it is to no avail,

“Thank you Mistress, I would love that.”

You regain control of your smile as you feel that soaring feeling of having trumped my plans,

‘You may have planed all this’ , you think to yourself , ‘but I still have some surprises in store for you on your unexpected visit.’

I place the box containing this evening’s casual wear onto the floor beside you, then precede to undress you. I unfasten your dress, letting it slide down your thighs slowly, holding it up with my hands, my fingers gently massaging your legs through its material. Down to your slender ankles it bunches on the floor. Grasping your feet softly, I lift each out of the circle of fabric. I drop my head, kissing your foot passionately, my tongue probing between each toe. Moving my lips up, I lick the top of your foot, running my hot, wet tongue over your sensitive ankles. You moan softly, feeling the juices flowing more freely from your pussy, wetting the crotch of your cotton panties. I look back up as you moan, my eyes caressing every part of your body as they rise to meet your own,

“Your feet taste so good Mistress ,” I say as your smile returns, “I can’t wait until you let me worship them properly.”

Looking down on me, you narrow your eyes playfully,

“The sooner you dress me, Slave, the sooner I may let you worship me.”

My muttered apology is lost to you as your mind screams to you,

‘Oh god, how can he know how to get to me like this from just one night in a chatroom?’

Your nipples are so hard they feel almost painfully sensitive, even the soft cups of your bra is nearly too much to bear as your bosom heaves from your heightened state of arousal. Your toes are curling in anticipation of my tongue’s attention, the still warm wetness of my saliva rapidly evaporating between your toes, from your ankles. Your pussy is ablaze; Your wetness had long since seeped out of you, darkening the crotch of your white panties to a tightly clinging grey prison. Soon you know your feminine liquids will be coursing down your thighs, dripping to the floor. My hands rise to the top button of your blouse, deftly unfastening it, my fingers moving effortlessly between your cleavage, whispers of my fingertips touching your belly. I place my hands on your hips, running them up your ribs, under your open shirt. I draw a line of pleasure to the swell of your breasts, my hands pausing to cup them, thumbs tweaking your oh so hard nipples. Then my palms slide over your shoulders, slipping the garment off your back, down your arms, pausing at your wrists. I pull your blouse slightly, pinning your hands to your sides for the moment my mouth finds your belly, my lips fluttering around like hot butterfly wings, my tongue tracing soft circles, finding your navel, exploring it gently. You feel a jolt of pure pleasure shoot through you; It’s like I had reached directly into you, licking your G-spot from inside your tight, wet, pussy. Then you’re free, my mouth canlı bahis siteleri gone, your blouse on the floor behind you.

My fingers slide under the waistband of your panties, tugging them down slowly, exposing your smooth, shaved pelvis. Down, down, around your ankles they go, my eyes locked onto yours the whole time. I lift each foot again, sucking firmly on their big toe as I finally remove your panties, long since soiled by your arousal. Kneeling at your sexy feet, I move my gaze over your body, taking every inch of you into my mind, filling every unfulfilled fantasy’s female role with your perfect form.

“You are so beautiful Mistress ,” I say with utter conviction, “From head to toe, you are simply breathtaking.”

I remove the thong from its box, lifting each flawless foot into the legs, then slide it up your smooth thighs, perching it high on your hips. Turning around, you hold your arms slightly away and behind you. I stand, your delicate new waistcoat in my strong hands, slipping your hands into its short sleeves, my fingertips teasing their way up the backs of your arms. They reach around and fasten the single pearl button. Looking down at yourself, you see the top is cut so that it displays your midriff, the ends resting on your hips.

You turn, my arms still encircling your shoulders, looking up into my face, your eyes shifting focus from one of my amber irises to the other, searching. You raise your arms, slipping them under mine, and coil them around my neck, pulling me into a close embrace. As our lips meet my hands drop to your waist, pulling you closer. You loop your leg through mine, running your toes up and down my calf, my raging hard-on poking your belly. We seem to kiss for an hour, but finally you pull away, opening your eyes at last, you smile,

“Mmmmm…I hope that didn’t tire your mouth with that kiss,” You say, teasing my lips with one manicured fingernail, “You still have to show me your adoration in the only way I’m going to let you. Now put me on the bed and strip, I don’t want to see you dressed for the rest of your visit.”

I set you down on your back in the center of the rose covered mattress, watching intently as you prop yourself up on you elbows. I remove my clothing quickly, folding it hastily, and placing it at the foot of your bed. You admire me for a moment standing at your feet, gazing down at your with the glazed look of unadulterated worship.

‘He might as well be staring at a God,’ you think silently, ‘Or a Goddess.’

You raise one soft foot from the bed, flicking the head of my swollen member with one scarlet toenail,

“Very nice, my little footstool, the way you act though, I thought you’d be hung a little better. But this will do Slave.” You remark as you raise your foot higher, towards my mouth. You drop your gaze back to my penis, while not huge, it isn’t tiny either. It seemed to be almost the same size as your foot, a lady’s 7. You smile again,

“Your night is just beginning Footboy, I hope you had a lot of rest, because you are going to need every ounce of it.”

I take your foot into my hands, moving my knees onto the foot of your bed, I reply

“Yes Mistress .”

My hands roam over every inch of your sexy feet, stroking from the top of your calf, down behind your ankle, squeezing your heel. My fingers tickle the sweet sole, caress your sensual arch, causing your toes to point, touching my stomach. My thumb finds that sensitive spot under your toes, right where they meet the rest of your foot, rubbing firmly there. My left hand continues to massage you there as my right reaches around your hamstring, softly circling the tiny nubs of your ankles, I gaze down at you,

“Mistress, your feet are so perfect, may I suck on your toes now?”

Uncharacteristically giddy, you simply nod.

Ducking my head, I take your little toe into my mouth. The tip of my tongue presses gently against it, flexing its joint between my lips. You moan softly, leaning back into your silken pillow, hair billowing out behind you. I roll my tongue around the tiny digit, sucking more firmly, then open my mouth wider to take its neighbor in also, introducing it to my hot, eager to please lips. I move slowly down your foot, tasting each sexy toe as I go, sucking them into my mouth one by one. Soon, too soon for you, I release them. The wetness of my lips allowing you to feel the cool air of your room like never before. I push my tongue out from my mouth, parting each of your angelic toes with it, licking softly between each, rolling over the hard, smooth, red polish to move to the next in line. I run my tongue down your big toe, over the red polish, past its cuticle, down your metatarsus, very near the edge of your foot. My slick massage roams up to your sexy ped, curving off, a sucking kiss returning to the delicate area of your ankle at last. Then around it goes, my lips embracing the base of your rounded heel, my tongue tracing a figure eight along your sole and arch.

You canlı bahis smile, enjoying the sensation of my skillful mouth worshiping your beautiful foot. Yet your other foot lies neglected on the sheets, it’s pretty toes spreading and clenching before my knees. Raising it slowly, you point your toes hard, running your big toe up over my stomach, careful not to touch my dripping member. I had not yet done a satisfactory job of worshiping you, so you would give me no reward until I did. Farther up your toes travel, finding my nipple, catching it and twisting it gently at first, then harder. I moan into your arch, my voice vibrating through your bones, and you twist harder. My mouth sucks on the ball of your other foot, my teeth closing to nibble the meaty sole there. Releasing my nipple, dropping your foot, you tickle my pubic hair, just above my cock, running your toes through it, still keeping enough distance away as to not touch it directly. My now biting mouth moves down, teeth lightly pinching the tender flesh of your arch. You gasp, feeling my nipping shoot directly towards your aching pussy, causing a phantom touch directly on your clit.

“Harder,” You command, “Harder, Footboy.”

I bite harder, allowing my teeth to linger in your flawless sole, rubbing my teeth across your supple skin. The feeling grew, every touch of my mouth seemingly echoing on your smoldering vagina. Your free foot drops farther still, the heel finally touching the up turned head of my dick. My slick precum leaves a wet trail as you caress my organ with your heel, down your arch, over the ball of your foot, down towards your toes. As the head of my dick reaches the tip of your toes, you flex them downward, catching a drop of my juice on your vermilion nail, then running my dripping penis over the top of your foot, up to your ankle, swirling my smooth, hard member around on a sheet of my clear fluids. Soon your entire foot is wet with my precum, the slippery surface catching the candlelight in a million angles. My tongue had found the heel of your other foot, my teeth gnashing gently against the slightly rougher skin there, your toes twirling the hair on my temple, savoring the sexy feeling. You position your big toe under the continuous drip running from my penis, gathering a small pool of my juice in the nail bed. The you raise to towards my face,

“Footboy,” You scold me, “Look at the mess you’ve made of my pretty pedicure! Clean it up this instant slave.”

You reluctantly move your other foot away from my mouth, dropping it down to catch more of my leaking sex drive, as I reply,

“I’m sorry Mistress , You just excite me so much I can’t help myself.”

Pressing your wet foot to my lips you say,

“Less excuses, more licking, Slave.”

My tongue flicks out, just catching a drop of myself before it splatters on my chin. The taste is strange, it feels slick, slightly bitter, like if you had gotten a bubble of soap on your tongue. I never usually partake in this slippery fluid, but when you first offered it to me, I found it irresistible. I slurp the shallow pools collected on each of your nails, and in the valley formed when you pull your toes back. The sound is so erotic to you, the thought of me drinking of myself driving you wild. You grasp my cockhead between your toes, stroking my hot glans, squeezing a long drip from it. The clear liquid running down your toes like a sensual river, slithering over your ankle, trickling onto the black silk sheets. My tongue is lapping my mess off your drenched foot, scooping it into my hungry mouth. Your toes begin to stroke up and down my shaft, clenching my tip harder each time you reach it. Soon you have my precum worked into a lather, tiny bubbles clinging to your divine arch and toes. My moans and gasping breath grow louder and closer together,

“Footboy,” You say, “You mustn’t cum without permission. I will tell you when you can.”

My moans become a slight wine,

“Of course Mistress, I wouldn’t dream of it.”

You smile, stuffing all of your toes into my mouth at once, stretching my cheeks,

“Good boy.”

Pushing your foot deeper into my face, you start to really pump my cock for all your worth, milking me, basically daring me to defy you. I’m whimpering, thrusting my hips in time with your stroking toes, as you fuck my mouth steadily with your other foot, turning my head in circles. You smile, grinding your hips against thin air. As you feel my dick begin convulse under my barely controlled orgasm, you feel a strange feeling in your loins, burning, running throughout your body causing you to start to shake…Could it be….?

Yes, your coming. You arch your back and cry out, your pussy pouring your sweet juices through your new panties. My licking tongue still works at all of you toes at once, sucking greedily, loving the end of your foot with every ounce of passion in me. It feels like every one of your toes is an extension of your clit, five of which are being sensually devoured by my mouth, another five are warm and sticky. Coming down from this unbelievable foot induced orgasm, you see that the foot that was stroking my hard cock is covered in my sperm. I twitch as you continue to rub my oversensitive head,

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