Foot Worship: The Training of A Foot Slave

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No, actually I think you were. And so was I. But I also think that you’re not entirely sure yourself how serious you were.” I will really, really change them more often Tom, I promise.” Nelly however didn’t want to wait any longer.

I mean, you didn’t only do it to punish me for today, right? My theory is that you did it because of my teasing the last two years.” I meant every word. Two days ago, I would have never imagined I could tell my best friend something so embarassing, but now I just didn’t care anymore. Rebecca smiled down to me, blushing slightly. I’m so over the moon right now. Goddess had me over for dinner and then I gave her the new shoes I bought her and she loved them. I worshipped and massaged her feet while she relaxed and enjoyed her show and talked to her friend on the phone.We took a few minutes to recover a bit, I tried to calm my exploding heart and aching pants, and savored the taste in my mouth, tried to ache the smell, taste and form of her feet forever in my memories so I would never, ever forget them. Since Rebeccas feet lay directly on my head and I kneeled in front of her bed I couldn’t really see her, but judging from how silent it was, she was thinking. When she came to a conclusion, I heard her snapping her fingers. She took her feet off my head and looked at me friendly. This stuff is sooo fake-y! I mean seriously, who does that in private?!” she shouted while exerting her arms to her sides in an irritated manner. I laughed at her obvious criticism for mainstream-fetishporn, and she throwed her pillow at me. On our way home I thought good and hard how to punish you…”, her voice wasn’t entirely devoid of amused emotion, but almost, and that was impressive enough, And so on. I played along with all her ideas and plans, it was too great to see her enjoying and discovering our foot-fetish like that. So everything was going great for both of us, and six months later, at the end of december, our next mention-worthy developments took place. Christmas was closing in and since Rebeccas parents were in japan for their work, she probably would spend christmas here at home, as would I. My parents treated themselves to holidays in london. Our housemates, Ray and Nelly, also were a couple by now, and would spend their christmas at Nellys home. So… by chance or fate, Rebecca and I would be alone over christmas. Few days before, it was morning, she and I sat on our kitchen table, and Nelly was preparing something to eat for uni. While Rebecca read her book Mh-hm” I nodded and stood up, ready to leave Rebeccas room, “as long as you don’t cut my limbs off or make me wear some ridiculous latex-mask…”

I groveled at her feet and rained down kisses of gratitude thanking her profusely. She then proceeded to fill the bowl with her golden nectar. She placed it on the floor and said “Wow! It’s nice and clear for you. I’ve been drinking lots of water. Drink it up like a dog.” The two girls burst into uncontrollable laughter, obviously still under the influence combined with being in a very high and upbeat mood. I could feel the blood rushing to my face as my head sunk lower out of pure embarrassment. Even so, 'personal holiday slave?' I thought to myself. It is everything I could have dreamed of, except it was really happening. Even though I had just met this girl, there is nothing I wouldn't do for her. I would go through the harshest pain if it meant there was even a small chance of giving her the slightest pleasure. I definitely wanted to dedicate myself to her and wanted to prove that I am worthy enough to be her 'personal holiday slave' but I had no idea how far she would take it. She left the kitchen, not without giving the giggling Rebecca a gentle chop on the head, and we were alone again.

Your feet are beautiful, mistress. Absolute, wonderfully, fascinatingly, truly beautiful from heel to every single one of your perfectly-shaped toes and kempt toenails.” You got it right the first time, out in the sea." I thought about it for a second - the only words I said out there were "Yes Miss"... Miss? That's what I'm supposed to call her? I gave it a go: She smiled, it wasn’t her usual, charismatic smile, but the one she only weared when she was excited and really thrilled to find something out. It was a stunning smile, no question, and it fitted her creative nature perfectly, but I still was always a bit scared when I saw it, as everyone else around her.

Why can’t I? Do you think I’m naive enough to never have heard anything about foot-fetishism before?” I couldn’t stop my jaw from dropping open for a moment. I stood up do make some room between us and looked at her irritated.

She leaned forward to me and challenged me with her bold smile and the spark in her eyes. I decided to play along. I WAS her slave, after all.