Worship My Feet

Is included in Mistress Roulette’s Free Erotica Section

Hello, Lover.

I know you find it distracting when I email you at work, but I just got a call from the delivery service. They need someone to drop by my place to let them in so they can setup my new computer desk. I, of course, would love to take the time off, but my new boss Karen seems to be demanding more and more of my time lately and I’m afraid I can’t make it. So, would you please take an extra half hour over lunch and let them in?

I’m sure this email is a surprise to you, not knowing I’d even made the purchase. Or that I’d put it on your credit card. It’d been awhile since you’d gotten me anything nice, and since you hate to be inconsiderate, I knew you’d love the thought of my having such a beautiful new desk. Real wood, with fine craftsmanship. Strong and capable of taking whatever abuse it might incur from me. A bit like you, darling, come to think of it.

When they’re finished bringing it in, I’m sure you’ll notice I’ve made some customisations with you in mind: several bolts underneath ending in a loop placed at certain points — especially nearest to where my chair should be. They’ve been installed for you, love, and as much as I would love to let your imagination go wild in constructing what the real purpose for them might be, I think I’ll get more enjoyment out of giving you your instructions for this evening.

I’ll be arriving home at 8. Sharp. Prior to that, Karen and I will have been at dinner. (She does so love to hear the details of what I’ll be doing to you. Really makes her laugh. You know … I might even include her one of these days in our activities. Wouldn’t that be fun?) So then, when I arrive, I expect you to be wearing only your collar, your eyes down, kneeling, with your hands cuffed behind you. You are not to dare look up at me as I change from my work clothes into something far more comfortable, as they say. In fact, you are to remain perfectly still and completely silent until I instruct you otherwise — despite however long I take in admiring my new desk.

Then, once I tell you, I expect you to crawl beneath it and take your place — your eyes not leaving the floor. I will hand you a leash, (which you will dutifully attach to your collar, being the good boy you are) before threading it through one of the bolts attached to the desk, whereupon immediately after, you’ll be handing the leash to me. Once I have it in hand, I will pull your head down to my waiting feet — which will be quite filthy, I’ve no doubt, after my long day at work. I expect them to be cleaned to perfection, absolutely no skimping; and you will achieve this with nothing but your tongue. I chose this particular desk with the thought of making the hours I spend typing away at it more comfortable. You trapped beneath it, worshipping my feet is definitely a step (excuse the pun) in the right direction. I’ll likely ignore you while you’re down there; though, should you cease your duties for even a second — if a moment goes by that you aren’t licking, sucking, and tonguing each of my toes and the soles of my feet — I’m off to bed. You, on the other hand, are not. I hope you like sleeping in cramped spaces, sweetheart. Don’t worry. I’d leave the light on … except that you might actually drift to sleep. Couldn’t have that. By morning, should I be well rested enough, I might allow you the chance to make it up to me. And should you fail again, expect to be left there while I go to work. Could you imagine what your boss would think were he to know the truth? Oh, how embarrassing! I guess you’d best not fail me, huh, love?

Oh, where was I? Just get so lost sometimes in the fantasy of what I’m going to do to you. Can you blame me? Now, then. Seeing as your freedom is directly dependent upon your performance, I suggest you do your damnedest to please me. You already know the consequences. (Unless I should reiterate them for you again? After all, it is delicious, the mere thought of it … ) Each bit of lint and sweat is to be thoroughly cleaned from my precious feet — as are you to be grateful for the privilege of taking such good care of them. (I’m not even sure if you’ve really earned it … Hmm. Can’t say I never did anything for you out of the pure kindness of my heart.) Once that is complete, nibble — not too hard, and not a full bite, mind you — in between each of my toes. You know what I expect. Then move onto the soles of my feet, ball and heel, and lick those thoroughly clean. No excuses. Once you’re done removing each piece of lint or speck of dirt with that filthy tongue, commence sucking each of my toes. Blow them, in fact. No, no, no. Not like that. You know — blow them; like the little slut you are. Bob your head back and forth, up and down, circling the tip of your tongue around each one. Silly, boy. (You’re getting hard already. Did I say that you could? Your cock doesn’t even fit into the equation here. Behave. Now.)

I suppose it bears mention; how will you know you’re doing a good job? Oh, you’ll know. My arousal will be so known to you, it’ll scent the air around you. You won’t be able to avoid it. And, oh, perhaps as a reward, I might let you work your way licking and sucking up to my calves, giving your leash then just enough slack to go there, and … maybe to my knees. But absolutely no further. You’ve not earned that tonight. And just so that we’re clear, with your head between my knees, I’ll slide down my panties toward your face — which will no doubt be soaked by that point. How delightfully infuriating it’ll be for you to smell my wetness, be just mere inches from me, and unable to get even the slightest taste. You’ll be salivating as I touch myself, gently stroking that spot, the one I know so well, with my free hand tightly clutching the end of your leash. I’ll watch you, savouring the helplessness of your dilemma, staring deeply into your eyes. I know you’ll love it. I want to see the frustration build within them as I climb higher and higher to ecstasy. I want you whimpering on the inside — desperate and wanting. Oh, I think I’ll probably use my vibrator. When I present it to you, you’d better take it into your mouth, treating it as you did my lovely toes; but I want you to take all of this. Every inch of it, until you’re gagging so terribly that tears are escaping the edges of your eyes. You’ll do this for me because you’re such a wonderful little slut, and you can’t fathom not wanting me pleased. Make it nice and wet now; you know how I like it.

Now, as I’m holding it inside of myself and letting its constant rhythm move through me, I’m going to maintain eye contact with you. I want you to experience a level of denial you’ve never imagined. I want you to move through anger and frustration to desperation and mindlessness. I’ll know as it happens; as I move closer to intense release, you’ll fall faster, harder, deeper, until you’ll do anything to make it stop. But you won’t. You wouldn’t dare. You won’t dare break my gaze, because you’ll already be mine. Oh, it should be noted that my orgasms tend to be rather … active. I may kick you a few times; it may really hurt. Unfortunately, the situation you’ll be in, that just can’t be avoided, darling. I’m sure you understand. After all, this isn’t for you. It’s for me.

One last thing … despite how well you truly did, I’ve already decided whether or not I’m going to release you once I’ve had my fun. And, of course, you know better not to ask me until then.

Until tonight, darling …