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After Dinner Treatment
“Honey, I’m home!”
The door falls shut, and I can hear your footsteps walking back and forth in the corridor. It is late, after
midnight. Unusual for you. But those conference dinners tend to drag on forever. Once again I’m glad
I didn’t have to attend. Instead, I could spend a relaxing evening on the bed.
Not that I would have had a choice to go anywhere. You were still miffed that I messed up your
toenails again, and thus I got a suitable punishment. Hands cuffed to the bed railing, above my head,
preventing me from playing with myself. And to make my life more miserable, you have picked some
nice, steamy, X rated films from your library for me to watch while you were gone. To quote you “I
have to keep you hot and excited”. Imagine my pain and suffering…
You have stopped fuzzing around and finally come to join me. Flop. Collapse on the bed.
You sigh and lie still, staring at the ceiling for a few minutes. I know better than to ask.
“Ugh, that was dreadful. After dinner, they decided it’s time for clubbing. To socialize. With people I
hope I’ll never meet again. Bah.”
“Have you been dancing?”
“Yes, we went to some kind of underground bar. Funny, one of those places I always wanted to go. But
not with a bunch of people from work. Kind of spoiled the experience.”
You turn over to face me, stretch out an arm and stroke my hair.
“Sorry for leaving you alone for so long. I certainly didn’t mean to.”
“It’s okay,” I answer, truthfully.
“Did you have fun?”
“More than you, it seems,” I say, forgetting my place for a second. Don’t be snarky. I have to remember
Luckily, you are too tired to care. Your hand wanders down, neck, dress, opening the zipper a few
inches. Gently sticking your hand in, kneading my breasts, lingering on my nipples for a second. Your
hand is very warm and soft. Moving further down, stopping between my legs.
“Yes, I can see that.”
I’m wet. Who wouldn’t be after watching porn for five hours straight, with no chance for a release.
“Naughty girl,” you seem to be amused. A smile is lighting up your face. You are so beautiful, even
when you are tired.
“Don’t be, I like it.” You roll over and give me a long kiss. I can smell your perfume. Trace of wine on
“Ugh, gotta take off those shoes, they are killing me.”
I can’t suppress a grin. “Need some help?”
You unhook the cuffs from the railing, but don’t open them. Black leather straps around my wrists,
linked together with a gleaming golden chain, clinking at every movement, that’s one of your favorites.
They aren’t really sturdy, I could break free easily if I wanted to.
I most certainly don’t want to.
I scramble off the mattress and shuffle to the end of the bed, where your feet are dangling. Black shiny
leather pumps tonight, with gleaming rhinestone, not a lot, just adding some sparkles. The heels aren’t
extremely high, but high enough to make a whole evening an uncomfortable experience. You wiggle
your left foot expectantly. I catch it quickly. I notice a dull spot on the leather. That won’t do. I have to
shine it up, lick it until it’s gleaming wet and tandoğan escort sparkly again.
A final kiss on the tip. Another one on the instep, while I nestle with the clasp. I really should practice
this more often. Finally, I manage to pry it open, and I can gently extricate your foot from the torture
device. You sigh with relief, and I hurry to repeat the procedure with the other foot. As soon as the
clasp is open, you shake the shoe off, letting it fly through the room and land in a corner. Plonk.
I pause a moment to appreciate the sight. Long black stockings covering your shapely legs, vanishing
under your green velvet skirt. A naughty lacy hem is peeking out, just a little bit, saying hello to the
world. I wonder whether your skirt has slipped up right now or you have decided to tease the guys (and
gals) during the evening. Which I could totally imagine. A fine black seam runs along the backside. This
is also very much in the naughty department.
“You are so beautiful, Mistress,” I say quietly, more to myself.
“Thank you, sweetie,” you murmur. “It was all wasted on those jerks though. Boring.”
“I am so sorry, I hope next time it will be a better evening. Just relax, please.”
I grab the left foot again, stroking up and down the sole. Playing with the ankle.
“Would you like a massage, Mistress?”
I begin to knead the sole, going for the relaxation points. I could find them in my sleep by now. But it’s
never boring. Not too firmly at first, only slowly increasing the pressure. Then the toes. Rolling each
one between my fingers, massaging the little pads. Firmly stroking the foot all along to the ankle.
Giving special attention to the heel.
Other foot. This one has suffered even more, I am sure, and thus it receives a more intense treatment.
“Mmmmmm that feels sooooooo good! You are a perfect little foot slave! I think I should lend you to
my friends, would you like that?”
I smile inwardly while I continue with the massage. You are so right, I have become addicted to this
shit. Something I would have never imagined before I met you. I am a little foot slave alright. And… To
be honest, the thought of having to service some of your friends’ feet is arousing. Though I doubt they
could be as perfect as yours. But still…
I really have to focus.
Instead of an answer I place a kiss the sole. I cherish the soft nylon on my lips. It feels… interesting.
And it smells so good. Warm, silky, a little bit leathery from the shoes, not sweaty. Intriguing and hard
to describe. Very agreeable.
I moan from pleasure. Your other foot comes to join the party. It is caressing my hair, running through
the locks, then brushing against my cheek, stroking it gently, softly, with that soft extra layer of textile
skin. I bury my nose deep in its sole. Push against it, suffocating myself. Sniffing all the different smells.
A bit musky. Sweet. Plushy. And very warm and soft. I lose myself in that feeling, floating away, on a
warm fluffy pillow.
You are also moaning quietly, and I can feel your legs shifting against each other. After a while, you
move one foot away, and I finally come out of my trance. You have opened your legs a bit, and tunalı escort your
skirt has ridden all way up, exposing the bare skin above the stockings. And your panties. Red satin. A
wet spot is slowly forming in the middle.
I open the zipper of my dress further. Slowly, pausing at every pair of teeth. Now I am the one who is
teasing you. You are licking your lips.
“Wait, let me help you,” you order me. “Come closer, just a bit.”
I crawl closer, and you lift your leg and let your foot come to rest between my breasts. I can reach your
toes if I bend down. Just with my lips. I give each one a kiss. Then another one. Mmm. I want to suck
on them, they peek at me like little yummy fruits. Cherries. The nail coat is certainly the right color.
They deserve to be treated nicely, and I suckle on the big one. Needs moisturizing. I drool on it and
watch with fascination how the nylon is is slowly soaking up the spit. Mesmerizing.
I reach up with my bound hands and want to hold the heel, press the foot firmly against my chest, soak
up all the heat from you.
“Don’t,” you warn me and withdraw your foot.
I quickly drop my hands. The chain is clinking and clattering.
“Give me your hands.” You open the chain on one side. “Now keep them behind your back. I want to
see your body, not your arms. Good. Close your eyes.”
I obey. And wait. For a while, nothing is happening. I can hear some soft sounds, as if someone was
stroking silk. Or satin. Are you playing with yourself? That would be mean. I love to watch you. Maybe
I can dare a peek?
Suddenly, something warm is touching my breasts. Both of them. Your feet again. Lightly stroking my
titties, all around, carefully avoiding the nipples. The front of the dress comes open, and my breasts are
free. I feel more exposed than if I were completely naked. You move your feet up to my shoulders and
let the dress slide down to my waist. Another pause. You are breathing more heavily.
I am breathing more heavily, too. I want to touch myself so badly now. But I also want to experience
what is happening right now for as long as possible.
I gasp in surprise. Feet brushing against my nipples. They become even harder, and you decide to play
with them, pulling them down with your toes and then let them spring back. I am oddly reminded of a
doorstop. It feels totally amazing, I had no idea I would be that sensitive. The weird nylon texture is
giving me an extra kick, adding some distance between us while letting me feel your warmth at the same
You push forward and start to knead my nipples. Curling your toes and stretching them. Curl. Stretch.
Like a cat. I’m glad you don’t have claws. I moan and shudder at the same time, the sensory input is
nearly overwhelming me.
“Do you like it?” you whisper.
Do I LIKE it? I can’t even answer, so spellbound am I.
“You can open your eyes now, sweetie.”
I blink, then open my eyes completely. Fortunately the light is still dim. You have also opened your
blouse and your lovely perky breasts are peeking out from above the bra. Red lace, matching your
panties. Perfectly in style, as usual. One hand is lazily playing with a rosy nipple. Your eyes are half
“You ankara türbanlı escort haven’t answered me. How does it feel?”
I gather myself “Amazing, Mistress! Would you like me to…”
“Not today, little one, I am happy right now. But next time we can change roles.”
“Your breasts must feel wonderful against my feet. They are so beautiful!”
“Thank you, sweetie. Mmm, shake your tits for me, will you?”
I let them bounce up and down, I know that you love to see them jiggle around. I wish they were a bit
bigger. You don’t seem to care that much though, playing with your pussy, rubbing it through the red
satin which has become all wet and slobbery.
“Wow, you are really horny tonight,” I hear you murmur. You are right, my arousal is clearly visible,
my panties are soaked in pussy juices. I can smell them, hanging heavily in the air, mixing with yours.
I am as close to an orgasm as you and might explode from the slightest touch.
“You may touch yourself if you ask nicely,” you whisper, in between moans.
“Please Mistress, may I touch myself?”
“You may play through your panties, okay?” you like to prolong the fun a little bit. “And don’t touch your little horny clitty.”
My panties are all slushy and smeary, clinging closely to my lips, showing every detail, every fold. The fabric sticks to my fingers.
I am very careful not to touch my clit, instead focusing on the entrance to my fuckhole. Oh…. I’d love to feel you inside. I’m so wet, I have no doubt your whole foot could slide in easily.
“Pull down your panties, I want to see your cunt,” you command, and I obey in a trance. The waistband is tangled around my knees. I spready my
pussy lips, exposing myself to you, showing you what I have to offer. The fresh air gives me only a moment of respite. I feel
humiliated, finally I’m showing that I’m just a cheap slut. I LOVE it, I’m born for this, it is my destiny.
Blood is rushing in my ears, and I can hear my heart beat very loudly.
“Do you want to cum, slut?” you ask.
“Yes please, I can’t wait any longer.”
You grin. “That’s pretty obvious.”
“Please, may I cum on your lovely feet?” Let’s see whether you’ll actually let me do this, usually I am
not allowed to besmirch your body. Please please please answer quickly, I’m already
You continue to frig yourself, nearly oblivious, close to the brink. “Go ahead, sweetie,” you groan,
caught up in a climax.
Thank you mistress.
I grab a foot, try to guide it into my fuckhole. I want you to fill me up all way in.
Your toes brush against my clit, and I explode, unable to control myself. To hell with my plans. I just grind myself against the toes, the instep,
the ankle, rubbing back and forth.
Your nylons are a total mess. A wet, sticky mixture, already drying up, leaving stains on the fabric. Maybe I should take them off?
I am surprised that I could produce so much juice, it’s nearly as much as a proper load of cum.
I slurp up my own fluids from your feet. Quick! I must clean you properly, or you’ll be mad at me again.
I lick my lips clean. Yum.
You look at me with an inscrutable smile. Amused or disgusted? I wish I could tell. You start to say
something, but then just shake your head, as if to clear your head. Then you take my hand and pull me
up, close to you, holding me fast and tight.
I close my eyes and listen to your steady breath. I hope you’ll soon be invited to another dinner party.
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