No ankle strap held the shoes in place – she could slip her feet out of them any time she wanted. Her head tipped back to look at one of the decorations he’d been told to add – a small bundle of green leaves and red berries in the doorway, dangling tantalizingly from the frame by a beautiful golden ribbon. “You’ve been a good boy,” she said softly. “Come kiss your Mistress’s feet under the mistletoe.”
Stewart shivered as he knocked on the forest-green front door. The frigid mid-winter air was biting easily through his thin trench coat, and he was sure his bare knees would freeze to the pavement he was kneeling on. He wasn’t allowed to kneel on the welcome mat, instead seated just behind it with his hands palm-up in his lap as instructed while he waited for the door to open. A black backpack sat on the floor beside him, leaning coldly against his thigh. Snow coated the ground around him, dusting the ornate dark-painted house he stood before, but the cold did nothing to quell the erection already growing between his thighs.
Doubts began to swirl in his head, as they did every time he did this. What if someone saw him? No, impossible, this was a cozy cottage three miles from any neighbor in any direction. Maybe he should just leave, but no, he’d already sent her the money for this session. Should he really be doing this? This was crazy, right? Hush, he told himself. This was normal – he’d heard plenty of stories of people doing this, all the time. It was a pleasure thing, especially for someone of Stewart’s power and position. Head Director of Sales at one of the fastest-growing department stores in the US, Stewart Merryweather was regarded as a very knowledgeable and skilled businessman – but the constant pressure to wear such a dominant persona was tiring, and it felt good to give himself over like this. She took care of him.
Finally, the door opened, but Stewart kept his eyes down. He shuddered, his cock suddenly becoming fully erect as he saw her shoes. Pleaser-brand, the kind that high-end strippers wore. The bottoms were thick, sleek black platforms, each thin heel easily five or six inches high, and a diamond-studded strap adorned her ankles to match the straps laid across her perfectly-manicured toes. He knew she could see him staring, but he wasn’t breaking any rules – she had only told him not to make eye contact unless explicitly told he was allowed. “What shoes are these, pet?” she purred, her voice like a cup of hot chocolate on the coldest of these dark nights.
“Pleaser, Mistress Eudora,” he answered promptly, trying to keep his voice steady. “Adore seven-seventy, in black faux leather. Beautiful, Mistress.”
“That’s right,” she crooned. “Do you have my money?”
“Right here,” he said softly, unzipping a pocket in the backpack and handing her a stack of cash. $500 to be her sub. It sounded counterproductive at first – she should be the one paying him, considering all the things he did for her, but this was a different dynamic. He handed it to her, avoiding her eyes, and shivered as her long nails scraped his hand when she took the money. She thumbed through it for a moment, then spoke. “You may come inside. I already have a few tasks for you.”
Stewart did as she asked, grabbing the backpack and lifting himself off the ground as quickly as his cold bones would allow. He kept his eyes low as he followed her into the house. It was warm inside, the fireplace in the entryway burning bright already. “You may look at me, pet,” Mistress said, sitting down on the maroon suede couch.
Stewart looked up, gasping as he saw her. Her lovely pale body was adorned with a fishnet bodysuit, her pink nipples just barely visible as they poked through the holes. A sheer black robe was draped over her elegant figure, diamonds running along the hem to match her shoes. Her dark black hair was drawn up in a loose bun, and her bright red lipstick and searing blue eyes looked particularly stunning against her ever-white skin. “You… y-you look fucking divine, Mistress Eudora…”
“Ah-ah, what did we say about the swearing?”
“Only good boys get to have a dirty mouth.”
“And what happens to naughty boys?”
“They get their mouths washed out with your panties.” It didn’t sound too bad of a punishment, but right now, he was more interested in being good for her. He wanted to behave tonight. He wanted to hear her call him a good boy. A nice little pet.
“That’s right,” she said. “I’m hungry and don’t feel like waiting, so I’ll let that one slide for now. I’m thinking étouffée – everything you need is already laid out on the kitchen counter. Then we’ll move on. Did you bring the decorations?”
“I did, Mistress.”
“Good.” She kicked her feet up onto the ottoman. “And did you wear the uniform I requested?”
“I did, Mistress,” he responded. “May I show you?” She nodded, and he undid the belt around the trenchcoat that kept it closed over his body, letting it fall to the floor in a puddle around his ankles, thankful for the warm fireplace. He was completely naked underneath, just as she had instructed him.
“Good boy,” she said with a grin. “Now go make me my dinner.”
He obeyed, a thrill running through his whole body and making his cock throb as he gave himself fully over to her.
———
Thirty minutes later, the house smelled amazing. Stewart nearly burned himself a few times, which was startling in the face of his nudity, but he managed to prepare a beautiful dinner, and plated the dish as perfectly as possible for his Mistress. He knew she would accept nothing less, and he was proud of his work.
“Oh, no, yeah, you gotta have the red ones. They’ll go really well with the bodysuit you just got. Uh-huh. Well, yeah, but that’s why they make different sizes, don’t they. Oh – ohhhh, okay.” She was on the phone, most likely with one of her fellow dominatrixes. Once again keeping his eyes low, Stewart hovered at the door, waiting for his command.
“Come in, pet,” she called, and he did. He made his way to the couch, dropping to one knee and handing her the flavorful bowl of roux-covered rice and shrimp like a knight handing his sword to a noble. Fitting, considering how he saw her. A queen. A goddess.
She took it, and he heard her sip from it before a small, satisfied moan left her lips. “Good boy,” she praised, making his cock stir again. “Just one moment, Mistress Denali – you may look at my phone, pet.” Stewart raised his eyes just a little, his eyes meeting her phone screen as she turned it around to show him. A pair of tall, sleek black latex boots, priced at $113.95 and begging to be worn by his Mistress. As if she sensed what he was thinking, she giggled. “Lovely, right? I think I deserve them.”
“You do, Mistress. Every color.” He saw her nod out of the corner of his eye, and looked down as she pulled the phone away. He could feel his dick rising at the thought of her feet in those boots, but he stayed silent.
“Position Four, pet,” she said firmly.
He moaned a little at the bossy tone in her voice, always a glutton for her domination. Position Four. Obediently, he got up from his place on one knee, instead getting on his hands and feet with his belly facing up, knees bent. He could feel his face turn strawberry-red as his dick stood up straight, even more so when he heard Mistress Eudora laugh at the sight of it. He felt hot, his body tingling as he fought the urge to tuck it away and hide it, ashamed of its smaller-than average size, but he knew he would be reprimanded, and what she was about to do was worth so much more than his temporary relief from embarrassment.
With an elegant sigh, Mistress kicked her feet up, resting them on his stomach as she returned to her conversation on the phone.
Position Four, one of Stewart’s favorites.
Here, he was truly hers. It was uncomfortable, yes, holding himself up like this for as long as she wanted. But he loved it. Having her soft feet and expensive heels on his skin was a fucking blessing, and he knew it, and he craved it. Being her footrest was one of the only times he was allowed to touch her feet without needing to earn it, and he loved it.
Was it strange of him to have such a fetish? To be obsessed with petite, pretty feet and fancy heels? Maybe. But he could afford to pay her for their sessions, and it was private, so who cared? He was happy, and he was serving a beautiful woman. That was all that mattered.
———
When she finished her dinner, she allowed him to break Position Four. She handed him the empty bowl, and instructed him to tidy her home while she went to take a shower, then decorate. She was excited for Christmas, she’d said, and wanted to make her place look nice in the spirit of the season.
Stewart did as she asked, which was easy enough tonight. A few dishes, some laundry, dusting the mantel above the fireplace and tending to the fire. Then the decorations went up.
Sparkling garland in red, white, gold, silver, and green was strung everywhere he could find a place for it. Warm white lights were hung along the walls, and the windows were dusted with false frost. Upstairs and downstairs both, the kitchen, even the bathrooms – all of it was sprinkled with Christmas cheer. It looked beautiful, but that wasn’t for him to decide. It was up to his Mistress to tell him whether his work was acceptable.
“Finished, Mistress Eudora,” he said as he tied the last of the beautiful red ribbon to the banister at the bottom of her stairs.
“Stay where you are. Position Two. Let’s see how you’ve done,” she called from her bedroom upstairs. Immediately, Stewart assumed Position Two: stood up straight, hands at his sides like some sort of proper American soldier, with his chin to his chest and his eyes closed. Mistress Eudora’s heels clicked as she made her way down the stairs. Each step echoed in his brain, rattling him. His stomach churned with excitement, and he recognized the all-too-familiar desire for her utmost approval.
He listened as she crooned over her new decorations, his heart thumping with each new praise. “Ooh, love the red and green here… and this garland is so pretty, baby. You did so good… Did you put these little ornaments on this green garland? Oh, it’s lovely, my sweet boy.” Fuck, she was gonna kill him. He shivered as he listened to her voice, fading in and out of earshot as she went from room to room. Finally she came to a rest, and there was silence for a moment. Then she spoke again: “You may look at me, pet.”
He raised his head, and whimpered at the sight of her, leaning luxuriously on her kitchen door frame. Her olive-toned body was wrapped in a latex bodysuit, reminiscent of the bunny outfits in those animes some of his friends watched. Her hair was still damp, draped in a beautiful jet-black curtain over her pale face, and her soft feet were clad in a lovely pair of black heels. No ankle strap held the shoes in place – she could slip her feet out of them any time she wanted. Her head tipped back to look at one of the decorations he’d been told to add – a small bundle of green leaves and red berries in the doorway, dangling tantalizingly from the frame by a beautiful golden ribbon. “You’ve been a good boy,” she said softly. “Come kiss your Mistress’s feet under the mistletoe.”
Stewart moaned. “Mistress… I can’t thank you enough…”
“Come get on your knees before I change my mind about rewarding you.”
He didn’t hesitate. He nearly broke his kneecaps from dropping to the floor as fast as he did, his eyes lowered but his cock high and proud. He could feel her gaze boring into him as he kneeled before her, bending down until his face was level with her divine feet. He stopped for a moment to admire the shoes – then his lips touched the top of one, where her toes were hidden, and shivered at the contact. His cock twitched, and he could feel precum beading at the tip. He moaned again, not wanting to break the contact, but for fear of punishment, he pulled away.
“Something wrong, pet?” Mistress Eudora drawled.
“N-no, MIstress.” Stewart gulped as he searched for the words. “I just… please… permission to act freely?”
She thought for a moment, and he kept his head bowed, groaning in excitement when she finally answered. “Permission granted. Give them as many kisses as you want, darling.”
Stewart thought he’d lose his mind over her and her feet.
Frantically, he kissed her shoes over and over again. The faux latex felt smooth and cold under his lips, and his tongue poked out almost entirely unconsciously, swiping eagerly over the shiny material. His hands moved to cup the foot he was kissing, holding her by the back of the ankle so that his thumbs could trace the skinny stiletto heel. His dick jumped again, quivering with the need to cum, and he didn’t need to wonder whether he could cum without touch. Doing this, he was sure he could finish hands-free, and soon.
“Are the heels all you want?” Mistress Eudora teased, pulling her foot away from his kisses to gently slide it out of the shoe. Stewart bit his lip and shook his head, abandoning the item to instead hold the back of her ankle.
Her skin was soft from her shower, the foot freshly exfoliated to make it as enticing as ever. Black nail polish adorned her milky-white toes, and he moaned as he kissed each one in turn. She twitched a little under his attentions, ticklish, but the idea only served to excite him further. Such beautiful feet, yet so delicate, so fragile. So fucking goddesslike. He lifted her foot a little, and she bent her leg to give him easier access as he kissed the underside of her foot, the sole, the softest and nicest part of it all.
She pulled away again, kicking the heel aside before stepping out of the other one to offer that foot to him as well. He accepted graciously, his lips wrapping around her big toe as his hands found his cock. He didn’t wait, didn’t care about going slow, instead opting to rub himself furiously as his tongue circled her toe, breathing in the scent of her skin the whole time. She giggled softly as he tickled her, and it drove him further, sucking gently on her appendage before pulling off with a pop to drag his tongue along the top of her foot. He wasn’t going to last. He planted several light kisses on her ankles, and she switched feet again, letting him kiss his way down from the ankle. His cock twitched over and over again, spasming as he jerked himself closer and closer. His tongue snaked between her toes before his lips found the biggest one again, and his other hand held her foot by the sole as he feverishly sucked her toe. He could feel his body lighting on fire as he teetered over the edge.
“Mistress – Mistress, please,” he struggled to murmur as he pulled away from her foot, “please, may I cum?”
“You may,” she purred, shoving it roughly against his face.
Fuck, she knew he loved that. His hand stuttered around his cock, and he moaned loudly as his balls seized with the force of his orgasm. His pathetic cock pulsed ferociously, deceptively powerful compared to the meager spill of cum that oozed in waves from his tip as he let his face be smashed against her bare, heavenly foot. His head spun and his vision faded for a moment, and all that existed was her smooth, soft, ravaging soles and toes.
As quickly as it arrived, the ecstasy began to ebb. He floated in weightless bliss, feeling a stir of shame after a moment at the position he’d found himself in yet again, but shoving it away in favor of the wonder he could feel coursing through his veins.
“You’re relieved of your duties for tonight, pet,” Mistress Eudora said, then added with a smile, “have a good night, Stewart. Same time next week?”
Stewart nodded, then hurried to search for his coat and empty backpack before leaving for the night. He couldn’t wait to see what she had in store for him next week.