I am under her desk.
She has tied my hands behind my back, tied my ankles together, and tied them together in a hogtie.
I wouldn't dream of screaming for help but just to make sure she's stuffed some worn stockings in my mouth and covered them with duct tape.
She's pressing her sexy feet against my taped mouth.
They feel so good against my face.
She's working on a project and that's why she has me under the desk.
She begins to speak.
"So how are you doing down there?" she asks playfully.
"Great," I try to respond but with the gag in my mouth it comes out "mmmppphhh."
"I didn't hear you, how are you doing?" she asks again.
I again try to respond but of course the gag makes it come out as "mmmmppphhh" yet again.
"Speak up!"
"Mmmmppphhhh"
"Well if you aren't going to speak up then I won't give you a special treat."
"Mmmmppphhh."
She often does this with me.
It's part of our play.
I'm here of my own free will.
I'm here because we made a deal.
But what kind of deal would have me tied up and gagged by a beautiful woman on the floor using me as a footrest while she did her work?
Perhaps it's best to start this story at the beginning.
I am a man with a lot of ambition but I was at a point where I had seen many career reverses.
I am someone who believes in myself but you can have all the faith, education, work ethic, intelligence, creativity, and all the other qualities that people say brings you success in the world but if you don't have others who are believing in you, who are fighting for you, and are all alone in the world then usually those people who try and put obstacles and stumbling blocks in your way succeed no matter how much effort you put forth.
The idea that all it takes is hard work to succeed is patent bullshit.
The McDonald's worker and the janitor work far harder than the currency speculator but the currency speculator can make more in an hour than they can in a lifetime. And then the working poor are blamed for their condition.
When I met Emily I was at a career and life low point.
I found myself isolated and stifled and I was close to losing all hope in the world. I had all the faith in myself in the world and the belief I could achieve whatever goal I put my mind to but I was still blocked unfairly through the negativity of others.
I can still remember it like it was yesterday.
I was sitting in the local coffee shop reading a book when she walked in and walked up to me.
"So what is a Benazir Bhutto?" she asked.
"She was a Pakistani political leader who fought to modernize her country and improve the status of women in her country who was assassinated before she could fulfill her potential," I replied.
"Interesting topic for a book but not what I see people read in here. Usually they'll be reading poetry, or something about John Lennon, or other hippie indie rock bullshit."
"Well I've always read about the great men and women of history because I've always wanted to achieve greatness for myself and have my place in the annals of posterity but so far my life is not turning out that way."
And so began our first conversation.
We sat and talked for an hour and then I had to go.
I figured I'd never meet her again but it wasn't a week later when I ran into her grocery shopping.
We chatted for a bit and I got a glance of her feet in those high heels she was wearing but quickly looked away hoping she didn't notice. Of course we soon departed each other and I went on about my business.
We had several chance meetings and over time became acquaintances and even began to develop a bit of a friendship.
It soon go to the point where Emily and I would have lunch once a week or so.
My career was still going nowhere and I complained about that constantly, and about the unfairness I had suffered, while talking about my goals. She'd roll her eyes whenever I did and preferred talking intellectual subjects with me.
Finally a day came when she called me up.
"So Adrian, what are you doing today?"
"Well not much. I figured I was going to go out to the range and practice a bit, hunting season will be starting soon and I'd like to get a 20 point this season."
"Well, think you can spare some time for me? I think you'd have more confidence if you were dressed better so I want to take you shopping and buy you a suit. Would you be willing to put off becoming a better shot for a day for that?"
"I guess I can."
"Great!"
She picked me up from the house and took me to the mall and we began looking at suits and other things. She bought me a new wardrobe and even took me to a pawn shop and bought me a used Bulova. She ran her own office and made a six figure income, which was very impressive for her age, and so she could afford it but I still felt a bit bad about her buying me all of this and not being able to return it.
Throughout the day try as I might to avoid it I had glanced many glances of her feet which were just so pretty and several times after coming out of the changing rooms when she complimented me on how good I looked it started to make a rising occur down there.
After we finished shopping she took me out to dinner at a fine restaurant and asked for a private room.
While we waited on dinner she began speaking to me.
"Adrian..."
"Yes Emily?"
"I noticed today that you were staring at my feet often and I've seen this from you several times."
Good God, she had noticed.
But why was she bringing this up after spending so much money on me?
"You've done this even when you talk to me. Now I am used to guys constantly staring at my breasts and having to tell them to look up at my eyes but this... I mean what's this about Adrian? Why stare at my feet? Do you just have a problem making eye contact with me or something?"
I knew I was about to lose a friend. She'd probably even take back the suit and even stick me with the bill for this meal. I decided to go ahead and tell her the truth.
And I told her everything. I told her about my foot fetish. I told her about my desire to be dominated by a woman who I could trust to guide and protect me. I told her about everything. I also told her that part of my problem had been I'm not one of these people who lack self-respect who is a doormat and I told her how this had always made me uncomfortable and tormented me and that it had been an impediment to me ever trying to form a serious romantic relationship.
I bared my soul to Emily and had never felt lower in my life.
I couldn't tell what Emily was thinking but then she started to speak.
"Adrian, I want you to know that what you just did was very brave. Very few men would have courage like that. What you just did took far more strength then all these macho douchebags who can powerlift 700 lbs with one hand. Most of them wouldn't have the security in their own masculinity to tell me what you just did."
"So you're not creeped out? You don't think it is weird?"
"Adrian it's as weird as can be but see I'm just like you so I understand."
What?
Just like me?
What did she mean?
"Adrian, since I was a teenager there I've known that dominating a man turns me on. The problem is so many men I've met who are into being dominated often lack self-respect, are often doormats, and those that aren't are usually married and pay a professional and hide it from their wives rather than having the courage to tell them and make it part of the relationship to make them stronger..." She started.
"But you Adrian, you have ambition, you have drive, you have goals, and dreams. You had the courage to tell me this but you also told me the things you won't do. That you have limits. You are the kind of man I always wished I could have submit to me. It would turn me on to dominate you. I noticed you staring at my feet the first time we met and kept a note of each glance. I've found that men who have foot fetishes are often into submitting to women so I asked you that to test you. You gave me the answer I was hoping to hear so I have a proposal to make to you."
"What is that Emily?"
"Adrian, you are such a charismatic and energetic personality but you have let life get you down and I can tell keeping this secret part of yourself hidden from the world has only made it worse and has only hurt your confidence. It's no fun to dominate a worm. I want to dominate a force. A power. Someone who is my equal mentally, spiritually, professionally, and socially and who perhaps is even on a higher level because dominating someone greater than you is the ultimate expression of dominance and sexual power. What fun is it to dominate someone who is a lowly slave? It is much more satisfying to have power over an equal. My ideal husband since I was a little girl was a man who'd conquer the world in the day but would come home to be at my service, to be bound by me, to ache for me, to conquer the world for me, but who'd still have the self-respect that if we had kids and found out one of them wasn't his would divorce me on the spot and not accept the abuse or disrespect."
"Emily?" I asked, sort of bewildered by her monologue.
"Adrian, you might just be what I'm looking for. We get along as friends. Since we've met I've begun reading a little history too and I have a little experiment to try tonight. I want you to submit to me Adrian and I'm ready to make a deal with you."
"A deal?"
"Yes."
"What kind of deal?"
"I have the connections to help you get to where you want to go and if we were to get into a relationship and it went as far as it could go then of course we'd be a power couple with me having the ultimate power because while you were king to the outside world at home I'd be the Queen. So here is my deal. Be my little sub buddy for the next few months and we'll have a lot of fun and while you are submitting to me I'll help you in your career and as long as you submit to me I'll be in your corner. I can take you places you need to go and want to go, both in life and spiritually. You need my dominance Adrian. You need my guiding hand. I won't hurt you. There may be a little pain from time to time but I want you to enjoy this too. So will you give me a try? Will you submit to me? You want to be a king in life. Will you give me a try at being your Queen?"
"Yes Emily, I'll submit to you."
A smile came across her face.
"Ok Adrian, be a good king and get under the table, take off my shoe, and start kissing my foot to show your submission to your Queen."
I complied. Fortunately there was a tablecloth that flowed off the table so the wait staff couldn't see me but I heard the door open as he brought in our food. I took off my ring, got up from under the table and sat back in my seat.
"My ring fell under the table and I had to find it," I said, trying to provide cover for being under the table.
The waiter just shrugged it off and we began eating and talking.
"Adrian..."
"Yes Emily?"
"It's time for you to submit to your Queen again."
"I can't use the ring excuse again."
"No you don't have to kiss my feet again. Right now. But how pretty are my feet?"
"Very pretty."
"And they turn you on?"
"Yes."
"Say yes my Queen for the rest of the time we are at this restaurant."
