Hey everyone - I don't have a ton of notes on this one; I think it's just a fun (and possibly gentle?) femdom story. Everyone here is older than 18 years old. And obviously, clearly, this is all fantasy...but as always, let's hope it's filthy fucking hot fantasy.
***
Josiah's phone buzzed on the table at his elbow. He frowned, pretty sure he knew who that text was from without even looking. He swallowed hard, mouth suddenly gone dry.
A small, companionable silence had drifted between him and Sofia, and there was only the music from the dance floor to fill in the space. Sofia stretched one long, perfect leg out from beneath the table, swiping at the ground yet unable to reach it from the tall chair in which she sat at the raised bar table.
Her heel slipped out of her black ballet flat, and the shoe dangled from her toes for a moment before she snapped the shoe back into place and pulled her foot beneath her again.
Desire lit up Josiah's core, and his penis strained against the confines of the chastity cage beneath his jeans.
"Oh sorry," she said, and giggled a tipsy giggle. "I didn't meant to...um...distract you."
Josiah shifted in his seat. Sofia was flirting, sure, but she wasn't being mean. She didn't know about the chastity cage. She also didn't know about Lady Lynne. All Sofia knew was that the last time they'd gotten drinks together, Josaih had had too many and told her about his thing for feet.
Something he never would've done sober, of course. Almost no one -- aside from a handful of a few ex-girlfriends -- knew Josiah was into feet.
Sofia, for her part, had been cool about it and hadn't brought it up again -- until now. Sofia was a lawyer though, and a criminal defense attorney to be exact. Maybe she was used to keeping things confidential.
"No, you're good," Josiah said, but he could already feel the blush in his cheeks. He forced a smile. "You're not distracting me."
Fucking flats. Had to be the ballet flats. Flats drove Josiah crazy, always had.
"I'm *not* distracting you?" She asked, and took a healthy swallow of her cocktail on the table between them. She laughed again, obviously feeling the alcohol.
"Should I be offended?"
Josiah rolled his eyes but he was smiling. "No, Sofia, you shouldn't be offended."
"So I've been meaning to ask you this," she said. "Because I've always fucking hated my feet. But, like, you specialize in this, right? I mean, you're an expert on hot feet. Are mine, like, awful? Or what makes a good pair of feet?"
Josiah snickered, but not much. The chastity cage was uncomfortable now. "You're actually not the first woman to ask me this."
"I bet not," Sofia said. "Society tells you that you have to be self-conscious about literally every part of your body. But, like, where do my feet rank?"
Josiah laughed. "Rank?"
"Yeah, like...top five women with the best feet you've seen," she said. "Where do you put my feet? I went to law school; I have to always rank myself in everything."
She sipped the cocktail again for a long time, those dark red lips against the rim of the glass.
"I don't know, Sofia," he said.
"Boo," she said. "Lame."
"You have very nice feet," he told her, which was an understatement, because Sofia's feet were currently making life in a chastity cage un-fucking-bearable.
"But like...like above average?" She said. "Like at least a B or a B+ right?"
Josiah blinked and smiled. "Law school really did ruin you, didn't it?"
"It ruins everyone," she said. "It self-selects for the worst people you know. But about my feet."
"Your feet are beautiful," Josiah told her. "I'd give them an A, not just a B+."
Sofia grinned. "That's what I wanted to hear."
Josiah's phone hummed against the table again and he knew it was Lady Lynne. He also knew not answering was a mistake.
He glanced from the phone to their nearly-empty glasses. "I'm going to get another drink. You want one?"
"Yes please," she said. "Another of those Aviation cocktails -- you were right, that gin and lemon combination is great."
"Noted," Josiah said, and stood.
He needed to check his phone, but he also needed a moment away from Sofia talking about her feet. The chastity cage was painfully tight now.
Sofia's feet were fucking gorgeous.
He got in line to get a drink and gave a long exhale.
He wasn't even dating Sofia. He'd run into her by chance in the courthouse a month-and-a-half ago, which was the only reason he knew she'd gone to law school and become a criminal defense attorney. She was there for work. He was there to attend mediation with Lady Lynne, because she'd filed eviction paperwork on him after he missed rent when he got laid off.
He remembered Sofia from college, an indie-hipster girl with blonde hair and brown eyes and huge glasses and sweaters, the kind of thing that was popular back then. She'd been a social justice warrior back then -- she'd double majored in social justice and journalism -- so maybe the whole law school thing made sense.
Either way, they'd been friends back then, but had lost touch after college. He hadn't talked to her during his marriage -- he hadn't really talked to many of his friends during his shitty marriage -- and she hadn't been on the list of people he'd wanted to connect with after the divorce.
He'd been a little surprised at how quickly Sofia wanted to pick up where they left off, but only a little. She was always the friendly extrovert, the one willing to break the ice to make a new person feel at home. She was a good person.
He didn't know how he was ever going to broach the subject of Lady Lynne and the chastity cage and all that, assuming things kept moving int his direction.
He glanced at his phone and yeah, Lady Lynne had texted him twice. She didn't like to be kept waiting.
"You're working a show with me on Saturday night," the text read. "Plan on being ready by 4:30 so we can get ready."
The second message read: "And plan on stopping by tomorrow night at 7. I want to inspect my cock."
Josiah scowled.
"My cock."
It was, indeed, her cock, at least according to the settlement he'd signed to keep from getting evicted. He was legally required to help her out with her shows as a result.
Those shows just involved him in chastity, was all, and she'd held onto the key ever since the settlement.
But sometimes Josiah could almost pretend things were normal. Sometimes he could pretend to just be a regular guy hanging out with Sofia at a bar on the night before Thanksgiving, partying before a Friday and a long weekend during which no one was really going to be doing much work anyway, especially in Sofia's field. Sometimes he could almost forget about the fact that his penis was stuck in a metal cage.
But Lady Lynne was never far away.
"Yes ma'am," he replied. "I'll be there."
He got the drinks and returned to the table where Sofia sat, scrolling through her phone. She looked up and smiled when he sat down across from her.
"OK," she said. "I promise I'll leave you alone about this. But I got to know. Do you have, like, a favorite kind of shoe?"
***
Lady Lynne lived in an ancient Victorian house in Upper Acidalia a few miles from the place Josiah rented from her and from a number of her other properties. She lived alone and, as far as Josiah knew, she always had. She'd never been married and never seemed to have wanted to be married. She fucked submissive men whenever she wanted, took a few of them on as her manservants from time to time, but never stayed with them long. Her shows at the Lepidoptera Theatre were only part fantasy -- she really did live the femdom lifestyle.
She grinned a wolf's grin at Josiah when she answered the door.
She still looked dressed from work -- slacks and a blouse -- and came off deceptively normal. He knew better there though.
"Josiah," she said, her voice exploding into a silver cloud in the frigid night. "Good to see you. And you're even early."
He was a bit early. But he knew damn well that he didn't want to be late either.
"Good to see you too, ma'am," he said through gritted teeth, resigned to his fate.
"Come inside," she said, and he followed her into the dark hardwood interior of the house, her high heels clacking on the hard surface.
It smelled like she'd been cooking -- or maybe one of her servants, now out of sight, had been cooking for her -- all warm spices against the chill outside.
He kept his head down and followed her through the dim parlor, up the narrow stairs. He didn't want to acknowledge the fact that Lady Lynne had a perfect fucking ass -- that watching it through only the thin black fabric of her slacks was making his penis swell in its metal prison -- but she did.
She was maybe in her early 40s or so -- a bit older than him -- and had been nothing but extremely cruel to him. He didn't *want* to want her sexually. But he did.
He followed her into her bedroom off the small, tight hallway. The room was a circular one; this was the interior of the house's turret. She closed the door behind them.
"All right," she said, and crossed her arms over her ample chest, gave him a stern glare through her glasses. "Strip. I want to see my cock."
Josiah gritted his teeth again, but knew there wasn't anything he could do. If he refused this, she could report him as being in violation of the agreement he'd signed to settle the eviction case. And if *that* happened she'd be able to kick him out of his apartment without further ado.
Acidalia was a lot of things these days, but "affordable" was not one of them. Especially on Josiah's post-divorce salary.
He slipped off his shirt and then stepped out of his shoes, dropped his pants, standing before her in nothing but his boxers.
The smugness rolled off Lady Lynne in waves. She raised her eyebrows hands on her hips now.