At The Goddesss Feet

Naked, and bound, I wait for her. My senses are on high alert and from this kneeling position, my skin is needled with sharp pinpricks of heat from the numerous black candles that encircle me. My mind drifts and the scent of burning candle wax transports me to a demoniac ceremony. I feel vulnerable trussed up here like a sacrifice, and I wonder what my Goddess has planned for the copious drippings of hot wax that surround me.

The air in the room shifts as she approaches. My head reels with her heady scent of violets and roses. I can't decide if the sound of her heels clicking their way across the room is more exciting or frightening. When she stops before me, instinctively I bow my head as low as possible, stretching my taught arms that are laced tightly behind me. I shudder with both a mix of fear and delight as she places her black patent leather boot on the back of my head encouraging my face to press all the way to the floor. Through the strain of her force, I softly thank her for correcting my posture in no more than the faintest whisper really. I am not sure if it is a mistake or a welcome observation after I have uttered the servile statement. I wait for the sting of her whip in response but breathe a sigh of relief when it does not come. Perchance she agrees with me after all.

She sits down in the chair before me and I am yanked up by my leash. The rush of air lets me know what's coming, and my face is 'kissed' hard by her open palm. A haughty Queen at her throne, she playfully kicks at my "manhood", amused by the trinket and the unyielding ardor she inspires in it. I should have known that my words would not be welcome to her ears. When will I learn?

Despite the cruel ministrations- or because of them, my body betrays me, her toy grows and points to its rightful owner, silently pleading for more attention. It is her property, and she delights in bringing it endless frustration with no real hope of release.

She has kept me in this perpetually excited state for weeks. And again I ache my plums tight, swollen, and DENIED. She reaches down and takes Her time harshly binding them. A vice-like extension of her own fatal grip, and I am left enduring, longing, lusting. A steady stream of precummy tears weeps shamelessly to the floor below, and I know my slut tongue will have some clean-up to do later.

The music of leather straps flitting casually through the air informs me that she is armed with the flogger I had presented to her the first time we met. Invisible scars glow white hot as my body burns with the memory of the last time my Perfect Priestess saw fit to discipline me.

I feel her foot bound in sleek, shiny leather trace its way languidly up my body, rubbing across my cheek, before resting firmly against my shuddering lips. I am so close, separated only by the thinnest patina of supple leather. I am oh so hungry for the steamy, sweaty treat encased within. Here is where I belong, my place in this world. With my highest and most valued element: my head, down there at her lowest part- the very bottoms of her black, commanding boots.

She commences to guide me carefully now, as I lap, suck, lick and clean, her red-nailed hand clutching the leash ensures that I won't miss a single spot despite the mindless passion that surges as I threaten to lose my control. I suck the holy altar of Her boot heel to a hard-earned shine, and I kiss the ankle as she directs me. And I am GRATEFUL. Not only am I honoring her by polishing her boot soles to a glossy finish, but I am washing away my independence with every devoted lick.

All too quickly my prize is ripped away, my tongue left flicking the open air, and momentarily I feel like a slavering fool. Gasping, I am empty inside...until I hear the unmistakable and incomparable sound of dangerous fingers unzipping those heart-stopping boots. With a soft tug, her glorious foot is released from its hot, steamy prison, and the heat rises up to greet me. Flexing her foot audibly stretches the sweet stockings rising up her long and perfect silken legs, and with a flood of endorphins I am fixated in her thrall. Flaunting her power, she both ignores and teases me, running her hands up and down her luxurious hose with a soft sigh. My rapt attention is unrequited as she effortlessly brings me to a place of desperate desire.

She extends a leg and holds her foot, just at the very tip of my nose. My self-control surprises us both. I inhale deeply, my eyes closed for I know I will feel the sting of the crop if I dare make eye contact, using the scent to envision the curves of her foot, tracing the contours of its perfection so that I can almost see it. I listen to the distinct crackle of the nylon spreading as she fans out her toes, and I desire to bury my nose in that gap and sniff my will away. But she holds back, smugly satisfied by her control over me and the blissful devotion inspired by the perfume of her sweaty stockinged feet.

Though forbidden to speak, the scent eats away at my brain like a corrosive, and I whimper an involuntary "thank you" as my eyes roll back under my tightly closed eyelids. The rest of the world fades away and with a jerk of my leash, I enter heaven. I feel her tension melting away (or is it my own?) as my tongue gives her the most adoring massage my servile heart can muster. Her sighs of pleasure serve only to send me deeper into submission, tasting her sweetness while she takes my soul.

Gently I kiss her tender arch, rub my nose against it and suck on her heel. If I thought her foot aroma was delicious before, being this close, feeling the dewiness of her exquisite perspiration I am completely intoxicated. The sateen razor-thin mesh of her stockings prickles my tongue as I lick at the holy undersides of her perfect and dainty feminine feet. My heart bursts with gratitude as she allows me to take her beautiful red-painted toes into my hungry mouth, bathing and worshiping them one by one. I honor each one with sucks and kisses as she indulges my addiction. I deep-throat her foot, sucking for all I'm worth as she points her toes gracefully and commences to slowly fuck my open drooling lips.

The cool of my hungry mouth washes away the heat and sweat, eliciting more sighs from my Goddess. Her sounds of contentment are a reminder that this kind of worship is not for my pleasure, this is for her. Aways for her. Yet I lie to myself even then, for this is a pleasure like no other. It always has been this way for me, right from my first sexual feelings about stiletto shoes and perfect women's feet rose in my boyhood daydreams.

I try to focus but my mind steadily recedes, dragged away by the thrall of this perfect drug. I lose myself to it all, licking, sucking, inhaling, and worshiping- her. The high arches, her toes, her heels her pads. Lavishing the soft tops of her feet clad in perfect skin and delicate ankles with earnest kisses, silently expressing my ardor the only way a pet like me can. She sees me as I truly am, a puppy on a leash, and I wonder if I'll ever earn the privilege of kissing any higher. Savoring the exquisite smells and exotic taste, these are the feet of Royalty, the most precious thing in my world, and I am humbled just to be beneath them, where I belong.

I am yanked from my reverie by the sting of her flogger dancing across my backside. Hot and red heat rising. How long had she been hitting me? It doesn't matter. I embrace the pain she favors me with and continue to smother my idol with kisses.

When her foot is ripped away my heart goes with it. When it is replaced by the handle of her flogger, I kiss that with equal abandon, in thanks for the cruel welts it has raised. I love what she can do to me. Her delicious cruelty has made my life better through suffering for her. Her abuse teaches me about myself, and she exploits my weaknesses with such ease. She sinks her foot into my crotch, stepping down and pressing it firmly to the floor. As she crushes and emasculates my eggs, my pride flattens with it, diligently ground into the finest of powder, and I can only crave more. The silk of her toes becomes weapons of destruction, tormenting the denied without a hint of mercy. And why not? I'm her property, she can treat it however she pleases. It's right. It's natural.

Just before abandoning me, she speaks for the first time: "Don't worry, you'll learn to love it," she says arrogantly.

I already do...