We are the cursed. We are the condemned. The medicine to our ailment is in the system of Gacrux. Many of us believe they can get there in their lifetimes, only to end up at a candle light nearby. We can only reach the illusions of our fantasies, the projections of them on the screen, or common acts sauced up to the point of incongruity. The diamonds we reach out and grab turn to dust. Truth is we will never reach the prize under the rainbow and we will end up taking our unfulfilled fantasies to the grave.
But we can pretend. This is the story of how I had my first real satisfaction; heavenly and mesmerizing. Sometimes your best partner is your reflection; yourself in the opposite sex. Yes, sometimes the best way to correct the jacket sleeve turned inside-out is to wear it. Thus was my experience and I am grateful to Her.
We all have vague memories. Family friends coming to our homes, taking off shoes. There, in our own domain, women from the outside world were showering us with praises and affection. Maybe they really found us cute or maybe they just did their part as guests. Either way, we had no clue about what conversations were happening while they chatted with our parents. But a part of them was looking at us and talking to us: their feet! Sometimes those feet talked to us through smell also, and when that aroma reached our noses it was ours. We could take it to our rooms.
Then we started school and our fetish intensified. We saw our teacher dangling her shoe, we felt the feet of our classmate on our leg during circle times, we saw a secretary air her feet in the office. Everywhere, everywhere we could see aromatic, precious feet. But we were not aware that we even looked at, tried to sniff or touch them.
And then came high school. Our friends started dating girls. They started talking about how they penetrated their girlfriends on the sofa or in the restroom, they talked about doggy style and this and that. These didn't excite us nowhere near to seeing our classmates pop their heels off during class. My best friend used to buy Playboy and we went to the restroom to jack off together. He was looking at the pussies and tits, I was focused on the feet. He never knew.
Of course that was before internet. And then came internet. When I found out a website dedicated to my fetish, I was shocked. Up to then I was thinking I was an anomaly but then others had the same kind of fantasies; stinky feet, giantess feet, dangling, trample, toe sucking, etc. Perhaps the feeling is akin to what we will experience when we find alien life that is similar to ours. So, this made my fantasies official. I was officially a foot fetishist. Hooray, I guess.
Then I found about shoes.com.br in college. How many of us have been there? The first world-renown fetish chat room. Needless to say, I was addicted. My grades took a toll but it couldn't be helped. My fetish was now fully grown. I chatted voraciously. Some of my chats were incredibly real.
One time, a girl hundreds of miles away chatted with me for an hour. It was a brief chat, but she told me how she was barefoot at that moment and how she liked her feet to be licked and how she would like to do it with me. Then she asked for money to buy a plane ticket. She gave me her phone number and I promised to send her the money but when I called a guy picked up. When I emailed her about it she told that was just her friend. That's when I started to realize at least half of those whom I chatted with were fake.
That slap in the face made me focus back in the real world. I needed to find a girlfriend. There was no remedy online. But the real world offered me a dull face, boring conversations, group hangouts, and a lot of expense. I finally started dating a friend's girlfriend's friend. Her feet were the only attractive part for me but in our conversations her feet were left out. They simply were not in the picture. She might as well could have been having wheels instead of feet. Our relation stalled after a year.
I got back into chatting online. I chatted with a grain of salt, but when I got into it I did not think much. The other side might be a male pretending to be a female, but either way I enjoyed the chat about making me lie down and standing on my face with smelly nylon stockings etc. At this point, my fetish had turned into an itch and I just had to scratch it, until..
Until I finally arranged to meet with a domme who was local! I was super stoked. I made images in my mind: long shiny black hair; blue, penetrating eyes; long smooth legs, perfect ankles etc. I waited next to the bus stop we had agreed on. Soon she came, and she was nothing like how I imagined her. Yet, I was still excited. This was my first time meeting someone who knew about my fetish. I could have loved her just for that.
It turned out she had 4 other slaves. One was a gourmet, another a pilot, another a lawyer, another one, I forgot. She used them each for different purposes. She used me to do research for her master's thesis. I obliged. Finally the grand day came. She asked me to rent a room. She would come in and we would do some photo shoot of her feet, followed by whatever the moment brought. I got my black and white film ready. I had a good camera. She came a bit late and then told me she only had an hour and a half before she met with the next slave.
Quickly I set up some decor while she lay on the sofa with her brown ankle-boots on. It was a chilly autumn day. She was short and her shoe size was around 6. That excited me as I like small feet (big ones have their charms too). Finally I set up the camera and we were good to go. She said "Take off my boots." I knelt beside her feet and took one boot in my hands. She saw that I was shy, asked, "Have you taken off boots for anyone else before?" I shook my head while looking with penitent eyes.
"Untie it," she ordered. When she needed to, she was firm, but she could also have a regular conversation with me at a cafe or restaurant. I liked that. I untied her boot and started pulling it. "You are going to pull of my foot you silly!" she said and she ordered me to loosen the laces first. I finally managed to slip off her boot. I pulled the boot out, put it on the floor, and then turned to her foot and trembled with excitement. Her foot was extremely shapely inside grey socks.
I stuttered, "They a..a..are gorgeous!"
She said, "You haven't seen my foot yet, silly. Take off my socks."
I slipped her socks down her ankle and then across her sole and finally over her toes. Her foot was really beautiful. If I had to rate, they were 5 out of 5 while her face was like 3. I was falling in love. We did not play. Instead we got to the photoshoot. I took two rolls of pictures of her bare feet in different poses. I had bought grapes, so we took some with grapes between her toes. After that shot I asked her if I could take the grapes off her toes with my lips. She said yes. I bent over and took her toes in my mouth and pulled the grapes with my lips. That was the first ever time my mouth had touched feet.
After the photo shoot she asked me to wash her feet, so I got a big bowl of water and washed them. The session was almost over. She said she needed to pee. I told her the restroom was there. She said, with an expecting voice, "But the floor is tile and will be cold." I asked if she would like me to carry her there, she said no with a disappointment and walked to the restroom.