("`-''-/").___..--''"`-._ `6_ 6 ) `-. ( ).`-.__.`) (_Y_.)' ._ ) `._ `. ``-..-' _..`--'_..-_/ /--'_.' ,' (((' (((-((('' (((( K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N _________________________________________ WARNING! This text file contains sexually explicit material. If you do not wish to read this type of literature, or you are under age, PLEASE DELETE THIS FILE NOW!!!! _________________________________________ Scroll down to view text Archive name: o-06.txt (Fdom/f, Foot Fetish) Authors name: SafeWord (anonymous) Story title : O-2000 - Stepsister - Part 6 ------------------------------------------------------ -= This work is copyrighted to the author =- Please do not remove the author information or make any changes to this story. You may post freely to non- commercial "free" sites, or in the "free" area of commercial sites. Thank you for your consideration. ------------------------------------------------------ O-2000 - Part 6 (Fdom/f, Foot Fetish) By "SafeWord" Dedicated to: Deitre, Who could say more in fewer words than I'll ever manage to: Lenny Bruce for his courage to: "O" Chapter 6: Coming out Party : Homage & Reward : Don't You Need: *** Catcalls from behind "have a good time!" Cindy's voice "the vibe on her pussy, reward her if, she's good." A door opening. Lead in. Door closed. Behind me. "...Now, what am I going to do with you?" "Do you talk, Child?" "If you want me to?" "...No, I guess not, you're very lovely, you know." Hands. Fingernails trace a line on my hip. Light touches. "Turn around, Angel." I turn away from this stranger. Touches on my bum. Still numb. Throbbing. "I bet that hurts. What did you do?" Should I ...Answer? "Oh Yeah, I forgot, I Told you not too, Cripes! I'm more nervous than you are!" "...You sure are good at obeying orders!" The chain lease released. Coldness of metal between my breasts. A giggle. "...Lets see how good. Kneel down Honey." I kneel on the floor. The bed creaks in front of me. "Shit! the door." Fast steps. "Locked, Good!" Steps returning to my front. Bed sounds again. She giggles "...take my shoes off...slave." Puzzlement? My arms gloved behind my back. Tied. "Oh double shit, I'm no good at this, sorry, let me take that off you." "...I want to feel your hands...on me." Bed again. Hands pulling at laces behind me. My hands pulled out of the glove. Lips touch my fingers. The bed groans, again. "Ok...Angel...take em off...worship me." I reach out my hands searching to obey. "Oh Sorry." Her shoe touches one of my searching hands. Allowing. My duty. To continue. "Oh...I wish I could take that hood off, but I don't think that's allowed?" I do not speak. Answer unknown to one who serves. Issues too complicated to contemplate. By one. Such as I. Simple things mine. I hold her ankle in my hand. Slide her shoe off. My hand on her ankle slides down. Palm upward. Supports her heel. She settles the weight of it into my palm. She wears nylons. The mesh touch of rough silkiness on my hand. Soft. Smell of leather. Smell of sweat. Sweet. Smell of her. I place her shoe on the floor. Gently. Noiselessly. I raise my hand and cradle her foot now in both of my hands. Small weight of it supported completely by my hands? Should I put down this one down? To find the other? Distress of a slave in the simplest commands. Trying to please. To obey. Perfectly. Desire to fulfill another's desires. Paramount. Obsessive. "Kiss it" Breathless command. Her lust charging the room with energy. Tiny foot in my hand tensing. Her intent known. I lean forward. My lips press lightly on her foot. Then again on the tops of her toes. Gentle homage, slowly. Silently. I draw a long intake of breath. In through my nostrils. Now. So close. To her toes. Inhale fragrant essence of mistress. Into my being. Memory. Forever. A slaves sneaky fulfilling. Of personal obsessive fetish. A slave's fetish. For humility. I twist my head. Over sideways. Twisted upward. Kiss her instep. Pressing stretched nylon upward, until... Flesh of foot. Meets. Flesh of lips. Separated only by microns. Of decorative textile. Her voice calls me. From. My duty. My homage. "Oh! sweet Jesus!, honey, oh I need..." Sharp, fast, distressed, urgent, command "Sit up." My object of worship. Wrenched from my. Cradled hands. My head. Still turned. To carry. My lips. Pursed To touch. Kiss. Her feet. I slowly draw back. On my heels. My hands still together. Extended. Offered. Her form brushes me as she rises. Sound of clothing. Removed. Panic of zippers and silk sliding. Small curses against obstinate cloth impeding frantic human need. Lust and smell of musk, hot perfumed pheromones of female desire. Her hands on my head. No commands. Urgent. Pulling of my head forward into her loins. My face pressed into hair and heat. Nose mashed into the Hot Wetness Of her. Sprayed. Swollen. Open. Slick. Female Folds. My lips taste, oils, juices, fluids of her passion. Whimpers, Pleas from above, "Suck me, honey, oh! Suck me, Please honey, please suck..." My lips have no time to satisfy her need. My tongue no time to taste, lick her. No time to suck. Time past need. Fulfillment released. Cries and groans and whimpers. Above me. Her hips buckle, lurch on my face. Grind my face into her. Pleasure. Her legs locked around my neck. Buckling, buckling...buckling. And rest, holding my head between her legs. Her legs opening, releasing my head. Her hand gentle, firmly pushing me away. From her. Heat of her loins now gone. Replaced by. Coolness of liquids, evaporating on my facial wetness. Back onto my heels, sitting, waiting. Her steps away. Water running, streaming. A hand draws my head backwards. A cold, wet facecloth. Partially wrung. Wipes across my lower face quickly. My leash jerked upwards in sharp haste. Jerked again. Physical command to move. Quickly. Pulled, firm steady pressure of pull. Command to follow. Door opening. Pulled again. I follow my leash. Sounds behind me of people talking. Snap of tiles from my heels on tile. Pull of leash downward. Downward double jerk on my neck. I drop to my knees on a hard tiled floor. A hand pushes me unto my backside. Pain, relieved by coldness of the floor. Wall behind me, supporting, cooling my naked back. Sound of the leash being secured. Patter of her bare feet on the tile floor. Receding... I sit waiting. For service. Thinking of... Her feet. I lick... My lips. Taste of her. Reward... Enough. Continued in part 7... ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author does not condone the described behavior in real life in anyway shape or form. Anyone tempted to act out any of the scenarios in this story; should seriously consider seeking professional help. ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ Kristen's collection - Directory 12