Tag Archives: Femdom Feet

TEA & ROOFTOPS

He was Her husband. But he was also Her slave. They were very discreet about it though, nobody knew or suspected a thing. Until … two of Her closest friends dropped by for a visit. Everything went well at first; harmless chatter, tea & biscuits. But then, out of the blue, his Wife (aka his Mistress) looked at him and said: Come here, slave.
The stirring stopped and you could hear a tea leaf drop. He didn’t know where to look and his face turned bright red.
He’s My slave, She explained, almost apologetically. He obeys Me in everything, literally everything. It’s wonderful and I can heartily recommend it. She looked at Her husband again. Don’t be shy, pet. Come here. On your knees. There we go, that’s a good boy.
The Ladies looked at Her (and him) with new eyes … and started laughing. And jeering. It was utterly humiliating and he looked helpless and lost. But his Mistress was right (as always), there was nothing he wouldn’t do for Her. Furthermore, She was the boss and She could do with him as She pleased. It was, in other words, a perfect marriage.
She took off one of Her high-heeled shoes and pressed it against his face.
Hold it in place, She commanded.
The delicious aroma of Her shoe made him dizzy. Waves of delight overtook him and he moaned loudly. The Ladies shrieked and laughed. Their voices stumbled over each other. When did it start? And how? Had She trained him? Did She punish him? REALLY? How?
He could only listen to half of it because he was completely absorbed in his own world. And Her shoe. He was a slave, HER slave, and was now ready to shout it from the rooftops.

ONE KISS AWAY

You’ve been staring at My feet for months now, She said, I think you’re ready to kiss them.
He wriggled nervously in his chair: No, haha, thank You. Yes, You have beauti- but no, no, haha.
He was a quiet man, a bachelor and a passionate bookkeeper. He lived in a small house with four goldfish, named Ollie, Mollie, Hollie and Fred. He lived a perfect life and never asked for more. But then he met Lady Grace and everything changed. Even his scrotum, which had been in lockdown since early childhood, was now boiling and steaming like a geyser.
Kneel down, that’s all there is to it, She said.
Oh, heavens above, he blushed, no, I would never do that, never ever.
She crossed Her legs and dangled Her heel from Her foot.
Are you sure? She asked with a teasing smile.
His eyes were glued to Her foot and he was breathing heavily. Turned out his “never-ever” lasted only 27 seconds, then he slid off his chair onto the floor and crawled to Her feet.
That’s better. You may address Me as Princess Ingrid. And now I want you to beg for permission to worship My feet.
Oh God, p.please Princess, I humbly ask Your permission to kiss Your feet. I beg You.
She smiled down on him. He had no idea he was just ten centimeters away from a new, everlasting addiction, and just one kiss away from a life in slavery.

KISS HER FEET

When She comes home, he will greet Her and kiss Her feet. She doesn’t have to say anything; he’s a well-trained slave and he knows what to do. And when to do it.
This simple gesture of respect, obedience and devotion reinforces Her absolute power over him and his submission to Her. It puts him in his place, because in order to kiss Her fet, he has to kneel down, get down on his belly even, with his head almost to the floor. It’s such a beautiful and powerful symbol of Her supremacy.
One day the mighty Byzantine general Flavius Belisarius (500-565 AD) prostrated himself at the feet of his Wife Antonina. He kissed and licked the soles of Her feet with his tongue, crying that She was his reason for living and that he would be Her faithful slave, instead of Her Lord and Master. Now, if a general knows how to honour a Lady, so can we. So show some respect.