Noreen is a beautiful girl with a nice smile and long legs. She is very cute, almost like a Barbie girl, her long hair beautifully framing her face. She loves flowers and that’s why her high heels shoes have floral prints on it. I find this detail as very cute especially seeing her big toe with its black painted nail through the cut tip of the shoe. It is impossible not to adore Noreen’s smooth soles. As she is sitting there on the armchair I find myself caressing her legs, massaging her feet, kissing her soles. Getting to her toes, I am anxious to lick every one of her nail, to suck her meaty big toe. She is so happy to make me feel good, knowing my special pleasure for beautiful feet.
I had to take yoga class with Miss Agathe and several other women, and the whole time I was positioned behind Miss Agathe. I could not help gazing at the sexy balls of her size 9 feet when she was working out on her stomach on the mat. Several times during the class I noticed her looking sternly at me, as I had been sneaking peeks at other women in the class. I could not help but look, as they all had attractive feet and nice bodies.
When we got back to her apartment, she sat down and pointed to a spot on the floor just below her bed.
I knelt down, untied her gym shoes and removed her socks. I knew what to do.
“This should cure your little FOOT fetish. SUCK all the sweat from my feet! And IF I ever catch you looking at other women’s feet again I will paddle you even HARDER than I will tonight.”
I gulped and licked up every trace of perspiration from her hot, stinky, salty warm bare feet. Little did she know that I loved every minute of that and I was enjoying the taste, scent and smell of her warm bare feet.
Soon it showed that I was enjoying the moment when an erection sprang from my gym shorts.
Miss Agathe commanded, “Fetch the flyswatter.”
I did and knelt once again before her tall figure. I felt quite belittled by the mere presence of her tall, muscular figure, shapely body and legs, but most of all I adored her feet.
“Pull down those shorts, I wanna see your manhood, the one that makes you stare at women’s feet.”
I did, and she delivered several smacks with the flyswatter to the mushroom head of my throbbing hard-on, resulting in it becoming more swollen and purple in color.
“From now on, you are MY foot slave, and you will do whatever I say, or I will tell ALL of the women that you know at yoga class about you foot fetish. Is that understood?”
I nodded in total disbelief, but I remembered to say, “Yes ma’am,” as I saw her playing with the flyswatter out of the corner of my eye, waiting for an opportunity to use it once again.
Mistress Lana’s foot boy’s gratification is of no concern to her; however, he’s learned to relish the humble fulfillment that comes from worshiping her dirty, sweaty, smelly, size 9 feet. In her mind, she is doing him a great favor by allowing him to wash her lovely feet with his tongue. She knows that he loves doing exactly what she wants him to do, and he feels indebted to her for allowing him to do it. “I’ve got him wrapped around my little toe. My foot boy is required to earn the privilege of worshiping my dirty feet with his complete subservience to me,” she states confidently.