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Confessions of a Foot Domme

A Short Foot Fetish Erotica

By SJ SilverPublished 3 years ago 10 min read
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Pexels @ Pixabay

There are so many niche fetishes that come under the blanket term of ‘foot fetish’ – socks, shoes, feet, heels… It doesn’t matter which scenario floats your goat, if you jack it over feet or foot-related items then you’re more than likely to have a foot kink or fetish. My name is Queen Bryanna and I am a Dominatrix who specialises in the foot fetish niche.

One of my favourite clients is a naughty little weirdo nicknamed ‘ToeJack’, and he is an absolute sucker for pretty, pink feet. We have foot sessions every other week and I’m always amused when I see his pathetically tiny cock getting rock hard as soon as he sees my perfect size 6 feet and my plump, wriggling toes. I invite him over whenever I’ve had a stressful day of standing or walking and I need to unwind.

I think I have quite cute feet and I like nothing better than giving myself a DIY pedicure in the comfort of my home, especially after a long day of walking around! Sometimes I’ve been wearing heels at a dinner date, other times I’m trussed up in heavy hiking boots to walk the dogs through the English countryside. I own hundreds of different shoes for almost every outfit and occasion, but there’s no better feeling than setting my poor, tired feet free at the end of the day. Shoes can be so restricting, so much so that my feet can be left swollen and aching. That’s when I invite ToeJack over.

He’s never allowed to speak to me, usually because I’ve had a highly stressful day and by that point, I can never be bothered with a conversation. He just silently strips down to his ridiculous thong underwear and puts on a plain black eye mask that makes him look a bit like Zorro. Then he sits and awaits my command.

This evening I’m particularly frazzled, I spent the best part of the day getting my Christmas shopping finished and that involved traipsing around crowded stores in platform sneakers for several hours. I pour myself a glass of wine and sit down on the sofa to relax; ToeJack is already on his knees in front of my seat ready to become a human footstool.

After a few sips of red wine, I start to feel the stress dissipating. I untie the laces on my dirty, white shoes as ToeJack watches. I peel off my sweaty, smelly socks in a slow and sensual striptease before using one of them to slap my little foot-slut, who breathes in deeply to savour their aroma. I stroke his face then pull down his bottom lip; he doesn’t resist at all as I open his mouth and tuck my damp, nasty sock inside. He closed his mouth again, gratefully accepting my foot filth; and I thrust my clammy feet in his face, silently demanding a massage.

ToeJack is more than happy to obey; his huge hands are perfect for grinding and massaging feet. It’s not long before I’m in heaven; I lie back and continue to drink my wine, moaning slightly whenever ToeJack hits a particularly tender spot.

The perverted little sock fiend clearly enjoyed watching me peel off my socks, because he had a small, odd-shaped bulge in the front of his ridiculous underwear. I could see he was itching to lick my wrinkled soles.

When my feet ached less, I withdrew them from his eager fingers and finally spoke, “You may use my shoes.”

Excitement propelled him into action; he snatched up my old trainers and whipped off his mask. This was a special, rare treat for him – I was planning on throwing away these old, gross shoes so he may as well do what he wants with them. I slouched back into the soft cushions again and watched his bizarre actions for my own amusement.

With his mask now removed, ToeJack buried his face into my sneaker and sniffed fervently as he buried his nose and mouth into the opening of my shoe. He then used his mask to tightly tie the footwear in place, so that he was wearing it like some sort of bizarre breathing apparatus. He then picked up the other sneaker and pulled his silly red thong down his thighs. His stubby little prick stood to attention like a spring doorstop and he placed my shoe over the tip of his miniscule prick and began to jerk himself off with reckless abandon. All the while he made weird little grunts and yowls, until he finally let out a strangled squawk and three pathetic little sploodges of cum.

I got up and went to the kitchen to fill up a personal foot spa with water and called for ToeJack to come and carry the heavy, full machine back to the lounge. I poured a second glass of wine and brought it in, putting it down on the end table. ToeJack had already plugged in and started up the spa machine, so I wandered around the house barefoot to get changed in to my dressing gown and fetch my pedicure bag. I flopped down on the sofa once more, picked up my glass, and pulled out the book I was currently reading; thankful for finally being able to get some peace in my day.

ToeJack sprang into action, taking care of my pedicure as I reclined and soaked-in the thriller that had been sat waiting for me. He picked up my left foot first and began licking it all over; let his tongue explore the crevices between my toes and the delicate curve of my arches and lapping up the sweat and dirt before putting it into the bubbling foot bath and repeating the process with my right foot.

He waited silently for fifteen minutes to give my tough skin time to soften, and then he exfoliated my feet with a pumice stone until they were sensitive and pink. He let them soak for another quarter of an hour, patted them dry, slathered them in moisturiser then cleaned away the foot spa. I love the feeling of the cold, slippery moisturiser trickling down my sensitive pink soles and it looked like my feet had taken part in a bukakke gang-bang.

ToeJack trotted back into the living room and dropped to his knees once again, his thin pecker bouncing inside his thong. I carried on reading, determined to finish the chapter I was on before bedtime. The sound of the pedicure bag zipper broke the silence and ToeJack rummaged around trying to find the tools he needed. As I slouched there, he removed my old, chipped toenail polish, trimmed and filed my nails, and prepared my feet for a splash of colour. I have so many polish colours now that I can hardly decide; so I always let him choose. Tonight he picked out a deep, glittering blue.

I usually enjoy painting my own toenails, but it takes time, concentration, dedication, and care to paint nails; so it’s the perfect submissives task! Not only do they have to do a good, neat job - they also have to do the whole thing without tickling my sensitive little feet, so ToeJack had quite the challenge ahead of him.

My skin is hypersensitive to touch, so even the smallest tremble of breath can leave me tickled and uncomfortable. Sometimes I even make my foot slaves hold their breath because I loathe having my feet tickled that much! Accidents can still happen, but my slaves are expected to be hyper-vigilant. The first time I’m tickled, they get a foot in their face quite quickly; a sharp, forceful action to ground their thoughts. A second tickle gets them a good kick; I really like to mash my foot into their face, squashing their nose and mouth with my soles as hard as I can.

If they continue to make mistakes then they will get a good slap, first with my hand and then with whatever object is closest to me. A fifth mistake will earn them a dismissal; if they can’t do their job properly I’ll just do it myself! However, if they do a good job then they’re allowed to worship my feet - once the nail polish has dried!

ToeJack was a seasoned veteran when it came to painting toenails, mainly because he had received many kicks to the face and several dismissals in the past. He had now mastered the art of slowing his breathing down to imperceptible levels despite his arousal and excitement. He gently moved my feet around, touching them lightly but firmly so as not to tickle me and invoke my wrath. When he was finished with his job, he blew hard on them for several minutes until he went purple in the face, but he didn’t stop blowing until they were dry. He clearly already knew he had done a good job and not tickled me once, so he anticipated a good reward.

I have two different rewards for subs that manage to pass the pedicure dexterity test. If they’ve done a good job then I usually allow them around 20 minutes to lick, caress and suck my sexy little toes. I love feeling their tongue swirling around and pushing all five toes into their mouth to gag them.

If they’ve done a nice job of my toenails but have almost struck-out on tickling then I dismiss them before they can cum, then I take loads of foot photos and videos of me having fun without them to show them what they’re missing out on

If they’ve done a really good job, I’ll allow them to touch their pathetic little genitals whilst they worship. From the look on his face, ToeJack was praying for the grand prize.

I pulled my foot up close to my face, raising my leg up and letting my dressing gown fall away from my thigh. I inspected the quality of his work and admired the beautiful choice of nail polish colour. “Good job,” I said, “Assume position two.”

A smile erupted on his face and he turned around and lay on the floor, on his back with his head touching the sofa in between my legs. Then he wriggled out of his red underwear so that his small, equally red dick pointed up at the ceiling.

I parted my legs as I lifted them, bringing one foot to rest on his chest and one on his face and allowing him an unobstructed view up my silky dressing gown. I began to slowly and sensually rub my feet on him, caressing his face and torso simultaneously.

He took his little cock in his hand and began pumping away again, grunting and groaning as he masturbated with one hand and held my other foot while aggressively licking and sniffing it. The more frantic he got, the harder I rubbed his chest and stomach with the foot that wasn’t being sucked and the louder he moaned.

As he inched nearer to his second climax of the evening his arousal caused him to grope and lick me even harder. The harder he went, the more forceful I became with my feet; slapping, squashing, and squishing head, face, and chest under my bare soles.

The pace of his breathing quickened and his flabby skin began to jiggle faster, so I knew he was close to orgasm. I watched and waited. Just as ToeJack was about to cum, I stretched out my legs and dropped my feet heel-first on to his stomach with enough force to shock and completely wind him at the exact moment his hard little cock started twitching into orgasm.

It wasn’t hard enough to be painful but it was certainly uncomfortable for him! Just a small kick at the right moment left him gasping for breath and momentarily helpless and he writhed on the floor clutching his meagre dick.

ToeJack’s violent jerking sent torrents of hot cum squirting over my nice clean feet. Though I love the feeling of hot spunk dripping down my toes, he knows how much I disapprove of my pedicure getting sticky and ruined. The hot jizz was soon replaced by a hotter, wetter mouth as ToeJack began lapping up his own emissions from the ends of my toes. His time and experience as my foot slut has taught him the rules so well that I don’t even need to communicate verbally with him anymore, he knows what to expect and what is expected of him.

It’s great being able to control a slave with nothing but my foot - I hardly have to do anything at all! Once my foot treatment was complete, ToeJack put away my pedicure bag and silently left. I went to lie down on my bed and take a nap. In a few hours, my partner would be home from work and my own voracious sexual needs could be taken care of…

This story has been taken from my collection of short FemDom Erotica stories, which you can read for free on Amazon.

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About the Creator

SJ Silver

🌕🔮Marchioness du Strange🔮🌕

Connoisseur of all things dark and whimsical.

Your faithful guide to the weirder side.

I dabble in tits, art, and everything dark!

If you enjoy my writing please show my posts some love!

❤️🧡💛💚💙💜🖤🤍🤎

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