Secret Life of a Domestic Housewife

I remember the first time I saw Sam. He looked nervous but still well within his element with his laptop splayed in front of him.

We first met at a coffee shop to see if we would “click”, to see if that initial reaction to one another was there. It wasn’t so much about physical attraction but more like if our energies could blend the way we hoped.

He was in an arranged marriage to a wonderful woman who he legitimately adored. The only reason he was even toying with the idea of seeing me was that she wasn’t into kink and didn’t seem interested in trying any of it with him.

No judgment from me on the topic of course.

Sammie was incredibly respectful and kind. He was officially my first play partner tho I had played with others before him, he was “mine”. He dedicated himself to me and I welcomed it. Sam was a foot slave, that was his kink.

On the days I knew he would be visiting I made sure to wear boots. His submissive act of taking them off, watching him enjoy each careful movement was exciting to me. Watching how gently and tenderly he would unzip or unlace my footwear. Seeing him as he would graze my calves with his fingertips, how he would inhale whatever scent of sweat and musk my feet produced, he truly enjoyed his submission.

Personally, if you ask me to touch your feet, I’m putting gloves on first. I don’t enjoy feet the way others do but watching someone love their kink is such an interesting and unique feeling in itself.

Sammie pampered me and spoiled me (at his choosing). He loved getting on his knees before me, waiting for me to pay him attention, give him direction.

“Sammie, why don’t you get out the foot spa.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

He would always make quick work of whatever I required. First, he would warm the water, rinse the basin then fill it up. He wasn’t one for creativity but would eagerly play with scents and oils when I asked him for a blend. Watching him prepare immediately created a calming sensation in my body. He would get everything needed and line it up on the floor so he could easily reach it.

I never had to say too much to him. The water was at the perfect temperature every time. The scents he would create would immediately start to soothe my soul the moment he guided my feet into the high walled pail.

He never used tools beyond his hands and face. Yes, you read that correctly.

He would use his cupped hands to pour water down my lower leg, touching, massaging as he went and when he felt ready he would lift my foot from the water and use various parts of his face against the bottoms of my feet. Rubbing and pressing his nose and cheeks against my high arches and even in-between my toes, he seemed to love using his chin and facial hair against my heels. At the end of the water bath, he would massage oils or lotions into my skin using his hands and finishing off with his beard or goatee, whatever he was growing out.

Before Sammie, I was hardpressed to allow anyone to touch my feet, I didn’t enjoy it at all and I was very ticklish. Now the tickles didn’t stop just because I was in love with watching his submission, but it was much more controlled. I knew when he would appreciate and react to my giggles so I allowed myself moments, showing him how much happiness it brought me. Not pulling away from him but pushing my foot harder against him. Watching as his body would collapse a little under the weight and pressure. He allowed himself to be completely enveloped with our moments and rituals.

Sammie was devoted and I loved and appreciated that devotion so much I even threw a little party with him as the focal point. The girls’ spa night was an absolute success. I was excited to show Sammie off as the perfect foot slave. I had two others in my service who tended the party as well, helping to care for my guests but without a doubt, Sammie was the star. The other Dommes fawned over his submission and manners.

He served each Domme there that night who was comfortable with his submission, others just watched in awe or confusion. He cared for each one with such passion and tenderness that they commented for weeks afterward about how much luck I had to of found him.

I agree, I was lucky to have Sammie. He was my first submissive and I didn’t even have to train him, he gave me a taste of something I have never forgotten, and it has grown and matured over the years.

I still think about him and his service to me even after so much time has passed.