My Brown Sugar Domme

bytoesnbutts4me©

Her skin tone was a medium to dark brown. It had seemed darker in the photos she'd sent, but I didn't care either way. Her flesh seemed so soft and smooth that I just wanted to reach out and touch it. It had a delicious glow to it, which even penetrated the floral pattern of her dress. Just looking at her, into those disarming green eyes, at that radiant skin, and knowing her inner needs and desires, I wanted so dearly to see her naked, to run my hands and lips over every inch of every part of her.

She made no move to get up, but simply offered her well-manicured hand to me, beaming as she said, "So, this is my darling Matthew, is it? Very nice to meet you." Her smile - and what lay behind it - melted my soul.

Her greeting served to rouse me from my erotic musings, and I felt a quick stab of shame. But, then I saw a look in Tawny's eyes. She'd read my mind accurately, and was grinning most lasciviously at me. I quickly composed myself to the best of my ability, letting the twinge of shame fade completely. Then, remembering how Tawny liked her men well-mannered and romantic, I lifted her hand, bent over slightly at the waist, and kissed the tips of her glossy fingers. "Lovely to finally meet you, too," I said,smiling my most beguiling smile, then lowered my voice to add, "Princess Tawny." I could feel the rush of warmth to my face and knew instantly that I must be blushing.

Tawny smiled, knowing I must be embarrassed to say the word "princess" in public. She said nothing, but her knowing smile told all. She even chuckled a tiny bit as she said, "Please, join me, Matthew." Then, still smiling, she added, "Dine with your Princess." Unlike myself, she made no effort to lower the volume of her speech when she spoke the very word that I myself had to speak in an embarrassed whisper.

I sat across from her, still shaking a bit, my legs feeling rubbery. She seemed to enjoy my discomfiture, my fidgeting and initial clumsiness. But, at the same time, her eyes were sizing me up, cataloguing everything about me that they could gather in. Before she spoke again, I could swear she was actually looking at me as if I were a juicy slab of beef. She licked those red, full lips. I could see behind her eyes to the wicked machinations of her calculating brain.

Still making no attempt to lower her voice, she next said, "I've been looking forward to this for a long time, Matthew. Our chats and your emails have gotten me so hot over the last few months that I told myself when we met I'd have to fight the urge to eat you all up." She grinned her by now patented wicked grin and leaned forward, her elbows on the table and her head resting in the palms of her hands. She was looking at me that way again, sucking her lower lip, nodding as if she had confirmed something to herself. From second to second she seemed more and more like a circling shark, and I had become dinner.

"Well," I said, "I've really been anxious to meet you, too..." I looked around the room quickly, to see if anyone was near as I finished my sentence, "... Princess."

Tawny smiled, and I could see her actually squirming in her seat, not with nervousness, but rather she appeared to be getting more excited by the minute. She sighed deeply and stated quite boldly, "Well, I was hoping my little email presents might lure you into my nylon web, my sweet. It seems they worked. I know you liked them, Matthew, but I'd like to hear from your own lips exactly what you thought of them. Tell me, what did you think of when you opened each one? Give me juicy details."

I had no idea what to say. In fact, I nearly swallowed my tongue. It had been hard enough to try to convey my thoughts to her in writing, anonymously, without her seeing my facial expressions as I did so, let alone trying to speak them aloud here in a public place with her hungry eyes watching my every fidgeting movement . All I could manage was myself appearing as some idiotic stammering clown, sounding not unlike the cute but hopeless Elmer Fudd.

"Come now, Matthew," she said, sliding her hand over mine on the table, "surely you can tell your princess how much you enjoyed her photos. No one will hear. It's early for dinner, and there's hardly anyone here. So, tell me, did you enjoy the photos? What did you think of my ass? Did my feet turn you on? And what about my pussy - did it look as tasty as you dreamed it would?" She said all of this as if she'd been discussing the weather. But the clearly excited look in her eyes and the sensual, almost suggestive sucking she did on her index finger, gave me the clear message that she was getting aroused waiting for my replies.

Luckily - or perhaps unluckily - a waitress came by before I could answer. I let out a deep sigh of relief, feeling I'd gotten a brief reprieve. In less than a minute, I was to find out that this was simply not so.

"Sorry I didn't get here sooner," the waitress said, "I didn't realize both of you had arrived. I thought you were still waiting for your other party, ma'am."

"That's quite all right," Tawny answered, diverting her gaze from me to properly address our server. "No harm done," she added.

"Great, then here are your menus. Would you like something from the bar to start off?"

"Yes, actually, I would," Tawny answered. "I'd like a white Zinfandel, please."

When the waitress nodded and then looked at me, I said, "I'll have a Killian's, if you've got it on tap."

"Yes, we do," she replied, "and I'll be right back with those, and to take your orders."

Just as the waitress scribbled on her pad and turned away, I felt something on my knees. I immediately looked down, and proceeded to sweat. Each knee had become the resting place of one of Tawny's bare feet. The answer to my earlier question about matching nail polish was answered; her toes were indeed adorned with the same sexy white tips as her fingernails. I smiled as I saw the darker skin of her insteps for the first time... and sighed, too. Even her feet radiated that delectable, healthy glow.

"Oh," Tawny cooed, the sarcasm clear even after only the first word, "I hope my little foot boy doesn't mind his Princess resting her feet on him for a while?" She knew damn well I wasn't going to ruin her fun, but nonetheless the look in her eyes said, "I dare you to say you do mind... I DARE you!" I was NOT about to fall into THAT trap.

I swallowed hard. I knew Tawny loved expressing her dominant side, but I hadn't expected it to happen this quickly. I thought we'd talk for a few hours before she even THOUGHT about setting her bossy side free. Apparently, such was not to be the case. In just the few moments since we'd met, she felt comfortable enough with me to be... herself.

Before I spoke, I thought about my response. I didn't want to sink immediately into a submissive mode, yet I didn't want to ruin her mood, either, so I came up with this to say, "Of course not, Princess. Your comfort is ALWAYS my ONLY concern. Please make yourself as comfortable as you wish."

Her face beamed! Her eyes sparkled. Her teeth shone through a wide smile, and she sighed deeply. Then she sat back, looking so pleased and satisfied that I knew I'd scored a big hit. But, I found out then and there that Tawny would always be one step ahead of me.

"Really?" she asked, "as comfortable as I wish? My, that sounds so inviting. I don't mind if I do." As I wondered what that deliciously evil brain was concocting, Tawny licked her lower lip, deep in thought, then came to a decision, her grin nearly cleaving her face in two. "Lie down on the seat then, Matthew. I'll put my feet on your head." She spoke those words with absolutely no volume or pitch change in her voice. It was simply a direct order from her to me.

My wide, disbelieving eyes brought a chuckle from Tawny's lush lips. But it was my stammering reply that most amused her. "But... I can't... not here... they'd... surely we'd be..." She laughed out loud, not even trying to hide her humor.

"But, did you or did you not," she smirked, "just tell me I could get as comfortable as I wished? I think my feet on your head would be very comfortable. You're the one who made the offer. Now, lie down so I can put my tired feet on your head."

Still my eyes showed disbelief. My mouth continued to hang open. The muscle to close it wouldn't work. I was mortified.

"Oh, Matthew, don't worry. If someone comes by you can real quick cover up my feet with your napkin. They'll never see my comfy feet playing with your cute little slaveboy face. Go on, now, lie down. My feet want the comfort you promised."

My stammering started anew. "But.... we'll be... Jesus... arrested!"

"Nonsense. The waitress'll get a chuckle if she happens to see my feet playing with your earlobe, but that's all. If it gets to be a problem, I'll just let you sit up. She'll have a little chuckle and a story to tell her co-workers, that's all. No one ever got arrested for using someone's face to comfort their feet. Now, lie down... my feet are tired!"

My entire body was charged with nervous energy. I was torn between the embarrassment of what Tawny wanted from me, and my inexplicable need to please her. My mouth opened and closed, but nothing came out. Then, I thought that maybe if I laid down on the seat and Tawny put her feet on me, maybe that would be enough. Maybe just proving she was boss would be enough for her. Maybe she'd just rest her feet for a few seconds and then let me up. But, what most shocked me was that I was actually CONSIDERING lying down so Tawny's feet could rest on my head... in a pubic place, no less! That was quite a revelation about myself. It made me shudder. Still, I looked around nervously, and so help me, I started to lie down!

Tawny burst into raucous laughter. She laughed so hard that tears streamed from her eyes. Her whole body enjoyed the humor, quaking as she laughed hysterically. I stopped my downward motion to watch her. I was a little confused at that particular moment.

"Oh, how lovely, Matthew. You were actually going to let me do it, weren't you? Oh, that's precious. And I really do appreciate your willingness to be my foot rest right here in an open restaurant. That's just so loyal of you, so giving. But you can relax. I was just kidding. I only wanted to see what you would do. And now that I know you'd allow me to do that to you, even in public, I'm just going to keep that information handy for the future. You never know when it might come in handy. But, for now, you're off the hook. I can rest my feet on your head any time I like, so there's no need for me to do it right this minute. I can wait until we're alone. Besides, how would we talk? I don't think your speech would be very clear having to go through my feet to reach my ears, now would it? No," she became pensive now, "I think resting my feet on your head would be something more appropriate for when I'm watching TV or reading a book or talking to friends on the phone. So, relax, Matthew, it was just a joke. Or maybe a test. Either way, right now, you're off the hook... but that won't always be the case. So don't take my current generosity for granted."

Her laughter was so infectious, and I was so relieved at escaping an ignoble fate, that I almost laughed right along with her. But I was still too mortified by what had just transpired - and shocked by my willingness to submit to what she'd suggested - to bring myself to laugh. I felt a shudder of mingled excitement and dread. If I was willing to submit to something like THAT, what other base humiliations might I be willing to set aside my pride to accept? It was a sobering thought.

"Well, then," Tawny's voice intruded upon my self-examination, " you'll have to spread your legs for me instead."

I looked at her, dumbly, like a deer caught in headlights. "Excuse me?" I said, not even capable of expounding on that, as dumb as it sounded.

"Spread your legs," she repeated. "You said I can make myself as comfortable as I wish, and since I can't have your head under my feet, I've decided you owe me something just as much fun... so spread your legs and let me get more comfortable that way." She seemed to tense up, kinetically charged, waiting for my response. She was testing me again. Or was she? The head thing may have been a joke, but I seriously doubted that this was.

So, with much quicker compliance than I had with her "head request", I still nonetheless slowly spread my legs, by then pretty sure I knew what was coming. And, indeed, I was correct.

Tawny slid forward on her seat, removed her feet from atop my knees, and pushed them forward, grinning as she planted both soles squarely in my crotch. She left them there, unmoving, for only a second, just long enough to assess my response. I was biting my lower lip, which seemed to please her. Her grin widened. Time to play.

She began kneading her soles into my crotch, almost laughing aloud as she said, "Just getting comfortable. Thank you so much for your generosity." Grinning wickedly yet again, she probed between my legs until her feet had found my engorged penis. She played with it with her feet, mercilessly, squeezing it between her toes, squashing it beneath her soles, flicking the head with the tips of her two big toes, all around toying with it... and all the while grinning widely and boring her eyes into mine, waiting to see if I'd fend off her footsie attack or allow her to do as she pleased.

Suddenly, amidst the swirling confusion in my brain, I saw the waitress approaching with our drinks. With what little coherent thought I could muster, I managed to grab my napkin, open it with dazzling speed, and drop it down onto my lap, covering the cock-teasing feet. But the napkin danced in my lap, as those cavorting feet continued to play between my legs, not letting up for an instant, even though Tawny knew full well that the waitress was about to arrive. I had to put my hands down over those mischievous feet to mask their playfulness as much as possible. Tawny giggled now, and only slowed her foot-play the tiniest bit.

"Your drinks," the waitress said, seeming not to notice the bouncing napkin and my hand desperately trying to make Tawny's feet behave. "Now, what can I get you for dinner?"

I haven't a clue what Tawny ordered. Not only was I busy trying to hide the romp which seemed to be escalating in my crotch, but I was also trying NOT to have an orgasm in my shorts. This left little room in my cerebrum for noticing the rest of the world around me. And when I ordered my own meal, I think the waitress must've thought I was mentally challenged, as she looked at me with a queer, almost sympathetic smile. She read back my order to me very slowly, as if speaking with a brain-damaged child. Tawny was greatly amused by this.

When the waitress had finally left, Tawny removed her feet from my crotch and plopped them on my thighs. With what was becoming her usual sarcastic whimsy, she said, "Well, Matthew, thank you. That was the most fun my feet have had in a long, long time. Somewhat comfortable, too, though I can think of much better ways to get my feet comfortable."

I was about to reply to that, but then I realized no reply was necessary. Tawny had every intention of continuing whether I responded or not.

Lifting her glass of wine, she held it out to me, indicating we should clink our glasses together to commemorate the moment, saying, "Here's to us getting along beautifully, and having a fantastic relationship together." I held out my glass, and she enthusiastically clinked them together. "I think we're going to click just beautifully, don't you, Matthew? We seem just perfect for each other, don't we? I say we give this thing a try. I'll be your Princess Tawny, and you can be my obedient little slave boy. Believe me, you WON'T regret it. What do you say? Should we give it a try?" From the twinkle in her eyes and the enthusiastic glow coming from her jubilant face, I could see she was sincere... and that she was already having a helluva time.

She WAS beautiful, I had to admit. Everything about her made me want to kiss and lick every part of her, and I was perfectly willing to do it any way she liked. She was a thousand times MORE alluring in person than she was online, and that was saying something! So, naturally, I didn't have to debate with myself for very long when I replied, this time not whispering at all when I properly addressed her, "Yes, Princess Tawny, I would like that very much." My still throbbing penis dribbled its agreement.

Again she beamed. She was barely able to sit still. I've never known a woman to be so completely overcome by the thought of having her own personal body servant. I've never seen a woman who could be so dominant and yet so level-headed, sweet and charming all at the same time. She seemed to me to be the complete package, and she seemed impressed enough by me to give me the HONOR of being her body servant. And at that exact moment, my life changed. I vowed right then and there to do my best to please my Princess Tawny in any way I possibly could. I would give her the complete, total worship she so deeply craved. Where it would lead us we would have to wait and see. From that point things took a more "normal" turn for a bit. After receiving our meals, we took some time getting to know each other from a non-sexual aspect for a change. But it was obvious throughout this more mundane conversation that there was a barely controlled sexual appetite just below the surface. Many of our comments were laced with sweet innuendo. Suggestive comments abounded, even when we spoke about harmless, everyday topics. The sexual tension was always there, barely hidden, barely controlled, waiting to leap to the forefront and control our every action from that moment forward.

We knew our control couldn't hold out for long.

Almost at the end of our meal, and right in the middle of a comparison of favorite movies, Tawny couldn't fight the power any longer. She stopped me in mid-sentence, waving her finger downward, pointing to what appeared to be a point directly between my legs... but I had misjudged the intent. Instead of being a gesture to a specific spot, it was a generalized gesture. She was waggling her finger down in the general direction of my lap, where her bare feet still basked in their shoeless freedom.

"Rub my feet," she said bluntly. "You seem to be done eating, so give my feet a nice massage while I finish up my meal."

I was stunned not so much by the request itself, but by the suddenness of it. I was indeed finished with my meal, but I had not yet finished my recently refreshed beer. I looked over at the still frothy glass, then down at her impatient feet, then back at the beer.

"Oh, now, you can take sips every so often between toe rubs, but I really want my servant to give my feet a nice, soothing rub... now." She looked at me as if this were a perfectly reasonable request. Her feet wiggled eagerly on my lap. Laughing softly, she added, "Now, you aren't going to refuse your Princess, are you... slave?"

Giving one last, wistful look at the frothy mug of brew, I sighed, then looked down at Tawny's feet, chomping at the bit for their pampering to begin. Smiling, eager to please her, and equally eager to fondle those sexy feet, I grabbed one foot in my hands and began kneading away its aches and pains. Tawny sighed, and squirmed in her chair with great pleasure.

"Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...," she sighed, "that's just wonderful. I knew I picked the right slave boy. Don't stop rubbing 'til I tell you to. That's just heaven. And if the waitress comes by, you just keep on rubbing. Who cares what anyone else thinks? You worship your Princess, and that's all that matters. You should never be embarrassed when all you're doing is making me feel good." Then, her eyes fluttered shut and her mouth dropped open a tiny bit, sighs coming more frequently than words.

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