My Brown Sugar Domme

Needless to say, the devouring of her meal slowed down considerably. She took small forkfuls of food only occasionally, sitting back and nearly drooling as I rubbed every inch of both her feet. Every now and then she'd mumble "Oh, that's wonderful," or "God, that's incredible," or whatever, the look on her face the look of pampered royalty. But, as time wore on, she decided I needed a little guidance in exactly how she wanted her feet massaged, giving me instructions like, "Rub the soles really hard," or "Oh, Matthew, rub each toe one by one," or "Bend my toes back and forth and work your fingers between them." For my part, I just did as I was told. I knew that having me obey her was even more important than the actual foot rub itself. And as early evening lapsed into mid-evening, Tawny's furnace was becoming more and more stoked. I could see it in her face, even though she appeared to be relaxed and enjoying her foot pampering. Her rising sexual tide was becoming more and more obvious in her face and in her body language. That, in turn, fueled my own fire.

I had just removed the toe ring from the second toe of her right foot so I could properly massage that naked toe, when Tawny, without opening her eyes, but visibly gnawing on her lower lip, whispered, "My faithful servant, you never answered my questions earlier." I had no idea of what she spoke. I therefore didn't respond.

"When you first joined me tonight, I asked you to describe my email photos to you. I wanted you to give me details on how they made you feel. Your emails back to me in response were rather... incoherent, to say the least. So, tell me, in your own beautiful, SPOKEN words, what you thought of them. What did they do for you? Did they turn you on? Did you have to masturbate after you saw them? Did you have an orgasm right there at your computer? Did my pictures turn you on THAT much?"

She sat quietly for about a minute as I digested all of that. I searched my mind and memories for the answers she wanted. While I did so, my hands became neglectful on her feet. "No," she said, "don't stop rubbing my feet. Keep rubbing them while you answer me. And when you tell me how much my pictures turned you on, I want you to bend down and kiss my toes while you describe it all to me. Yes, rub and kiss my feet - worship them, even! - while you tell me how much you liked my ass and how hard you got from looking at my sexy feet pointed right at your face. Tell me how you masturbated afterward, dreaming of kissing or licking either of them. But, most of all, tell me how much my last photo made you want to get down on your knees and worship my pussy. Tell me how badly you wanted to lick and lick and lick and lick it. Oh, baby, tell me all of it. Don't hold anything back!"

At that point, my cock had hardened to such a state that I could've hammered a railroad spike into concrete with it. I didn't give a rat's rancid ass WHO was around to hear me... I was going to tell this sexy brown Princess exactly what she wanted to hear. I knew in my heart and soul that this was a defining moment, a crossroads in our relationship. The next move on my part would make or break our future together as submissive and Dominant. And I had no intention of fucking that up! No way!

So, I took a deep breath. I didn't look around to see if anyone was watching, and I lifted both her feet off my lap and kissed all ten of her toes, openly and brazenly, and with quite a bit of passion. I said, "Yes, Princess Tawny, I'll tell you everything you want to know. Ever since I first saw those pictures of your gorgeous ass, your royal feet and your heart-stopping pussy, I have truly been their - and your - slave. And I have WANTED to tell you this so much... and now I AM telling you. I am not only PROUD to be your slave, but I THANK you for allowing me to serve you. I just needed to say that before I begin." I was literally shuddering with the sincerity of what I'd just spoken aloud. My shaking hands were barely able to hold her French-tipped toes up to my breathless lips.

Tawny quivered noticeably when I again passionately kissed her feet, nuzzling my face into the soft pads of her toes, sighing hot breath onto her soles, my lips warming them equally as much. She gasped out a staggered sigh and licked her lips as I began to tell her in detail exactly how her photos had affected me over the last several weeks... exactly how they had captured my heart and soul. Exactly how - precisely according to her plan - those sizzling online visions had begun in me the irreversible enslavement process. It was numbingly apparent that we were both losing control, rapidly and completely. I had the urge to lap Tawny's creamy feet until they wrinkled like prunes, but that wouldn't be proper worship... which they - and she - most certainly deserved. I fought to control myself. Though it was like trying to stop the mad careening of a runaway train, I was determined to do as Tawny had asked of me. Besides, I WANTED to tell her about those online pics, their mesmerizing hold on my psyche, the power they had over me. I NEEDED to tell her how they had instantly enslaved me long before we'd actually met. But, still, I didn't want us to lose COMPLETE control. So I took several deep breaths, and chose my words carefully, though my heart wanted me to scream out my innermost fantasies and desires.

I reluctantly pulled my lips away from those royal feet, bathing them in one last warming sigh as my lips retreated. I could see the heaving in Tawny's ample bosom lessen, her respiration rate slowly returning to normal. She swallowed hard, and her open mouth shut, those glistening lips coming together as she began breathing through her nose again. Though I sensed a mild disappointment in her at no longer having her feet passionately adored, I was pleased to see a smile cross those enticing lips. She seemed to sense that I was going to give her a very erotic earful.

I proceeded slowly, my voice calm and even, surprising me with its steadiness. "My Princess," I began, " I was astonished when I received your first picture. I was totally mesmerized by your lovely... behind..."

"Please," she interrupted, " I prefer the word 'ass.' It's so much more erotic... so deliciously naughty."

"Uh, I very much agree," I said, "and your ass is as naughty as they come."

Her smile widened. "Continue," she said, leaning back in the booth, closing her eyes so she could close out the rest of the world to concentrate on my spoken confessions.

"Yes, Princess," I said humbly, hoping for a few brownie points. "I couldn't believe how lucky I was to actually get to see your incredible ass. As soon as I saw it, I got an erection."

"And what went through your mind when you saw it? What did you FEEL?"

My penis began to twitch, to lengthen and harden all over again. "Well," I said, just a bit sheepishly, "what I felt was... that I wanted to... well... touch it. Actually, more like... well... get right up to it and nuzzle my face in it. It's just such an unbelievably SUCCULENT ass!"

"Mmmmm... you mean you wanted to rub your face all over my ass?"

"Yes," I admitted, "and kiss it, mash my lips all over it."

"Lovely," she sighed, "and how would you feel about actually MASSAGING my ass with your lips?"

"Massaging?" My mind was envisioning how this might be done, and it brought a smile to my face.

"Yes," she stated matter-of-factly, "I'd simply adore having a man massage my entire ass with his lips, slowly and thoroughly, taking maybe an hour or so to massage it completely, every inch," She laughed and emphasized, "both inside and out. As a matter of fact, I won't even consider a relationship with a man - much less a slave boy - if he's unwilling to pleasure me this way."

The mere thought of rubbing my lips all over the ass I'd seen in that photo had my cock throbbing like jungle drums. The words caught in my throat with controlled excitement as I replied, "If that would please you, Princess Tawny, I'd consider it a privilege and honor to massage your beautiful ass with my lips... for as long as you needed me to."

"Ohhhhh, my... how wonderful," she sighed. "Now, we come to an important question. Do you truly understand proper ass WORSHIP? Meaning, do you understand what it means to show proper RESPECT for my ass? Worship and respect go hand in hand. What I meant when I typed 'Kiss my ass, white boy!' under the photo? We DID discuss it in IM, but I want to make sure you really get where I'm coming from."

My penis was trying to tear its way out of my pants. "I think I do, Princess. You once said that proper worship of your ass involved..." I wasn't sure how to say it. Tawny had no qualms about putting things bluntly.

"Let me spell it out," she said, opening her eyes, watching me with depraved interest, "I believe that PROPER worship of my ass involves you showing deep, unflinching, unquestioning respect for it, specifically with your adoring lips. And I do mean DEEP." She waited to see if the light went on over my head. When I blushed, she knew I had gotten her drift. But she wanted verbal affirmation from me. She wanted nothing to be left ambiguous. So she leaned forward, the dreaminess in her eyes of a few moments ago having been instantly replaced by a determined gaze. "What I'm saying Matthew, is that I expect COMPLETE and TOTAL worship of my ass, even its deepest recesses. I expect you not only to kiss my sexy cheeks, but also between them. Anything less wouldn't be total adoration. At least that's the way I see it. And I will not settle for less than TOTAL adoration... EVER! So, if you have a problem with that, tell me now and we can save ourselves some time. You can look for someone less demanding, and I can look for someone more... respectful. Now, do you have a problem with what I've just described to you?" Her eyes were boring into me with such complete conviction that I could FEEL them.

Now, I've done some kinky things in my time, and even FANTASIZED about totally worshipping a woman's ass in the way that Tawny described, but I've never done it in reality, and I've often wondered if I'd actually be willing, or ABLE to. Some fantasies tend to remain just that - fantasies. So, naturally, I hesitated with my reply.

"Get back to rubbing my feet," I heard through the pounding in my ears. The command helped me focus, though I'd momentarily misplaced reality.

"Excuse me?" I said weakly, blinking my eyes.

"You've stopped rubbing my feet," she said, a cruel smile curling her lips, "I didn't give you permission to stop."

"Oh, sorry, Princess. I just lost my focus for a minute. I promise it won't happen again."

"See that it doesn't, or my pretty feet might end up in someone else's lap. Now, I want your answer. Will I receive COMPLETE homage of my ass from you, or is this date going to be our one and only meeting?"

The phrase "one and only" cut me to my core. Only minutes ago I had been passionately kissing Tawny's soft, sexy feet, professing my worship of and loyalty to her. As I looked down at those impish symbols of my slavish need to please her, I couldn't bear the thought of someone else worshipping her feet... or any other part of her. I caved with an ease that startled even myself. The words started slowly at first, but gained strength and momentum as I spoke them. "I swear, Princess, I'll worship ANY part of you EXACTLY as you see fit. YOU decide what's proper worship, and I'll comply."

Slowly Tawny sat back again, a pleased look on her face. Her eyes gleamed their victory, her lips grinned widely, her chest heaved with a deep sigh of satisfaction. "All right then. You'd better be serious. I assure you, I WILL be testing you on that point. I'm not just saying I want proper worship to hear you say yes and then leave it at that. I expect PROOF from you. Besides which," she grinned even more widely, "I just adore the way lips feel when they're squeezed into my ass." She chuckled softly, then said, "Now, continue, what else did my pictures do for you?"

"Well," I began absently, still reeling over Tawny's speedy transformation from smiling, pleasant dinner companion to uncompromising, arrogant Domme, "your second photo..."

"My perfect, desirable feet..." Tawny interrupted, smiling a little more softly now.

"Yes," I agreed, looking down at my lap, "your sweet, beautiful feet. That second photo made me rock hard also. So soft, so sexy, so... so... so deserving of love and worship. God, how I wanted to taste them! Your feet were so..."

I was still gazing down at my Princess's feet with unmasked affection when she thumped her heels up and down on my thighs a couple of times in rapid succession. This startled me, and I wondered why she'd done this to me. I looked up at her, confused... and a tiny bit hurt. When I saw the waitress approaching, I understood Tawny's actions. Though I distinctly remembered her saying that I should rub her feet no matter what, that it didn't matter who caught us being our true selves, I didn't voice this to Tawny. I got the impression she wasn't one to appreciate being reminded that she'd contradicted herself.

"Would you two lovebirds like dessert?" our tip-hopeful waitress asked, holding out two dessert menus.

Before I could even extend my hand, Tawny waved off the menus, saying simply, "We'll have that," she said, pointing to a large poster on the wall.

"Our Decadently Chocolate fudge and ice cream combo?"

"Yes," Tawny replied, "with everything chocolate. Chocolate ice cream and hot fudge. Sounds scrumptious. And bring two spoons. We'll share it." Her grin was infectious, as the waitress joined her in the smile, though for completely differing reasons.

After the springy girl left, my inquisitive eyes met Tawny's calculating ones. "You'll love it," she smirked, "You should prefer EVERYTHING chocolate from now on... including your Princesses - though I should be your only Princess from this second onward. You must know that chocolate is always sweeter, and if you don't you'll soon find out. Now, get back to rubbing my feet. Chop chop! Hop to it, foot boy." She giggled like a schoolgirl. She was constantly taking me by surprise, keeping me off balance. One minute she was just a great person to talk to, the next she was the demanding Domme, and the next she was a playful kitten. I never knew what - or who - to expect next. And that only added to the titillation. Personally, I liked all three.

I gave her feet a thorough massage as we waited for our dessert. Again she closed her eyes and smiled, enjoying her foot rub. "And do go on," she said as I was just squeezing and stretching her toes, "describe in detail your love and worship for my feet when you first saw them. Did you like how I was shoving them right into your face in the photo? Did that make you hard again?" Eyes still closed, she folded her arms across her chest and listened for my answer.

"Oh, yeah," I stated matter-of-factly, "of course it did. How could I not fall in love with YOUR feet? And, yes, the way you seemed to be just RAMMING your feet smack into my face, well, that was AWESOME! I mean, I know I told you that soles and toes are what most drive me wild, but I never expected to see your feet so up close and personal! That really rocked my world!"

"You mean, like this?" she giggled, lifting as high as she could the foot I was not currently massaging, and thrusting her toes in the general direction of my chin. She wiggled her foot around playfully. It would have been obvious to anyone looking that she was teasing me with her foot. She didn't seem to care if I was embarrassed or not. She was too beside herself with a kind of giddy power to even CONSIDER not toying with me. And though I most certainly DID hope no one noticed, I wouldn't have stopped the show for the world.

I did find myself, however, glancing about nervously, but still managed to say, "Yes, Princess Tawny, exactly like that." The flush covering my face wasn't entirely from embarrassment.

Abruptly, she lowered her foot and said, "Well, now you've seen my feet in person. Are they everything you hoped they'd be, everything they appeared to be in the photo?"

"Oh, yes," I sighed, "yes, indeed. Your feet are even more regal and..." I was temporarily at a loss for words, but Tawny helped me out.

"Even more deserving of respect?" she offered, grinning wickedly.

"Yes, Princess."

"And worship?"

"Yes, Princess."

"Complete and total worship? Homage? Adoration and unquestioning loyalty?"

"Yes, Princess, absolutely."

"Good. Never forget that. As long as I have your complete worship and obedience, we'll click together famously. As soon as that disappears... so do I. That's all there is to it. Understood?" Her arms folded across her chest and a smug look on her face, I could see behind her eyes the true depth of her unyielding nature. It was her way or no way. I had no doubt of that.

"Yes, Princess," I submitted, "as you wish."

"Superb. Now, get those hands busy on my feet. You've slacked off a little again. We can't have that, now can we?"

"No, Princess. Sorry."

"That's all right. I don't expect you to focus one hundred percent of the time, especially since you're no doubt stunned and awed by my perfection and beauty." As she said this, her face adopted a pretense of utter snobbery. She smiled, fluffed her too-short-to-be-fluffed hair with one hand and all around took on the air of arrogant royalty. With that haughty air virtually emanating from her every pore, she added, "Now, rub rub rub, foot boy. Don't spare the elbow grease! After all, you can be replaced, you know." She actually laughed out loud, as I started rubbing her foot harder. If she'd been any higher on pure power, she'd have floated away from the table. "Now, get talking about how my foot photo made you insane with lust." Again she sat back, arms crossed, eyes closed, waiting for my confessions.

I was beginning to understand the extent to which being dominant turned Tawny on. Every time she clicked into that mode, she literally crackled with energy. She'd squirm and her breathing would become noticeably quickened. I suspected that as she bossed me around and treated me like a doting servant, her panties must surely be getting wet. And how awesome that would be. To know that my submissiveness to her wishes could get her so juiced up and horny. Humbling or not, that would be one helluva plus for me!

"Well, Princess Tawny," I said, slowly mixing together in my mind the truth and what I was sure would drive her crazy, "of course I loved seeing your beautiful, royal feet, but it was how you displayed them that got me as hard as granite. I LOVED how you just SHOVED them in my face, as if to say, 'Here are my feet, now get busy worshipping them!'." I watched her lick her lips. She squirmed. I was definitely on the right track.

I continued, "I felt as if you were putting me in my place, right down there at your feet. As if I had no rights whatsoever, while you, on the other hand, had EVERY right to shove your feet into my face any time the urge strikes you. Your feet were not only super sexy, but it all felt so right, as if that was the way it should be... me at your feet, worshipping them exactly the way you wanted me to." Tawny was squirming quite a bit now, and had replaced her lip licking with lip chewing. Her sighs were audible from across the table.

"And you wanted to worship my feet right then and there?" she asked, her bosom heaving.

"Yes, of course I did. I thought they deserved no less." My lovely Tawny was losing control again, as was I.

"So, actually, what you wanted was to crawl to my feet on your hands and knees and kiss them with reverence?"

"Yes, Princess Tawny, with complete and utter servitude." Tawny's feet were wiggling madly in my lap, as if that was how she was releasing her sexual tension. She was alternately chewing on her upper and then lower lips. Her eyes had partially opened, and her glazed eyes were burning into mine, searching for the truth in my words. I watched her sigh repeatedly through those pearly teeth and ruby lips.