The Lilac Society Ch. 02

I really did want nothing more than to be what she claimed I already was - her slave. I found myself standing, bending over, untying my shoes, pulling them off. Shoes, socks, barefoot on the hard gray dorm carpet, freezing but sweating. Then I pulled off my t-shirt, shivering in a sort of excited fear. I didn't know what to do with my clothes, so I folded them neatly behind me. Then I unbuckled my belt, pulled down my pants, nearly fell over trying to step out of them. I felt inadequately clumsy. I felt indescribably weird. And as soon as I pulled down my boxers, I inhaled sharply again. I stepped out of them, folded them, and quickly knelt, in the same position I'd been in before, but naked. I winced, I felt so very exposed. Lauren again stood directly in front of me, this time just staring.

She looked straight down at me, then stepped back, and looked me over, up and down. Oh my god this was strange, and somehow very, very intimidating. Just being naked in front of Lauren while she was dressed, my god. Lauren's affect, her attitude, her deadly serious stare, there was no question she absolutely possessed me, and she meant business. I had to force myself to keep my hands behind my back. Every instinct I had was trying to make me move them in front of me, to cover myself. I took a very deep breath, let it out slightly too loud. Lauren spoke sharply.

"Quiet!"

She walked around me, looking at me from behind, then from the front again. She stared me down hard, with a little smirk. Instinctively, I closed my eyes, until I felt Lauren's hand grab my face firmly.

"Eyes open, Chris."

I opened them, reminding myself not to speak. It surprised me how difficult it was to keep my eyes open, facing the cold hard reality of what I was experiencing.

Walking behind me, Lauren stepped up close, one foot between my legs, the other beside them. She let her hands rest on my neck, thumbs and middle fingers around my throat, not quite choking me, trying to wrap around my throat but not quite long enough to reach all the way around, the rest of her fingers resting on my neck.

"This body is mine, Chris. Mine. I own it. I will see it whenever I want. And only me - you don't show it, undressed, to anyone but me. Unless I say so. Only me. I decide who sees it, I decide who doesn't. Get used to that."

A minute or so with her hands on my neck, to let that fact soak in, and Lauren stepped around to my front side. Again, her hand on my chin, lifting my face toward hers. She looked straight into my face.

"I own your sex, Chris. Everything about your sexuality. You will NEVER have an orgasm without my permission. Don't ask - I'll tell you when I think you need it. If I ever decide to ask what sorts of sexual thoughts go on in that head of yours, be prepared to answer, and don't hide anything. No secrets from me. And be prepared to channel them into thoughts and acts of submission to me. That's what being owned is all about, after all."

She let go of my chin.

"Now kneel with your face to the floor, and your ass in the air, to show me you understand that I own your sex. I control everything about your sex. Acknowledge it. Present that ass. NOW."

I put my hands to the floor to steady myself, and knelt. Face down in the rough gray carpet, I thrust my butt high into the air. This was so very embarrassing. I was breathing hard, so surprised that just assuming this position was such a humiliation. My god, how would I handle what was to come? Lauren, I reminded myself - all for Lauren.

"Good. Very good." Lauren walked around me again, looking me over. I could hear her chuckle under her breath, and felt a new rush of humiliation. Blood rushing to my head. I felt beyond naked - I felt something even beyond humiliation. Oh my god, this would be difficult. Lauren's permission for every orgasm? How often did she plan to grant it? And who, exactly, did she plan to show my body to? Sorry - her body. It was hers, not mine. What had I gotten into? Still, I found, to my horror, that I wanted to be hers. Nothing more than to belong to Lauren. And, I reminded myself, according to Lauren, I had no choice.

And not just according to Lauren. I took several deep breaths to try to deal with all of these feelings and as I did, started to consider again whether this was all worth it. I couldn't even describe the embarrassment of being displayed like this for Lauren. And I found again that my hesitation lasted only a few seconds. There was no question in my mind. I wanted to serve Lauren. I wanted nothing else. This wasn't easy, but I had to do it. I had no choice.

Lauren chuckled again, sending my sense of humiliation to heights I hadn't thought were possible. Blood rushing to my head, I was replaying every casual insult Lauren had tossed at me, all the hours I'd worked or waited as she'd ignored me. Now, naked and in humiliating pose, she was laughing at me. I felt like hiding again. But I was Lauren's inferior. Truly - I truly believed it, right? I did. She had every right to laugh at me if she wanted. I started trying to savor the humiliation, to learn from it, to use it to help me accept my place. Oh, God.

Maybe five minutes went by. Finally, Lauren spoke.

"OK, Chris, back like you were."

Upright, hands folded behind my back, I felt the blood rush from my head, and felt dizzy. Lauren quickly stepped up to me, grabbed my chin, yanked my face toward hers.

"I want you to know something, slave. This may seem obvious, but I need to say it. I'm your superior. And you're my inferior. But not just because I've agreed to take you as my slave. No - I really AM your superior, Chris. Even if you weren't my slave. I really DO look down on you. I honestly know that I'm better than you. And it's important that you know that. You need to know your place before me. You need to understand that I chose you as my slave, allowed you to become my slave becauseI look down on you, and know that you're inferior to me."

Ouch. As much as she had already told me these things, hearing them again truly stung.

"And you need to decide how you feel about this. Are you going to resent it? Try to show me up? Try to think of me as your equal? If so, it's going to make your slavery very difficult, and very painful. Or are you going to accept the truth, that you're my inferior? Learn to live with it, as a happy slave, thankful to serve your better?"

Lauren stared me down from above, as she let her words linger. She was being perfectly honest. She'd never been more serious.

"In a minute, you're going to kiss my foot. You're going to lie flat on the floor, arms at your side. I'll take off my shoe and sock. You will kiss my bare foot for one hour. Sixty minutes. You'll kiss it to acknowledge the fact of your inferiority to me. And while you do so, I want you to think about your inferiority, my superiority, your slavery to me, and try to come to terms with being inferior - to accept it. Those are the only thoughts you're allowed to have while you kiss my foot. My superiority. Your inferiority. Your place before me. How you're going to accept these facts."

I tried not to screw up my face in disgust.

"You may kiss anywhere below my ankle. Don't linger on one place for too long - move around. Use your lips only - no tongue. And Chris - yes, I do think this act is disgusting. I mean, kissing feet! You'd better believe I'd never even think of asking anyone who isn't a slave to do this. But there's also something sort of beautiful about it. It's the perfect chance for you to think about where you belong."

She paused. I took a deep breath. Lauren pulled out a chair from the desk, and sat on it. Lauren's words were sinking in, and I felt more humiliated than ever. She reached for a fridge behind her, pulled out a styrofoam container, and a water bottle, and set them on her desk beside her.

"Chris. Slave. Lie down, flat on the floor, with your face at my left foot."

I obeyed. I had to force my body to act, but in seconds, I was prostrate on the hard gray carpet, arms at my side, various crumbs and debris as well as the uncomfortable floor pushing into the front of my naked body. I lowered my face toward Lauren's left shoe, my face inches from her shoelaces, getting a close-up look at the teal trim of her little tennis shoe, which didn't look quite so little from down here. Slightly worn, slightly dirty. Orange trimmed anklet sock. I waited. From the sound of it, Lauren was opening the water bottle and taking a drink.

I could feel various spots on the carpet that were harder than the others, most likely the remains of old spills that had hardened, and weren't visible in the dark industrial carpet. God, dorm floors were disgusting. The things Lauren had said about accepting my place suddenly rang in my ears. I felt another wave, another surge, of embarrassment.

Suddenly, Lauren bent down, and quickly began untying her shoe. As she did so, the very edge of her hair just barely grazed the back of my neck, and it felt like heaven - like an angelic touch from above. I breathed deeply. Before I knew it, Lauren's tennis shoe was off, and she quickly pulled off her sock, stuffing it in the shoe, and set both directly beside her foot.

Now, Lauren's bare foot was resting on the carpet directly below my face. It was pale, slightly sweaty, indented from the sock. Yes, it was a pretty foot. Involuntarily, I took a deep breath, and inhaled the scent of sweaty foot. I hadn't expected the smell. It wasn't very strong, but it wasn't part of the fantasy. Yes, the foot was pretty, but up close, well, up close a foot looks bigger. The shape is less defined. I could see the uneven cut of each unpainted toenail. And the thought - just the thought of kissing a foot... Lauren's words in my ears, suddenly. "...yes, I do think this act is disgusting..." I suddenly remembered why I didn't expect I'd ever be able to do this in real life.

Lauren's voice, from above.

"You may begin."

Oh, god. Remember your place, Chris, I thought. I am Lauren's inferior. Do I really believe that? Is this young woman really my superior? I told myself that she really was, and that I had no choice. I believed it. I knew that it really was true, whether I believed it or not. There was no doubt that Lauren was better than me, let's be serious, and she deserved this. Nevertheless, as much as I knew this is what I needed to do, and as much as I'd fantasized about it, and enjoyed the fantasies, in reality, there was still something blocking me. I couldn't do it without forcing myself. So I forced myself.

Reminding myself I had no choice, I closed my eyes, puckered my lips, and let them descend to Lauren's instep, giving it a long, soft kiss. I opened my eyes, closed them again, and kissed the same spot again, a bit harder. This felt weird. I didn't have Lauren's face to look at, encouraging me, that constant reminder of who I was dealing with. This is Lauren's foot, I told myself again. Looking straight down before closing my eyes agian, I kissed the same spot again, then again and again, quick little hesitant kisses. I remembered that I needed to kiss all the parts of her foot, so I moved my lips slightly, tilting my head. It felt weird trying to figure out how to adjust the angle of my head, sort of like I was making out. But with a foot. But I did it, moving slightly down, and slightly toward Lauren's little toe, and gave that spot a lingering, soft kiss, then thought that I'd better kiss like I mean it, so I pressed my lips into her foot more firmly. Sharp inhale, and that strange-ish smell, that I forced myself not to gag on. Lauren's smell - Lauren's smell, I reminded myself. And I am her inferior.

Another kiss to the same spot, and then I started moving my lips, little bit by little bit, around her instep. Quick little kisses followed by longer kisses. I still felt like, in some sense, I was being hesitant. I tried to remember what Lauren had said to think about. She's my superior. I'm her inferior. I really did believe it. Am I going to resist it, or am I going to accept it? I thought about that - resist or accept. Was just believing it enough? I believed it, but why was I being so delicate about these kisses? Was I acting like I was somehow above this or something? In addition to believing Lauren was better than me, did I need more? Did I need to like that fact? Embrace it?

I thought about it, then moved my lips to the bottom of Lauren's instep, just above her toes, in the center, and kissed as hard and as deep as I possibly could. I kissed passionately, putting my all into it, moving my head slightly. Deep breath, holding the smell in my lungs, not quite as bad now, savoring it. Oh, God, what was wrong with me? Why on earth was I lying on a dorm room floor, naked, kissing a girl's foot? It was this sudden sense of self-awareness, self-loathing, and I almost choked on the lungfull of Lauren's foot scent that I'd inhaled. I breathed it out.

This was so very, very embarrassing. Oh my. Far more powerful, far more horrible, than I'd imagined. A dream come true, turning into some sort of nightmare of humiliation. Why was this so horrible? I kept kissing, out of an ingrained sense of obedience, moving upward, closer to Lauren's ankle, still sort of cautious little kisses. I felt like I wanted to crawl out of my own skin. Was this what I was?

Yes, I had to admit to myself. Yes, I was. I was a foot-kissing slave. As much as I despised myself, it was that ingrained sense of obedience that had me still kissing. It was that sense that led me here, to the floor at Lauren's feet. Could it have gone any differently? I thought back to that first day. Simply obeying Lauren, because it felt right. She had some nerve - just bossing me around out of nowhere - she sure knew what she was doing. Would I have done anything differently, looking back? No, no I wouldn't. Those memories were some of my best. And they led right here.

I noticed that my neck muscles were so tight, they were beginning to hurt. I tried to relax them, let my face rest, with its full weight, on Lauren's bare foot. Something about it felt right. I kissed more deeply, noticed that my kisses were becoming, bit by bit, less cautious, more eager, more loving, more something. More reverent, maybe? More adoring? I tried to let my whole body relax, felt the whole weight of it, all of my naked flesh, pressed against the floor. I accepted it. I seemed to relax all over, and I felt better. Then I realized something. My eyes were still closed.

Cautiously, slowly, I opened them. Lauren's foot - the in-the-flesh reality of her bare foot, right there in my face. Yes, it was still weird, even though I'd been kissing it for who knows how long? It probably hadn't been more than five minutes. An hour is a long time. I took another deep breath, got used to the fact that I had to breathe down here, and noticed the sweaty smell was wearing off. Or maybe I just wasn't noticing it anymore. And with the next breath, I noticed that I smelled less of Lauren's foot sweat, and more of the dusty smell of the floor. Anyway, I kept my eyes open as I kissed. And let each kiss last a little longer. And a little longer. Was I Lauren's inferior? Of course I was her inferior. She wasn't the one naked on the floor, kissing feet. And now, even though I still felt humiliated, embarrassed, just plain weird, I put more and more of myself into each kiss, and felt them becoming more and more sincere. More reverent. More adoring. No - I knew the word I was looking for - they were becoming more worshipful. And no, I wasn't worshipping Lauren's foot. I was worshipping Lauren.

My owner. My authority. My absolute superior. Another deep breath. I started to feel something changing. Another deep breath, and I relaxed all over, felt a new feeling come over me. Peace. This felt like peace. This place, right here, naked on the floor, at Lauren's feet, kissing her bare foot, was exactly where I belonged. Somehow, I relaxed, let go of my ego, and felt a perfect sense of belonging.

I kept kissing for the rest of the hour, intensely, then softly and reverently, then gently, then intensely again, losing all track of time, and when I heard Lauren above me tell me in a very gentle voice "OK Chris, it's been an hour, that's enough now," I didn't want to stop.

But I had to stop. Everything after that seemed so anti-climactic. I remember still being face down on the floor, suddenly self-aware, suddenly realizing that I was sweating all over, suddenly noticing once again that I was completely naked, so very naked, as Lauren began to speak. I had to listen closely to hear her since she was way up there, and I was way down here, face down, breathing in the dusty scent of the carpet.

"OK slave, you can get dressed and go now, I'll be in touch."

And that was it. I was vaguely aware that Lauren was using some sort of hand towel to wipe off her foot, but by the time I was on my feet, her sock was back on, and her other shoe was now off, and she was sitting back in her desk chair, shoes casually kicked off, in her socks, eating her lunch and studying. She ignored me while I dressed in front of her, embarrassed, then slipped silently out the door and across the hall, down the stairs, and out the front door.