Visiting Her: A Breathtaking Tale

I crawled over to the desk with the boots in my left hand, hopping along with my right to make up for my lack of balance. She laughed at seeing me struggle, and I crawled, humiliated, yet enjoying my ability to amuse her, to be able to be my Mistress' pathetic slave to laugh at. When I reached the desk, I put the boots beside the other heels on the desk and returned to the floor before picking up the other shoes. I inquired of my Mistress whether this was an acceptable place for her boots. She confirmed that it was, and snapped at me to hurry up. I apologized and grabbed the other heels, carrying them as I had the boots, and enjoying once more the amusement I brought my Mistress at her seeing my plight. I returned to her feet and sat on my knees, head bowed, waiting for her to acknowledge my return.

"You may place the heels on the floor slave, and begin to massage my feet."

"Yes Mistress. Thank you Mistress."

She turned away from me, and turned on her TV, disregarding me as I gently took her magnificent right foot in my hands and began to slowly, and firmly knead it. I put all my effort into the action, making sure I used neither too much force, nor too little. I rubbed at her heel with my thumbs, and slowly moved up to her beautiful arch. I then carefully kneaded the ball of her breath-taking foot, and finally, rolled each toe softly between my fingers. After finishing with the last of her toes, I paused for half a breath, not looking up from the artwork I held in my humble hands. When she made no immediate move to renew her orders, I went over her foot once more, in opposite order, ending with her perfectly rounded heel. By now my erection was darkening from the amount of stimulation her feet were supplying me, and aching to be touched, to have pressure put on it. I fought against the idea of reaching for it. I served her, and she was all that mattered. Her pleasure was what counted. Not mine. I sighed, annoyed by the effort it took to keep myself under control, and began to place my hands to stroke back up her foot.

"What was that Slave? Do you tire already of pleasing me?"

"No Mistress! Not at all! I would do anything to please you! I'm sorry; I was thinking selfish thoughts again. I'm trying to keep myself under control, unfortunately I'm no where near good enough for you, Mistress."

"While that is true Slave, you should spend less time convincing me of your unworthiness, of which I am already well aware, and more time doing what is within your very limited abilities to keep me satisfied."

"Of course, Mistress. Please, ignore my self-centered comments. I won't let them come out again Ma'am."

"For your sake, Slave, I hope that is the case. Other foot. Now."

She turned back to the TV, leaving me to my duty. I treated the next foot with more patience and care than I had the first, shutting out all thoughts aside from those pertaining to pleasing her. I used my lowly hands to care for her one foot, which held more worth than me in my entirety. She had continually graced me with the chance to please her, and I was constantly proving myself insufficient of bringing her untainted pleasure. I poured myself into the work she had set before me, knowing that my best would not equal half of what she deserved, yet hoping against hope that I could make her at least slightly contented with the results I would bring. I kneaded up and down her foot as I had the previous one, though with much more care and effort. I reached the bottom of her foot after going up and down, as I had done the first time, and continued to hold her delicate foot as if it were made of glass, staring at its beauty, waiting, wondering if I should continue, fearing her unhappiness, not because of her anger but because I only wanted to please her. I waited for her to speak to me. Time dragged on, and just as I was about to make another ascent up the elegant arch of her exquisite foot, she spoke to me.

"I suppose Slave, that I must respond by saying that I am impressed. You may have noticed that my response took a while in coming, which is because I had difficulty thinking of an adequate interpretation of my feelings toward your massage. While nothing you could have done would have been close to being worthy of myself, your effectiveness was impressive, for you. That is to say, for being my worthless slave, here only to please me, your conduct was exceptional, though, of course, no where near worthy of my feet."

"Thank you so much Mistress. I know I could never serve you as you deserve, but I did my best for you Mistress, I only regret that I could not do more."

"Your sincerity is touching, but useless, Slave. I choose to dominate you, though I know you will never serve me to the degree I am entitled to. I may not be pleased with your lack of ability, but I have accepted it. Because of this, however, I will accept nothing less than your utmost effort. Far as it is from pleasing me fully, I can endure it, while anything less would be completely insulting." I nodded eagerly in agreement, feeling she had more to say and not daring to interrupt her. "Since your performance was so extraordinary, for you at least, Boy, I am allowing you the honor of licking my feet. Exactly as I said you were to lick them. Keep in mind though, carrying my shoes to the desk and back was more than you deserved. To have KISSED my shoes, especially while I was wearing them, is a great honor, and to have actually touched my feet themselves is an unspeakably, incredible privilege for you. To get the chance to place your mouth to my feet is more than you could ever have dreamed for, Slave. Savor the moments you're given with my feet, for they will be pitifully short and unsatisfying once you're time is up."

"Yes Mistress. Thank you Mistress. So much Mistress."

My penis pounded, as if all the blood in my body had accumulated in it. To lick the pussy of my Mistress was one thing, it was an unparalleled honor, but it was done to bring her pleasure, and a lot of it, or the act of letting me lick it would not be worth the outcome. To be given the great fortune that was to lick my Mistress' feet, was another thing entirely. My Mistress had granted me the privilege of allowing me to take pleasure in licking her feet, feet that were held in a much higher regard than the whole of my body, for they belonged to my Mistress, and though the same could be said of me, I am merely her Slave, not something to take pride in, like her perfect feet. By allowing me this, she gave me the ability to achieve pleasure for myself, and, while she may enjoy the feeling of my tongue along her feet, it was nothing compared to the pleasure I would receive at being able to lick such amazing works of art.

I gazed on her feet, speechless, as I held them out in front of my unbefitting face. I felt every beat of my heart in my overly excited cock, that is to say it was too excited for its own good. When my Mistress' feet are the objects of my arousal, there can be no excited that is too much. Slowly, I lifted her right foot towards my mouth and placed the smallest of her toes inside.

I felt as if I might climax, so amazing was the rush of euphoria that filled me. The salty, sweat taste of her delectable toe filled my mouth, threatening to overwhelm me. My Mistress watched, disinterested, as I experienced the most undeserved, and by far the most unforgettable, gift, of my deplorable life. I twirled my tongue all over and around her toe, enjoying the feel of it, the texture, and the taste. I sucked the taste from the toe as gently as possible, attempting not to discomfort my charitable goddess as I melted, intoxicated by the small piece of my Mistress I held in my dishonorable mouth. My Mistress raised an eyebrow, and jerked her toe back, pulling it from my mouth. I had displeased her. The pain of that set a fire of anguish in me. My Mistress held her porcelain treasure in front of me, holding it back at eye level for me. She had her head tilted to the side, and up, waiting for me to speak.

"I-I'm so sorry Mistress. It won't happen again."

Looking somewhat satisfied, she landed her foot gently back in the palm of my hand. Fearing I would stare for too long and call down her dissatisfaction once more, I quickly surrounded the next toe of her right foot with my undeserving lips. The process began anew. How my painfully erect penis was not damaged, I have no idea, yet every new area of her feet my tentative lips or tongue encountered made me feel as if the thing between my legs was grossly disfigured by the intense amount of blood pushed in it to make it swell. Eight more times her lower digits brought me this elation. Then eight times I felt it again, as my tongue swept thoroughly in between her delicate toes. After lapping at the hollows of her toes until I was convinced that they were as clean as my inadequate tongue could get them, and until their unmistakably divine taste was no longer recognizable, I moved on dolefully from the second stage of my matchless gift. I was fiercely alive with the taste of my goddess' feet in my mouth, yet dying inside, simultaneously as I saw that already, half my tongue's work here was done.

The heels of my Mistress were more potently laden with the taste of her mouthwatering sweat. It was while licking my Mistress's heels, that I realized the sweat her feet gave off was not regular foot sweat, but some exquisite liquid that was better than the god's ambrosia. The sweat on my goddess' feet was the drink of the gods. As I licked and sucked upon her sensually rounded heel I grew angry with myself. The bottoms of my Mistress' heels should have been as smooth as a baby. There should not be a single callous. The bottoms of my mistress' feet should be as soft and smooth as silk. I was very disappointed in myself as my tentative lips searched her stunning heels. My Mistress should never have had to walk anywhere, or develop a single rough spot on her feet from any physical activity. I was her slave, the one who should be taking the strain of walking on my back. Driven by remorse, as well as passion and lust now, I licked more ardently at her sweaty heels, trying vainly to make up for my lack of previous attention to her feet. I became lost in covering her heel's completely, multiple times. I believe she noted the more passionate, yet still useless effort I offered her feet as I sat on my knees before her, and gave me a bit longer, because of what might be considered my valiant efforts, though that description cannot define my attempts as I admit to being only my Mistress' willing Slave boy. I served my time under her ravishing heels, and when my time was up, she pulled her left heel from my unwilling, unchallenging lips.

"I think you've enjoyed yourself quite enough, Boy," my Mistress scolded, looking down at me from where she sat, imperially on the bed above me.

"I apologize Mistress. I have no excuse. I should have learned by now that you are the one that matters, not I. I attempted to fulfill my own desires, and I should not have. Please deal with me in whatever way you see fit Mistress, though you would have done so undoubtedly without my saying so. I merely want you to know that I accept whatever punishment you deem necessary for my behavior willingly."

"You will no doubt be punished, Slave!" My Mistress replied, lifting her chin and taking on a strikingly noble appearance. Her eyes peered down at me over her chin, disgusted by me, but not merely as much as I was by myself. "However, I promised you the chance to lick the rest of my feet once you finished with my heels. Though I owe you nothing, I am going to keep my word. You understand, Slave? Even though this was beyond your wildest dreams before, it is doubly so now! If not more! Do not ever forget my limitless generosity!"

"Never Mistress!" I said, looking up at her, making my face show as much gratitude as possible to my merciful princess, despite my inward anger. I looked at her, and then went forward and kissed the floor under my Mistress' majestic feet, which floated half a foot in the air above the floor. "I can't express to you in words how grateful I am for this Ma'am."

"Then show me, by changing your selfish attitude and treating me as I deserve to be treated, as your Mistress!"

"Yes Mistress. I will undoubtedly do my best to devote myself to your pleasure and your pleasure alone!"

My beautiful mistress turned her head and offered her right foot to her pathetic and unworthy Slave. I accepted it graciously, already knowing this time what I was going to do. I focused on my erect penis. Normally, focusing on my horniness plus having the foot of my Mistress to lick would carry messy consequences. However, my dick was beyond the point of simple euphoria. My penis had been hard for far too long to feel remotely good unless soft pressure was applied, which was not an option for me at the time. So I began to lick, slowly and systematically, enjoying the taste of her wonderful feet, which was building up more pain between my legs. I could hardly stand the pain any longer. But I persevered, using the pain to force me to focus on doing the task at hand and not losing myself in it's joys. I finished with my Mistress' right foot. She pulled it back and slowly offered me her left. I delicately took it and began to lick it as I had the other one, letting the pain stop me from enjoying myself too much.

My cock was nearly numb with the pressure at this point, so it took me a minute to notice the gentle stroking on it. I nearly stopped licking, before I caught myself. I looked down to see my Mistress' right foot, rubbing her foot down my penis softly. I looked up at her to see her one raised eyebrow, and her mischievous smirk.

"What's wrong Slave? You were doing so good on the right foot, don't stop now."

The rest of the time spent licking her left foot went on in a daze of agony. I wanted so bad to give into the feeling of my Mistress' porcelain, masterpiece of a foot, stroking the cock of her pathetic Slave. Yet I could not let my Mistress down again. I had to be strong. I was to serve her. She mattered, not me. She let the licking of her left foot continue for a good ten minutes longer than the right, watching me the whole time, checking my reactions to her unbearably pleasant stroking. Finally, my Mistress pulled her foot from my mouth, I began to feel relieved, proud that I had managed to not be so sexual as I licked her foot this time, or given into my enjoyment and shown my Mistress I was self centered and enjoyed her pleasing me. I was here for her. But, as she pulled her foot from my mouth and I put my head down, I realized what she was doing. She had taken my painfully erect penis and was carefully caressing it with both feet, circulating blood, filling me with a lust I could barely control. I had no idea what to do. No idea how to be a good Slave for my Mistress in this situation. That's what she does to me; she gets my mind all tangled up until I don't know what to do, all I know is that I want to please her, and all I lust for is everything on her flawless body, too perfect for me to even imagine being worthy of it. I decided, after what felt like hours of watching her praiseworthy feet and toes tease the confused cock of her disgraceful slave, that the only thing I could do would be to ignore it. Prove to her that I was not interested in my own sexual desires (though her astonishing feet were amazing at teasing my poor cock, and the entire situation made her taunting nigh impossible to dismiss), only in hers, and in whatever other desires she might have. I took a deep breath, hoping she was not watching me brace myself.

"Thank you very much, Mistress, for allowing me the unforgettable honor of licking your perfect feet. I will be forever grateful to you for that amazing gift. I apologize I could not have done better."

"No thank you then, Slave?" she asked after staring at me for a few moments, "for easing your so obviously strained cock with my feet?" She tapped the ball of her right foot down on my penis, slapping it down forcefully enough to let her foot tap my balls as well, and watched to see my reaction. I contained my pain and clenched my teeth, loving her all the more, and wishing I could be smart enough to not give her reasons to hurt me. "Fine then, we'll just get on to your punishment. I'm afraid, Slave, that you won't enjoy this one. It is completely unrelated to my body, and not sexual or physical at all, simply work, so you don't forget that there is no one below you, and that you are to do as I say, regardless of whether you enjoy it, like you do licking my sweaty feet. Which is a gross thought, for any normal person, yet to you, it is an unparalleled dream come true. So, instead of letting you enjoy another strange fetish or fantasy, you get an everyday, boring task, though you will still be on your knees and nude of course. You're my Slave. You're going to take the toothbrush, the Lysol, and the towel over there, lying on the desk, and you are going to scrub the floor of my room. The scrubbing will be done with the toothbrush as well, just so we're clear. The towel is only there for the excess. Understand, Slave?"

"Yes Mistress. Shall I begin, Mistress?"

Her mouth opened slightly, and her she looked down at me so that her eyes looked at me critically. Suddenly, she leaned forward and grabbed me by the balls, squeezing and tugging on them. I clenched my teeth to keep from crying out in pain. From where she sat, my balls were just below the level her feet dangled at, so she was leaning forward, facing me from just inches away. Despite her obvious displeasure, I could not help but feel lucky to have her so close to me. The dark make up around her eyes gave her a threateningly seductive look as her eyes widened with anger. Her red lips stuck out from her soft, cream-colored skin, and shined under the dorm lights. Her smell was alluring, and her eyes, beneath the anger, were a captivating blue. To be so close to her made me tingle with a privileged feeling that filled me, as I simultaneously swallowed a whimper of pain."

"Shall you, Slave?" she asked me crisply. "You have very quickly begun to take for granted the privilege you've been granted of being allowed to serve me. Your idiocy in this one instance may have been just a slip up, as your slow mind is dulled more from the overwhelming experience of being allowed to clean my magnificent feet with your tongue. But that'd better be the last senseless thing I hear come out of your mouth slave, or you will never again have the honor of any part of me going into it. Am I totally, clear? A yes or no answer will suffice Slave, I tire of hearing the extravagant praises and promises to serve me adequately, only to see your actions repeatedly fall short."

"Yes Mistress."

"Good, Slave." She released me with a disgusted flick of her wrist. I let out my breath, trying to ignore the pain in my gut. "Now. Before you begin to clean, put my heels on my feet; and don't be overeager. You can pick my foot up by my ankle, there's no need for you to touch my foot for this."

"Yes Mistress."

I did as I was told, lifting her feet to place them into the heels I picked up from where I had placed them on the floor next to me. I did the task quickly, attempting to not stare at her feet, yet steadily to be sure I did not make the experience uncomfortable in any way for my Mistress. After finishing, I sat back on my knees once more, keeping my head far enough down to make it apparent I was not checking out her feet.

"Well at least you can complete one task effectively. Good boy, Slave. To make sure you remember how to be efficient when you need to be, you may kiss each of my feet once. I will even allow the kiss to be on the skin on the top of my foot."

"Thank you so much, Mistress."