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Foot Worship: The Training of A Foot Slave

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Would she just laugh at me and make a silly joke, or would she think I’m taking this too serious now? I waited a few seconds and Rebecca replied in her not-too-serious way. Right…” I responded uncertain what to say, now that it was seemingly over, so Rebecca took that part for me. I heard Rebeccas gentle giggle from above me. “That’s not good enough, foot slave. Your mistress is punishing you, so sniff loud and clearly, so I can hear how you enjoy the sweaty, disgusting smell of my beloved boots.” In our conversation, foot fetishists explain what foot worship is, they talk about their favorite pedicure colors, and dominatrixes talk about what they've learned from some of their clients. Even if you're just interested in cute pedicures, Goddess Aviva, a New York City-based pro-domme, has plenty of foot-care secrets to share. And what better time to learn about all this than on I Love My Feet Day, a real holiday that occurs every year on August 17? Our feet carry us around all day and they deserve all the love they can get, so read on for a celebration of feet like no other. What does a foot fetish typically entail?

Yes, I am serious. But let’s do quid pro quo - You worship and massage my aching feet when I come home, as trade-off you help me more frequently with my homework and invite me to lunch in the cafeteria when I feel like it. What do you say? Deal?” But I’m not entirely wrong?” I mused. Rebecca avoided my stare, but couldn’t keep her lips from rising. Young, ambitioned Biology-student molests older men with feet of questionable hygiene.’ God, the media will love it…”

Edit: I cant, becauseof the word limitation per post. So I'll give you the rest of the chapters here. I'll alsolink you the drive-textswhere I wrote this story and which is imo the best place to read them. Definitely. I wouldn’t do something like that with a stranger, but since it’s you, why not? At the very least this will be interesting.” Why can’t I? Do you think I’m naive enough to never have heard anything about foot-fetishism before?”

She started to rub her feet up and down on my face and I kept inhaling fast and intense, I felt like I would become high on her foot-smell soon, if not completely addicted. She spread her sweat over my entire face. No, I wouldn’t say they smell, I don’t think your feet smelled bad for a long time, so you improved on that, but… you know. The uncomfortable fragrance is still there. We go into the hair dresser’s salon room and she’s super sweet. She offers us some wine and we all have a glass and sort of chill. Eventually Goddess tells me to get down on my knees and give Wendi (the hair dresser) the money. “Count it as you give her the money, show her what a good boy you are.” Goddess said. Never refuse to do a task I tell you to no matter how gross, embarrassing, or weird it is. Even if it ruins your reputation or could get you into legal trouble, you gladly take that risk. You always do as you are told. We took a few minutes to recover a bit, I tried to calm my exploding heart and aching pants, and savored the taste in my mouth, tried to ache the smell, taste and form of her feet forever in my memories so I would never, ever forget them. Since Rebeccas feet lay directly on my head and I kneeled in front of her bed I couldn’t really see her, but judging from how silent it was, she was thinking. When she came to a conclusion, I heard her snapping her fingers. She took her feet off my head and looked at me friendly.Yes Goddess!!” I exclaimed lowering my head face to the floor again. “Thank you Goddess.” I continued. Every morning when you wake up and every night before bed, you will worship my feet no matter how tired you are. Thank you again for this, Rebecca. I know this is somehow sexual, and thereby awkward, but it means a lot to me that I got the chance to enjoy my love for feet for once, and I won’t’” This stuff is sooo fake-y! I mean seriously, who does that in private?!” she shouted while exerting her arms to her sides in an irritated manner. I laughed at her obvious criticism for mainstream-fetishporn, and she throwed her pillow at me. I took a deep breath and readied myself, convincing me this was not a dream, this was still real, and I had to do a good job so Rebecca would be satisfied with my work in the end. And her wonderful, perfect bare feet were waiting for me, dripping with smelly sweat. I put my fingers on the shoelaces of her left boot, only to be stopped by Rebecca withdrawing it from my hands. I looked up to her to find out what was my mistake, she slowly shook her head with a small smirk.

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