Subject: Story - foot worshiping PG-13
From: femfeet@aol.com (FemFeet)
Date: 30 Nov 1994 01:05:03 -0500
Newsgroups: alt.sex.fetish.feet
Dear Friends,

Thank you to those of you who have sent such nice letters through the nasty posts about me. I'm back and wearing my flame-retardant stockings. Enjoy my story or feel free to kill file if you think I'm a man, or am going to send you a bill for it.

In Command Mistress Selina

Ferry Ride After a long weekend visiting friends, we board the ferry boat in my car. I'm driving, as usual. After steering into position, as directed by the parking attendant, I turn off the car. You watch as my black knee-high boot presses firmly on the emergency brake to set it, as I recline my seat to rest during the trip.

You've been in the car for two hours now, and ask my permission to use the rest room on the ferry. "No," I say, "I've had to do the driving and I want some pampering while I rest. You can use the rest room later."

My wool leggings are tucked inside my boots, and you have no idea what I'm wearing on my feet, underneath the boots. I turn toward you, rest against the door, and swing my boots onto your lap, telling you to rub my ankles. You ask, "Through your boots, Mistress?" The puzzlement on your face is entertaining.

"Of course," I laugh. "You can surely rub my ankles through soft leather, can't you?" I smile at the parking attendant who looks in the window to see me forcing my feet upon you. You see him chuckle as he walks past.

You start rubbing one leather boot at the ankle, while I relax and close my eyes. After several minutes of attention and taking care to hold my foot and rotate the tension out of my ankle, you set down the first boot and take the other. As you administer the same treatment to the second ankle, the sound of the leather acts to relax me further.

Half asleep, I mumble, "Take off my boots, dear." You open the door so you can do this without disturbing my comfort. You pull the boots off, disappointed to see I'm wearing thin black ankle socks instead of nylons. You're tempted to remove my socks, as well, but know better. As you continue rubbing my ankles, I slide my own socks off with my toes. My soft, pale feet look better than ever, due the hours of pampering you've been commanded to give them recently. The soft pink nail polish was not a color you'd have picked, but you're certain that no other feet could wear it better.

"Lick my toes, servant," comes the command you'd been waiting to hear. You hold my foot to you mouth and start with my little toe. You lick the bottom, then the top, then circle your tongue completely around my toe. Just as you are about to move to second, you hear giggling and look up to see two girls in their late teens turn the corner.

You set my foot in your lap so they won't see what you're doing. You hope I've drifted to sleep so I won't notice you've stopped, but I open my eyes and nudge the side of your head with my foot. You look at me to see a stern, even slightly angry look. While resuming the toe licking, you hope the girls won't look in the car as they pass. It is obvious my hopes are different when I find the automatic window switch and roll down your window as the girls approach. You close your eyes and keep licking my toes, without being able to enjoy the moment. Maybe the next time you open your eyes the girls will have passed, without seeing. Just as the thought crosses your mind, you hear another giggle. Your eyes are still shut but you can feel them looking at you, and the giggles are right beside you. You know they are ridiculing what you're being made to do.

Your heart is pounding as the giggles fade behind you. You look at me and know by the satisfied look that they did witness the tongue bath you'd been ordered to give my feet. After a couple moments you are able to relax and once again enjoy pleasing me. As the ferry docks, you realize you've made it to my big toe without even remembering licking the last three toes. You take my toe into your mouth and feel the pleasure spread through me.

Other people start returning to their cars and you're relieved when I take my feet away so you won't have to suck my toes as all the people are passing. You offer to put my socks and boots back on for the drive home. I say I'd rather wait until the next rest stop so I can enjoy having my boots off for a while. Besides, you need to hurry and use the rest room before the cars start unloading.