To My Dearest Footlicker

My stilettos echo through the room as you kneel beneath me. Head bowed, I see you sneaking glances at my perfect, perfect feet through my open toed heels. You’re already salivating at the mouth imagining my heel down your throat. I thrust my feet on top of your back, Hmph! You may have some usefulness to me after all, you make quite the footstool. My poor feet have been working incredibly hard all day and you my little foot slave are going to rejuvenate them.

My toes lift your chin so that you look me in the eyes. Look me in the eyes and imagine the scent of my long, elegant feet inside of my shoes. Maybe the odor is ripe from my daily jog. Maybe they’re immaculately fresh from my morning bubble bath....

I caress my ruby red toes along your face. Mph! How good you’ll look with your face buried beneath the soles of my bare feet! But first, you must serve them with your hands and prove to me that you’re a footlicker suitable for the feet of a goddess.

Now listen slave, one by one, you’re going to untie my laces with your mouth. Maybe I’ll strap my heel to your face and leave you for my enjoyment later. Maybe I’ll sit back and watch you cuddle my shoe like a lover. Maybe I’ll wear you like a sock or shove my stocking down your throat to mask your cries for help. Your training starts now, and clearly there’s much to be done.

Nothing brings me pleasure quite like breaking in and training new or experienced foot slaves. I’ll instruct you precisely how to stroke, suckle, and praise my flawless feet. My training process is rigorous and I’m NOT to be rushed. Less than exemplary servitude will result in punishment.

You are meant to worship my posh and polished feet and luxurious, amazonian legs. Your thirst for them will never be sated, so stop evading your purpose and assume your place at my feet.

-Mistress Alethea