One summer, I went to stay with my aunt in California. Sitting at the dining table eating breakfast, my aunt and I started having a conversation about the fashion models in one of her magazines and their specific qualities. She joked, “If only I had longer legs and bigger breasts.” “Are you seriously complaining? You’re a beautiful woman. Those girls don’t have anything on you,” I complimented. “You’re sweet. Actually, I’ve thought about being a foot model. Don’t you think I have pretty feet?” As she asked, she raised a foot and rested it on the table probably no more than 3 inches from my breakfast plate. A little stunned, I hesitated, “Yeah, you have the nicest feet I’ve ever seen.” I could feel my face turning red. “Feel how soft they are,” she added. I cupped my hand around her foot and gently stroked my thumb along her sole. It was soft, and very smooth. I was so amazed by how nice they felt that I didn’t even realize how long I had been touching them. “Mmm, that feels good,” she moaned. Somewhat embarrassed, I stopped. “Pretty nice huh? How about you give me a foot massage while I lay out?” I didn’t know if she was asking or telling but I quickly answered, “Okay, sure.”
My aunt excused herself from the table and went to change. A few minutes later she returned wearing a white string bikini. I was blushing for sure now. I was also staring. Yes she was my aunt, but she was also an absolute babe. She was well aware of my attraction, and she was loving every minute of it. She was 28 and her 15-year-old nephew was drooling over her. She went out on her porch and I followed. As she laid down on the tanning lounge, I noticed there were no other chairs for me to sit in. I wondered how she expected me to massage her feet. Was I to sit at the end of the lounge and place her feet in my lap? It seemed like the most respectable place for me, but it would be difficult to do a good job massaging her feet from that angle and with the sun’s position in the morning sky, I’d totally be blocking her from getting rays. Unfortunately, the only other option I could think of was to kneel on the ground at the end of the lounge where I could face her feet head on. It was kind of awkward, but I wanted to please her. My aunt grinned with obvious delight as I knelt down before her. Without further delay, I wrapped my hands around her lovely foot and began gently swirling my thumbs into her smooth, soft soles. I worked my way from the ball of her foot, down to her heel, and back up to just underneath her toes. I then spread her toes apart and slid my fingers in and out between them. Even I was impressed with my technique, especially since I had only given one foot massage before. “This is how life should be,” she exclaimed. Wanting to be nice, I agreed and told her she deserved to be pampered. She just laughed.
“You know, it’s really hot out here. You should take your shirt off,” she suggested. I was wearing a black polo shirt and she was right, it was very warm. I took off my shirt and my aunt grinned once again. “Wow, look at those muscles…it’s hard to believe those belong to my little nephew.” Again I blushed. “You may want to put some lotion on, and while you’re at it, you can do me as well.” Needless to say, I was a bit excited at the idea of rubbing lotion on her. I grabbed the bottle, squirt a little on myself(not really paying attention) and then quickly crawled over to the side of my aunt and began applying lotion to her legs. What legs! I took my time, slowly caressing them with both hands. I was very careful as I approached her midsection. I looked to her for approval to go near her bikini line, but she just laid there with her eyes closed. I figured what the hell, let her yell at me if I go too far. It was quite a sensation. Then I moved to her stomach. Considering what she ate, she had a great stomach. Very flat. Again, as I moved up, I was careful as I got close to her breasts. Admittedly, I was getting a huge hard on and my hands began to tremble. Finally, she opened her eyes and said, “Okay, back where you belong.” She pointed at her feet as she flexed her arches and toes. Very submissively, I crawled back to her feet. “Actually, before you start again, why don’t you grab me a Pepsi.” I couldn’t believe it, she was actually treating me like a servant. As I got up to go inside, she added, “Make sure the glass has lots of ice.” I just nodded and did as she asked. As I handed her the glass of Pepsi I joked, “Here you are Your Majesty.” “Ooh, I like that. Back on your knees Slave.” I couldn’t tell if she was joking also, or if she was being serious. Regardless, I once again knelt and began to massage her other foot.
I continued with the same technique as I had used for the other foot. She moaned softly as I massaged for another half hour. After a full hour on her back, she decided it was time to turn and lay on her stomach. “I haven’t worn you out have I,” she asked? My knees were absolutely killing me and my hands were cramping from the hour foot massage I had already given her, but there was no way I was going to pass up the opportunity to stare at her ass. “No, I can keep going if you like,” I answered. She smirked, “are you kidding, if I had it my way you’d stay down there forever.” I continued massaging her feet for another 40 minutes until she was finally ready to go in. “Not that I want this to end, but I better go get ready if we’re going to do anything today,” she said. Amazingly, she didn’t even thank me for massaging her feet. She just started to get up and go inside. Before she entered her bedroom, she made a request. “You know, you did such a good job cleaning my sandals before, I may have to have you do the one’s I wear today as well.” Again, the way she said this, it was more in the form of instruction than a request. “Let me take a shower, and then you can clean them while I get ready so I can watch and see how you do it.” “Oh no,” I thought to myself. Little did she know that I had licked the first pair of sandals clean. How was I going to clean this pair? I thought about grabbing paper towels, rinsing them with warm water, and wiping them off. But I knew there was no way I would achieve the same results.
After she got out of the shower, she called me into her room. I got so turned on as soon as I laid eyes on her. Her blonde hair was sopping wet and she was wearing nothing but a towel. She said, “Help me decide what to wear today.” We went through her closet and picked out a nice, tight solid black top, which showed off her gorgeous cleavage, and a pair of white shorts that were cut very high, perfect for showing off her toned, nicely tanned legs. To compliment the outfit, we decided she would look best in a pair of black flip-flops. They were one of her favorite pair because the straps were very thin and exposed more of her beautiful feet than a lot of her others. Her confidence in her feet was so sexy to me. “So how about it, will you clean them for me?” A thought quickly came to my head, “sure, but you know, these are different than the ones I cleaned yesterday. The others were leather with a very smooth inner sole. These are much more porous. So I doubt I can do as good of a job on these.” “Why don’t you lick them clean then,” she asked without any hesitation. Shocked, I replied, “Are you serious?” “Didn’t you just tell me this morning that I have the prettiest feet you’ve ever seen?” “Yes,” I answered. “Well then, prove it,” she said. I don’t know why I did it, but in total humiliation, I lifted the sweat stained flip flop to my lips, stuck out my tongue, and slowly licked from the heel to about half way up the sandal before my aunt interrupted, “No, no, no. I told you I wanted to watch you clean them. Why don’t you come over here and kneel on the ground so that I can see the job you’re doing as I get ready.” I honestly couldn’t believe her arrogance. Nevertheless, still wanting to please her, I obeyed her command and knelt next to where she was putting on her make-up. After kneeling, I placed her flip flops on the floor in front of me, bowed down to them, and again began licking. “Oh yeah, that’s much better. Besides, it’s where a slave belongs anyhow, don’t you think,” she mocked? She was really pushing it but like an idiot, I playfully yet submissively agreed, “Yes Your Majesty.”
As I licked the sweat and dirt from her flip-flops I considered what all of this would lead to. Was she just playing with me, or was she seriously going to start treating me like a slave? And how should I respond? Although it was humiliating, I really didn’t want to upset her. She was so beautiful that I truly did feel she was superior to me. So at that point, I thought what the hell. I would just go with it and see what happens. How bad could it be?
After thoroughly licking the sandals clean, I was proud of the job I had done. No longer could you see a sweat stain. I think my aunt was pleased as well, although I couldn’t be sure since she again failed to thank me. Instead, as soon as she was done with her hair and make-up, she stood up and slid her feet into the flip-flops and began walking out of the room. “C’mon, let’s go,” she said as if we were in a hurry.
As we left the condo and went out to the car I walked behind her. I couldn’t help but stare at her fine ass. She was such a blonde bombshell. As we got to the car she asked, “You have your driver’s permit right?” “Yeah,” I replied. “Why don’t you drive? You can be my chauffeur.” I wondered if she was just being nice by letting me drive or if she really was using me as a chauffeur. I took the keys from her and started to walk to the driver’s side, when she cleared her throat and answered my thoughts, “hh,mm, chauffeurs usually open the door for their passenger.” So I went back around to the passenger’s side and opened her door. But, after I opened the door she just stood there. “You know, that’s quite a high step for me.” She had an SUV and it did have pretty high ground clearance, but then again, somehow she had managed to step up into it the rest of the time. “Lye on your back slave and be my footstep.” For once, there was no question if she was giving me a request or an order. I looked around to see if anybody would see when she barked, “Hurry, I’m waiting!” I immediately laid down on the asphalt, on my back as she commanded. Then she placed her left flip flop clad foot on my chest and then to my utter shock, rather than stepping up into the vehicle with the right foot, she stepped right on my face with it, and then shifting all of her weight to that foot, she stepped up into the vehicle. The pain was excruciating and I wondered if she had left a footprint on my face. I was so stunned by what had occurred, I continued to lye on the ground for several seconds after she got into the car. “Slave, again I’m waiting,” she said very impatiently. I picked myself off the ground, got in the car and pulled away. She simply smiled at my humiliation.
We went to the mall where my aunt shopped for hours, buying easily $500 in clothes and new shoes. My fun was carrying all of her bags and telling her how gorgeous she looked each and every time she came out of a changing room with something new on. In addition, I must of helped her try on 50 pairs of shoes. She tried every kind on you can imagine, from Italian designed stiletto pumps to Birkenstocks. I was a bit humiliated putting them on her feet, but I figured most people probably just thought I worked for the store. After about 5 hours, she was finally done. Without even thinking about it, I opened her car door and laid down to serve as her footstep. This time she stepped on my face first, which again caught me off guard, and smashed my lips and nose. As I got up, I noticed two teenage girls laughing at me. My face, which was already red from the pain of my aunt stepping on it, turned even more red in humiliation. Then as I got into the SUV, my aunt also laughed, “I didn’t think you’d do that for me in public but that’s the first thing you’ve done right all day without me telling you.” I was disgusted with myself but yet relieved she was happy with my efforts.
As soon as we got back to her condo, she plopped down on the sofa. “I’m exhausted,” she exclaimed. She thought she was exhausted, yet I was the one who had carried all the bags. She continued to whine, “and my feet are killllling me.” Recognizing that as another opportunity to please her without being given a command, I asked, “Would you like for me to give you another foot massage?” “Mmm, that sounds good but actually I can think of something I’d like even better. I’ve always wanted a human ottoman. Why don’t you come over here, get on your hands and knees, and be my footrest while I watch some TV.” Like the obedient slave I was becoming, I quickly did just as she requested. Then as I knelt on all fours, she kind of gently kicked me in the side of the cheek with her flip flop. “You have to take off my sandals first silly,” she criticized. “Actually, don’t move. I like how you’re positioned right now. You can just take them off with your mouth.” She then stretched out her legs so that her feet were right in front of my face and I gently clamped one flip flop with my lips, slid it away from her foot, and let it drop to the floor where it landed right on my hand. I then followed the same procedure for the next foot, and wouldn’t you know it, the other flip flop landed on my other hand. Then just as I prepared to feel her feet be kicked up on my back she stopped. “Before I put my feet on your back, take your shirt off. You wouldn’t want my feet getting dirty from when you laid down in the parking lot would you?” I said, “No Your Majesty,” and stripped off my shirt. When I replaced my hands she commented, “put my sandals back on top of your hands. I liked them there.” I did as she said and immediately after doing so, I felt her feet come crashing down on my bare back. Although her feet were amazingly soft, the way her heels were resting on my lower back, it was actually quite painful. And the pain lasted for about an hour as she flipped channels and relaxed.
Eventually she got hungry so she nudged my cheek again with her foot and told me to go make her dinner. She asked me if I knew how to make my Mom’s tacos and told me that’s what she wanted. So I ran off to the kitchen and went to work. “Put my sandals away while you’re at it,” she commanded. I made the tacos and made her a plate, which I set on the dining room table for her. I then began preparing myself a plate but she stopped me, “You can eat later. For now, you can continue being my footrest. Lay down under the table so that I can rest my pretty feet on your manly chest.” Although it was another order, it was about the nicest thing she said to me since my becoming her slave boy. I laid down and she propped both feet on my chest, actually resting one foot on each of my pecks. After she took the first bite, she changed her mind. “Mmm, these are delicious. I feel bad though. You’re probably starving and can’t help to smell this yummy food.” With that I thought she was going to let me out from under the table and join her in dining, but how naïve of me. “Why don’t you slide down a bit and I can rest me feet on your face so the smell of the food will be masked a bit.” I couldn’t believe she was serious. This was getting to be too much. But once again, I obeyed. I slid down and looked straight up in preparation to be used as nothing but a piece of carpet. She rested the heel of one foot directly on my chin and crossed her other foot over it so that all weight was on one point and both feet hovered above my nose. Immediately my nostrils were filled with a heavy aroma. Surprisingly, while the smell was a bit overwhelming, I found it to be a very sexy scent in some way.
After about 5-10 minutes, she lifted her feet off and back to my chest where she used me to push back in her chair. “You know, I feel bad. Here I’m getting to enjoy the taste of something I love, why shouldn’t you get that opportunity as well?” She then scooted her chair back in and gently stroked my lips with her toes. “Lick my delicious feet boy.” This was the ultimate command. I was disgusted, humiliated, and excited all at the same time. Knowing how bad her feet smelled, I knew her feet were sweaty and dirty. But on the other hand, I was licking the skin of this total babe. So although it was nasty, I was totally turned on. I licked her feet for all I was worth. As I did, she moaned softly with pleasure. I was wondering if it was exciting her as well. “That feels soooo good.” I licked long strokes, heel to toe, toe to heel. Then I swallowed each toe individually into my mouth and sucked. “Don’t forget in between my toes,” she reminded me. Although I could hardly get enough, she pulled her feet away from me after I had covered them completely.
“I’m going to take a shower to clean all of your nasty saliva off my feet. Why don’t you put away the food, clean up the kitchen, and then meet me in the bedroom. You can massage my feet while I go to sleep,” she directed. “Yes Your Majesty, thank you Your Majesty.” I couldn’t believe the sound of my own voice. I was thanking her for completely using and abusing me. And now I was beginning to volunteer myself. As soon as I was done in the kitchen, I went and laid down face up in front of her bedside. When she came out of the bedroom, it was as if I wasn’t even in the room. She simply walked over in her nightgown and without any sort of hesitation, stepped on my face. This time I was prepared but the pain was just as intense. However, it was nothing compared to the next move she made which was to spin on the ball of her foot so that she could sit down on the bed. As she spun, the skin on my face stretched and felt like receiving an Indian burn. She then sat on her bed and did who knows what since her foot was now resting flat across my face, covering my eyes completely. Then I heard her say, “You know, I really could use a bathmat from now on after my shower.” At that moment, I forgot about the humiliation and pain she had put me through, not to mention my aching stomach since I hadn’t eaten anything since breakfast, and reveled in the idea that I may get to see her nude. Ironically, I couldn’t believe how lucky I was. She lifted her feet from my face and crawled under the covers. “You can massage my feet now until I fall asleep. And, after you are absolutely sure I’m asleep, I want you lying back on the floor as you were. I don’t want to have to step on the bare floor if I need to get up in the middle of the night. I knelt on the floor at the foot of her bed massaging her feet. “What a day,” I thought to myself.
The next morning I awoke with a sore back, and a dry mouth, which still had the salty taste of feet. “Why aren’t you rubbing my feet slave?” The sound of my aunt’s voice startled me. I quickly jumped to my knees and crawled to the foot of the bed. I reached under the covers and gently grabbed her foot. “You disappoint me Slave. I expected to wake up to the feeling of my feet being massaged. Disappoint me again and you’ll be rubbing them all night long,” she stated. “Sorry Your Majesty. I will not let it happen again,” I apologized as I attempted to pull her foot towards me. “What do you think you’re doing? Don’t you think if I wanted to extend my leg, I would do it myself? I’m comfortable how I am. You will adjust for me. You should also look at my feet when you massage them. Stick your head under the sheets. Since you’re so stupid, I’m going to have to lay down some ground rules. From now on, you will kneel and bow before me each time you greet me. You will stay on your knees whenever in my presence. You will not speak unless spoken too, and requested to answer. When others are not around, you will address me as Your Majesty, or Queen. I will call you Slave or whatever I feel like. You will do all of the cleaning and cooking without being told. Beyond that, you will do whatever I say and will wait on me hand and foot.
To be continued…