It had been a very uneventful day. I had
waited on the usual heavily made up dancers and harder edged gothic girls as
well as the devoted but smaller stream of quiet men seeking larger sizes. Sometimes I have to shake my head at the glowing
tones people use when they refer to "the scene."
Listening to this kind of drive would
give those who didn't know any better that all Mistresses were Dark
Goddesses
and the ones who served them were lightly oiled and graciously muscled.
Working in a place like this you came to realize that dancers weren't
necessarily graceful or beautiful under normal light and few women if
any could
live up to the romanticized view
attached to Mistress or Goddess.
So what? I suppose it didn't hurt to dream a little. Being a man no
longer in his youth and neither lightly oiled or graciously muscled
didn’t rob me of my fantasies. After all, I still had occasional
encounters with some talented and appealing women. I considered myself
a lucky guy.
Glancing
over the shelves of shoes on display as well as the hanging sets of
shiny boots in various lengths and vibrant colors I smiled.
Picking up a few boxes that had been strewn casually across the floor,
I placed the platforms neatly back into their boxes and began to carry
them into the back room when I heard the door ring as someone
entered. Casually I came striding back into the shop to see
a tall woman staring directly at me. Feeling a bit awkward I smiled
gingerly at her.
Without acknowledging my smile she began to view the rows of shoes from an arms length.
"You own this shop?" she said in a tone that made the question
sound more like a statement. Her eyes turned to roam along a section of
particularly deadly looking spiked pumps.
A bit put off by the odd question I paused. Turning to look back
at me with unspoken expectation I spat out, "Um, no, the owner isn't in
today." I was a little surprised at the apologetic pitch my voice took.
Looking me over once more, this time with less enthusiasm she
said, “Well, I suppose you will have to do then, won't you?" Her head
lifted slightly as she spoke over me. Saying nothing this time I felt
my mouth clench tightly.
Peeling her black leather gloves from her hands she smirked. Her
dark eyes glared at me and seemed set apart from the pale skin that
surrounded them. A pair of delicately thin hands stuffed the gloves
into a deep coat pocket and undid the sash about her waist.
"Well, are you going to take my coat or are you going to just stand
there gawking?" Annoyed this time I quickly took her coat and hung it
out of the way stopping only once to glance back at her watching my
progress.
She
wore a flattering short white skirt and jacket that accentuated her
thin waist and neatly clung to her hips. Bare legged my eyes couldn’t
help being drawn to the red toenails that peeked seductively from
underneath her open shoes.
Choosing the largest chair in the shop she sat down with quiet
importance. I took the chance to quietly sneak to a chair opposite her
while she brushed her skirt neatly down over her legs. When she was
satisfied she crossed her legs and circled her foot lazily while she
spoke. My eye was caught by the ankle bracelet that sported a small
charm bearing the symbol of the female sex.
"I am a picky woman and I intend to buy a few pairs of shoes as well as
at least one pair of boots. I expect to be indulged for the length of
my stay and if all goes well you will have a tidy little sale to show
your boss when he returns." She looked me over once again and then said
with all seriousness, "Do you think you can handle that?"
Bristling under her obvious patronizing demeanor I said simply,
"That's my job." Waiting as if expecting more of an answer than this she frowned slightly with obvious distaste.
She turned her attention to her purse and said without looking up,
“Show me what you have in a thin heel in black size 8." As I stood she
continued to busy herself with her purse and finished with, "They
should be a medium height and not too obviously fetish."
Turning to the rows of shoes I noticed a few styles that fit her
criteria. Speaking from across the room I began with, "Over here we
have a..." the lady's head quickly shot up and abruptly cut my sentence
short. An expression of loathing crossed her face as she said, "Don't
shout across the room, bring them to me you idiot!"
Dropping my jaw and blushing with surprise I gaped at her. My Heart
thudded in my chest as I stood staring at her with surprise. Finally
managing to croak out a response I started with, "Hey lady, I don't..."
but was once again cut off by the dark woman.
"I
don't profess to being any kind of a lady but I am the customer here
and I expect to be waited on, so would you kindly BRING the shoes to
ME." Snatching up the styles I had selected I brought them before her
and laid them out one by one. Crouching before her I glanced at the
door and vaguely wondered just how long this was going to take.
After
a short deliberation she tossed the small package from her purse at my
feet and lifted her foot in my direction. "You will have to remove my
ankle bracelet before you put them on me." She turned her foot with her
slim ankle, the bracelet dangling before me for added emphasis.
I wavered stupidly with her foot in my face. Finally I tore my eyes
from her foot and picked up the small package. Turning it in my hands
it seemed to be an alien thing that I viewed with caution and limited
comprehension.
From above me the woman with raven hair and a scarlet mouth said in a
tired and petulant manner, "Open the package, take off my shoe and
bracelet, put on the stockings and try the shoes on." Waking from my
reverie I tore the package open and extracted the sheer black
stockings. Shifting my weight I concentrated on the delicate buckles of
her shoe straps. My large fingers slowed my progress but I eventually
completed the task and slipped her shoes expertly off her feet.
Leaning over her red toenails and beautifully formed ankles I focused
now on the bracelet with the tiny symbol. The clasp was even smaller
than the buckles but I managed it. Happy to be making progress, it
didn’t occur to me to be offended by the strange orders the woman had
given me.
Not having ever really dealt with stockings before I was looking over
the thin gauzy material now in my hands. Dropping into a kneeling
stance I used my thumbs to gather the silky garment for the foot
anxiously awaiting it.
I felt my body shiver as I guided the thin layer of fabric over her
long legs with my fingers. Repeating this ritual of quiet worship upon
her other leg I looked up into a face that seemed pleased with my
demonstration.
"Good," she said. "Now, put that pair on me." She gestured to a pair of
attractive pumps and I guided her willing toes and heel into the snug
confines of the shoe. Glancing up from my kneeling position I was
somewhat taken aback by the image of her. Without thinking I inhaled
deeply and thought it odd that I hadn't noticed just how appealing her
perfume was long before.
Standing with confidence before the mirror she modeled the shoes for
herself. I marveled at the contrast of her light suit and dark hair,
her pale skin and dark stockings. I was glad to be firmly set on the
floor rather than standing. Saying more to herself than to me she said,
"Yes, I will take these." Taking her chair once more she lifted her leg
and thrust her foot expectantly into my hands.
Saying nothing this time I slid the shoe from her foot and lingered for
a moment cradling her ankle. We repeated the process for the next few
pairs of shoes until she chose a second pair. When she was satisfied
with her choices she kicked the rejected boxes at me and stated flatly,
"You will remove these."
The boots were an experience unto themselves. Thinking the shoes were
an indication of what was to come I found myself questioning my lack of
foresight. The heavy material molded to her shapely calf as I pulled
the laces taut.
Once again below her I became
enthralled with the smell of the new boots and her perfume. I felt
nearly hypnotized by the rhythm of the lacing and the delicate and
calculating swing of her ankle. After tying the boots I found myself
gripped by a spontaneous response. Leaning over with a dancer's grace I
kissed the bows I had just tied.
Before I had time to question my
action I felt her hand swiftly strike the side of my head. Not daring
to look into her face this time I started with, "I, I didn't..."
Cutting me off once more she said, "You didn't ask." This time a
teasing smile played across her scarlet mouth and I nodded my
understanding. I whispered, "Please."
Nodding her head yes, I pressed my lips enthusiastically against the
boots. A wave of contentment rushed over me. With true admiration I
gushed, "Truly, you make them look even more impressive."
Nodding, she silently agreed to my statement. "Yes, these are the ones,
ring them up and take them to my driver." Sitting down she once again
indicated her need for service and I unlaced and slid the boots from
their new owner. As I boxed them up I noticed with disappointment that
she herself removed the sheer stockings and slid her feet once more
into the sandals she had arrived in.
As if reading my thoughts she held the stockings on display for my
tortured eyes. She motioned to her driver outside who took care of the
bill and then fetched her coat. He then stood waiting to hold the door
for her when she was ready.
When she had finished tying her coat closed she favored me with one
last look. "You did better than I expected," she said with a mildly
pleased tone. "I won't be needing these anymore," she declared as she
tossed the rolled stockings across the counter at me.
Neither bothering to wait nor seeming to expect a response she turned
and walked out of the shop. Feeling embarrassed I tucked the stockings
quickly into my pocket. The driver tipped his head in my direction and
gave me a knowing smile that made me blush deeply.
I sat exhausted. With no trace of the woman left in the shop I sat
questioning the whole experience. Tentatively I placed my hand into my
pocket and drew out the black stockings that still smelled like her.
Putting them against my face I breathed in and whispered, "Poison."
The characters in this story are fictional. Any resemblance to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental.
For the experience of a lifetime visit Foot Worship at:
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Street
San Francisco, CA
415-921-3668