Training a Foot Fetishist Slave
Monica Princess giggled as she watched the slave kneel before her, his eyes filled with desire as he stared at her legs dangling off the bed. She couldn't help but feel amused by his desperation; he was eager to please her, yet she continued to ignore him. It was like having a puppy at her feet, always ready for a command but never quite sure if it would come.
"Tell me, slave," she purred, running her hands along the silky fabric of her nylons. "How do you feel when you're this close to me but yet so far away?" Her heels danced in the air, teasing him with every movement.
The slave's voice quivered as he replied, "I... am yours to command, Mistress. I am yours to please." He couldn't help but fantasize about what it would feel like to have those heels pressed against his face, to taste the softness of her skin.
"That's a good boy," Monica said, leaning back on the bed. "Now, tell me more about how you serve other mistresses. What kind of things do you do for them?" She knew this would be an uncomfortable question for him, but she wanted to make sure he understood that his loyalty belonged to her alone.
The slave hesitated for a moment before answering, "I... I have served other mistresses, Mistress. But they were not as beautiful or as alluring as you are. My loyalty is yours alone."
Monica smirked, liking the sound of that. She reached down and ran her fingers through his hair, pulling him closer. "You see," she whispered, her warm breath tickling his ear. "You really are mine, aren't you?" She could feel his cock throbbing against the floor, eager for release.
"Yes, Mistress," he moaned, his eyes rolling back into his head. "I am yours."
"That's a good boy," she said again, squeezing his head affectionately. "Now, tell me... how many fingers am I holding up?" With that, she lifted her hand, her middle finger extended.
"Two fingers, Mistress!" he shouted, his excitement getting the better of him.
Monica laughed. "Wrong," she said, shaking her head. "You should have kept your mouth shut until I told you to speak. Now, we're going to start over." She lowered her hand and began counting down from five on her fingers.
The slave knew what this meant: he would have to wait for her command to cum, and each second would feel like an eternity. But he also knew that the wait would make it all the more intense when she finally gave him the word. He closed his eyes, trying to concentrate on his breathing as he waited for her command.
"Five," she counted down, her voice soft and seductive. "Four... Three... Two..." She paused, leaving him on the edge for what felt like an eternity. "One," she finally said, her hand snapping open.
The slave let out a moan of pure ecstasy as he came all over the floor, his entire body shaking with pleasure. "Good boy," Monica said, reaching down to pat him on the head. "You did well."
With that, she stood up, her nylons still damp from his cum. "That's enough for today," she said, walking away from him. "But remember, slave: you're mine to command, and I will always make you wait for my pleasure."
As she left the room, the slave could only watch her go, already aching for the next time he would get to serve his beloved Mistress.
