A Royal Affair: The Beginning
Princess Marry Anne sat on her throne, her feet dangling gracefully off the edge. She was young, barely twenty, with flawless skin and long, dark hair that cascaded down her back. Today was a special day. Today, she would embark on a journey that would change her life forever.
Her servant, Emanuele, knelt before her, his head bowed in respect. His eyes were trained on her feet, which were adorned in shiny, black high heels. They were covered in a fine layer of sweat, and Marry Anne could feel the desire building within him.
"Rise, Emanuele," she said softly, her voice like silk. "I have something special planned for you today."
Emanuele slowly raised his head, his dark eyes meeting hers. A nervous tremor ran through him as he realized what she was implying. He had only ever dreamed of being at the service of a royal foot slave before, and now it seemed as though his dreams were about to come true.
Marry Anne leaned forward, her breasts pressing against the fabric of her dress. She reached out and took hold of Emanuele's chin, gently guiding his gaze back to her feet. "Today," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, "I will make you my own personal foot slave."
Emanuele swallowed hard, his throat suddenly dry. He nodded eagerly, unable to tear his eyes away from her feet. Marry Anne smiled, pleased with his obedience. She climbed off the throne, her high heels clicking against the marble floor.
"First," she said, her voice taking on a commanding tone, "you must worship my feet."
Emanuele didn't hesitate. He crawled forward on his knees, his hands clasped together in front of him. He pressed his lips to her feet, kissing them gently. He could feel the warmth radiating from her skin, the sweet scent of her perfume filling his nostrils.
"Good boy," Marry Anne murmured, her voice full of approval. She ran her hands through his hair, guiding his head up to look at her. "Now," she said, "I want you to tell me how much you desire to be my foot slave."
Emanuele looked up at her, his eyes filled with longing. "My Princess," he whispered, "I desire nothing more than to serve you faithfully, for the rest of my life."
Marry Anne smiled, her heart fluttering with anticipation. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small black bag. From it, she produced a silky scarf, which she used to gag Emanuele's mouth. She knelt down in front of him, her face just inches from his.
"From this moment on," she said, her voice now low and husky, "you will be at my beck and call. You will do anything I ask of you, no matter how humiliating or degrading. Do you understand?"
Emanuele nodded vigorously, his eyes wide with terror and excitement. Marry Anne smiled again, satisfied with his response. She stood up, her high heels clicking against the floor as she walked back to her throne.
Emanuele watched her, his heart racing with anticipation. He couldn't wait to see what else she had in store for him. As he sat there, bound and gagged, he knew that his life was about to change forever. And he couldn't be more excited about it.
