A Foot Slut's Obsession: Worshiping Mistress Mary's Perfect Feet
Mary was a stunning woman with a body to die for. She had blue eyes that could hypnotize anyone, and her long, silky hair cascaded down her back. Her figure was curvaceous yet toned, accentuated by the tight clothes she wore. But it was her feet that truly captivated most people. They were perfect: smooth, soft, and delicate - yet powerful enough to make anyone's knees weak at the sight of them.
Vicky was one such person who became obsessed with Mistress Mary's feet. She had been a foot fetishist since she was young, and when she first saw Mary's feet, it was love at first sight. She couldn't control her urges anymore and confessed her desires to Mary. To her surprise, Mary not only accepted but also trained her as her personal foot slave.
Vicky's days revolved around pleasuring Mistress Mary's feet. She spent hours massaging them, cleaning them, sniffing them, and even worshiping them with her tongue. She loved every minute of it and cherished every opportunity to be close to those perfect feet.
One hot summer day, Mary decided to test Vicky's devotion by making her clean her sweaty feet. Vicky knelt before her mistress, trembling with anticipation and fear. Mary watched with a smirk as Vicky struggled to keep up with the task, her own feet starting to sweat under the weight of expectation.
"Slow down, Vicky," Mary said, her voice laced with sarcasm. "You're doing such a bad job at cleaning my feet. Aren't you supposed to be my expert in foot worship?"
Vicky winced at the harsh tone but couldn't help herself from sniffing her mistress's sweaty socks. It was the best part of her job, the only part that gave her any sense of pleasure. She tried to move faster, but fatigue was starting to take hold.
Mary noticed this with a displeased look and decided it was time for a little punishment. She taped Vicky's mouth shut, making sure to catch every droplet of saliva that escaped, before placing one of her bare feet on the trembling slave's nose. The scent of her feet, mixed with the sweat and dirt from the floor, was overwhelming for Vicky.
"Smell that?" Mary asked, her voice muffled by the tape. "That's the smell of true devotion. Now you not only have to clean my feet properly but also enjoy every minute of it."
With that, Mary lifted her foot off Vicky's nose and placed it back on the floor. She then proceeded to take off her socks and placed both feet on Vicky's face, letting out a satisfied sigh. Vicky struggled to breathe, her nostrils filled with the intoxicating aroma of her mistress's feet. She couldn't help but imagine what it would be like to taste them, to make them a part of her.
As the hours passed, Vicky's mind drifted between pleasure and pain. She loved pleasing Mistress Mary, of that there was no doubt. But the constant teasing and testing took a toll on her soul. She wondered when, or even if, she would ever be worthy of her mistress's love.
In the end, Vicky knew that her place was at Mary's feet, no matter how humiliating or degrading the task might be. For her, it was a small price to pay for the chance to be close to perfection.
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