by Ella Ford
They endured this for five long minutes, then Ms. Klein mischievously started making exaggerated motions with her fingers across the dials and buttons of the control units. Nikki and Kaitlyn readied themselves, eyes held shut. The speed changed, faster now, different. A more intense vibration mixed with a hint of rotation.
Nikki gasped as she felt the length swirl around her pussy, pressing on the soft walls and transferring its strong vibration to her clit. She reached out a hand and grabbed Kaitlyn’s upper arm, desperate to steady herself. Kaitlyn did the same, her head bowed forward spilling her long blonde hair between them in a honey cascade.
“Oh, God!” cried Nikki, panting heavily. She struggled to find a comfortable place in the relentless motion of the shaft within her. The intense feelings washing over her only increased, there was seemingly no plateau. She thought it might be getting away from her, that she might lose control. Then suddenly, it evened off, a constant warmth radiating out of her pussy to her belly and limbs. She sighed, her breath coming in slow, sharp gasps. Her skin was slick with sweat, as was Kaitlyn’s. Nikki glanced across and saw the other girl throw her head back as she fought to control the raging fever. Nikki gripped her arm, desperate to calm the girl. Slowly, excruciatingly, she too found the rhythm, her body rocking backwards and forwards. She swept her hand through her long hair, tossing it behind her and flashed a smile at Nikki, face glistening in the dim light.
Ms. Klein smiled, “Very good girls. I can tell that you must be very eager to please your mistress. How about we find out just how eager you are?” She flicked the dial once again.
Nikki felt the vibration change once more, no longer constant but coming in rhythmic pulses. Strong bursts of intensity followed by low humming. The rotation continued, wider this time, pushing harder on her tired hole. Each pulse sent waves of pleasure through Nikki, electrifying her body. She tensed, seeing that point of no return that her body craved looming up on the horizon. She was filled with the urge to run towards it, to embrace it, to release herself into the energy of the climax and let it take her body where it wanted. Her other hand reached out for Kaitlyn, grabbing the back of her neck. She pulled her close, mouth’s inches apart. She held her there, relishing the warmth of her short breaths on her face. Her face radiated heat, she seemed lost in her own struggle and barely noticed Nikki.
Nikki kissed her, no tender preamble now, she pressed their mouths together with a savage hunger. Kaitlyn parted her mouth, her tongue darted out to meet Nikki’s and they dueled together for endless seconds. Nikki probed forward, licking Kaitlyn’s mouth, her cheeks, her nose. She craved the salty taste of the girl’s sweat, drank the warmth of her arousal inside herself. Kaitlyn’s hands rose to Nikki’s breasts, roughly massaging the tender flesh.
Her mind raced. She was close now. The touch of the other girl and the relentless rhythm within her pussy threatened to push her over the edge. She struggled to retain focus, thought only of her mistress and the sweet taste of her warm lips. She longed for this, longed to be allowed to please her. But the very thought of this pushed her closer. The erotic energy of Ms. Klein’s being inflaming her desires, washing over her and compounding the pleasure she already felt.
Too late, she realised that she had lost control of this raging bull. She fought valiantly to regain her grip, but it was lost now, a matter of seconds before she was cast aside. She squeezed her thighs once more, afraid to embrace the climax, yet more afraid that she might lose its wonderful intensity.
It struck her, instantaneous and violent. The peak of her arousal filled her body, spreading like wildfire down her arms, her legs, her fingers and toes. She threw her head back, unable to control her motions, a puppet on the strings of her desires. Her body rocked, she screamed, falling forwards onto Kaitlyn.
Distantly, she was aware of Kaitlyn succumbing as well. The girl tensed against her, pulling her inwards, her skin slippery and wet as it pressed against Nikki’s. A fleeting thought rose through the maelstrom to flash into her mind: Did I win?
The monstrous cacophony between her legs ceased. She collapsed into Kaitlyn’s arms, her body limp with exertion. She rested her head on her shoulder, breathing deeply and drinking in the scent of the other girl’s soft hair and sweat.
Mistress finally spoke, “Let’s call it a draw!”
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Ms. Klein allowed the girls a time to recover. She rose and left the room, leaving her maids to gather themselves before the main course. Nikki forced her body into action, pulling herself up off the device, shuddering at the emptiness that its absence caused. Kaitlyn was doing the same, her hair was wild and unruly, sticking to her damp forehead and cheeks in curled locks. Nikki thought she looked wonderful, glowing with fulfillment and satisfaction. She longed to touch her body, to taste her.
They placed the devices to one side and fussed over themselves for ten minutes. They straightened their stockings, recovered shoes that were tossed aside in their orgasmic thrashings and wiped away smudged lipstick. Nikki helped Kaitlyn fix her hair, pulling it back into a loose ponytail. Kaitlyn did the same for her.
Satisfied that they were ready for their mistress, the two girls returned to the rug and knelt there.
Half an hour passed and Ms. Klein finally returned. She was naked now, her toned body lithe and graceful as she confidently stepped back into the room. Her dark hair was down around her shoulders, not held up in her usual serious bun. She looked quite beautiful Nikki thought, delicate and demure, not stern and businesslike as she typically would be during their sessions. Nikki eyed her hungrily, she longed to worship this elegant woman, longed to taste her, to touch her perfect skin.
The mistress approached her maids, crouching before them and stroking their cheeks. Her eyes were filled with love and burned with desire. Her behaviour was very different from normal, Nikki noticed, yet lost the thought in the tender gaze of her owner. Leaning forward, Ms. Klein kissed each girl in turn. The kiss was neither rough nor probing, it didn’t demand anything. Their lips touched for the briefest of moments. Nikki’s heart melted. She felt such devotion to this strange woman, such a strong feeling of wanting her and needing to be wanted in return.
Ms. Klein turned and walked to the corner sofa. She sat with her back against the cushions in the corner of the L, pulling her legs up and spreading them open. Her pussy was smooth, like those of her maids, the damp flesh glistened in the low lighting. She parted her lips with her fingers, playfully caressing her clit, never taking her eyes off the kneeling girls.
She beckoned them forwards, seductive eyes signalling her intent. They crawled across the room, hypnotised by her stare. Kaitlyn took the mistress’ foot in her hand and lowered her mouth to the soft skin. With glacial precision she kissed the soft curve of her arch, drew her tongue across the tips of her toes. Her mouth moved to her ankle and began its slow ascent up the smooth leg.
Nikki was more bold. She reached the sofa and pulled herself onto the cushion beside Ms. Klein’s exposed body. She leaned forwards, never breaking eye contact with her owner. Their mouths met in a tender kiss, soft and fleeting as before. She closed her eyes, and let her lust guide her, feeling her way across Ms. Klein’s lips with her tongue, gauging her responses. Nikki’s hand brushed across the older woman’s perky breasts, felt the aching hardness of her nipples on her finger tips. She settled there for a while, playfully rolling the hard nub between her thumb and forefinger. Her kisses were harder now, provoking a response from Ms. Klein. She moaned beneath her, body arching into the soft sofa.
Nikki felt Ms. Klein gasp suddenly. Glancing behind her, she saw that Kaitlyn had reached her destination. The new maid had lifted Ms. Klein’s legs onto her shoulders and buried her face deep into her pussy. As she watched, Kaitlyn glanced upwards, her quizzical eyes demanding confirmation, reassurance from her teacher and mistress that her actions were appropriate. Nikki nodded and smiled, and turned back to continue her kiss.
Ms. Klein writhed now, bending her legs and draggin
g her bare heels up Kaitlyn’s back. Her tongue greedily probed Nikki’s mouth, lapping at her lips and face. Nikki responded by squeezing her breasts, massaging the small tits in her firm grasp. With her other hand, she gripped Ms. Klein’s head, locking their mouths together. Nikki had never been this forceful and controlling with her mistress before, never manipulated and restrained her this way. The thought thrilled her. Her time dominating Kaitlyn had introduced her to different side of herself, a side that craved to possess rather than be possessed. Her free hand fell to her own pussy, felt the familiar warmth of her wet lips. It set to work, rubbing and pressing her swollen clit, ripples of pleasure coursing through her body, heightening already aroused senses.
Through the hazy fog of her lustful trance she heard Kaitlyn’s moans mixing with Ms. Klein’s and her own. Dirty minx, she thought from somewhere else.
She suddenly felt Ms. Klein’s tongue harden. Her body tensed and her arms grabbed at Nikki. From below, Kaitlyn gasped as Ms. Klein’s thighs held her head tightly, pulling her deeper into her warmth. The energy of Ms. Klein’s orgasm surged through all three of them, spilling out of her mouth, her pussy, from the very pores of her skin. Nikki felt it as a distant tremor, building in strength and filling her body with frantic energy. She wailed, never wanting the moment to end, never wanting Ms. Klein to let her go, and then her mind shattered into a billion pieces as the orgasm broke over her.
“Oh. My God!” she wailed, head thrashing back and forth at the unrelenting intensity. The heat in her body. The warm flesh beneath her. The thrill of submission and the power of dominance. She was lost to it all, drowning in a bottomless ocean, never wanting to surface, never wanting respite.
Epilogue
It was late and Nikki was unable to sleep. She lay alongside Kaitlyn in the maid’s bed, snug against her back as the other girl dozed. Nikki pulled her close, her arm wrapping around her body and cupping her naked breast. She sighed, craving sleep yet unable to quiet her fitful mind.
For the last few weeks, since Kaitlyn’s probation ended, Nikki’s thoughts had been alive with unfamiliar thoughts. As the training period ended, she’d slipped back into her role as maid easily, welcoming the return to servitude and obedience. She and Kaitlyn worked well together, their electric sexual chemistry bringing the mistress to heights of rapture on an almost daily basis. Yet Nikki found herself wanting more.
She dutifully followed Ms. Klein’s directions during their sessions, but found herself eyeing Kaitlyn with covetous eyes. She fantasised about what it would be like to own her, to take her and possess every aspect of her being. What it would be like to direct her for her own pleasure, having the girl act out her every sordid whim?
She knew that this was wrong. She was a submissive. Her nature was to submit, not to dominate. If Ms. Klein knew that she was having these thoughts, then she would surely punish her, or cast her out completely. Yet it was Ms. Klein herself who had set this compulsion in motion. In giving her the month with Kaitlyn, giving her the taste of such power, she had ignited something within her.
The seed had taken root in her mind, germinating in the heat of their passion and flowering uncontrollably until its wispy tendrils crawled across every thought, every waking moment tinged by this lustful urge for control.
She cast it aside, pushed it deep within her. She pulled Kaitlyn closer in the bed, concentrating only on the clean smell of her hair or the soft beating of her heart. She willed herself into sleep.
Yet still the thought remained. Slowly, unstoppably, she formulated a plan.
THE END
Seduced By Her Feet
by Ella Ford
Prologue
Samantha and I are sitting on the comfortable old sofa in my apartment. The TV is on and we’re working our way through a DVD boxset of Sex and the City. I don’t like the show personally, but Samantha thinks it’s highly amusing and insists we watch it together. It doesn’t bother me too much, my mind is elsewhere.
I glance over at Samantha. She’s sitting back against the end of the sofa, her legs are sprawled over me with her feet resting in my lap. She’s wearing a simple black t-shirt that clings to her figure, hugging her chest in a most pleasing way, and a short tartan skirt that barely covers her thighs. Her honey blonde hair is down, and she’s lazily sipping from a glass of wine. She glances at me with a look of relaxed contentment and I smile back at her, thinking how amazing she looks like this.
My attention is drawn to her legs, as it so often is. They’re long and slim, and tonight she is wearing opaque black pantyhose. I draw my hand slowly up her leg to her knee and she shivers involuntarily. I glance at her again and she smiles back, urging me to continue.
I reverse my touch and my hand finds its way to her feet. I gaze at them and she wiggles her toes in the way that she knows I can’t resist. She must be feeling horny tonight, I realise and shudder at the prospect of feeling her tongue on my pussy.
I reach out and take one of her feet in my hands, pressing my thumb into the soft flesh of her sole and kneading it gently. She sighs at my touch and sinks deeper into the sofa, putty in my hands.
I study her foot, the soft curve of her arch, the faint hint of her painted nails through the material of her pantyhose. I wonder what it is that I find so compelling about it, why I feel a sudden warmth deep inside myself as I touch it and feel it touch me. What has awakened these insatiable feelings inside me?
I think back, to the first time I met Samantha. A normal day in a normal week; a trip downtown and a chance encounter. My mind drifts away...
Chapter 1
The very last thing I expected when I went into the coffee shop that morning was to get seduced by a woman. And, I swear to you, the very idea of being driven into a frenzy by a pair of female feet was not even an entry in my book of possibilities!
I’m not a lesbian, I’ve always considered myself comfortably straight. I wouldn’t even say I was bi, though I hear it’s very fashionable these days. I mean, I’d thought about other women in that way on more than one occasion, who hasn’t? But only in a theoretical capacity. I’d never considered actually doing anything about it. In truth, my life was complicated enough trying to find a sympathetic cock to fill the long dark nights. The last thing I needed was to figure out a whole different set of genitalia!
And feet. Oh boy. I don’t even know where to begin with this one. If women were the furthest thing from my mind that day, then feet weren’t even on the map! Feet are just things at the end of your legs that you stand on all day, then moan about how much they hurt. Right? They’re not sex things, they’re walking things. I mean, I’m not completely sheltered. I was aware that foot fetishes were a thing. If you date in the modern world I don’t think you can avoid it. Sometimes it seemed like every third guy that I got to go home with me wanted me to keep my heels on in bed, or was suspiciously eager to give me a foot massage. I never really thought about it, it just seemed like guys, you know? I certainly never thought about feet that way myself… at least, until I met Samantha.
Wait, wait, I’m getting ahead of myself. Let me back up a little and tell you a bit about me, the charming narrator of this sordid tale. My name is Sarah Fisher. Okay, that’s not my real name, but it’ll do for now. What I’m about to tell you is not the kind of thing I want following me around for the rest of my life. What is true is that I’m twenty four, live in New York and I’m a moderately successful copy editor for a small pop culture magazine downtown.
In certain conversations, I have been described as “mousey”. I’m not sure whether that’s a compliment or not. Whatever. Anyway, I don’t mind staying under the radar in the looks department. It just means that when I let my hair down and wear contacts instead of my nerdy glasses for the office Christmas party, I get told that I “scrub up well”. You take what you can get, right? I guess Sandra Bullock would play me in the movie version of this story… Oh boy, what I wouldn’t give to see Sandra Bullock doing the kind of things that happened to me…
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I digress.
So, I’m twenty four, five seven, nice tits and unruly brown hair that has been my curse since I was thirteen. I guess I should mention that I have good legs and take care of my feet, though I was never sure why I bothered. As luck would have it, on that particular day I had a day old pedicure on my toes and the skin of my shins still burned from the waxing that the Groupon offer had included. I’m telling you this to stay in genre, you guys appreciate that right? Sexy foot fetish scene setting.
I wish I could tell you that I cut quite the pornstar figure for my steamy encounter at the coffee shop, but in reality it was my day off work and I was on my way downtown to collect some dry cleaning. My hair was pulled back in a slouchy ponytail, the result of about, oh, fifteen seconds of effort an hour before. I hadn’t bothered with makeup and the seductive outfit I chose to wear that day was my favourite pair of skinny jeans and a tight black t-shirt that hugged my breasts and informed anyone who wanted to know that I was a fan of Nickelback. Hey, no shame right?
I was not exactly the sultry, sapphic seductress that you might expect. To this day, I have no idea what it was that attracted Samantha to me.
Enough scene setting.
On my way to the dry cleaner, I decided to stop off at Paolo’s, a tiny coffee shop off 34th that hadn’t yet succumbed to the relentless encroachment of Big Coffee and had somehow stayed off the radar of hipster culture. It was just a normal place, you know? Good coffee, friendly staff, no bullshit. I found myself dropping in for an hour of quiet contemplation a few times a week, ordering my usual skinny latte and sinking into one of the battered old chairs in the corner to watch the world go by. I guess next time I go in I’ll take my laptop and work on my book, The Great American Foot Fetish Novel. Ha-ha, right?