by Ella Ford
“Click here to see Kimmy and her new maid Candy explore each other’s feet for the first time! Free sample!”
I took a deep breath and caught myself as my hand hovered the mouse pointer over the thumbnail. I blinked, realizing suddenly that I was going to instinctively click the inviting image. Was I really going to do this? What did it mean? Where was I headed?
For the briefest moment, I took control of myself. Taking another deep breath, I moved the mouse to the back button, intending to put an end to this weird nonsense once and for all and get back to the problem of fixing my boiler. But then an image flashed across my mind. It was Abby’s face, eyes glazed over as she peered across the diner at the business woman and her pantyhosed feet. That look of total desire, drunk with lust and lost in a world that I couldn’t yet imagine. I wondered what she was thinking, what sordid acts she was playing through in her mind. Acts probably not dissimilar from the images in this email?
I realized that my heart was hammering in my chest and my face was flushed. Without thinking, I flicked the mouse back to the video thumbnail and clicked on the link.
A new window opened up and my life changed forever...
Chapter 2
The website loaded up and I was immediately assaulted by the same powder pink overload as the spam email. The bubbly banner at the top of the page welcomed me to “Kimmy’s Foot Palace” with a logo that was overlaid on top of a picture of a woman’s leg. The rest of the page was given over to an incongruous disclaimer, notifying me that I should not, under any circumstances, continue if I was under 18 or I was easily offended. I blinked and considered backing out, clicking the “Exit” button and putting this whole dumb idea to rest. But once again my horny hand betrayed me and I clicked the “Enter” button to venture onwards.
Finally, I ended up on the promised video page. To my surprise, it began playing automatically and I realized that my laptop’s sound was turned up high. The room came alive with the jaunty jingle of Kimmy’s theme music, a curious ditty that was shot through with the sound of a woman’s cries of sexual pleasure! Despite being alone in the house, I blushed furiously and glanced around, scrambling for the volume control to bring the sound down to a more comfortable level.
My heart was beating quickly now, and I was filled with the feeling that I was embarking on some forbidden path. Would this page be forever in my internet history? What happens if someone caught me? How would I explain such an outlandish visit?
Before I lost my nerve, the theme music faded and the video transitioned to a wide shot of an extravagant living room. Slowly, clumsily, the picture panned across the room and focussed on a long, white leather couch in the middle of the light space. Sitting on the couch was a young, blonde girl. She appeared to be younger than me, perhaps nineteen or twenty, and was idly inspecting her long, painted nails and reclining on the sofa. The girl - Kimmy I assumed - was wearing a tight, white mini dress that was pulled taut across her modest breasts and high on her thighs. Her long legs were crossed in front of her and I found myself unsurprised to notice that she was wearing tan pantyhose. On her feet, one of which she was idly twirling in the air before her, she wore strappy, silver sandals that were delicate and refined with a precarious heel that looked like an accident waiting to happen! Distantly, I realized that I was silently judging her for wearing pantyhose with open toed shoes, a fashion faux pa to be sure, yet I couldn’t deny that there was something compelling about the look. In fact, her entire outfit was entirely unsubtle, designed to draw attention to the girl’s legs and breasts. I shook my head and reminded myself that I was watching porn, not a high-brow indie flick!
The girl looked up from her nails and smiled warmly at the camera. Her heavily made-up face was framed perfectly by a neat, blonde bob and her red lips glistened in the light of the room.
“Welcome to my site!” she purred, fluttering her eyelashes provocatively. She had a trace of an accent that I couldn’t quite place. Eastern European perhaps, though it was difficult to tell. “Today, I have a very special treat for you,” she continued, “I’ve just hired a new maid, Candy. She’s new to America and barely speaks a word of English. She’s very hot!” Kimmy lowered her head and nibbled on her slender index finger as she described Candy, dancing a well choreographed routine of seduction that was designed to entice and thrill.
I shifted in my seat, realizing that her hypnotic words were having an effect on me. I found myself unable to look away from the girl as she spoke, unable to take my eyes off her red lips and her long, long legs. Sheepishly, I double clicked on the video and made it full screen. It was not a conscious movement, more an instinctive act driven by a primal longing that I was happy to be led by.
Kimmy continued. “Candy thinks that she will be cleaning my house and cooking my meals, but I have other duties I require of her. I wonder how she’ll do?” she smiled, then leaned over to the small table to her side and picked up a small silver bell. Then with a cheeky grin, she raised the bell and rang it two times.
From off camera, I heard the quick click of heels on a wooden floor and the picture panned to the left slightly. Candy tottered into view and I gasped in surprise. I’m no prude, and I’ve watched porn before, but I wasn’t quite prepared for the overwhelmingly sexualized appearance of Kimmy’s new maid! The pretty brunette was dressed for sex, no doubt. She wore a skimpy, black satin maid dress that pushed her ample breasts upwards and exploded in a cloud of lace petticoats around her waist, not even attempting to cover her modesty. Her long, toned legs were covered with black nylon thigh high stockings with a lace trim and she wore shiny black high-heeled pumps on her feet that must have been six inches tall. As she stepped across the frame of the picture, I glanced down and noticed the twin swells of her ass cheeks, poking out from under the frilly costume. I squinted to be sure, and confirmed that the girl was wearing no panties!
Honestly, my naive mind thought, how did Candy think that this was a normal job?
The girl stopped in front of Kimmy and crossed her hands behind her back, pushing her breasts forwards enticingly. “Yes mistress,” she purred with a thick accent, “what may I do for you?”
Kimmy studied her as she nibbled idly on her index finger. There was a hungry intensity on her pretty face as she looked the girl up and down. Her eyes traced the long length of Candy’s legs and lingered on her feet, before snapping up the maid’s face.
“Thank you Candy. Today, I have a very special job for you, one that I hope you will enjoy.”
Candy nodded and a look of eager expectation crossed her face. She appeared to be genuinely into this whole contrived fantasy.
“I’ve had a very hard day,” continued Kimmy, her voice thick with a childish tone designed to sound seductive. “My feet are very tired in these uncomfortable heels,” she said. “Would you be a darling and give me a foot massage?”
Candy glanced down at Kimmy’s dainty feet and a smile crossed her lips. “Of course mistress, I will do whatever you want me to,” she said demurely, then lowered herself down to her knees before her mistress.
I realized that I was breathing heavily and gently nibbling on my own index finger, a perfect mirror of Kimmy. Never once taking my eyes off the screen, I set the laptop down on the sofa beside me and leaned back into the corner of the seat, drawing my right leg up.
On the video, Candy shuffled forwards until she was kneeling beside Kimmy’s feet. She glanced up at her mistress and fluttered her eyelashes, then Kimmy raised her crossed leg and pointed her foot directly at the maid’s face. The camera angle changed to a close-up of Candy and her mistress’s lower leg, revealing a look of rapt attention on the young brunette’s face as she gazed at Kimmy’s foot. Then she raised her hands and began to unfasten the fiddly buckle of the strappy sandal.
As the girl worked, I felt a sudden moment of vertigo, a wave of dizziness that swept over me and filled my mind. What was I doing? I’ve never been interested in women before, let alone feet, of all things! Yet here I wa
s, utterly entranced by this cynical erotica. I couldn’t look away, yet something inside me cried out that this was wrong, that this wasn’t my world. But that voice was distant and fading, replaced by a gnawing hunger and a mounting curiosity that was blossoming within me and impossible to ignore.
On the video, Candy finally managed to unfasten the tiny strap and began to ease the shoe off Kimmy’s foot. This simple act was drawn out purposefully as she slid the flimsy heel over the stockinged toes, and I found myself hypnotized by something so mundane. I wondered what it felt like - what it felt like to be Candy, holding that perfect foot in her hands, eager to touch it, to taste it; or what if felt like to be Kimmy, her maid kneeling at her feet, eager to please her, warm hands holding her foot and greedy eyes longing to give pleasure.
Without thinking, I shifted on the sofa and spread my legs slightly, pulling my skirt up around my waist. Then I began to lightly caress my thighs, stroking my fingers across my soft skin, up to the hot, throbbing place between my legs.
With her shoe removed, Candy held her mistress’s foot higher and gazed longingly at her toes and sole. Kimmy, for her part, wiggled her toes, stretching at the thin nylon that covered her foot. Candy gasped and smiled appreciatively, and Kimmy giggled. “Do you like that? Do you want to taste my toes?” she purred from off-camera.
“Oh yes, yes mistress,” replied Candy breathlessly. She was breathing heavily now, and had taken the foot in her hands. With tender motions, she began to stroke back and forth with her fingers, lightly kneading Kimmy’s sole with her thumb. Her painted lips were parted and her eyes were glazed over with a look that I recognized from Abby’s confessional - a look of hunger and desire, alive with a need that was fresh and new to me, but tangible and real. It was a look that conveyed a feeling that had found its way into my head, into my consciousness.
My mind raced with these new thoughts and desires. I closed my eyes briefly and imagined myself in Kimmy’s place, gazing down my endless leg at the erotic beauty at my feet. I envisioned what her hands would feel like, warm and soft, yet insistent and bold. I tried to capture that feeling of anticipation, of knowing what I wanted the girl to do, yet wanting to draw out the moment of perfect anticipation for as long as I could.
I opened my eyes to find that the video had cut back to Kimmy. The pretty blonde had sunk back into the couch and was sucking hard on her finger. The camera then panned down her body to her waist and zoomed in. Kimmy had drawn her dress up around her hips and spread her legs. Her hand was pushed under the waistband of her pantyhose and her fingers were working in light circles on her pussy.
I gasped and felt my heart skip a beat. I’d never seen another woman masturbate before. I found myself thrilled by how good it looked and how much the sight of her pussy beneath the thin material of her pantyhose excited me. It was like nothing I’d ever experienced and only served to amplify the peculiar desires that I was already feeling. Oh god, why had I never felt this before? My mind marvelled at the new discovery and lamented the wasted time, and I realized that I’d moved my hand up to my own pussy and pushed aside my damp panties.
With practiced skill, I began to draw my fingers through my labia. I gasped with shock as I found myself slick and wet and hot with lust. With trembling fingertips, I found my throbbing clitoris and began to move my hand in time with Kimmy’s, our matched motions somehow locking us in an intangible dance of sexual need.
The camera cut back to Candy, still massaging her mistress’s sole. She’d switched to the other foot now and was lightly tugging at Kimmy’s toes. Suddenly, she lowered the foot down several inches and leaned forwards, holding her mouth a fraction of an inch from Kimmy and peering at the blonde over her toes. “Mistress,” she purred, “may I use my mouth?”
The camera cut to Kimmy’s face and a hungry smile spread across her mouth. “You may,” she replied, her voice barely a whisper.
With the focus back on Candy, the young brunette paused for an infuriatingly long time, gazing at Kimmy’s flexing toes. I held my breath, knowing what I wanted to see, knowing what I wanted to experience, urging her forwards with a will that I could barely recognize. Then it happened. Candy leaned forwards and wrapped her glistening lips around Kimmy’s toes. She closed her eyes and breathed in heavily through her nose. There was a moan from off camera, a long cry of sexual pleasure, as Kimmy enjoyed her maid’s attentions.
Candy pulled back and lifted Kimmy’s foot higher, then slowly drew her tongue along the length of Kimmy’s sole.
Kimmy’s moans became louder and more urgent, and I became aware of another voice joining her, moaning in unison, a lustful harmony of sexual desire. I realized that the second voice was mine, an involuntary response to the intoxicating feelings that were washing over me.
My hand was moving faster now, gripping my slick labia and pressing down on my swollen clit with an intense rhythm. My breaths were short, sharp pants and my free hand was roaming freely over my body - caressing my stomach, massaging my tender breasts. I felt lost and adrift now, entranced by the scene unfolding before me, hypnotized by Candy as she sucked frantically on her mistress’s perfect toes.
The chorus of moans grew louder, both Kimmy’s and my own, as we both reached a pinnacle of sexual abandon. At Kimmy’s feet, Candy seemed lost in her own world of pleasure. The nubile young brunette had taken hold of both heels and held them aloft with a single hand. With her other hand, she reached beneath her frilly maid dress and began to feverishly rub her own pussy. Then she leaned forwards and buried her face in the twin soles of Kimmy’s feet, breathing in heavily and rubbing the damp nylon on her cheeks, her nose, her hair.
The sight of this drove me crazy and I felt an unmistakable presence in my loins. An insistent fireball that demanded attention and slowly grew in size and intensity. I gasped as I felt my body pass a point of no return and quickened my hands, swirling my fingertips in tight spirals on my aching clitoris and roughly kneading my breasts. Faster and faster I moved, eyes locked on the two girls on the screen in front of me as they danced their peculiar dance. I longed to embrace the climax, but fought onward, holding at bay with will alone, keen to prolong this mounting intensity.
Suddenly, as I reached the peak of my fervor, Kimmy cried out. The camera cut to her face as she pushed her head back into the soft cushion, eyes squeezed tightly shut, mouth hanging open. The picture flicked back to Candy, her face still pushed into Kimmy’s soles. As I watched, Kimmy’s toes splayed, spreading apart and stretching the reinforced toes of her nylon pantyhose.
The sight of this seemed inexplicably arousing to me. Her painted nails, dimmed red jewels beneath an obscuring gauze; Candy’s slender fingers touching her mistress’s calves, her face buried between Kimmy’s toes, intoxicated by the sensual aroma that filled her nose and throat; and the endless cry of Kimmy’s orgasm. It was all so new, so forbidden, so utterly overwhelming.
At once, I lost control and the raging fireball slipped free of my grip. The orgasm exploded inside me and a wave of utter pleasure blossomed out from my pussy and set my body alight. I gave in to it, releasing myself into the galloping inferno. My muscles tensed and I thrashed about on the sofa, head pushed backwards, back arched. I screamed out, “Ah! Ah! Ah!” no longer caring if the neighbors heard me or if I was somehow caught in this compromising position. The orgasm rolled on, and I dug my fingers into the sofa cushion, a vain attempt to anchor myself in this reality, fearing I might lose myself entirely.
And then it ended, for both me and Kimmy. My body relaxed, and I panted heavily. My limbs tingled with the memory of the fire, and my arms fell limply by my side. On the laptop screen, Kimmy was deflating similarly, sinking back into the couch, her hand still trapped in her pantyhose, locked on her pussy.
The camera cut to Candy, now bending forwards to the floor, kissing her mistress’s feet with tender pecks. Lazily, she raised her head and looked up at Kimmy, her face a perfect portrait of feline contentment. Then she spoke, purring in that enticingly exo
tic accent. “Did I do good, mistress?” she pouted.
Kimmy pushed her eyes open and peered down at her maid. “Yes Candy, you did very good. Very good indeed.”
With that, I slammed the laptop lid down, suddenly overcome with a feeling of guilt and shame. I sat back on the couch and drew my trembling legs to my chest and wrapped my arms around my knees. Where the hell did that come from? I thought, my eyes flicking around the room nervously.
Then, slowly, insistently, another thought began to bubble to the surface of my mind. One that I couldn’t ignore but dared not face.
I want more!
Chapter 3
The following week passed by in a blur of revelation and exploration. I felt like a teenage boy who had stumbled on my father’s porn stash. So many new possibilities were open to me and I plunged my mind into this strange new world with reckless abandon.
When I was at home, I was usually glued to the laptop, digging into this new fetish and absorbing as much as I could. I read erotic fiction, trawled through countless photos and images, each one more bizarre and hedonistic than the last. I watched endless videos, some from Kimmy’s Foot Palace, some from further afield.
Like a master sculptor, I whittled my new desire down with expert skill, throwing away the aspects that I didn’t like, keeping those that I did. To my surprise, I found that I preferred female feet and lesbian porn over porn including men. And while I enjoyed barefoot scenes, I mostly looked for scenes where the girls wore hosiery - pantyhose, stockings, thick tights - and high heeled shoes.
I barely stopped to think about how strange all this was, how out of character compared to my usual reserved demeanor. My friends began to notice the change - more than one commented on how they hardly saw me that week, and when they did, I was distant and distracted. Was something wrong with me? Did I have something on my mind? Oh, if only they knew.