Having a fetish for Mistress’s perfectly formed feet – from the arches to the impeccably groomed nails – is not just understandable but encouraged.
Years of dance and gymnastics and an active lifestyle have instilled in Me an understanding of just how important My feet are, and how worthy they are of absolute devotion and ritualistic pampering. I know that good foot massage can be the very height of ecstasy.
That’s not to say that there is any one “right” way that we can indulge in our mutual foot appreciation. You might desire to be one of the downtrodden, trampled under My naked soles or skewered with the heels of one of My many favourite pairs of high heels (they’re all My favourites); or a dedicated foot slave, tongue-bathing My soles and arches, carefully cleaning around the cuticles and taking particular care to get the sweat from between My toes after a hard session at the gym.
You may be wandering how it would feel to run your hands over My stockinged legs, or the delicate scent of leather and sweat would tempt you. The thought of My warm pink soles pressed against your face while I watch another episode of David Attenborough or attend to My emails with no thought for your comfort as My footstool. The smile on My face as you work gently into the tender muscles around My toes and ankles, My toes spreading and wriggling in pleasure.