gusset
10-08-2002, 1:54 PM
Hi folks
Thought I would re-post this for you, went down ok on daddostrample, hope its of interest to you's on here.
I met my current girlfriend, when we worked together, this was on shiftwork in an office environment. We were both uniformed staff working for a security firm. Long before we got together, which was 3.5 years ago, I spent many a long hour fantasising over her. We were on the same shift pattern, so spent many night shifts together, there was usually 3 staff on night coverage, although often just two. She always used to take her shoes off and put her feet up on another chair whilst reading a book when things were quiet in the early hours. I tried reading, sleeping or surfing the Internet, but my concentration was always drawn to her beautiful feet clad in hose. Often I would have to slide my chair forward so that my lap was under the desk, so as to hide the hard-on that I would always get. I fantasised about being on my knees under her desk and massaging her feet whilst she read her books. She doesn’t have long models legs, but I think they are so shapely and her feet are small, size 4 (UK). We eventually hit it off, I never dared hope that we would, and to think of any of my fantasies ever coming true was unthinkable. One of the many things that drew me to her was that she was quite assertive in herself, not that I mean she was dominating, but she is a qualified teacher, and I suppose that the assertiveness that comes with that appealed to me also. I realised that she was the person who I would love to submit to and to spend the rest of my life with.
Over the next few months, I think that she did start to realise that I did have a certain attraction to her feet. But I denied it, saying that I loved every part of her and was equally obsessed by every part of her body – I never had the courage to admit my fascination to her. It wasn’t until I read a book ‘A Different Kind of Loving’, that I became brave enough to tell her. It was an extract in this book, where a professional dom’ said about a guy had kept his fetish bottled up in himself for most of his life, and the only harm that it had ever done was to himself by repressing it. She said quite a lot more about it, and it set me to thinking about it. I was scared of losing my partner and would have been quite happy to continue in a normal vanilla relationship, but I did decide to take the bull by the horns and tell her what I thought. Fortunately, everything worked out fine, she was not scared away thinking I was some weird pervert, and although – so she says, it wasn’t something she had ever thought about, it was something that she might be willing to experiment with.
We have progressed over the last three years, albeit at a leisurely pace, I still fear of pushing it too much and scaring her away. Forever paranoid I suppose. Although the greater percentages of ideas arise from my imagination, she does surprise me sometimes. The first was our second Christmas together when she bought me a pair of women’s panties to wear under my trousers when we went out, although she does say that transvestism isn’t something that she wants to deal with, and I’m fine about that, as it’s not for me anyway. Another time when we had gone to a large pet supermarket, to buy a dog collar and leash, her choice of colour and style for me to wear, on picking the one out she wanted, asking me if I should try it on. It was said half jokingly, but I do wish I had gone for it, the humiliation would have been so devine, but unfortunately I bottled it.
Sorry, I was losing the thread there. In the main our sex life revolves around me worshipping her legs (naked, in stockings or in hose) and especially worshipping her feet, whether bare or in shoes. Most of this worship is done in our sitting room, with her sat on the sofa and me in my place on the floor at her feet. My favourite is when I have to lie naked on my stomach, hands clasped behind my back, and my face is six inches from her feet. She will have me lying there like that, sometimes for hours whilst she watches T.V., catching up on her soaps. Every now and then she talks down to me and asks me things like ‘How beautiful are my feet?’ or ‘Tell me why you adore them so much’, and maybe if I am lucky, ‘Tell me why you think I should let you beg to kiss them’. I have come several times with just her talking to me like this, making me abase myself at her feet. I polish all of her shoes, including her everyday working shoes, once a week. This I have to do naked of course, I do this on a sheet of newspaper in the dining room, where she can just look through to keep an eye on me whilst watching the T.V.. Often of course, several pairs are not done to her satisfaction and I am ordered to do those ones again to meet her standards. I love doing this, as I am always rewarded for my efforts. Normally my reward takes the following line. I am bidden to kneel before her and lay my head in her lap, she then strokes my head, I have close cropped hair so it is like stroking velvet. She says "Good boy, you are a good boy," and then pats my head like a dog. Already I am leaking pre-cum and breathing heavy – almost panting. Often she will touch my balls with her foot, pushing them down, stretching the sack, or lightly kicking them. But the best, if I’ve been really good, is that I am allowed to rub myself against her leg and debase myself at her feet, whilst she calls me Rover or doggie. She laughs at me whilst I hump her leg, looking down at me telling me how pathetic I am.
Of course I am, but only for her, only for Miss S, my Goddess. She talks to me and laughs all the way through until I come all over her leg. Watching me, she waits while my come dribbles down her shin and over her foot, then condescendingly tells me to lick it clean
Thought I would re-post this for you, went down ok on daddostrample, hope its of interest to you's on here.
I met my current girlfriend, when we worked together, this was on shiftwork in an office environment. We were both uniformed staff working for a security firm. Long before we got together, which was 3.5 years ago, I spent many a long hour fantasising over her. We were on the same shift pattern, so spent many night shifts together, there was usually 3 staff on night coverage, although often just two. She always used to take her shoes off and put her feet up on another chair whilst reading a book when things were quiet in the early hours. I tried reading, sleeping or surfing the Internet, but my concentration was always drawn to her beautiful feet clad in hose. Often I would have to slide my chair forward so that my lap was under the desk, so as to hide the hard-on that I would always get. I fantasised about being on my knees under her desk and massaging her feet whilst she read her books. She doesn’t have long models legs, but I think they are so shapely and her feet are small, size 4 (UK). We eventually hit it off, I never dared hope that we would, and to think of any of my fantasies ever coming true was unthinkable. One of the many things that drew me to her was that she was quite assertive in herself, not that I mean she was dominating, but she is a qualified teacher, and I suppose that the assertiveness that comes with that appealed to me also. I realised that she was the person who I would love to submit to and to spend the rest of my life with.
Over the next few months, I think that she did start to realise that I did have a certain attraction to her feet. But I denied it, saying that I loved every part of her and was equally obsessed by every part of her body – I never had the courage to admit my fascination to her. It wasn’t until I read a book ‘A Different Kind of Loving’, that I became brave enough to tell her. It was an extract in this book, where a professional dom’ said about a guy had kept his fetish bottled up in himself for most of his life, and the only harm that it had ever done was to himself by repressing it. She said quite a lot more about it, and it set me to thinking about it. I was scared of losing my partner and would have been quite happy to continue in a normal vanilla relationship, but I did decide to take the bull by the horns and tell her what I thought. Fortunately, everything worked out fine, she was not scared away thinking I was some weird pervert, and although – so she says, it wasn’t something she had ever thought about, it was something that she might be willing to experiment with.
We have progressed over the last three years, albeit at a leisurely pace, I still fear of pushing it too much and scaring her away. Forever paranoid I suppose. Although the greater percentages of ideas arise from my imagination, she does surprise me sometimes. The first was our second Christmas together when she bought me a pair of women’s panties to wear under my trousers when we went out, although she does say that transvestism isn’t something that she wants to deal with, and I’m fine about that, as it’s not for me anyway. Another time when we had gone to a large pet supermarket, to buy a dog collar and leash, her choice of colour and style for me to wear, on picking the one out she wanted, asking me if I should try it on. It was said half jokingly, but I do wish I had gone for it, the humiliation would have been so devine, but unfortunately I bottled it.
Sorry, I was losing the thread there. In the main our sex life revolves around me worshipping her legs (naked, in stockings or in hose) and especially worshipping her feet, whether bare or in shoes. Most of this worship is done in our sitting room, with her sat on the sofa and me in my place on the floor at her feet. My favourite is when I have to lie naked on my stomach, hands clasped behind my back, and my face is six inches from her feet. She will have me lying there like that, sometimes for hours whilst she watches T.V., catching up on her soaps. Every now and then she talks down to me and asks me things like ‘How beautiful are my feet?’ or ‘Tell me why you adore them so much’, and maybe if I am lucky, ‘Tell me why you think I should let you beg to kiss them’. I have come several times with just her talking to me like this, making me abase myself at her feet. I polish all of her shoes, including her everyday working shoes, once a week. This I have to do naked of course, I do this on a sheet of newspaper in the dining room, where she can just look through to keep an eye on me whilst watching the T.V.. Often of course, several pairs are not done to her satisfaction and I am ordered to do those ones again to meet her standards. I love doing this, as I am always rewarded for my efforts. Normally my reward takes the following line. I am bidden to kneel before her and lay my head in her lap, she then strokes my head, I have close cropped hair so it is like stroking velvet. She says "Good boy, you are a good boy," and then pats my head like a dog. Already I am leaking pre-cum and breathing heavy – almost panting. Often she will touch my balls with her foot, pushing them down, stretching the sack, or lightly kicking them. But the best, if I’ve been really good, is that I am allowed to rub myself against her leg and debase myself at her feet, whilst she calls me Rover or doggie. She laughs at me whilst I hump her leg, looking down at me telling me how pathetic I am.
Of course I am, but only for her, only for Miss S, my Goddess. She talks to me and laughs all the way through until I come all over her leg. Watching me, she waits while my come dribbles down her shin and over her foot, then condescendingly tells me to lick it clean