proudcloud
11-10-2005, 2:10 AM
The Slut
My girlfriend, Lynette, is a total slut and seemingly incapable of fidelity.
Throughout our relationship she has lied and cheated on me constantly, but
my dependence on being her foot slave has kept me coming back for more
mistreatment. She is the only woman I have ever met that not only indulged
my foot fetish desires and actually loved having her feet worshiped. I
relish the smell and taste of her sexy feet and happily lick them for as
long as she will allow me.
To give some background, I met Lynette three years ago at a party. She is 5'
2" tall, a sexy blonde with an amazing 36FFF-25-35 that figure men drool
over. I fell for her the moment I saw her, and we began dating. We were very
sexual at the outset of the relationship and communicated openly. When I
eventually confided in her that I have a foot fetish, she was thrilled.
Lynette revealed that one of her previous boyfriends had acted as her foot
slave, and she absolutely loved having her feet pampered. My licking her
feet and sucking her toes became part of our regular foreplay. Lynette
taught me how to give her pedicures and to massage her feet the way she
liked, too. She eventually took control of our sex life, insisting on
receiving cunnilingus more often than intercourse, and encouraging me to
masturbate while worshiping her size 6 ½ feet. This was only the beginning
my submission to her.
Being dominated and used as a foot slave by my girlfriend was a dream comes
true. I considered Lynette to be my soul mate, if you will pardon the pun,
and fell deeply in love with her. After dating for several months, I planned
to ask her to marry me.
Unfortunately, I did not know Lynette as well as I thought.
One Friday evening I telephoned Lynette and was surprised that she did not
answer. After calling her repeatedly and not getting an answer, I became
concerned that something was wrong. I drove over to her place and found that
she was not home. I obsessively called her over and over, but by two o'clock
in the morning she still did not answer. Eventually, I fell asleep in my
chair. When I awoke the next morning, I immediately called again and did not
get an answer. Fearing that something had happened to her, I called to see
if she had made it to work; if she was not at work I was going to file a
missing persons report.
I held my breath as the phone rang and was totally relieved when I heard
Lynette's voice on the other line. She apologized for making me worry,
explaining that she had stopped by a girl friend's place. They had a few too
many drinks and she had fallen asleep on her friend's sofa. We made plans to
get together that evening when she got off work.
It was my day off and I decided to stop by the local pub for a beer. In the
pub, not far from my apartment, was a guy named Larry who I had seen there a
few times before. Larry was brazenly bragging about how he had picked up and
fucked some girl he had met at a party. My attention peaked when Larry
described her as a "blonde with huge tits" and said she was "a great piece
of ass." He told everyone how much she loved giving head, and how she said
he was much bigger than her boyfriend. Larry and his friends were laughing
about what a cheap slut she was. I nearly burst into tears when he finally
mentioned her name as being Lynette.
I confronted Lynette that evening and she responded by shrugging her
shoulders, saying that she found him cute and just wanted to screw him. She
had no guilt whatsoever and could not seem to understand why I would be hurt
by her infidelity. It was obvious that my feelings meant absolutely nothing
to her, and she was willing to risk our loving relationship for the
gratification of a one-night stand with this other guy. We broke up that
night.
I was completely heartbroken that Lynette had cheated on me and could not
help feeling somehow inadequate as a lover, especially in view of what she
had told Larry about the size of my penis. In spite of the anguish she had
caused me, I often found myself dreaming of Lynette's lovely feet and
masturbating. Then I ran into her at the super market one day. She looked as
sexy as ever and was wearing flip flops. Lynette was wearing a toe ring, and
her toenails were painted bright red. I looked down at her sexy bare feet
several times as we made small talk. Her feet looked irresistible and my
penis began to stiffen in my pants. Lynette smiled knowingly. She told me
that her feet were tired and sweaty after a day of shopping. Then she
bluntly asked if I wanted to come home with her and give them a good
licking. Lynette's audacity was unbelievable, especially after the way she
had treated me. Swallowing my pride, I answered that I did. One thing led to
another and soon we were dating again.
It was wonderful to be back at her feet, and I fell in love with her even
more than before. Lynette took advantage of my docile adoration of her and
became more domineering than she had been in the past. She introduced me to
trampling and shoe worship, insisting that I lick her shoes spotlessly
clean, both inside and out. Lynette would occasionally agree to give me foot
jobs, but only if I promised to lick my semen from her feet afterwards.
Now, in addition to cunnilingus, she was demanding analingus, too. I was
willing to do anything to please her as a way of making up for my sexual
inferiority, and she knew it.
As much as I loved Lynette, I found it difficult to trust her. I was
secretly jealous whenever my girlfriend looked at or spoke with other men. I
found myself driving past her place whenever we were not together, just to
make sure she had not deceived me again. It was devastating when I finally
discovered her out all night.
The next day, I ungraciously asked Lynette where she had been. She was
amused by my jealousy and readily confessed that she had spent the night
with Tracy, one of her male co-workers. When I indignantly asked if the fuck
had been worth destroying our relationship, she spitefully acknowledged that
her co-worker is better endowed and a better lover than me. Lynette admitted
that she had been seeing him behind my back for a week or two. We broke up
again that night.
I had convinced myself that I was through with Lynette for good. I decided
it was best to go on with my life and visited a professional dominatrix to
vent my fetish desires. The domina had pretty feet, but I had to admit to
myself that the experience was just not the same as it has been with
Lynette. I felt that foot worship in a professional setting lacked intimacy;
the woman was hired to indulge my fetish desires. As in a traditional
relationship, there must be chemistry between the two people for foot
worship to be fulfilling. It cannot be faked or acted out. There was no
denying that I truly missed being Lynette's foot slave.
While sorting through some boxes, I found some photographs that I had taken
of Lynette's sexy bare feet. As I examined the pictures, memories of how I
had lovingly worshiped her feet caused my penis stiffen with excitement.
Deep down inside, I realized how much I loved being dominated and humiliated
by her. Her repeated unfaithfulness was a display of total domination on her
part. Nothing I can imagine could be more humiliating than my girlfriend
maliciously acknowledging that she had cheated on me with a man who was
better endowed and better lover than I. My humiliation became a source of
morbid arousal, and I shamelessly masturbated while staring at the photos.
Then, about six months after we had broken up, Lynette came back into my
life. She called me one day, sweetly telling me that she had been thinking
about me and wondered how I was doing. My ex-girlfriend apologized for
hurting me and sobbingly told me that she now realized how much she loved
me. I fell for her line like a sucker.
The conversation ended with Lynette asking if I would mind her paying me a
visit. I eagerly consented and, within thirty minutes of her arrival, she
had me groveling on the floor and passionately sucking her toes. It was just
like old times with me obediently tonguing her vagina and anus, and then
lapping up my semen after she had given me a foot job.
Lynette ended up spending the night with me. In the morning, Lynette
sheepishly revealed that the affair she had with her co-worker had resulted
in her being fired. Since we had already agreed to give the relationship
another try, I invited her to move in with me.
Things between Lynette and I were wonderful. I had forgiven her and strove
to show my devotion with submissive affection, catering to her every whim
and buying her gifts as often as I could. In addition, I was doing all the
housework and paying all the bills. As before, Lynette became increasing
dominant. Sometimes, as I went down on her, she would pee all over my face.
On other occasions, she would fart while my face was buried between the
cheeks of her well-rounded ass.
Finally, the inevitable happened. I got off work early one day and came home
to surprise Lynette. My heart sank when I saw my best friend's car parked in
the driveway. I was very quiet as I come through the door and crept slowly
towards the bedroom, both dreading and anticipating what I knew I would
find.
I could hear the bedsprings squeaking and knew it was really true. Lynette
had gone too far this time, and tears of grief rolled down my cheeks. I
peeked into the bedroom and there on the bed was my girlfriend and my best
friend. He was fucking Lynette with long, deep strokes, his taut buttocks
bobbing rhythmically. My girlfriend was alternately grunting and moaning,
her beautiful face filled with excitement. When she finally noticed me
standing in the doorway, Lynette smiled with smug satisfaction from beneath
my best friend as he continued to hump her. She discretely held a finger to
her lips, signaling me to remain quiet and not interrupt him.
"Fuck me, baby!" Lynette told my best friend as I stood there dumbfounded
and watched. "Give it too me hard and fast! We need to finish before the
wimp gets home!"
Then my best friend began pounding his hard cock into her in earnest.
Lynette wrapped her shapely legs around his waist as he thrust into her
deeper and harder and faster. The headboard of the bed was banging against
the wall. My girlfriend's fingernails dug into his broad back as she bucked
her hips upward to urge him on. Eyes shut and mouth agape, Lynette
concentrated on the orgasm that swelled within her. When it arrived, she
announced her gratification with a cry of ecstasy. My girlfriend made direct
eye contact with me and grinned, obviously pleased with the look of agony on
my face as my best friend climaxed and pumped a load of semen into her.
My best friend was completely shocked when he rolled off of Lynette and saw
me standing in the doorway. I was amazed by the size of his hard on when I
saw it at a glance. It must have been 8" long and was as thick as Lynette's
wrist. He reached for his clothes and dressed frantically. I just stood
there passively, sobbing with anguish. My most trusted friend had committed
the ultimate act of betrayal, and our life-long friendship was finished. For
some reason, I was not the least bit displeased with Lynette; in fact, I
found myself thrilled to be so severely humiliated and dishonored by her. My
best friend mumbled "sorry" as he brushed past me on the way out the door.
Lynette was amused by the incident and grinned triumphantly.
As my ex-friend pulled out of the driveway, Lynette sat up on the edge of
the bed. There was a confident smirk on her face as she snapped her fingers
and pointed to her feet. A wave of mixed emotions swept over me. I was
heartbroken that Lynette had cheated on me once again; however, I took a
morose pleasure in being so thoroughly degraded by her. With every ounce of
humility in my soul, I knelt before my slutty girlfriend and docilely kissed
her feet.
As I humbly pressed my adoring lips to Lynette's beautiful feet, she
cheerfully revealed that my best friend had secretly visited her everyday
that week while I was at work. My girlfriend had thoroughly enjoyed screwing
him in the knowledge that I would be devastated when learning of their
affair. My self esteem was completely crushed, and my shame was intolerable.
Lynette giggled in delight.
"From now on, you wimp, I'm going to fuck any man I want, anytime I want."
she told me. "You're totally under my control. You're my helpless, foot
licking slave."
I looked up at Lynette with amazement at her impudence, a tear running down
my face. I dejectedly nodded in agreement. From my position on the floor, I
could see my former best friend's semen oozing from Lynette's gaping labia,
and trickling down the crack of her perfect ass. My surrender to her was
unconditional.
"I want to hear you to beg," Lynette demanded. "Beg me to use you for a
foot slave and beg me to fuck lots of other men who have big, hard cocks!"
"Please, Lynette," I responded weakly, "I want to be your foot slave under
any conditions. Please," I gulped, "fuck all the men you want. I want you to
fuck lots of other men; I want you to fuck men who have big cocks. Please
use me as a foot slave and cheat on me whenever you want."
"Mmmm, yes, that's exactly what I plan to do," she told me happily.
Lynette then began to rub the moist, warm soles of her feet up and down my
face. I knew what she expected of me and I began to lick her feet, tasting
the perspiration that had been produced in her act of betrayal. My head
spinning and my heart was pounding. I sucked her pedicured toes as though I
was famished. I fervidly worshiped Lynette's feet, all the while relishing
my role as her foot slave and forfeiting any shred of dignity I had left. If
her intention was to break me, Lynette had succeeded beyond her wildest
dreams-- and her superior smile showed me that she knew it.
My girlfriend, Lynette, is a total slut and seemingly incapable of fidelity.
Throughout our relationship she has lied and cheated on me constantly, but
my dependence on being her foot slave has kept me coming back for more
mistreatment. She is the only woman I have ever met that not only indulged
my foot fetish desires and actually loved having her feet worshiped. I
relish the smell and taste of her sexy feet and happily lick them for as
long as she will allow me.
To give some background, I met Lynette three years ago at a party. She is 5'
2" tall, a sexy blonde with an amazing 36FFF-25-35 that figure men drool
over. I fell for her the moment I saw her, and we began dating. We were very
sexual at the outset of the relationship and communicated openly. When I
eventually confided in her that I have a foot fetish, she was thrilled.
Lynette revealed that one of her previous boyfriends had acted as her foot
slave, and she absolutely loved having her feet pampered. My licking her
feet and sucking her toes became part of our regular foreplay. Lynette
taught me how to give her pedicures and to massage her feet the way she
liked, too. She eventually took control of our sex life, insisting on
receiving cunnilingus more often than intercourse, and encouraging me to
masturbate while worshiping her size 6 ½ feet. This was only the beginning
my submission to her.
Being dominated and used as a foot slave by my girlfriend was a dream comes
true. I considered Lynette to be my soul mate, if you will pardon the pun,
and fell deeply in love with her. After dating for several months, I planned
to ask her to marry me.
Unfortunately, I did not know Lynette as well as I thought.
One Friday evening I telephoned Lynette and was surprised that she did not
answer. After calling her repeatedly and not getting an answer, I became
concerned that something was wrong. I drove over to her place and found that
she was not home. I obsessively called her over and over, but by two o'clock
in the morning she still did not answer. Eventually, I fell asleep in my
chair. When I awoke the next morning, I immediately called again and did not
get an answer. Fearing that something had happened to her, I called to see
if she had made it to work; if she was not at work I was going to file a
missing persons report.
I held my breath as the phone rang and was totally relieved when I heard
Lynette's voice on the other line. She apologized for making me worry,
explaining that she had stopped by a girl friend's place. They had a few too
many drinks and she had fallen asleep on her friend's sofa. We made plans to
get together that evening when she got off work.
It was my day off and I decided to stop by the local pub for a beer. In the
pub, not far from my apartment, was a guy named Larry who I had seen there a
few times before. Larry was brazenly bragging about how he had picked up and
fucked some girl he had met at a party. My attention peaked when Larry
described her as a "blonde with huge tits" and said she was "a great piece
of ass." He told everyone how much she loved giving head, and how she said
he was much bigger than her boyfriend. Larry and his friends were laughing
about what a cheap slut she was. I nearly burst into tears when he finally
mentioned her name as being Lynette.
I confronted Lynette that evening and she responded by shrugging her
shoulders, saying that she found him cute and just wanted to screw him. She
had no guilt whatsoever and could not seem to understand why I would be hurt
by her infidelity. It was obvious that my feelings meant absolutely nothing
to her, and she was willing to risk our loving relationship for the
gratification of a one-night stand with this other guy. We broke up that
night.
I was completely heartbroken that Lynette had cheated on me and could not
help feeling somehow inadequate as a lover, especially in view of what she
had told Larry about the size of my penis. In spite of the anguish she had
caused me, I often found myself dreaming of Lynette's lovely feet and
masturbating. Then I ran into her at the super market one day. She looked as
sexy as ever and was wearing flip flops. Lynette was wearing a toe ring, and
her toenails were painted bright red. I looked down at her sexy bare feet
several times as we made small talk. Her feet looked irresistible and my
penis began to stiffen in my pants. Lynette smiled knowingly. She told me
that her feet were tired and sweaty after a day of shopping. Then she
bluntly asked if I wanted to come home with her and give them a good
licking. Lynette's audacity was unbelievable, especially after the way she
had treated me. Swallowing my pride, I answered that I did. One thing led to
another and soon we were dating again.
It was wonderful to be back at her feet, and I fell in love with her even
more than before. Lynette took advantage of my docile adoration of her and
became more domineering than she had been in the past. She introduced me to
trampling and shoe worship, insisting that I lick her shoes spotlessly
clean, both inside and out. Lynette would occasionally agree to give me foot
jobs, but only if I promised to lick my semen from her feet afterwards.
Now, in addition to cunnilingus, she was demanding analingus, too. I was
willing to do anything to please her as a way of making up for my sexual
inferiority, and she knew it.
As much as I loved Lynette, I found it difficult to trust her. I was
secretly jealous whenever my girlfriend looked at or spoke with other men. I
found myself driving past her place whenever we were not together, just to
make sure she had not deceived me again. It was devastating when I finally
discovered her out all night.
The next day, I ungraciously asked Lynette where she had been. She was
amused by my jealousy and readily confessed that she had spent the night
with Tracy, one of her male co-workers. When I indignantly asked if the fuck
had been worth destroying our relationship, she spitefully acknowledged that
her co-worker is better endowed and a better lover than me. Lynette admitted
that she had been seeing him behind my back for a week or two. We broke up
again that night.
I had convinced myself that I was through with Lynette for good. I decided
it was best to go on with my life and visited a professional dominatrix to
vent my fetish desires. The domina had pretty feet, but I had to admit to
myself that the experience was just not the same as it has been with
Lynette. I felt that foot worship in a professional setting lacked intimacy;
the woman was hired to indulge my fetish desires. As in a traditional
relationship, there must be chemistry between the two people for foot
worship to be fulfilling. It cannot be faked or acted out. There was no
denying that I truly missed being Lynette's foot slave.
While sorting through some boxes, I found some photographs that I had taken
of Lynette's sexy bare feet. As I examined the pictures, memories of how I
had lovingly worshiped her feet caused my penis stiffen with excitement.
Deep down inside, I realized how much I loved being dominated and humiliated
by her. Her repeated unfaithfulness was a display of total domination on her
part. Nothing I can imagine could be more humiliating than my girlfriend
maliciously acknowledging that she had cheated on me with a man who was
better endowed and better lover than I. My humiliation became a source of
morbid arousal, and I shamelessly masturbated while staring at the photos.
Then, about six months after we had broken up, Lynette came back into my
life. She called me one day, sweetly telling me that she had been thinking
about me and wondered how I was doing. My ex-girlfriend apologized for
hurting me and sobbingly told me that she now realized how much she loved
me. I fell for her line like a sucker.
The conversation ended with Lynette asking if I would mind her paying me a
visit. I eagerly consented and, within thirty minutes of her arrival, she
had me groveling on the floor and passionately sucking her toes. It was just
like old times with me obediently tonguing her vagina and anus, and then
lapping up my semen after she had given me a foot job.
Lynette ended up spending the night with me. In the morning, Lynette
sheepishly revealed that the affair she had with her co-worker had resulted
in her being fired. Since we had already agreed to give the relationship
another try, I invited her to move in with me.
Things between Lynette and I were wonderful. I had forgiven her and strove
to show my devotion with submissive affection, catering to her every whim
and buying her gifts as often as I could. In addition, I was doing all the
housework and paying all the bills. As before, Lynette became increasing
dominant. Sometimes, as I went down on her, she would pee all over my face.
On other occasions, she would fart while my face was buried between the
cheeks of her well-rounded ass.
Finally, the inevitable happened. I got off work early one day and came home
to surprise Lynette. My heart sank when I saw my best friend's car parked in
the driveway. I was very quiet as I come through the door and crept slowly
towards the bedroom, both dreading and anticipating what I knew I would
find.
I could hear the bedsprings squeaking and knew it was really true. Lynette
had gone too far this time, and tears of grief rolled down my cheeks. I
peeked into the bedroom and there on the bed was my girlfriend and my best
friend. He was fucking Lynette with long, deep strokes, his taut buttocks
bobbing rhythmically. My girlfriend was alternately grunting and moaning,
her beautiful face filled with excitement. When she finally noticed me
standing in the doorway, Lynette smiled with smug satisfaction from beneath
my best friend as he continued to hump her. She discretely held a finger to
her lips, signaling me to remain quiet and not interrupt him.
"Fuck me, baby!" Lynette told my best friend as I stood there dumbfounded
and watched. "Give it too me hard and fast! We need to finish before the
wimp gets home!"
Then my best friend began pounding his hard cock into her in earnest.
Lynette wrapped her shapely legs around his waist as he thrust into her
deeper and harder and faster. The headboard of the bed was banging against
the wall. My girlfriend's fingernails dug into his broad back as she bucked
her hips upward to urge him on. Eyes shut and mouth agape, Lynette
concentrated on the orgasm that swelled within her. When it arrived, she
announced her gratification with a cry of ecstasy. My girlfriend made direct
eye contact with me and grinned, obviously pleased with the look of agony on
my face as my best friend climaxed and pumped a load of semen into her.
My best friend was completely shocked when he rolled off of Lynette and saw
me standing in the doorway. I was amazed by the size of his hard on when I
saw it at a glance. It must have been 8" long and was as thick as Lynette's
wrist. He reached for his clothes and dressed frantically. I just stood
there passively, sobbing with anguish. My most trusted friend had committed
the ultimate act of betrayal, and our life-long friendship was finished. For
some reason, I was not the least bit displeased with Lynette; in fact, I
found myself thrilled to be so severely humiliated and dishonored by her. My
best friend mumbled "sorry" as he brushed past me on the way out the door.
Lynette was amused by the incident and grinned triumphantly.
As my ex-friend pulled out of the driveway, Lynette sat up on the edge of
the bed. There was a confident smirk on her face as she snapped her fingers
and pointed to her feet. A wave of mixed emotions swept over me. I was
heartbroken that Lynette had cheated on me once again; however, I took a
morose pleasure in being so thoroughly degraded by her. With every ounce of
humility in my soul, I knelt before my slutty girlfriend and docilely kissed
her feet.
As I humbly pressed my adoring lips to Lynette's beautiful feet, she
cheerfully revealed that my best friend had secretly visited her everyday
that week while I was at work. My girlfriend had thoroughly enjoyed screwing
him in the knowledge that I would be devastated when learning of their
affair. My self esteem was completely crushed, and my shame was intolerable.
Lynette giggled in delight.
"From now on, you wimp, I'm going to fuck any man I want, anytime I want."
she told me. "You're totally under my control. You're my helpless, foot
licking slave."
I looked up at Lynette with amazement at her impudence, a tear running down
my face. I dejectedly nodded in agreement. From my position on the floor, I
could see my former best friend's semen oozing from Lynette's gaping labia,
and trickling down the crack of her perfect ass. My surrender to her was
unconditional.
"I want to hear you to beg," Lynette demanded. "Beg me to use you for a
foot slave and beg me to fuck lots of other men who have big, hard cocks!"
"Please, Lynette," I responded weakly, "I want to be your foot slave under
any conditions. Please," I gulped, "fuck all the men you want. I want you to
fuck lots of other men; I want you to fuck men who have big cocks. Please
use me as a foot slave and cheat on me whenever you want."
"Mmmm, yes, that's exactly what I plan to do," she told me happily.
Lynette then began to rub the moist, warm soles of her feet up and down my
face. I knew what she expected of me and I began to lick her feet, tasting
the perspiration that had been produced in her act of betrayal. My head
spinning and my heart was pounding. I sucked her pedicured toes as though I
was famished. I fervidly worshiped Lynette's feet, all the while relishing
my role as her foot slave and forfeiting any shred of dignity I had left. If
her intention was to break me, Lynette had succeeded beyond her wildest
dreams-- and her superior smile showed me that she knew it.