Feet Lovers

Continued from: Helping a Friend

[Flight Attendant] [feet] [foot fetish] [hosiery] [high heels] [F/m]

A.I prompt: Can you make me an image of a play on words. A Domino's pizza box that says "feet lovers" instead of meat lovers?

This was about the 30th attempt at this image above, and it's actually kinda cute. I can live with this one. 

This one was a bit concerning, with the knife, and not A.I. generated. This one came from the interwebs. Sorta cute also. 

You know what else is cute? My wife, Summer! 

Now get inside and warm those buns up before I'm forced to help you warm them up!

"Oui, Mummy." 

After a few years and over 300 short stories, I have realized that Summer herself, has never written one. She was interviewed once, by some wiener from the internet but she has not once, authored a story on here. Probably because her English is not 100%, she has a noticeable, one could say thick, French accent. Also very cute! 

Go have a look at her interview: Someone's Gonna Get It

So, dear readers, try to follow along as best you can, with her Frenchness sprinkled into this one. Take it away Summer, after you get off eBay and put your phone down. 

"Oui Mademoiselle." 

I remember zee moment I first realize zee power of my feet, so vividly. I was une jeune fille, fresh out of flight attendant training, et eager to explore zee vast world. One of my first long-haul flights, I found myzelf noticing some of zee male passengers...zey would be starring at my feet. My feet zat were encased in sheer black stockings and perched atop zee high stilettos. 

Zee hours spent walking up and down zee aisle, attending to pazzengers' needs, had left my feet aching and swollen. But as I admired zem, I could see what zaa silly men were seeing, 'ow shapely and elegant zey looked. Zee arch of my foot was perfectly defined, my toes delicately tapered, and zee skin smooth and unblemished. Look and zee for yourzelf:

It was zen zat I decided to celebrate my beautiful pieds, to adorn zem and show zem off to zee world. I began wearing dainty anklets and zee toe rings, painting my nails a deep, seductive red, and slipping into zee finest silk stockings and lace-topped hold-ups. I took all zaa pride in caring for my feet, massaging zem with luxurious French lotions and keeping zem soft and supple. 

After meeting ma cherie, Vanessa, she told me her naughti, naughti little secrets. She is a very bad girl, who needs zee spanks! Somezing we also dabbled in, cherie and I. 

After zees long flights we would kick off our heels in zaa h'otel room and snap pictures of our stocking-clad feets, zee sheer fabric clinging to our sweaty soles and toes. We posted zees images onto the internets, describing zee aches and pains of our travels, telling zee men how much we needed the massages and comforts. 

To my surprise, zee responses were overwhelming. Men from all over zaa world began messaging me, complimenting my feet and begging for more photos. Zees men were captivated by my feet, driven wild with desire by zaa sight of my sweaty stockings and exhausted arches. They offered me money, gifts, anyzing to convince me to send to them my worn nylons or shoes. 

And so, my little side business was born, I started selling my used stockings, pantyhose, and heels to zee highest biddars, carefully packaging zem to preserve my unique scent and zee evidence of my femininity. 

I developed a system with Vanessa's help, verifying the authenticity of my items, taking photos and videos of myzelf wearing zem, sealing zem in airtight bags with my signature and a personal note. 

But zee more I embraced my role as a purveyor of worn delicates (I was zelling my knickers, too) zee more I found myself drawn into zee world of kink and BDSM. Zee men who bought my items often had very specific requests, asking me about my last spankings or if I like to be tied up. I must admit, zier ideas were exciting to me. 

This is a time in her life where she can't explain it in English, but she basically didn't want her severed feet to end up in some dude's freezer. Oh look, a creepy basement!

The bad man on the internet said it was safe down there...go on, Summer. He just wants to take some pictures of your feet." 

Oh fuck! 

Safety, ladies! Safety, safety! I get the whole CNC (consensual non-consent) play, but please take care of yourselves and be smart about power dynamics play. 

Zat is when I met my beloved Mistress Andrea. She led me through zee various rooms of her Facilitee, each equipped with its own array of bondage gear, whips, and other implements of discipline. Here was a place where I could safely indulge my deepest, darkest fantazee, where I could surrender completely to zee pleasures of submission. She was tall and statuesque, with jet-black hair, piercing blue eyes, and a commanding presence zat made my knees weak. A woman who could bend me to her will, with nothink more zan a glance. 

Eventually, our relationship evolved beyond zee confines of zee fetish studio. We moved in together, sharing a grand mansion on zee outskirts of zaa city. Mistress continued to run her business, welcoming clients into our home and guiding zem tru dare own journey of submission and self-discovery. Meanwhile, I balance my duty as her devoted slave with my career as a flight attendant, jetting off to exotic destinations and returning home to kneel at her feet. 

Our love story culminated in dramatic fashion. I'm going to start crying. Our love story culminated in a hotel room in New Orleans, when Mistress hid her face from me, to hide zaa tears in her eyes. 

That storyline can be found here: I have a plane to catch

"I don't know how to say goodbye to you anymore." She zed to me. Right before she told me that she loved me. 

"Say it again..." I replied to her. Hehe, and she did! 

As I embraced my role as Mistress Andrea's devoted wife and submissive, she encouraged all of zaa feet content and grew my side-hustle into a lucrative business zat has made us beyond rich. 

Who would have thought, oui? Somezing zoe zimple as my little toes. 

Love always, 

Summer Addison Holiday 

💋

Continued in: Sports Betting

 

Adorable A.I.

Continued from: Doctor Patel

[FF/f] [Flight Attendants] [hosiery] [feet] [heels] [lezdom] [MDLG]

Summer and I have a little surprise for all of you. You remember Summer, don't you? My precious wife, born in Paris, speaks with a cute French accent, maintains her job as a flight attendant so she can sell her cabin crew hosiery and heels, and most importantly, the lowercase 's' in our D/s marriage.  

If I had to describe her in one word, it would simply be...adorable. 

In a story called The Sims are brought to Life, and another one called The OG's, I began to dabble in A.I. generated images of not only myself, but some of the other characters who appear in the blog. 

It more or less started out looking like this:

The character of Summer, in the Sims 4 game, has a signature hairstyle that was uniquely hers. The A.I. seemed to run with this theme no matter what the setting of the photo was. 

Isn't she adorable, with her little figure-skater arse? 

Without having to prompt the A.I., the braids carried into most of the selfie requests for Summer. In this one, she and I were about to have a playdate in the living room. 

Corner time, a spot in the house she knows intimately well. The A.I. kept her adorable aesthetic and quintessential hair style. 

When she's not in the timeout corner, Summer can play the role of teacher...

...as easily as she can play the student. (In the description of the setting for this photo, I think I just said "chalkboard in a classroom". The A.I. generates its own gibberish on the board, as you can see above and below. Secret robot language maybe? Plotting to destroy humanity?) 

Most fans of Summer will also know that her default role at home is that of a "little". She doesn't speak like a baby or need to be changed or fed, unless we're playing a scene like that, but around the house, she feels most at peace dressing like an exaggeration of a little girl. 

Domestic Discipline, MDLG, D/s relationship, is probably how I would officially describe our dynamic. 

From the sweet lips of Summer, I am usually "Mommy", sometimes I'm "Ma'am", and occasionally, "Mistress". 

This one is definitely a "Ma'am" moment. Ohhhh she was about to get the spanking of her life, that day!

Mistress mode? Sometimes we dabble in the upscale dungeon space, yes. 

Sometimes she ends up down in the basement, in the darker, more captive dungeon space. 

When not in a defined role, Summer will usually be working on her feet content.

Perhaps or out for a jog, ensuring her hosiery or socks, her sneakers, are pleasantly infused with her gorgeousness, before they go up for sale online. 

Clients who want to spend a little more money on all things Summer, can anxiously wait for a trans-Atlantic flight pair of nylons. 

That's her bestie, Vanessa, who first got her started on the cabin crew hosiery sales racket. I have a major girl-crush on Vanessa to the point that I even let her Domme me once. Summer was ok with it. 

Gawd it was so hot! I think that story was called I often envy submissives.

Vanessa is an absolute Goddess, you should go back and read about what she does to and with her husband *giggle. 

But, this post is not about being a Goddess, it's about being adorable. And no one really pulls it off as well as my darling wife, Summer Addison Holiday.

Ok, we're going to try a video here. Hopefully it works. 

and...

Surprise, everyone! Summer is real!

And thank you A.I., for bringing this sprinkle of sunshine to life. Even in this little clip, she was nothing short of adorable. 

Mistress Andrea

xoxo

Continued in: Old Fashioned

Girl-Talk

Continued from: Bi-polar BDSM

[F/mfff] [chastity] [cuckold] [lezdom] [bisexual] [feet] [foot worship] [heels]

A Sarah Jane story

My new role seemed to have me much more emboldened of late. I didn't even hesitate when I kissed Mandy on the lips, as she dangled helplessly in the basement dungeon, her impending whipping no doubt playing on her mind. 

As Russell and I emerged from the depths of the dungeon, our senses still reeling from the intoxicating spectacle of Mandy, we encountered Mistress Andrea, poised at the top of the stairs. In her hand, she gripped a menacing-looking whip, its supple leather coils promising a world of exquisite agony for poor Mandy. 

As our eyes met, a knowing smile played across her ruby-red lips, and she reclined her head in a gesture of acknowledgement. "I won't be long, sweetheart," she purred, her voice a sultry whisper. With a wink and a twirl of her whip, Mistress Andrea swept past us, descending the stairs with a predatory grace, highlighted by the click of her boots. 

I turned to Russell, my eyes gleaming with a mixture of lust and mischief. "Well, young man," I spoke, my finger tracing a line across his jaw, "it seems we have a few moments to ourselves. Shall we make the most of them?"

"Yes, Ma'am," he dutifully replied, following behind me like a puppy dog. 

With a relaxing sigh, I lowered myself on to the plush velvet loveseat in the bar. Slowly, deliberately, I slipped my feet from the confines of my towering stilettos, relishing the cool air that caressed my stocking-clad toes. 

Russell assumed his rightful position on the floor. knowing that he is not permitted onto furniture unless expressly invited. I settled back into the sofa, pressing the pad of my foot against his lips and nose. Each touch, each kiss and lick from Russell, served as a reminder of the power I now held over him, and I was savouring every last drop. 

The sudden intrusion of Summer's melodious voice, coupled with her playful giggle, startled me from my Domme-space. My head snapped up, my eyes widening as I took in the sight of her, literally in her underwear outside, standing in the patio doorway under a grape arbor. 

She brought her hands over her mouth and giggled again. 

"Papa! Que fais-tu avec un collier?" 

I think she said something to the effect of, "Daddy, what's with the collar?" 

"Hi, Summer," I seductively hissed at her while chuckling. I couldn't help but recognize the absurdity of the situation. Here I was, lounging like a Goddess while the man she so recently was calling 'Daddy', groveled at my feet, his face buried in the delicate arches of my stockings. 

Before I could elaborate further on the delightful intricacies of our new dynamic, Summer squealed in joy and launched herself onto me, her petite frame colliding with mine in a tangle of kisses and laughter. 

With Summer half-naked and her tongue down my throat, Mistress Andrea strode into the room, clearly she had finished with Mandy downstairs, a riding crop remained clutched firmly in her hand. 

A slow, irritated smirk spread across her face as she drank in the sight of the debauched scene. Russell, kneeling obediently, behaving himself, and her own lovely wife, straddling my lap as our lips and tongues engaged in a passionate dance. 

With a flick of her wrist, she snapped the riding crop off Summer's exposed bum, the sharp crack of leather against flesh echoing through the room. Summer let out a surprised yelp, but I could see the glimmer of excitement in her eyes as she reluctantly disentangled herself from me. 

"Off, young lady," Mistress commanded, giving her one more with the crop for good measure. "We mustn't molest the guests," Mistress smirked again, holding back a giggle. 

"Why don't you take Russell outside and he can help you pick some grapes, huni?" 

"Yes, Madame," she quickly replied, before turning to the kneeling Russell and helping him to his feet by his wrist. 

"Allez, Papa. Vite." 

I think she was deliberately continuing to call him Daddy, but in French, to spite his new role. I didn't mind, it was cute, she's cute all-around. 

Poor Russell...

"Come, Daddy...watch me pick grapes in my underwear and high heels...while your penis is locked in a chastity cage..." Right!? 

I wonder if Mistress plans all this ahead of time, is she just that good? 

I didn't ask, as she settled in beside me for some much anticipated girl-talk. I reached for her gloved hand, bringing it to my lips to kiss it as a gesture of my admiration of her.

"How's Mandy, Mistress?" I asked curiously, wondering why I hadn't seen her yet. 

"Oh, she's fine, baby. Just taking some time to decompress then a shower and clean up. She has to make herself look like an innocent soccer mom again, right?" Mistress stifled a smile as she spoke.  

"She said she'd come find you though, in a little while." Mistress replied, while stroking my hair.

"Was there something you wanted to ask me, Sarah Jane?" she coaxed. 

Emboldened, I pressed on, my cheeks flushing slightly as I voiced the desire that had been simmering beneath the surface since this morning.  My voice became low and intense, as I leaned forward, my eyes locking with hers. "I want to fuck Russell with a strap-on," I stated bluntly, the vulgarity of my words sending a thrill through my body.

Mistress raised eyebrow and her devilish smile spoke volumes, without her needing to utter a single word. She leaned in, her lips brushing against my forehead in a soft kiss, a gesture that was both tender and possessive. 

"Good girl," she whispered, as our eyes met, and a silent understanding passed between us. 

"I can help with that," Mistress cooed, as I snuggled into her closer. 

Sarah Jane 💟

Continued in: Girl-talk Continues

  

Mad Men

Continued from: Pent-Up

[F/f] [secretary] [pantyhose] [rope bondage] [forced lezdom] [age regression] [mature]

During these early months of warm weather I had certainly been seeing enough of Cassandra, throughout that whole court scene we did. This ultimately culminated in my sweet Cassandra developing big feelings for her newfound girl-crush, Carley. It was adorable to watch. She had the look of her mother in those moments of deep emotion. 

Which reminded me...I actually miss Bella. I haven't seen her in awhile for any form of play, despite her practically begging me over text for a session. With Cassandra now gone on a hot date with not only Carley but Carley's boyfriend too *shakes my head*. Summer was at work for a few days on flights, it seemed like the best time than any to reconnect with my original slave girl, the stunning and elegant Bella Goth. 

But...whatever shall we do? What scene should I construct for her. I have so many options with this beauty. The innocence and vulnerability of knee-socks and a short plaid skirt, as she is made to write "I'm sorry for being a naughty girl", over and over on the chalkboard in my classroom? 

Which would no doubt lead to a trip to the female Principal's office where special equipment is available for her correction. Look how vulnerable and beautiful this set-up is: 

I have a table just like this, with bondage options and a bolster for her naked hips. She's probably quite overdue for a good thrashing on that bare bum of hers. 

Maybe...just maybe we'll end up here. Perhaps the objectification of serving me as a maid would be better for today? She could mince around the house in her heels, feather-dusting and scrubbing on her hands and knees while I leer up her dress and whistle in her direction. 

Pony play seems like too much work for today. I could do deep age regression and dress her up like a precious little girl, she hates those outfits! Hates them, that is, until I draw attention to how wet her pussy gets, after dressing her up like a little doll. 

Ahhh. I've got it! Something she and I haven't played in awhile. I reached for my phone to message: 

What a sweetheart! 

You're about to witness Bella's "Mad Men" fantasy. She will actually flip-flop and start calling me "Sir", when she arrives. We've done this scene before, and with little to no instruction, she'll arrive here dressed perfectly and ready to go. Sexualized but timid, meek and demure, ultra-feminine and a bit of an office tart with the right encouragement. 

I'm playing the role of her misogynistic, dickhead of a boss from another era. A time when it was completely normal to slap your Secretary's ass and call her 'toots'. A time where if she wasn't at a typewriter, she'd be out buying the boss a bottle of scotch, as he burnt through the first one during another liquid lunch with "important clients". 

How do I look? Jacket or no jacket? 

No jacket I think... 

Sure as God's got sandals, my shy and timid Secretary clicked into my boardroom about an hour after I text her. I cleared my throat and braced myself for my very best of chauvinism and toxic masculinity.

"Ahh, Miss Goth, please enter..." I spoke as I began our scene. 

"Good morning, Sir", she meekly responded with her eyes down, "I picked up your dry cleaning on the way in to work." Bella ventured out into perfect character. 

In some of these roleplays, especially this one, it's difficult not to break character and burst out laughing, as I was being such a douche-bag...

"Thanks, Sweet Cheeks." I replied, while putting my feet up on the board table like an a-hole. 

"You know, the senior partners and I were talkin'...that big promotion might be in your future, if you start dressing a little sexier around here..." I said with a chuckle. 

Omg I can't even! lol

My, my ladies, we've come a long way. I apologize in advance for this one, it's just a fantasy scene! 

My dickish comment made Bella blush, but she didn't miss a beat with her role. She let out a ditzy giggle and flipped her hair to the side. "Yes Sir, I'll try harder, Sir." 

I seem to remember an old story on this blog where this young lady named Julie, was blowin' the boss to try to earn that big promotion. She ended up getting a spanking from the boss instead...

Perhaps Bella will end up down that same path today? 

She's a good sport, isn't she?! 

Stay tuned for the conclusion of this one. 

Mistress Andrea 

xoxo 

Continued in: Secretary Fantasy