Foot Fetish

Since I met my Mistress, I have thought that perhaps my submissiveness could come from my childhood. Indeed, when I was a child, my mother usually asked me to massage her feet every afternoon. During my childhood, I did it spontaneously, and I think I felt proud of serving my mother and helping to relax and rest her. She worked a lot and surely she was tired at the end of the day (although by these days, as a child, I was not aware of these things). Anyway, I massaged my mother's feet, and I enjoyed seeing that she liked it. After the massage, she usually pampered me, kissed me and often played with me. That habit really made me happy in an unconscious way.

I think that such habit lasted until I was twelve when my adolescence started and my hormones changed my priorities. Back then, massaging was not so pleasant and spontaneous. 

And still, every now and then I would please my mother. Even when I wanted to ask her for something, I very subtly, with at least a week in advance, put myself near her to massage her feet. I think it was when I was 14 that I wanted a skateboard. So for about a week, I was subtly around her, and when she was lying on the sofa in the late afternoon, I came by chance, and I made sure that she realised that I had seen her feet. 

- My boy, don't you want to give me a massage? 

- hmmm ... Well, okay, but just once, a short one, I replied ...

I was meticulous in giving her a great massage. When I listened to her moans, I felt that she was pleased, and at every successful massage, I felt closer to the moment of placing my request. About a week later, before to go to bed and give her my good night kiss, I asked: mom, could you buy me a skateboard? Of course, my boy! 

That tactic worked many times, but not always. I am not sure if she got aware of my manipulative actions, but it was a good deal.

So, I have become a great foot masseur since my childhood. 

From my first sexual encounters, I naturally considered a significant advance to conquer the feet of the woman who was seducing me. I have always been prey, rather than the hunter, as they are the women who approach me (but not my Mistress, just for clarification). But once I touch her feet, I become a hunter. At the exception of my mother, I can assure that no woman I have massaged her feet has resisted consummating sex with me. I believe that many women are not aware that their feet are a source of access to their arousal. In fact, some of my lovers have told me that they have had orgasms while I massage and kiss her feet. I left them so relaxed and excited that the rest happens very spontaneously.

But the feet were not a fetish for me. I mean, I did not need to look at the feet of my lovers for being excited. 

Several years ago, while I was doing one of my Mistress assignments, I sent her a picture of a plate that I had prepared and which was part of the assignment. She replied something like "I will be thinking of dinner with you and you massaging My feet afterwards. Giggles". At that moment, wholly unaware of the power of my Mistress, I told myself something like "she does not know what she is telling me, because perhaps if I massaged her feet, then she could fall". Of course, I did not tell her that, but I told her that my mother had taught me to massage feet and that for me, such activity is very natural.

But now it happens that my Mistress has managed for sowing me a fetish around her feet. In the beginning, I tried to imagine my Mistress's face during my masturbation fantasies, daydreams and dreams. But now the only thing that I can conceive of my Mistress is her feet. 

It blushes me to say it, but my Mistress's feet have become an obsession for me, and the roles that I have had like a foot masseur have been reversed. Now I am the one who moans and has orgasms while I fantasise with the feet of my Mistress. I, who imagined clitoris on the toes that I kissed and licked, and made cum my lovers, now I cum gracefully while I believe I am licking my Mistress's toe. 

How did my Mistress achieve to implant me such an obsession? I am not sure. Every time that I feel I understand something, she surprises me with another revelation. I think every slave of my Mistress at some moment has felt curious about my Mistress's face. She rarely shows it. In reality, no slave needs to know my Mistress's face. I do not need to look at my Mistress's face because I have only eyes for her feet. Her place will always be above me, my Highness. And my position will always be on the floor, with my mind blank, empty, at the feet of my Mistress Shelle, who owns me and brainwashes me for being her perfect slave.