Locked Eyes

"I saw you staring, you know."

My mind skips, a subtle warmth blooms across my cheeks.

"What do you mean?" I ask, my voice unintentionally thin.

"At the bar last weekend. I saw your eyes on my feet... more than once."

I glance away, words dissolving on my tongue. I can feel her eyes on me, pinning me in place.

"Do you like them?" she asks, smiling, almost teasing.

Is she teasing? Does she actually know? My mind reels trying to form a response, a way to play it off. A heavy silence hangs in the room.

"I said... do you like them?" Her voice cutting the tension.

"... they're nice."

She laughs.

"Just nice?" She lifts her legs, resting her feet across my lap. "Tell me more."

I stare down at them and a wave of embarrassment--or, something deeper, more erotic--washes through me, like fire across my skin. My thoughts begin to slip away.

"I said," her voice pulls me back to the moment, "Tell. Me. More."

"Your toes are cute," I finally choke out.

"Mhm..." she hums. "Would you kiss them if I asked you to?"

If my face wasn't red before, it is now, so red you'd think I was suffocating.

"Um..." I squeak out, more breath than word.

"Hey." Her voice softens. "Look at me."

I lift my eyes just as she reaches for my chin, cradling it in her palm, holding me to eye contact. Her eyes are beautiful, almost intimidatingly so.

"You like feet, don't you," she teases, in a way that's almost telling me, rather than asking.

My heart skips.

Her fingers tighten just slightly. "I know you do. So I'll ask again, and you're going to answer. Do you like feet?"

I melt.

"Yes.." I answer quietly. The admission tumbles from my lips, and heat floods through me, building between my legs. I've never said it out loud before, it feels like truth. It feels like release. It feels like I'm fucking. horny.

She smirks. "Do you want to rub mine?"

"I do."

"Ask me."

"... can I rub your feet?"

"Is that the best you can do? Ask properly."

A wave of desperation rises in my chest, twisting with the growing humiliation. She's pushing me. And I want to be pushed.

"Please.. can I please rub your feet?"

Her smile widens. "Good girl. That's better. Now," She flexes her feet that are still resting in my lap, "take my shoes off."

I lean back, fumbling with the buckle on her heeled open toe sandals. My hands shake. Excitement, nerves, something in between.

"Actually, hold on." Her voice shifts, softer again. "You're into this, right? Because if you're not, we can--"

"No, I am--" I blurt out, probably too fast. "It's just... a lot for me."

She smiles. A beautiful, deep smile. Like the smile of a predator who's just identified their prey.

She nods. "Good. We'll use the traffic light system. You know what that is?"

I nod, mirroring her smile. "Yeah. That works for me."

"Perfect." Her tone hardens. "Now... take my fucking shoes off."

I obey, loosening each buckle and sliding her sandals off.

"Good. Start rubbing."

Her feet wiggle slightly, teasing, as I reach. They're soft, delicate, and powerful all at once. My fingers trace the fine lines along her soles as I massage them, memorizing their shape. She's wearing pastel blue polish. It suits her.

I glance up. She's leaning back, watching me, a slow, satisfied smile playing at her lips.

As I massage the arch of her left foot, she lifts the right, holding it up to my face.

"Kiss it."

I hesitate for a moment. Then I lean in, pressing my lips to the ball of her foot. She smells amazing.

"Good girl," she coos. "Keep kissing until I tell you to stop."

I do. And with every kiss, I feel the heat between my legs coil tighter, sharper, aching. As I look up, I realize she's feeling the same.

My eyes follow as her hand drifts downward, disappearing into the front of her jean shorts. I take a hand off her foot and go to do the same.

"Don't fucking touch yourself without permission." She snaps.

I freeze. "sorry..."

"Don't be sorry, ask me."

"Can I touch?"

"No."

A whimper catches in my throat. "Just a little?"

"I said no."

I let out a needy breath but obey, pressing another kiss to her foot instead.

"In fact, I want you to start answering me properly. From now on, address me as Princess. Got it?"

"Yes."

"Yes, what?"

"Yes, Princess."

"Good girl. You learn fast. Now," She gestures to the floor, "get on your knees."

"Right now?" I ask looking down.

"Yes right now, get on the floor and face me"

"Yes Princess," I respond as I move onto my knees, an intense mix of embarrassment and submission washing through me. Her eyes follow me down.

"Open your mouth. Tongue out."

I obey. She drags her foot along my tongue, smearing my own spit across my face, marking me. She points her toes.

"Suck."

I move to obey, but she pulls herself back, just out of reach.

"What did you forget?"

The embarrassment cuts through me, "Yes, Princess."

"Better. Now..." She presses her toes to my lips.

I kiss one before she pushes the rest into my mouth. Her toes on my tongue cause my mind to go blank. I can't think of anything other than the sweet taste of her feet and the incessant need growing between my legs. I hear her breath grow faster as she forces herself deeper, gagging me. I can tell she's getting close.

"Does my good girl want to cum?" She asks, a sadistic tone peaking through, "does my good girl want to rub her little clit right now?"

I'm a mess, wet and desperate to touch. "Yes, Princess, please can I?" I plead, still gagged by her foot, but as my words reach the air, they sound like nothing more than a muffled outline.

She laughs. "You sound so fucking stupid."

She pulls her foot out and rests it again on my lips. "What'll you do for me if I let you try?" she says as she moves her other foot between my legs, slowly rubbing my clit through my shorts.

fuck it feels good

Unable to think, "I'll do anything."

"Not good enough," she jeers, "try again, more specific."

My mind reels, but all I can think of is, "I'll rub your feet whenever you want.."

"You'll be my little foot slut whenever I tell you?"

"Yes"

"Say it"

"I'll be your foot slut, princess"

"Say it again," her breath growing heavier, I can tell she's close.

"I'm your foot slut," I say again as she pushes her toes back into my mouth, half gagging my words.

"Good girl, keep sucking," she says as she continues rubbing her clit in small circles, muscles tightening.

After a moment, arching her back, she cums. Her moans, rich and sweet, fill the electric air around us. Without realizing it, I start humping her foot faster, feeling my desperation grow.

As her breath slows, she looks down at me again, a smirk peaking through. "Oh, did you want to cum too?"

My eyes widen in desperation, "Please," I ask pathetically, "can I?"

But as I see the look swirling in her eyes, and feel her move to pull away, I have a feeling I already know the answer.