Carol's Foot Slave

Worship at Carol's Feet

It was a beautiful Saturday weather wise. We had just returned from Stasio's, one of our favorite Italian delis. We had spent the morning paddleboarding Winter Park chain of lakes and were looking forward to a relaxing evening at home. We both headed for the couch to relax. At first, I didn't notice Carol slip off her heels. I was half-watching TV, half-scrolling through my phone, when she slid onto the couch next to me, her legs stretched across my lap.

"Feet tired baby?" I asked absently. But when I saw the gleam in her eye and the slow flex of her toes, I knew this wasn't about comfort. She was teasing me with a foot show.

She smirked, curling her toes and brushing her arch over my thigh. "I know how much you love my feet," she said, voice low and teasing.

Her foot slid higher, warm, and insistent. Her other foot pressed gently against my chest, guiding me back, taking control without ever needing to raise her voice.

"You've been so distracted lately with your work," she whispered. "It's time I reminded you what really matters. My feet are your reward for all your hard work."

She lifted her foot to my mouth. I kissed her arch reverently, then slowly dragged my tongue along the soft, smooth skin. She moaned above me and slid the other foot down to my lap, grinding against my cock as I massaged her feet.

I took her foot into my hands, massaging the sole, kissing each toe in turn as if I were memorizing them. Her sighs deepened, her hips shifting slightly on the couch as she pressed the ball of her foot into my lap with a steady rhythm. My cock throbbed beneath the pressure of her beautiful size six and a half dancer's feet.

"Nice baby?" she whispered, brushing her toes against my lips again. "You still know how to focus when you're given the right reason."

I nodded, breathless, lips parting as I took her big toe into my mouth and sucked it gently, slowly, worshipfully. She gasped, her hand reaching down to cradle the back of my head, holding me there.

"That's it," she purred. "Your all mine."

In that moment, I would've done anything Carol asked, said anything, given anything. She had me wrapped around her little toe, and she knew it.

She shifted again, and this time I slid down to the floor willingly, kneeling before her, her legs draped across the cushions like a goddess receiving tribute. I pressed slow, deliberate kisses along the top of her foot...".

"You want more?" she murmured, tilting her foot up until her toes rested beneath my chin.

I swallowed hard and nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

She smiled--slow, wicked, affectionate.

"Good. Now start again. From the heel this time."

I obeyed without hesitation. I could smell the sexy musky scent of her foot.

I started again at her heel, kissing it softly, then running my tongue along the curve of her sole, slow, wet, deliberate. Carol let out a long, satisfied sigh, her head falling back against the cushions. One hand slipped beneath her dress, fingers disappearing between her thighs. Carol had her dress pulled up and I could clearly see how wet her pussy was watching me worship her feet. I could smell her arousal, subtle and musky, driving me wild.

As I worked my way up her foot, she used the other to press against my chest, then my throat, playfully, but firm enough to remind me who was in charge.

"You're so sexy right now," she said, breath ragged. "On your knees. Mouth full of my feet and toes."

I moaned around her toes, sucking them deeper, swirling my tongue around each one. Her hips rolled. Her breathing grew shallow. Her other foot slid down to my crotch again, toes curling around the bulge in my pants.

"Unzip your pants and pull out your cock for me. I want to watch you cum on my feet." she said, her voice darker now, commanding.

She pressed hard on my cock with her foot, grinding her arch against my it in slow, teasing circles.

I gasped, hips twitching, the friction maddening.

"You're going to make a mess for me, aren't you?" she said, rubbing the tip of her toe along the length of my hard cock. "Right here. Just from worshiping my feet like the good, desperate husband you are."

I nodded, barely able to speak. My body was on fire, my need unbearable. She kept her eyes on mine, her toes flexing and rubbing, sliding over my exposed cock, her other foot still in my mouth, soaked with my saliva.

My hips jerked.

Without notice, I exploded all at once, uncontrolled, trembling, humiliating in the most perfect way. I moaned into her toes as I came hard all over her skillful feet, my entire body trembling, breath catching in my throat.

Carol just smiled, lazy and triumphant.

"Good boy," she whispered. "That's better."

She slid her foot out of my mouth and ran it slowly down my cheek. I leaned into it, dizzy with pleasure, shame, and devotion.

"Carol held her cum covered foot to my lips. You know what to do now. I want you to eat all your cum," she said, glancing down at the mess left on her foot, "and when your done I have more work for your tongue."

She parted her legs slowly, revealing her nicely shaved pussy. My mouth watered at the sight.

I dropped to my knees again, not from obligation, but from need, raw and hungry. I kissed her thighs first, reverently, letting my lips trace their way inward towards her delicious pussy. Carol cradled the back of my head, guiding me to her clit.

"Do it slow," she whispered. "I need to feel your tongue on my missy."

I tasted her, my hands gripping her hips as she arched and shuddered beneath me. Her moans spilled out, legs tightening around my shoulders, hips rocking with rhythm.

"Your delicious baby, I love tasing all your fluid."

She didn't need to direct me much, I knew her body too well, but when she whispered, "I'm so close," I gave her everything.

Carol exploded, gushing her fluid in my mouth, she pulled me tight against her, riding the waves with breathless, broken whimpers. I didn't stop until she gently pushed my head back, her pussy too sensitive to take more.

Her fingers ran through my hair, soft and slow.

"You're so good at this," she murmured. "You're an incredible lover."

We both had a great evening together and I could not wait to see what else the weekend had in store for us.

After the Walk

The next day we both woke up and began our usual routines. I made coffee while carol took our golden retriever "Jackson" for a walk around the pond.

She came in from her walk barefoot, flipflops dangling from her fingers, a smug little smile curling her lips.

"Man, it's hot out there," she said, stretching in the doorway. "It was so dusty out there today. My feet are filthy."

I had to check out her feet. Her soles were soiled, dust clinging to her heels and toes.

Carol caught me looking and gave me a sexy grin.

"You going to take care of that for me?"

She sat on the edge of the couch and raised one foot.

I walked toward her. "I can't resist; I love your dirty feet. You know that."

I sank to my knees. The scent of her sweat and the faint earthiness of the pavement filled my head as I kissed the ball of her foot, then licked slowly up her arch. My tongue caught on grains of dirt, salt, the raw flavor of her body after a walk.

She tilted her head back, one hand in my hair, the other foot resting between my thighs. "Keep going," she whispered. "Show me how you clean every inch."

I didn't hesitate.

Her foot was still warm from the sun, damp from the walk, coated in the kind of filth that would've embarrassed most people. But not Carol. Not with me. She knew that it drove me crazy.

I dragged my tongue slowly along the curve of her arch again, this time with intention--tasting the mix of sweat and dirt like it was sacred. My lips found the crease beneath her toes, and I kissed them with devotion. She let out a quiet moan and flexed them against my mouth.

"That's it," she murmured. "Nice and slow. They need a thorough cleaning."

I took her toes into my mouth, one by one, sucking them with care, grit, and all. The texture of the dust, the tang of her sweat, the sheer wrongness of it only made it more perfect. I was on my knees, cleaning her filthy feet like it was a privilege. To me it was.

She shifted her weight, lifting the other foot and planting it firmly in my lap. My cock was already hard, aching against the soft pressure of her sole. She felt it. Pressed down. Smiled wider.

"Filthy feet," she said, running her toes over the bulge in my shorts. "Your such a dirty boy."

I moaned into her arch, licking along the edge of her heel, tongue working past the dry grit. I didn't care. I wanted it all.

"You really love this, don't you?" she whispered, pulling me closer with a foot hooked behind my neck. "My dirty feet. My sweaty toes. Every disgusting little inch."

"I do," I gasped, lips pressed to the base of her foot. "I love it."

She sighed contentedly, then tugged me up by the collar of my shirt. I met her eyes, mischievous, dark with arousal, and she kissed me, deeply, without flinching at where my mouth had been.

"You're mine to command," she said against my lips.

I nodded, breathless. "Completely."

She pushed me back onto the carpet and rested both feet on my chest like a queen on her throne, smug and barefoot and absolutely divine.

Once I spent time cleaning her feet she stood, and we headed for the shower.

"Come on lover we need to shower. I'm just heating you up for after dinner."

Sharing Feet

It started as a joke--something Carol teased me with after dinner, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Would you watch," she whispered, "if I let someone else enjoy my feet tonight?"

I didn't answer. Not with words. She saw the flush rise to my face, the way my body tensed. That was all the permission she needed.

By the time we got to the bedroom, the lights were low, and her laptop was already open. She wore nothing but a sheer black robe, and even that was slipping off her shoulders. Her feet were bare--clean, soft, perfect. She sat cross-legged on the bed like a queen waiting for entertainment.

And then he appeared.

The man on the other end of the video chat was already naked, stroking himself slowly as the call connected. His camera was angled low--face out of frame, body fully exposed. Carol didn't flinch. She smiled.

"Say hello," she said without looking at me.

I swallowed. "Hello."

He didn't answer, but I saw his hand twitch.

Carol laughed softly. "He likes knowing you're here watching. Powerless."

She shifted, lifting one foot to the camera, curling her toes slowly. "Is this what you wanted?" she asked him, voice low and teasing. "You've been begging to see them up close. But you don't get them all at once. You'll earn it."

She extended her leg, dragging her sole across the lens, letting him see every detail--arch, heel, toe--while the other foot rested in my lap, pressing down hard on my cock through my pants.

"You don't touch," she murmured to me. "Not unless he says."

I sat motionless, aching, humiliated, and burning with desire.

She turned back to the camera. "Stroke faster," she told him. "I want to see how badly you want my feet."

He obeyed immediately, breath ragged, hand a blur.

Carol moaned softly. She watched the way he twitched when she flexed her toes. For the way I sat there, watching my wife seduce a stranger while I wasn't even allowed to unzip.

"You're both mine," she whispered, now looking between us. "One gets my feet. One gets the ache. And neither of you comes unless I say so."

She dragged her foot across my chest, slow and deliberate, while showing her other sole to the camera like a gift only he was allowed to enjoy.

My heart pounded. My cock throbbed. I hated how much I wanted to beg.

And she knew it.

Carol stretched out luxuriously on the bed, her robe now hanging completely open, feet front and center on the camera. Her toes flexed slowly, deliberately, like she knew just how close she had both of us--him on the screen, panting and desperate, and me on the floor, rigid with need, her foot still pressing against my chest.

"You're both so eager," she said, smirking. "Two grown men undone by my feet. It's almost embarrassing."

She let one leg rise higher, holding her foot just inches from the camera. "You want to come for these?" she asked him. "Then beg. Show me what a footslut you really are."

He whined something--a wordless plea, his hand a blur, his hips twitching off-camera.

Carol moaned softly, amused. "That's better. You can come. But keep your eyes on my soles while you do it."

He groaned loudly, his body seizing in a stuttered, shaking release. Carol kept her foot raised the whole time, smiling with satisfaction as the tension broke through his screen. She didn't flinch. Just watched him fall apart with the same calm, sensual authority that had owned the moment from the start.

Then, finally, her gaze turned to me.

"And you," she said, withdrawing her foot from the screen and planting it firmly between my legs. "You waited so well. My good, obedient husband."

I shuddered at her voice.

"You want to come now?"

"Yes," I gasped. "Please."

She pushed her foot harder into my lap, rubbing slow, precise circles.

"Unzip," she said. "Show me that beautiful hard cock."

I obeyed with shaking hands, releasing the unbearable pressure as she slid her toes under the waistband and wrapped them around me. Just her foot. Just enough.

I moaned helplessly, grinding against the soft, slick underside of her arch, already on the edge.

"I want to see you come for me," she said. "On my feet."

That was it.

I cried out, hips jerking, spilling onto her sole in a rush of heat and relief and total surrender.

Carol smiled, slowly lifting her foot, watching the messy gleam under the dim light.

"You're both done now," she said, turning the laptop so the man on the screen could see the result. "And I'm still untouched."

She stood, walking slowly to the bathroom, looking over her shoulder just once.

"I need you to lick your cum off my feet," she said to me. "Then thank me."

And I crawled after her, hard again already.

Morning Tease

The sunlight crept through the blinds, but I didn't move. I was already awake--barely--when I felt the weight of her foot slide under the covers.

At first, it was just warmth against my leg. Then she moved, slowly dragging her sole over the length of my morning hardness. I gasped.

"Morning," Carol whispered behind me, her voice coated in sleep and mischief.

She shifted beside me and kicked the sheets down, exposing both of us. She stretched like a cat, then looked down at me, her foot pressing with deliberate pressure.

"You're already hard. That's cute."

Her foot stroked me again, slow, steady. I was completely frozen, helpless under her gentle tease.

"You don't get to use your hands," she said, yawning with fake innocence. "Just lie there and be mine."

She swung her leg over and settled one foot on my face, the other working between my legs. I inhaled her skin--warm, lightly musky from sleep. I kissed her toes automatically, needing her, tasting her.

"Lick," she said. "You want release? Show me you're worth it."

And I did, tongue flicking and trailing along every inch while her foot brought me to the edge and back again. Over and over.

By the time she finally relented, letting me beg for her, I was a wreck of desire--because of nothing more than her feet and her voice.

Hotel Heat

The hotel room was dim, the air thick from the summer heat. We'd just checked in, but Carol was already barefoot, walking slowly across the hardwood floor while sipping something cold from the minibar.

Her sandals lay abandoned by the door. Her feet were bare, slightly reddened from travel, and dusted with the soft grime of the city sidewalks.

"You want to touch me?" she asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. "You know the rules."

I got down on my knees instantly.

"Start with the right one," she said. "They're filthy."

I lifted her foot, already aching for her, and pressed it to my face. The smell made my head spin--warm, sweaty, a hint of leather from her sandals, and the grit of the street.

She wiggled her toes as I kissed them, then moaned as I took them into my mouth, one by one. I licked the ball of her foot, sucked the arch, and cleaned away every trace of her day's journey.

"That's it," she said. "Clean me. Worship me. And maybe--maybe--I'll let you sleep in the bed tonight instead of the floor."

She placed her heel against my lips and smiled.

"Or I'll just keep you down there. You look so good at my feet."

Bound Beneath Her Soles

I don't know when she got so good with rope.

I stood at the edge of the bed, wrists already bound together behind my back, ankles loosely secured to the baseboard. Carol circled me like a predator with a secret. Her silk robe was barely tied, and her bare feet padded across the floor with deliberate grace.

"You've been far too eager lately," she said, smirking. "It's adorable. But now, I think it's time you remember who owns you."

She pushed me back onto the bed. My arms tugged at the knots--tight, but not cruel. Just enough to make sure I was hers.

She climbed up, straddling my chest, and slowly, slowly lowered one foot onto my mouth.

"Don't speak. Just lick."

Her sole pressed against my lips, hot and commanding. I opened, tasting her, obeying her. Her other foot dragged down my stomach, tracing the outline of my arousal, never quite touching it directly.

"I'm going to use nothing but my feet tonight," she whispered, curling her toes into my mouth. "And you... you're not going to come. Not until I say so."

I moaned, muffled by her skin, as she began to move. Her feet took turns--one massaging my face, the other rubbing, sliding, teasing my cock through thin cloth. It was unbearable and perfect.

She never let up.

One moment, she'd push her toes into my mouth with a groan of pleasure, making me clean between them with my tongue. The next, her heel would grind against me, pressing simply hard enough to make me twitch, to make me ache.

"You're so easy like this," she purred. "Tied down, silenced, desperate to come just from my feet."

She slid her sole down my chest, between my thighs, and hovered--hovered--right at the edge.

Then she pulled away.

Again.

And again.

"Beg with your tongue," she said. "Maybe then I'll reward you."

A Guest at the Altar

I was already tied when I heard the knock.

My wrists were bound behind my back again, legs spread wide and secured to the corners of the bed. Carol had made sure I was fully exposed--naked, vulnerable, and gagged softly with a silk scarf she'd slipped between my lips, tight enough to keep me quiet but not enough to muffle the heat in my breath.

She'd kissed my forehead and whispered, "Be still. She's going to love this."

I didn't know what she meant--until I heard the sound of a second set of heels entering the room.

"Danielle," Carol called out sweetly. "He's ready."

My heart thudded.

Danielle stepped into view with a smile like sin. Dark eyes trailing over me, taking in my state. Her jeans clung to her hips, and she peeled off her jacket casually before turning to Carol. "Wow. You weren't kidding."

Carol walked to the edge of the bed and stood beside me, barefoot, confident, glowing with power. "He's been good. Desperate. Devoted. I thought it was time someone saw just how far he goes for me."

Danielle tilted her head, intrigued. "And you say... he loves your feet?"

Carol stepped up onto the bed and slowly lowered one foot onto my chest. "Loves them? Worships them. Like a shrine."

Danielle smirked. "Prove it."

Carol didn't hesitate. She brought her foot to my face, pressing her arch to my lips. "Lick," she commanded.

And I obeyed. My tongue traced the curve of her sole, tasting her skin. Danielle sat down in a nearby chair, crossing her legs, eyes fixed on me.

"He cleans them like a tongue-washed blessing," Carol said with a wicked grin. "I walked barefoot in the garden earlier just for him."

Danielle raised an eyebrow. "And what about mine?"

Carol looked back. "He hasn't earned that yet."

Then she leaned over me. "But maybe... if he impresses you."

She shifted, straddling my chest, and pressed both feet to my face, making me alternate between arches and toes. Her heels dug softly into my skin, reminding me of my place. I moaned into the silk, aching with humiliation and arousal.

Danielle moved closer, resting her bare feet on the edge of the bed. "May I?"

Carol nodded. "Let him smell you first."

Danielle lifted one foot and brushed it gently across my face. It was different--lighter, floral, unfamiliar but intoxicating. I whimpered, overwhelmed.

"He's such a good toy," Danielle purred. "I see the appeal."

Carol laughed. "Oh, this is only the beginning."

Then she leaned in, whispering into my ear. "Tonight, you don't belong to just me. You're ours."

Two Goddesses, One Servant

I could barely breathe through the desire and tension straining my entire body.

Carol stood over me, one foot still on my chest, the other pressing to my lips as she looked down at me with a gaze that burned. Danielle now sat at the foot of the bed, barefoot, slowly untying her hair and smiling like a queen about to be worshipped.

"You ready for him?" Carol asked.

Danielle stretched her legs, her soles already within reach. "Oh, I'm more than ready. I want to see what he can do with both of us."

Carol gave a devilish little laugh. "Then let's break him."

She moved to straddle my face, knees on either side of my head, both feet now hovering above me, one resting lightly on my cheek, the other placed between my lips.

Meanwhile, Danielle climbed up from the foot of the bed and knelt over my thighs, her bare soles sliding up my legs, slowly teasing the inside of my thighs, her toes brushing over my aching cock with an unbearable lightness.

"God, he's hard already," Danielle whispered, grinning. "And he hasn't even touched anyone."

"Because we don't let him," Carol said, moaning as I sucked her toes deeper. "This is all he gets."

I licked her sole with long, slow strokes, her sweat now familiar, sacred. She ground her heel softly against my chin, guiding my mouth to where she wanted it.

Danielle's feet became more demanding. One slid under my balls, lifting and nudging them, the other pressed teasingly along the length of my shaft, back and forth in lazy strokes.

My hips bucked--instinctively.

"Uh-uh," Carol scolded, slapping my chest lightly with her toes. "You don't move unless we say. Danielle?"

Danielle pressed her feet down, pinning my hips. "Got him."

Together, they worked in tandem--Carol feeding me her soles and toes, grinding gently into my face while moaning with satisfaction. Danielle massaged and teased me with her feet like a slow, sensual art form, alternating between cruelty and reward.

"You love being used like this, don't you?" Carol whispered, dragging her heel over my lips.

Danielle laughed softly. "No hands. No cock. Just tongues and feet."

Their laughter tangled together above me as they turned me into their toy, their worshipper, their utterly controlled servant.

I was floating in the center of them--my body burning, my pride surrendered, my desire enslaved by two goddesses who ruled me with nothing but their bare feet and wicked intentions.

The Cage and the Café

The click of the lock was louder than I expected.

Carol knelt in front of me, smiling with gentle finality as she fastened the small steel chastity cage around my cock. "There," she whispered, brushing her fingers over the metal. "Now you belong to us. Fully. No more slipping. No more begging."

Behind her, Danielle sipped her coffee, lounging barefoot on the couch, toes painted a wicked crimson. "Oh, he's going to be so obedient now," she said, wiggling her toes.

Carol turned, standing. "He has to be."

She stepped closer to me, cupping my chin. "This cage doesn't come off until we decide. Understand?"

I nodded, breath shallow.

"Good. Now get dressed. We're taking you out."

Later that day -- a café patio, early afternoon

The sun was warm. People walked by. No one noticed how hard it was for me to sit still, the cage tight and unforgiving beneath my jeans, the scent of Carol and Danielle's bare feet teasing me like perfume.

They sat across from me, sandals off, toes flexing openly under the table. Danielle's foot brushed mine, then slid deliberately between my legs.

"Still locked?" she asked sweetly, sipping iced tea.

"Yes," I murmured.

"Still aching?" Carol added, raising an eyebrow.

I nodded.

She smiled. "Good. Because you're going to be a perfect gentleman today. Carry our bags. Hold doors. Stay focused. And if you so much as stare at our feet the wrong way--"

Danielle cut in, smirking. "We'll take you into the bathroom. Not to unlock you. Just to edge you while you beg."

My heart thudded. I squirmed.

Carol leaned forward, dropping her foot gently into my lap. "Don't make a sound. Smile for the waitress."

I did.

Her toes pressed into the cage, grinding just enough to make my thighs twitch. Danielle reached beneath the table too, both of them now playing with me in broad daylight, using only their feet and my submission as their weapon.

"You're ours," Carol whispered. "Even here. Even now. And everyone around us has no idea that you're caged and desperate, with your key hanging from my ankle."

She lifted her foot slightly. The key glinted, dangling from a thin gold chain against her skin.

"Finish your coffee," Danielle added, curling her toes around my shin. "Then we'll go shoe shopping. And you'll carry everything."

Edge Without End

The shopping bags were still scattered by the door, but they didn't care.

They pushed me to my knees as soon as we walked inside. Carol locked the door, barefoot already. Danielle had kicked her flats off, stretching her toes in long, luxurious motions as she dropped onto the couch.

"Take his shirt off," Carol said.

Danielle snapped her fingers, and I obeyed. I knelt shirtless, breathing hard, the chastity cage cruelly tight from hours of stimulation without relief. My jeans were unzipped, my erection straining helplessly inside the steel.

"Look how swollen he is," Danielle cooed, running a toe lightly along the bulge. "He's practically pleading."

"I think he needs another reminder of who owns him," Carol said, taking a seat beside her and slipping her foot under my chin. "Kiss."

I did. I kissed her heel, then her sole, tasting the city on her skin. Her foot was warm, dominant, scented with faint leather and sweat. I dragged my tongue across her arch, lips trailing up each toe.

Danielle's foot pressed against the cage, rubbing slowly back and forth.

"You know," she said casually, "I've never had a man this obedient. It's kind of addictive."

"Mm," Carol nodded. "He's been trained well. But now he's caged, he's ours."

She reached down and unlocked nothing--just tugged the cage gently, letting the pressure tease me even further.

"I want him edged," she said.

Danielle turned her full attention to me, shifting forward and laying both feet in my lap. Her toes slid under the cage, massaging me through the bars, slow and steady. I whimpered.

"Not too fast," Carol warned. "He needs to suffer for it."

So, they took their time. Minutes blurred. Carol fed me her feet--each toe kissed and licked with reverence, while Danielle tortured me with slow foot jobs that never pushed me far enough. They would bring me close--then pull away. Again. And again.

My mind frayed.

I was lost in the rhythm of arches, the taste of skin, the metallic throb of the cage. Desperate for release. Held there by their feet and their power.

"You want out?" Carol whispered, teasing the key at her ankle.

I nodded frantically.

Danielle chuckled darkly. "Too bad."

Then they switched places.

Danielle filled my mouth with her soft, salty feet while Carol went to work on the cage, using her soles like tools of erotic cruelty. I twitched, helpless, moaning into toes I could barely breathe around.

"You're not coming tonight," Carol murmured. "Or tomorrow. Or the next day."

She leaned in, brushing my ear with her breath.

"You're ours, locked and worshipping, until we decide you've earned it."

The Reward

The days had blurred together--teasing, edging, aching.

They'd kept me locked the entire time. Every morning began with the same ritual: kneeling at their feet, lips on their toes, their voices soft and commanding. And every night ended in denial, their feet wrapped around me but never letting me come, only grinning as I writhed, begging behind my eyes.

By the fifth day, I had surrendered completely.

That evening, they sat me on the rug between them. The room was dimly lit, the scent of their skin in the air--warm, familiar, maddening. Carol dangled the small silver key from her ankle, letting it swing just out of reach.

Danielle leaned forward, barefoot, her toes resting on my thigh. "He's lasted long enough."

Carol studied me for a moment. Then, with a slow nod, she removed the chain and held the key up like a relic.

"You've earned this," she said. "But you'll come our way."

She knelt in front of me and unlocked the cage. The release was overwhelming--painful, thrilling, immediate. My cock sprang forward, flushed, and desperate, twitching with need.

Before I could even breathe, Danielle straddled my legs and pressed both soles into my lap. "Not so fast," she whispered.

Together, they began.

Carol sat behind me, her toes tracing the curve of my spine, hands resting on my shoulders to keep me grounded. Danielle leaned back slightly, and her feet wrapped around me, soft arches sliding along my length, slow and merciless.

"You don't touch," Carol whispered in my ear. "You don't thrust. You submit."

Danielle grinned. "And when you come... you come for us."

Her toes worked the head, slick and smooth, while her arches pumped steadily, bringing me to the edge with ease. Carol's feet crept around my sides, brushing my ribs, keeping me anchored in their world.

I moaned. My thighs trembled.

Danielle's pace increased. She rubbed her soles together tightly, surrounding me in heat, pressure, scent, and dominance.

"You're going to come," Carol whispered. "From our feet. Because that's what you are--a man trained to worship, to surrender, to release only when we say."

Danielle locked eyes with me, curling her toes around the tip. "Now."

I exploded. The pleasure surged through me like fire, my whole-body convulsing, hips shaking as I came harder than I ever had. Danielle didn't stop. Her feet milked every drop from me, slow and deliberate, while Carol held my shoulders and whispered praise and control in equal measure.

When it was done, they laid me back between them, their feet resting on my chest, my face, my lips.

"You did well," Carol said.

Danielle nodded. "Next time... we might make you wait even longer."