Losing Everything II (Full Story)

Thanks to everyone who believed in this story in the past, as they did with my other works. I hope everyone else will like it now.

The story is set one year after the events of the first work, many years before the epilogue and the time jump. As always the characters are 18+

Ch: 1

Summer was fast approaching but the morning air was still chilly, I felt my body shaking as I watched from the half-open window the city slowly awaken and I stood there, almost paralyzed for a few moments, watching in the street a young boy on a bicycle delivering newspapers, he could not have been more than twelve years old and, as normal at that age, no worries in his mind.

It was different for me, I was no longer a little girl and, above all, there were no longer my parents to shield me, protect me from the evil of the world, hugging and telling me that everything would be all right. I turned around and looked at some old photos on the wall of my gray and sad room. My parents were watching me with their usual smiles, they couldn't have imagined that their lives would be so short and that the fate of their precious daughter would be so tragic.

"But this life was chosen by me and only me, more than once" I said to myself, thinking back to the events of the last year, when everything had changed, when the old and noble Victoria Thomas had given way to that pathetic new girl who now could only live on memories of a past and happy time of love and wealth.

And where had it all gone? Love had melted like snow in the sun when I had been told of my parents's tragic demise and my family's wealth was now in the hands, or rather say feet, of my best friend. This time fate had nothing to do with it, it was myself who had given away everything I had, not only money and various real estate properties, but my very freedom and dignity.

My best friend, Megan Gilles, now owned everything, even my body and mind, and all thanks to my mad and incomprehensible love for her feet, which were so beautiful and noble that made that girl look like a Goddess come down to earth and who could now decide my life as she wished, with the mere snap of her fingers.

My gaze lingered on my cage, in the center of the room, the only furniture beyond the pictures on the wall, of what was once a room worthy of a Princess. I observed for a few moments the electronic lock, programmed to open automatically at 5 a. m. and thus allow me to leave the cage after a night spent often in the cold and in isolation. Inside, as always, there was only my pillow, which was nothing more than a pile of dirty socks that my Mistress kindly allowed me to use when I had behaved myself during the day. Megan knew very well that it was not a matter of comfort, she knew very well what her socks were worth to me and what I did with them in the middle of the night.

I had the strong temptation to re-enter the cage and dip my face into my Mistress's socks, but I knew it was late and Megan would soon be home, having finished her usual morning run. My gaze then rested on something new, which had been lying on the floor in my room for a few days, a letter addressed to me. I had read it many times, but I could not help but bend down on the floor to pick it up.

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Dear Victoria, I know that probably my name can only appear to you at first as one belonging to a stranger, but although we have never met, I think I know you very well from the stories of your wonderful mother, whom I have been fortunate enough to know for almost twenty years of my life.

I was deeply shaken when I heard of her tragic passing, unfortunately many months late, having moved to Europe and having almost no contact with my hometown. It took me as many months to decide to write to you; it is never easy to make certain speeches and not sound trite. But I still wanted to show you my affection and give you my support If you should you need it. I would be so glad to finally meet you and who knows, maybe for just a moment I can see in you again my dear friend who has done so much for me. I hope you will accept what I have sent you with this letter and I hope to see you soon.

Sincerely yours,

Stella

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My eyes rested on the plane ticket Stella had sent me; I had studied it for so long that I knew it by heart in every detail. It was undated, but with a very specific destination: Italy.

I had been pondering for days what to do, to go or not to go? I did not know that woman, and neither did she know me, that girl my mother had described to her so well, no longer existed. Part of me was curious to meet such a close friend of my mother and it certainly would have been nice to visit Italy. Another part of me, on the other hand, was afraid to meet new people and live outside of that prison I had locked myself in.

But fortunately it was not my place to decide, it hadn't been for a long time, Megan was there for that, she was in charge and she was the one who would once again choose my destiny. Then, as if I had almost invoked her with my thoughts, I heard Megan's voice calling to me from downstairs.

- Dog, where are you? -

I wasted no time, I ran downstairs to the front door and just before I got there, I got on all fours and crawled down the hallway, toward the entrance where my Mistress was patiently waiting for me. And there she was, as beautiful as ever, with her long, gorgeous black hair pulled back into a ponytail, her forehead slightly beaded with sweat and her cheeks slightly flushed from the run she had just taken. Her amber eyes immediately glimpsed me and a wonderful smile appeared on her beautiful lips, she was always so happy to see me crawling on all fours toward her, a devoted dog welcoming her Mistress by wagging her tail.

That day Megan had chosen a white top that struggled to contain her beautiful breasts and black leggings that had no doubt attracted many stares during her morning run. When I was inches from my old best friend, I prostrated myself at her feet and waited. After a few seconds, I felt the sole of her sneaker on my head, crushing my face into the ground. That was where I belonged; there was nothing that made me happier than to be prostrate under the feet of my Goddess, humble and submissive.

-Good morning dog, did you sleep well today? -

I knew well how to answer that question, at that moment I was not just a slave but a real pet.

- Woof woof - I barked and barked, triggering laughter from my Mistress who removed her foot from my head and grabbed one of my many leashes resting on a cabinet in the hall.

- Come on, let's go to the kitchen. I'm hungry and I'm pretty sweaty, it's starting to get hot out there - and so saying, Megan attached the leash to the collar that had been around my neck for more than a year now and led me down the hall.

What a sight we must have been, a brunette girl so pretty she could be on the front pages of fashion magazines and a blond girl, let me say also quite pretty, on her leash and completely naked. Yes, the rules hadn't changed in the last few months, I wasn't allowed to have clothes in the house, Megan always wanted to see her property without difficulty and said that being naked also helped me to be more humble and she always reminded me that I was nothing more than a filthy creeping worm at the feet of her superiors. By now I didn't even pay attention to being naked anymore, but then again, where did you ever see a dog with clothes on?

When we entered the kitchen, Megan made herself a sandwich and an orange juice before sitting down at the table and snapping her fingers. I knew well what that gesture meant. Without wasting any time, I crawled under the table and with my mouth I began working to remove the sneakers from my Mistress's feet. It was not an easy thing to do but by now I had done it so many times that I succeeded in less than a minute. As soon as Megan's feet were free of their "prison" I was hit by the intense smell that I loved madly and that had turned the once beautiful and powerful Victoria Thomas into a pathetic dog with a dangling tongue, in ecstasy over her old best friend's feet. I began to sniff relentlessly at Megan's white socks, with no more inhibitions and not thinking for a second about my dignity, now gone, crushed under the soles of my owner.

- First the shoes - Megan said, with her mouth still full and with a quick movement she put her foot on my head and crushed my face inside one of her shoes.

I sniffed the inside of the sneaker fiercely, losing myself in that wonderful aroma. I heard Megan giggle, and shortly thereafter she began to play with the other foot, rubbing it against the part of my face not completely covered by her shoe. I could feel just how moist her socks were, and honestly I couldn't wait to be able to taste them in my mouth, slowly extracting that precious nectar of the gods.

- That's enough, dog. Take off my socks and clean my feet -

I would not have stopped smelling those shoes so easily if my new task had not been so intriguing. With my mouth I removed the sweaty socks from my Mistress's feet, being careful not to use my teeth, and reluctantly I put them inside her shoes, hoping to enjoy them later. But now came my favorite moment, and Megan knew it. She pulled hard on my leash, forcing me to look up at her, who was looking down at me with those wonderful eyes.

- Dog, you are so happy that you can lick my feet, aren't you?-

- Woof -

- Are you happy that you can remove the sweat and dirt accumulated between my toes with your

tongue? -

- Woof -

- Are you happy to be a dog on your best friend's leash in what was once your home? -

- Woof woof woof - I kept barking nonstop, Megan knew which spots to touch and knew there was nothing that excited me more than being reminded how low I had fallen, how pathetic I had become.

Once I used to sit at that table with my family, a butler and other servants serving us dinner, and I felt like a princess, with a wonderful life ahead of her. I imagined that one day, after inheriting Thomas Manor I would be sitting at that same table with my dashing husband and beautiful children. Never would I have imagined that I would no longer own that place and that I would no longer be able to eat at that table. Certainly never could I have imagined that my fate was to be under it, licking the feet of the new owner of Thomas Manor, of that same girl who had dined there so many times as a guest and who now owned everything, even her old and no longer rich best friend, now nothing but her miserable dog.

- Well, now clean your owner's feet, dog - Megan finally said, giving me a little kick in the face that was her signal to begin my work.

My heart began to pound wildly as I stuck out my tongue and slowly brought my face closer to the soft soles of my Mistress. When my tongue touched her sweaty skin, a quiver went through my whole body and, closing my eyes almost in ecstasy, I began to give endless laps to those wonderful feet. It didn't matter at all that I had licked Megan's soles thousands of times during that year of slavery, when my tongue was at her feet, it was always like the first time, an endless series of emotions ravaging my body and mind, chaining me more and more to my friend's will, transforming me like a desperate junkie looking for her daily dose. And there it was, my drug, that footsweat that I greedily collected with my tongue as it tirelessly moved along Megan's feet, from her incredibly soft heels all the way up to the middle of her toes, where my tongue quickly darted, there where the flavor was most intense, there where I wanted to be for the rest of my life.

Megan meanwhile continued to eat, not caring about the dog under the table who fulfilled its duty expertly and tirelessly. Only when she wanted my tongue somewhere else on her feet, Megan would simply pull my leash and bring now her heel, now her arches, now her big toe, which I could only put in my mouth and suck on like a baby's pacifier. That day my Mistress wore pink nail polish, it was not my favorite but it was still wonderful on her and I was bewitched watching her toes as I continued my work.

- I think that would do for now. Slave, lie down and keep your mouth open, I need a footstool while I tell you what I have decided about that Stella -

- Yes, oh my Mistress - I replied immediately, my time as a dog was over and my Mistress needed her slave now.

I immediately obeyed the orders I had been given and lay down with my back on the floor and my face under the feet of my Mistress who did not lose time to rest them on it. I opened my mouth as I had been told to do and I knew very well what was going to happen. Megan forcefully put almost her entire right heel inside my mouth while her left foot rested on the other, weighing down on my face and lips.

- So... I have decided that we will go to this nice lady. She seems really eager to meet you and I am very curious about Italy. However, I have no intention of staying a few weeks without a servant, or hiding while using you. That's why I had a brilliant idea -

"Brilliant idea?" I wondered curiously as I continued to listen to Megan's melodious voice, her feet that were always on my face were beginning to sweat, and as some of that sweat slid directly into my mouth to my delight. I couldn't help but sniff, though risking distraction on more than one occasion.

- The idea is this, for as long as we are in Italy I will be Victoria Thomas and you a servant of mine. You see, I talked to this Stella by phone to figure some things out and I found out that she has never seen you, not even a picture. She doesn't know what your face looks like or even the color of your hair, in fact she asked me if you had "my" mother's blond hair or "my" father's black hair. So it's perfect, we will enjoy Italy without having to hide completely. Of course, you won't be able to lick my feet every hour of the day and night, but you can still have the honor of serving me in some other, more conventional way, let's say. What do you say, do you like the idea, slave?

- Yes Mistress - that's what I tried to say, of course my words were incompressible given the situation I was in, but Megan understood anyway, after all I couldn't have said otherwise, she was the Mistress and I her humble slave, her word was law to me.

- Very well, we will leave in three days. I'm going to take a shower, you start packing. If you are good you can play with my socks later - and saying that, Megan stood up and dropped my leash on the floor.

"At your command, oh my Mistress" I thought as my old friend was already on the stairs and I slowly emerged from under the table, with a strong temptation to sink my face once more into her shoes and savor those sweat-soaked socks I had been promised.

Ch: 2

The JFK international airport was as crowded as all the other times I had been there, an anthill swarming with people running here and there with their suitcases, many in fear of missing the flight that would take them to their wonderful vacation they had dreamed of for who knows how long, others bored as they waited for a flight just to be somewhere for some business meeting.

We had arrived at the airport in advance and could do nothing but kill the time by looking around the various stores in the terminal. Megan didn't buy anything even though she liked several things, but I guess she didn't want to load up on too much stuff before a long trip. On the other hand, I barely looked at the expensive clothes and beautiful perfumes displayed in the shops. I used to love shopping, but now things were very different, I had no money and Megan's words had been inculcated in my brain by now: "a property cannot own anything, it can only be owned"

I was a slave, I was the property of another human being and could no longer own anything of my own, but only carry what my Mistress chose for me. Almost without noticing it, my hands brushed against my collar, Megan had decided that I would only remove it when we landed in Italy and replace it with a more anonymous necklace that would continue to remind me of my place and that I was hers.

The flight was going to be long, and so I asked Megan's permission to be able to buy a magazine that I could read while waiting.

- Get one for me too, I will have another look in this shoe store -

Having gotten her permission, I entered the store and began flipping through a few magazines. My eyes lingered on a girl who had something familiar. Her face was unknown to me, but there was something about the girl that attracted me like a magnet and gave me the distinct feeling that I knew her. I watched her as she looked around, then suddenly dropped some magazines on the floor and bent down to pick them up. I was quicker.

- Thank you - the girl said to me in a whisper.

- You're welcome - I said smiling at her, as if to comfort the shy girl.

We looked into each other's eyes a few seconds, once again I had the feeling that I had a strange connection with her, but I couldn't figure out what it was. Then I heard Megan's voice calling my name.

- Vicky hurry up! -

The unknown girl and I turned around at the same time and we both looked at Megan a few meters away.

- Yes Miss - I answered immediately and smiling one last time at that girl who was younger than me by 2 or 3 years at most, I ran to my Mistress without looking back, ready for the new adventure that awaited us.

Of course, we were in first class on the plane and I suspected that Megan would not miss the opportunity to "humiliate" me in some way as soon as the curtains hid us from the view of the other passengers and cabin crew. I must confess that I was actually hoping for that, and my Mistress did not disappoint my hopes.

- Give me your wrists, slave - Megan said in a low voice and with disbelief I saw her pull a pair of handcuffs out of her backpack.

I did not have time to wonder when she had gone to a sex shop to buy those things and here she was already pulling out a small rope and then she said:

- Your ankles now -

After a few minutes I was totally immobilized... and aroused. But Megan was certainly not done and from her backpack, which seemed to have infinite space, she pulled out some long stockings I had seen her wear a few days before and some earplugs. I had figured out her game, so I was not surprised when my sight and hearing were taken away shortly thereafter. I couldn't help but try to sniff the stockings covering my eyes but my Mistress took one of my earplug out for a second and whispered :

- Don't worry, you will have a lot to smell and taste -

Then I lost the ability to hear again and I lay still, waiting for Megan to finish her work. It took several minutes and only at the end of the trip, seeing the photos and videos my Mistress had taken, I was able to fully understand what she had done. First my old friend had put no less than two pairs of her panties on my head, and inside that perverted mask that covered my face, she then inserted numerous socks that she had used for running in those days. My sense of smell was pervaded by different but very intense odors, and I couldn't help but start sniffing deeply. Maybe I was making too much noise, maybe I was even moaning so Megan decided to mute me by filling my mouth as well. It was something thin and very wet, it was not her stockings, of that I was certain. I knew what it was when my tongue began to explore that damp fabric and my arousal grew more and more. Immobilized, deprived of sight and hearing, with my Mistress's panties on my mouth, I wondered how I was going to last all those hours and especially what would happen if a flight attendant came over for a drink or something like that.

"It's not my job to think, I just have to obey. My Mistress will think of everything" I thought for a moment, before going back to greedily sucking my lady's panties and sniffing her socks that were my only source of oxygen.

Alone in that silent and stinking prison in the clouds, as our plane flew at high speed toward Europe, time began to slow down and with it my pulse, my eyelids became heavy as boulders, and, I don't know how long afterward, I fell into a deep sleep. I never knew what really happened in the hours I was asleep, I don't know if Megan had had any trouble keeping me hidden and if so I had always wondered how she had managed it. Or maybe, and thinking about this other hypothesis always excited me greatly, she hadn't had to and hadn't cared at all about keeping our secret and had shown me to the flight attendant, revealing the pathetic creature I had become.

The Airport of Rome was as crowded as the one we had left from, but the stores were quite different and I could already smell the wonderful Italian food wafting through the air, making all those travelers suddenly happier.

"And the airport food is but a pale imitation" I thought as I remembered the trip to Italy I took when I was a child with my parents, one of the most wonderful experiences of my life, walking among the wonders of imperial Rome together with the people I loved most in the world.

But Rome would not be our destination that time; Stella lived on the east coast of Sicily, so we would have to take another plane to Catania. After finding our gate and making sure we were well ahead of schedule, Megan told me she needed the restroom so together we passed infront of a Ferrari store and found the restroom on the left. I was about to tell my lady that I would wait for her outside the door when she instead murmured in my ear:

- Go inside and get on your knees, slave -

My body was shaken by shivers, the fear of being discovered in public places was always something that had great effect on me and Megan knew it well, perhaps she had already sensed it from that first time she had taken me to the movies, that time when I had ended up being the footstool of my old maid who had been the second person in the world to be aware of my new status, to know how low the powerful princess of the Thomas family had fallen.

As soon as we were both in the small, thankfully clean, bathroom stall, I knelt on the floor and watched my Mistress sit on the toilet bowl after putting toilet paper on it,

- Take off my boots, it is hot here and in Sicily it will be even worse. Open your backpack and take my flip-flops - Megan said softly, it didn't seem to be anyone in the toilets besides us but you could never tell.

I hurried to obey her order just as my lady began to empty her bladder. When I removed her boots, I was careful not to let Megan's feet rest on the ground so they wouldn't get dirty. Of course I couldn't help but notice the difference between us, she was too precious to even touch that floor with her feet, on the other hand I was kneeling on it and it didn't matter if it was dirty or not, that was where I belonged and I would have knelt at my Mistress's feet even if there was a puddle of urine on the floor. I placed Megan's feet on my shoulders as I searched her backpack for her flip-flops and soon I was hit by the usual smell that I loved so much. I was tempted to sniff but knew I had to be quick, we would not be alone in that bathroom much longer and I was already shaking at the thought of what the other women might think if they saw us both coming out of the same stall.

- Take off my socks and give them to me, slave -

Once again I obeyed without wasting time and after removing my Mistress' black socks, I gave them to her as I had been ordered to do.

- Open your mouth -

When my mouth was full, I could not help but begin to enjoy intensely that gift I had just been given. I knew I would have to keep those socks in my mouth for the rest of the trip, as Megan informed me shortly afterward, but I couldn't help but be happy about that. After all, I was not supposed to talk to anyone, I was clumsy and above all I was a slave, not worthy of opening my mouth in the presence of my Mistress.

After a few seconds, I put the flip-flops on Megan's feet and without her telling me, I prostrated myself deeply and began to kiss her feet, almost as if to thank her for being able to serve her once again, for having her beside me on that trip, for being my best friend in spite of everything.

Megan let me do it, pleased with my obedience and perhaps she was mentally adding that bathroom to the long list of places she had put her old friend under her feet, a girl who unlike her had always had everything in life, a loving family and immense wealth. How things had changed now, how far that little girl who had grown up in an orphanage, alone and in poverty, had come. And who knows what Sister Mary would have said if she had seen her at that moment, after telling her, hundreds of times, to stay away from Victoria Thomas, that she didn't belong there and that she would never be like those people. In the end, Sister had not been wrong, Megan was not like me... she was better than me, in every way and I was very lucky to be able to grovel at her feet, to serve her and worship her like the Goddess she was.

Ch: 3

As soon as we left Catania Fontanarossa airport, we found a car waiting for us. Stella was not present but the driver told us that she would be waiting for us at her home and that a delicious dinner was waiting for us as well, news that, needless to say, immediately put us in a good mood.

It did not take us long to arrive in the beautiful Taormina, a town situated on a hilltop with a breathtaking view of the magnificent sea below and on the horizon the imposing volcano Etna that was particularly active in those days, as Guido, the driver, who spoke a good English but with an obvious Italian accent, told us. Indeed, from the top of the mountain, about three thousand meters high, there was a faint column of smoke and I wondered if at night we would be able to glimpse the flow of lava in the distance.

Stella's villa was just outside the town center, the entrance was quite anonymous but its secret was the view. Entirely built into the rock, that house could have been a small but rich 5-star hotel. The lady of the house greeted us cheerfully and I could not help but be fascinated by that woman.

Stella had gone to college with my mother so she must have been about 40 years old, but she looked at least 10 years younger. She had long, straight black hair that reached her shoulders, thin lips with red lipstick, large, curious brown eyes with long lashes and cheeks flushed from blush. Of course, my gaze couldn't help but fall almost immediately on her long legs and feet, where I noticed gorgeous black stiletto shoes of a well-known Italian brand. The woman hardly paid any attention to me at all, in her eyes I was nothing more than Megan/Victoria's maid, and after warmly embracing my friend pretending to be me, Stella quickly showed my Mistress her beautiful home, which she had purchased about ten years earlier when she had moved from the United States after selling her company that had been very successful in the stock market, guaranteeing her a sum with which to live in luxury for a couple of centuries.

- You don't look much like your mother, I remember her well in college, I loved her golden hair. You must surely take after your father, a very handsome man -

Stella was conversing with Megan on the large terrace overlooking the beautiful Sicilian sea, the two women were sitting on a comfortable sofa and having a classic Italian aperitivo. Shortly before I had been sent to unpack and upon my return, from the excerpt of conversation I had overheard, I could not help but notice how Stella was still studying Megan and for a moment it almost seemed as if the woman had cast a furtive glance in my direction.

"I must have just imagined it" I said to myself, pushing back that fear that our perverse game would be discovered and that Stella would figure out who I really was. How could I explain it then? Why would any sane person pretend to be her friend's servant and hide her true identity from a woman who had so warmly invited her into her home, thousands of miles away?

My thoughts were soon interrupted, however, by the voice of Megan, who, noticing my presence, called me next to her to give me a few more orders... but she did not have the time.

- So this is your maid, she is very pretty... and young - Stella said, staring at me intently for the first time since I had set foot in that house. Then, slowly drinking her Negroni, her long legs crossed sensually, she continued - She must be about the same age as you, Victoria, isn't she? It's not that she used to be a classmate of yours? - and so saying she burst out laughing and something trembled inside me, that woman was incredible and Megan herself, always so strong, seemed uncomfortable.

- Oh no, not at all. Sure, we are exactly the same age but she had been out of school for quite some time. You know, she is not the brightest person in the world - Megan replied after a few moments, she seemed to have recovered quickly and for a moment I breathed a sigh of relief, my Mistress seemed to have everything under control once again -

- And so you chose a job where you didn't have to think, didn't you... um what's your name girl? -

If lightning had fallen a meter away it would have been less scary for me, I wasn't ready to be an active part of the conversation and honestly didn't even know what to answer. I tried to stammer something, realizing that I was stupid not to have thought of a name to use before meet Stella. The first thing that came to my mind was "Megan" but something held me back; I did not want to use my Mistress' s precious name. Fortunately, my owner came to my rescue, saying:

- Jane, her name is Jane -

- You were so right, using her brain is not really her thing - Stella said while I, who was blushing intensely with shame, could not help but think of my old maid who had so enjoyed humiliating me after discovering that the Mistress she had served for so long had been enslaved by her own best friend.

- I am sorry - I finally said, not even knowing why I was apologizing. But I didn't even have time to think about it because Stella went back on the attack mode.

- I hope you are at least good doing what you are told to do, since you seem to be pretty dumb. Oh dear, struggling even remember your own name. Pardon me for saying so, dear Victoria, but I wouldn't hire such a servant even to shine my boots.

Needless to say, those words had a tremendous effect on me, and almost immediately in my mind a daydream came to life in which I was Stella's scullery maid, I was kneeling in front of my Mistress, shining her luxurious boots while the woman was sipping a drink, on that beautiful terrace, enjoying the Sicilian sun. I quickly realized that I was very wet between my legs and could not help but look at Megan for help, hoping intensely that my Mistress would understand my situation. My friend's help was not long in coming, albeit in her own way.

- Jane has still a lot to learn, but she is more loyal than a dog and would not hesitate for a second to bring a ball back to me on all fours if I ordered her to -

I honestly would have hoped for something different, being compared to a dog was not the best thing in the world in front of someone like Stella who already thought of me as some kind of retard. But by now the damage was done and I was hardly surprised when I heard the woman say:

- Oh really? Let's see her in action then, shall we? I don't have a dog ball, hmm, so what could I use? -

Stella began to look around for something she could throw away so that the dog, that was me, would bring it back to her. I pleaded with Megan with my eyes, begged her to intervene, to do something to prevent that humiliation. But even my Mistress seemed fascinated by that brazen woman, and perhaps a part of her did not want to be defeated on that strange confrontation, did not want Stella to disprove what she had just said.

"I guess I'll have to be the best dog in the world not to make my Mistress look bad" I thought sadly and fully aware that in the competition between the two, I would be the one to come out with broken bones.

- Ah there you go, I think this one will do - Stella exclaimed a few seconds later and I saw her pick up a cigarette which she rolled a couple of times in her hand - Let's see if you were right, order your servant to bring the cigarette back to me like a trained dog - and so saying she threw it a couple of meters away.

I saw the cigarette rolling, almost in slow motion, time seemed to have stopped. Was I really going to do such a thing? Was I really going to act like a dog in front of Stella not even two hours after I had set foot in her house? No matter how many miles separated me from Thomas Manor, no matter that I had concealed my true identity, no matter that I was standing in front of a stranger, despite everything my fate was still the same.

"I'm probably really a dog," I said to myself, thinking that I couldn't escape my fate, no matter how hard I tried to be a different person, everyone seemed to understand right away how pathetic I was.

- Do as the landlady ordered you - Megan suddenly said and I knew I could not disobey.

Not daring to turn my gaze toward Stella, I slowly got down on all fours and crawled toward the cigarette, which I picked up with my mouth, as I had done so many times with my Mistress's slippers. I couldn't help but notice how different the taste was, and this time I had to fight not to vomit. Despite that, the worst part was yet to come and I crawled toward Stella, totally humiliated and aroused at the same time and once again I could only curse myself for being so pathetic. When I handed her the part of the cigarette that was not between my lips, I had to look into her eyes. The woman was incredible, she was not at all shocked by what I had done but she was very smug and for a moment I glimpsed desire in her eyes, I was like a gazelle before a hungry lioness.

- I'm tired, jet lag is starting to show its effects, maybe we'd better go to bed, Jane - Megan said getting up and saving me from that look so intense it froze the blood in my veins.

- Sleep well, tomorrow is going to be a long day - the hostess told us, saying goodbye and returning to her drink, her gaze on the full moon reflecting in the sea below us and the mind lost on thousand sweet thoughts.

Ch: 4

The next morning I woke up as I had done so many times before, at the foot of my lady's bed, with her soles pressed against my face and my nose between her toes. It was always so relaxing to spend the night at Megan's feet, falling asleep slowly breathing in that familiar smell, closing my eyes and letting her soles caress my face until Morpheus took me into his arms. And the morning after it was even better, coming back to reality and being right where you had dreamed of being all night, under the covers, wrapped in a warm embrace by the feet of my Goddess.

Megan used to wake up after me and so I had often plenty of time to enjoy those moments of peace and quiet, worshiping my lady silently as I waited for her to wake up. When it was time to get up, I knew just how to start well my old best friend's day and at the same time appease my appetite.

That morning in Stella's guest room was no different, and as I began to gently lick my Mistress's feet, I was lost for several minutes in another world. I had wondered many times if sooner or later I would get tired of that adoration, of that taste that on par with the smell had made me a slave without willpower, but defeating that addiction seemed almost as impossible as swimming in the ocean depths where the pressure destroys every single cell in your body.

I would remain a slave for the rest of my life, I was increasingly aware of this, Megan and her feet had put more than a collar around my neck, they had chained my soul forever, erasing the mind of Victoria Thomas and shaping a new being at the will of my one and only owner.

My tongue moved elegantly along all of Megan's soles, savoring every inch, trying to return to her with that act of love and adoration all that I felt for her. Only when my tongue began to dart between her toes Megan begin to wake up, stretching slowly and almost risking kicking my face, something I was used to by now. At night I would often wake up after an unintentional kick in the face from my Mistress, but while painful, I had never wished to be anywhere else, and the times I was instead forced to sleep alone in my sad room, inside my cold cage, I did nothing but dream of my lady, dream of her coming to wake me up in the middle of the night and saying she needed me, her humble, pathetic but also faithful slave.

- Good morning slave, did you sleep well? - Megan said to me, continuing to enjoy the work of my expert tongue.

- Yes Mistress, as always when I have the honor of sleeping at your divine feet - I replied covering them with kisses.

- Today is going to be a hard day, this Stella is a tough one and something tells me that after last night's show she will be looking for a few more opportunities to test your devotion to me. I just wonder if she is so bossy even with her servants -

- I don't know Mistress, I only know that I will do what you tell me to do, as always -

Megan did not answer, closed her eyes again, and while a thousand thoughts crowded her mind I continued to adore my owner, hoping not to disappoint her in the next few hours.

Stella was already eating her breakfast when we arrived in the kitchen, the scent of a beautiful Sicilian brioche had wafted through the air and immediately my mouth watered. The hostess, whom we were observing from behind, was wearing a blue silk robe, and once again I could not help but admire the perfect legs of this forty-year-old woman. Then, as my gaze slid further and further down, I saw her bare feet for the first time. They were not as perfect as my Mistress's, I could see a small callus in the ball of her left foot, but they were still beautiful and very well cared for. Following Megan as she took her place to Stella's right, I could look at her feet from another angle and this time I could also admire her gorgeous toes which had a white nail polish that contrasted nicely with her lightly tanned skin and for a moment my mouth was watering for something other than that delicious brioche.

- Oh dear Victoria, you absolutely must try this almond granita, you won't find anywhere else in the world such a thing - Stella said to Megan, ignoring me completely and once again I felt deeply humiliated, almost as if I wasn't even worthy to be in that woman's presence.

- Jane - Megan said at one point, snapping her fingers and signaling me to serve her the breakfast Stella was offering.

- Yes Miss - I said hurrying to obey.

I stood silently and with my hands behind my back watching the two women eat and converse happily, ready to serve when they needed me, like a good servant. Every now and then my eyes could only return to study Stella's feet, and I almost felt guilty that I was neglecting my lady.

"My place should be under the table so she can use my face as a footrest," I thought, remembering all the times I had served my Mistress that way.

At one point my gaze and Stella's met; I had just stared intently, for the umpteenth time, at her feet and feared I had been caught because the woman smiled mischievously and I sensed that intense desire again as I had the night before. Stella went back to talking to Megan, but her feet under the chair began to move restlessly, almost like a hypnotic dance that was capturing me with each rotation of her foot, each wiggling of her toes.

Part of me wanted to give in, to fall to the floor and crawl like a worm toward her, to prostrate myself before her and beg Stella to kiss those wonderful feet, to serve her in any way she wished. But I belonged to Megan, I could not do what I wanted, I could not embarrass her. Megan had accepted Stella's invitation for a reason, she thought it was important to have a friendship with such a rich woman, I certainly couldn't let my sick passions drag me down and ruin everything.

"Just breathe and think about something else, you'll see that everything will be fine," I said to myself, but that was much easier said than done.

Ch: 5

Unlike what we thought, we did not visit the beautiful city of Taormina that morning. Stella had already made other plans and her driver took all three of us to the coast, specifically to the beach of Sant'Alessio.

The place still looked deserted, but Stella informed us that it would not remain so for much longer; Italians used to have a nice breakfast before going to the beach and many of them were famous for having a hearty lunch on the beach, and probably this had given rise to the equally famous order that mothers gave their children, to wait a good three hours after lunch before diving back into the sea. I do not know to this day whether or not the Italian children respected that rule, having always stayed a few hours on the beach and not having been able to see with my own eyes whether what I had been told was really true, but of one thing I am certain, if there is a paradise on earth this must be in Italy and the Italians knew it well.

I could not write down exactly what the famous "dolce vita" means, but observing the Italians in those days, I understood that they lived differently, almost as if the hectic passage of time was slowed down in that place where family was the most important thing. Grandparents playing on the beach with their grandchildren, middle-aged brothers and sisters with their respective families sunbathing together, such a family reunion that in my country perhaps happens only during Thanksgiving or Christmas and that there, in Sicily, instead it was as common as eating an immense cold watermelon on the beach, strictly divided among all the many family members.

The beach, located just below the picturesque castle of Sant'Alessio Siculo, was composed of a mix of pebbles and very fine black sand. Bathing establishments were also present, but Stella pointed us to the long stretch of public beach. Guido, the driver, pulled two folding sunbeds and an umbrella out of the wide trunk of the car, which were placed a few meters from the sea. I knew that I had once again been left out, but I did not care; I was happy to be in that wonderful place with Megan and nothing could ruin my day, not even Stella.

The woman wasted no time and soon began again to test my obedience to my lady.

- Victoria, my dear, why don't you order your scullery maid to put on us the sunscreen? You know, it's better no joking with the Sicilian sun, it's very easy to get sunburned and it's certainly not good for the skin. You don't want to have a face full of wrinkles when you're my age, do you? -

Megan could do nothing but snap her fingers and I already knew what to do. I was very aroused as my hands began to move gently over my Mistress's perfect body, and it didn't matter that I had done this so many times before as Megan relaxed by the side of what used to be my pool.

First I smeared the cream on her back, up and down, slowly enjoying that moment in the service of my Mistress, trying to ignore the curious gaze of Stella who, I was sure, did not miss a moment of that sensual massage despite the fact that her eyes were hidden behind expensive sunglasses. Of course, it was harder to hide my excitement when it came time to touch my best friend's most precious parts for me, and as I began to spread the cream over her thighs, coming dangerously close to the object of my desire, those divine feet, I noticed that I was sweating profusely.

Megan also noticed my nervousness, she knew it was because of Stella who did not stop for a moment from watching us intensely. I wondered if Megan actually suspected that I was also "excited" about something else. I cannot deny that I was looking forward to being able to serve Stella directly, to touch that body that did not seem to suffer at all from the passage of time. My eyes, perhaps for the first time as I massaged my Mistress's legs, drifted away from my Goddess to surreptitiously observe Stella.

"I can't believe this woman went to college with my mother, she looks so young and is so hot..."

I tried not to be distracted by my perverse thoughts and to serve my Mistress as best I could. Megan meanwhile was observing a handsome boy on a sup board who seemed to have abs of steel that contracted with each paddle. Was that jealousy I was feeling? Was I afraid that Megan would cast me aside because of a man, or was I jealous because I could not be like all the other girls and desire normal things? No, I had been condemned by fate to love something that normal people hate... feet. And that wasn't enough for someone like me, the dirtier and smellier they were, the more I liked them, losing all inhibitory restraint and turning me into a beast incapable of reasoning but governed only by his sexual urges, ending up being what I had become, a pathetic creature who with each humiliation was more and more a slave to her desires and to her old best friend who had exploited those desires to her advantage.

- I think I'll go for a swim now. Stella, go ahead and enjoy Jane's expert hands and then I want your opinion about her work - Megan said as she stood up and practically handed me over to the woman who seemed to be waiting for nothing more than to have me in her clutches.

I approached the woman cautiously, as if I were approaching a tiger. I was about to reach for the sunscreen again when Stella said:

- You know, I reconsidered, no sunscreen for today. We won't be at the beach for too long, after all -

I was petrified, it was like being slapped in the face. My disappointment must have been obvious because Stella burst out laughing and taking off her sunglasses to look me straight in the eye, she said:

- Oh what a sad face, don't worry baby, you can still serve me in another way and I can then tell your Mistress how a good girl you was. That's what you want, isn't it? Or maybe you just want to touch me? - And here again that mischievous smile that seemed to pierce my body like a sharp blade - Come on, how about a nice massage? I'll be good and I'll let you choose which part of my body to massage -

I was trapped, I knew very well which part I wanted to choose and I knew equally well that it would be too risky to do so. If I had chosen her fantastic feet I would have risked succumbing to my instincts and revealing my true nature, if I had chosen anything else instead I would have ruined my day and, frustrated, I would have risked doing a bad job and disappointing Megan.

- May I give you a foot massage, Miss Stella? -

Those words had come out of my mouth almost without realizing it, my body had betrayed me once again. The woman nodded, that ever-present smile on her face, and I slowly bent down to the foot of her sunbed, which unfortunately was not in the shade of the umbrella. I had massaged Megan's feet countless times, I had also massaged Jane's and the wicked Charlotte's, and yet I had never been so nervous. There was something strange about the woman, almost as if there was some kind of bond between us, something I still could not understand.

"Maybe it's because she's a friend of my mother" I said to myself, trying to explain that feeling that made serving that woman so special.

At the precise moment my hands touched her beautiful feet, I felt the wetness between my legs, well hidden by my black swimsuit. Stella, on the other hand, had on a beautiful white bikini, similar to the one worn by Megan, a light blue one which perfectly matched the color of her nail polish. My eyes could not help but stare intensely at those toes, perhaps even more beautiful than those of my Mistress. As already mentioned, her feet had small imperfections, there was a callus in her left foot and her heels were certainly not as soft as Megan's, probably due to age. I analyzed for several seconds a small scar that had escaped my gaze that morning, it was located a few inches below her little toe and I could not help but wonder how she got it. For a moment my twisted mind thought it had been someone with his teeth, but I doubted that there were many other people like me in the world, always ready to put another person's feet in their mouth.

"I wonder if Stella... no, concentrate on the massage and stop," I said to myself, driving that question out of my head, the dilemma if Stella would ever accept another person, man or woman, licking her feet.

- You seem to have been born for this, little girl. Do you often massage your lady's feet? - Stella asked me a few minutes later, looking very pleased with my work.

- Every day -

I don't know why I answered that way, I could have just said that it happened occasionally, but no, I couldn't lie.

"God, if she asked me, I would even admit that I clean Megan's feet whenever she goes for a run or that I almost always sleep with my nose trapped between her toes"

Lost in my thoughts for too long, I did not notice that the foot I was not massaging had come dangerously close to my face and Stella's toes were almost touching my right cheek.

- Every day, unbelievable. Tell me, did you then get used to the smell or does it bother you after all this time? -

- I, hmm, it never bothered me. Not my lady's at least - I replied stammering, increasingly embarrassed.

- Are you saying that my feet stink, instead? - Stella said, raising an eyebrow.

- No Miss, not at all. I only meant that I have never... er... smelled another person's feet except my lady -

"Yes, keep it up Victoria" I thought, congratulating myself on that lie. But I had been terribly wrong.

- Oh sure, I guess every person smells different. What do you think of mine? - and so saying, the woman brought her left foot even closer to my face, this time trying to touch my nose with her toes.

I was in trouble, I could not escape, and I knew full well how dangerous the situation was becoming. If I had smelled her feet, her scent would probably have made me lose my mind and turn into a drooling dog. I would have liked to turn around and call Megan to my rescue, but there was no time and my Mistress was probably far away, perhaps diving in the clear water of the Sicilian sea.

Finally I gave in, sniffed her foot for a brief moment, and I was immediately bewitched by that heavenly aroma. Fortunately for me, Stella almost immediately moved her foot away from my face or I probably would not have been able to stop myself from sniffing again and again, revealing what I was.

- So? How do my feet smell? I hope I didn't kill you, I don't think your lady would forgive me -

- The smell is... good. Don't worry Miss, it takes more than that to kill me - I replied trying to laugh but with little result.

- Good? Hahaha, you remind me of someone I knew a long time ago, she was also funny and a little pathetic like you -

I didn't get to know more about that person because Megan returned a few seconds later interrupting our conversation. As my friend told us about how wonderful that sea was, that the water was neither too hot nor too cold, my mind was once again lost in my thoughts, which at that moment were all revolving around that woman, as the planets orbit around their star, which in Italian was called "Stella."

Ch: 6

That afternoon no one seemed in a better mood than Megan. Since we had returned from the beach, my Mistress had done nothing but hum, almost lost in a daydream. As she showered and I gently soaped her beautiful body, I couldn't help but wonder what had made her so happy and if that handsome young man we had seen on the beach wasn't the cause of it all.

It was not until an hour later that I discovered I had hit the jackpot. While in the privacy of our room in Stella's house, Megan was enjoying a foot massage, she told me how she had talked for almost ten minutes with that Italian boy who had studied in England for several years and spoke fluent English. Marco was 27 years old, an aerospace engineer, and apparently was looking to work in the European space agency, the equivalent of our NASA. I mean, the guy seemed to have it all, brawn and brains.

- And you talked about all these things while I was... um... putting sunscreen on Stella? -

I don't know why I lied to her, maybe I was ashamed for wanting to serve that woman more than my real Mistress. Or maybe I didn't want Megan to know how easily I had ended up at another person's feet, even smelling them. Of course, Megan knew full well how pathetic I was, how unable to curb my instincts, much more like an animal than a human being, yet I stupidly did not want to seem like an "easy girl."

- Yes, talking to him was very easy, as if we had known each other all our lives. And this evening we will meet again, he told me he wants to show me Taormina and can give me a private tour of the ancient theater. It's incredibile, isn't it? In the moonlight the view must be wonderful -

For some reason I could not share her enthusiasm, perhaps it was still jealousy, perhaps the fear of having to be alone in the house with Stella lurking. But a part of me was happy to be alone with that woman again, and this time away from the gaze of other people. My thoughts began to get more and more perverse and I understood half of what my Mistress was telling me and even my massage was not as good as usual.

Time flew by and with it the afternoon, Megan informed Stella that she was going out with that boy and she entrusted me to the Mistress of the house before she left smiling and almost jumping for joy, I think I have never seen her so happy before that moment.

- So dear, what do you say we pick up where we left off? I would die for another massage like the one of this morning -

I did not make her repeat it twice and without hesitation I approached the woman who was sitting again on the terrace, with her usual drink in her hand and the usual breathtaking view before her eyes. I knelt down slowly and just as slowly removed the white flip-flops she was wearing, noticing with my expert eyes the traces that her toes with time had left in the insoles.

When, for the second time that day, my hands touched those beautiful feet, a new tremor shook my lower abdomen and I had to resist the temptation to bury my face in those soles, not so perfect okay, but nevertheless very attractive.

- What is your favorite part of my feet? - Stella asked me after a few minutes and I noticed that she was watching me carefully with her big eyes.

- Probably your arches Miss, they make your feet so... regal - I replied blushing after studying her feet for a few seconds.

Stella did not respond to my compliment, but smiled and closed her eyes as she continued to enjoy my massage, unconcerned that a young girl half her age was kneeling before her on a hard floor, serving a person she had met only the day before. Pathetic and perverse as I was, I could not help but take advantage of that situation. Stella had her eyes closed, and it was very easy to quickly bring my face close to her feet and smell them quickly.

God, how I wanted to serve those feet with my tongue, lapping her soles relentlessly, softening her heels and getting lost in the middle of her toes.

- Where did you learn, dear Victoria, to give such special foot rubs? - Stella asked me suddenly.

- Hours and hours of work at the feet of my Mistress, that's all- I answered quickly. Only seconds later I realized what I had just done and her trap.

- Haha, I knew you were deceiving me, I knew from the first moment that you were the real Victoria! -

I didn't know how to respond, I was too embarrassed, too afraid to do anything, and even my hands were now paralyzed.

- Keep massaging, dear. Don't worry, I am not angry about the deception but I must confess I am curious as to why it was done. And who is the beautiful "Victoria" with black hair that in this moment is on a date with a handsome Italian young man? - Stella asked me, giving me a little kick in the face to make me resume the massage.

- She is my best friend - I answered finally, almost in a whisper.

- Your friend seems to me too much into the part to be your "MIstress" for only one day. Come on, tell me what game you are playing -

- I... I... can't - and so saying I let go of Stella's feet and crawled a few feet away from the woman, as if frightened of her. But in my heart I knew well what my fear was.

- It's okay little one, you don't have to be afraid of who you are and of hiding your special relationship. Let me tell you something that will make you better accept your situation and understand how I immediately recognized you. You are just like your mother, and no, I am not just talking about that wonderful golden hair you share with her, or your blue eyes. You are much more other than that and much more like her than you might have thought. If at first I might have had the slightest doubt, when I saw you this morning on your knees at my feet, I was sure I understood the truth. I've seen your mother in the same position so many times that I've lost count-

My heart stopped for a moment. What on earth was that woman saying? It couldn't be true, she wasn't really talking about my mother.

- What are you saying? - I managed to say after a few seconds, my head was whirling and I was having difficulty breathing.

- Victoria try to calm down or you will collapse on the floor any moment - this time Stella's voice was harsh and very authoritative.

I could not help but follow her instructions over the next five minutes, and only after I had resumed breathing normally, that panic attack now past, the woman resumed her tale.

- You should not be ashamed of who you are and you should not misjudge your mother for who she was and what she wanted. She was an extraordinary woman, but even as a young girl she could not stand on her own two feet and needed the support of someone more... strong, confident. I remember the first days in college she followed me everywhere like a little dog, and doing everything to get my attention. I confess that at first I didn't understand what was going on, I didn't care much about my roommate, I had a campus to explore and new people to meet. I would have plenty of time to get to know my roommate, I thought. But your mother had no other friends, and she thought it was easier to win the affection of someone who lived under her own roof. So she started washing dishes every day, cleaning the bathroom, cleaning up the mess I was making. I was a stupid, spoiled, and very lazy little girl. I used to leave my socks and other clothes lying around, and it got worse when I realized that my roommate seemed to be more than happy to work for me. I took advantage of that situation and my friend's weakness and soon I began to wonder what her limit was. How far could one person go in order to have the affection of another? Well, your mother had no limits and one day she told me that. She would have done anything to be my friend, to not be alone. She would have beaten a girl I hated if I asked her, she would have kissed the ground I walked on. How to resist such a temptation? How could you reject the idea of having a beautiful girl at your beck and call, a little slave ready to serve you in any way you wish, at the mere snap of your fingers? So, as the months went by, our relationship evolved and your mother seemed happier and happier to obey and the more humiliating the task I assigned her, the more she adored me. And then she met your father. A love story worthy of a fairy tale. I was very happy for my friend, of course I would have missed having a girl working for me no stop, but at the end of college our paths would part anyway, we both knew this -

I was crying, I didn't realize it until Stella finished her story. I still couldn't believe what I had just heard, my mother had always seemed like such a strong woman... and instead she was like me, weak and in need of someone who could give her life purpose. Part of me was happy to hear that story, as if I was less guilty of being so pathetic. My mother was a loser, too; my mother had also been her best friend's servant. But my mother had escaped from that prison, perhaps also thanks to my father. Would I have been able to do the same? I doubted it, by now my obsession with Megan's feet (and more) was too deep, my willpower had been crushed under her soles, and I had nothing and no one left who could take that collar off me. I no longer had a family, I had no money... I had lost everything except my best friend, my owner.

- After college... did you ever meet again?- I managed to ask a few minutes later, almost sobbing.

- Your parents had already married and I was in town on business. I had had a brilliant idea and needed money to start my own business. But no one believed in me, no one except your mother. She was convinced that I was going to be a millionaire and begged to help me. I could tell you that I wanted to refuse and rely only on my own strength but that would be a lie, I needed that money and I loved too much to see your mother begging me. It had been almost two years since she had kissed my feet for the last time and I couldn't help myself. As she smothered my feet with kisses, begging me to take the money I so desperately needed, my perverted mind gave birth to another idea...-

- What did you do? - I asked, crawling back to Stella's feet and observing the woman intensely.

My mother's old friend seemed embarrassed for the first time, she had told me unbelievable things almost without blanking an eye and now, instead, she seemed almost afraid to speak. She needed several minutes before she was able to look at me in the eyes and resume her tale.

- Your father knew what had happened between your mother and me during the college, my dear friend had told me that in a long phone call. I thought he hated me for the things I had made her do, but he loved that woman too much, and Stephanie had told him all along that it was she who had wanted it all, that nothing had ever made her happier than to serve me... except to meet her future husband, of course. And that extraordinary man had accepted who his wife was, had accepted her strange desires, and... it seemed the two of them had begun to do certain role-plays in their bedroom. Your mother told me how one of their recurring fantasies revolved around me, that I would seduce her husband in front of her eyes and humiliate her like the old days while hugging sensually her man. So as that woman kissed my feet begging me to take her money, I thought of thanking her by fulfilling her great fantasy -

- Did you fuck my father? - I asked, staying at the feet of that woman who was sweeping away the idea I had of my wonderful parents.

- I told your mother that I would only take her money if she begged me to do so, licking my feet as I fucked her husband. I still remember her face, the glint in her eyes and her endless kisses at my feet. It was more difficult for Richard to turn a fantasy into reality but eventually he agreed. He was a handsome man and I desired him and I knew he desired me in the same way, but nothing could compare to what your mother was feeling. Her big dream was coming true and when she started licking my feet like a devoted dog while her own husband was penetrating me, I understood that I could never do better, that it was impossible to make her happier. It was the end of our relationship, it had reached the summit of Mount Olympus, and it was time to say goodbye and jealously preserve our memories -

Stella finished her story and even her face was lined with tears, the memory of her old friend was too much even for her, who said goodbye to my mother for the last time without knowing that they would never hug again.

Ch: 7

Megan did not return home that night, her date must have gone pretty well. For a moment I wondered where she was, if she was thinking about me as she spent the night in the company of that charming young Italian boy, who could not yet know how special that woman was, how she had changed her own destiny, taking my place in the wealthy Thomas dynasty, relegating me to the role of slave in my own home and it didn't matter that we were a thousand miles from Thomas Manor, I was always her property.

Although I missed Megan and several times I found myself thinking about her magnificent feet that I had not seen in at least eight hours, time passed quickly and... happily. Of course, I could only thank Stella for that. My mother's old roommate had proved to be a very good friend and confidante, she listened for hours to my incredible stories, and despite my initial shame, I told her everything. I told her how I had begged Megan to move into my house just after my parents had died, told her how I had fallen madly in love with her feet and the shame I felt about such a thing, the doubts I had had and the thousand times I had wondered why I was such a freak, why I couldn't fall in love with a boy like all my friends, why I wanted something as disgusting as feet, instead.

Stella seemed to understand me, she was not disgusted with what I was, she had every right to kick me out of her house once she realized how pathetic I was, just as Roxanne had done in those days when I had foolishly tried to run away from Megan, to escape my fate. I told Stella that, too, how the girl, who had saved my life by let me staying in her house when I no longer had a roof over my head, had kicked me away when she found me with her socks in my mouth.

Once again it was a girl's feet that had been my ruin, after I had already given everything to Megan so that I could lick her soles like a faithful dog. Stella was not disgusted with me even when I told her about Charlotte and what she had forced me to do in the bathroom, the last terrifying humiliation the wicked, snobbish girl had inflicted on me that day, when she had had absolute power over me in my Mistress's absence. Only when my story came to the moment of my near-rape on a city street, Stella looked worried.

- If only I had known what was happening to you, if only we had known each other sooner... -

"What would have happened then?" I thought after hearing her words and wondering how my life would have changed if I had known of Stella's existence before my parents's death. Would I still have ended up under Megan's feet if I had also had another person to support me? Would I still have become this pathetic being who was only a distant memory of old Victoria Thomas?

Then, an image flashed through my mind and I had my answer. I saw once again that little blond girl in her own room letting her friend use her face as a footstool while the black haired girl painted her toenails... and I thought that nothing could change my fate, I had always been Megan's slave and her perfect feet had imprisoned me under them for a long time already, the death of my parents had been just the straw that broke the camel's back.

I also thought back to what Stella had told me in the afternoon, about her particular relationship with my mother. If things had been different, if Megan had not claimed me as her property and I had ask Stella for help after my parents' death, probably the only thing that would have been different was the foot pressed on my head as I bowed humbly on the ground.

Besides, Stella had already used my mother for years as a servant, how long would it have taken her to realize that the daughter was even more submissive than her mother? How long would it have taken her to take it all away from me and reduce me to a dog wagging its tail happily at the mere thought of being able to greedily lick its owner's feet? The answer to that last question was quite obvious, thinking back to the afternoon before, when Stella and Megan had enjoyed watching me play fetch with a cigarette.

- Let me see how good you are with that tongue, then. Let's see if you are better than your mother- Stella said suddenly, bringing me back to reality.

We were in the living room, the owner of the house was sitting on a sofa with her feet resting on an elegant ottoman. I had been sitting on the floor throughout my story, Megan's order to never use furniture like a normal human being was now a part of me and I obeyed almost without realizing it.

For a moment I thought I heard wrong, but it was no wonder Stella had wasted no time in fully testing my abilities. My eyes could only fall on those beautiful feet, on the white polish in her toes, and already my mouth was watering. I don't know why I was so excited and I wondered if it was because of that comparison with my mother. I was going to lick Stella's feet as apparently so many times my mother had done during college, and even afterwards, when she was already married to my father. I couldn't help but think back to what Stella had told me, about that night....

"My tongue is about to touch the feet my mother licked while this woman fucked my father on their own bed" I thought, almost risking coming on the spot.

Stella must have looked like a Goddess that day, lying on the bed as a rich couple worshipped her and only cared for the pleasure of that extraordinary woman.

- Yes, just like that - Stella said moaning as my tongue moved deftly first along her soles and then between her toes.

The taste was different from that of my Mistress, saltier, but pleasant. Stella seemed to really enjoy my tongue and gave me a lot of direction, I could tell that she had received that treatment many times before and knew very well what she wanted, and after a few minutes I realized that what she liked the most were small, painless bites on her heel, almost as if she wanted me to scrape the dead skin off with my teeth.

I wondered what Stella was feeling at that moment, having her old friend's daughter at her feet, like her mother so many years before.

- Do you think it was my destiny to be a footlicker, a slave? Just like my mother... - I asked Stella an hour later, when I had by then finished licking her soles and I was gently kissing the feet of the hostess.

- Are you asking me if this is genetic? What I can tell you is that like your mother, you have managed to live by following your passions, without other people's judgment holding you back. You are happy by serving other people like a faithful dog, you are happy when you can lick your owner's feet, only that matters -

- My mother managed to have a normal life though, to have a husband and a family. Do you think that I... -

- Who knows what the future has in store for us, dear Victoria - Stella said, stroking my face with her left foot - Maybe one day you too will have a family of your own or maybe your destiny will be to serve your friend and her future family for the rest of your life. Don't think about what may be, always live in the present and do what makes you happy.

"And what makes me happy?" I asked myself as I continued to kiss Stella's feet as the sun was rising outside, realizing that we had not slept at all. Then I had my answer and I still don't know to this day if I said it out loud:

"Being the beloved pet on Megan's leash"

Epilogue

During those two weeks, time seemed to fly by. While I loved visiting the cities and the beauties of Sicily, I also loved those intimate moments at Stella's house, with the woman who was amazingly managing not to make me miss Megan, who was increasingly absent and with her mind on her new boyfriend. I am not saying that my Mistress had forgotten about me, but it was obvious that she was craving something new during those weeks, and it did not seem right to get angry with her for those few days when she did not totally take care of me.

By becoming a slave I had lost my freedom, but even Megan in the past year had been forced to change her lifestyle, to learn how to care for someone who depended totally on her like a baby. My best friend had had to become an adult quickly in the orphanage and now had the great responsibility of managing the life of someone as difficult as me. Then again, I had already proved to be a mess in the brief days when I was alone in the world, without my parents and without Megan, when I had run away and nearly hurt her by pushing her.

My best friend, however, had not left me alone, she knew that I was having a great time with Stella, who was a perfect Cicero and showed us places that alone as tourists we would never have discovered. However, Megan ignored how much Stella knew about us and kept playing her part, pretending to be Victoria Thomas, and my mother's old friend seemed to be having a lot of fun playing her game. My Mistress also ignored what was going on between Stella and me within the walls of her home. I don't know why I had chosen not to tell her, but part of me feared that Megan might get angry and decide to cut short our vacation for fear that Stella might take me away from her.

Even Stella agreed not to say anything to Megan, according to the woman in fact those days would be useful for me to figure out what I really wanted and it would be risky to involve my best friend who could easily influence my thinking since her every word was law to me. I suspected that the woman's reasons for keeping what was going on between us a secret was also another, Stella wanted to enjoy a young slave girl all to herself during those few days and did not want to share with Megan her new toy that reminded her of her youth and the special relationship she had with my mother, almost twenty years earlier.

Regarding what was taking place within the walls of Stella's beautiful home, I think it is appropriate to talk a little bit about it. The woman understood perfectly my greatest obsession and did not hesitate to tease me continuously with her beautiful feet, driving me crazy and I risked many times to have orgasm after orgasm, disobeying the orders of Megan who continued to control even that aspect of my life.

I spent so much time at Stella's feet in those days that by now their scent was as familiar to me as Megan's and I probably would have known it among a thousand as the best of hounds. There wasn't an inch of those feet that I hadn't explored with my tongue, there wasn't a wrinkle in her soles that I hadn't licked greedily, there wasn't a toe on her feet that I hadn't sucked so hard that I risked removing her white polish.

Stella used to tell me stories as she used my face as a footstool, often while drinking fine Italian wine or some cocktail. From her stories I seemed to get to know my mother better and better, discovering things I could never have known without Stella's help.

"If you had been alive, Mum, would you ever have told me the truth one day? Would you ever have told me that secret part of your life?"

I asked myself that question many times in those days and could never give myself an answer. But was it really important? If I had children in the future, would I really have told them what I had done with Megan, Stella, Jane and so many others in those months that had followed my parents' deaths? Would I really have confessed that their mother's lips before their children's cheeks had relentlessly kissed other people's feet, regardless of whether they were clean or sweaty or as black as asphalt of the road?

Perhaps it was these thoughts that had restrained my mother from telling me about Stella, a woman who had been so important in her life but about whom she had never spoken to me, except in vague references about a college roommate.

Stella on the other hand loved to talk about my mother and seemed not to have forgotten a single day of those past years, where she felt like a queen despite being only a penniless student. The years and time had changed nothing in my eyes, Stella was still a queen and this time her bank account was worthy of someone with such status. Licking the feet of such a sensual and beautiful woman, despite her forty years of age, it was a real honor and I was very lucky to be able to spend those hours without Megan with her, and it was hard to say goodbye to her as the last days of our vacation drew closer and closer.

Stella had to leave a few days before our return flight; she had been invited to a prestigious ceremony in Switzerland and apologized several times for not being able to stay with us until the end. The woman offered us to keep being guest in her house even in her absence, but Megan preferred to book a hotel room in another Sicilian city that she wanted to visit before our departure.

And so, after saying goodbye to Stella and kissing her feet for the last time, again in secret from Megan, my Mistress and I moved further south to the east coast of Sicily, to the city of Siracusa.

"The greatest and most beautiful of Greek cities" as Cicero called it in the first century B. C., and despite time, wars and various foreign dominations, the city still retained some of that beauty. Walking around the beautiful island of Ortigia with Megan was a unique experience and perhaps for the first time in that strange and difficult year, it felt like living a normal life. In those days we were two friends exploring unfamiliar and beautiful places and I hardly felt the collar that had returned to tighten my neck, I was with my Mistress but I was free, like the seagulls that flew over the small fishing boats that sailed that calm sea, the sight of which gladdened the senses.

- Do you think you will see him again? - I suddenly asked Megan, as we both watched ducks swimming blissfully in what was called "Fonte Aretusa", a small freshwater pond a few meters from the sea, graced with numerous papyruses.

- Marco? Umm I don't know, he is a good guy but distance is important in a relationship. And then Steven wrote me again... - Megan replied and I decided not to continue that conversation, I didn't feel like talking about that idiot from Missouri she had dated for a few weeks, two months before.

- Do you know that there is a myth about this place? - I told Megan, I had read it on the internet while looking for the most fascinating places in the city - Arethusa was one of Diana's nymphs, after taking a bath in the crystal clear river Alphaeus, the latter took the form of a man and was madly in love with her. Not returning his love, the girl ran away, and the Goddess Diana to help her turned her into a spring... -

- Into a spring? What an unusual help, well at least she ran away from that man she did not love - Megan said chuckling -

- Well... not really, Alphaeus was not resigned and Jupiter out of pity turned him back into a river so he could be near his beloved again -

- This must be one of the first cases of stalking in history - my friend commented and I couldn't help but burst out laughing, happier than ever in that wonderful place with such a special person next to me - However, this myth teaches us one thing - Megan continued - that when you are destined to be with a person it is useless to run away, you are his and only his forever... -

And it was at that moment that I understood that Megan knew, that my friend was aware of everything that had happened in the last few weeks. And those words meant only one thing, she had let me play with Stella, but I was hers and I would be hers until the end of my days because she had no intention of losing me as I had lost everything.

The END