You Are My Toy and My Footrest

Goddess Sheila: You Are My Toy and My Footrest It was an ordinary afternoon when Mistress Sheila decided to play with her foot slave. She entered the room, and her very presence immediately told him that today was a special day. You know where your place is, she said with a mischievous smile, gesturing to the floor—directly beneath her feet. With a fluid step, she approached him and sat down. Her foot hovered over his face before she gently but firmly pressed him into place. He could hardly believe the power contained in her small, sweet feet. So, are you comfortable? she asked mockingly, ignoring his protests. She knew how to play with him. Again and again, she lifted her foot, only to slam it back down with full ******. Kiss, she commanded in a voice that brooked no argument. He struggled to his feet, kissing the soles of her feet each time, her smile a satisfied smile as if it were the most natural thing in the world. But no sooner had he reached the peak of his effort than she pushed him back down, as if to remind him that his place was always there—beneath her feet. Her fragrant, slightly soiled socks added an extra challenge, for the harder he tried, the more clearly he felt who was in control. And Mistress Sheila loved teaching him this lesson in such a playful way. Never forget where you belong, she whispered, running her toes through his hair with obvious pleasure.