Are you always looking down?
Are you always looking down? The one who I catch catching a glimpse in Tesco. Only you’re so busy you don’t see my knowing smile. I see you, I get you. I love to tease you.
What struck you? Was it just my confidence in general that made your eyes dip, your need to be lower, or was it my shoes? Maybe your interest goes deeper into the details; the way my toe cleavage pinches at the vamp of the shoe, or soft arches that get you hard?
As far as fetishes go, a sexual interest in feet is becoming more mainstream, and from what I hear it often leads you down the tunnel to further kinks. For most clients I speak with, this interest generally starts in impressionable years – you were politely waiting, or swinging and fidgeting by your parents’ side, your eyes to the floor. And you were inexplicably drawn to the slingback peep toe heels worn by the woman they are is chatting to. Her bright nail polish was striking and it got you looking, then this woman speaks with you. In a single moment you somehow feel seen, and perhaps in your growing mind you began to associate the feeling of toes and acceptance together.
Then later in life, after always having a thing for toes, your first girlfriends trainers were noticeably fragrant and it drove you crazy, somewhere deep in your complicated brain it reminds you of the time you saw those feet, had those feelings. You just want to touch them, lick them, suck them.. or more? By this time, the simple fact of beginning to mature sexually and yet being attracted to what’s considered ‘abnormal’ or ‘odd’ by your limited knowledge of social constructs had likely led you to deny the kink altogether, causing it to swirl around your head, become a big naughty secret. Eventually this secret gains enough momentum until later in life when one day you investigate… and boom. You realise you’re a bona fide foot fetishist! Armed with this new found knowledge – that you’re not alone or weird, you begin your steady and slow journey towards my dungeon.
“Once I know your weakness it will be dangled in front of you, mercilessly.”
So, you’ve been diving into the online fetish world of modern times, and your eyes are officially open. In the same way no kink is one dimensional; you’re now discovering your fetish for feet is not *just* about a few parts or actions. You’re discovering sub kinks you hadn’t previously considered.
Perhaps, you’ve been looking into dirty feet? Does it feel humiliating, dirty and wrong? Is that what you like? We will probably get along! I like to walk free, be earthed, feel the warm grass and mud beneath my feet. I will never apologise for my tough and rough feet, they aren’t exclusively a pretty thing for you to enjoy. Continually preened and pampered for softness, no thank you, I have a life to enjoy.
You’ve likely come to notice a certain shape and size does it better for you. Do you like my slender feet? My long knobbly toes, the royal one – (those who follow my Loyal Fans will be all to familiar with this in-joke) or maybe you like it when I wear my nails painted red, dark purple or perhaps a bright colour like that moment you can recall from your youth.
To some, these little details can become incredibly important, and if any part of this is overlooked, the result could be a disappointment. For some, just looking is enough but I do find that feet kinksters can be very specific, perhaps more so than any other I have come across.
This may be your only fetish, or perhaps you’re reading this and thinking that you didn’t even consider feet a ‘thing’ before meeting me, I know thats true of someone in particular. But, you’re not alone, many have been converted into my foot slaves over time. Often, it’s the only part of me you are permitted to touch, caress, rub or lick. So that, in itself becomes addictive. It’s the intimacy you crave, and I use this as a reward.
You've resisted this long
“I proudly collect shoes and foot slaves – they are such a happy pairing.”
It’s no wonder I collect foot slaves, when I adore heels like I do! Everything about them, from the exciting trips out to Paris and New York to purchase them, where I tease you in the shop. You kneel before me, and I place a warm, sweaty foot in your face in front of the assistant joking “wouldn’t it be funny if you had a foot fetish”.
Even my squealing and smiling as you busy yourself with footing the bill is a part of this for me… and then theres the wearing of them. Public foot massages, after trying on so many beautiful pairs, and then you get to softly place the chosen pair upon my feet. The way an achingly high heel showcases the arch, presents the toes. It’s like a beautifully arched back, the curve of a full breast, or shapely hip. Theres something about that arch, that pokes above the top line as it sweeps low into the shank. You could just run your greedy tongue along there, couldn’t you. My warm, wrinkled arch giving you everything and yet nothing.
Heels make me feel and look more glamorous, confident and indeed dangerous. I am physically higher, with a walking weapon. In a stiletto heel I can step on your back, leaving you lightly dotted or scratched by the heel lift. Or perhaps with a wedge heel I squish your manhood entirely. As you are made to watch from above my toe cleavage is accentuated with every push down onto you.
In a session, feet, boot, and heel worship can involve you kissing my shoes, sucking my heels, and licking my dirty soles. I have been known to add in food too, dipping my toes in something nice or not so-nice. Just to see how much you want my toes in your mouth, to see how far you’ll go for me. One beautifully memorable session involved squishing sweet raspberries and juicy oranges between my toes and feeding the bound boy his fruity meal.