He closed his eyes and smiled, his face pressing between my toes like Play-Doh, oozing around the painted pretties.
I half halfheartedly returned a smile but continued to read my book nearly unfazed by him. A grown man on his knees, dressed in a decent suit covering his face with my feet, kissing my soles, and sniffing my shoes. “Tony” seemed like a nice guy with a relatively normal life except he had a HUGE foot fetish and I was allowing him to feed his need by glorifying mine.
My aloofness wasn’t part of some Mistress act, oh no, I was just generally not really fazed by having my feet pampered in such a way. He alternated between kissing and licking them to massaging them with his homemade oils, which he wasn’t half bad at. This briefly caused me to close my eyes and enjoy the relaxing sensation but not too long. I was after all in New York City and in a strange place I had never been before. It was public but I like to be cautious.
This was my pre-New Years treat to myself…meet strange men from online for BDSM activities. I figured there were worse things.
Our 45 minutes were nearly up when yet again the gentleman in the corner looked over his tablet at our interaction. I couldn’t tell if he was generally intrigued or freaked out but either way he couldn’t take his eyes away from us for more than a few minutes at a time. I (and Tony) had done a good job ignoring him. Just when I was about to beckon him over to share a snide remark he was already getting up to leave.
‘Finally’ I thought as I closed my eyes again.
Tony was working his thumbs up the middle of my recently high heel clad feet.
“Excuse me, I hate to be rude and interrupt—“
“But you’re going to anyway,” I said first opening my eyes in one motion.
Before me stood the man from the corner, his tablet tucked away in his briefcase, and he was bundled up in hat and scarf for the cold.
He blushed a little.
“Umm, again I’m sorry, I was just wondering what you’re doing?” He asked looking down at Tony who was now laying under my feet as I applied pressure to his face.
“This is a ‘lounge’ right? We’re ‘lounging’,” I said with a chuckle.
He laughed a little with me. “Yes, okay, but what is he doing?”
“He’s worshiping my feet,” I replied without hesitation.
“Is this like a BDSM thing?” The briefcase man asked.
Most vanilla folks don’t jump right to that assumption. Perhaps he wasn’t as innocent as he looked.
“Yes. Yes it is. He’s paid me for a foot session,” I said closing my eyes once again.
“So you’re a professional domin—“
I cut him off again, “I’m a professional Mistress, yes”.
“That’s really weird because I’m actually a producer, I’m working a movie about the lifestyle. Would you be interested in talking to me about it some or even taking part in it?” He asked.
I opened my eyes slowly to find him holding out his card in my direction.
I took it between my fingers and read it.
“Perhaps…” I said closing my eyes again and dismissing him with a wave of my hand.