The Fantasies of a Submissive Leg and Foot Lover

With all seriousness,
I think I just need a good flogging
Because I just want to scream out
All this pent up anxiety I have been bottling up
For the past month.
Someone please, whip me!!!

I had a dream about you last night. Actually, it was a dream about you, me, and my best friend Carl. You know, the guy you are always flirting with right in front of me who can't seem to keep his hands off you? I was in my room sleeping, when you send me a text telling me to get naked and to come down stairs; you apparently had a surprise for me. In a picture attached to the message was you standing in the corner next to the red and black high heel chair in that black babydoll lingerie dress I love so much. I knew I was going to be in for one wild ride by the look in your smoky eyes.

What I didn't expect was to see you with your legs wrapped over those of Carl's who already had his shirt off while your hand was playing with the hair on his chest. I stopped in my tracks, feeling exposed, but before I could turn around and run back upstairs to my room, you instructed me to come into the living room and to sit on the high heel chair. As I did, the both of you laughed.

"Oh, My God!" Carl began to chuckle, "You weren't kidding!"

"I know, right?" You responded, pointing at me; or rather what was dangling between my legs, "see how small he is?"

"And you let him fuck you with that?" Carl asked with pure disbelief. I couldn't even look at him and felt my entire face glowing red hot with embarrassment.

"Well, he tried, but I didn't feel anything. He had to use my dildo just to get me off and guess what happened," you said.

"What?"

"He got harder watching another dick slide in and out of my pussy than when his own dick was inside me. I mean, how pathetic is that?"

You both continued to laugh as I felt my heart drop further and further into my stomach. I remembered that night too, the night you went from sweet-to-cruel for the first time asking me if I liked what I saw. When I said yes, you said "Good, then fuck harder, you fagot!"

I came so hard later that night, thinking of how sexy it was to me the way you just suddenly started to berate and dominate me.

Despite how humiliated I was feeling, I started to feel myself twitching down below and you pointed at me again, laughing. I was getting turned on from being degraded by you.

"You see," you said with excitement, "He actually enjoys being humiliated. Look, that little pecker is getting harder!"

"Dude," Carl said to me, "I can't wait to tell all the boys at the bar. Might have to start calling you Little Dick Barry!"

"Oh I like that," you laughed with him, "Little Dick Barry. Or, what about Little Dick Cuckold?"

"That's even better," Carl agreed and the both of you continued to laugh.

"Now, I think you better sit on those hands of yours and stay quiet, do you understand me, Cuckold?" You asked as you started to slink your entire body over Carls.

I sat on my hands and nodded. Taking a deep uneven breath, I just sat there and watch as you straddled Carl's lap and reach down to undo his belt. It only took you a matter of seconds and all of a sudden his pants were down and his giant member was out and ready. He was almost 2 times the size of me. You wrapped your hand around him and gave him a few tugs before looking at me over your shoulder and saying, "This is what a real man looks like, cucky!"

I was of course already starting the throb. But, every time you called me cucky or cuckold, I felt more and more blood rushing between my legs making me throb even more. I couldn't help but whimper as you turned your attention back to my best friend and slowly started to impale yourself upon him. You erotic cries were just lough enough to drown out my jealous sigh and within seconds you were slowly bounding up and down on him, getting used to his mammoth size more and more.

His hands were around your waist and I could only imagine how much he loved the silky sheer material of your little dress against the heat of your tiny little body as you rode him harder and harder to your first orgasm. It didn't take you long and you screamed so loud.

"That's it, baby! That's what a real man feels like!" Carl growled, before flipping you onto your back and plowing deeper into you. As you turned your head to make sure I was still watching, I watched your legs wrap tightly around his waist.

"Do you like this?" You ask me.

"Yes," I could barely say, I had no voice.

"Yeah, you like watching him fuck your roommate? Is this what gets you hot?"

"Yes, Tiffany. I love it! Please, can I get off?" I asked you, begging.

"No, keep watching." You said with a cruel look then turned your smile back on as you returned your attention to Carl.

"That's it, fuck me harder! Yes, harder! Oh, fuck!" You screamed as your head fell back in oblivion from the thrashing Carl was giving you on our couch.

I was going crazing, sitting on my hands, dying to get some kind of pleasure, but the only glimmer of pleasure I got was from the sounds you were making and the live action view of Carl's cut body working you over and over. I didn't know what side of me was turn on the most, the cuckold side or my bi-curious side. Perhaps, it was both.

I was snapped out of my own little bi-curious fantasy when I heard Carl say he was about to pop. What, I thought, that fast? But before I knew it both you and Carl were in the throws of the wildest orgasm I had even seen and you were begging him to keep it inside you! I sat there as waves of jealousy and envy washed over my body as the two of you slowly came down from your joint erotic high. That was when Carl got up to go get a drink of water and you looked at me, curling your finger, to beckon me over to you.

"On your knees, cuckold. Time for clean-up duty!"

All I could do was stare in lust at you gapping open and dripping with what Carl left inside you. I was terrified at the idea of tasting him, but I knew not to defy you; not after the last time. Without hesitation, I was on my knees between your legs as you grabbed me by the ears and pulled me in to lick you clean. "Clean me out, really good! This is why I love you! I want to be completely ready for round 2."

It was, by far, the hottest dream of you I have had yet. I can't help but wonder if it will become a reality like all the others.

It was the middle of the night!  I had been listening to them fuck for most of it.  I had to be up by 7 for a very important meeting and I already knew it was going to be a strong energy drink day.  I rolled over for the umpteenth time when I heard her bedroom door open and the sound of heavy footsteps leave down the stairs followed by the slam of our front door. 

Thank God, I thought to myself.  I was finally going to get some sleep.  I was just about to nod off when my door squeaked open.  Before I had a chance to look, Tiffany was already on top of me, naked and smelling like sex with her swollen red mound right over my face. 

“You said you wanted this, cuck-boy?” She asked with a very harsh tone, “well now you’re going to get it.  Eat him out of me, right now or I will beat the crap out of your ball!” 

I was only able to get, “No, Wait…” out before she grabbed my balled head and lowered her sticky, gooey cunt right down to my mouth. 

“Eat it, Brenton!  Fucking eat his cum out of me, you worthless little cuckold!”  She shouted.  The humiliation was such a turn on!

It was the most horrific taste in the world, another man’s jazz mixed with hers, but the treatment I was getting made my own shaft shoot straight up.  All I wanted to do, was serve her so I groan and moaned in erotic torture as I used my tongue to suck out every drop of his load I could out of her.  I must have been doing a good job because she began to moan with building ecstasy as her hips gyrated over my face.  She was about to orgasm. 

“That’s it, Brenton!  Don’t stop!  Get that cum!  Yes, Yes, YES!”  And then she lowered all of her 105 pounds right over me, suffocating me as her body fell into a very violent climax.  She was squirting all over me and I didn’t know if I was going to suffocate or drown first.  I was bucking and thrashing below her just trying to get some air, but Tiffany didn’t seem to care.  She just wanted to use me like I was nothing; that was what made the whole thing so fucking hard for me. 

Just when I was about to pass out, she fell off of me and clasped next to me on the bed as I gasped over and over, catching my breath with the smell of him and her intoxicating me.  I just wanted to cum and instinctively wrapped my hand around my dick.  Before I could even get two strokes in, she took my hands, rolled me over, and cuffed them behind my back. 

“Sorry, but cuckolds don’t get to cum like real men!”  Tiffany said, then left me alone and naked on my own bed, which was soiled from all her juices.  I stay on my side for a moment, replaying the whole thing in my head. 

“Tiffany, please don’t leave me like this!”  I begged. 

All I got in return before her door slammed shut was, “Shut the fuck up, Brenton and go to sleep!” 

God damn, she had become so cruel, and I couldn’t help but love it. 

When did everything get so messed up?  When did I let my fetish for nylons, legs and feet become so obsessive that is blinded me to what is really important?  I'm talking about a real connection, companionship, tenderness and affection; having that one special someone you know will always be there for you through thick or thin? 

I have recently realized that all I was looking for was a pleasure dispensary.  I thought I was looking for a Mistress or a Domme, but I wasn't.  I was doing the one thing I promised I would never do, I was objectifying women in order to satisfy my own needs only without even thinking about what I could offer her and what her needs would be.  When did I become such a monster? 

Truth is, I've always been a very romantic guy.  I love giving flowers, surprising her with dinners, moonlit walks, all of that!  I love getting dressed up for no reason at all except to just celebrate what we have.  I enjoyed looking forward to maybe seeing her in nylons and heels and hoping that if the night went well I would get to cherish and worship her in them while at the same time fulfilling whatever fantasy she had as well.  

Yet, after my last real relationship almost 10 years go, I started focusing on my fetishes and fantasies and lost sight of the real stuff in life.  

I don't think I could ever give up my fetish for nylons, legs, feet, sexy high heels and boots, but I do believe that it has become a bit of a curse.  It's almost like I'm afraid to give it up for fear that I have nothing else.  

This is the battle I fight within me.  This is what keeps me alone.

I'm standing in line for security.  I have already taken off my boots, my belt, my hat and etc and have them in their bins.  My laptop is also out and everything from my pockets are in a bin as well.  I move a step forward and then look up and in the line across from me is one of the most beautiful 30-something brunettes I have ever seen.  She is wearing a short leather skirt that zips up all the way in the back, a black leather matching jacket which comes off to reveal a white spaghetti strap satin blouse.  Her towering stilettos come off next dropping her down about 6 inches and there I see them; her beautifully manicured toes in sheer black nylons.  OMG!  She doesn't walk flat footed, she stays on her toes the entire time as if anything else would be foreign to her.  She is so elegant, so sexy, so distracting.  

SECURITY AGENT:

Sir, let's go!

I snap back from that dirty little place in my head where I am on the floor licking at her soles and look the rather intimidating Security Agent in the eye with a nod.

ME:

I'm sorry.  

I'm obviously not the first person that night to no pay attention judging from the Security Agent's expression and the way his eyes roll back into his head.  

I step into the scanner and hold my hands up over my head.  After a second or two, I'm invited to step out on the other side and wait.  Not long after I am collecting my belonging from the conveyor and trying to put myself back together.  I look around for nylon goddess, but sadly can not catch sight of her.  Cursing quietly to myself, I gather my bag and trod off to my gate.  

I am sitting at the gate, about an hour before boarding.  I have a coffee next to me and some kind of french pastry in a little bag on the seat next to me.  I'm reviewing my flight itinerary on my phone as a take a sip of my coffee then give my eyes a break and look up.  There she is again, right across from me.  Her legs are crossed, her high heel dangles off her toes, and her attention is on her phone.  I am all but hypnotized by the swaying motion of her leg and the high heel off of her toes.  God, what I wouldn't give to just crawl over and smell those heels, lick those spikes and beg permission to kiss those toes.  

WOMAN AT THE AIRPORT:

Are you okay?

I look up and turn beat red as I make eye contact with her.  She may be flashing a pleasant smile, but I feel like I am being a total creep; Damn it!

ME:

Yes, I'm sorry.  I couldn't help but notice your um...

I shake my head in shame and point at her feet.

ME (CONTINUED):

... I like your shoes.

She smiles even brighter and stares at me for a good long moment before speaking.

WOMAN AT THE AIRPORT:

Thank you.  But, is it just my shoes you like?

I blush some more.  How could it be that obvious?  Did nylon lovers like me look certain way or something? 

ME:

No ma'am.  It's not. 

WOMAN AT THE AIRPORT:

Would you like to touch them?

I just stare at her.  Did she really just offer that to me?  Then I look around; we are not the only ones in that row of seats. 

ME:

I would, but...

I gesture to our surroundings.  She looks around too and then gets a wicked look in her eyes. 

WOMAN AT THE AIRPORT:

Excuse me, Sir.  Would you do me a favor?  I have been wearing these shoes all day and my feet are just killing me?  Could I trouble you for a foot massage? 

I chuckle at first as I smile at her.  But, as I look around me, the two other guys and the other woman are all looking at me.  The woman gestures for me to get down there like it would even be a question.  So, I do what any perfectly normal gentleman with a secret fetish for nylons would do.  

ME:

Sure.  I would be happy to!

I drop to my knees and gently lift the dangling high heel off of her foot and begin by pressing my thumbs into the ball of her foot.  I can smell that she has indeed been wearing those heels for a while as the scent permeates into my nose and intoxicates my soul with every breath I take.  The more I feel her warm, nylons against my skin, the more I want to just worship and kiss her moist, damp toes.  But all I do is rub and massage and let my eyes wonder up and down the arch of her foot and the curve of her leg.  She is no cheap woman either.  Her nylons feel extremely soft and silky and give a tell tale slipping sound as my skin brushes against them. 

WOMAN AT THE AIRPORT:

Yes, thank you.  That feels so good.  Please don't forget the other one. 

I let the first foot go as I lift the other and carefully remove the black stiletto from it.  I begin to sub and she leans down when no one seems to care and whispers to me.

WOMAN AT THE AIRPORT (WHISPERING):

Kiss them. 

I look up at her and she nods.  I then return my gaze to her beautiful toes and begin to tremble. 

WOMAN AT THE AIRPORT (WHISPERING):

Go ahead.  It's okay. 

Without giving it another thought, I lower my head and gently press my lips against her toes.  As I give them the most loving kiss I ever gave anything else in my life, I take in a huge breath and let her foot scent completely engulf me. 

GATE AGENT (OVERHEAD ANNOUNCEMENT): 

Ladies and Gentleman, we will begin boarding first class at this time.  Please approach the gate.  

WOMAN AT THE AIRPORT:

I guess you better put my shoes back on.

She stares down at me with a commanding smile and I do exactly as she says, placing her sexy high heels back on each foot one by one.  The gets up and grabs her back without so much of a thank you and just leaves me on my knees.  I smile as I get up and grab my stuff to board the plane.  At least we are both in first class.

As I hand my ticket to the cute little blonde Gate Agent, she winks at me and hands me another ticket.

GATE AGENT:

Sir, I have been asked to seat you next to her.  Have a good flight.

I smile even wider as I trod my way down the gangway.  This is going to be one interesting flight...