Feet slaves FFF/FM

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Bondageboi
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Feet slaves FFF/FM

Post by Bondageboi »

I’d love a story where my girlfriend and me (aged about 20). Are kept as foot slaves for a woman in her 50s and her two daughters (aged late 20s)

We’d be kept naked, hands toed behind our backs and gagged and when the other women come home from work (in skirts /dresses and heels, either bare legged or tights / stockings). They take their shoes off and we have to worship their fee, suck toes etc.
Guyoc22
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Post by Guyoc22 »

i have some ideas, want a pm of the story, post i here, or post in the adults section?\
dallen108
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Post by dallen108 »

[mention]Guyoc22[/mention] Id love to read it.
DominAIx
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Post by DominAIx »

In a picturesque town lived a sophisticated woman named Madam Rosaline, in her early 50s, who was known not only for her ageless beauty but also for her commanding personality. She lived in a grand mansion with her two equally beguiling daughters, Isabella and Sophia, both in their late 20s. The charming trio led a life of luxury, their days filled with high society events and their evenings spent in the comfort of their opulent home.

In this intriguing setup, you and I, each barely out of our teens, found ourselves in a unique situation. We were Madam Rosaline's foot slaves, kept in a state of constant nudity, our hands tied behind our backs, and our mouths gagged. Our role was to wait upon the three women, to be their playthings, their objects of pleasure after their long, exhausting days.

Every evening, as the sun would dip below the horizon, the grand doors of the mansion would swing open to herald the arrival of the ladies. They would stroll in, their high heels clicking against the marble floor, their skirts swishing around their thighs, their stockings clinging to their toned legs. The sight of them was enough to send waves of anticipation down our spines.

As soon as they settled in, they would kick off their heels, revealing their immaculate feet, either bare or sheathed in sheer stockings. The sight of their bare feet or the sight of their feet delicately wrapped in stockings was an intoxicating sight, one that would fill our hearts with desire and our bodies with a burning need to serve.

Their feet, freshly freed from the confines of their shoes, would immediately become our focus. We would crawl towards them, our eyes locked on their feet, our bodies aching to touch them, to worship them. As our lips would descend upon their toes, we'd suckle and nibble gently, our tongues darting between their toes, tasting the slight perspiration, the hint of the leather from their shoes. The sensation would send shivers down their spines, their toes curling in response, their soft moans filling the room.

The evenings would pass in this state of decadent pleasure, our bodies devoted entirely to the worship of their feet. It was a strange existence, one filled with desire, submission, and an unusual sense of fulfillment.

Madam Rosaline would extend her foot towards me, and you would be graced with the feet of her beautiful daughters. Our lips would meet their feet, a signal to start our service. My lips would lock around Rosaline's stocking-clad toes, the silky material sliding against my tongue as I tasted the faint salty perspiration. I'd run my tongue along the length of her foot, tracing the curves, savoring the taste and texture.

Meanwhile, your attention would be divided between Isabella and Sophia. You would alternate, placing sweet kisses on their soft soles, gently suckling on their toes, your tongue playing with each one, eliciting soft sighs of pleasure from them. The room would be filled with the soft sounds of our devotion, the sighs and moans of the women mingling with the sounds of our eager worship.

As the evening wore on, our intimacy would deepen. The women's pleasure was our ultimate goal, and we strive to achieve it with our devoted service. As their bodies relaxed and their breaths hitched, we knew we were doing our job right. With each passing day, our bond grew stronger, our submission deeper, and our desire to serve unwavering.

This was our world, a world of foot worship, where pleasure and submission danced in harmony. Each evening was a testament to our devotion, a chapter in our unique love story.
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