Mistress Svenja's Feet

A Man Will Do Anything For A Taste of His Mistress's Feet...

I was so excited about my date with Svenja.  Never, had I ever imagined I would get to be on the arm of a woman of such class and charm and exotic beauty as the raven-hair goddess herself.  I greeted her at her door and escorted her to the car.  She had on a very sexy but elegant ensemble of leather and lace complete with black nylon and stiletto high heels.  Her long black hair was down and straight as always and her eyes were up up with a smokey look, giving off a sense of mystery and danger.  

We met in Venice and I had reserved a room at one of the most prestigious hotels in the city with the most expensive view ever.  But, as impressive as the view was, Svenja had taken hostage all of my visual attention.

I popped open a bottle of champagne, and poured two glasses;  offering one to Svenja.  She smile graciously, took a sip of her glass then the look in her eyes turned cold and serious. 

"Why is my slave still standing before me, daring to look into my eyes?"  Her tone was crisp and insulting and I felt like I had my legs kicked out from under me. 

I fell to my knees after placing my glass on the table. 

"I'm sorry, Mistress.  Forgive me?"  I asked, sincerely regretting upsetting her. 

"As if you even deserve my forgiveness.  You are still fully clothed in my presence.  Perhaps I should just call a taxi and leave now." 

Svenja was serious.  She put down her glass and made for the door. 

"No wait!"  I cried, "Please, I'm sorry.  I didn't know we were starting.  Please, I'll do anything.  Look!" 

I frantically disrobed as fast as I could, tossing my clothes all over the room.  I soon returned to my knees, naked and exposed, embarrassed over my slight gut. 

"Keep your eyes down, slave."  Svenja said quietly, as she circled around me 3 or 4 times.  I did as she told me, keeping my eyes down, and just enjoyed the view of her high heels and stocking covered ankles. 

"Have you been going to the gym like I told you, slave?"  Svenja asked knowing how self conscious I was about my aging body. 

"Yes, Mistress."  I answered, feeling very ashamed. 

"And you still look like this?"  Something about Svenja's German accent made it sound even more insulting than I could handle and I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes. 

"I know, Mistress.  I'm sorry."  My voice was starting to buckle from sorrow. 

"No!  You are not allowed to cry, Slave!"  She scolded in her cold, crisp and harsh tone.  Though she did not lay a hand on me, I could almost feel the lashing from her words like a whip across my skin.  My eyes sucked back in my tears and I focused on her demands. 

"Yes, Mistress!" 

She retired to the chair facing the open room with her glass of champagne and instructed me to crawl on my hands and knees over to her.  My knees were very sore, from age, but I knew I dare not find my own relief without her permission.  I would rather suffer whatever mental and physical agony she would bestow upon me that evening then suffer the pain of her leaving me alone without the privilege of servicing her and amusing her.  I was in awe of Mistress Svenja, and I would do anything for her sadistic desires. 

"My shoes are dirty, slave.  Clean them, with your tongue!"  Svenja demanded.  We had been walking all over town that night, and I watched her step through puddles and other worrisome things.  I wanted to obey her, but I didn't want to get sick. 

"But, Mistress?"  I tried to beg.

"You're going to make your Mistress ask you twice?  How dare you!  I said, clean my shoes!  Now!" 

Oh No!  I thought, as she shouted.  Forgetting my own health, I snapped into action and began to licked clean the entire surface of her shoes, heels, and soles.  The dirt and grim was enough to make me gag and I was certain I would be very ill the next day, but better to be ill tomorrow than anger my Goddess any further.