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Chapter
3
I used Professor Franklin's
reading list wisely, and I gave it a good two weeks before I called
Roger again. This time I had confidence. I nearly barked into the
phone, "Roger, this is Amy. Are you in a mood for some foot worship?"
"Amy! Is that you?"
he responded.
"Yes it is, Roger, and
you haven't answered my question."
You bet!" was his hasty
response. "When can we do it?"
"Well," I let my words
hang in the air, "I do have some work to do at the library. If you'll
meet me there at 7, and help me carry my books, I'll consider it."
He was all for it.
If feet he loved, then
feet he would see. I dressed in a tight sweater, a very short skirt
and wore a pair of sandals that were nothing more than a couple
of straps holding my feet to a leather sole. Best of all, I could
loosen them up so I could dangle them by the front strap off of
my toe. Such was the state that Roger found me in the library.
I'm not bad looking,
but then again, I don't have the features that other girls have
to tease boys. I used to think it was cruel when I heard other girls
talk about cock teasing. Now that it was my turn, I felt differently.
I was excited.
I had control. I caused
Roger to have an erection. If he wanted relief, he had to come to
me. That was one of the lessons I learned from Professor Franklin.
Roger walked in carrying
a small bag and sat down. I crossed my legs lifting my skirt a little
giving him a good show. He could almost, but not quite, see my panties.
My foot was raised over my knee and the sandal was hanging precariously
off my big toe. I flexed my foot so it bounced, and twirled, and
waved at him seductively.
I was ready to do it
right then and there, but I wanted Roger to suffer for a while.
The good professor told me that anticipation is an important part
of training a male. It could be the anticipation of a punishment
such as a spanking or the anticipation of getting sexual release.
It didn't matter as long as the man waited on the woman.
We waited a good 15
minutes in silence as I read a book and Roger stared at my feet
with a growing erection. I tried to ignore him as best as I could.
To all outward appearance, I was actually trying to look bored with
his presence. In my mind, I held a picture of a dog begging at the
table; both annoying and pathetic all at once.
Inward appearances were
entirely different. I was trying to sneak glances at his cock to
see how I was doing. The bulge remained. Inside I was burning up
and dripping with desire, but I knew that I could not let him see
this. To win this battle, all I had to do was remain calm and let
him break on me using his own weaknesses. (Another lesson learned).
Finally, I just gathered
my things, got up and left. He followed me like a puppy. As soon
as we got outside, I spoke to him for the first time. I simply pushed
my books at him and ordered, "Here, carry these."
We walked on in silence
for another minute or two. Timing was important, so I was told.
"Are you sure you want to go through with this?" I finally asked.
He bowed his head and
mumbled a meek, "yes."
"Good," I responded
boldly, "We are going to do things all my way. I won't do anything
to hurt you, but you are going to have to do everything I say, when
I say it, exactly the way I say it. You are going to have to trust
me on this. Are you willing to do all of this?"
Another meek "yes."
We walked in more silence
until I finally asked, "What's in the bag?"
Even under the rather
dim light of the street lamps I could see his growing blush as he
stammered, "Well, you see, when I do it myself, I like to use these."
He pulled out a pair of girl's saddle shoes.
"What," I asked, "do
you do with that?"
"Well, I just sort of
kneel down and stick my penis inside and rub it around."
"Well, you're not going
to do it for me that way. I want to see you when you do it." I added
almost as an afterthought, "In fact, you're not going to do it that
way at all. If you don't do it for me, you're not allowed to do
it at all."
His jaw dropped, and
I continued, "From now on, your cock is mine. I'll let you use it
to pee with, but I control everything else. You can't play with
yourself unless I authorize it. Do you understand?"
He gulped out a meek,
"Yes".
Sexual control -- Franie
said that it would be difficult to get, but once a girl's got it,
she can do anything she wanted with her man. I thought to myself,
"So, shoe-boy has a fetish. I could do something with that!"
Aloud to him I said,
"Playing with yourself is naughty. You must confess all of your
sins to me. In the future, you will be punished for them. Now, how
many times have you been a bad boy this week?"
"Only twice. The last
time I had a chance to do anything was on Tuesday."
"Good, then you'll have
a full load for me."
We arrived at my room.
"Roger, take off all
your clothes and give them to me." I commanded as matter-of-factly
as if I had asked him to turn on a light.
He obeyed with only
the slightest hesitation. I couldn't believe how easy and satisfying
this was turning out to be.
I collected his clothes
and put them in a chest which I locked and sat on ... after I took
out my camera. He opened his mouth to protest, but I cut him off,
"Thinking about leaving?" I mocked. "Like that?"
He had no answer to
that, so I continued. "You told me you would trust me and do exactly
as I told you to do."
He nodded and looked
at his toes.
"Stand there at attention."
I ordered as I snapped a few pictures. "Now, put your hand on your
cock and pretend you're playing with it. Come on now, make it big."
I snapped a few more. I made him pose in a number of humiliating
and compromising positions while I snapped pictures to my heart's
content.
It was so easy to do.
It's amazing how much confidence and control a girl has when she
is fully dressed and standing over a naked, kneeling man. How much
I admired Franie's profound knowledge on the topic. I wondered where
she learned it all.
I went through one pack
of film as he licked my feet and another as he started to beat off
for me.
As a compromise to him,
I held out the shoes that he brought. "I'll hold it up for you.
You aim that thing so all your stuff lands inside. Aim carefully,
I don't want any of your mess on my floor."
He rewarded me with
a wonderful gush of come. I felt that special twitch inside of me
as I watched him fill the shoe. I was too involved to take a picture.
I'd have to find a way around that dilemma.
I wasn't sure what he
thought of his own stuff, but I had a deliciously disgusting idea.
"Here, take the shoe."
I said handing it to him. "I want you to dip your fingers into your
scum and rub it on your body where I tell you. I think I'll start
with your nipples."
I watched with increasing
excitement as he finger painted his body with his own fluids under
my direction. The shoe was nearly empty when I finally tired of
having him play this game.
"Get dressed." I ordered.
He looked around.
"I don't care if you
have come all over your body. That's no concern of mine. As I said
once before, you take that stuff with you. I don't want to have
to touch it or have it touch anything of mine."
He looked very uncomfortable
putting on his clothes over his wet body. I had to stifle a giggle.
Finally, he was dressed.
"When can we do this again?" he asked.
"I don't know. You just
behave yourself. I'll decide when I'll let you do it again."
"Call the shots, girl."
I thought. I felt so powerful. I loved it! "And remember, don't
touch yourself until I tell you can."
He left. The door was
closed all of 5 seconds when I had my panties down, and my fingers
up my vagina.
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