166 lines
9.6 KiB
Plaintext
166 lines
9.6 KiB
Plaintext
David stood over the sink in Madame Hortense's kitchen doing
|
|
the dishes. He remembered his mistress's warning from the
|
|
previous day and did not wish to endure another tickling session.
|
|
As he stood washing plate after plate, David's mind drifted to
|
|
his mistress's feet. David had never seen Madame Hortense's
|
|
feet--she wouldn't allow it. "She always wears the those blasted
|
|
leather boots," he thought. Oh, she would allow him to lick the
|
|
heel of those boots as an alternative to tickling him on days
|
|
when she was feeling merciful, but once when David had tried to
|
|
remove her boots, Madame Hortense had jerked her foot away,
|
|
kicking David under chin in the process. "Don't you DARE EVER
|
|
try that again!" she had warned, "If you do, I'll tickle you for
|
|
twenty-four hours straight! And don't think for a moment that
|
|
I'm joking!" Could it be that his mistress's feet were as
|
|
ticklish as his? Where else was she ticklish, he wondered. He
|
|
had to find out.
|
|
The sound of a key turning at the front door startled David
|
|
out of his reverie. Madame Hortense was home! "Good evening,
|
|
Mistress," David called.
|
|
Madame Hortense tossed her head disdainfully and strode to
|
|
the kitchen. "I see you remembered the dishes today," she said
|
|
sharply.
|
|
"Yes, Mistress."
|
|
"I'm going upstairs to lie down for a bit. And don't you
|
|
dare even THINK about disturbing me. Is that clear, slave?"
|
|
"Yes, very clear, ma'am," David sighed, and he turned to
|
|
finish the dishes. In the distance he could hear the clump,
|
|
clump, clump of Madame Hortense's black leather boots on the
|
|
stairs. He tried to visualize her feet encased in those boots;
|
|
feet he had never been allowed to see. And then he went back to
|
|
doing the dishes.
|
|
|
|
* * *
|
|
|
|
When he had finished with the dishes, David went to his
|
|
quarters in the dungeon and sat on his cot. He daydreamed of
|
|
turning the tables on Madame Hortense and tickling her for a
|
|
change. HE would tie HER to the four-poster for a change and
|
|
have his way with her. But he DARE not cross his mistress.
|
|
Madame Hortense could be very cruel and vindictive when crossed
|
|
and David dare not risk it. But still, the thought of his
|
|
mistress lying asleep upstairs and totally unaware of what he was
|
|
thinking would not leave him. He had to at least get a look at
|
|
Madame Hortense's feet! The feet he longed to worship! The feet
|
|
he longed to tickle!
|
|
|
|
* * *
|
|
|
|
David slowly crept upstairs to Madame Hortense's chambers.
|
|
His mistress lie asleep on her stomach on the four-poster bed.
|
|
She was deep in slumber and David could hear her snoring from the
|
|
time he reached the first landing of the stairwell. David
|
|
surveyed his mistress in her black leather outfit, the menacing
|
|
leather blouse and those tight-fitting leather slacks. The
|
|
leather boots were still on her feet. David's heart trembled.
|
|
Did he dare attempt to remove those boots. He knew Madame
|
|
Hortense would be furious when she awoke and would subject him to
|
|
another of her infamous tickling marathons. But David's
|
|
curiosity got the better of him and he slowly, gently attempted
|
|
to remove the boot from Madame Hortense's left foot. Madame
|
|
Hortense emitted a broken snore and moved her left leg slightly.
|
|
For one frightening moment David thought he had awakened her, but
|
|
his mistress only stirred slightly, and the drone of her loud
|
|
snoring continued. "She sure is a sound sleeper," David
|
|
thought, "thank God!" David slid the boot off the rest of the
|
|
way--and gazed down at the specter of Madame Hortense's shapely,
|
|
left foot. He noticed the sculptured shape, the long unpolished
|
|
toenails. He dared to plant a kiss upon her heel. Madame
|
|
Hortense stirred slightly, but still slept. He thought he'd
|
|
chance the right boot now. Slowly, slowly, David removed his
|
|
mistress's other boot. Again Madame Hortense stirred in her
|
|
sleep but did not wake. David now survey his mistress's right
|
|
foot, even more shapely than the other. He planted a kiss to pay
|
|
his homage. He gazed almost trance-like at those gorgeous peds.
|
|
He would gladly pay homage to them hourly if only Madame Hortense
|
|
would let him. But then his mind suddenly reverted to his
|
|
original intent. "I came to tickle Madame Hortense's feet, not
|
|
to worship them," he thought slyly.
|
|
|
|
* * *
|
|
|
|
David steeled his courage. There was no turning back now.
|
|
Madame Hortense was still deep in slumber snoring decibels. He
|
|
slowly reached inside the beside table drawer for the long
|
|
feather. Stroking it in his hands. He sauntered around to the
|
|
foot of the bed where Madame Hortense's exposed bare feet were
|
|
just waiting for him. He ran the feather up the sole of her left
|
|
foot slowly. Madame Hortense moaned incoherently. David moved
|
|
the feather slowly down Madame Hortense's foot. She snickered in
|
|
her sleep. David got a little bolder and stroked Madame
|
|
Hortense's foot up and down repeatedly with the feather. She was
|
|
starting to awaken from her slumber but was still not totally
|
|
aware of what was happening. David now started tickling her
|
|
right foot with the feather. Madame Hortense was fully awake now
|
|
and furious. All of a sudden David realized that in his
|
|
enthusiasm he had forgotten to tie his mistress to the bedpost.
|
|
Fear engulfed him as Madame Hortense, fully conscious and in
|
|
complete control of her faculties lunged at her disobedient
|
|
slave. David tried to run, but Madame Hortense was to quick for
|
|
him despite her size. She tackled him like Frig Perry going
|
|
after John Elway and had him on the floor helpless. Her fingers
|
|
danced over his ribs. "HAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHA!" he cackled
|
|
helplessly.
|
|
"You disobedient little twit, I told you not to disturb me!
|
|
This is what happens to insubordinate slaves!" she bellowed
|
|
tickling his sides with her strong fingers.
|
|
David was laughing uncontrollably. He knew that if he could
|
|
get at his mistress's feet he could take advantage of her. But
|
|
how could he reach them with her on top of him tickling him
|
|
senseless. This was a good time to see if Madame Hortense had
|
|
any other ticklish spots, and so in desperation, with his last
|
|
ounce of strength, David reach out for his mistress's stomach and
|
|
started a tickling motion. Madame Hortense burst into gales of
|
|
uncontrollable laughter. She rolled over on her back and David
|
|
was quickly on top of her.
|
|
"HOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHOHO!" she
|
|
laughed in spite of herself, her laughter filling the house.
|
|
David had her now. He reached down and ran his fingers over his
|
|
mistress's ticklish soles. "HOHOHOAHAOHAOHOAHAAA!" she snickered,
|
|
"You little twit, I'll get you for this! I'm going to give you
|
|
the tickling of you life when I get my hands on you! Now stop
|
|
it! Stop it now!" But David wouldn't stop. He tickled Madame
|
|
Hortense's soles, then her insteps, toes and heels. Madame
|
|
Hortense was weak from exhaustion. The one mighty mistress had
|
|
been humbled by her slave. She heaved broken gales of laughter,
|
|
furious that her slave had discovered her weakness, but to weak
|
|
to fight back. David took Madame Hortense's left foot in his
|
|
hand and kissed it. "You have such beautiful feet, mistress.
|
|
Why do you hide them in those boots?" Madame Hortense uttered a
|
|
few incoherent phrase on the order of "it's not your place to
|
|
ask, slave" as David continued kissing her foot. He kissed the
|
|
sole, the instep, the heel, and finally took her big toe into his
|
|
mouth and sucked it slowly. Madame Hortense moaned in pleasure
|
|
in spite of herself, she was still furious at David but for now
|
|
was enjoying the homage he was paying to her feet. Perhaps she
|
|
would incorporate this into his punishment sessions from now on.
|
|
David sucked each one of his mistress's toes and then picked up
|
|
her other foot and gazed at it reverently.
|
|
"Are you enjoying kissing my feet, slave?" she asked
|
|
inquisitively.
|
|
"Yes, mistress," he replied. "It's a pleasure I've yearned
|
|
for."
|
|
"Well stop talking about it tend to my other foot!" she
|
|
snapped, slowly regaining her composure and control. "Or would
|
|
you rather suffer another tickling session under the weight of
|
|
the feather?"
|
|
David took her right foot into his lips and kissed it
|
|
tenderly from toes to heel. Madame Hortense moaned in pleasure
|
|
and the remnant of a smile even crossed her face.
|
|
"Suck my toes, slave," she cooed. "Let me see what you're
|
|
made of."
|
|
David took his mistress's toes into his mouth and sucked
|
|
tenderly. "That's a good little slave," she cooed. "I'll let
|
|
this be your punishment for waking me. You be a good little
|
|
slave and I might ALLOW you to tickle me when I'm one of my
|
|
more generous moods. But if you EVER try another stunt like
|
|
this, I'll subject you to the loooongest tickling session you've
|
|
ever had. Is that understood?"
|
|
"Yes mistress," he said, and he continued sucking her toes.
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
What's in store next for Madame Hortense and her slave?
|
|
|
|
Stay tuned.
|