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Madame Hortense, Part Two
All stories on this web site are purely FICTIONAL. The people depicted within these stories only exist in someone's IMAGINATION. Any resemblence between anyone depicted in these stories and any real person, living or dead, is an incredible COINCIDENCE too bizarre to be believed. If you think that you or someone you know is depicted in one of these stories it's only because you're a twisted perverted little fucker who sees conspiracies and plots where none exist. You probably suspect that your own MOTHER had sex with ALIENS and COWS and stuff. Well, she didn't. It's all in your head. Now take your tranquilizers and RELAX.
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.
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