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Madame Hortense, Part Four
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.
They ascended the stairs together, David in his slippers and
Madame Hortense with her sandals going flap, flap, flap. Of
course David stayed two steps below his mistress out of respect.
When they reached the top of the stairs, Madame Hortense took her
slave by the hand and led him into the Mistress Bedroom. David
was puzzled. "Madame Hortense, whatever can you be thinking?" he
inquired. Madame Hortense pushed him down onto the bed. "Don't
ask questions! It's not your place to question me!" she
snapped. She reached inside the night stand beside the bed and
retrieved some silk scarves. She tied David's hand and feet to
the big four-poster.
"Madame Hortense, have I done something to offend you?"
David asked pleadingly.
Madame Hortense slapped him across the face. "Stop asking
me questions, or I'll cancel your day off!" she snapped.
"You've already spoiled the GOOD mood I was in, so don't do
ANYTHING else to upset me the rest of the day, do you understand
me? SLAVE!"
"Yes, Mistress," he replied weakly.
Madame Hortense pushed one sandaled foot into David's face
tauntingly. "Do you like my sandals?" she taunted.
"Yes, Mistress," David said, his mouth watering. "They look
so lovely on your feet,"
"And did you enjoy worshipping my feet this morning?
Hmmmm?" she cooed teasingly.
"Yes, yes, Mistress," David replied breathlessly and he
extended his tongue to his Mistress's toe.
Madame Hortense pulled her foot away abruptly. David's
heart sank. Why was she torturing him this way? Madame Hortense
walked around the side of the bed, chin in hand, surveying her
captive slave. David's eyes never left her feet as she walked to
the foot of the bed. Madame Hortense stood at the foot of the
bed, chin in hand, cocking her head from side to side emitting an
occasional "Hmmmm, hmmmm." She stood looking at David for what
seemed to him to be an eternity. A broad smile crossed her face
as she knelt and slowly removed the slipper from David's left
foot. David gulped. He knew the worst was coming. Madame
Hortense held David's foot in her hand and examined it from
various angles, almost as if seeing it for the first time. "My,
my, what a pretty foot we have here!" she exclaimed in mock
astonishment and she stroked David's foot with one of her long
fingernails. David resigned himself to the fact that he was
about to be tickled. But his mistress DIDN'T tickle him; rather
she mused, "I wonder if my little slave likes to RECEIVE as well
as give," and she took David's big toe into her mouth and sucked
it.
"Since you did such a good job on my feet this morning," she
explained, "I've decided to return the favor--just to show you
that I'm NOT the cold, heartless bitch you think I am," and she
continued her sucking. She darted her tongue into and all around
David's toe crevices, sucking his toes from the biggest to the
smallest. She stroked David's foot with her long fingernails;
not a torturing tickle-stroke but just enough to let him know
that she could still turn this reverse foot worship session into
wholesale tickle-torture if she decided to. David sighed in
ecstasy. He could hardly believe it was real! Here he was
having his own foot serviced by his mistress! He wanted to pinch
himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming, but he couldn't with his
hands tied to the four-poster. Madame Hortense slowly removed
David's other slipper. "Noooooow," she exclaimed, "let's see
about this other foot. Hmmmm, it's just as pretty as the other
one! Let me taste the toes." She took David's right foot into
her mouth. "Mmmmm, very tasty," she exclaimed. "I didn't know
you had such tasty toes, slave."
"Why thank you, Mistress. I'm pleased that you like them,"
David exclaimed vacantly.
"Yes, they're very strong and very shapely," she said
stroking both his feet with her long fingernails. She placed her
fingers in David's toe crevices and stroked his soles with her
thumbnails. "Kootchy, kootchy," she cooed. David started
snickering. "Kootchy, kootchy," his mistress cooed again.
David's snickerings turned to smirks. "Is mommy's widdle baby
tickwish on his soles? Hmmmmm?" she cooed teasingly. David
couldn't hold back his laughter any longer. Madame Hortense
continued tickling his soles with her thumbnails, the rest of her
fingers firmly implanted in his toe crevices. All of a sudden,
David realized that Madame Hortense had suckered him. She had
only pretended to be submissive, and now she had him right where
she wanted him--tied helplessly to the four-poster bed. Madame
Hortense smiled a sly smile. "Now I've got you, you miserable
little wimp! Did you honestly think I was going to turn
submissive on you! NO WAY!" She removed her fingers from his
toe crevices and started tickling him full force on the soles of
his feet.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!" David laughed in spite of
himself. "Madame Hortense, you're cruel," he said between gales
of laughter.
"Oh, I'm a cold, heartless bitch," she admitted, "and you
LOVE it." She accelerated her tickling, moving to the tops of
his feet and up his legs. "Such a gullible little slave you
are," she said tickling him inside his thighs and on his flanks.
She ripped open his shirt exposing his bare chest. Her eyes
widened and she thought to herself, "ALL MINE!" and her fingers
danced over David's stomach and chest. David was beside himself
with laughter. The bed shook as he bucked and ground against the
weight of the scarves tied around his hands and feet.
"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Oh, please, Madame Hortense,
stop!" he said breathlessly.
Madame Hortense paid him no mind. She started tickling his
ears, eyelids, and forehead. David was starting to lose
consciousness. Madame Hortense danced her fingernails back down
David's upper torso. When she got to his belly, his body went
limp. A less sturdy bed than the four-poster would have
collapsed under David's sagging weight.
Madame Hortense peeled back David's eyelid, kissed his
forehead, and patted him gently on the cheek. "Rest now, my
love," she said gently.
[ to be continued ]X-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-X
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