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Madame Hortense, Part Nine
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.
Madame Hortense surveyed the limp, lifeless body draped
across her lap. She raised David's wrist high in the air and
watched as his hand fell listlessly at his side when she released
it. She lifted one of David eyelids. "Hello, this is Madame
Hortense," she called softly, "can David come out and play?"
When there was no response, she peeled back David's other eyelid
calling, "Earth to David, Earth to David, come out, come out
wherever you are." When David again failed to respond, she
tickled his foot. David emitted a soft giggle. "THERE you are!"
she exclaimed. "For a moment I thought I'd lost you. How are
you? Did you enjoy your tickling session?"
"Yes, Mistress," he uttered softly, "may I please have
another?"
"I'll tickle you again later," she assured him. "You still
have one coming for disobeying my orders not to whistle while you
wash dishes, but for now you have another matter facing you."
"What can that be, Mistress?" David inquired.
"All that splashing you did in there has gotten soap scum
all over me, and all over my precious leather outfit. Just look
at me! Why there's soap scum all over my leather blouse and
slacks, and even on my precious leather boots! I want you to get
down on your knees and lick that soap scum off my boots right
now, buster!"
David complied, and knelt to kiss his mistress's boots. He
extended his tongue and applied it to her precious footwear.
"Lick my boots good, slave," she bade, "I want you to get all
that soap scum off my boots...that's a good slave...obey your
mistress...lick my boots clean...you be a good little slavie-boy
and Mommy will let you sample her toes...that's right, Mommy
knows how much you love to kiss her feet...but first you must
clean Mommy's boots." David licked the heel of Madame Hortense's
right boot and worked his way forward to the toe. "Lick the
uppers, darling," his mistress bade. David complied, and licked
his mistress's right boot all the way up to the hip. "Lick my
other boot now, slave," she bade him. "Start at the hip, and
lick down to the toe." David complied eagerly, hoping his
mistress would be pleased, and allow him to lick her bare feet.
"That's a good slave," she encouraged him, "that's a VERY good
slave. I knew I could count on you to please me...that's why I'm
so fond of you...oh, you missed a spot, you're not getting all
the soap scum off...I told you I want all that soap scum off my
boots, do you understand? Otherwise I'll have to tickle you
again...and you wouldn't want THAT, would you?" Madame Hortense
smiled knowingly. "Thaat's better...that's much much
better...you're a good slave, David, you just need to have more
training...keeep licking...that's good...I give you permission to
remove my boots...slowly, David, slowly."
David started slowly removing Madame Hortense's boots, first
the left boot and then the right one. He knelt to plant a kiss
on his mistress's toe.
"Did I give you permission to kiss my toes?" Madame
Hortense inquired.
"No ma'am," David answered simply.
"Then why did you do it?" his mistress scolded, and she
tickled David's sides with her long fingernails. David jumped
sky-high. "That's just to remind you, slave, that you don't
proceed to do ANYTHING without my permission. Have you forgotten
EVERYTHING I've taught you?"
"No, ma'am," David replied.
"No, MISTRESS!" Madame Hortense corrected him.
"No, Mistress," David repeated.
"Do you suppose you can remember to wait for my permission
before you just go ahead and do things?" she lectured him.
"Yes, Mistress."
"Good. In that case, I give you permission to lick my toes
only...my toes ONLY."
David proceeded to licked Madame Hortense's toes. "Top and
bottom, dear," she exhorted him. "Lick aaall the way across the
tops and aaall the way across the bottoms...very GOOD, David, you
learn so quickly...now I want you to lick between my
toes...between my toes...get your tongue inside each nook and
cranny and lick it good...Do my toes still taste salty?"
"Yes, Madame Hortense."
"Tangy and delicious?"
"Yes, Madame Hortense. Very tangy and delicious."
"Don't talk with your mouth full, love...now I want you suck
aaall my toes...suck aaall my toes...as many as you can fit in
your mouth at one time...mmmmmm, very nice...ah ah ah, you're
starting to tickle me...you know that's not allowed on
weekdays...I'll assess you another hour of tickle time if you
keep that up...thaat's better...just a nice, soft suck...mmmm, I
may have you keep this up all day...would you like that?"
"Yes, Mistress," David replied eagerly.
"Are you enjoying sucking my toes?"
"Yes, very much, Madame Hortense."
"Do you suppose that you can fit a couple more toes into
your big mouth? I'll give you next Monday off if you can fit all
ten of my toes into your mouth and hold them there."
The prospect of three straight days of freedom brought a
rush to David's head. He eagerly contorted his mouth to try to
accommodate all ten of his mistress's toes. He held his
mistress's feet in his hands and tried to push her sacred digits
into his mouth from several different angles. He finally managed
to get all but the smallest toe on her left foot inserted into
his mouth. He tried to push the stubborn digit in, but it just
wouldn't go. Madame Hortense was laughing softly (at her slave's
plight, NOT from being tickled). Finally after several minutes
of oral push-ups he managed to get it in. It slipped out
almost immediately. "Aaaw, too bad," his mistress pouted, "you
don't get Monday off. But, for your consolation prize, I give
you permission to kiss and lick all other portions of my feet.
So have at them, and enjoy yourself."
David proceeded to smother his mistress's feet with kisses.
He planted kisses all up and down Madame Hortense's feet. He
kissed the tips of her toes, her metatarsal bones, her insteps
and her ankles. He kissed the heels of her shapely feet and then
paid homage to her soles. "It seems I have an eager foot slave
in toe," Madame Hortense mused, "I can feel it in my sole."
"Just staying instep with the times, Mistress," David
responded.
"Oho! A slave with a sense of humor," Madame Hortense
exclaimed softly. "Let's go upstairs to the Mistress Bedroom."
"Shall I put your boots back on your feet, Madame Hortense?"
David asked.
"Oh, just leave them there," she said with a wave of her
hand. "I'll go barefoot. Follow me."
Madame Hortense led the way upstairs to the Mistress
Bedroom. David followed three steps behind her, his eyes firmly
riveted on her shapely feet. The subdued thump, thump, thump of
her feet on the stairs was bringing a rush to David's head. This
was another milestone. Madame Hortense would never have before
DREAMED of walking barefoot through the house. She used the
clump, clump, clump of her boots to intimidate David and as a
reminder that she was always there--and knew what he was
thinking. When they got to the Mistress Bedroom, Madame Hortense
motioned towards the bed. "Have a seat, slave." she exhorted.
David sat down on the bed. Madame Hortense lay down on the bed
with her shapely bare feet propped up in David's lap. "See my
pretty feet?" she inquired wiggling her toes.
"Yes, Mistress, they're lovely," replied the mesmerized
David.
"Take them in your hands now and study them...scrutinize
them...observe them. I want you to become thoroughly familiar
with my feet. You're going to be seeing a lot of them in the
future...yes, I thought that would please you. I want you to
memorize every detail, every nook and cranny. There may come a
time in the future when I'll command you to kiss or lick a very
specific location on my feet, and failure to pay homage to that
exact spot may result in an extended tickling session for you.
Do you understand?"
"Yes, Mistress, I understand," replied the entranced David.
He held Madame Hortense's feet reverently in his hands. He could
scarcely believe he was actually holding the objects of his
heart's desire right in the palms of his hands. He had reached
nirvana. He observed the long, shapely, unpainted toes, the
texture of the skin, the pronounced arch, the feet so shapely
and beautiful. He planted a kiss on her arch in adoration.
Madame Hortense eyed him sternly.
"Didn't I just finish lecturing you about proceeding without
my permission?"
"I'm sorry, Mistress," he uttered abjectly, shaken from his
reverie.
"That's all right," his mistress reassured him, "You have
my permission to do whatever it takes for you to become
thoroughly familiar with my feet. BUT NO TICKLING!"
David caressed his mistress's precious peds. He massaged
her toes and arches deeply to get a real feel for the contours of
her feet.
"I seem to be getting a nice foot massage out of this deal,"
Madame Hortense said with a vacant smile.
"Am I pleasing you, Mistress?" David inquired.
"Just carry on, David," said Madame Hortense lying back on
the pillow closing her eyes, enjoying the deep massage her feet
were getting as her slave went about doing his homework,
"just...carry on...I'm going to take a little nap while you
massage my feet, love...keeep studying...I'm going to give you a
test...when I awaken."
[ to be continued ]
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