My Footstool

I search the room for My footstool in the dimly lit room. Light leaking in through the sheer curtain highlighting My form. A stool for My feet is what I need. For that I know you are ready and eager to comply.

β€œCome here pet,” you hear Me call from the living room. I have beckoned you. you crawl towards the direction My voice has come from, anxiously looking for Me. you see Me there, sitting on the couch; My summer dress moving in the faint breeze flowing through the room. My legs covered in a pair of sheer nylons, held up by a white lace garter. It’s My bright red peep-toe heels that really catch your attention. you sit there, like a dog, on all fours as you stare at My crossed legs… mesmerized by Me tapping My shoe in the air.

β€œPet! Stop staring and come here now!” I say pointing at the ground beside My feet. you continue to crawl over on your hands and knees, looking up at Me. I lean over. Sliding My two fingers into the ring of your collar I pull; jerking you towards Me, almost knocking you off balance.

Footstool needed for these beautiful red peep-toe heels to rest on. What a loser you are for Me. I cherish every second; almost as much as you do slave.
Footstool needed for these beautiful red peep-toe heels to rest on. What a loser you are for Me. I cherish every second; almost as much as you do slave.

Such A Slow footstool…

β€œCan you crawl any fucking slower little shit?!” I ask, β€œWell?!”

you hang your head. β€œI’m sorry Goddess,” you respond.

β€œNot sorry enough! you know I can make you much sorrier don’t you puppy?”

β€œYes Goddess,” you say, β€œI deserve your anger. I am just an animal.”

you’re lucky I like animals

Holding your collar I pull you up towards Me and rest your face on My lap. I pull out your leash. Excited. you know the leash means I’m going to play with you…

….

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Well of course you’re turned on, slave. The trick is learning how to channel all that energy into something useful, like making Me happy.

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