Feet Fetish Novels & Stories

"This person in question, male or female would arouse and be an object of your feral Desires. My desires." "Male or female?" Calvin asked with a scoff. "It's female or nothing. So you better control that desire around anything male." "Go to bed, Calvin" The wolf groaned loudly.

"Using a whip yes, but there'll be blood if you even try a spanking." "Hmm, what if our next sub thinks it's sexy to watch my hand land on your ass?" "No putting ideas in her head or I'll return the favor. But my feet do need a little TLC right now." Matt rose from the couch and the feet in question landed with a thump on the floor. "I'm sure you can find someone at this decadent hotel to give you a foot massage. That's crossing the line for me." Stephon arched his eyebrows and lowered his voice. "I'd pay really well for you to satisfy my foot fetish."

He nearly came in his pants. His first orgasm was watching a woman suck the toes of another woman. The feet were perfect. Red toenail polish, white, but slightly tan feet. Both women were naked, but all they did was play with each other's feet. He had never seen videos like these. He wondered why he had never seen any videos of foot sex, then he realized that there was a separate category in the Tags section for "Foot Fetish." They probably didn't get sorted with the mainstream videos. "Is that what this is about?" He whispered to himself. "Do I have a foot fetish?"

Our body fluids mixed into a scent that was to become my new olfactory fetish. “Call me Master,” he said softly, his ears resting on my lips. “Master,” I moaned, making enough hot air to make his body shiver. “Fuck yes,” he said, thrusts getting faster, eyes closed. “You own this pussy, Master,” I moaned louder into his ears, my hips meeting his thrusts. “Oh,” he sang in a way that softened me up, sending a vibration over my core.

I nod, he so often knows what I need without me even speaking. "You see, I watch very closely Kitty, which is how I learnt that this". His hand moves, the flogger along my body, moaning I look at it. "That you react differently with PVC and Rubber than anything else. I have been watching closely and learning, that this little thing here, is your fetish". He moves the flogger between his hands. "Really Master?". He nods, “I don't think I have a fetish for it.”

“You know what? I have the perfect cat for you. He’s a new face around here but I can tell he’s desperate for a play. You’ve always been my best gal so why don’t you take him?” She hands me a file with a list of the sub’s interests: objectification, degradation, findom, voyeurism, exhibitionism, feet fetish, temperature play, sadism/masochism, breath play, anal play, feminization, but golden shower is at the top of the list. I smile. “He’s perfect! I guess I’ll need a drink. Plenty of drinks!” I say with a wink. **** The room is lit with red bulbs. I see him immediately, kneeling on the floor with his head down.

He looked up at me as if asking for permission—not with words, but with eyes that burned with something primal. I looked away and lifted my legs so he could slide them off. He took his time. The fabric skimmed down my thighs, over my knees, and past my ankles. And then, like worship, he kissed the top of my foot. Then he kissed my ankle. Then the inside of my calf. Higher. The curve of my knee. Higher. My inner thigh. Every kiss was torture to my skin. I hated the way it felt. Does he have a foot fetish or what?

This was getting deeper and deeper than I ever imagined sex and sexual fantasies could go! “The seventh floor is for all things fetish,” I had to interrupt him on that! “What kind of fetishes?” “Oh…like sucking toes and feet, if you like to be covered in cum to finish your night, if you like your partner to lead you around on a leash and treat you like a pet, if you want toys used on you that are not the typical things, some wolves like to urinate on their she-wolf partners to mark them as part of their territory without…marking them as their mate, transgender wolves and she-wolves like to play on that floor,” He tries to give clarification.

The adoration that lights up his eyes when he gazes at my bare feet stokes my lust like nothing else. You see, feet are Jesse’s fetish, but mine is being in control of Jesse. These two desires complement each other perfectly. I choose when and where he’s allowed the honor of worshipping my feet, and in the end we both wind up satisfied. Jesse had been such a good boy all week—taking

“Do you need a break?” I shake my head, not as a response to his question, but to the internal battle about to consume me. “Good.” He assumes it is my reply and resumes his job. I take a deep breath. Eyes on him, but not for long I start battling the urge to look down. Foot fetish is my dark fantasy. One that I’d rather take to my grave than explore. Because one silly mistake and it may affect my brand. “Pose like you're selling those straps to me.” He groans, quite frustrated at my poses. “Tilt your face… just a little…”