Femboy Foot Worship Novels & Stories

As I finally released the buckle and began to wiggle my foot back and forth to get it out, the car filled with a noise I didn’t immediately recognize as Cephus’s voice. “Do not take your shoes off. I know you were raised better than the majority of young women in this town who act like they’re still sixteen and could be forgiven for behaving like their entire life is one constant barn dance in which they may take their shoes off at will.” I’d gotten something closer to what I recognized as actual emotion from him by trying to remove my shoes than by any of my previous plays. It scared me. “Are you afraid the foot fetish you’ve spent so much of your fortune in therapy for is going to go rogue

Chapter 1: TEASING MY BEST FRIEND AND GETTING MY PUSSY DEVOURED IN THE DRESSING ROOM I sway my hips as I walk through the upscale lingerie boutique, the soft lighting making my skin glow. At nineteen, I’m fully aware of what I am: a filthy little exhibitionist slut who gets dripping wet the second she feels eyes on her body. The thrill of being watched, admired, wanted — it’s my addiction. Today, I dragged my best friend Sophie along for “lingerie shopping,” but we both know it’s really about me putting on a show.

Pepper gray hair, abs, and OMG there it is, the smile! Even with the mask, I would know it anywhere! Mr. Landa is my new foot fetish guy! I stare at him a moment and look at my feet. Is he going to recognize me? Have I ever worn these shoes to class?! Has he been staring at my feet in class?! He’s a foot fetish guy, he could recognize my feet more than my face. I start to feel faint when his voice pulls me back

I was satisfied with the fantasy. It became more interesting to her as I convinced her to "Be sexy", and to "enjoy her sexuality." Soon she was wearing clothes that showed how sexy she is. I encouraged her to enjoy the attention of other men. I think this was a turning point. We played a few games with strangers. For example, we did the shoe shopping thing in short skirts and sometimes without panties. We had to visit New Orleans to find a store that still placed the shoes on the ladies feet, but we did it.

There, or outside four walls, he still respected me as equals. Even so, nothing stopped me from bending down and crawling towards him. Dennis opened a singing smile, his eyes scorching with raw desire. He liked that submission. I never asked, but I liked it. It was a fetish we had in common. Because I loved the way he put me on a pedestal and treated me like someone who deserved the best of sex, but who should also deserve it.

One gets turned on by imagining being a vamp. I studied myself in a mirror. ‘It makes me look a whore. It’s the boots.’ ‘Don’t exaggerate! Immodest perhaps, concupiscent even, but that’s good.’ She seemed pleased with the effect and the adjectives to describe it. Her first in English Lit seemed more useful at that moment than my business degree. She stormed ahead. ‘Don’t blame the boots. When you move, your arse is the biggest come-on ever. It’s great! Walk up and down and swing a bit – you know, hips – side to side.’

And for much of the worship, she had her head thrown back on a pillow. Finally, she looked at her watch and saw that it was 1:25. While I was worshipping her left foot, she grabbed my still massive hard on, which was now soaking wet from pre-come, between her biggest two toes on her right foot and began twisting the head. Staring at and worshipping her two phenomenal soles while fucked up kept me extremely turned on, and one of those soles now actually touching my cock - that drove me over the edge.

Maci, no longer drenched in vomit, in that outfit, those boots, will end me. I want to fall to my knees right now. Bow. Worship. Like the deity she is, an altar I would gladly destroy myself upon. One of those boots planted on my shoulder, her thighs locked around me, claiming me, while my face is buried in her heat. The thought is enough to make my mouth water, because I already know, know, she tastes divine. Like everything good and holy in this world.

There are no pictures of dad falling during his wedding dance. I hate girl shoes. They go between your feet in unnatural ways, like flip flops, and make your heels ache. Beauty is painful. We have years of human history to back that up. My mom told me about the ancient Chinese performing a foot binding on their women's feet. I didn't understand what she meant until she showed a thirteen-year-old me the pictures of tiny shoes and broken feet. After she educated me, I was terrified of wearing lady's shoes. It is my prom day, and I am still fearful of wearing shoes that make my toes moan and ache.

It was a non-sexual act that turned him on quicker than almost anything else. "You have the word 'sucker' written on your forehead, and I'll kick his ass if he breaks our vow of celibacy because you found his weakness." Matt walked toward them and landed in one of the chairs. "I'm taking her to bed as soon as she's done," Stephon said on a moan as she pressed into the arch of his foot. She laughed. "Wow, you're easy." "And you're creating a monster." Matt rolled his eyes. "If his is a foot fetish, what's yours?" She looked at Matt with a devious grin.