0 comments/ 6208 views/ 0 favorites My Brown Sugar By: Showtorious Based on a true story... * Lying together in bed, watching one of my favorite movies, Brown Sugar... it was the end of a great night that I would never forget. I received an email a week earlier from Nita, a sweet girl from Seattle who had been living in Las Vegas for a short while. By the sound of her tone, she had some bad luck when it came to male friends in her life, and was looking for a new one. Naturally, I was happy to oblige. She happened to be on my side of town one Friday afternoon, so I decided to forgo my lunch and meet with her instead. She sent me a text little bit after 1:00pm telling me she was outside my office, a Lexus dealership, and I quickly made my way to the parking lot to greet her. As I approached her silver Honda Accord, the vision of her figure came more into focus. Nita had on a casual brown shirt, brown shoes and jean shorts that really highlighted her soft and luscious legs. She was a medium built, full figured woman and was breathtakingly gorgeous! Her eyes, lips and body was beautifully proportionate. We connected instantly. The funny thing about the first encounter with Nita is that I don't recall any of the conversation we had in detail. We joked around, had some small talk and discussed what I did for Lexus, as well as why she was completely on the opposite side of town from which she lived. All I know is that I was mesmerized by her voice. I wasn't sure if she was a singer or not, but her tone was angelic. I couldn't help but to continue to smile and gaze into the browns of her eyes. We only had about 45 minutes together, certainly not long enough for a deep conversation, so we agreed to continue our encounter later that night, at my Summerlin home. Before we went our separate ways however, we embraced in a full on passionate kiss goodbye. So passionate, in fact that it sent me back to my office not only with a smile, but aroused in anticipation of the night ahead. Nita showed up at my house just after 8:30 that night. Positively gorgeous, now she wore a small, form fitting jean mini shirt, blue shirt and midlevel heeled sandals. I gave her a hug and invited her into my living room, just before offering her one of my signature drinks; a combination of cran-apple juice, Bacardi and Malibu coconut rum which I called a Showlucination. I quickly conjured up the beverage and joined her on the living room couch, where we restarted our session of small talk. As she finished her drink, she inquired that she'd like the grand tour of my house. I explained that due to only actually renting a room there, it wasn't much-- but the room was indeed large enough to resemble a studio apartment. That said, I could never deny such a beautiful voice's demands, so we made our way upstairs to the bedroom. She was greeted upon entry by my cat, who is always vocal towards my company. For a good while, she hadn't been used to seeing anyone there other than my female sidekick Leilani, so Kitty made sure to say hello to Nita before hiding herself effectively in my closet. I didn't prepare for a visit upstairs that night, so my bed was unmade. I pulled the comforter up to make it more presentable and turned the TV on, which Brown Sugar had been already been queued up in the DVD player. When I turned around to reface Nita, and proclaim, "So, this is my room!" she stood there before me, completely undressed, as I failed to notice she began removing her clothes as soon as we walked into the room. Both of Nita's nipples were pierced, which was new to me. She also had a small tattoo of one of my favorite Disney characters, Goofy on her right breast. At that time I had never been with a woman that had tats and nipple jewelry , so my excitement was strengthened upon that sight. As I stood in front of her feeling her smooth brown skin, and soft body, she loosened my pants and they fell to the floor. She cupped my balls and moved her hand from the base of my shaft to the head, massaging, and gently squeezing the firm tip. Like a gravitational pull, I found myself falling back gently onto my bed, with her right hand on my chest guiding me down which was followed by a sucking session that I could only be compared to the dramatics on camera caught by the good people at Vivid Video. My eyes rolled to the back of my head and my toes curled. My body tingled and shook as she worked my knob with her hands, mouth and tongue. Never before have a felt such a great sense of oral satisfaction until this night. She continued for several minutes before I stopped her so that I could return the favor. I began by kissing her lips, and her neck. I bit the lobes of her ears gently. I kissed her shoulders and chest. I sucked on both of her hardened nipples and played with her sexual jewelry with my tongue. I sucked on her stomach, and kissed on her thighs, then rolled my tongue slightly over her clit before making my way back onto her thighs, tonguing down her knees, calves and the arches of her feet. I even took the time to suck and lick each and every one of her toes before diving north and savoring her succulent flavor. I licked her clit in a circular motion, at the same time using the bottom of my mouth to cover her entire princess galaxy. This way I was able to sop up all the fluids she squirted into my throat. I kissed and pleasured her hidden well with all my heart. My tongue stayed firm and active for nearly 40 minutes between her legs. Before I even thought of penetration I wanted to feel the vibration of her orgasms on my cheeks. I wanted to taste the warm explosion of her g-spot as my buds tingled her interior sensory. As she climaxed, her legs tightened around my face. I smiled with a sense of victory as I kissed the insides of her thighs. As she released her leg grip from my head, I repositioned myself on top of her into missionary position. I kissed her lips to allow her to taste her own nectar, then penetrated deep into the very cavern in which my mouth had made its temporary home. Excited, I moved slowly so that I didn't finish too quickly. I maintained proper arm posture so I could look into her eyes as I maneuvered in and out of her, giving her my every inch. Every time I sensed myself losing control, I would pull out and alternate penetration with gentle kisses to her clitoris and on the insides of her thighs. I pulled her to a seated position then guided her to her knees. I gave the cheek of her ass a quick peck from my lips, then positioned myself behind her. I thirsted deep inside from her rear slow and steady, keeping rhythm with every jiggle of her backside. As I worked my magic, I glanced down to see a tattoo across her lower back of the Seattle skyline, with words reading Seattle's Best above it. We may not have been talking about coffee, but at that very moment I pulled myself from her insides and effectively submitted a hearty dose of warm cream upon that very tattoo. I remained positioned behind her as I caught my breath, watching my warm semen spider down the sides of her back and between the cheeks of her behind. I fell down beside her, and I gave her a look. She smiled back, still on her knees in the doggie style position. She knew that had been one of the best lovemaking sessions I ever had. I rolled from the bed and grabbed a fresh hand towel from my laundry basket to gently wipe her down. As I cleaned my friend's rear, I noticed several other tattoos on her body. A treble clef musical note on her shoulder, which confirmed my suspicion of her elegantly tuned voice and passion for music and a another Goofy on the exterior of her left calf. Deep inside my heart, I was beginning to think that I found the perfect sexual partner and eventually, I would have to make her mine emotionally. The thought of potentially pursuing a relationship with Nita stimulated me on its own merits. So much that I found myself at full attention once more. From my back, lying next to Nita, I began to lightly stroke myself with my left hand as I gazed at her. I took a couple of my right fingers into my mouth to moisten them, then gently inserted them in between her walls. I motioned them slowly and thoroughly so that I could feel ever ripple of her soft interior tissue. She then rose to a seated position, and took me into our mouth one more, but just for a moment. She wiped the corner of her lips with a single finger as she rose and stood over me. I admired her glistening goddess body as she began her descent, squatting over me and taking my manhood into her. She thrust her hips in a forward movement and again I could feel every sector of her coochie compound. I reached up and gripped the tips of each of her nipples as she navigated my penis with expert precision. She had a perfect angle of riding penetration that allowed the her fluids mixed with the cool air conditioning to really do a stimulation number on my raw, pulsating member. Soon, I turned her over on her back to resume the missionary position that we started the night in. We had come full circle sexually as I pounded between her legs until she began to climax. Shortly after she had reached the peak of her arousal, I finished as well. At that moment, it felt as if I spewed my heart and soul into her, forever creating a emotional connection with my new friend. Exhausted, I fell out of Nita's glory to lay beside her atop of my comforter on my bed. The cat, who had obviously waited for the commotion to end had also re-appeared from the closet and hopped on the bed between us. Little did I know that this would be a preview of my life's future. A beautiful woman and a loving pet by my side. Satisfied and optimistic, I reached over and pressed play, as the sounds and visions of Brown Sugar illuminated the remainder of our night. My Brown Sugar Domme When I agreed to meet Princess Tawny, I never in a million years expected that a) it would actually happen, or b) anything would come of it. I've had my share of online "dalliances," even meeting a couple of women for a little fetish fun, but nothing like this... nothing that would so completely consume me and change my world. But, I'm getting ahead of myself. It all began one night while I was surfing the 'Net, bored out of my mind. I was doing my usual chat room ping-pong thing, bouncing from one room to the next, trying to find people who were both enjoyable to talk with and tolerant of other folks' sexual tastes (I had chosen my "TastingHerToes" screen name for the evening's romp, and it more often than not met with a wide range of responses, ranging from disgust to downright belligerence). As the night progressed, I found myself entering rooms with more and more provocative headings, more sexually intriguing, if sometimes slightly masked by more commonly accepted euphemisms. Even online, most people don't want to PUMMEL others with their interests. Hence, I ended up in a room entitled "Bossy Black Babes." The heading alone got my danglies twitching. I've long had fantasies involving black women, so I thought I'd enter the room and simply watch the proceedings for a bit, just to gauge the room participants' honesty and openness. I can spot a phony or a closed-minded dweeb a mile away. And this way I could simply observe for a bit to see if it was the type of crowd I'd enjoy gabbing with. So, in I went. No expectations, just curiosity and a boatload of boredom. Besides, I'm so white I glow in the dark, and therefore expected to be zapped from the room immediately if this was supposed to be a blacks only room. Again, I could only wait and see. But how incognito can a person be with my kind of blatant screen name? A few folks in the room noticed me on the participants list and when the room announced my arrival, and immediately began with their snide comments and the trite toe jokes everyone always thinks are so funny, no matter how many times they've all heard them before. I simply sat back and watched, amused at how small minds seemed to band together. Mob mentality. And the more open-minded in the room kept quiet, so as not to get caught supporting the target of everyone's jibes and thus becoming a target themselves. Typical online bully and wall flower behavior. Shaking my head with pity for those sad chatters, I clicked out of the room to continue my search for a desirable group of intelligent folks, when my Instant Message box popped up. The screen name that "spoke" to me as "PRINCESSTawnyToYou." Her message read, "Don't mind them. They're nice enough people, just a little narrow-minded." I hesitated for a second, digesting the message. Before I could reply, the message continued, "My name is Tawny, though I prefer PRINCESS Tawny. I love your profile. Everything you like, I like too. Want to discuss it?" Without going into the conversation's specifics, it suffices to say that we chatted for the next hour or so, each of us feeling completely comfortable with the other. I read her profile as she had already read mine. We did indeed have much in common, specifically from a sexual aspect. As I caught glimpses of her profile between comments in IM, I saw that she was as kinky as I was, and she reveled in her sexuality, especially her dominant persona. Reading her profile helped me find the courage to ask her questions and reply openly to hers in return. In short, in no time at all we'd hit it off beautifully! No one was more shocked than myself. Luck is not something I have in great abundance - at least not GOOD luck. So, I was wary, trying to read between the lines, capturing yet another sick online fake. But, it didn't happen. Tawny seemed more real and more adorable with each sentence. Slowly, my reservations - and what few inhibitions I have - melted away. Over time, the initial IM's led to many emails, sexually provocative discussions of almost every possible nature. Tawny seemed not only very intelligent, but wickedly imaginative. Her list of sexual fantasies and variations thereof rivaled my own. She seemed eager to delve into the enticing world of erotic role play. Almost anything I spoke of she was willing to try, and vice versa. It was as if our minds and souls were cast in the same mold. And with each chat and email we felt more and more as if we'd known each other for decades. But, through all of this, we never exchanged photos. I told her I have personal reasons for not putting my picture online, and she was okay with that. However, I described myself completely honestly, with all my physical flaws. She didn't seem to care. Likewise, I'm not into physical appearance, so I didn't care that she didn't send a photo. We accepted each other as we were. Looks, after all, mean very little. The vast majority of sexual arousal comes from what's in the mind. Appearance, at least for me, has very little to do with it. I've known gorgeous women who were about as sexually interesting as a box of Kleenex, and plain women who've repeatedly knocked my socks off. So, a lack of photos (which you can't always trust online, anyway) meant nothing to me. Tawny was obviously incredible, even if she looked like Quasimodo. That having been said, apparently Tawny picked herself up a digital camera at some point. About two weeks before our first meeting she emailed me a photo. In fact, that's all she wrote in the subject box... just "photo." Now, even though I don't consider a person's looks to be the deciding factor in whether or not I'm willing to meet them in person, I admit I was extremely curious about this woman. And, for all I knew, she'd sent me a photo of her car or a favorite painting. So, again expecting nothing, I opened the pic file... ...and was stunned. Since I had repeatedly expressed my fondness for women's derrieres, Tawny, obviously paying close attention, had decided to send me a photo of hers. No, no car or favorite painting. It was indeed Tawny's round, lovely butt. The photo was a medium shot of her bent over what appeared to be the back of a sofa, her glorious nether cheeks - unashamedly naked - proudly displayed in the direction of my admiring eyes. And that was pretty much all I could see, except for the backs of her thighs from her knees up to that fine bottom. And between those thighs, just a hint of the promise hidden there. Tawny's oh so desirable ass - and all of its surrounding succulent views - suddenly and unexpectedly mine to view. Teasing me. Enticing me. I have to admit, my penis rose up as if to take a peek for itself, straining against my jeans for a look. Below that rather stimulating photo, Tawny had decided to titillate me further. Knowing the photo would arouse my ardor, and knowing my tendency to be somewhat submissive sexually, she capped off her unexpected gift with the words, "Kiss my ass, white boy!" I could almost hear her chuckling wickedly. As much as that photo did for my libido, my one regret was that I couldn't see her face in it. Facial expressions can tell us so much about people. Still, I stared at that oh so kissable ass for quite a long time that night. I really don't even remember my reply to her. Something garbled and incomprehensible, no doubt. I just remember her subsequent response was quite gleeful and she kept reminding me how much my lips would enjoy giving her ass "proper respect." Ah, the lovely pictures THAT short phrase etched into my brain! A few days later, a second email arrived with the same subject - "photo." This time, I shivered with anticipation as I opened it. And I was not disappointed. Tawny once again drove a stake into my heart, striking me deeply where I live. But when I opened the photo file this time I instinctively backed away from the computer screen, such was the extreme close-up nature of the picture. There, filling about two thirds of my screen, were the soft, sweet soles of Tawny's mischievous feet. Toes splayed apart and her soles literally THRUST at the camera, it appeared as if those lovely feet would break through my screen and wiggle about on my keyboard! They seemed to giggle at me and scream "Play with us!" I'd never seen a black woman's feet displayed this way before, despite being a fan of women's feet for over thirty years. The contrast between the darker flesh along the sides of her feet and the lighter skin of her soles, gave those soles a soft, creamy appearance, so much so that one might want to snuggle up to them and sleep against their softness, or lick them to see if they melted in the mouth like cotton candy. Encircling two of the toes - one on each foot - were shiny gold toe rings. In the blurry distance, Tawny's face - at least part of it - was hazily visible. Only from her chin to the very tip of her nose could be seen. Everything above was cut off. But that fuzzy smile was indeed wickedly lecherous. Bright red lips and perfect white teeth, conspiring together to create a lewdly evil grin. That grin made me harden easily as much as the in-my-face feet did. And once again Tawny dug at my soul with her short and to the point words. I could again hear her suggestive laughter when I read, "Worship at my feet, boy, now and forever." I masturbated twice that night. And again, my reply to her was probably just so much babbling. Her following email was again filled with pleasure at all the compliments I'd paid her feet, my hormones leading me to tell her I'd be honored to worship her feet day and night, any way she'd let me... and her glorious, bossy buttocks, too! Those promises she very much enjoyed hearing. She filed them away in her sly, cunning brain for future reference. But, the piece de resistance was her third and - sadly - final photo email. If I had any doubts about meeting with her, that last pictorial tweak of my gonads alone put all of them to rest. Again her subject was simply "photo," and this time I even went as far as unzipping my pants before I opened it. The other two encounters with Tawny's photo emails had been excruciatingly frustrating when my trapped penis strained inside my pants and caused eye-popping pain in my nether region. I didn't want a repeat of that, so I let my already throbbing willy roam free. I even looked down at it before opening the picture, telling the throbbing head, "Prepare yourself. This is probably gonna rock your world!" That assumption proved correct. This newest photo nearly killed me. I never in a million years would've expected to see what she'd sent. A close-up of her feet was one thing. And her unabashed revealing of her succulent ass another, but this final testicle tease had me wiping drool from my lips. My cock rose up over my keyboard and did its own share of drooling. I actually leaned forward for a second, as if to put my tongue on the computer screen, hoping for a taste of what filled it. Now, I've seen my share of pussy. I've diddled it, humped it, put foreign objects into it (don't ask), and I've lapped it 'til my tongue seized up. But this... THIS was a pussy! I was amazed at the clarity and detail of the photo. Tawny's legs were spread wide, with her magnificent sex FILLING the center of my screen. Almost the entire available area was filled with her shiny, wet slit and the curly hairs surrounding and protecting it. It was beyond incredible... far surpassing awesome! The darker, outer lips seemed chocolaty-sweet, moist and succulent, teasingly hiding their treasure. But the impish Tawny wasn't satisfied with keeping her most alluring feature a total secret. No, instead she used two fingers of each hand to open herself up to my grateful eyes. Not to the point where she revealed ALL, but just enough to allow me to view those soft, pink, inner petals, dripping with dew. My tongue actually began squirming around in my mouth at the sight of it, and my penis ached to explore it. If I could've eaten my computer screen, I would've probably done so, but my mouth couldn't break through. All I got for my efforts was static on the tip of my tongue. And yet again, Tawny knew my weaknesses, my desires. Having shown me her dewy delicacy, and knowing my tendency to be orally amorous of same, she once more wrote a caption that had my rod screaming for release. Beneath that drool-inducing photo she wrote, "Good boys who do as they're told get to eat all the chocolate they want." I didn't have time to masturbate. I ejaculated before I could even run to my bedroom. Needless to say, my email to her this time was even more incoherent. Every time I tried to write something intelligent, I'd get horny and it came out something like, "Yes, me worship. Me worship pretty feet and pretty ass. Me like eat chocolate for dessert. Please, please, please! Huh, can I, huh?" Me, with an I.Q. somewhere near 125, reduced to babbling like a drugged five year old. And THAT was when Tawny knew she had me. From that blithering moment on, Tawny slowly began to take complete charge. In each email, she'd make me tell her EXACTLY how I could worship her. I'd be only too happy to comply, feeling a surge of pleasure just from telling her in detail what duties I could perform for her. She, in turn, would get turned on from reading those details and "correcting" me, making sure that everything I promised was what SHE would enjoy. She was, after all, the one who was being catered to, pampered and "pleasured." To her way of thinking, if I was going to be her sexual servant, I should do things RIGHT... and "right" meant HER way. Actually, I had no problem with any of it. All her ideas were AT LEAST as much fun as mine. So, I gladly agreed to anything she wanted - which she again stored in her calculating brain. That was when she told me to call her "Princess Tawny" from then on... and I did, and have since. It was also at this point that she TOLD me we were going to meet in person. Luckily, she lived only about two hours away. And since she realized that our first meeting would be the solidifying factor in our future together - and things still might not work out - she agreed to meet me half way for that first meeting only. If things did work out for us, then from that point on, I would always go to her - period. "After all," she said in her last email before we met, "my slaves come to me." That statement stung my male ego a tiny bit, but it made my cock throb so much that my ego didn't care in the slightest! We agreed to meet in a public place. She found a restaurant online that seemed about midway between the two of us, got directions from MapQuest, and sent me a copy of them. A date and time that was doable for both of us was agreed upon, and that was that. The date was set. She warned me that when we met in person she did indeed want me to still address her as "Princess Tawny." Normally, she said, she'd let me just call her Tawny at our first meeting, but she felt as though we'd gotten to know each other so well online that she could bypass that phasing in period and have me start calling her Princess right from the get-go. Besides, she'd seen me write it so many times in email and IM, that she was DYING to hear me actually speak the words! Though it might be a little embarrassing to call her Princess in public, I agreed. I wasn't about to go rocking the boat at this early stage in the proceedings. Little did I realize, that that tiny concession on my part was phase one of Tawny's takeover plan. In our last IM before we met, she noted that she wasn't going to begin training me right there in the restaurant (other than insisting upon being called Princess Tawny), but she did want to discuss with me VERBALLY everything we'd discussed online. She said that lots of men CLAIM to be submissive, but when it comes to actually PROVING it, they can't bring themselves to cast off their male egos and do so. In effect, some men TALK good worship online, but can't allow themselves to perform it in reality. She wanted our first meeting to be a "feeling out:" process, where she heard directly from my mouth all the things I was willing to do for her. She could then tell from my expressions and enthusiasm (or lack thereof) if I was really good "servant" material. She didn't have to sell me. I had printed out her photos and masturbated to them on so many occasions that I was chomping at the bit for the real thing. She had lured me in with those provocative photos, wrapped her fingers around my scrotum and squeezed it tight, keeping it in her sole possession. My captive penis ached for her already. Her plan was working to perfection. And so I could only wait for the big day. The minutes ticked by so, so slowly. And for each minute that ticked by so agonizingly slowly, I could only wonder... what had I gotten myself into? I smiled - and shivered - at the possibilities. When the fateful day came, I fidgeted like a schoolboy. Me, a jeans and t-shirt kinda guy who didn't think twice about what I wore, suddenly found myself trying on several different pairs of slacks and several shirts to find just the right look. Tawny preferred her men a bit more classy than jeans and tees, so, after an hour of playing mix-n-match, I finally decided on a simple pastel blue shirt and dark pants. I'm no looker by any means, so I figured I'd just do the best I could with what I had. So, my mind reeling and my forehead a veritable dew factory, I got into my car and headed toward my destiny. I found the place Tawny had picked - called The Beer 'n' Steer steakhouse - easily enough, and since I was about fifteen minutes early I waited nervously in my car, dabbing the dribbling dew from my eyebrows. Finally, remembering that Tawny had mentioned that she valued punctuality, and that she also stated that she herself was usually early for appointments - whereupon I had quipped that she might want to check her genetics for an extra Y chromosome - I screwed together my confidence and headed for the restaurant. I remember thinking I was probably going to need quite a few of those promised beers. Entering the establishment, I gave the perky "seating associate" the name Tawny said she gave when she made the reservation. I said, "Uh... hi. Tawny, party of two." The bright eyed girl replied, "Oh, yes, your lady friend is waiting for you inside. Follow me, please." I instantly shuddered from head to toe. Even my EAR CANALS started sweating! I was finally going to meet the woman I'd come to know as Princess Tawny. The woman who's online photos nearly broke my penis all by themselves, forcing me on several occasions to self-gratify and subsequently desperately seek fluid replenishment. The woman whose most intimate parts - at Tawny's specific instructions - I'd kissed many times, even if only on Xerox paper! The woman who had made no bones about it that she wanted me as her complete, adoring, obedient, unquestioning body slave. She was just a room away. That fact alone caused my body to become a playing ground for a host of chills, shudders and nervous twitches. I was actually going to meet her - in the flesh. I followed "perky" through a dimly lit room to the farthest wall from the door. She led me to a corner booth. It was still early, and the usual dinner crowd hadn't wandered in yet. As we approached that corner booth, I could see the form of a woman, her back to me, but only from the top of her head to just below her shoulder blades. She sat straight and dignified, like royalty. Hmmm... how appropriate. When the young girl reached the table, she pointed to the empty seat and said, "Here you go. Enjoy your meal," and walked away swiftly. I stood beside the table and looked down at my Princess. And royalty she was. I could feel myself smiling as she in turn smiled up at me. Her pretty green eyes sparkled. Her lush, red, smiling lips opened just enough to show off those pearly white teeth I'd seen shining so brightly on my computer screen. Her short, sassy hair style seemed to fit her perfectly, as did the low-cut, nearly skin tight - from shoulders to hips, after which it hung loosely from that point down - floral print dress, made of such gossamer material that I thought - hoped? - it might just disintegrate and float away into thin air as so many silky atoms. She was obviously a full-figured woman, but her curves were unmistakable - and stunning. She wore several gold rings on both hands, which brought an instantaneous flash of memory of her shiny toe rings. Her painted fingernails - clear-lacquered and sporting lovely white French tips - likewise brought to mind her toes, which I'd only seen in the photo from their soft bottoms. I wondered if they were painted the same color as those glistening fingers. I was willing to bet they were. And it was only then that I realized that, foot enthusiast that I am, I hadn't even peeked under the table to look at her feet. A pang of regret stabbed into my chest. Still, I didn't want to be obvious by leaning back now to leer at her feet under the table. How gauche. My Brown Sugar Domme Her skin tone was a medium to dark brown. It had seemed darker in the photos she'd sent, but I didn't care either way. Her flesh seemed so soft and smooth that I just wanted to reach out and touch it. It had a delicious glow to it, which even penetrated the floral pattern of her dress. Just looking at her, into those disarming green eyes, at that radiant skin, and knowing her inner needs and desires, I wanted so dearly to see her naked, to run my hands and lips over every inch of every part of her. She made no move to get up, but simply offered her well-manicured hand to me, beaming as she said, "So, this is my darling Matthew, is it? Very nice to meet you." Her smile - and what lay behind it - melted my soul. Her greeting served to rouse me from my erotic musings, and I felt a quick stab of shame. But, then I saw a look in Tawny's eyes. She'd read my mind accurately, and was grinning most lasciviously at me. I quickly composed myself to the best of my ability, letting the twinge of shame fade completely. Then, remembering how Tawny liked her men well-mannered and romantic, I lifted her hand, bent over slightly at the waist, and kissed the tips of her glossy fingers. "Lovely to finally meet you, too," I said,smiling my most beguiling smile, then lowered my voice to add, "Princess Tawny." I could feel the rush of warmth to my face and knew instantly that I must be blushing. Tawny smiled, knowing I must be embarrassed to say the word "princess" in public. She said nothing, but her knowing smile told all. She even chuckled a tiny bit as she said, "Please, join me, Matthew." Then, still smiling, she added, "Dine with your Princess." Unlike myself, she made no effort to lower the volume of her speech when she spoke the very word that I myself had to speak in an embarrassed whisper. I sat across from her, still shaking a bit, my legs feeling rubbery. She seemed to enjoy my discomfiture, my fidgeting and initial clumsiness. But, at the same time, her eyes were sizing me up, cataloguing everything about me that they could gather in. Before she spoke again, I could swear she was actually looking at me as if I were a juicy slab of beef. She licked those red, full lips. I could see behind her eyes to the wicked machinations of her calculating brain. Still making no attempt to lower her voice, she next said, "I've been looking forward to this for a long time, Matthew. Our chats and your emails have gotten me so hot over the last few months that I told myself when we met I'd have to fight the urge to eat you all up." She grinned her by now patented wicked grin and leaned forward, her elbows on the table and her head resting in the palms of her hands. She was looking at me that way again, sucking her lower lip, nodding as if she had confirmed something to herself. From second to second she seemed more and more like a circling shark, and I had become dinner. "Well," I said, "I've really been anxious to meet you, too..." I looked around the room quickly, to see if anyone was near as I finished my sentence, "... Princess." Tawny smiled, and I could see her actually squirming in her seat, not with nervousness, but rather she appeared to be getting more excited by the minute. She sighed deeply and stated quite boldly, "Well, I was hoping my little email presents might lure you into my nylon web, my sweet. It seems they worked. I know you liked them, Matthew, but I'd like to hear from your own lips exactly what you thought of them. Tell me, what did you think of when you opened each one? Give me juicy details." I had no idea what to say. In fact, I nearly swallowed my tongue. It had been hard enough to try to convey my thoughts to her in writing, anonymously, without her seeing my facial expressions as I did so, let alone trying to speak them aloud here in a public place with her hungry eyes watching my every fidgeting movement . All I could manage was myself appearing as some idiotic stammering clown, sounding not unlike the cute but hopeless Elmer Fudd. "Come now, Matthew," she said, sliding her hand over mine on the table, "surely you can tell your princess how much you enjoyed her photos. No one will hear. It's early for dinner, and there's hardly anyone here. So, tell me, did you enjoy the photos? What did you think of my ass? Did my feet turn you on? And what about my pussy - did it look as tasty as you dreamed it would?" She said all of this as if she'd been discussing the weather. But the clearly excited look in her eyes and the sensual, almost suggestive sucking she did on her index finger, gave me the clear message that she was getting aroused waiting for my replies. Luckily - or perhaps unluckily - a waitress came by before I could answer. I let out a deep sigh of relief, feeling I'd gotten a brief reprieve. In less than a minute, I was to find out that this was simply not so. "Sorry I didn't get here sooner," the waitress said, "I didn't realize both of you had arrived. I thought you were still waiting for your other party, ma'am." "That's quite all right," Tawny answered, diverting her gaze from me to properly address our server. "No harm done," she added. "Great, then here are your menus. Would you like something from the bar to start off?" "Yes, actually, I would," Tawny answered. "I'd like a white Zinfandel, please." When the waitress nodded and then looked at me, I said, "I'll have a Killian's, if you've got it on tap." "Yes, we do," she replied, "and I'll be right back with those, and to take your orders." Just as the waitress scribbled on her pad and turned away, I felt something on my knees. I immediately looked down, and proceeded to sweat. Each knee had become the resting place of one of Tawny's bare feet. The answer to my earlier question about matching nail polish was answered; her toes were indeed adorned with the same sexy white tips as her fingernails. I smiled as I saw the darker skin of her insteps for the first time... and sighed, too. Even her feet radiated that delectable, healthy glow. "Oh," Tawny cooed, the sarcasm clear even after only the first word, "I hope my little foot boy doesn't mind his Princess resting her feet on him for a while?" She knew damn well I wasn't going to ruin her fun, but nonetheless the look in her eyes said, "I dare you to say you do mind... I DARE you!" I was NOT about to fall into THAT trap. I swallowed hard. I knew Tawny loved expressing her dominant side, but I hadn't expected it to happen this quickly. I thought we'd talk for a few hours before she even THOUGHT about setting her bossy side free. Apparently, such was not to be the case. In just the few moments since we'd met, she felt comfortable enough with me to be... herself. Before I spoke, I thought about my response. I didn't want to sink immediately into a submissive mode, yet I didn't want to ruin her mood, either, so I came up with this to say, "Of course not, Princess. Your comfort is ALWAYS my ONLY concern. Please make yourself as comfortable as you wish." Her face beamed! Her eyes sparkled. Her teeth shone through a wide smile, and she sighed deeply. Then she sat back, looking so pleased and satisfied that I knew I'd scored a big hit. But, I found out then and there that Tawny would always be one step ahead of me. "Really?" she asked, "as comfortable as I wish? My, that sounds so inviting. I don't mind if I do." As I wondered what that deliciously evil brain was concocting, Tawny licked her lower lip, deep in thought, then came to a decision, her grin nearly cleaving her face in two. "Lie down on the seat then, Matthew. I'll put my feet on your head." She spoke those words with absolutely no volume or pitch change in her voice. It was simply a direct order from her to me. My wide, disbelieving eyes brought a chuckle from Tawny's lush lips. But it was my stammering reply that most amused her. "But... I can't... not here... they'd... surely we'd be..." She laughed out loud, not even trying to hide her humor. "But, did you or did you not," she smirked, "just tell me I could get as comfortable as I wished? I think my feet on your head would be very comfortable. You're the one who made the offer. Now, lie down so I can put my tired feet on your head." Still my eyes showed disbelief. My mouth continued to hang open. The muscle to close it wouldn't work. I was mortified. "Oh, Matthew, don't worry. If someone comes by you can real quick cover up my feet with your napkin. They'll never see my comfy feet playing with your cute little slaveboy face. Go on, now, lie down. My feet want the comfort you promised." My stammering started anew. "But.... we'll be... Jesus... arrested!" "Nonsense. The waitress'll get a chuckle if she happens to see my feet playing with your earlobe, but that's all. If it gets to be a problem, I'll just let you sit up. She'll have a little chuckle and a story to tell her co-workers, that's all. No one ever got arrested for using someone's face to comfort their feet. Now, lie down... my feet are tired!" My entire body was charged with nervous energy. I was torn between the embarrassment of what Tawny wanted from me, and my inexplicable need to please her. My mouth opened and closed, but nothing came out. Then, I thought that maybe if I laid down on the seat and Tawny put her feet on me, maybe that would be enough. Maybe just proving she was boss would be enough for her. Maybe she'd just rest her feet for a few seconds and then let me up. But, what most shocked me was that I was actually CONSIDERING lying down so Tawny's feet could rest on my head... in a pubic place, no less! That was quite a revelation about myself. It made me shudder. Still, I looked around nervously, and so help me, I started to lie down! Tawny burst into raucous laughter. She laughed so hard that tears streamed from her eyes. Her whole body enjoyed the humor, quaking as she laughed hysterically. I stopped my downward motion to watch her. I was a little confused at that particular moment. "Oh, how lovely, Matthew. You were actually going to let me do it, weren't you? Oh, that's precious. And I really do appreciate your willingness to be my foot rest right here in an open restaurant. That's just so loyal of you, so giving. But you can relax. I was just kidding. I only wanted to see what you would do. And now that I know you'd allow me to do that to you, even in public, I'm just going to keep that information handy for the future. You never know when it might come in handy. But, for now, you're off the hook. I can rest my feet on your head any time I like, so there's no need for me to do it right this minute. I can wait until we're alone. Besides, how would we talk? I don't think your speech would be very clear having to go through my feet to reach my ears, now would it? No," she became pensive now, "I think resting my feet on your head would be something more appropriate for when I'm watching TV or reading a book or talking to friends on the phone. So, relax, Matthew, it was just a joke. Or maybe a test. Either way, right now, you're off the hook... but that won't always be the case. So don't take my current generosity for granted." Her laughter was so infectious, and I was so relieved at escaping an ignoble fate, that I almost laughed right along with her. But I was still too mortified by what had just transpired - and shocked by my willingness to submit to what she'd suggested - to bring myself to laugh. I felt a shudder of mingled excitement and dread. If I was willing to submit to something like THAT, what other base humiliations might I be willing to set aside my pride to accept? It was a sobering thought. "Well, then," Tawny's voice intruded upon my self-examination, " you'll have to spread your legs for me instead." I looked at her, dumbly, like a deer caught in headlights. "Excuse me?" I said, not even capable of expounding on that, as dumb as it sounded. "Spread your legs," she repeated. "You said I can make myself as comfortable as I wish, and since I can't have your head under my feet, I've decided you owe me something just as much fun... so spread your legs and let me get more comfortable that way." She seemed to tense up, kinetically charged, waiting for my response. She was testing me again. Or was she? The head thing may have been a joke, but I seriously doubted that this was. So, with much quicker compliance than I had with her "head request", I still nonetheless slowly spread my legs, by then pretty sure I knew what was coming. And, indeed, I was correct. Tawny slid forward on her seat, removed her feet from atop my knees, and pushed them forward, grinning as she planted both soles squarely in my crotch. She left them there, unmoving, for only a second, just long enough to assess my response. I was biting my lower lip, which seemed to please her. Her grin widened. Time to play. She began kneading her soles into my crotch, almost laughing aloud as she said, "Just getting comfortable. Thank you so much for your generosity." Grinning wickedly yet again, she probed between my legs until her feet had found my engorged penis. She played with it with her feet, mercilessly, squeezing it between her toes, squashing it beneath her soles, flicking the head with the tips of her two big toes, all around toying with it... and all the while grinning widely and boring her eyes into mine, waiting to see if I'd fend off her footsie attack or allow her to do as she pleased. Suddenly, amidst the swirling confusion in my brain, I saw the waitress approaching with our drinks. With what little coherent thought I could muster, I managed to grab my napkin, open it with dazzling speed, and drop it down onto my lap, covering the cock-teasing feet. But the napkin danced in my lap, as those cavorting feet continued to play between my legs, not letting up for an instant, even though Tawny knew full well that the waitress was about to arrive. I had to put my hands down over those mischievous feet to mask their playfulness as much as possible. Tawny giggled now, and only slowed her foot-play the tiniest bit. "Your drinks," the waitress said, seeming not to notice the bouncing napkin and my hand desperately trying to make Tawny's feet behave. "Now, what can I get you for dinner?" I haven't a clue what Tawny ordered. Not only was I busy trying to hide the romp which seemed to be escalating in my crotch, but I was also trying NOT to have an orgasm in my shorts. This left little room in my cerebrum for noticing the rest of the world around me. And when I ordered my own meal, I think the waitress must've thought I was mentally challenged, as she looked at me with a queer, almost sympathetic smile. She read back my order to me very slowly, as if speaking with a brain-damaged child. Tawny was greatly amused by this. When the waitress had finally left, Tawny removed her feet from my crotch and plopped them on my thighs. With what was becoming her usual sarcastic whimsy, she said, "Well, Matthew, thank you. That was the most fun my feet have had in a long, long time. Somewhat comfortable, too, though I can think of much better ways to get my feet comfortable." I was about to reply to that, but then I realized no reply was necessary. Tawny had every intention of continuing whether I responded or not. Lifting her glass of wine, she held it out to me, indicating we should clink our glasses together to commemorate the moment, saying, "Here's to us getting along beautifully, and having a fantastic relationship together." I held out my glass, and she enthusiastically clinked them together. "I think we're going to click just beautifully, don't you, Matthew? We seem just perfect for each other, don't we? I say we give this thing a try. I'll be your Princess Tawny, and you can be my obedient little slave boy. Believe me, you WON'T regret it. What do you say? Should we give it a try?" From the twinkle in her eyes and the enthusiastic glow coming from her jubilant face, I could see she was sincere... and that she was already having a helluva time. She WAS beautiful, I had to admit. Everything about her made me want to kiss and lick every part of her, and I was perfectly willing to do it any way she liked. She was a thousand times MORE alluring in person than she was online, and that was saying something! So, naturally, I didn't have to debate with myself for very long when I replied, this time not whispering at all when I properly addressed her, "Yes, Princess Tawny, I would like that very much." My still throbbing penis dribbled its agreement. Again she beamed. She was barely able to sit still. I've never known a woman to be so completely overcome by the thought of having her own personal body servant. I've never seen a woman who could be so dominant and yet so level-headed, sweet and charming all at the same time. She seemed to me to be the complete package, and she seemed impressed enough by me to give me the HONOR of being her body servant. And at that exact moment, my life changed. I vowed right then and there to do my best to please my Princess Tawny in any way I possibly could. I would give her the complete, total worship she so deeply craved. Where it would lead us we would have to wait and see. From that point things took a more "normal" turn for a bit. After receiving our meals, we took some time getting to know each other from a non-sexual aspect for a change. But it was obvious throughout this more mundane conversation that there was a barely controlled sexual appetite just below the surface. Many of our comments were laced with sweet innuendo. Suggestive comments abounded, even when we spoke about harmless, everyday topics. The sexual tension was always there, barely hidden, barely controlled, waiting to leap to the forefront and control our every action from that moment forward. We knew our control couldn't hold out for long. Almost at the end of our meal, and right in the middle of a comparison of favorite movies, Tawny couldn't fight the power any longer. She stopped me in mid-sentence, waving her finger downward, pointing to what appeared to be a point directly between my legs... but I had misjudged the intent. Instead of being a gesture to a specific spot, it was a generalized gesture. She was waggling her finger down in the general direction of my lap, where her bare feet still basked in their shoeless freedom. "Rub my feet," she said bluntly. "You seem to be done eating, so give my feet a nice massage while I finish up my meal." I was stunned not so much by the request itself, but by the suddenness of it. I was indeed finished with my meal, but I had not yet finished my recently refreshed beer. I looked over at the still frothy glass, then down at her impatient feet, then back at the beer. "Oh, now, you can take sips every so often between toe rubs, but I really want my servant to give my feet a nice, soothing rub... now." She looked at me as if this were a perfectly reasonable request. Her feet wiggled eagerly on my lap. Laughing softly, she added, "Now, you aren't going to refuse your Princess, are you... slave?" Giving one last, wistful look at the frothy mug of brew, I sighed, then looked down at Tawny's feet, chomping at the bit for their pampering to begin. Smiling, eager to please her, and equally eager to fondle those sexy feet, I grabbed one foot in my hands and began kneading away its aches and pains. Tawny sighed, and squirmed in her chair with great pleasure. "Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...," she sighed, "that's just wonderful. I knew I picked the right slave boy. Don't stop rubbing 'til I tell you to. That's just heaven. And if the waitress comes by, you just keep on rubbing. Who cares what anyone else thinks? You worship your Princess, and that's all that matters. You should never be embarrassed when all you're doing is making me feel good." Then, her eyes fluttered shut and her mouth dropped open a tiny bit, sighs coming more frequently than words. My Brown Sugar Domme Needless to say, the devouring of her meal slowed down considerably. She took small forkfuls of food only occasionally, sitting back and nearly drooling as I rubbed every inch of both her feet. Every now and then she'd mumble "Oh, that's wonderful," or "God, that's incredible," or whatever, the look on her face the look of pampered royalty. But, as time wore on, she decided I needed a little guidance in exactly how she wanted her feet massaged, giving me instructions like, "Rub the soles really hard," or "Oh, Matthew, rub each toe one by one," or "Bend my toes back and forth and work your fingers between them." For my part, I just did as I was told. I knew that having me obey her was even more important than the actual foot rub itself. And as early evening lapsed into mid-evening, Tawny's furnace was becoming more and more stoked. I could see it in her face, even though she appeared to be relaxed and enjoying her foot pampering. Her rising sexual tide was becoming more and more obvious in her face and in her body language. That, in turn, fueled my own fire. I had just removed the toe ring from the second toe of her right foot so I could properly massage that naked toe, when Tawny, without opening her eyes, but visibly gnawing on her lower lip, whispered, "My faithful servant, you never answered my questions earlier." I had no idea of what she spoke. I therefore didn't respond. "When you first joined me tonight, I asked you to describe my email photos to you. I wanted you to give me details on how they made you feel. Your emails back to me in response were rather... incoherent, to say the least. So, tell me, in your own beautiful, SPOKEN words, what you thought of them. What did they do for you? Did they turn you on? Did you have to masturbate after you saw them? Did you have an orgasm right there at your computer? Did my pictures turn you on THAT much?" She sat quietly for about a minute as I digested all of that. I searched my mind and memories for the answers she wanted. While I did so, my hands became neglectful on her feet. "No," she said, "don't stop rubbing my feet. Keep rubbing them while you answer me. And when you tell me how much my pictures turned you on, I want you to bend down and kiss my toes while you describe it all to me. Yes, rub and kiss my feet - worship them, even! - while you tell me how much you liked my ass and how hard you got from looking at my sexy feet pointed right at your face. Tell me how you masturbated afterward, dreaming of kissing or licking either of them. But, most of all, tell me how much my last photo made you want to get down on your knees and worship my pussy. Tell me how badly you wanted to lick and lick and lick and lick it. Oh, baby, tell me all of it. Don't hold anything back!" At that point, my cock had hardened to such a state that I could've hammered a railroad spike into concrete with it. I didn't give a rat's rancid ass WHO was around to hear me... I was going to tell this sexy brown Princess exactly what she wanted to hear. I knew in my heart and soul that this was a defining moment, a crossroads in our relationship. The next move on my part would make or break our future together as submissive and Dominant. And I had no intention of fucking that up! No way! So, I took a deep breath. I didn't look around to see if anyone was watching, and I lifted both her feet off my lap and kissed all ten of her toes, openly and brazenly, and with quite a bit of passion. I said, "Yes, Princess Tawny, I'll tell you everything you want to know. Ever since I first saw those pictures of your gorgeous ass, your royal feet and your heart-stopping pussy, I have truly been their - and your - slave. And I have WANTED to tell you this so much... and now I AM telling you. I am not only PROUD to be your slave, but I THANK you for allowing me to serve you. I just needed to say that before I begin." I was literally shuddering with the sincerity of what I'd just spoken aloud. My shaking hands were barely able to hold her French-tipped toes up to my breathless lips. Tawny quivered noticeably when I again passionately kissed her feet, nuzzling my face into the soft pads of her toes, sighing hot breath onto her soles, my lips warming them equally as much. She gasped out a staggered sigh and licked her lips as I began to tell her in detail exactly how her photos had affected me over the last several weeks... exactly how they had captured my heart and soul. Exactly how - precisely according to her plan - those sizzling online visions had begun in me the irreversible enslavement process. It was numbingly apparent that we were both losing control, rapidly and completely. I had the urge to lap Tawny's creamy feet until they wrinkled like prunes, but that wouldn't be proper worship... which they - and she - most certainly deserved. I fought to control myself. Though it was like trying to stop the mad careening of a runaway train, I was determined to do as Tawny had asked of me. Besides, I WANTED to tell her about those online pics, their mesmerizing hold on my psyche, the power they had over me. I NEEDED to tell her how they had instantly enslaved me long before we'd actually met. But, still, I didn't want us to lose COMPLETE control. So I took several deep breaths, and chose my words carefully, though my heart wanted me to scream out my innermost fantasies and desires. I reluctantly pulled my lips away from those royal feet, bathing them in one last warming sigh as my lips retreated. I could see the heaving in Tawny's ample bosom lessen, her respiration rate slowly returning to normal. She swallowed hard, and her open mouth shut, those glistening lips coming together as she began breathing through her nose again. Though I sensed a mild disappointment in her at no longer having her feet passionately adored, I was pleased to see a smile cross those enticing lips. She seemed to sense that I was going to give her a very erotic earful. I proceeded slowly, my voice calm and even, surprising me with its steadiness. "My Princess," I began, " I was astonished when I received your first picture. I was totally mesmerized by your lovely... behind..." "Please," she interrupted, " I prefer the word 'ass.' It's so much more erotic... so deliciously naughty." "Uh, I very much agree," I said, "and your ass is as naughty as they come." Her smile widened. "Continue," she said, leaning back in the booth, closing her eyes so she could close out the rest of the world to concentrate on my spoken confessions. "Yes, Princess," I said humbly, hoping for a few brownie points. "I couldn't believe how lucky I was to actually get to see your incredible ass. As soon as I saw it, I got an erection." "And what went through your mind when you saw it? What did you FEEL?" My penis began to twitch, to lengthen and harden all over again. "Well," I said, just a bit sheepishly, "what I felt was... that I wanted to... well... touch it. Actually, more like... well... get right up to it and nuzzle my face in it. It's just such an unbelievably SUCCULENT ass!" "Mmmmm... you mean you wanted to rub your face all over my ass?" "Yes," I admitted, "and kiss it, mash my lips all over it." "Lovely," she sighed, "and how would you feel about actually MASSAGING my ass with your lips?" "Massaging?" My mind was envisioning how this might be done, and it brought a smile to my face. "Yes," she stated matter-of-factly, "I'd simply adore having a man massage my entire ass with his lips, slowly and thoroughly, taking maybe an hour or so to massage it completely, every inch," She laughed and emphasized, "both inside and out. As a matter of fact, I won't even consider a relationship with a man - much less a slave boy - if he's unwilling to pleasure me this way." The mere thought of rubbing my lips all over the ass I'd seen in that photo had my cock throbbing like jungle drums. The words caught in my throat with controlled excitement as I replied, "If that would please you, Princess Tawny, I'd consider it a privilege and honor to massage your beautiful ass with my lips... for as long as you needed me to." "Ohhhhh, my... how wonderful," she sighed. "Now, we come to an important question. Do you truly understand proper ass WORSHIP? Meaning, do you understand what it means to show proper RESPECT for my ass? Worship and respect go hand in hand. What I meant when I typed 'Kiss my ass, white boy!' under the photo? We DID discuss it in IM, but I want to make sure you really get where I'm coming from." My penis was trying to tear its way out of my pants. "I think I do, Princess. You once said that proper worship of your ass involved..." I wasn't sure how to say it. Tawny had no qualms about putting things bluntly. "Let me spell it out," she said, opening her eyes, watching me with depraved interest, "I believe that PROPER worship of my ass involves you showing deep, unflinching, unquestioning respect for it, specifically with your adoring lips. And I do mean DEEP." She waited to see if the light went on over my head. When I blushed, she knew I had gotten her drift. But she wanted verbal affirmation from me. She wanted nothing to be left ambiguous. So she leaned forward, the dreaminess in her eyes of a few moments ago having been instantly replaced by a determined gaze. "What I'm saying Matthew, is that I expect COMPLETE and TOTAL worship of my ass, even its deepest recesses. I expect you not only to kiss my sexy cheeks, but also between them. Anything less wouldn't be total adoration. At least that's the way I see it. And I will not settle for less than TOTAL adoration... EVER! So, if you have a problem with that, tell me now and we can save ourselves some time. You can look for someone less demanding, and I can look for someone more... respectful. Now, do you have a problem with what I've just described to you?" Her eyes were boring into me with such complete conviction that I could FEEL them. Now, I've done some kinky things in my time, and even FANTASIZED about totally worshipping a woman's ass in the way that Tawny described, but I've never done it in reality, and I've often wondered if I'd actually be willing, or ABLE to. Some fantasies tend to remain just that - fantasies. So, naturally, I hesitated with my reply. "Get back to rubbing my feet," I heard through the pounding in my ears. The command helped me focus, though I'd momentarily misplaced reality. "Excuse me?" I said weakly, blinking my eyes. "You've stopped rubbing my feet," she said, a cruel smile curling her lips, "I didn't give you permission to stop." "Oh, sorry, Princess. I just lost my focus for a minute. I promise it won't happen again." "See that it doesn't, or my pretty feet might end up in someone else's lap. Now, I want your answer. Will I receive COMPLETE homage of my ass from you, or is this date going to be our one and only meeting?" The phrase "one and only" cut me to my core. Only minutes ago I had been passionately kissing Tawny's soft, sexy feet, professing my worship of and loyalty to her. As I looked down at those impish symbols of my slavish need to please her, I couldn't bear the thought of someone else worshipping her feet... or any other part of her. I caved with an ease that startled even myself. The words started slowly at first, but gained strength and momentum as I spoke them. "I swear, Princess, I'll worship ANY part of you EXACTLY as you see fit. YOU decide what's proper worship, and I'll comply." Slowly Tawny sat back again, a pleased look on her face. Her eyes gleamed their victory, her lips grinned widely, her chest heaved with a deep sigh of satisfaction. "All right then. You'd better be serious. I assure you, I WILL be testing you on that point. I'm not just saying I want proper worship to hear you say yes and then leave it at that. I expect PROOF from you. Besides which," she grinned even more widely, "I just adore the way lips feel when they're squeezed into my ass." She chuckled softly, then said, "Now, continue, what else did my pictures do for you?" "Well," I began absently, still reeling over Tawny's speedy transformation from smiling, pleasant dinner companion to uncompromising, arrogant Domme, "your second photo..." "My perfect, desirable feet..." Tawny interrupted, smiling a little more softly now. "Yes," I agreed, looking down at my lap, "your sweet, beautiful feet. That second photo made me rock hard also. So soft, so sexy, so... so... so deserving of love and worship. God, how I wanted to taste them! Your feet were so..." I was still gazing down at my Princess's feet with unmasked affection when she thumped her heels up and down on my thighs a couple of times in rapid succession. This startled me, and I wondered why she'd done this to me. I looked up at her, confused... and a tiny bit hurt. When I saw the waitress approaching, I understood Tawny's actions. Though I distinctly remembered her saying that I should rub her feet no matter what, that it didn't matter who caught us being our true selves, I didn't voice this to Tawny. I got the impression she wasn't one to appreciate being reminded that she'd contradicted herself. "Would you two lovebirds like dessert?" our tip-hopeful waitress asked, holding out two dessert menus. Before I could even extend my hand, Tawny waved off the menus, saying simply, "We'll have that," she said, pointing to a large poster on the wall. "Our Decadently Chocolate fudge and ice cream combo?" "Yes," Tawny replied, "with everything chocolate. Chocolate ice cream and hot fudge. Sounds scrumptious. And bring two spoons. We'll share it." Her grin was infectious, as the waitress joined her in the smile, though for completely differing reasons. After the springy girl left, my inquisitive eyes met Tawny's calculating ones. "You'll love it," she smirked, "You should prefer EVERYTHING chocolate from now on... including your Princesses - though I should be your only Princess from this second onward. You must know that chocolate is always sweeter, and if you don't you'll soon find out. Now, get back to rubbing my feet. Chop chop! Hop to it, foot boy." She giggled like a schoolgirl. She was constantly taking me by surprise, keeping me off balance. One minute she was just a great person to talk to, the next she was the demanding Domme, and the next she was a playful kitten. I never knew what - or who - to expect next. And that only added to the titillation. Personally, I liked all three. I gave her feet a thorough massage as we waited for our dessert. Again she closed her eyes and smiled, enjoying her foot rub. "And do go on," she said as I was just squeezing and stretching her toes, "describe in detail your love and worship for my feet when you first saw them. Did you like how I was shoving them right into your face in the photo? Did that make you hard again?" Eyes still closed, she folded her arms across her chest and listened for my answer. "Oh, yeah," I stated matter-of-factly, "of course it did. How could I not fall in love with YOUR feet? And, yes, the way you seemed to be just RAMMING your feet smack into my face, well, that was AWESOME! I mean, I know I told you that soles and toes are what most drive me wild, but I never expected to see your feet so up close and personal! That really rocked my world!" "You mean, like this?" she giggled, lifting as high as she could the foot I was not currently massaging, and thrusting her toes in the general direction of my chin. She wiggled her foot around playfully. It would have been obvious to anyone looking that she was teasing me with her foot. She didn't seem to care if I was embarrassed or not. She was too beside herself with a kind of giddy power to even CONSIDER not toying with me. And though I most certainly DID hope no one noticed, I wouldn't have stopped the show for the world. I did find myself, however, glancing about nervously, but still managed to say, "Yes, Princess Tawny, exactly like that." The flush covering my face wasn't entirely from embarrassment. Abruptly, she lowered her foot and said, "Well, now you've seen my feet in person. Are they everything you hoped they'd be, everything they appeared to be in the photo?" "Oh, yes," I sighed, "yes, indeed. Your feet are even more regal and..." I was temporarily at a loss for words, but Tawny helped me out. "Even more deserving of respect?" she offered, grinning wickedly. "Yes, Princess." "And worship?" "Yes, Princess." "Complete and total worship? Homage? Adoration and unquestioning loyalty?" "Yes, Princess, absolutely." "Good. Never forget that. As long as I have your complete worship and obedience, we'll click together famously. As soon as that disappears... so do I. That's all there is to it. Understood?" Her arms folded across her chest and a smug look on her face, I could see behind her eyes the true depth of her unyielding nature. It was her way or no way. I had no doubt of that. "Yes, Princess," I submitted, "as you wish." "Superb. Now, get those hands busy on my feet. You've slacked off a little again. We can't have that, now can we?" "No, Princess. Sorry." "That's all right. I don't expect you to focus one hundred percent of the time, especially since you're no doubt stunned and awed by my perfection and beauty." As she said this, her face adopted a pretense of utter snobbery. She smiled, fluffed her too-short-to-be-fluffed hair with one hand and all around took on the air of arrogant royalty. With that haughty air virtually emanating from her every pore, she added, "Now, rub rub rub, foot boy. Don't spare the elbow grease! After all, you can be replaced, you know." She actually laughed out loud, as I started rubbing her foot harder. If she'd been any higher on pure power, she'd have floated away from the table. "Now, get talking about how my foot photo made you insane with lust." Again she sat back, arms crossed, eyes closed, waiting for my confessions. I was beginning to understand the extent to which being dominant turned Tawny on. Every time she clicked into that mode, she literally crackled with energy. She'd squirm and her breathing would become noticeably quickened. I suspected that as she bossed me around and treated me like a doting servant, her panties must surely be getting wet. And how awesome that would be. To know that my submissiveness to her wishes could get her so juiced up and horny. Humbling or not, that would be one helluva plus for me! "Well, Princess Tawny," I said, slowly mixing together in my mind the truth and what I was sure would drive her crazy, "of course I loved seeing your beautiful, royal feet, but it was how you displayed them that got me as hard as granite. I LOVED how you just SHOVED them in my face, as if to say, 'Here are my feet, now get busy worshipping them!'." I watched her lick her lips. She squirmed. I was definitely on the right track. I continued, "I felt as if you were putting me in my place, right down there at your feet. As if I had no rights whatsoever, while you, on the other hand, had EVERY right to shove your feet into my face any time the urge strikes you. Your feet were not only super sexy, but it all felt so right, as if that was the way it should be... me at your feet, worshipping them exactly the way you wanted me to." Tawny was squirming quite a bit now, and had replaced her lip licking with lip chewing. Her sighs were audible from across the table. "And you wanted to worship my feet right then and there?" she asked, her bosom heaving. "Yes, of course I did. I thought they deserved no less." My lovely Tawny was losing control again, as was I. "So, actually, what you wanted was to crawl to my feet on your hands and knees and kiss them with reverence?" "Yes, Princess Tawny, with complete and utter servitude." Tawny's feet were wiggling madly in my lap, as if that was how she was releasing her sexual tension. She was alternately chewing on her upper and then lower lips. Her eyes had partially opened, and her glazed eyes were burning into mine, searching for the truth in my words. I watched her sigh repeatedly through those pearly teeth and ruby lips.