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***All characters in this story are 18 years of age or older***

This was one of her highest paying clients, so the Goddess prepared to give him his money’s worth. He was already waiting in the basement. He had been there for over an hour, let in and prepared by a friend of hers after the Goddess confirmed she had received payment.

Fresh from the shower, the Goddess watched herself in the mirror as she toweled off. It was no wonder why they paid her as much as they did for her services. Her wet hair was as dark as her skin was fair. Her slim body sported perfectly perky tits, a flat stomach, and toned-but-slender legs. Her ass was plump enough to be dangerous.

Men seemed to love the large tattoo that spread across the front of her right thigh, but that wasn’t their primary interest. First things first, the Goddess pulled up a stool to paint her long toenails bright red. Not so long ago she never would have dreamed of the kind of money these ten digits would bring her. She wiggled them as they air-dried. If the man downstairs could see her now he probably would have cum on the spot.

The Goddess dried and brushed her long hair. As she did it went from almost black to a lovely brown with a hint of red. It went great with the deep red lipstick she applied.

Now for her outfit. Her client wasn’t particularly interested in anything from the waist up, so she picked out a black bra and red blouse that went great with the red of her toenails and lipstick. She slipped on a lace black thong that was always a winner. To complete the ensemble she strapped on a pair of six-inch “fuck me” stilettos, the ties of which wrapped up her leg almost to her knee.

Finally, she spritzed on her most expensive perfume and inspected herself in the mirror. Yes…she was a Goddess. No one who saw her now would be able to argue with that.

She opened the door to the basement and switched on the light. A dull yellow glow shone in the room below, given off by a single bulb hanging from the ceiling. The wooden stairs creaked as she gingerly made her way down step by step, the clack of her heels echoing through the damp concrete enclosure.

She emerged into the basement to find, as expected, a man kneeling on a large, thick rug. He was naked but for the blindfold, the ball gag, and the wrist cuffs that held his arms together in front of him. He was breathing heavily. He had heard the familiar sound of her footsteps and his cock was already beginning to stiffen.

“Well, well, well…” the Goddess said in a low, elvankent escort sultry voice. “What do we have here?”

The man involuntarily moaned against the thick ball obstructing his mouth.

“If it isn’t my most perverted slave,” the Goddess continued, “Come back to win my approval yet again. Or try to, at least.”

The man groaned, the head of his cock starting to turn purple.

The Goddess made her way to a plush chair at the edge of the rug. It looked more like a throne, which was what she intended. She sat, laid her arms on the armrests, and relaxed into the soft cushions. She crossed her legs, dangling her stilettoed foot in the air in front of the bound man.

“Shall we see if you deserve my attention today?” the Goddess asked condescendingly.

The man grunted. He was trembling, barely able to handle the anticipation.

“We’ll see…” she replied doubtfully. “But first, my rule. You will do absolutely nothing until I tell you to. You will do it exactly how I tell you to do it. And the second I feel you don’t deserve my attention any longer, I will leave you here to rot like the worm you are. Do you understand, slave?”

The man grunted as he nodded vigorously.

“Good,” the Goddess approved. “Now, my first command: remove your blindfold.”

The man fumbled impatiently with the cloth wrapped around his eyes until they slid off his head onto the floor beside him. His eyes were as wide as saucers as he hungrily gazed at the Goddess’ long toes with red nails at the tips, her pale feet, and her shapely calves wrapped in stiletto ties. He started to pant and a drop of precum glittered at the tip of his cock.

“Do you like the feet of a Goddess?” she asked.

The man nodded and grunted, shifting back and forth on his knees.

“I don’t believe you,” the Goddess doubted, “Because, if you did…you’d be touching yourself.”

His look was confused. She had told him not to do anything without being told and now she was disapproving of it. But fucking with the client’s mind was half the fun.

He ran a shackled hand along his stiff cock.

“Mmm…that’s better,” the Goddess cooed. “The slave can learn.”

She let him stroke himself for a while as she wiggled her toes in front of him. He picked up the pace until, when it seemed he was just on the verge of cumming, the Goddess shouted: “STOP!”

The man froze, his hand halfway down his shaft.

“You can’t cum yet, slave. Your Goddess has more work for you.” She stroked emek escort her chin for a moment, as if in deep contemplation, then ordered, “Remove your gag.”

The man awkwardly raised his arms over his head and struggled with the straps behind his head. Eventually, after a considerable struggle, the ball fell from his mouth.

The man panted and gasped, “Thank you, Godde…”

She roughly cut him off. “Shut up! Did you tell you to speak, slave?”

He almost responded, just barely catching himself.

“If we have any more slip-ups,” she threatened, “Your time in my presence will end abruptly.”

The man gazed at her pleadingly.

“But,” she said more softly, “I am a merciful Goddess. So I’ll give you a chance to earn your forgiveness.” She paused. “Thank me, slave.”

“Thank you, Goddess.”

“Now, answer this question.” The Goddess wiggled her long toes again. “Do the feet of a Goddess deserve to be worshiped?”

“Yes, Goddess.”

“Then come kiss my feet.”

The man shuffled painfully on his knees across the rug until he knelt in front of the seated woman. He carefully took one foot in his hands and tenderly kissed the top. He showered it with soft affection from her ankle to her toes, and then after some moments lowered himself to repeat the ritual with the other one.

“Slave,” the Goddess interrupted. “Do you feel that you can properly worship the feet of a Goddess with shoes on them?”

He shook his head. “No, Goddess.”

“Then take them off,” she commanded as she uncrossed her legs and set both feet on the ground.

The man almost leaped for joy, but he restrained himself. He loosened the ties around her calf and unwound them. He repeated the same with the other. Then he returned to the first and, lifting her foot, removed the shoe and set it down reverently next to the chair. He did the same with the second. Then, like a good slave, he looked at his Goddess for instruction.

“Now, slave…worship my feet,” she demanded. “Worship them fully and without hesitation. Worship them with your lips, your tongue, your putrid saliva. Worship every inch of them like it’s the only thing that gives your miserable life purpose. Because it is, my slave. It is…”

In a flash, the man’s mouth was around her toes. He sucked ravenously as if starved. His tongue danced between them, across her soles and arches, over the tops of her feet. They became so drenched with his saliva that strings of it dripped from her heel to the floor beneath her.

The eryaman escort man grunted and growled. Even after fifteen minutes, he showed no sign of slowing down. The Goddess checked her watched and decided it was time to wrap this up.

“Cease!” she bellowed. The man stopped instantly, softly setting her feet onto the floor and sitting upright on his knees.

“You have pleased me, slave,” she declared, then added, “As much as a slave can, anyway. I have a reward for you.”

The man inhaled sharply, hoping he knew what was coming next.

“Retrieve your blindfold, but don’t put it on,” she commanded.

The man shuffled to the center of the rug, grabbed the cloth, and then returned to his position in front of the Goddess.

“Lay down on your back with your head there and your feet there,” she instructed as she pointed to her left, then to her right.

The man rushed to comply, his hips directly in front of her, his erection still raging across his pelvis.

“After you have received your reward,” the Goddess said, “You will remain in place until an attendant comes for you. Then you will leave in gratitude that you have been in the presence of a Goddess.”

The man trembled as he lay on the soft rug, overcome with awe and desire for her.

“Put on the blindfold,” she said. He did. Then, “Raise your arms over your head.” Again, he complied.

She had a bottle of oil at hand but, given how slick her feet were with his saliva, the Goddess decided she didn’t need it. She raised her leg and ran her toes along the underside of his shaft. He shivered, a moan escaping his lips. She wrapped her toes around the head of his cock and squeezed, eliciting more noise. She pressed them into his testicles, not too hard but enough to make him groan.

Enough playing around, she decided. Nestling the underside of his cock in the crease of her toes, she slid her foot back and forth. Slowly at first, she picked up the pace. She watched as his breathing sped, and listened as he groaned with less and less control. His lips trembled and she knew he was close.

The man’s testicles twitched and he sprayed cum all over his stomach and chest. He moaned like a wounded animal, his satisfaction on unrestrained display before his Goddess. She continued her ministrations even as her toes were caked with his sticky semen, ensuring his testicles were completely emptied. He was, after all, a well-paying client.

When the man’s cock began to become flaccid the Goddess removed her foot. She stood, leaving him panting in a sweaty mess on the floor. She picked up her shoes, walked up the stairs leading out of the basement, and exited. When she shut and locked the door behind her, she leaned back against it and sighed with a tired smile.

Another hard day’s work for a Goddess.

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