Page 22 of Secret Submission

Connor moved forward, feeling a little awkward, but she smiled as he moved, and that helped. He knelt at her feet, which felt more natural than he would have expected. Kneeling wasn’t something he did often, but with where she was sitting and where he ended up, she was actually now looking down on him.

His cock stirred.

Yeah. He liked this position. At her feet.

However, he didn’t think it was her feet that were doing it for him. It was just the simple act of kneeling down.

As if she could hear his thoughts, Mistress Julie reached out and ran her fingers through his hair. Connor sighed, closing his eyes and bending his head so she could touch it as much as she wanted. All the stress of the day felt like it was draining away, giving him a release of tension as a good massage would.

And all she’d done was have him kneel and touched his hair.

Nails slid down against the back of his neck and around his ear. With the way he was sitting, his legs were in front of him, bent, and he felt the heels of her shoes as she rested her feet on his thighs. He leaned forward between her legs, feeling her breasts touch the top of his head as she ran her nails down his neck and back up.

It was… peaceful. Despite his arousal. Which was something he never felt in the club. Normally, he was anxious, worried about what someone might need from him, what they might ask of him, that he might get something wrong, that he might disappoint his partner…

But Mistress Julie would tell him what she wanted from him. She would let him know if he was doing anything wrong. There were no expectations of him other than to do what she wanted, when she wanted it, and she would let him know what and when. Right now, she wanted to sit on the throne and stroke his hair with her feet resting on his thighs, and that was good enough for him. The longer they sat there, the more he relaxed.

Well, everything except his cock.

A part of him was enjoying being aroused and doing absolutely nothing with it.

He didn’t know how long they sat there before she shifted again, her fingers sliding through his hair, then gripping rather than coming out. A shiver went down his spine, and his cock jerked against the inside of his pants as she tilted his head back to look at her. Her dark, liquid eyes were like pools of calm as her gaze met his, and he felt like sighing again, but it was too difficult with his head pulled back.

“My feet hurt, Connor. I want you to wash them and give them a massage.” She smiled as she said it, so he knew she wasn’t mad that they’d taken time to just sit.

The time had let him sink into a new headspace, and he felt oddly peaceful as he smiled back at her.

“Yes, Mistress.”

Kink had always seemed to be about sex, and it wasn’t that he wasn’t aroused, but right now, he felt like it was less about the sex and more about serving her. About giving her what she wanted. Which was what he wanted. Knowing exactly what to do made him feel settled, sure of himself.

Easing the shoes off her feet, he placed them beside the basin, which he then carefully lifted up onto his lap, placing it between his thighs. The water sloshed a bit but didn’t spill over. Beside the basin was a washcloth and a small bottle of soap. Once he had the basin on his lap and had put her feet in it, he reached down to pick up the cloth and soap.

Mistress Julie sighed happily as her feet soaked, her fingers playing with his hair again. The water must have been very hot when it was placed in here, because it was still warm, and he was sure it felt good on her feet. He hoped he could make it feel even better.

Wetting the cloth, he squirted some soap onto it and rubbed the sides of the cloth together to create a lather. It smelled like lavender, and inhaling it was putting him in almost a meditative state. Picking up one of Mistress Julie’s feet, he started to scrub, working his fingers against the soles of her feet to massage as he did so.

Was he into feet? Not really. Was he aroused because he was getting to do something for Mistress Julie that made her moan?

Hell, yeah.

Julie

Connor could give her a foot massage any day of the week. In fact, she was starting to think maybe she should demand it. His hands were huge, strong, and surprisingly gentle, though he seemed to have a knack for knowing exactly where to dig his fingers in to massage her soles. The slippery water and soap added to the experience, and he expertly washed and massaged her feet until she wanted to sink into a happy little melty puddle of contentment.

She was also squirming in her seat a little because she was enjoying his service. He was utterly intent, so focused on her feet, he didn’t even glance up at her—and she didn’t think it was because he was that into her feet. It had more to do with his determination to make her feel good, and he was using her feet to do so.

And it felt really damn good.

“Oh…” She sighed out the word as he hit a particularly sore spot.

Sometimes, when she was wearing her heels, she wondered who the real masochist was. They looked fantastic, but the older she got, the more of a number they did on her feet.

Opening her eyes, she looked down, watching him as he reverently handled her.

She wiggled her toes at him.

“Do you want to try kissing them?” It wasn’t her thing, but it might be his. She could tell he was enjoying himself. Even if he wasn’t into feet, he seemed to be the type who would be into body worship. It might not necessarily matter what part for that.

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