Page 81 of The Naughty List

I’d love to come over yours when we’re done, but that’s all. I expect nothing else in return. Just my cum over your toes when I’ve earnt it.

Please give me the chance to worship you.

Duration – 4 hours.

Price – £1000

What a thingto land in my proposal inbox.

I’d pretty much resigned myself to beingout of actionuntil my bruises healed, but I guess not. I grin my head off because it’s obvious just who the ‘little birdy’ must be, and the ‘little birdy’ is right… I could do with some lovely ‘aftercare’ after the thrashing I took in his dungeon the other night, so why not take 3267 up on his proposal? I’ve never been treated to such a mega sounding spa day, let alone been offered £1000 to accept one.

I laugh as I share that with Ebony, but she shakes her head at me.

“Just be careful. Body worship isn’t quite a spa day, Ells. I mean, it can be, but when he says he wants to worship you EVERYwhere, he probably has a lot of EVERYwhere places in mind.”

I’m still smiling. “He can worship my EVERYwhere all day long. I can take it.”

“What about your feet? Are you ticklish?”

“Nope. Connor sucked my toes a few times when we were drunk. I loved it. He didn’t fancy it so much once we were sober, unfortunately. I used to wiggle my feet at him after a full-on day at the store, but he’d turn his nose up and push them away.”

“Cheeky bastard. You should have got one last toe sucking demo out of him before you turfed him out on his ass the other day.”

I hold my feet up to the camera, wiggling my toes. “User 3267 can have them instead.”

“I’m sure he’ll be mega grateful. Just take it seriously, ok? Worshippers can get pretty intense.”

I can’t wait to see how much more willingly my next client takes to the task than Connor ever did.

For all the laughing and joking, the nerves are still there like jingling fire sticks when the time comes around to get ready. Bravado shrivels up under the five-star reviews and my heartrate is as high as ever as I picture my task ahead with a stranger.

This stranger happens to want to worship myeverywhereand jizz on my toes in the aftermath. Hardly another regular day at the office.

The idea of being body worshipped up close and personally is a way more intimidating task than I figured it would be. I’ve never been so careful with showering, and shaving, and moisturising than I am as I get ready for him. I make sure my feet are prepped as well as they can be – nails clipped and pumice stone used to the max, before I paint my toenails a cute shade of pink and set off. I make my way to User 3267’s North London apartment in a short little wrap dress, hidden by my long leather coat. I chose stiletto-heeled sandals, and my feet feel the cold for it, but I want to take the tube today – not a cab. I love the atmosphere of Christmas brewing in the streets every step of the way. The lights are so festive, and the chill of the air is so alive.

I try to make the most of the trademark British chill.

Just a few more weeks to go and I’ll be needing beach sandals – not stiletto ones.

I click onarrivedwhen I get to User 3267’s apartment block and get told to buzz the doorbell for number seven. The door clicks open as soon as I do, and I climb my way up the bright, open staircase. Even in the dullness of the late December afternoon, it’s such a lovely, light place – tasteful but not extravagant. Just the kind of place I’d like to live, if I had the money.

But I do now, don’t I? I do have the money to afford somewhere nice, like this.

I shove that thought aside for the moment. This afternoon is about body worship, and a guy who likes foot play. Not for pondering rental options.

The door swings open and User 3267 takes me aback with a sweet, broad grin on his face. He’s a lovely floppy-haired blond guy, and he looks younger than 27, in a shirt and sweater with dark blue jeans.

He’d never be my type in the world outside, but here, now, he’s a treasure.

He presents me with a gorgeous bouquet of roses and lilies that puts Connor’s bullshit bunch to shame. I give him athank you. They are absolutely beautiful.

“You’re very welcome,” he tells me.

He hangs my coat up with so much care, you’d think it was worth millions, and looks me up and down with such utter admiration I get prickles.

“Holly, I’m so grateful you’re doing me the honour of letting me worship you today.”

Standing with a glorious bunch of flowers in my hand, his sentiment feels kind of weird. He drops to his knees and stares up at me like I’m a queen, and I almost want to tug him to his feet and saydon’t worry, it’s cool, you’re great, too,but that isn’t the point of this. I’ve got to get in the zone.

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