Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

User 3267.Male. 27.

A little birdy told me you might be a sore girl in need of some ‘aftercare’ post BDSM. I’d love to treat you like a princess as I worship you – kissing, tasting, massaging everywhere from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, and I mean EVERYwhere. As many places as you’ll let me. Especially the tips of your toes, please. I adore feet.

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 being out of action until 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 my everywhere and 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 on arrived when 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 a thank 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 say don’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.

Holly needs to get in the zone.

He stares up at me and I stare down at him. What the hell am I supposed to say?

I clear my throat, give hm a little nod. “You may stand,” I tell him and he smiles at that, rising to his feet and bowing his head in return.

“Please, this way,” he says and leads me through to his living room.

I find a rich burgundy chaise longue waiting there ready for action, right in the middle of the room. It has gold cushions that I fluff up beside myself before I take a seat. It’s quite a majesty.

“May I offer you a drink?” he asks.

“Yes, please. I’d love one.”

“And what can I get for you? I have everything. Tea, coffee, juice, spring water.” He pauses. “And the very best champagne…”

I know what he wants me to take from him.

“I’d love a champagne, please. Thank you very much.”

His whole face lights up, like I’ve granted him a favour, and I want to giggle because it’s so damn cute to watch him dash through the double doors into the kitchen. He uncorks the bottle in a flash, but only pours one glass.

“Are you not having one?” I ask when he arrives back, but he shakes his head.

“No, Miss Holly, this bottle is all for you.” He hands the glass over, and takes the flowers from my side. “I’m sorry, I should put these in water, so they are fresh for you later.”

“That’s no problem.” I raise my glass to him. “Cheers, and thank you.”

We’re both watching each other as he wanders back through to the kitchen and puts my flowers in a vase.

I get another set of prickles at the way he’s so devout with his attention. He’s staring at every move I make, from the way my fingers hold the stem of the champagne glass, to the way I take a sip and swallow. He heads over to me slowly once the flowers are safe, then drops to his knees on the floor by my legs. Very up close and personal indeed.

That movement of his changes everything. The atmosphere morphs and heavies, and the want in the room feels almost palpable, it’s so thick. User 3267 reaches his hands up as though he wants to touch me, but they hover in mid-air, dithering.

“You can do it,” I tell him. “You can touch as well as look. You have permission.”

“Thank you.”

He wasn’t joking in his proposal when he said he likes feet. He peppers my toes with kisses through my leather sandal straps, almost delirious as he tells me how grateful he is. There is such fervour there already, my heart starts to race, thumping so fast I feel dizzy.

Eb was right.

I realise I’ve been an idiot to dismiss this kind of fantasy so easily – treating it like a spa visit, and not like a man who truly wants to worship a woman as a goddess in human form.

Time to get with it, and get myself in line.

I put down my champagne on the floor, and hitch my dress up, revealing my calves just an inch at a time.

His fingers are so gentle as he runs the tips up my skin. They give me goosebumps, and so does his mouth as he follows his tickles with kisses.

I’m already squirming when he reaches one of my knees.

“Want to see more?” I ask, and he nods.

“Please. Show me whatever you’re willing to grant me.”

That’s easy, since I’m willing to grant him everything.

He gasps as I stand up from the chaise longue and pull my dress up and over my head. His gaze soaks in the mottled purple and green of my thighs

“Beautiful,” he tells me, and I spread them, to give him a better view.

“I’d love you to kiss them better,” I tell him. “They need some love right now.”

He nods and carries on peppering kisses up my thigh, so meek that it gives me tingles on top of tingles, and he’s got me squirming some more – feral instincts coming to the fore – already wanting that gentle mouth of his on my needy pussy.

I’m gaining so much confidence week after week now, it’s unreal.

The nervous girl is definitely stepping into the confident woman, and this is a great environment to show it. I strip my bra and cast it aside, then tug my panties down and kick them free.

So, it’s just me, naked and bruised. Exposed for his stare.

I sit before User 3267, upright and proud, feeling like the goddess he wants me to be.

His touches are like butterflies as they dance across the bruises on my thighs.

“I know Harvey told me that you are a stunning creature, but I had no idea you would be this perfect.”

Harvey.

Harvey must be the guy who has a dungeon…

In the realms of normality, I could shake my head with a grin and tell User 3267 that I’m really not perfect, but even if I did, it wouldn’t come close to bursting his bubble. It’s a sensation that wraps me up in its glow and holds me tight. In his eyes, I’m the greatest woman in creation right now. It feels like he’s Adam, first setting eyes on his Eve. It feels glorious to be wanted so much, in exchange for so little.

I’m going to be Eve today. I want to be a goddess in this man’s deep blue eyes.

I feel an essence rising in me, from depths I didn’t know. My confidence takes hold of me and rushes through my veins, because here, in this space, I am his Eve. His one and only. His princess of perfection to serve and please.

Only the Eve of creation unlikely had bruises like mine…

And she’d be unlikely to spread her thighs wide to offer him her pussy, there for the taking…

“You said you wanted to worship my body,” I say. “So show me. Make me feel adored. Give me what you promised.” I spread my pussy lips for him, wanting his mouth on me. “Show me how good I taste.”

I don’t know what he’s experienced before from entertainers, but he stares mute, in shock as I hold myself open for him. All thoughts of this being a sweet spa day have gone from my shallow head. It’s got nothing to do with bathing and massage. It’s about adoration. Respect. Divinity.

“Are you certain? I may taste your… pussy?” he asks.

“I want you to taste my pussy. And if I really am your princess, you’ll do it without the need for my bathing and cleansing first, won’t you? You’ll take my dirtiness and make me clean. It’s been a long, dirty journey on the tube today.”

My words work like magic. I see him tremble as he licks his lips, ready to heed my calling, and what the hell – User 3267 has quite an unusual feature. His tongue is so beautifully long and thick, it’s going to be like a swirl of satin. He shows me again as he licks his way up my ankle.

“I’ll clean you slowly, Miss Holly,” he says. “I’ll savour everything.”

I’m transfixed as I watch him, lapping at me, and moaning at every taste. His tongue is magnificent, and my pussy clenches at the thought of what’s coming, because this guy knows what he’s doing with it. He uses it in places I never realised would be so sensitive – like the crease at the back of my knee – and sweeps it hard across tender, bruised flesh, like a massager. Twisting and twirling and it really is divine.

I could be his goddess Eve for days on end and never get bored.

I lean back on the chaise longue and tip my head back, eyes closed as I welcome him up and closer. I hold his head as he breathes into my ear, blessing me with shudders from tiny little kisses all the way down my neck. I always love those. They make me pant with want – and I have to stop myself urging him into me. It would be so fucking easy to take my want and have him use it. But no. NO. This is the proposal, and nothing more.

I play the dirty game he laid out to play, hitching myself and gasping as he worships my bruised tits with his tongue, flicking my nipples with the tip as he looks up at me.

“You’re lucky, aren’t you?” I say, trying to make sure I maintain my goddess position, and he nods, gratefully.

“I’m extremely lucky to be blessed with a queen like you.”

The luck is all mine when he begins to suck. My tits are still so tender that they spark pleasure down between my legs, and it’s going to be so much harder to keep my composure now… I won’t manage it…

Not unless I summon the strength to make him begin all over again.

“You haven’t earnt the honour of tasting my pussy yet,” I tell him. “Start over. On the floor. Kiss my feet again.”

I feel his hard-on against my thigh as he climbs straight down. No argument whatsoever.

“Yes, princess. Of course.”

I don’t know how I take another round of his tongue action. Even having my toes licked through my sandals gives me a fresh bout of shakes. My ankles are tickly, and my calves are tight as he kisses them all the way up to my knees. And then once again, slowly, he is on top of me, this time massaging my head through my hair, twisting strands in his fingers as I look to the side, so fucking sensitive on the back of my scalp.

“Fuck,” I whimper. “that’s so nice. More, please.”

He gives me more. He works my scalp like an expert, pressing in incredible spots while bearing his weight right down on me.

I’m the one moaning when he starts kissing my neck for the second time around, my hands up and over my head, arching for him as his wonderful mouth and tongue seek out my tender nipples. This time I need him on my pussy. I won’t be able to stop myself.

“You can clean me now,” I tell him. “Clean my dirty pussy, and give me the honour I deserve.”

“Thank you,” he says. “I’ll honour you with everything I have.”

I let him free on my pussy, spreading my thighs and letting him knead my bruises before he reaches the juncture. He breathes on me in wonder, running his fingers up and down my slit like it’s precious jewellery.

“Please, may I spread you?”

I remember my role.

“No. Not yet. You haven’t earnt the privilege.”

He groans at my words, teasing me with his fingertips some more. He tastes the creases between my thighs and pussy, then nudges his nose ever so slightly against my clit. But he can’t see it. My slit is closed tight, even though I’m dripping for him.

“Kiss me,” I tell him and he peppers my pussy with soft kisses, over and over and it’s so intense I want to slam my needy cunt in his face, but no.

“Please, may I spread you now?” he asks, and I look down with a smirk.

“No,” I tell him, “kiss my dirty hole.”

My God, when he presses his lips to my asshole and drops kiss after kiss after kiss, I swear I could come if he kept it up.

He stops for a breath and looks up at me.

“I’m eager to clean you, Miss Holly. May I spread you now?”

“Are you going to give me the honour I truly deserve?”

“More than anything, I promise.”

“Then yes, you may spread me now.”

I try to stay still as he slowly splays my pussy open like it’s a sacred flower, gasping at the sight of my clit swimming in pure, dripping want. His tongue is so thick it’s like a long, wet swipe of brilliance as he tastes the length of me, sucking at my clit like a baby craving a nipple. That’s the level of need I feel from him. He’s trembling, shaking as he eats my pussy, coaxing me open with his fingers and sinking his tongue in deep.

I take hold of the back of his head, pressing against him.

“That’s it. Honour my cunt, just like that.”

He tenses up at my words, sucking and lapping harder, and I don’t give a fuck about being a perfect goddess anymore, I’m a horny one.

“You’re such a good servant,” I say. “You’re going to make me come. Would you like that? Would you like the honour of making me come for you?”

The way he nods against my fucking slit drives me wild.

“Keep nodding!” I say. “Keep telling me! Showing me!”

What a combination. Nods, moans, gasps, licks and sucks – but nothing inside me other than a probing tongue. No fingers, no cock to stretch me deep, just a guy’s mouth all over me, sending me insane.

He’s shuddering along with me when I come against his face. His tongue is lapping up and down me, his nose rubbing my clit as I burst and lose control.

Oh my fucking God, it’s divine.

I’m sure I’m soaking the fabric underneath me as I dribble wet in the aftermath. I hitch myself up to show him and he breathes in the filthy wet patch with a smile.

“Now you’ve earnt my toes,” I say, swimming in the sea of post orgasm bliss.

He unbuckles my heels slowly and slides them free, sitting cross-legged on the floor with his pants clearly bulging through his jeans as he begins the journey of foot worship.

Fuck.

If I’d have known how good it felt to have someone’s tongue squirming between my toes with such purpose, I’d have waved my feet in front of Connor every night after work until he damn well relented.

The arches of my feet are more sensitive than I knew, and kisses on my ankles are pure windows to body shakes… but my little toes… the ones he sucks so gently on… fuck.

I can barely keep my breath as he switches from foot to foot… and my pussy can’t resist the clenches that signal I need more.

“You’re doing so well, I’m going to play with myself,” I tell him. “Take it as praise.”

“I take it as great praise, thank you.”

I work my clit while he teases and tempts my toes, fucking myself with my fingers while he keeps working his magic on the floor.

“Your feet are beautiful,” he tells me, and I grin at the ceiling.

“Thank you. Your tongue has a good way of demonstrating it.”

He stares up at me with hooded eyes as I play, looking so fucking dirty with my big toe in his mouth.

“Have I earnt the honour of pleasuring you everywhere?” he asks me between sucks, and I watch him, trying to fathom quite what he means as my fingers strum to my rhythm.

“You want to honour my pussy again? Is that what you’re asking?” I say, but he shakes his head, sucking my toe nice and deep again before he answers.

“No, Miss Holly. I’d like to honour your ass. I want to honour your ass as you play with yourself. Please, grant me the pleasure.”

Even the thought has my clit buzzing harder, and I’m too far gone to give a fuck how exposed I am. I nod as I tug my legs up on the chaise longue and haul them up by my shoulders, because holy fuck, I want User 3267’s long, wet tongue deep inside my dirty ass, and I’m going to come while he does it. We manoeuvre so easily, him helping me get my legs up even higher.

He pulls my ass cheeks apart, staring transfixed as I clench my hole for him, and he groans when he gently touches his lips to my asshole.

I sigh for him. “Clean me out,” I order while rubbing at my clit.

“Of course, princess,” he says and it’s my turn to moan as he pushes his tongue in deep.

It feels so weird, his long tongue swirling inside me, but I love it.

“More,” I tell him, sinking three fingers into my soaked pussy.

He pulls his tongue free and sucks on my asshole. Damn, it’s fucking heaven as I pump my fingers.

“Suck harder,” I tell him, and he does, he sucks so hard, it’s a whole new experience for me. A whole new filthy experience that I want more of.

“Harder!” I say, “much harder!” and my servant complies, sucking my asshole so hard my hand’s trembling as I finger myself.

“Now deeper!” I say and he stops sucking and slides his tongue all the way back in, lapping and swirling as the first sparks of orgasm burn me up.

“Don’t stop,” I order. “Don’t you dare stop!”

I stretch myself with four fingers as I pinch my clit with my other hand and I’m done… squirming over my servant’s face, his tongue still swirling in my ass as I come for a second time.

My whole body is racked with tremors on the comedown, every nerve on fire. I’m smiling, high as a kite as I stroke User 3267’s dirty face, rewarding his efforts with a nod.

“You were fantastic. Thank you. That was amazing.”

“Thank you, princess, but you talk as though we’re finished. You still deserve more honour.”

I don’t know what he’s talking about until he stands and helps me onto my unsteady legs. I’m still getting my balance when he scoops me up into his arms and carries me through his apartment to the bathroom. He’s still holding me when he flicks on the shower and waits until it’s hot. I feel so secure in his arms.

“I’d love to honour you by soaping you clean,” he says, and I nod, ready for the flow as he puts me down under the shower head.

He puts even Daddy to shame with his bathing skills. His expertise with soapy massage is worthy of a damn salon. He’s so attentive that I must be foamed up three times over, so softly scrubbed as he works his way between my legs. At one point I have to brace myself, the end of the sponge tickling my clit so hard it overpowers me for a third time running, and I can barely stand when he’s finally washed me clean and helped me out of there. I’m exhausted with the thrill as he towels me dry.

“Have I pleased you?” he asks.

I almost say something clever about his incredible tongue, but remember my place – my role.

I place an appreciative hand on his shoulder. “More than I ever hoped for,” I tell him.

His smile is so genuine, I actually feel happy for him.

“Then,” he says, “if I may, can have my reward now?”

I give a solemn nod, wondering what his reward is going to be, then, ah, yes. I remember what the proposal said once he drops me back on the chaise longue.

He raises my feet up on the cushions, and then he drops his pants.

Oh fuck, I wish it was going to be plunging inside me, but his eyes are fixated on my bare feet as if they are gifts from Heaven above. He drops to his knees and holds my soles together, working his cock between them, like he’s fucking a slit between the arches. He rubs the head of his dick against my toes, leaving them slick with precum as he goes, and soon he’s a bucking wreck, slamming my feet like they’re a pussy as he grunts and groans.

I urge him on by groping my tits and playing with my nipples. He’s panting now, licking his lips as he thrusts and grunts.

“That feels so good,” I tell him, and it pushes him off the cliff.

He spurts cum over my bare feet, then smiles down as he smears it in – massaging wet, sloppy jizz between my toes.

Damn, he looks so proud of himself.

“Thank you,” I say, wiggling my sticky toes for him.

He grins at that. “May I buckle your shoes back up now, please?” he asks.

“Of course.”

I’m going to be walking away from his apartment with drying cum all over my feet, but I couldn’t give a shit. The thought makes me grin.

He puts my shoes on first, then helps dress me as I finish up my champagne, still treating me like a heroine from a romance story. He tells me over and again just how good I am to worship, and I take all of his praise with nods and smiles and thank yous.

It’s a dirty thrill when I leave his apartment block, with a bunch of flowers in my hands and a client’s jizz drying around my toes. So many people pass me by without a clue. Oblivious to the world of entertainment I’m involved with.

I’d take User 3267’s jizz between my toes any day of the year – especially with the five-star review that comes after it, and the eight hundred pounds that land in my bank account.

Happy Christmas to me.