Chapter 3

Bruce had just gotten off the phone with his ex-wife. He’d had to beg her for money, which he desperately needed to buy a used pair of Natalie’s socks. She promised they still smelt from when she had peeled them off her petite feet at the gym, and Bruce needed them. He knew, from months and months of watching her videos, that it was his purpose in life to spend money on Majesty Natalie. He existed to fund and, occasionally, amuse her. He knew she was better than him, that his life was worth a fraction of hers, that he was inadequate in all ways. To him she was literally a Goddess. He worshiped her entirely.

Owning a pair of her socks would have been like owning prayer beads, ones he could put his pathetic nose to and inhale the scent of her. Even the stink of her feet would have been too good for him, he knew. He’d drained his bank account, and his ex-wife was unwilling to give him money, no matter what excuse he could come up with for needing it. Instead, he pulled out another credit card that would soon be maxed out, purchasing the socks obediently. Natalie had wanted him to do it, so he’d done it. She’d taught him that he was good for nothing, just a stupid goon slut that meant nothing to her.

Just as he was about to put the purchase through, he got a message from Natalie. Her phone lines were on! He’d been working up the courage to call her since he’d stumbled on her videos, but he knew he wasn’t good enough to have her sweet voice talking directly to him. He knew he’d make a fool of himself. Plus, it was expensive, nearly ten dollars per minute. But the card he was using was already going to be shut down by the end of the week, and Natalie already thought he was pathetic and a loser. He bought her used socks, and still half hard from the thrill of the purchase, he decided to call her. Hands shaking, he dialed her femdom phone line.

“Hello little simp,” Natalie’s voice was cruel and high, her inflection bratty and indifferent. Desire coursed through Bruce. Hearing her speak to him was almost enough to make him lightheaded, in part from all the blood that rushed to his cock in an instant.

“Natalie,” he breathed, unable to think of anything else to say.

“Goddess Natalie to you,” she said, already sounding bored of the conversation.

“I just bought your socks,” Bruce said. “I can’t wait for them to arrive, Goddess Natalie.”

“I’ll be you can’t, bitch. I bet it’s the best thing to happen in your sad life in a while, am I right?”

“Yes, Natalie, you’re right,” Bruce hurried to say. “I hope they still smell like you.”

Natalie made a non-committal noise of agreement, barely listening to Bruce. He could hear her TV, loud in the background. It was clear paying attention to Bruce was the last of the things Natalie planned to do. The disregard stung, and made Bruce’s cock ache.

“I bought your panties awhile back and—”

“Are you touching yourself right now, loser?” Natalie cut in, clearly not having been listening to him at all. “Sorry,” she added, not sounding sorry in the slightest. “I’m shopping for new shoes right now. Should I get the white ones with the pink accents or red ones? Which one are you buying for me, you loser wallet?”

“Whichever one you want, Goddess. And yes, I’m touching myself. I can’t help but stroke my cock when I think of you.”

Natalie giggled. “Yeah, I bet you can’t. I’ll send you a link to the sneakers, you can buy me both. I’m size five.” Bruce groaned, thinking about her tiny feet in shoes that he himself had bought. “Slow down the movements of your hands. You should have waited for me to tell you you could jerk off. You’re so disgusting and pathetic. No wonder you’re such a loser loner. Get on your knees. I want them bruised for me.”