Chapter 21: Weights and Counterweights

Fiona’s diary:

It was much more pleasant to wake up slowly, of my own accord, than to be startled by an alarm. I must have still been half asleep, because it took me a while to work out what the warm, soft thing pressing against my soles was. When I did, I felt a little pleasurable shudder, and then Mandy’s breath on my feet.

I was used to sleeping alone, but Mandy was a joy in bed. No, not that way; ok, that way too. I meant she hardly tossed or move about, except when she was having nightmares. Other than that, she kept still and let me take up most of the room like a good girl, and when she lay head to toe, like this time, she practically curled herself up at my feet. Being tiny helped, but it was her attitude, too. She knew sleeping with me was a privilege she should be grateful for.

Her breath was slow and even. She must have been asleep, still, so I let myself take it all in at leisure. This was a position I had wanted to put her in right from the start, from the first time I had let her in my bed. There was so much more I looked forward to, but it was a wonderful symbol of her submission and trust. With other girls, I would be feeling the thrill of conquest. It was different with Mandy. I was a hunter, and some smugness in victory was inevitable, but there were other, stronger things inside me.

My feet stroked her face, so gently she didn’t even stir. She was mine, and owning her drew an almost maternal, protective affection from me, mixed with the possessive pride of someone who had just acquired a rare, invaluable treasure.

I called her name, very quietly. She didn’t react, and I let myself wallow a few more seconds in the pleasure of possessing her. A smile came to my lips that I didn’t bother restraining. There was lots to be joyful about. I had plans for the day, though, so I called her again, loud and clear. It was time to get moving.

She heard me at last, and yawned. I laughed, pressing my feet hard on her, taking advantage of her abject position. her cheeks warmed up against my soles as I teased her.

With a little prompting, she performed her morning ritual of adoration, kissing my feet, hands and forehead, and making pledges of submission. A thrill of power ran through me. I owned her. I really did.

I couldn’t wait anymore. I pounced on her, turned her on her front, and as I was about to have my way with her, I heard her wince.

After some firm probing, she confessed she got neck cramps. I should have known. The position I made her sleep in wasn’t meant for comfort.

She hadn’t told me because she didn’t think she mattered. Damn. I gritted my teeth and slapped her, frustrated, wishing I were hitting her abusive cousins and every single person who’d ever bullied her instead. Naturally, I didn’t use the sort of force I would against them. The thought of making them all whimper and cry rivers of tears as they begged for my mercy and Amanda’s forgiveness was particularly comforting.

My pet deserved better, and I would teach her to believe in herself, even if I had to slap her silly in the process. Her respect for me would have to serve as a foundation, so I explained my property shouldn’t be neglected. Feeling special because she was mine would do for the moment.

Calling her stupid may not have been the best idea, though. She winced, and I had to remind myself once more to be careful. The border between belittling her for our mutual pleasure and undermining her confidence was very, very thin. Of all things in the world, being stupid shouldn’t have been something Mandy ever had to worry about. Amazing what years of despise and neglect could do to someone.

I sighed, helped her stretch comfortably, picked up the lotion from my drawer, and worked it into her neck and shoulders, repeating the insult, but loading it with all the love and regard I was capable of, hoping she’d understand I had spoken out of concern.

Her reaction was all I could want. She shuddered under my hands, relaxing deeply, and slowing her breathing down to nothing. When she managed to ask me about the massage, her words were practically slurred with bliss.

She was putty in my hands, and as she sighed, I poured more lotion, to rub her entire back. It must have been the first time someone did this for her, and I relished how intense it was for my little Mandy.

I wasn’t even the best masseuse in school, far more prone to receiving than giving them. Doubtless she’d give me the opportunity to practise and improve. Seeing her appreciation, I was glad to have introduced her to this pleasure. Since I decided to make her mine, I wanted to be her first in all things. It wasn’t jealousy. Only, I wanted to see her fresh, unrehearsed responses, as I helped her discover new experiences, but she was welcome to have what fun she could, with me or anyone else.

After indulging her for a while, I gently held her head and checked her range of movement. She’d be fine. Without me noticing, the poor thing might have been sore for the entire day. We’d see if the lesson stuck. In the meantime, I’d keep a close eye on her.

I asked her about her night, and she dithered and mumbled. So soon after that slap, I opted for a bribe instead. I scratched her back, and could feel her melt on the spot. It was so adorable it made me giggle. The little sweetie was my toy, now and forever, and there were so many ways for me to enjoy her.

“So, are you going to tell me, little one?” I asked. “Of course, if you don’t care for this...”

I scratched so lightly it drew moans out of her, right on the edge of tickling.

“Mandy?” I said.

“Um, it ... What do you want to know?” She whined as my fingers continued their dance on her back. “Please, don’t stop.”

“Everything, my sweet. Tell me how you felt sleeping with your face pressed against my fragrant feet.”

At first, she found it hard to get enough air to talk, and later the words wouldn’t come. She stuttered, sighed, and took a breath, trying to compose herself.

“It was confusing,” she said. “I felt so small, and missed being, um--”

“You wanted me to cuddle you, did you?”

She nodded.

“Small, huh?” I said. “So you didn’t like it?” I suspected she had.

“Uh, not ... exactly?” My hands drew another moan from her. “Gods, that’s distracting ... no, please, go on...” I laughed. “It’s how you said. I felt small, and humble, but it also felt ... good, right, like it was my place, and I belonged there. I belonged at your feet.”

A shudder ran through her body after that admission. That was most of what I wanted.

“That sounds rather nice. Maybe that will be little Mandy’s place to sleep from now on.”

She blushed, and I chuckled.

“I ... I realised that I’m...” The words got stuck on her throat. “Fiona, it’s hard.”

I stroked her back. “I know, sweetie. Opening up like this makes you vulnerable, but that’s how it should be between us.” I leaned forward and kissed the back of her neck. “You long to be understood, don’t you, little one? If you are to be mine, I must master you. Doesn’t it feel good to help me take ownership of you?” I bit her, rather hard.

“Oh, goodness ... Last night I couldn’t stop thinking, trying to make sense of it all, shuddering with every breath I took. Please, don’t make fun of me ... I--”

“Hush, darling,” I said, running my fingers through her hair, still knotty after sleep. “I know when you need me to be gentle.”

Shivers and goose bumps were all she was capable of as I went on scratching her, sometimes so lightly my nails barely touched her skin, and others much, much harder.

“So those were your emotions,” I said. “How about sensations?”

For a while, I thought she wasn’t going to answer, but right before I asked again, she started talking.

“Um, it was ... very warm, and tight,” she said. “I could hardly move. Dark, too; and of course, well, your feet were right in front of my nose, so...” She blushed. “So I could smell them, and it drove me crazy. I kept kissing--”

“I noticed.” My tone was light.

“Right, so I got, um, um...”

“Excited?”

“Yes,” she said, almost in a whisper.

“Did little Mandy get all bothered smelling my sweaty soles?” I giggled.

“Yes...”

“And feeling trapped like that?”

Her back arched beneath my hands, and I found it increasingly difficult not to turn her over and ravage her then and there. Property has duties, though, as they said. If I couldn’t control myself, how could I ever control her?

“I ... haven’t thought about that. It was kind of oppressive, with all the heat. The air was stuffy. Being that close to you was nice., though.”

“Ah, safe and snug?”

She nodded, and I smiled, knowing my plans were on course. I patted her butt, making her squeal, and got her up from bed, ready to serve. She followed my standing orders to the letter, adorable on her knees, getting all flustered as she put my slippers on for me, kissing them afterwards. Her quiet obedience and my pleasure in dominating her fed off each other, in a spiral that was difficult to stop.

It became clear that it wasn’t just my impression when she asked if she could approach me of her own initiative. My previous pets wouldn’t have doubted. Rose was a warm, cuddly little thing, and Syl was devoted, if reticent. Amanda’s reluctance had worried me a bit, though she was responsive enough when I played with her. I was happy to realise it wasn’t indifference, but humility and shyness. Good thing she managed to overcome them.

As soon as I approved, she took her place on my lap, kissed my breasts, and told me how much she wanted me. Finding suitable endearments was hard for her, and I could see why. Most of them could sound belittling, and she was right not to use those. I would never be Mandy’s baby, but I was happy for her to call me her beloved, and tell me she adored me.

Licking my nipples was getting us both very aroused. It might have been a bit too intense for her. She tried to move away, and I had fun pressing her head against me, grabbing handfuls of hair to keep her in place. When she tried touching herself, I stopped her, too, and made it clear my pleasure was her one and only care. After a while, I had to let her go. It was either that or bring things to a conclusion, so to speak, and I didn’t want to go that way.

Her look of disappointment when I forbade her to kiss my lips until she washed made resisting the urge to fuck her even harder, but somehow, we managed to move on. Once she cleaned her face, she tried to kiss me again, and this time I allowed her, probing her mouth with my tongue an supporting her when she swooned in my arms. It was a wonder we made it to the kitchen.

For once I was grateful for the over-engineered monstrosity Father had installed as a sound system, as it gave me something to do. While Mandy got my breakfast ready, I fiddled around on the tablet until I found the precise album that fit my mood. My tastes were pretty broad, which sometimes made it hard to know what to listen to. Having such an extensive collection at my fingertips didn’t help, either.

In the end, I went with an anthology of Sibelius’ piano pieces. They were calming, soft, and yet contained a deeper, wistful longing, much like I and Amanda felt for each other, strong and enduring, however difficult it was to express.

I sat down and kept an eye on my little cook. She stopped humming when the music started playing, but I still found her awfully cute in her frilly apron, moving to and fro as she carried out domestic tasks.

Knowing how enticing I found her made her blush, which drove me to tease her even more. I got her to admit she liked pleasing me through her service, and I wondered outloud if that was all she needed to have a good life. She took my question more seriously than I intended. I suspected she had never thought about it, and the idea conjured all kinds of enthralling fantasies. Still, after some delightful signs of confusion, she realised she needed something more. It was a relief. I’d have no problem supporting her if she really wanted to be my full-time domestic slave, but it would have been a waste of a remarkable mind.

My parents came in right as she was blushing, dreaming of being my house servant. Mother, perceptive as always, asked about it, and I took the opportunity to poke fun at her. It amused Mother, and stopped Father from fretting.

“I’m glad she came this weekend,” Mother said. “We needed a break--at least I did--and she gave us the perfect excuse.”

“You weren’t the only one,” Father said. “Getting to know her’s been a pleasure. You girls getting along, I hope?”

“Sure,” I said. “Mostly smooth sailing so far.”

“Mostly?” Father’s tendency to poke at the edges of sentences could be rather annoying.

“Well, there are always surprises and misunderstandings when people get close.” I looked at Mother. “I’ve been thinking of sponsoring her to the Spinners’ next social.”

Father tuned out, listening to the music while he waited for his food.

“I don’t know about that,” Mother said. “Is she really the type?”

“Maybe not.” I looked at Amanda, so joyful and lost in her work, and wondered. The Spinners meant opportunities for those willing to grasp them, but they were also a hyper-competitive nest of snakes. “I’ll think about it. It’s not till mid November anyway.”

“I noticed you got her lots of stuff yesterday, including that laptop she was pining for.” I laughed, as my mother’s words reminded me of our little adventure at the shop. “Charge that to the family’s expense account. We’ll see what we do for an allowance, but I don’t want to overwhelm her.”

Yesterday’s welcome to the family had been in earnest. It was odd for Father to have done it, given Mother was in charge, but that much was clear. Still, Amanda hadn’t reconciled to it yet, so there might be something to the notion of easing her into it slowly.

“You sure about it all?” I asked. “It’s all going very fast.” I had no objections myself.

“We’re not shy of nurturing talent. Fostering’s an ancient Irish tradition. Even if you two weren’t involved, we’d find a way to help her out. As things are ... she won’t exactly be your sister, now will she?”

I laughed. My feelings towards Mandy were not at all sisterly. Then again, weren’t they? I wanted to take care of her, like I imagined an older sister would. Perhaps it wasn’t such a crazy idea, so long as mutual orgasms were included. Making her dress the part in that shop had been fun. I giggled again.

“You don’t know how glad I am to see you like this,” Mother said.

“Laughing like an idiot?”

Her gaze was soft as she raised her hand and stroked my cheek.

“Truly caring for someone.” She sniffed, in a rare display of emotion. “Someone who truly cares for you.” She took a breath and her expression became serene and unreadable again. “We’re taking this seriously. Don’t make me regret it. You’re the mature one of the two, so you’re responsible for making it work, and I’ll hold you to that.”

Irritating as it was, Mother was right. It wasn’t just my business anymore. I’d got the family to accept my Mandy, and now the Esmonde name was on the line, giving her a say. Failure was no longer an option.

“I’ve no intention to screw up,” I said. “By the way, chances are I won’t be around for New Year.”

She looked at Amanda and I nodded.

“I’ll miss you, but she’d miss you more,” she said.

“It’s not that. Not just that. They won’t hurt her ever again.” I gritted my teeth and my eyes teared up. “I won’t permit it.”

Mother’s fingers touched her lips. We’d talk about this later.

“Other than that, is Amanda doing ok?” Hearing her name, she turned towards us. “Has she seen all your toys yet?”

Since Mother wanted to change the topic, I started teasing Amanda, making her blush. We’d discuss other matters privately.

After she served us, Mother winked at me, and told her to make more tea, making her get up before she even started eating. I suspected she shared my taste for dominating sweet, biddable girls, or boys, but that pretty much confirmed it. I bit my lip, wondering if she’d want to play with Mandy, and if so, how far she’d go. Perhaps it was strange, but I found the idea of having her at our feet, submitting to us both, quite alluring.

I kept Mandy busy, giving her orders every time she was about to sit. Mother’s laughter joined mine, but she found it impossible to complain or refuse.

Father had been in his own world during the meal. Sometimes he got that way when he was trying to solve problems. He perked up when I mentioned collaring Amanda, though. His objections may have been well-intentioned, but he implied I might replace her.

Mother and I looked at each other, horrified. Amanda turned away from me, avoiding my gazed, and shivered as she cleared the kitchen. I sighed.

At least one of my parents was not an idiot. How Father could be so sharp about most things and so ... dense sometimes ... Mother scalded him for me, and I got Mandy to sit on my lap. I could feel her squirm against me when I started feeding her, but though she was embarrassed and wanted to move, I knew my attention made her feel safe and cared for, even if she wouldn’t admit it.

One thing led to another, and I let my hands roam all over her as I mused how I was going to toy with her all day long. We kissed, and it must have looked as sizzling as it felt, because my parents had the good sense to notice each other’s arousal, hold hands, and leave us to it.

I hoped they had fun with each other. They deserved it.

I nibbled on Mandy’s earlobe and she shuddered against me.

“Um, I ... I ... have to wash the dishes?” she said.

“Later.” I got up. “I can think of better things to do now.” I licked my lips. “And so can you.”

With a nod, she opened the kitchen door, and walked towards my bedroom.

“No.” I placed my hand on her shoulder and led her towards the basement.

Downstairs, she headed towards one of the bedrooms in the apartment. Good guess, but wrong. I held her hand and walked her to the dungeon. As I opened the thick, sound-proof door, she went pale.

“But ... but ... you said that’s where p-pets go when they’re bad...” She would have crushed my hand if she had the strength for it.

“Hush.” I stroked her hair with my other hand, running my fingers through it. “Have you been bad? That’s just one use for it. I need all sorts of equipment for sessions, and that’s where I keep it.”

“Uh, s-so you’re n-not going to hurt me?”

What could I do with my darling girl, so sweet and innocent? I hugged her tight and kissed the top of her head.

“No, silly. You did nothing wrong.” I pouted theatrically, and put on a whiny, childish tone. “Come on, don’t you want to play with me?”

She looked up and giggled. That was more like it. I could still see some signs of tension, but she nodded and walked into the heart of my lair, with me right behind. The door closed with an authoritative thud, and I slid the bolt shut.

“So, what happens now?” She still sounded nervous, but at least she dared a question.

“First,” I said, “you strip for me.” I rummaged around, and got some rope and leather cuffs from the shelves. “Mandy!” I clapped. “Move it.”

I unfolded and placed a raised wooden platform in the middle of the room, and tied ropes to each corner, as she removed her clothes, neatly arranging them on a chair.

“Hands on your head,” I said, annoyed at her covering herself. “Don’t you get it by now? I enjoy looking at you naked.”

At least she complied like a good girl, if a little hesitant. Her shyness could be rather endearing sometimes, but also irksome on occasion.

“S-sorry, Miss. It’s j-just I know I’m ... ugly.”

So it was not just modesty. I sighed, crouched down by her, and focused on her tiny body. Sure, she was short, thin and rather flat, but adorable as hell. She was all of a piece, small, but delicate and graceful. What else could I ask for?

I let her see my genuine delight in her form, and looked into her eyes.

“You’re my pretty little Mandy, and so cute I could just eat you up, sweetie.”

She looked back, appraising my sincerity, and, as she realised I meant every word, blushed down to her beautiful breasts. Her nipples hardened, and I chose to believe it was excitement rather than cold.

“Thank you, Miss,” she said, and though she spoke softly, she was no longer stuttering. “Feels good to know my body ... does that to you.”

I smiled, and gently guided her to the platform. “Up here.” I patted the wooden surface.

As she came close, I gave her a boost, making her lie in the middle of the board, with legs and arms spread out. She complained a little when I tied a loop around each of her limbs, but I soothed her, caressing her body with the palms of my hands, and adjusted the ropes, binding her tight.

“There, there, darling,” I said. “Fiona’ll take care of you. It’s just to keep you in place. This will be fun, I promise.”

It was my turn to climb on, and I sat on her, stretching my feet towards her head.

My slippers got quite smelly, and made my feet sweat. That was one reason I liked them. Even wearing them for a bit, while we had breakfast, I was sure they’d make a difference, especially since I stayed sockless, all for my little Mandy. Wasn’t I kind and thoughtful?

The smirk on my face was unavoidable. My helpless plaything had no escape as I used her cheeks to remove my slippers, wedging the heels against them, and shoved my toes in her nose, forcing her to smell.

At first embarrassment made her reluctant, but soon she gave in, and began to take deep breaths. One foot stroked her face while she sniffed the other, swapping every few seconds.

They must have been pretty rank. Since I realised Mandy liked my feet, I had been making no special effort to keep them clean. I made sure to take regular showers--I had to be alluring and desirable, after all, and I didn’t like feeling grubby--but I used the same socks for days, and let the smell build up. At the beginning, I didn’t know if she liked the stink, but it made no difference. I wanted to inflict it on her, and give her no choice about it. Whether it was a torment or a treat was immaterial.

As it turned out, it seemed to be both. She kept taking deep lungfuls of my foot stench, but every now and then her lips pursed and her nose flared, as if it became a bit much for her. The few times she tried to move away, I cupped her nose with my toes, gently pressing down and making it clear she had no way out. She was mine to use, and I wanted all her air to be seasoned with my pungent, unwashed foot scent.

Her body writhed beneath me, pinned down by my weight, helplessly straining against her bonds. I tapped her cheek with my sole, and made her sniff harder. She stuttered, blushed, shivered ... but complied. I held her gaze, and mocked her, letting my toes lightly trace her lips. Shame and eagerness mixed in her eyes, in an utterly delicious brew. My feet withdrew, leaving her wanting for more, just like I thirsted for her submission.

Nothing but her complete surrender would fulfil me. I demanded her to abase herself, to beg for the feet she yearned for, brushing her lips with my big toe and playing keep-away. She was so transparent. I could see the tension inside her, dignity and shame fighting against obedience and pleasure, and how, little by little, her nature won, crushing the false front she had been taught to maintain. When her voice came out, shaky and hesitant, I knew she was mine.

After that, I let her kiss my toes. Still embarrassed, she gave me a light peck, unsatisfying for us both, but it only took a reminder for her to do better, pressing her open lips and lapping at them. A gentle push, and she began to suck, like the compliant little foot slut I had always wanted.

It felt so good. Her tongue was warm and gentle against my skin as she scrubbed and slurped my toe dirt. The wet, sucking sounds made me laugh, and I could see the shame and lust in her eyes. I gave her no rest, and kept watching her intently, leaving her no room to hide.

“Hmm.” I sighed and spread my toes. “Is that yummy, my little toe sucker?” The crimson glow of her cheeks was a sight I could never get tired of. “Open wider.”

With a low moan, she let my foot deeper into her mouth.

“Good girl,” I said. “Now, you prepared a nice breakfast for me, so I’m serving you dessert.” I giggled. “Get in between my toes and lick all the foot filth.”

As soon as I said it, I felt the tip of her tongue darting in and out, probing and swabbing. Good thing I wasn’t ticklish.

“Hmm, just like that, little one. You like that, don’t you? Is it your favourite dish?” A little moan and even faster licking served as her ascent. “Of course it is, sweetie, and I made it just the way you like it: warm, thick and strong.”

It took no time at all to take me from amusement to arousal. I started leaking between my legs, and rubbed my crotch against her. My gaze stayed on her face, watching her every reaction, and letting her know she belonged to me.

She moaned, and, before I knew it, I realised I was thrusting my foot in and out, my toes spreading and clenching against her tongue, and my hands squeezing my breasts. I called her all kinds of names as she moaned and whimpered, wordlessly pledging her service, devoting every bit of her mouth to my pleasure. Even when she groaned with discomfort, she let me use her, pushing my whole foot in, forcing her jaws and cheeks open.

“Suck my toes, slave!” I was shivering myself, overcome by the thrill of dominating her. “Eat the dirt I walk on, dig out all the crud off with your tongue; your face belongs beneath my feet, my rug to tread on; your mouth is my foot basin, my pet!”

She let me play with her, opposing no resistance. In fact, she allowed my foot free access to her mouth, and when I pulled it away she stuck out her tongue, eager for me to use it like a toe-rag.

All throughout, my free foot idly played with her. I caressed her cheek, run my toes through her hair, soiling and staining it with sweat and grime, and lightly pinched her earlobe while she tongued-bathed the other.

Both of us were panting and quivering. I had lost all sense of time, as my consciousness dissolved in the act of branding my ownership on my perfect, cherished slave. She was my property, and all the more treasured for it.

“Miss ... please...” Her words were slurred, her tongue clumsy against my toes’ pressure. “Please ... touch me ... touch your little Mandy?”

So, it wasn’t just me. Using her like this, commanding and degrading her, had turned her into mush, too. As hard as she found asking for things, she must have been desperate. My own pussy was throbbing with desire, though I had considerable experience controlling myself.

Still, my satisfaction came first. On occasion I might choose otherwise, but there was no particular reason for it now, and this was a lesson I looked forward to teaching her.

It took her no time to accept my deal: perfect obedience in exchange for pleasure. Now I just had to see how far she’d go.

My pussy was dripping. My fingers slid easily inside, and gleamed with my thick, creamy juices when I took them out. I gave Mandy no choice or chance to object, and put them in her mouth.

She sucked them clean, needing no instructions.

It took all my self-discipline not to sit on her face and grind against her for all she was worth, but firsts were important. This would be the first time she licked me, or anyone else. Her complaints yesterday were not entirely groundless. I wanted to do the right thing this time, and she deserved to be asked if she wanted it, even if we both knew the answer.

I gave her that chance. Telling her I planned to use her like a toy, that I would use her face until I flooded her with my come, only got me more worked up. Of course she said yes. In fact, she begged for it, confirming I’d been right: explicitly submitting to me made it even hotter for her. Consent, as they say, is sexy.

The time for words was over. I held on to her hair and pressed her against me, rubbing her nose up and down my slit, nudging my clit. I leaked all over her opened mouth, and felt her try to squirm, contained by my strength and the binds tying her.

She licked me, hesitant at first, but it didn’t take her long to thrust the tip of her tongue inside me. My pussy throbbed involuntarily, and I felt her push and twirl, trying to get deeper in. It felt so good, I kept squeezing, enjoying her frantic attempts to get further, fighting my tight but soft embrace.

It didn’t matter that she was a novice. I was in charge, and I knew how to get myself off on someone’s face. Even so, she was doing her best, and marking her with my scent and flavour, turning her into my very own sex toy, satisfied my dominant desires.

“Yes, slave!” I said. “Lick your owner’s cunt. Dig in and lap up all my cream like a good, submissive little plaything!”

The closer I got, the rougher I became, pulling on her hair and squashing her nose on me. She ran out of breath and writhed against me, but I only allowed her a few moments of air before I squeezed her between my thighs and forced her to continue. On and on I went, bringing myself to the edge of climax, slathering her in my juices, and giving her only an all too short reprieve before I started all over again. Her instinctive attempts to escape became weaker, but she never stopped trying to please me, and at last I shuddered from head to toe, overcome by the biggest orgasm I could remember.