dirty feet

Lucia Haycock: Lick the cellar dirt off my feet.

Lucia Haycock stepped barefoot out of the dark cellar, where dust clung to her feet with every step. The narrow steps had left their mark; the shadows of the old walls were nothing compared to the power she exuded. With a confident smile and an air of superiority, she strode into the apartment that was her domain.

No sooner had she entered the hallway than she went straight to the bathroom. The room was her personal sanctuary, a place where she could become aware of her power. She dropped down onto the tub, the water not yet running, and called for her foot slave. Her tone was direct and unambiguous—there was no room for hesitation.

“Come here and take care of my feet,” she commanded with an air of self-assurance. “They’re dirty and need your attention. Go on, lick my feet clean and swallow the dirt.” It was a command he could not refuse. She was used to men lying at her feet, ready to fulfill her smallest desires. The thought that her feet, which had moved through the grimy cellar, were now in his care filled her with a dark pleasure.

He knelt before her, his eyes lowered, as he began to remove the dust from her feet with his tongue. She used his face to rub her feet clean. Lucia enjoyed being the center of attention while her foot slave devoted himself entirely to serving her. It was her world, and she lived it to the fullest. A slave’s face is, at best, for cleaning her feet.

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