I sighed as I walked through the front door, throwing my briefcase by the hall table. I smoothed my skirt, shrugged in my jacket, took a deep breath and turned to look into the lounge room.
You were sprawled on the couch in jeans and t-shirt, comfortable, had been watching television. You had glanced up when I entered and now you were looking at me, a half smile on your face, a question in your eyes. You knew better than to approach me without permission when I got home from work, so you waited.
I caught your eye, and held your gaze for several minutes, assessing my mood. Making up my mind, I called you.
You beamed at me and my heart skipped a beat. You lept off the couch and did a running slide to me across the hardwood floor, ending up on your knees at my feet. I laughed, leaning down to bring your chin up to me and kissed your mouth softly.
You immediately reached up for more of her kiss, your lips aggressively opening mine, your tongue in my mouth, tasting me. I felt your hands reaching for me, and before I could stop you, they were on my breasts, your fingers seeking out my nipples.
I pushed you backwards away from me. My eyes flashed.
“Greedy slut,” I hissed.
I could see your hardening cock outlined against the front of your jeans, I grabbed a fistful of your hair. My heart was racing, a combination of lust and steely disapproval making my head spin.
I leaned down and whispered, “What exactly was that?”
You breathed your apology into my ear, “Sorry, sorry Ma’am.”
I leaned away from you, holding your eyes with mine, keeping you still by your hair. I drank in the uncertainty in your eyes before I slapped your face, watching your eyes register the sting and the shock that always appeared, even when you saw it coming. I didn’t need to look to know it made your cock strain harder against your jeans. I took a deep breath, holding back a sound rising in my throat. I slapped you again, and god, your expression… I swore to myself that if I just kept doing it, this one thing, I would come just from watching you react. I slapped you again, you let out a soft moan.
I leaned down and rubbed my cheek gently against your warm reddening face, and imagined I could feel the sting against my skin.
I stalked into the lounge room, knowing you would follow. You crawled as quickly as you could after me. I flopped down on the couch and held my foot out to you. You kissed my black boot and let your lips brush my ankle before pulling it from my foot. I sighed with relief and offered my other foot where you repeated the ritual. You knelt back and waited for further instructions as I regarded you.
You quickly pulled your t-shirt off over your head. Your pants were more difficult given you were kneeling, but you had done this many times and were quickly nude, kneeling, waiting.
I lifted one foot up to your shoulder, my skirt riding up my thighs. You stared directly and unashamedly at my crotch, your mouth slightly open, breathing deeply to take in my scent as I widened my legs. I applied pressure with my foot to the side of your face, and you followed the pressure sideways until your cheek was against the floor, my foot holding your head down.
“On your back,” I whispered.
You rolled over onto your back, and I rubbed my foot from your face, down your body, stroking your cock with it, applying pressure to your balls, then sliding it back up to your face. I stopped with my foot over your mouth.
You reached out your tongue and I felt you lapping at the arch of my foot. You held my ankle gently with both hands and brought every inch of my foot to your mouth, straining to reach my toes to suck them, to taste me. When I was satisfied, I offered my other foot for your attention.
I relaxed back against the couch, letting the day go…
If you enjoyed this lovely foot worship/domestic dominance story, you can find more of Fern’s amazing work at Domme Chronicles or over on her Patreon, or head to the audio porn page for more sexy stories read aloud. This is part 1 of ‘Coming Home’, you can find part two here.